#SEXUALLY ASSAULT YOUR FRIEND??!!! AND LIKE WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT DO I FUCKING DO NOW I KNOW THIS

[poppy-metal]

my laptop charger gave out but i finally got a new one 🥳 so i am back and i found this thing in my drafts. can't remember if i already sent it so if i didn't then enjoy.

annoying friend! patrick would 100% convince you to watch porn with him. sitting in his room one day after you both left tennis practice. trying to figure out ways to entertain yourself when he bluntly just says it. probably teases you about how you probably never watch porn, you're too innocent, too much like a baby. a soft defense of yourself "i am not like that!" unintentionally corners yourself when patrick eagerly smirks. 

"prove it," and what else can you do than lay beside him as he searches for something? pulling up a lewd video - something he says is one of his 'favorites' because of course he has one - of woman messily getting fucked. patrick focuses more on your face and reactions as you watch it with wide eyes. the way her saliva falls and collects as the guy in the video pushes her down his cock. how messy she looks afterwards. the close up of the cock quickly fucking into her. you don't notice how tightly clenched your thighs are until you feel patrick slide his hand onto your legs. grinning ear from ear. 

-☕

i hate him i hate him i hate him i hate him

chooses the most scandalizing video on purpose - one where the guy is basically skullfucking the girl on screen and there's spit and drool and snot everywhere - dripping down the mans balls and taint, in strings, the lewd gag of the womans throat being abused loud and obscene.

you're irritated because you're intrigued. if this is one of patricks favorite videos.... "do you like it like that?" you have to wonder, which is bad bad bad - you've done good, you think, of straying away from strictly sexual topics when you're alone with patrick - lines get blurred to easy. and you'd already friendzoned him like, three times. you had to stick to your guns. but still. watching the video - you imagined the man as patrick - and your thighs squeezed.

patricks gaze had been on you, and it still is - he's watched this video countless times. beaten his dick off to it. "you're asking if i fuck girls like that?" there's a tone of something in his voice, the corner of his lips tucked up. you're already sitting pretty close to watch the video play out, balancing on his thighs - but he moves his leg minutely. so it presses against yours. skin on skin contact.

the warm heat of his thigh against yours is tantalizing. it was already stuffy in his room - hotter the longer the video played out. even now your gaze is locked on the screen because you refuse to look at patrick, can feel his eyes on the side of your face, "well." you edge hesitantly. "i mean its just.... messy. all those fluids - not all of that is spit, and like - the sounds. isn't that a turn off?"

maybe if you make yourself sound grossed out by it patrick will feel some shame and close the laptop. fat chance. patrick and shame? they dont know eachother. not even distant relatives.

"no." he says simply. when you glance at him, he bites his bottom lip, runs his teeth along it for a second before he releases it and elaborates. your curious little eyes getting to him. "its hot as fuck. i dont care whats coming out of her - snot, tears, spit - getting messy on my dick like that? gagging on it? feels amazing."

you swallow. "so you do treat girls like that."

his grin is sly, "you wanna know how i fuck? i can show you."

for one blistering moment you're frozen - i can show you - lips parted in shock, and most telling to how you feel about being shown how he fucks, a slick gush in your panties.

but patrick doesn't make a move on you. his shoulder brushes yours as he brings up another video, the thumbnail already making your eyes widen. oh. he presses play -

"i didn't ask to know how you -" you start, a delayed response, cut off when the video plays and your eyes are immediately assaulted by the visual of a mans thick ass and thighs as he hunches over a smaller woman, his cock a big angry thing - "thats not going to fit..." you say to yourself.

"it will." patrick assures you. "just watch," like he knows from experience. and again you're imagining this man as patrick now, his face isn't in frame so its easy. hes tan and the backs of his thighs are hairy like you know patricks are, corded with muscle. your clit throbs when he begins to bully the bulbous head of his cock into the small pout of her cunt, forcing the womans lips apart and notching into her little hole. you bite your lip - mesmerized by the sight as the man bears down. the woman lets out a wall of bliss as she's forced open - you see the struggle as shes stretched and then you see the give - when the man grunts and slams his hips down and his big dick dissappears inside her. his heavy sack resting against her outer lips.

"wow." you say. you pick at your bottom lip for something to do as the man starts fucking her. hard and mean, wet slaps filling the room from the laptop. "guess i need to send get well cards to all the girls you've been with.... "

patricks shoulder moves against yours as he laughs. "they're fine, i assure you."

"but! that has to hurt!" it must, right? no way that'd feel good.... having your cunt forced open like that.... you clench down, empty. imagining a phantom force pushing its way in. patricks cock....

the man in question shrugs. scratches his jaw, "i mean, yeah, if you're a complete amateur. but i take care of what's mine - trust me, they're begging for this big dick before i even pull it out."

your nipples are hard peaks. his voice is so.... when he talks about things seriously. this soft quality that makes your head a little blank. you dont need to question him on his size, you'd seen the print of him tenting his sweats before - you know hes packing a fucking anaconda in there. you think better on pressing him about the whole "take care of whats mine" bit. if he goes into explicit detail about that you'll have to excuse yourself to rub your clit in your own room. tormented with thoughts of being one of patricks zweigs girls for a night - his.

you shut the laptop. "well that was enlightening. i now know more about your sex life than i ever wanted to know before. thanks for that."

he nudges you, "im always happy to entertain."

[rabbittush]

WHAT THE FUCK!!!! HEY GREAT WEEK IN THE LIFE OF SOMEONE WHOSE LIFE IS SUCKING SO MUCH ASS RIGHT NOW WHAT TJE GENUINE FUCK LIKE WHAT RHE ACTUAL SHIT WHAT WHAT WHAT NO FUCK DIE

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT2

simon riley / reader

FIND PART ONE || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: this is part two and contains the gratuitous smut portion ur all looking forward to <3

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

PART 2: 17.9k total: 35.8k

Things seem to get much better between you. Your anger and resentment towards Simon diminishes significantly and you can finally say you feel comfortable around him again. You wouldn’t say you’ve forgotten everything that happened, you fear that the entire ordeal has left its scar on you. 

But you finally feel ready to truly begin to work on yourself and get to a better place mentally. 

You’re humming to yourself as you dust the surfaces in your living room, cringing in disgust when you see how dusty a particular shelf was. 

Just as you go to give it another swipe, your front door opens and Simon stumbles in, huffing from effort as he carries two armfuls of groceries. 

“Simon!” you cry out, watching with wide eyes from the stepstool you stood on as he ungracefully dropped them on the floor, “Why did you bring them all up here like that?”

“Didn’t wanna make another trip,” he explained lamely, flexing his hands as he looked over all the bags.

“Okay, I guess,” you chuckle softly. 

Simon finally looks up at you, “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning,” you shrug, waving the duster at him, “I haven’t felt like doing it until now so might as well get it done when I feel like it!”

He’s quiet for a moment before he steps over the bags of groceries.His boots thunk heavily on the floor as he approaches you. Suddenly, he wraps an arm around your middle. You squeak in surprise when he very carefully and gently pulls you off of the stool and places you back onto your feet. 

Then he walks away like nothing happened, snatching up a couple groceries up from the floor to take to the kitchen. 

You decide not to comment on his behavior and simply choose to grab a couple of bags and help him out. When you get inside the kitchen, he’s already stuffing things into the refrigerator. You place the bags down and go back to pick some more up, transferring all the bags of groceries near him so he can easily put them away. 

You notice one of the bags has some piping, lightbulbs, wires, and other things you can’t identify. 

“What’s all this?” you ask, holding the bag out to him when he turns to look.

He grunts, closing the fridge, “Gonna fix some shit around here.”

“Why?” you ask, scrunching your nose up as you place the bag on the counter.

“Shithole needs it,” he mumbles, moving to start opening the cabinets, “Since you refuse to let me move you out of this place, I’m gonna make sure it at least functions.”

You hum and nod your head. Simon had attempted to convince you to move out and into an apartment of his own choosing but you flat out refused. He was already paying the rent on this place, you weren’t going to let him spend more money for a different place – because you know Simon would choose somewhere that would cost a lot more than your current flat. 

But you couldn’t deny, the idea of Simon doing a little manual labor around the apartment made your heart flutter in your chest. The way he took care of you and was willing to get his hands dirty just to make sure you were comfortable. The little domestic tasks you could imagine him doing. 

It almost felt like something a husband would do. 

You felt your cheeks flush immediately at the train of thought. How embarrassing and juvenile to think something like that

“I can cook dinner!” you mumble after clearing your throat. 

Simon actually has the audacity to laugh. You frown as he shakes his head, closing the cabinet before turning to you. 

“Absolutely not,” he says.

Your jaw drops, “Why?!”

“Because,” he steps closer, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before breezing past you, “You’re a terrible cook, love.”

You open your mouth to retort but can only huff. Because he’s right. The last time you tried to make dinner for the two of you, you had confused cayenne with cinnamon and made the most diabolical stew known to man. He vowed to never let you cook anything that required more than boiling water since. 

You pout your way back to the living room, mumbling a petulant, “Fine…” as you went.

You didn’t catch the broad grin on Simon’s face as he watched you sulk away. He was just happy to see your vibrance returning before his very eyes.

True to his word, however, he began to do some random odd jobs around the apartment. He changed that damn leaky faucet in the kitchen first. He would never admit it but it was beginning to drive him completely mad. He swore he could hear it dripping into the metal sink basin in his dreams.

Then he fixed the piping in the bathroom so they would stop all that god-awful clanking that practically woke up the entire complex. But after that, he figured he might as well fix the piping under the sinks as well.

That’s when you saw him. On his back, big body sprawled out as he worked underneath the cabinet, wrench in hand and soft grunts of effort coming from him. His t-shirt rose up just a bit, exposing a small stretch of tummy and his happy trail. Every once in a while, you could see his muscles flex and it made your mouth go completely dry. 

You felt like a Victorian man seeing his first ankle on a woman. Ridiculous. 

Sure, you’d seen Simon shirtless countless times – hell, you walked in on him completely naked once or twice. But there was something particularly…delicious about him like this. Unaware, casual, just doing work. 

It made a swell of heat settle in your abdomen. You squeezed your thighs together as you watched him. His biceps flexed and bulged, making the sleeve of his t-shirt grow taut around his skin. His muscles moved underneath the tattoos inked into his skin. 

You dragged your eyes down his body, past his pecs, past the sliver of tummy. You imagined yourself crawling between those thick thighs and unbuckling his belt, tugging at the button of his jeans. You imagined getting to see his cock chub up inside his boxers before you would pull it out and wrap your lips around the leaking tip. 

Salty, you imagine. You’ve always heard that men’s cum and pre-cum would be salty. Would Simon’s taste as bad as some of your friends had told you back in highschool? You hoped not. You couldn’t imagine not enjoying every part of him – even his cum.

You wanted him to shoot in your mouth, let you taste it. You wanted to milk it out of him, give him no choice but to cum down your throat.

“Are you just going to stand there or do you need something?” his voice startled you out of your thoughts.

Wide eyed, you looked to meet his gaze but you found he wasn’t even looking at you, still staring at the piped overhead.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, floundering for an excuse as to why you were ogling him like a piece of meat, “I didn’t want to interrupt you. I-I was just wanting to make sure the shower was okay to use?”

He grunts, letting out a soft sigh  before pushing himself out from under the sink, closing the cabinet before wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Yeah, go ahead and shower, love.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile, casting one last glance to see that his t-shirt had fallen back into place. Disappointing. 

You trudge out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. Softly, you close the door and turn on the shower. The pipes don’t clang when the water shoots through them. It brings a smile to your face.

Once you’re stripped and standing under the warm spray, you let your hands wander your body. First, you cup your breasts, watching your nipples harden under your own touch before you slide one hand between your thighs. There’s a slickness between your folds that's distinctly different from the water, it’s slippery and sticky. But it makes your touch against your clit easy. 

You bite your lips to keep quiet, scared to death that Simon could hear you from under the sound of the water. You make quick, tight little circles against your clit. The bud is hard and twitches under your fingers. It makes the breath stutter out of your chest. 

You need more room, you realize, hiking your foot up onto a shelf. It spreads you open just a little more, gives you a little more access for your fingers to play. You sigh, head tipping forward to watch as you circle your own clit. 

But the more you touch yourself, the faster that tingling, warm sensation dissipates. You huff through your clenched teeth, frustrated. 

Usually, you could at least feel the beginning of that peak forming but this time…not even close. So you shamefully close your legs and go about your shower as if nothing happened, taking care to wash the slick from between your thighs especially.

As you lay in bed that night, Simon breathing deeply beside you as he slept, you were lost in thought. 

Surely, you were in the wrong for thinking about Simon like that – for getting wet at the sight of him. And then sleeping soundly next to him as if you weren’t some kind of pervert. Maybe you should just confess and apologize to him. 

No. You quickly admonish that thought, glancing over at his prone form. You couldn’t bear to see him be disgusted by you. He’d already rejected you years ago, finalized it and put the nail in the coffin so you would never be dumb enough to do it again. 

What would he do if he found out about your…attraction to him? He practically lived with you now, after everything happened. He was in your flat more than he was on base now. It was only a matter of time before he caught you with your hands dancing in your pants. 

Your cheeks flushed at the idea. Part of you thought it hot – for him to find you needy like that, desperately playing with your clit as you try to make yourself cum. 

But on the other hand, you could see the wrinkle of disgust in his brow and sneer on his face as he walked away. That outcome was not worth it, you decided. 

With a sigh, you rolled over so your back faced Simon and closed your eyes for the night. 

You both should have known better that the fragile peacefulness between the two of you was just that – fragile, balancing on a delicate precipice that could shatter at any moment. 

The ring of his phone was the break. 

“Answer that for me, love!” he called from the kitchen where he was busy preparing dinner. 

You leaned forward to check the number. It wasn’t in his contacts but Simon never got calls from people unless he knew them. So you slowly slid the button over and accepted the call. 

“Hello?” you mumbled into the phone.

There was a beat of silence before a woman’s voice responded in kind, “Hello?”

“Um…” you swallowed down the apprehension that settled in your chest, casting a glance towards Simon’s back as he stood over the stove, “Who may I ask is calling?”

“I’m looking for Simon,” she said, sounding much more coy than a second ago. She knew his real name and that irked you. People from work always referred to him as Ghost, only those he considered trustworthy or friends were privy to calling him Simon. 

“Um, he’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” you ask, loud enough for Simon to hear in the kitchen if he was interested in intervening. But he didn’t move. 

“Sure!” she giggled, “Tell him that Victoria really wants to see him again and to call me so we can!”

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, “Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll let him know…”

“Thank you,” she cooed in a sultry tone, “Oh! And tell him I really had a great time last time we were together and that I’m looking forward to a repeat performance.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that,” you assured, hoping you didn’t sound as tense as you felt. 

She giggled before the call disconnected and you were left glaring at his stupid stock phone wallpaper.

“Who was it?” Simon comes to the archway of the kitchen, leaning against the wall. You can’t hear anything cooking anymore so you assume he’s finished dinner.

“Victoria,” you spit the name out like it’s poisonous, “Says she wants to see you again and she had a fantastic time with you last time.”

Simon shifts where he stands, looking down at his feet before looking back up to you, “Alright. I’ll call her back later.”

That sends knives straight through your heart. It aches so badly that you want to bite your own tongue off to make it stop. 

Jealousy, you realize. You’re fucking jealous. Some girl calls and asks for his dick and he just says okay? 

He’s not yours, you tell yourself. He can fuck whoever he wants. 

But that does nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you. 

There’s other feelings brewing inside you; rejection, fear, loss.

You feel bitter that you’re right there and he would still never choose you. He’ll always choose someone else because he doesn’t see you like that. It feels like he’s throwing it in your face, just spitting at you to show you that he doesn’t love you like you love him. He never has and he never will. You’ll never be an option to him because he doesn’t want you.

Then you’re scared he’s going to leave you. He’s going to go to this Victoria chick and leave you all alone so he can get his dick wet again. Just like last time. Maybe he’ll like it so much he wants to stay with her. Maybe he’s going to leave you behind so he can start a new, happy life without having to worry about the dead weight that’s been dragging him down since he was 8. You. His responsibility. His problem. 

You’re so scared that he’s going to be ripped from your grasp. That you’re going to lose him to someone else and it’s going to be you and your pathetic one-sided love for the rest of your life. Fuck, you’ve loved him since you were 4. You’ve loved him for so long that it makes you nauseous to think about. How many people loved one person for this long? 

Please, you wanted to cry to him, please love me. 

Please, just love me back.

“So you’re gonna go then?’ you finally find your voice, bitterness and resentment thick in your tone, “You’re gonna leave me to go to a booty call again?”

He stands up straight at that. Arms cross over his chest, he watches that way you glare at him, heated and teary-eyed. Hurt. 

He knew you still weren’t over the way he left you that time – when you needed him the most. You’d been ignoring the residual hurt that lingered, intent on pretending that everything was fine. He had been doing his best to make up for it but it always felt like one step forward and two steps back with you. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures softly, “I’ll call her back to tell her that it won’t happen.”

He tries his best to remain level-headed and soft, to be reassuring like he knows you need. But your expression doesn’t change. You continue to glare at him with that furious, hurt look in your eyes. 

Suddenly, you stand. 

“I don’t believe you,” you hiss, turning your back to him, storming down the hallway. 

He almost winces when he hears how hard you slam the bedroom door. He thinks about going back there to talk to you but decides against it. You need some space to calm yourself down. 

He eats the dinner he made for both of you alone, putting your half in the fridge for later. He goes about the apartment, locking the door and turning out all the lights. Then he gets to the bedroom door and goes to turn the knob and it doesn’t budge. 

Despite himself, he laughs. He jiggles the knob, jerks the door a little harder like it’ll open with a bit of force. And it might, it’s a flimsy ass door if he’s being honest – he’s forced bigger and heavier doors open before. 

He snaps your name, humor gone from his voice. You don’t answer. 

“Open the damn door,” he snaps, trying the knob again. He gets silence in return so he slams his fist against the surface. The sound is loud enough that it makes his own ears ring, “I said open the door. I’m not playin’ this game with you, sweetheart.”

“Sleep on the couch, Simon!” he hears your wobbly voice call back. Of course you’re in there crying, he thinks.

“I’m not sleepin’ on the fuckin’ couch,” he hisses, leaning his forearm against the door, resting his head against it with a sigh, “Open the door and let’s talk.”

“Don’t wanna talk to you,” you whine, bratty as all hell. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so damn pissed, “Why don’t you go sleep with Victoria since you like her so much.”

You don’t know why you say that last part. You don’t want him to go to her, you don’t want him to go anywhere. The thought of it brings more tears to your eyes. 

Simon is silent on the other side of the door for a long while. You almost think he walked away and succumbed to the couch. You wouldn’t actually let him sleep on that awful thing, of course. You just…you don’t know what the end goal here is, if you’re honest.

“Fine,” he finally spits, “If that’s what you want, I’ll fuck off and find Victoria.”

You hear the floorboards creak under his weight as he walks away. You sit up straight in bed at that, eyes wide as you listen to him stalk through the house. You swear you hear the jingle of his keys and that’s what has you lurching out of bed in a panic.

You almost trip over the sheets as they tangle around your legs but you manage to free yourself and wrench the door open.

“Simon!” you practically shriek, rounding the corner of the hallway to find him standing with his back to you, facing the door.

He’s got his hoodie and mask on, boots firmly on his feet and keys in hand. He stands still, back straight as his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. But he waits.

“Don’t go,” you find yourself whimpering, “‘M sorry. Come to bed, okay?”

He doesn’t move and that makes your heart pound in your chest. You know he’s pissed, can see it in the way his fists stay clenched at his sides. His fingers twitch and he makes a move for the doorknob and you surge forward, wrapping yourself around his other arm, yanking him away from the door as hard as you can. 

He lets your weight knock him off balance, lets you drag him away from the door. He lets you tug him down the hallway, sniffling and crying as you do. 

“J-Just…” you find yourself frantically tugging his mask off, tossing it away before you rip the hem of his hoodie up. He doesn’t help you or fight you as you try to take it off of him. He just stares blankly at you, like he’s assessing you. You hate it. “G-Get ready for bed, okay? Just…we can go to sleep.”

“Why do you make this so fuckin’ hard for me?” he finally breaks his silence, the question cold and calculating. Like he’s tired. Exhausted, “I keep tryin’ to make it up to you. But every time something goes wrong, you throw everything back in my face and you act like you hate me again. I can’t keep…” he trails off, shaking his head before he sits at the foot of the bed, hands clasped together and head hanging between his shoulders.

“I love you,” you blurt out, a sob breaking out of your lips as you do. Simon doesn’t move. Your hands cover your eyes, as if being blind to his reaction will make the rejection hurt less, “I love you and i-it just keeps messing me up inside. I’m sorry.”

“You love me?” he asks, still no emotion in his voice. 

When you peek at him, he’s in the same position as before, hands clasped, elbows on his knees, head bowed. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing and you’re scared to find out.

“Yes,” you hiccup, sniffling softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks softly, almost solemnly.

“I promised,” you cry, another choked sob escaping you. 

“Promised..?” he doesn’t sound cold anymore, just confused, “The fuck’re you talkin’ about?”

“W-When I was 14,” you whimper, shame filling you as you recall your now-broken promise, “I-I told you I liked you and you said you didn’t feel the same. You told me to never bring it up again and I promised I wouldn’t. B-But…” you sobbed again, stopping yourself from finishing the sentence.

“Fuckin’ hell…” he breathes, bringing his hands to his face, scrubbing them up and down vigorously in a way that looks like it hurts. Then he laughs. 

He fucking laughs. 

It’s like your worst fears come to light. He’s laughing at you, at your confession. At your feelings. A fresh wave of tears fill your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You bite your lips to keep from making your sobs audible anymore. You didn’t want him to laugh at that too. You hang your head, wringing your hands together behind your back anxiously as Simon quiets down. 

“Shit,” he breathes, getting to his feet. He stands before you, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He frowns when he sees the utter despair on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes, “No, baby. No, no. I wasn’t laughin’ at you.”

Baby. You catch onto it. He’s never called you that before. 

You dash the spark of hope that it causes. 

He rubs his thumbs under your eyes, wiping the tears away. 

Then, he leans forward and slots his lips against yours. 

It’s like fireworks explode in your chest. Your heart races so fast that you feel lightheaded. You can’t even respond to the kiss in time before he pulls away, your mind is moving too fast for you to process any meaningful thought. But he kissed you. 

Simon kissed you.

“What?” you finally manage to whisper, looking up with wide, shocked eyes, “Why did you..?”

He looks confused for a second, still cupping your cheeks as he looks into your watery eyes, “You really have no idea?” Your brows furrow immediately and you shake your head, “How I feel about you?”

“You feel..?” you dumbly repeat. 

He smiles softly, thumb rubbing softly over your cheekbone, “You really think I don’t feel the same?”

“B-But when…when we were kids I…” you stumble over your words, the truth you’ve believed this entire time seemingly false, “You s-said you didn’t feel the same.”

“Jesus, love,” he huffs softly in disbelief, “You were fourteen. I was seventeen. You were way too fuckin’ young for me, it wouldn’t have been right.”

“B-But then…” you stutter, reaching up to wipe your cheek, “When did you..?”

He shrugs, “Not sure exactly. Suppose sometime after you turned 20 was when I realized I felt somethin’ for you.”

“So you really…” you whisper, snagging your hands into his hoodie to pull him close, “You really…I mean…”

“Love you?” he smiles softly, “Of course I do.”

You lean forward and press your lips to his. He hums, wrapping one strong arm around your middle to pull you even closer. His lips work magically over yours, taking control of the kiss with ease. You easily melt into it, following his lead. It’s not as easy as you thought it would be and you hope Simon doesn’t notice. 

But he does, of course he does. 

He pulls away and smooths the palm of his hand down your cheek before it comes to rest on your jaw. His thumb slides over your bottom lip and he hums.

“You ever kissed before?” he asks, voice calm and level with no teasing to it at all.

Still, heat explodes all over your face. Embarrassment overrides the euphoria of your requited feelings. You try to pull away but Simon’s much stronger and he won’t let go unless he wants to. 

“Hey, don’t run,” he coos softly, turning your face to look back up at him, “I was just askin’.”

“No,” you mumble, still burning with embarrassment, “I-I’ve only ever liked you so…”

“Fuckin’ hell…” he whispers, letting you step back just a bit so he can look over you, “Is that right?”

“You should know that,” you mumble, feeling small under his scrutiny, “You know everything about me.”

“Didn’t think datin’ history was somethin’ you felt like sharin’,” he shrugged off.

“Well, now you know,” you mutter, your gaze glued to the floor.

“That I do,” he hums in agreement, reaching out to brush a hand down the length of your arm. 

A soft, quietness falls over the two of you. You’re not sure what to do and it seems he’s content where he is. He’s watching you, tracking every little shift and fidget you make until he finally seems to take pity on you.

“Let’s get to bed,” he says softly, giving you a soft nudge towards the bed. 

You take the opportunity to dive into bed, yanking the blanket over you as Simon strips himself out of his boots and hoodie. You go to look away as he yanks his belt free with practiced hands but you can’t seem to. He slips the belt out of the loops and drops it on the dresser before unbuttoning his jeans and slipping them off. 

Your mouth waters at the sight of him in a tight pair of navy boxer-briefs slung low on his hips. You can make out the shape of his–

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he mumbles half-heartedly as he turns to root through the dresser to find some sweatpants. 

“Sorry…” you mutter shamefully at being caught. 

He chuckles under his breath, pulling the sweats on before he rounds to his side of the bed and drops onto the mattress, “Nothin’ to be sorry about.”

He leans over you and turns out the tableside lamp. Then he settles into his pillow with a soft sigh.

“Si..?” you whisper.

“Yeah?” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Are we um…” you clear your throat, “I mean like…are we…together now..?”

You feel him roll over and toss his arms around you. You squeak when he tugs you towards him roughly, securing you against his chest before he kisses the top of your head.

“Do you want to be together?” he asks, muffled by his lips pressed against you. 

“Yes,” you whisper quickly, wrapping yourself around him almost possessively.

He tilts your head up and carefully slots his mouth over yours again. You sigh happily at the feeling. 

You notice that he keeps it a lot slower than he had before, moving his lips carefully against yours. Like he’s trying to make it easier for you to keep up. It makes your cheeks flush again but you sink into the pillow and let him kiss all he wants as you do your best to match his movements. 

His body shifts, torso hovering over you as he rests his weight on his elbows on either side of your head. Your hands rest against his shoulders and simply get lost in the kiss. 

After a moment, he deepens the kiss, sinking into you with his chest pressed against yours. You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck, carding your fingers through his cropped hair. 

One of his hands moves, coming to grip your waist, fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt. It’s like a dream come true. Literally. 

All those nights you spent with your hand between your thighs, thinking of him. Thinking of him touching you like this – with his hand sliding your shirt up a little further every second. You even feel that familiar wetness soaking your panties.

Then why was your heart racing from anxiety instead of excitement? Why did you feel a fearful tremble setting in your thighs, as if your knees would be knocking together if you were standing. Why were you scared?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re shoving your hands against his chest with a weak, “No!”

Simon is off of you in seconds but you can feel his gaze on you in the darkness. You struggle to catch your breath as you lay there, heart pounding in your ears. Your head hurts, you realize with a wince.

“Um…” you find yourself attempting to appease him, “I-I don’t…I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s alright,” he whispers sincerely, settling down into bed with a content hum, “Nothin’ to worry about, love.”

You scoot closer to him and hesitantly place your head on his chest. Simon’s arm wraps around your back and tucks you even more snug against him. You close your eyes and will yourself to relax and sleep as you feel Simon’s comforting hand rubbing your back. 

Neither of you talk about it in the morning. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. You don’t bring it up, even though you want to, and Simon doesn’t try touching you like that again. Part of you wants him to, you’ve been dreaming about his touch for years but once you finally get it, you freak out?

You can’t stop beating yourself up over it. 

But then you think about the anxiety that it had caused. The apprehension. How uncomfortable it felt – how you wanted his hands off of you. 

You sighed, flopping onto your side on the couch where you sat. Your mind was buzzing annoyingly from your thoughts. 

Regardless of your problems, you were happier than ever with him. He was finally yours. Wholly and truly yours. It was bliss. 

“Got a call,” Simon says, snapping you out of your daze, “Gotta leave.”

That makes you sit up, “Leave?”

You finally notice that he’s got his bag packed – the one he only takes when he’s getting deployed. You’re on your feet in seconds, following him to the door. He’s wearing his skull balaclava so all you can see are his eyes – sad, apologetic.

“H-How long?” you ask, unable to ignore the ache in your chest as you watch him.

“Few weeks, probably,” he mutters, placing the bag down so he can tuck his feet into his boots.

He straightens up with a grunt before turning to you. He sighs, gloved hands cupping your cheeks when he sees how sad you look – like a kicked puppy. You wish you could feel his bare hands on you but can’t find it in you to ask. 

“I don’t want you to go,” you find yourself mumbling.

It’s selfish and even a bit cruel of you to voice that desire. Simon’s thumb strokes your cheek in that sweet way he always does and you melt into him. He lets you thump your head against his chest as you suppress your cries, biting your lip so you can keep your tears at bay. 

“I know,” he softly whispers, stroking your back as you cling to him, “I know, but I have to.”

“I know,” you mumble, finally looking up at him. You know your eyes are glassy and you make sure to blink back the tears so they never overflow, “Just be safe and come home, okay?”

He lifts his mask up just enough to expose his lips before he leans down to kiss you. It’s a whole body experience this time. He clutches you against him like his life depends on it, gloved hands fiercely gripping the back of your t-shirt. His lips move smoothly against yours, hand coming up to cup your jaw so he can tilt your head and pull you even deeper into his kiss. He pulls away when he needs to breathe, smiling when he sees the dazed, lovesick expression on your face. He tugs his mask down and lets you go but you stay as close to him as possible. 

“Make sure you stay warm,” he coos, “Gonna start gettin’ real cold in a couple days.”

“I will, Si,” you assure him.

“Left some cash for you to do your shoppin’,” he adds, “I know you’re a shit cook but I left a list of some easy recipes. Don’t burn the flat down.”

You snort and playfully smack his shoulder, “I’ll just buy some cup noodles in that case.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching your side to make you gasp from the ticklish feeling, “Don’t even think about it.”

Your grin falters when his phone makes that obnoxious beeping noise that lets you know it’s something urgent. He sighs, the tranquil happiness between you two broken immediately. He kisses your forehead through his mask and pulls the front door open.

“Keep this locked,” he mutters, stepping past the threshold, “I’ll be home soon.”

He closes the door and you’re left with an emptiness that overcomes you. You’ve always been scared for him when he has to go off on missions – you know that his job is extremely dangerous and he could lose his life at any moment. That thought alone makes a nauseous pit settle in your stomach. You push down the feeling of bile rising in the back of your throat and click the lock on the door with a sigh before you go about your day, trying your best to keep your mind off of him and where he might be in the world. 

True to his word, however, the temperature drops bitterly cold within 2 days after he leaves. There had already been a chill in the air that drove you to turn the heating on just a bit but now it was full blast. But now, it was dipping to freezing and you were anticipating the arrival of snow soon enough as well. 

You wake up one morning, however, and your apartment is bitterly cold. You sit up, confused before climbing out of bed. Your feet are immediately freezing as you step onto the floor. You hiss, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stumble over to the radiator in your room. You touch it and find absolutely no heat emanating from it. 

All the radiators are the same. Absolutely no heat. 

You curse, realizing you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You curl up on the couch under a heavy throw blanket as you type with bitterly cold fingers into Google, looking for anything that can help you. But it’s to no avail. You can’t understand a thing. 

Your next thought is to call the building manager but you know that’s pointless. The useless man never actually helps with any work for his tenants. 

There’s no way in hell that you can afford to call someone to come and fix the problem. You have money for groceries but if you spent that you wouldn’t have anything to eat. You sigh, resolving yourself to bundling up and trying to stay as warm as you can. 

You pile all the blankets you have into bed and pick out only your thickest, warmest sweaters. 

This is going to be miserable, you think. 

The snow comes just a short week later and it feels even colder. You venture out of your flat to go to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for the dishes Simon wrote down for you and also some cans of soup that you can cook to stay warm. You also throw some boxes of tea and some hot chocolate in with it, figuring why not. Warm drinks will help. 

It’s almost 3 weeks of living like that. It’s miserable and makes your bones ache from how stiff the cold makes you feel. You make sure to eat nice, hot food to keep yourself warm and make frequent cups of warm drinks so you can keep your hands warm for as long as you can. You do your best. 

The worst is showers, though. When you’re standing under the blisteringly hot spray, it’s bliss. But the second you step out and your wet body is hit with the freezing air, you couldn’t have felt more miserable. 

The night Simon walks through the door, he finds you bundled up on the couch sipping a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Simon!” you gasp excitedly, tossing the blankets off to take a running leap at him. 

He huffs contentedly when he catches you in his arms, letting you embrace him for as long as you need. He strips his mask off and brings you in for a delicate kiss.

“Let me wash up,” he mumbles, stalking through the apartment.

“Um, before you do, Si,” you catch him at the entrance to the hallway. He turns to you and looks at you with a brow raised, “The um…heating is broken so…just letting you know when you come out of the shower it’s gonna suck.”

“Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t dealt with before,” he mutters and pauses, “The fuck you mean it’s broken?”

“Heating cut off a few weeks ago…” you shrug, wrapping your arms around yourself as you start to feel the cold creep in again.

“A few weeks ago?” he hisses, running a stressed hand through his hair, “Fuckin’ hell. You didn’t call someone to fix it?”

You pout as he raises his voice, clearly frustrated, “I couldn’t afford it, Si! I had the money you gave me for food but I wasn’t gonna spend that to get the heating fixed. You know the building manager is a piece of shit, not like he was gonna call someone.”

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, seemingly thinking something over. Then he turns on his heel and storms into the bathroom, slamming the door.

“I’m sorry, Simon!” you call through the door, “I didn’t know what else to do! Please, don’t be mad.”

The shower turns on and all you can do is look up and sigh in exasperation. The second he’s home and he’s already pissed at you. 

You sulk over to the couch and flop down, tossing your blankets over you as you grab your mug. The hot chocolate is still warm but not as hot as it was. It’ll have to do.

Simon comes out of the shower, gets dressed warmly, and joins you in the living room. He doesn’t even look at you as he makes a move for his bag that he left by the door. You almost think he’s going to scoop the bag up and storm out the door. You sit up, ready to stop him but instead, he stoops down and zips it open. He pulls out his wallet and approaches you. 

“What are you doing?” you mumble, watching him flip the thing open.

It’s old and worn, a simple black leather wallet. He’s had it for as long as you could remember and you’ve put the poor thing through the washer and dryer so many times that you’re shocked it's still intact. 

He pulls out a bank card and promptly hands it to you. Your brain stutters to a stop as you look at it.

“Take it, fuck sake,” he mutters. He sounds annoyed but the way he looks away and his ears turn pink you can tell he’s…shy. 

Simon Riley is fucking shy right now.

You take the bank card out of his hand and look at it, flipping over in your hands, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can use it,” he mumbles, slamming his wallet shut and tossing it onto the table, “That way, in case anything happens you can withdraw from my account for what you need. If an emergency happens and I’m not around, use it.”

“Simon…” you mumble, looking up at him, “Are you sure..?”

“Course I’m sure,” he scoffs, taking a seat beside you before softly rattling off four digits.

“Huh?” you dumbly ask.

“It’s my pin,” he responds, grabbing one of the blankets you have piled on the couch and tossing it on his lap.

“That’s my birthday…” you say softly as you repeat the numbers over and over in your head, “Your bank pin is my birthday?”

He snatches the remote up from the table and turns the TV on without another word. But you can see how pink the tips of his ears are. It makes you beam and before you know it, you’re curling snugly into his side. 

“Love you, Si,” you whisper, earning a kiss to the top of your head in response.

Simon calls the next morning to have someone come by and fix the damn heating. You listen to the man rattle off some information to Simon about what the problem was but it makes virtually no sense to you so you resolve yourself to sitting on the couch and waiting until it’s warm again. 

But even when it’s nice and toasty inside, you still plaster yourself to Simon’s side, snuggling as close to him as you possibly can.

“I want you to meet my team,” Simon says one morning while he’s making some eggs. 

You’re standing by the toaster, waiting for it to pop up but his words make you turn to him, “You mean 141?”

“Who else?” he huffs, flipping one of the eggs. It sizzles loudly in the pan, “They wanted me to go out with them tonight. Thought you could join us.”

“Really?” you realize how incredulous you sound and then try again, “I mean really? That’s okay with you?”

He nods, plating the eggs, “I think it’s time they met you.”

“I-I’d love to,” you say, unable to hide the excitement you feel. 

You catch a slip of a smile on Simon’s face before the toast pops up and distracts you. 

You have to dig into your closet that evening, after a shower, to find something nice to wear. You figure an occasion like this calls for something a little nicer than just jeans and a t-shirt like you usually wear. But you can’t find much of anything. 

“What’re you huffin’ about in  here?” Simon asks when he walks in, towel wrapped around his waist. He’s still dripping wet from the shower and you can feel the way your mouth fills with saliva at the sight. 

“I uh…don’t know what to wear…” you respond, turning your back to him just as he slips the towel off. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, imagining Simon completely naked behind you.

“Wear those nice jeans you got,” he mumbles, grunting as he gets himself dressed, “And that little blue top you got.”

“The cropped one?” you ask incredulously, a brow raised as you turn to him. He’s got some jeans on now and he’s meticulously unfolding a black t-shirt so he can put it on, “I haven’t worn that in a while, how’d you even remember it?”

He shrugs, the muscles in his back rippling with his movement before he tosses the shirt over his head and pulls it down, covering his skin once again, “It’s cute. We’re just goin’ to the pub, love.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching into the back of your closet to pull the little shirt out, “If you’re sure this will be okay.”

“I’m sure,” he chuckles softly, grabbing his balaclava off the dresser. But he doesn’t put it on yet. Instead, he sits on the bed and watches you change.

You’re acutely aware of his eyes on you as you strip your shirt off. You keep your back to him, trying to ignore your racing heart. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all, instead you feel…excited. 

Your mind runs wild, imagining him stepping up behind you, kissing your neck and cupping your bare breasts in his big hands. They’re a little rough from his line of work and you wonder what they’d feel like against the sensitive skin of your tits, thumbing your nipples and pinching them a little meanly. 

“C-Can you hand me a bra?” you find yourself asking.

He grunts in acknowledgement and the bed creaks when his weight moves off it. He opens one of the drawers and is behind you in a second. His body heat permeates through his shirt as he presses his chest against your back. 

He slings your bra over your shoulder, holding it with one finger by the strap. You can’t help but tilt your head back to look up at him. He’s towering over you, pretty, brown eyes looking down his nose at you. 

You realize in this position, he could clearly see your breasts but he keeps his eyes on yours. You take the bra from him and he lets you, simply staring into your eyes with that stern silence he has about him.

“T-Thanks…” you find yourself whispering, mouth feeling particularly dry.

He grunts, lips quirked up just a bit before he turns his back and walks back to the bed. You let out a quiet, slow breath, willing your heart rate to go back to normal.

Simon was so exhilarating. Just being around him sets your heart racing and fingers trembling. 

You put your bra on and slip your top over your head, ignoring the sticky feeling in your panties as you do. 

“I don’t know, Si,” you mutter, turning to face him, “I-It’s a little tight on me now.”

The fabric once hugged you nicely but now it was snug. It molded around your breasts, even showing the lines of your bra. The neckline was low, giving a good show of cleavage – it didn’t help that Simon picked one of your more well padded bras. 

Simon looks up, his eyes immediately falling to your breasts. He sucks in a quick breath and looks away, licking his lips.

“Looks fine,” he mutters, standing to pull one of the drawers open again. He searches for a second, brows furrowed until he pulls out the jeans he was talking about. The ‘nice jeans’ as he called them, were just some low rise jeans you’d only worn about 4 times.

You look dumbly at them as he drops them into your hands.

“These?” you scoff, “Simon, I can’t–”

He quiets you with a kiss to your forehead, “Trust me, love.”

He steps out of the room after that, leaving you to your own devices. You’re thankful that you can change your panties without him seeing how saturated and sticky they’ve become because of him. You bury them in the laundry basket and remind yourself that you should do the laundry before he does because you’d be mortified if he found them. 

You don’t even look at yourself in the mirror, afraid you’ll feel too self-conscious if you see what you look like. But you trust Simon’s judgment on what he thinks would look good on you – and you can’t deny that dressing up how he likes feels nice. 

You step into the living room, intent on pulling your shoes on when Simon catches you with an arm around your waist. You gasp as he turns you to face him.

“You look lovely,” he whispers, smoothing his hands up your sides, thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to stroke your skin.

You swallow thickly as your heart starts racing in your chest again. He leans down and pecks your lips but pulls back before you have the chance to kiss back. 

“Let’s go,” is all he adds before walking away, leaving you no choice but to follow like the lovesick puppy you are. 

Walking into the bar, your heart pounds painfully in your chest from pure anxiety. Your hand is clasped tightly in Simon’s as he easily moves through the crowd. You suppose his height makes it easy to see over people. 

“You alright?” he asks, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Haven’t been in a bar since I worked at…” you trail off, giving him a half-hearted shrug.

“If you wanna leave, just say the word,” he mutters, giving your hand a squeeze.

“N-No,” you shake your head, shooting him a wobbly smile,”I wanna meet your team at least.”

He smiles reassuringly and gives your hand a tug to encourage you to follow him. He leads you right to a table situated in a corner, three men laughing and drinking. 

“There he is!” the one with the mohawk cheeks, holding up his pint in celebration.

“Shut up, Soap,” Simon grumbles petulantly as he pulls out a chair for you.

Soap, you note to yourself. You know them by name but you’ve never actually seen the faces to put to them. Soap looks like you imagined, a broad grin and pretty, bright eyes – you imagined them green but they’re blue. 

“And who is this lovely companion of yours, Simon?” an older man with a hat and mutton chops asks with a kind smile, eyes on you.

Simon says your name before he sits down with a grunt beside you.

“Price,” your boyfriend supplies when you look curiously at him.

The man in question holds out a hand which you take and softly shake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Had no idea Lt. had someone waitin’ for him at home,” Soap says, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

So you’ve met Soap, Price, and that leaves; your eyes land on the quiet guy sitting back in his chair, a cool smile on his lips. He meets your gaze and his smile broadens – not teasing like Soap’s but purely kind.

“You can call me Kyle,” he gives you a polite nod.

“Gaz, then?” you question, tilting your head to the side. Kyle looks surprised, eyes flicking to Simon who shifts uncomfortably in his chair, “He’s talked about all of you before. I only know your call signs though.”

“John will do fine if you’d like,” Price says, tipping his beer back to take a chug.

“Simon calls me Johnny,” Soap adds, “You’re welcome to as well. Anyone important to the Lieutenant is important to us.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Simon roll his eyes. It makes you smile. He leans over, nudging you with his knee, “You want anything to drink? I need one.”

“No thank you, Si,” you reply, intent on having a clear head for the night. You’ve never been much of a drinker anyway. 

When Simon’s gone from the table, you suddenly feel incredibly out of place. Price and Kyle have the decency to not stare you down but Soap seems keen on keeping his baby blue’s right on you and a goofy little smile on his face.

“Um…” you shift uncomfortably as you look back at him.

“We’ve never gotten to meet anyone from Ghost’s private life before,” Soap says, saving you from having to think of what to say, “Just shocked s’all.” 

“You’re gonna start giving the poor thing the creeps with your ugly mug,” Kyle chuckles which also makes Soap laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Soap lifts his glass and cheers to you before tipping it back. 

He grimaces slightly as it goes down before slamming his glass back on the table.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “Si’s not really the open book kind. So I understand.”

“How long have the two of you known each other?” Kyle asks.

You find yourself wondering where the hell Simon even is but answer regardless, “Since we were kids. Um, we lived next door. His mom and mine were friends, I guess.”

Soap nods his head, elbows on the table as he gives you his full attention, “You guess?”

You hum, “I’m 3 years younger than Simon. The way it was told to me by my mom is that…his mom came over and,” you couldn’t fight back the smile as you recalled the story.

“Oh this has got to be good,” Soap nudged Kyle excitedly at your grin.

“Told my mom that Simon didn’t have any friends and that he was a…soft-hearted boy and she wanted him to have some friends,” you giggle, holding a hand in front of your face to hide your laughter, “So she wanted to set up playdates with me even though I was still a baby. My mom didn’t have the heart to tell her no.”

Soap tosses his head back and laughs, “No fuckin’ way.”

“I’m shocked to say it but that actually makes him sound cute,” Kyle adds, unable to hide the laughter in his voice either.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Price says, but there’s a smile on his face, “Simon’ll knock you out cold on this table.”

“So you and Simon have been together since?” Kyle asks, glass cupped in both hands.

You nod, “Only time we’ve been apart is when he enlisted and had to go off for a few years to train.”

Soap opens his mouth to say something but a large figure finally drops down into the seat next to you. Simon has a glass of bourbon and a glass that he slides over to Soap who catches it with ease.

“Thanks, Lt,” he nods, taking a sip before making that disgusted face again.

“What are you lot talkin’ about?” Simon asks, drumming his fingers against his glass.

“We were discussin’ all your dirty secrets,” Kyle teases with a charming grin.

“Nothin’ too damning I hope,” Simon huffs before he takes a large gulp of his drink. 

The other three men all hide their grins behind their glasses. 

The anxiety you had felt at the beginning of the night is long gone. The task force is full of jokes and laughs and even Simon seems like a different person. 

With you, he’s kind and even soft. He’s by no means gentle or patient. 

But this side of Simon is so jovial and comfortable that it warms your heart to see. He drinks a few glasses and by the end of the night, he’s got a relaxed, lidded look in his eyes that lets you know he’s got a bit of a buzz going on. 

“It was lovely to meet you,” Price says when you all walk out of the bar.

“I really enjoyed meeting all of you as well,” you smile, letting Simon tuck you into his side with an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Get him home safe,” Soap teases, your smile only widening when you hear Simon huff in annoyance. 

You bid goodbye to the three of them and make your way to the car with Simon, plucking his keys out of his hand and forcing him into the passenger seat despite his grumbled protests of how ‘he’s not that drunk’.

When the two of you finally get into your apartment, you let him lock up and turn out the lights while you go to the bedroom and get ready for bed. 

“You looked really nice tonight,” Simon mutters when he finally walks in as you crawl into bed, “I’m glad you liked them.”

“I’m glad they liked me,” you huff, leaning back into the pillows, “They were all really nice guys.”

“Yeah,” Simon hums, tugging his shirt off of his head, taking his mask with it, “They’re good people.”

You nod your head and tuck your knees to your chest while he gets undressed. He slips on a plaid pair of pajama pants and shoves the drawer closed with his hip before yanking the blanket back to make room for his large body. 

You bounce a little on the bed when he drops his weight onto it. He smacks his pillow a couple times before he lays back and sighs. It’s clear he’s still a little buzzed from the way he fights to keep his eyes open.

“Simon?” you ask, turning to face him. 

That makes his eyes open back up before he looks at you, “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask. 

He snorts and it makes you smile. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of your head. You let him tug you down, pressing your hands against his firm chest as you kiss him. 

His hand travels down your back as he sighs into your mouth. You pull away briefly to look into his eyes before you kiss him again, this time deepening it as much as you’re able. Simon sighs contentedly, his other hand coming up to caress your arm. 

“I like kissin’ you…” you find yourself whispering against his lips.

He groans at that, the sound going straight to your core. You feel yourself clench around nothing, already starting to leak into your panties. 

“Yeah?” he coos, cupping your cheek, thumbing over your lips, “You can kiss me all you want, love.”

You whimper, surging down to kiss him again. His hands grip your waist, intermittently squeezing you, like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. 

Suddenly, you feel the warm, slick slide of his tongue against your lips. You whimper and pull back, brows furrowed.

“Shh, love,” he coos, pulling you close again, “Jus’ relax and let me…”

You huff, struggling to catch your breath as he urges you to meet his lips again. You feel his tongue again and eagerly open your mouth, letting him taste the inside of your mouth. You shyly meet his tongue with yours and feel his grip on your waist tighten as he groans in his throat. 

You’re sure you’ve soaked well through your panties by now. There’s an ache in your clit that you long to reach down and relieve – or better yet, have Simon relieve. 

You bet his fingers would feel so damn good against you. You find yourself whimpering into the kiss at the thought alone. Simon lets out a husky laugh into your mouth before pulling away. 

A string of spit connects your lips before it breaks and vanishes. 

With a surge of confidence, you toss your leg over his waist. He grunts when your weight settles on his hips, on his cock. It’s chubbed up against his thigh from kissing you and he knows you can feel it. 

“What’re you doin’, baby?” he huffs, unable to stop his hands from traveling up the front of your body. 

You grab his wrist and boldly slide it under the hem of your shirt. He bites his lip to keep from moaning when he feels your bare breast fill his palm. You see the way his eyes start to roll back before he looks at you again. It makes you throb in your panties and you can’t resist grinding against him a little before he grabs your waist and stops you.

“Si…” you whimper, pressing your hands against his chest, “‘S wrong?”

“Can’t,” he clears his throat and sinks into the bed, “Can’t do this, love.”

“Why not?” you ask, feeling a pit of disappointment in your gut, “You don’t want to? I just thought…”

You feel your face burn with humiliation as you slide off of his lap. Simon lets you, simply laying there on his back, eyes closed and a knit between his brows, as he evens his breathing out. You fight back tears as you sit there, biting the inside of your lip anxiously. 

“Not…not tonight, sweetheart,” he finally says, reaching over to pet your hair, “Been drinkin’ ‘nd I want to be sober for it, yeah?”

It would have been a solid excuse if it didn’t sound so flimsy coming from his lips. Like he doesn’t even believe it himself. 

“Yeah…” you offer, giving him a wobbly smile before turning out the light. 

You’re too embarrassed to cuddle into him that night. 

“Can I ask you something?” you find yourself muttering as you relax on the couch with him, watching some old movie he picked out, “As long as you promise not to get mad.”

He snorts, taking a sip of his tea, “Won’t get mad.”

“I just want to know…” you clear your throat and sit up straight a little more, going over the question in your head, “Why did you leave that night…leave like that, just to have sex?”

He tenses up immediately, you can feel it. He shifts where he sits, spreading his legs just a little wider so he can sink deeper into the couch, “We already talked about this.”

You wince at his clipped tone, knowing you’re stepping into dangerous territory, “I know but…I want to know the real reason.”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and sighs, keeping his eyes trained on the TV, “You think I was lyin’ to you?”

Now he sounds mad. You quickly shake your head, “No, Si. I-I’m not trying to start a fight, I swear. I don’t think you were lying. I just think you…weren’t telling me everything.”

He sighs. You can see the way his jaw ticks when he clenches it, “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, scooting a little closer to him, placing your hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt down a bit, “It was just…out of character for you, Si. I was really upset and you knew that. It wasn’t like you to just…leave. Just to get laid.”

He finally looks at you, just out of the corner of his eye. You meet the look, offering him an encouraging smile to show that you’re not upset or anything. 

“All night,” he finally mutters, “You’d been kickin’ in your sleep. Kept wakin’ me up.”

You nodded, a look of confusion on your face. You had no idea where this was going.

“You started sayin’ my name,'' he continued, “Moanin’ my name. Fuck, it was drivin’ me crazy.”

Your face flushes hot when you hear that. It all suddenly comes rushing back to you – what you’d been dreaming about. 

“You threw your leg over mine and I could–” he cuts himself off, his throat moving with how hard he swallows.

“Could what?” your voice comes out shockingly breathy. 

He catches it, looking at you. You can see the way his pupils widen immediately when he meets your gaze. It’s like he can see right through you, see the fact you’re dripping into your panties again. Just from this conversation alone. 

“I could feel how fuckin’ wet you were,” he brings a shaky hand up and runs it through his hair before he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “Couldn’t fuckin’ deal with it. I had to…let it out somehow.”

“So you knew that I wanted you…like that?” you find yourself asking.

He scoffs and shakes his head, “Didn’t think about it like that. Figured it was just a dream and that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t just a dream,” you assure, scooting closer to him.

Simon’s breath catches in his throat when you lean over him, resting your hand on the arm rest on his other side, letting it support your weight. You stand on your knees, making you just a little taller than him before you lean down and kiss him. 

He remains completely still, like he’s processing. His hands flounder in the air for a second before he’s carefully pushing you to sit back down. You slump against your heels and look at him, perturbed.

“Why..?”

“I need to make dinner,” he says lamely. 

“Simon…” you admonish, knowing he’s lying. 

He gets up, knees cracking as he does. He winces a little bit before he bends down to pick up the blanket that fell to the floor when he stood. You kept your eyes on him, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You almost let him go but before you can stop him, you grab his arm. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Simon,” you mutter, “I keep trying to make things go further with you but I just keep making a fool of myself and I–”

“‘S not you,” he assures softly, taking your hand in his, “‘S all me, baby.”

“So why…” you frown, “I want you.”

He shakes his head, “Night you told me how you felt. You sounded scared.” 

You remember, the way his touch had made anxiety fill you. You had wanted him, of course, but for some reason it had just been so damn awful at the same time. You hadn’t really dwelled on why that was. 

“It wasn’t ‘cause of you, Si,” you assured, shifting so your feet were on the floor rather than under you, “I promise. I-I was just nervous, I think. That’s all.”

“I don’t want…” he licks his lips, seemingly thinking over his next words carefully before he says them slowly, “I don’t to hear you sound like that with me again. ‘S why I’ve been avoidin’ it. ‘Cause I don’t want you to get scared again.”

You shake your head, rising to your feet, stepping in front of him. You take his hands in yours and squeeze them, “I don’t want to make a fool of myself with you, Simon.”

He frowns, “You know I would never think poorly of you.”

You smile and shrug, “I know that. I think…that time was just…too soon. After that night at the bar and everything that happened. And then the fact I’m so inexperienced that it’s laughable. I think…I just wasn’t ready for it. I needed to go at my own pace and I have been.”

“I don’t want you to push yourself,” he hums, “I know that night at the bar was terrifying,” he brings a hand up to brush over your cheek, “I understand if you’re not goin’ to be ready for a long time. It’s normal to not be ready after what happened to you.”

You huff, “I’ve been trying to show you that I’ve been ready for a while now, Si. I was anxious at first, yes. But now it’s…like a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he mutters, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer. Your breath hitches in your throat and you nod dumbly, “Tell me all about it.”

“L-Like my heart races,” you breathe, “And I feel scared that I’m gonna do something silly and embarrassing but like I want to learn and…and I want to do good for you.”

“Fuck,” Simon groans, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder, “Can’t say shit like that to a man like me, love.”

“Why not?” you whimper, feeling your knees tremble in excitement when you feel his hands start to wander.

“‘Cause…” he whispers, running his hands up your sides, “Makes me think some nasty shit, sweetheart.”

You swallow thickly at the promise in his voice, “Simon…” 

You sound so wrecked already and it makes him moan softly in your ear, “Tell me about it, baby.”

Just like that, you’re spilling your guts to him, “Get so wet for you, Si, all the time. I want you so bad that it hurts.”

“Yeah?” he breathes, finally pulling his head from where he was hiding in your shoulder, tilting your chin up, “Where’s it hurt, baby? Hm? Right in that needy little cunt?”

You whimper immediately, looking up at him with wide, hazy eyes and nod, “T-Tried to touch myself. Thinkin’ about you made it hurt so I couldn’t help myself. Thought about you when I did.”

He hums as you babble to him but his mind latches onto one particular word, “Tried, baby? What do you mean "tried?”

Your cheeks burn hot at the slip up. Would he think you were silly for it?

“C-Can’t do it right,” you confess softly, hoping he doesn’t see how embarrassed you are, “Try so hard but n-nothin’ ever happens.”

Simon moans at that. Loud and unbridled, “What’re you sayin’, baby? That you can’t make yourself cum, s’that it?” You shake your head bashfully, “Fuckin’ hell. That’s adorable.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Si,” you whimper but the seat of your panties is so fucking wet that it’s sticking to you. 

He hums, a predatory smile spreads across his face, “Am I bein’ mean, love?” You nod your head, tearfully staring up at him. It only makes his smile widen, canines popping out, “‘M sorry. Can’t help myself when you tell me ‘bout how you touch your pretty little pussy and just can’t make yourself cum like you need. Think I can do it for you, hm? Want me to try and make you cum?”

You vigorously nod your head, uncaring how fucking needy you look to him. He’s offering to give you what you’ve wanted for years – to give you a real, honest to God orgasm. And you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. 

“Want you on the bed,” he suddenly whispers, “On your back, lose the pants but keep everything else on.”

With a jerk of his head in the direction of the bedroom, you take off. You hear him chuckle behind you at your excitement. He makes sure the door is locked before he heads back to the bedroom. 

You’re there just like he asked, pants pooled on the floor, leaving you in nothing but an old t-shirt of his and a pair of the cutest little lilac colored panties he’s seen. You’ve got your knees pinned together, clenching your thighs but laying perfectly still in waiting for him. 

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he praises, grinning when you whimper and tremble at his words, “Oh, sweet thing likes to be praised, huh?”

You nod your head, “Wanna be good for you, Si.”

“That’s sweet, baby,” he coos, reaching to the back of his collar so he can tug his shirt off of his head. 

Your heart hammers away in your chest when he crawls onto the bed, hands on either side of your head. He looks so big like this, on top of you, completely blocking any view you had of your ceiling and instead filling your viewline with just him. He leans down and kisses you, humming contentedly when you eagerly kiss back. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders as he uses one hand to tug your legs open so he can slot himself between them. 

You cry out when he presses himself against your core. He’s wearing nothing but his jeans but you can feel the heat radiating through the thick material. 

“Shit, look at that,” he whispers, leaning back on his heels to admire the nice little wet patch that has stained your panties, “You already this wet, baby?”

“Kissin’ you always makes me this wet, Si,” you sweetly confess and oh, you are just so precious. 

His hands slide up your stomach, moving your t-shirt up and up until it sits crumpled under your chin. Your tits are bare and move with every gasping breath that you take. 

Simon’s hands are just as rough and warm as you’d expect them to be. His thumbs come up and glide over your nipples until they harden into stiff little peaks for him. 

Then his mouth is wrapping around one, swirling his tongue around it before pulling off with a lewd pop. His hand pinches the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he listens to you whimper and sigh. 

“Please, Si,” you whine, “I-It hurts, please.”

“It hurts?” he hums, leaving a fleeting kiss against the nipple his tongue was torturing just a moment ago, “Where? Hm?”

His hand travels down your body, cupping your cunt through your panties. You gasp, arching your hips just a bit to grind against his palm. He lets you, before he meanly pins your hips down with his other hand. 

“Where, love?” he smooths the pad of his thumb over the seam of your cunt through your panties. The fabric is saturated with your slick, letting him see every part of you through shape alone. His thumb finds your clit, the little bud poking out through the fabric from how hard and swollen it's become, “Here? ‘S it your pretty clit that hurts, love?”

You nod, eyes rolling back in your head when he presses his thumb against the bud, trapping it under his finger so he can roll mean little circles over it. You’d be mindlessly rutting your hips by now if he didn’t have his other arm slung over your hips to keep you pinned nice and still like he wants. 

It already feels so different than when you touched yourself. Maybe because it’s him or maybe because he’s so experienced. 

That thought makes you equal parts jealous and equal parts turned on. He’d slept with plenty of people but now he was using that expertise to make you feel good. 

“Can you take them off, please?” you whine, pitchy and sweet from arousal. 

“Asked so sweetly for me,” he coos, hitching his thumbs into the band of your panties before giving them a firm tug. 

You quickly lift your hips, letting him tug them down and off of your feet. You expect him to toss them away but instead he holds them up, thumbing over the slickness in the crotch. You watch him with wide eyes as he analyzes it. Your  breath hitches when he suddenly brings them towards his face and licks a wide stripe of the fabric, moaning when he gets a good laste of your syrupy sweet slick.

“Simon!” you gasp – admonish, leaning up to snatch them out of his grasp. 

His eyes open, he hadn’t even realized he’d closed them, to look at you. He licks his lips like a dog licking its chops when it tastes something real delicious. 

He doesn’t even comment on what he just did or the pure embarrassment that is written all over your face. Instead, he grips underneath your knees and yanks you down the bed towards him so your hips are situated in his lap. 

“Jus’ let me touch you, love,” he whispers, “I’ll work a nice little orgasm out of you in no time, yeah?”

You nod your head because you trust him. You know he’s going to be able to give you what you need so badly. You don’t even question it – especially when you feel how good it feels when he uses his thumbs to spread your folds open for him. He groans when he sees the sticky strings of slick that display just how turned on you are. 

Pretty little hole clenching sporadically around nothing, dribbling more creamy arousal that makes his tongue feel like lead in his mouth. A pretty clit that twitches and throbs under his scrutinizing gaze. But you make no move to cover yourself and hide from his gaze. 

He finally touches the bud directly and it’s like electricity strikes through you. You lose control of your body as your back arches and your thighs violently twitch. Your cheeks burn when you hear him chuckle softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive,” he huffs, a crooked little grin on his face as he brushes his thumb over your clit again, garnering the same reaction as before from you, “Fuck, can’t believe you’re this sensitive and can’t make yourself cum.”

“‘S cause it’s you, Si,” you sweetly confess.

And it’s true. Having him touch you like this directly – feeling his callused skin over the most sensitive little part of you is euphoric. It doesn’t feel anything like when you touch yourself at all. It feels magnified, you feel like a live wire and everything feels like too much. But you don’t do anything to impede him because you trust him more than anything – especially like this, with your body. 

He replaced his thumb with his middle finger, prodding at your entrance. You almost think he’s going to press inside you but he doesn’t – instead, he gathers your slick up on his finger and drags it up to your clit. He softly circles the bud, cock kicking against his thigh when you sigh and croon so sweetly for him. 

Your cunt makes sticky noises as he continues doing this, gathering your arousal and lathering your precious bud up with it so he can so softly play with it. His touches aren’t enough to actually work you to the edge, it’s much too slow and soft but it feels good. He waits for you to relax against the bed, lashes fluttering as you whimper and twitch on the bed for him.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your trembling thigh, “Relax f’me. Want you nice and soft for me so I can get my fingers in this tight little cunt.”

You gasp at that, partly in excitement and also in apprehension. You’ve never actually put anything inside yourself before – except once, you put your finger in and it burned so you never tried it again. 

“D-Dont…” you find yourself muttering, making him freeze. He thinks you’ve changed your mind, anxiety getting the better of you and he’s fully prepared to propel himself away from you at a moment's notice, “Be gentle, okay?”

His gaze softens when he looks at you, “Won’t hurt you, love. I promise.”

You remain relaxed for him when he carefully prods you with his middle finger. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, not rubbing it or anything, just keeping a nice pressure that keeps you sagged against the pillows. 

It doesn’t feel anything like when you tried that one time with yourself. Everything is so much wetter and more pliant. It’s like your walls just suck the digit in, even though it’s so much bigger than your own finger. 

You sigh softly when you finally have something to clench around. Simon gives you a sweet kiss to the spot right underneath your belly button in silent praise. He keeps his lidded, brown eyes on your face, watching every little expression you make with rapt attention. 

He slowly and carefully fucks his middle finger into you, feeling the way you slowly relax around him, soaking his skin with your arousal. He smooths his free hand up the length of your body, abandoning your clit to wrap his palm around your breast. You place your own hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. 

“How’s that feel, love?” he asks, still sliding his finger in and out of you.

“Okay…” you reply, keeping your hand over his on your chest, “But it…um…”

“What?” he urges, “Tell me what you feel.”

“I-It feels nice but…” you trail off and he hums, nodding his head.

“Doesn’t feel good?” he finishes for you. You nod your head and he laughs softly, “I know, baby. Jus’ tryin’ to get you used to the feeling and then I’ll make it feel real good, alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper but he can tell you’re not too convinced that it’s going to feel much better.

You’re worried that the same thing is going to happen – it’ll feel really good and then you’re never going to be able to climb over that wall. You hate to imagine disappointing him, failing to get off. You’d hate for him to put all this work in and you just can’t cum in the end. 

“Hey,” he coos, “Get out of your head, pretty. Don’t worry about a thing, alright?”

You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, allowing yourself to relax against the bed again. Simon waits for you to be nice and pliant around his finger before he starts to fit his ring finger alongside it. He catches sight of the furrow in your brow when he stretches you around two of his fingers. It burns but when Simon brings his thumb back to your clit, tapping against the bud, it vanishes. Your thighs twitch and you whimper, walls clenching in time with the little taps until the burning vanishes completely.

“There we are,” he praises, “Knew you could do it, sweetheart.”

“A-Are you gonna add another?” you find yourself asking.

“Later,” he responds, scissoring the two fingers he has snug inside your cunt, “‘M a big man, love. Gonna need you nice and stretched for me.”

You whimper at that, walls clenching around his fingers as he slowly begins to fuck them in and out of you. Your cheeks burn when you hear the loud, squishing noises your hole makes every time he stuffs them back inside. 

After a moment of just getting you used to being stretched on two of his thick digits, he suddenly crooks them up and hits something inside you that makes your back arch. It causes a tingling feeling that you’ve never experienced to heat your tummy every time he touches it.

“Simon!” you squeal, trying to clench your thighs closed but his broad shoulders keep them open, “Th-That feels-!”

“I know, baby,” he coos cockily, grinding his fingertips against that little spot that makes you so gooey and creamy around his fingers, “Feels real good right there, I know.”

Your back arches and your jaw drops. You can’t do anything but moan and cry out as he fucks against that spot. He’s urged on by your sounds of pure pleasure, eyes flicking between where he’s got your pretty cunt spread open and the euphoric expressions you can’t do anything to hide.

It’s so precious, seeing you so open and loud for him. You don’t do anything to hide your sounds of pleasure nor do you even think of faking any of them for his sake. Every little thing you’re feeling, you express, and you can’t help yourself because it’s all so new and so much.

That hot, tingling feeling in your core only intensifies with every experienced stroke of his fingers. Your eyes are rolling back every time he touches that magnificent spot inside you, abusing it with his fingers until your walls are soft and malleable for him again.

And then he brings his index finger into it. He’s even more slow and careful as he fits it in beside the other two fingers. It doesn’t burn like when he had given you his second finger but it’s a certain stretch that simply feels strange. 

He gets you stuffed open on his three fingers, up to the third knuckle. You’re spread so wide and squeeze his fingers so tight that it makes him moan when he thinks about what it will feel like around his cock. 

If you’re this tight around just his fingers then you’re going to feel positively euphoric around him. 

“Simon…” you coo, reaching down to card your fingers through his hair. 

He grunts in acknowledgement, but is unwilling to part his gaze from the sight of the creamy mess you’ve begun to leave on his fingers. Your pretty clit is twitching and so swollen, glistening from your juices and he suddenly has the inescapable desire to wrap his mouth around it. 

You’re not even looking when he decides to do it. It’s like he can’t stop himself. 

All you feel is something wet and hot wrap around the little bud. You practically wail at the feeling of his tongue sliding against it. Your feet kick aimlessly, hitting his back and shoulders as you flail beneath his body. 

You sob his name, yanking harshly on his hair in a way that hurts but he’s not going to stop you. He knows it’s mean to do this, not even warning you or easing you into the feeling before he’s suckling your clit. His tongue slips in circles around it, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. His ears practically ring from how loud you’re crying out for him. 

His three fingers remain buried inside you but he’s hardly able to move them from how tight you’re squeezing them. All he can do is grind his fingers against your g-spot but it only makes your pretty body more twitchy and makes you squirm even more beneath him. He has to hold you down so you can’t get away. 

He doesn’t want your precious pussy to be ripped away from him, your juices are making his taste buds tingle – you taste so damn good. 

That familiar heat begins to grow in your core – one you’ve experienced many times before by yourself. You cry and wail for him, sobbing his name and gripping his hair. 

“S-Si, don’t stop, please, please, please–” you choke on your own cries, slamming your head into the pillows as your back arches painfully hard. 

He grunts lowly, blonde lashes fluttering as he watches your body’s pure, unfiltered reactions to this pleasure. He knows you’re getting close, can feel you clenching around him and your clit pulsing on his tongue in time with your heartbeat. 

You feel yourself reaching that wall, the one you can never overcome. But it feels different this time, the pleasure isn’t slowing. It’s not fading like it always does when you’ve got your own fingers on your bud. 

It always seems to slip out of your grasp by this point.

This is it, you think. You’re going to cum. You’re finally going to fucking cum. 

Then everything stops.

His tongue is gone from your clit and his fingers are nowhere to be found. Simon’s shoulders rise and fall as he watches your face flicker through a range of emotions before your eyes fill with tears and you look at him – utterly pitiful and hopeless.

“Wh-Why…” you finally whisper, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. 

Your cunt pulses and throbs around nothing, the heat of your orgasm quickly dissipating, leaving that horribly empty and unsatisfying feeling in its wake. 

“Sorry, baby,” he coos, genuine and soft as he leans up to kiss your face, “That was mean, huh? ‘M sorry. Jus’ want you to have your first orgasm on a cock, love.”

That doesn’t do anything to quell your disappointment but you nod anyway, wiping away some stray tears that trickle from your eyes. 

“Please,” you breathlessly whisper, “Please, Simon. Want your cock, please. I-I was so close. It felt so good,” you start babbling, eyes falling to the hard outline of his cock in his jeans, “I wanna cum so bad, Si. Y-You promised. Please, just give me your cock. Please? Please? Simon!”

Simon’s mouth goes dry as he hears your babbled begging. Fuck, you’re absolutely aching for it. All you can think about is cumming. He never thought he’d get to hear you beg for him like this, so pathetically. You should be embarrassed, begging for cock like this when you’ve only just now gotten your first taste of being stretched open. Yet here you are fuckin’ crying for it.

His cock drools pre down his thigh, he can feel how wet his boxers have become from how much he’s leaking it. He’s aching in his jeans – he can’t pretend he doesn’t want it just as badly as you do.

“Shit, alright!” he snarls, wrapping a hand around your throat to force you to look at him. You gasp at the rough treatment, “Jus’ shut up and I’ll give it to you, yeah?”

You obediently nod your head, still staring up at him with those wide, teary eyes. He tries to act like his hands aren’t fucking trembling when he yanks his belt off. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this needy – this excited to get his cock inside a pussy. 

But it’s you. You’re special. 

He loves you. This isn’t like the one night stands and hookups he’s had in the past. This is different. 

He feels like a fumbling teenager the way he clumsily yanks his belt out of the loops and shoves his jeans down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock, big and heavy, hangs under its own weight – it never slaps up against his stomach. He wasn’t just chatting shit when he said he was a big guy. 

He wrapped his hand around himself, giving it a few, firm tugs. He feels your eyes on him, watching the way he touches himself and it sends heat through him. He scoots closer to you again, pulling back his foreskin to show the fat, leaky head that he meanly taps against your clit. 

You gasp a cute little ‘ah!’ when he does that brings a smile to his face. He can’t say he’s the best lay for a virgin because he’s so big and he’s a brute – it’s in his nature. But he’s trying his best for you. 

“Alright, baby,” he coos, leaning on one forearm above your head, draping his big body over yours. He easily manhandles you into position, caging your knees against your chest and wrapping himself around you, “Just relax for me, hm? Can you do that f’me?”

You nod your head and shakily put your hands on his shoulders, cupping his jaw to bring him down to kiss you. He sighs into your lips, using his free hang to grip the base of his cock, prodding against your hole. You’re so slippery that it slides out of you and slips up your clit. You whimper at the feeling, thighs twitching at the stimulation. 

When he finally starts to press inside, your nails bite into his shoulders. It stings – it hurts. He’s so big, making your poor little cunt burn the deeper he presses himself. The head pops in and your hips jump at the feeling, his cock slipping back out. 

He huffs, dropping his forehead against your shoulder, “Fuck, sit still.”

“S-Sorry!” you whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Shh,” he sighs, kissing your cheek, “‘S okay, baby. Hurts, huh?”

“A little,” you whimper, trying to downplay it so he won’t stop.

He hums and presses a kiss against the corner of your mouth. He knows that working an orgasm out of you before making you take his cock would be the nice thing to do but he’s selfish. He wants to feel your orgasm around his cock – where you deserve to have it. 

It’s your very first orgasm after all. It needs to be good and he knows he can make it real good once he can get you speared on his cock. 

So he grips himself again, sitting up for just a moment to lewdly spit on your pussy. It hits your clit and trickles down where he catches it with the head of his cock. He leans over your body and starts to push in again. This time he tucks his arms under your shoulders and pins you impossibly against him, leaving you with nowhere to run when he starts to press into you. 

You whimper, feet kicking against his back when he pushes deeper than before – past the head. He knows it hurts, you’re stretched beyond your limit and he waits with bated breath for you to say the word and tell him to stop. 

But you don’t. 

You just grapple your arms around his waist and dig your nails in. His skin is sweaty by now and it makes getting any purchase on him difficult. You let out a watery little whimper that has him freezing. You’re speared on half his cock when he finally looks at you. 

Your eyes are teary and they slowly drip down your cheeks.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, brushing some away with his thumb.

You immediately shake your head, no hesitation, “No! K-Keep goin’, Si.”

“Don’t cry, pretty,” he shushes, keeping his grip under your shoulders and his hips pinned firmly against yours so you can’t squirm when he starts pressing in again. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, eyes fluttering from the ache that settles where he’s stretching you wide, “‘S okay, just take a deep breath. ‘M almost in, love, you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me. Takin’ all of my cock so deep, just like you deserve. Hear me? This cock s’all yours now, yeah? Can have it whenever you need it.”

Your walls spasm around his cock as he talks, making him groan low in his chest. He’s almost there, can feel his balls starting to tap against you the deeper he gets until finally, his hips meet yours and you wail. 

He prods painfully against your cervix and he knows that it’s uncomfortable but he’s not willing to pull back just yet. He needs you to get used to being stretched and stuffed full of every inch of him. He takes care to do slow, gentle grinds, his pelvis catching your clit that eventually makes you relax. 

“That’s it,” he praises, “Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

He finally eases off of you, balancing his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, hovering over you. He slowly pulls his hips back, watching you slump against the bed when he finally stops pressing on your cervix. 

He finally starts fucking you, sliding his cock out just a bit before rolling his hips forward again. It's slow and soft, just testing the waters and getting you used to this new stimulation. 

It feels entirely different from his fingers. His cock is bigger, fills you so much more, touches deeper. 

His cock reaches spots deep inside you that his fingers didn’t even reach. But he’s permanently pressing against that spot his fingers were torturing. It feels so fucking good. 

Simon can see the way your eyes roll back as he carefully fucks you. Your first cock and you’re taking it so damn well. It makes him want to see how much more you can take but he knows he needs to ease you into it, he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“Si…” you sigh softly, blinking as you struggle not to float off and become drunk with pleasure. 

“I know, pretty,” he coos, kissing your cheek before leaning back on his heels, fastening the thrusts of his hips. 

You can’t keep quiet now, mouth falling open to let out the most precious sounds of pure pleasure. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, like he’s hung the moon and stars in the sky just for you. His cock fucking throbs at the look of wonder that crosses your face. He knows you’re getting close, can feel how tight you’re clamping around him and he can see how much you’re creaming around him – making a mess at the base of his cock and in the thatch of curls there. 

“You gonna cum?” he coos, grinning when you shake your head, “Of course you are. I can fuckin’ feel it, baby. Know you got one for me, go ahead. Cum on my cock real nice, c’mon.”

“C-Can’t,” you whimper. It’s too much. You’re so wet. It’s fucking messy but you feel yourself at that damn wall, hanging on a thread and waiting for euphoria to come but it doesn’t, “Please! Simon! Please, I-I can’t! Please, please, please…”

“Fuck,” his hisses when he hears you begging to cum on his cock, “Come on then, baby. You can do it. Just let it go, let me fuck it outta you.”

You toss your head back into the pillows as a sob is ripped from your chest. As if he can sense how much you’re struggling, he brings his thumb down to press against your clit. Your eyes fucking roll, only the whites of them visible. You clench down around him like a vice and it only takes a couple little swipes of his thumb for you to tumble over the edge. 

It feels unlike anything you could have ever imagined. Pleasure soars through you and your hearing cuts out. It feels like you lose control of your body, unable to do anything but thrash and twitch as he fucks you through it. You’re not sure if you would prefer him to stop or keep going because it’s all so fucking much that it hurts. 

You’re gushing around him, drenching his cock in sticky, creamy cum that drips in thick strings down his balls. Holy fuck.

It feels like hours that you’re speared on his cock, cumming and cumming before it finally leaves you and you collapse against the bed. You’re still twitching, entire body shivering until he finally slows his thrusts to soft little rolls of his hips. He takes his thumb off of your clit and you’re thankful because it was starting to become unpleasant. 

You swallow despite how dry your mouth is, eyes finally focusing on him. His brows are furrowed and his bottom lip is tucked into his mouth. Pretty, brown eyes are locked on you and you suddenly feel shy. 

Had he been watching you the whole time? You hoped you didn’t make any ugly faces or embarrassing noises. 

“Fuck,” he coos, seemingly sensing your shame, “That was a fuckin’ orgasm, love.”

You’re panting, you realize. And you’re tired. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life. 

All you can think is that you’ve been missing out on that your whole life? Now you’re not sure you’ll be able to even live without it ever again. 

Simon’s hands cup under your knees and pin them to your chest. You gasp as he bends you as he sees fit. You’re limp, so completely drunk on the pleasure you just experienced that you simply let him. 

But you realize he’s even deeper like this – and it doesn’t hurt like it did before. He’s pressing against your back wall and it actually feels good. You feel so sensitive inside, like you can feel every twitch of his cock. 

He’s still languidly dragging his cock in and out of you. It’s a fucking mess between your legs, you’ve cum so fucking much that it’s everywhere. He’s never been covered like this before and it’s fucking hot. 

Your cum sticks between the two of you in little strings that break and reform every time his hips meet and leave yours. Your little clit is puffy and swollen from your orgasm and he wants to press his thumb against it again but he knows the poor little thing is much too sensitive still. 

Your legs flop uselessly as he fucks you, eases you past overstimulation until you’re sweetly cooing for him again. He takes that chance to fuck you properly again, intent on finding his own orgasm deep in your cunt. 

His heavy balls slap against your ass. He wants to cum. He plans to make himself cum like this, just using your pretty pussy. But then he sees your eyes widen again and your lips part almost curiously and his eyes narrow.

“You feel it again, huh, sweetheart?” he goads, shifting his weight on his knees so his hips are pressed even closer to yours. 

“C-Can’t,” you whisper, the same thing you had before. But it’s different now, “W-Won’t be able to, Si.”

“S that a challenge, love?” he teases, a crooked little smile on his face. You sleepily shake your head, “Hmm, I think I can fuck another one out of you. One orgasm won’t be enough, two is a good number for now. Until I train this little cunt to cum for me all night long.”

You whimper, reaching out the claw at his forearms where he pins your knees to your chest. You’re held so uselessly open, cunt completely vulnerable to his fat cock stuffing you full. His pelvis hits your clit in a way that makes the little bud tingle and your cunt clenches pathetically around him with every thrust he gives you. 

Sweet little ‘ah, ah, ah’s’ are punched from your lungs every time he sinks completely inside. He’s gripping your knees harshly, squeezing where he has a grip as his own orgasm starts to creep up on him but he’s going to give you another orgasm. He has to make you cum again, to see you lost in pleasure like that once more. He knows that will push him over the edge, give him what he needs. He wants to cum with you, fill you up while you’re in the throes of pure pleasure that only he has ever given you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasps, fighting the feeling of his own eyes rolling back in favor of watching you. 

He loves the way you wear everything you feel on your face. From the looks of wonder when it feels really good to the little rolls of your eyes when he makes it hurt just a bit. It’s so cute. 

Makes him want to play around with that little part of you – be a little mean to you. 

“Cum,” he growls, fighting his own orgasm down, “Fuckin’ cum right now.”

“I can’t!” you wail, kicking against his hold on your knees, pressing down to spread you open even further. 

His hips slam against yours, loud slaps and slick noises of your gooey cunt filling his ears, “You can. You will. Cum, sweetheart. You better fuckin’ cum.”

But you shake your head. It’s so close, you can feel it. It’s creeping up on you and you want it so bad. You want to feel that pleasure again. But you’re not even sure you’re going to be able to cum again, it feels so much more sensitive than before. It’s too much. 

Simon bares his teeth, letting go of one of your legs to drift between your thighs. Your eyes widen, you think he’s going to rub it again – it’s so sensitive that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take it. 

But instead, he does something else.

You hear it before you feel it, a soft little slap followed by the feeling of being electrocuted. Simon watches you with lidded eyes to see how you react. Just like he expected, you wail and your body gives a mean twitch at the impact. 

So he does it again. 

And again. 

And again.

Not too hard, just enough for it to hurt a little bit. A sting against a terribly sensitive little bud. It’s mean – he’s mean. But he can’t fucking help it. 

He needs you to cum for him again.

“Cum,” he snarls, giving your clit another slap.

As if on command, it sends you over the edge. Your legs kick out and he has to abandon your clit to hold you down, pinning you harshly to the bed as he uses all his weight to fuck down into your spasming little cunt. You’re cumming so hard around him that you stop breathing. He hears the hitch of breath and doesn’t hear the exhale. All you do is lay there, cry for him and cum.

He finds his end just as violently, tossing his head back to moan into the room as cum erupts from his cock. His thrusts grow sloppy as he milks the orgasm out of himself, voice breaking as he whimpers from how fucking good it feels. 

Like no orgasm he’s ever experienced. It’s like he can’t stop cumming, filling you up so much that it oozes out from around his cock. 

You’re trembling underneath him when he finally comes down, tearfully gazing up at him with your mouth agape, struggling to catch your breath.

“N-No more,” you pathetically whimper, legs twitching from the aftershocks, “C-Can’t take anymore, Si.”

“Shh,” he shushes, letting your legs go so you can relax comfortably as he pulls his cock from your pussy.

It’s twitching and clenching sporadically, still coming down from your orgasm. It makes his cum drip out of your cunt, a mess that spreads to the already messy sheets. Your cum and his mix together to make a sticky, gooey mess that makes his mouth water. He wants to eat it up, stuff his tongue into your tight little hole and swallow it all down. 

But he can’t. Maybe next time, he vows.

His cock gives a valiant kick at the thought of getting to do this again. He sits on his heels, gazing at his messy cock as if softens. He feels dazed, almost drunk. 

Then he hears the softest little sniffle from you and his eyes snap up to your face to find your crumpled expression and tears falling down your face. You cover your face with your hands and earnestly begin to cry.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” he coos, laying beside you to tuck you into his chest.

“I-I don’t know why I’m crying,” you sob, wrapping your arms around his waist as you cry into him. 

“It happens,” he assures, “It was a lot and you’re just a little overwhelmed s’all. Just let it out, baby.”

And you do, weakly sobbing into his chest until it feels like you can’t cry anymore. He holds you through it all, rubbing your back and cooing sweet nothings in your ear until you grow silent. 

“Alright, love?” he asks.

“S-Sorry, Si,” you sniffle, finally pulling out of the spot in his arms you were hiding in, “I-I don’t want you to think I didn’t want it or that it was bad. I just…”

He gives you a soft smile, leaning forward to kiss you. It’s short and sweet, “I don’t think that. Like I said, it happens. Sometimes people just cry after sex, nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure?” you sniffle, wiping your cheeks dry when the tears finally stop.

“Positive,” he sits up, “Let’s get cleaned up, alright? We need to change the damn sheets, fuckin’ hell.”

You giggle as you look down at the sheets where a very visible dark spot is sitting where you once laid. You don’t even have time to be embarrassed before he’s swooping you off of the bed and escorting you to the bathroom.

It’s too small for both of you to fit but you make it work. He wipes you down with a warm cloth before hopping into the shower to rinse and clean himself before he gets out and lets you do the same. While you do that, he changes the bedding completely and replaces it with new sheets and blankets for the two of you to sleep in together. 

When you finally stumble into the bedroom, he wraps his arms around you and urges you onto the bed. You giggle as you flop onto the bed before he crawls in after you and covers the both of you up, wrapping himself around you until you’re tucked securely against him. 

“I take it you liked it?” he finally whispers.

You shyly nod, “I-It was um…fun.”

“Felt real good, huh?” he teases, grinning wolfishly when you whimper.

“Y-Yeah,” you whisper, “It felt really good. I already want to do it again.”

Simon groans, hugging you tightly before shaking his head, “You’re gonna be insatiable. Gonna give my cock a run for its money.”

You giggle, affectionately petting his hair before he looks at you with the softest expression you’ve ever seen. It’s like his eyes are sparkling in the low light of the bedroom. He leans forward and ever so softly kisses your forehead, then your nose, before he reaches your lips. He pecks them softly, pulling back for just a second before he kisses you again. 

“I love you,” he whispers, so soft that you almost miss it. 

And your heart begins to race. You almost struggle to find the words to reciprocate. But when you do, he smiles and tucks you against him again, big arms wrapped around you like a bear hug.

It’s almost surreal. You can’t believe you’re here after everything – with him. 

Like you’ve dreamed your whole life, he loves you just like you love him. 

PART ONE.

do not modify, translate, or repost

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

SYNOPSIS: Jake Sim has got to be more bearable compared to the others. Unlike the rest of his frat members, Jake is friendlier, making him an approachable figure. You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year, but Jake found you wandering like a lost puppy and was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go. Even after three years, his kindness is engraved in your mind. So, when Jake approaches you, you have little reason to suspect that he has an ill-intention towards you, especially when you have completely fallen for his trap. How can you not? With that charming grin on his handsome countenance and how he makes you comfortable enough to be yourself around him. It’s so easy to be with Jake. Little do you know that he is every bit corruptive like the rest of the knights.

PAIRING: jake sim x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, mentions of smoking, virgin & subtle fat shaming, mild bullying, sexual assault, humiliation, profanities, stalker & pervert jake, obsession, corruption, violence, yandere, blood, murder, masturbation, loss of virginity, smut, unprotected sex (no!), softdom!jake (he may be rough at times), ghostface!jake, knife play, grinding, fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, thighs slapping (jake is obsessed with your thighs), manhandling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of mental illness, toxicity, jake becomes an asshole somewhere in the end, slight angst, crying, heartbreak.

WORD COUNT: 28.3k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, zerobaseone, le sserafim, ive, aespa.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.

PLAYLIST: Often - The Weeknd, Under the Influence - Chris Brown, Meddle About - Chase Atlantic, Church - Chase Atlantic, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Lost in the Fire - Gesaffelstein & The Weeknd, Sinners - Ari Abdul, Cold - Maroon 5.

RUBY'S NOTE: honestly, idk what to feel about this (as always i don't feel satisfied with my writing no matter what lmao), especially the wackass smuts, so please lower your expectations. happy reading!

PART 1, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7 ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

The smirk tugging at the corner of his plump pink lips adorns his appealing visage as well as his dark gaze, which is beguiling for anyone to heed his command at a single glance without hesitation and enthrals the sisters who are sauntering in his vicinity.

He initiates an enticing wink at the two of them, whose cheeks are emblazoned with pink as they release giggles before one of them composes herself quickly and grabs the other sister with her to walk in haste, leaving him smug at the fact that he still has an effect on ladies. Not even the holy sisters can escape from his allure. This has already been proven in the past, where he seduced two holy sisters and managed to score points when he fucked them on this very sacred ground.

Of course, they were caught engaging in illicit activity by the higher authorities of the church, resulting in the two holy sisters' dismissal from their duties and the church. But did this affect him? Not in the slightest, considering he is the son of both a diplomat and a congregant of this very church. Just like his three best friends, he can get away with anything without having to face any repercussions.

Even if his actions do earn disapproval from others, no one dares meddle in any affairs pertaining to Jake Sim.

His eyes dart around the interior of the divine building, his lips curling into a sneer. Oh, how he hates the church. Just like the rest of his family members, he is a Christian as well, and unlike them, he hates being one.

But once upon a time, he loved and used to take pride in his religion. Whenever his mother, who was a regular member of the church and still is, wanted to go to church, he would tag along with her keenly. He knew and memorised every verse of the Bible and hymns to the heart.

As a matter of fact, he used to be a good and obedient son who often steered clear of trouble or anything that might displease his parents. He even earned the moniker ‘church boy’ given by his peers, and he took pride in it. He can’t deny the fact that he sees you in him, as he was the exact person you are.

However, it all crumbled when he and his family flew over to Australia on that long summer break when he was thirteen. Maybe it was because he affiliated himself with the wrong company behind his parents’ backs, or maybe it was because he had witnessed his father’s first infidelity, in which his father was fucking some woman who eventually turned out to be his own secretary. What made it worse was the fact that it happened in a church.

Jake knew that his father had committed a sin, and naturally, Jake expected his father to make a confession and ask for forgiveness, but he didn’t expect that his father would continue to commit the same sin over and over.

From then on, Jake didn’t see his father like he used to. His hatred for his father runs so deep that the sight of his face simply enrages him. He hates it even more because his father is a pathological liar and remains a cheater without his mother knowing about his infidelity. His father’s infidelity plays a major part in the reason why he doesn’t have faith in religion anymore. 

A sigh leaves him. Just as boredom nearly strikes Jake, his eyes catch the movement of two figures from afar before they zero in on the familiar face who has ignited a newfound desire within him since last night. Dark interest gleams in his eyes as he scans your overall fit. 

Jake can’t deny that there is a tinge of disappointment in him when he sees that your curves cannot be discerned due to the thickness of your black coat that hugs your body as well as your wide black pants. He recalls how you looked truly exquisite in that skimpy skimpy dress that accentuated contours impeccably, and how he got hard for you twice in one night.

Truth be told, Jake doesn’t mind the slightest when a girl chooses to dress modestly or how a girl chooses to dress in general. What matters to him is that he can get them to strip off their clothes and bare naked for him before he gives them the best fucks of their lives. Even if the girl is either too thick or too thin, it doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can dick it into their holes. 

His eyes trail down to your clothed chest as he tucks the bottom of his lips between his teeth. The sight of your lustrous cleavage flashes in his mind vividly, and he can already imagine how plump your breasts are. His cock starts to harden as he fantasises about leaving his marks on your porcelain skin all over your chest while his hands grope and feel the suppleness of your breasts.

Jake shakes his head lightly at the thought and attempts to ignore his hardness before returning his gaze to your face, where there is a smile on your lips while your cheeks are deepened with dimples as you are conversing with the priest.

Jake finds himself lifting a subtle smile from his lips upon seeing your smile. Throughout the university years he has known you, he has always found you adorable. Pretty? Maybe, but you were definitely adorable. Which was also the reason why he didn’t find you enticing. Plus, you often steered clear of any signs of trouble, so he also found you dull.

Jake usually targets women who can most likely match his vigour both in and out of the bedroom, women who are adventurous and perpetually up for a challenge, and who are intrinsically spontaneous and carefree. Those are his kind of women, and they are the ones who are capable of turning him on. 

You are most definitely not his type of woman. Unlike those women who have associated with him in the past, you are not anything like them. You are known as Crestview Meadow’s good girl, the epitome of a perfect student whose GPA is worthy of being envious of, and the kind of student that every professor prefers to teach.

Above all, you are the embodiment of purity ─ not just in the way you carry yourself with grace and dignity everywhere you go, but because there is an ambience you exude that anyone can immediately discern the rarity of goodness within you.

But the fact that you’re good makes you dull and boring, especially when you are constantly surrounded by those friends of yours who are the renowned it girls of the university. It is absurd to him that your friends seem to be protecting you from anyone outside of their inner circle and any cruelty, almost as if they are infantilizing you.

No matter. He will get what he wants, even if he has to ruin what you have with your friends. A smirk tugs at his lips as he proceeds to saunter towards you with his hands tucked in his pocket pants. If only you knew how hypocritical your so-called friends were.

The smirk on his lips drops when he sees the priest touch your shoulder, and his lips deepen into a frown at the close proximity between the two of you. A muscle pulses in his jaw while his footsteps hasten, wanting nothing more than to rip his hand away from your shoulder.

The idea of any man touching you ignites a newfound sensation in him, and he has never felt this way towards any woman ─ those same women whom he had slept with. He recalls vividly when he saw Namgil hovering over you with his hands all over you on Devil's Night, and that was when he saw red in his vision. No one gets to touch you unless it's him.

The sound of his footsteps disrupts the conversation you have been engaging with the priest, prompting you to cease, and your head turns to look at him with widening eyes, but Jake remains his gaze on the priest, and a cold smile touches his lips.

“Father, it’s been more than awhile.” Jake greets, the coldness emanating from him is discernible to you. His eyes dart at the priest’s hand that remains on your shoulder, and the familiar whisper of the devil is encouraging him to break his hand for daring to touch what is his.

“Jake, what a pleasant surprise!” The priest, however, is oblivious to the malicious intent glinting in Jake’s eyes. “How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well.” The lie easily rolls off his tongue. He hasn’t even been checking on his mother, not that she cares enough or whatsoever.

Jake shifts his gaze to you, who is staring at him with indecipherable sentiment glinting in your pretty eyes that nearly mesmerised him. He offers you a smile. “Y/N. I didn’t know you were a regular member of this church.”

Another lie. He knows everything about you, including that you used to visit this church whenever you had free time. He knows that you used to attend church in your neighbouring area regularly, and he knows that you live in a relatively small two-story house, which is rather homey compared to his family’s mansion. He knows your birth date, your favourite colour, and basically any sort of information he wants to find out about you. It took him a span of weeks, and that includes quasi-stalking you even now.

Jake admits that he has grown obsessed with you despite the fact that you are not his ideal type, even before Devil's Night, and there are moments where he fantasises about you even when he doesn't want to.

Jake is curious about you, and his curiosity was sparked long before Devil’s Night. He wants to learn and explore you ─ what makes you different from the others and why there is goodness in you—because he doesn’t believe that there is goodness in this corrupted world. So, he began the process of obtaining information from certain individuals and observing you keenly from afar. He was seamless at it, to the point where you didn’t even realise how often his eyes were on you.

Above all, Jake wants to experiment on you with the intention of dimming that light inside of you, wanting to intoxicate you in a way you won’t even see it coming.

His eyes briefly flicker down at the familiar ring on your forefinger that glimmers under the artificial lights above the ceiling. He knows that it’s not his for the taking, even though he will be the first to take you to his bed soon. 

His gaze returns to yours, and he watches as you blink your eyes, looking a tad surprised, as though you had expected him to disregard your existence. “I’m not. I visit whenever I’m available.” You tell him with an awkward smile gracing your pink lips. “Are you one as well?”

Your soft voice as well as your politeness are something he has always admired, and kindness is one of your qualities that has always remained constant even when others treat you unkindly.

Before he can answer, the priest beats him to it, “Jake is my good friend’s son, but I always refer to him as my nephew, as I knew him when he was young.” The priest gives Jake a warm smile.

A flicker of surprise passes by in your eyes. “Oh, I see. What a small world.” You say, smiling softly and darting your eyes back to Jake. “I’ll get going first. See you around on campus, Jake.”

“Of course.” Jake reciprocates your smile, to which your eyes flicker briefly at his lips that don’t go unnoticed by him, before you proceed to walk away while clutching the strap of your sling purse. 

A frown touches his lips when he notices how you limp as you advance forward, even though you look like you're trying your best not to give away the fact that you're limping.

Jake remains rooted to the ground, his eyes watching your figure get further until you disappear from his sight. 

“What did she come here for?” Jake inquires with the priest. There are no traces of warmth in his tone, while something dark shadows his features.

The priest flattens his lips before sighing. “You know that I can’t disclose any information─”

“Need I remind you that the reason this church remains standing is because of the funds my mother made?” Jake reminds him calmly, and yet his tone sounds sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “I can easily withdraw those funds, and my mother wouldn’t bat an eye.”

The priest knows well that Jake has the power to do so, and so the elder acquiesces. “She came here to confess her sins.”

Jake raises a single eyebrow at him. “And what were her sins?”

Reluctance resides in the priest as well as the guilt that feels heavy in his heart, but he doesn’t wield enough power to defend himself against the affluent son of his good friend. “I think you have an inkling, son. Surely, you must’ve known she was there during Devil’s Night.”

“Maybe I do.” Jake unfurls a smirk at the priest before patting his shoulder. “Thank you for your service, Father.” The mockery Jake elicits doesn’t go unnoticed by the priest, but the elder smiles weakly in return.

 ▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Your phone buzzes as it vibrates on the table for the ninth time, and you don’t bother to spare a glance at your phone screen, knowing that it is either Yunjin, Wonyoung, or Karina. You haven’t been meeting them eye-to-eye since two days ago, and even if they asked you questions, you only gave them vague answers in a curt tone before fleeing your dorm in haste.

After what happened, you started seeing them in a different light. You can’t help but feel uncomfortable around them, and specifically, Yunjin. Although it has been three days since Devil’s Night, the overall events that transpired remain vivid in your mind, unable to erase them.

As for Kazuha, Winter, and the others, you remain amiable with them as usual, but you keep a safe distance between yourself and them, and even they notice your eccentric behaviour that differs from how you usually are. You need some time to collect your thoughts and deal with this internal conflict within yourself.

You did feel better and lighter, though, after confessing your sins to Father. You have been pardoned, and that’s what matters most. You don’t intend to revert to how you acted on Devil’s Night.

Speaking of Devil’s Night, despite the fact that it is over, Halloween isn’t. Hence, there are Halloween ornaments embellished on every part of the campus building. You got to give credit to the knight members, who were in charge of the decorations. Their budget seemed to be higher than last year’s, as evident from the overall decorations, and there are even knight members in spooky costumes strolling out and about while scaring off the students, eliciting screams from them.

Nevertheless, amidst the sombre atmosphere, the merriment, jovial laughter, and chatter from the students are palpable. It is abundantly clear that they genuinely enjoy Halloween, and that bothers you greatly because they don’t seem the slightest mournful over the deaths of twenty-two students ─ three students whom you recognise from your department.

You didn’t exactly know them in the way you know your friends, but still, you are sorrowful over their deaths. How cruel was it to be hunted and killed by those delinquents when they didn’t commit any wrongdoing? What did they do to deserve to die? Or was it all just pure entertainment for those notorious delinquents?

A shrill scream as well as laughter erupting from the other side, across from where you are seated, prompts you to look at the commotion briefly before returning to minding your own business with an eye roll. Just another bunch of students feigning feeling terrified of the knight members scaring them.

Your face twists into a grimace. There is definitely something fundamentally wrong with everyone here, you think. 

Presently, you are in the students’ lounging area that is situated between the two different buildings that belong to the students under the social science and science technological engineering departments. Usually, you would resort to the campus library to do your assignments or some reading, but today you felt compelled to do your work here for some reason, even though you dislike the boisterous commotion that often happens in the lounging area.

The commotion in the background eventually fades out. You continue to type away on your keyboard while your gaze remains on your laptop screen, getting immersed in finishing the final assignment that you have neglected since last week. The submission deadline is by the end of today, but the assignment is a piece of cake for you.

The tension in your shoulders relaxes as soon as you save the document to your file before opening a webpage on your Google Chrome with the intention of submitting your assignment to the school’s portal under your department.

As soon as you click submit, you jolt in your seat, and a shriek of terror emits from you when two students in ghostface masks emerge at your side, frightening you with sonorous ‘boos!’ while holding serrated knives in their gloved hands.

Another thing about this university that you deem absurd is the fact that they allow authentic weapons to be in students’ possessions for this period of Halloween, for as long as there are no casualties.

Your shriek draws the attention of students in your vicinity, causing your cheeks to flush in embarrassment. The unknown ghostfaces erupt into jeering laughter, clearly finding pure delight in frightening you greatly.

You glare at them in disbelief while you attempt to soothe your heart that is beating erratically against your chest, and for once, you want to lash out at them for their inane prank, but as they proceed to remove their ghostface masks, you smack your lips together shut, knowing better than to rebuke the knight members.

You recognise them. Matthew and Gyuvin from the social science department. Even though they’re your juniors by a year, they don’t really respect their seniors, let alone you. Besides, you’re deemed an easy target for most, and now that you’re alone without any of your friends by your side, it makes things easier for anyone to approach you with ill-intention.

“Did you see the horror on her face?” Matthew cackles, slapping Gyuvin’s shoulder. “That was comical!”

Gyuvin chuckles as he wipes an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. “We should definitely scare her often.”

“That wasn’t funny.” You utter those words before you can even stop yourself. Your remark seems to capture their attention, and for some reason, you gain a newfound confidence in resolution. “In fact, scaring others for your own enjoyment is simply inconsiderate and lazy.”

“Lazy?” Gyuvin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He gives his fellow member a look. “Can you believe her?”

“Yes. Lazy.” You reiterate, glaring at them, but your voice remains soft all the while. “Also, you could’ve injured a student with how careless you were holding your knives─”

“What do you even know about pranks?” Matthew takes a threatening step towards you, resulting in you recoiling in prudence upon noticing the menace he exudes, as evident on his mien. “You know nothing about pranks. All you know is being a goody-two shoes and kissing professors’ asses.”

You hold back an offended gasp, but the distaste you have for them is evident in your eyes, which doesn’t go unnoticed by them. “And you wonder why everyone hates you. You might have a pretty face, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you are a fucking loser who doesn’t know how to have fun.” You refuse to allow Gyuvin’s demeaning words to get to you.

“Plus, she’s probably still a virgin.” Matthew cackles, high-fiving Gyuvin, while you wallow in humiliation. “That explains why she’s insufferable. No one wants to fuck a virgin, let alone a Catholic girl like her.”

Their remarks appear to have attracted the attention of the students in your vicinity, and just as you expected, chuckles and degradation emanate from them directed at you.

Despite their cruelty demoralising your high spirit while your cheeks flush in humiliation, you feel a newfound resentment towards them, with your hand forming into a fist at your side. There is no denying that you are indeed a virgin, but you feel proud of being one.

Besides, your mother used to emphasise how crucial it is for you to safeguard and embrace your chastity. Heeding your mother’s words, you cherish and protect your virginity for the one who is destined to be your soulmate. Hence, you were given a silver ring that latches around your forefinger on your seventeenth birthday, and the ring symbolises purity.

Of course, you took pride in it, subtly flaunting your purity ring everywhere you go, but now that their demeaning words have finally gotten to you, you can’t help wondering if being a virgin plays a major part in why no guys have approached you with the intention of getting you in their bed and additionally makes you unlikeable.

You lower your head, completely disheartened, and you want nothing more than to disappear from their sight while their jeering laughter continues to taunt you.

“Ah!”

A loud thud causes you to jolt in surprise with your head now raised, and the sight of Matthew’s face being side-planted on the surface of the table shocks you before your eyes trail to the person who has him pinned on the table with one hand on his back and the other on the table at the side of his head, locked by his strong grips.

The person you definitely don't expect to see. Jake Sim. 

You know that Jake would be strolling out and about around here since he is a computer science major, and you always come across his path. Most of the time, he would give you a brief smile before resuming to talk with his friends or even flirt with girls in the hallway.

By now, the students in your vicinity have quietened by his arrival . Jake’s presence alone is domineering enough to silence them.

“So this was what the two of you have been doing instead of resuming your respective duties.” Jake states calmly, but you are not oblivious to the way his jaw clenches while his deadly grips on Matthew elicit a yelp from the latter. “You were meant to bring fright upon your peers and not humiliate them, but here you are, lazing around.”

“We were! Really!” Gyuvin asserts, and you notice how apparent the nervousness is in his voice.

“H-He’s right!” Matthew stammers out as he makes an attempt to struggle in Jake’s grasps.

“First, you insulted and humiliated a lady. Now, you have the audacity to lie to my face?” Jake’s tongue hits the roof of his mouth, and the corner of his lips curves into a smirk that sends you shivers down your spine upon seeing how pissed-off he is, but you can’t deny that he looks oddly attractive. 

“As your house leader, I expected better from both of you.” Jake continues to speak calmly, but all the while, he has yet to release Matthew. You flinch lightly when Jake’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks at his knight's members. “Apologise to her.”

“S-Sorry.” Matthew manages to utter, but even you can discern the insincerity in his tone.

With ease, Jake raises him just slightly before slamming him down on the surface of the table once more, eliciting a painful yelp from the latter. “Sorry who?” Jake nearly growls out his words, sending you another shiver.

In all honesty, you could care less about getting an apology from these jerks, but seeing Jake in this light genuinely shocks you. More importantly, why is he defending you in your honour?

“I’m sorry, Y/N! I won’t insult you again!” Matthew rambles out, the fear for his house leader is more than apparent, which brings a pleased smirk from the latter.

“Yes, we’re so sorry!” Gyuvin even bows to you, clutching his ghostface mask.

“The next time I catch you insulting and humiliating any lady, I won’t let it pass so easily.” Jake says sternly before finally releasing Matthew, who wastes no time retrieving his ghostface mask and his knife from the table, fleeing your table with Gyuvin.

“What are you guys looking at?” Jake’s sharp tone causes the students in your vicinity to look away from your table as they resort to minding their own business. 

When Jake’s gaze finally lands on your face, you catch the way his eyes soften and the scowl on his lips flatten. “I’m sorry about them. Are you okay?”

You blink your eyes, clearly taken aback by his duality. You ignore how your heart flutters just slightly at his soft voice as well as his gentle demeanour.

“I’m fine, Jake.” You tell him, your voice wavering subtly as you muster a small smile at him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I had to.” Jake says, looking offended as though he were the one who had been humiliated instead of you. “I taught them better than to insult and humiliate a lady. Such conduct is unacceptable to the House of North.”

You can’t help but acquiesce and give him a smile that shoots a cupid arrow to his tainted heart, especially your dimples that he wants to poke his finger in. “Thank you.”

A smile is adorned on his face, and you hold back an endearing chuckle at how sheepish he looks, almost resembling a golden retriever puppy. “Anytime, Y/N.”

As the two of you continue to gaze at each other with sheepish smiles, familiar voices belonging to your best friends echo in the walls of your mind, reminding you of their warning to steer clear of the knights, specifically their leaders. But you ignore those warnings inside your head.

Sure, you have no intention to attract the attention of the other leaders, but this is Jake ─ the guy whose kindness has long since been embedded in your mind. You find it hard to dislike him, even though you are aware of his reputation on campus as a womaniser.

You recall when you got lost in the campus building during your second week of college in your first year three years ago, trying to find your way to the auditorium. That was when Jake found you wandering around like a lost puppy, and he was kind enough to guide you to the place you needed to go without hesitation and even engage in a short, pleasant conversation with you.

Yeah, the Jake you danced intimately with on Devil’s Night should have given you a reason to stay away from him, but you don’t have the heart to do that, especially when he had just defended you in your honour. Plus, to you at least, Jake is undoubtedly amiable, making him an approachable figure unlike the rest of his fraternity members.

Hence, you have decided to lower your guards around him, but then comes the awkwardness after the realisation that you have been gazing at him with a stupid smile on your face.

You break eye contact with him and scratch the back of your head awkwardly. “So, I guess I better get going─”

“Listen, I’ve been wanting to apologise to you.” Jake cuts you off, inviting himself to settle down across from you.

Confused, you stare at him with a single eyebrow arched. “Why are you apologising?”

Jake rubs his nape sheepishly. “For touching and kissing you without consent when we were dancing last Friday night.”

Just like that, a specific memory runs through your mind, and you recall the sensation of his touch that left you wanting more of him.

“It’s okay. I understand that we were tipsy and in the heat of the moment.” You tell him reassuringly, giving him a small smile. “I should be apologising as well for my improper behaviour.” 

Jake holds back a chuckle. Oh, how wrong you were. He was not the slightest tipsy, but he can’t let you know that.

“How was your first ever Devil’s Night?” He asks, striking up a conversation with you and hoping that it will continue on.

Truthfully, your voice sounds pleasant to hear. You’re soft-spoken, complementing your disposition, and whenever you converse with anyone who reciprocates your kindness and the ones who obviously like you, you try your best to maintain appropriate eye contact while listening attentively to them and giving your opinions or remarks if needed. That makes them want to continue speaking to you, and that’s what Jake feels about you. He can listen to you talking for hours, and he wouldn’t get sick of it.

On the other hand, you feel hesitant about whether or not you should answer his question with full honesty because, firstly, he’s one of the leaders, and he was obviously in charge of Devil’s Night. Secondly, you don’t want to offend him by letting him know that it was the worst night you ever had, and you never want to relive that night ever again.

But being a people-pleaser, you resort to giving him white lies as your lips curve into a small smile. “I had the time of my life. You guys were amazing and really outdid yourselves. I can definitely understand the hype behind Devil’s Night from most of the students here.”

You hope that Jake won’t detect your lies, but all the while, your stomach twists with something unpleasant as you speak those words. You even held yourself back from telling him that his fraternity and the rest of the students were downright mental for enjoying Devil’s Night.

Thankfully, Jake seems to believe your white lies and gives you a charming grin that sends another flutter to your beating heart. “I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed it.”

Little did you know that Jake knew you meant the opposite of what you said. After all, he had seen the genuine horror on your face and your vulnerability firsthand, considering he and his comrades were hunting you down.

As his eyes rake over your delicate features, he grins cunningly in the back of his mind. Oh, how he desires to see your pretty eyes glistening and tears streaming down your smooth cheeks as he inflicts horror upon you, resulting in you running away from him while he chases after you.

"So, what’s your favourite horror movie?” The interest gleaming in his brown eyes is one of the reasons why you want to continue the conversation with him, aside from the fact that he is practically staring at you like a puppy wanting a treat.

“I’m not a fan of horror movies, but I guess the Scream movie?” You answer unsurely, shrugging your shoulders. “My friends forced me to watch with them since they’re big fans.”

This time, Jake’s interest grows tenfold. He leans his body slightly forward while his lips are curved into a grin. “But did you like them?”

“Kind of?” You answer, and you feel warmth weaving across your cheeks at the intensity of his gaze on your face. Feeling conscious, your fingers make their ascent to the silver cross pendant resting delicately on your chest to fiddle with it. “I mean, the movie was definitely interesting, and I liked the plot, but surprisingly, I wasn’t scared. If anything, I felt grossed out by the amount of bloodshed.”

The way you scrunch your nose is so endearing to him that he itches to lean forward to peck the tip of your nose, but of course, he can only afford to fantasise as always.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush delicately in pink as awareness slaps you at how much of a yapper you suddenly become. “I must be rambling by now. You probably wouldn’t want to hear me talk so much.”

“Actually, I do.” A tinge of softness is in his eyes, as is the soft smile unfurling on his plump pink lips. “Has anyone ever told you how pleasant you sound?”

“No.” You answer, your face contorting into confusion, to which he finds you adorable, especially when you tilt your head slightly to one side. 

“Then let me be the first one to tell you. You sound really pleasant to hear.” His smile shoots cupid arrows into your heart. “I like listening to you talk, and if you could talk all day, I would be there by your side to listen to you.”

“Now you’re just flattering me.” You murmur, your eyes zeroing on his pretty lips, and you swear they look and feel soft. The very same lips touched your skin last Friday night.

“No, I’m not. I meant what I said.” His countenance shifts into something serious, almost knocking the breath out of you upon the dark glint in his eye. “If anyone says otherwise, then their hearing must be impaired.”

“Jake!” A familiar voice calls for Jake, which you recognise. You look at the side, spotting Sunghoon and Riki from across the building as they wave at Jake, beckoning him to come over.

You turn your head to face him. “Your friends are calling for you─”

Your breath hitches in your throat when he grabs your hand and holds it tenderly. Your heart flutters as you watch him raise your hand to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckles. The sensation of his soft, plump lips still lingers on your skin, even when he withdraws.

His thumb caresses the back of your hand, sending you tingles, while his brown eyes captivate you in a way that is impossible for you to look away from. “Before I go, can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask in a murmur, getting lost in the depths of his eyes, which are swimming with sentiments you can’t decipher.

“If anyone messes with you, even the slightest, let me know, alright?”

A look of confusion furrows your brows. “But─”

“Promise me, love.” He cuts you off sternly, but the tinge of softness remains in his tone that compels you to nod your head, earning a small smile from him. “Good. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?” His low husk at the end sends a foreign sensation through you.

“Okay, Jaeyun.” You say softly without realising that you don’t mean to accidentally call him by his Korean name.

His eyebrow arches attractively at his Korean name, which feels heavenly from your mouth, but he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he shoots you a smirk, sending one last flutter to your heart.

He rises from his seat and proceeds to leave the table, but not before winking at you. “Goodbye for now, sweet angel.” His smirk remains on his canvas before he turns around and saunters towards his friends.

Sweet angel.

Those two words instantly remind you of the masked men on Devil’s Night, and you begin to wonder if Jake was one of your predators on that night.

“No, he couldn’t be.” You mutter to yourself as you slowly close your laptop.

There is no way Jake could be any of those four masked men that preyed on you. The same charming Jake, whose duality never fails to impress you, simply couldn’t be any of them. Sure, he’s one of their leaders, but there is absolutely no way he was capable of being one of Kim Namgil’s murderers.

As you pack your belongings into your bag, you fail to notice the wicked glint in his heavenly brown-hued eyes earlier.

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Your last class ended at six, but instead of heading straight back to your dorm, you went to the cafe down the street nearby the campus to do some reading and studying for your finals while indulging your cravings for the delectable pastries.

You didn’t want to head back to your dorm since you weren’t ready to face your best friends, and you really didn’t want to deal with them, especially after reading all of their texts in which they spammed you relentlessly and even tried calling you. You have a feeling that you’ll be barraged with questions demanding explanations for your abrupt detachment.

A part of you feels guilty for it, knowing that your best friends have always been there for you, even when the rest of their peers often question why they befriended someone who has no status, rank, or abundance of wealth like them.

A sigh leaves your lips as you shake your head lightly before pushing open the door, making your exit out of the cafe establishment. You glance down at your phone screen and notice that the time has struck eight p.m. You should be heading back now, but instead, you decide to take a nightly stroll to clear the remnants of the fog in your head.

The nightly breeze is in your hair with each step you take, ambling on the pavement while your surroundings are in a blur as you go into unfocused mode. Just then, your mind drifts off to Jake Sim.

The moment his face and his charming grin appear in your head, a soft smile unfurls on your pink lips. There is no denying that you do find him attractive and sometimes cute, but truth be told, his kindness was what made you have a crush on him three years ago.

Yes, you had a crush on him, but it only lasted for a while when you found out he was a womaniser. You recall the jealousy brimming in your veins whenever you saw him with different girls clinging to his arm every week. You knew that he wouldn’t bat an eye at you, especially after all the unpleasant words that were spoken about you and circulated on campus.

Most of the students dislike you not because you’re a good girl but because of your status rank and the fact that you do not hail from an affluent background. 

Approximately 96% of the students in Crestview Meadow’s hail from affluent families and are literally Chaebols who wield authority and power the same way as their parents’ do.

Crestview Meadows students are extremely privileged. Not only does the university provide a top-tier higher learning institution compared to any other universities across Sokor, but they also truly accommodate the students’ wants and needs.

For instance, there are massive, tall, and wide apartment complexes that are designed exclusively for students whose homes are far from the campus, also known as the dormitory. It is within a five-minute walk from the enormous, upscale campus. Undoubtedly, the cost of paying for the rent is higher and greater than that of a condominium, especially when there are amenities for the students.

Obviously, money is never an issue for most of the students enrolling at this university, considering the unfathomable wealth they wield. Some do take their wealth and high statuses for granted, but you, on the other hand, feel extremely grateful for not getting yourself into a heavy debt as you have earned numerous scholarships and the university recognises your effort in terms of academics. 

Hence, it is one of the reasons why you are driven and motivated to work hard and maintain your perfect GPA of 4.0.

The commotion of manly laughter shatters your moment of solitude, prompting you to look to the side just for your eyes to widen at the sight of a bunch of familiar faces. Your eyes briefly glance at the establishment before you finally notice that they have emerged from a bar.

You stand frozen, as though seeing them paralyses your whole being. Your eyes instantly meet Sunghoon’s, whose smile transitions to a sneer while a familiar sentiment glints in his eyes. Hatred.

“Y/N, hey!” Sunoo’s voice pulls you away from staring into Sunghoon’s dark eyes any longer. You are taken aback by the blond-haired male’s friendliness as he approaches you with a gleeful grin. You refuse to believe that this is the same guy who was part of Devil’s Night.

“What brings you here?” Sunoo asks, speaking to you in a way that makes you feel as though he is an old friend of yours. “Wait. Don’t tell me that you’re here to have a drink.” Sunoo feigned a shocked gasp. “What happened to the good girl Y/N we know and love?”

You can only afford to chuckle awkwardly, unsure of how to act, and all the while, their gazes on you render you conscious of the way you look.

A barrage of questions are on your mind, wondering if you look okay or ridiculous.

Your fashion sense has always been praised by your girls, and it also elevates your confidence. Your wardrobe mostly consists of either beige, white, black, or pink clothing. Some days you wear skirts that reach above your knees, while other days you wear pants. 

Today, you decided to wear a flared beige skirt and a white tee that is tucked in with a short beige jacket complementing your overall fit, as well as white thigh-high socks that conceal your skin. Your friends have made comments about your thigh-high socks being unnecessary since they want you to flaunt your smooth skin, but of course you refused.

Now, you can’t help but wonder what they think of you as they stare at you. Do they also think that you’re a ridiculous Catholic girl the way the others do?

“You’re scaring her, Sunoo.” Jungwon chides, shoving his shoulder against Sunoo’s. 

When your eyes meet Jungwon’s feline-like eyes, you are reminded of the night when he captured Wonyoung and his warning directed at you. You have an inkling that the hickeys on Wonyoung’s neck were his marks.

“Come on, we’re wasting time here.” Sunghoon grumbles as he walks past you, and you swear you can feel the coldness emanating from his body.

Riki disregards your existence as he heads for his bike, which is parked by the curb alongside the others’. Jungwon sends you a wink while Sunoo casts you another gleeful smile before they proceed on towards their bikes.

You manage to catch Heeseung’s fleeting gaze on your face, and when you turn your head fully to look at him, he is swift to avoid your gaze and advances towards his bike with a cool demeanour.

“Hey, angel.” Jay takes you by surprise by standing close to you, almost knocking the breath out of you with the combo of his strong cologne and cigarette smell emanating from him. As you glance up to meet his dark, lustrous gaze, he gives you his signature smirk that makes anyone fall for him.

“Missed me?” Jay asks you in a seductive lull as he raises his hand to brush the fallen strands from your face, but you back away from him immediately. “Come on, baby. You weren’t like this last Friday night when you danced with me.” He remarks with mockery that you narrow your eyes at.

Just as you are about to speak, Heeseung’s voice interrupts you, and for once, you are thankful to him. “Let’s go, Jay.”

“Always the one to ruin my fun, Heeseung.” Jay heaves a sigh and makes his way to his bike, but not before casting you another smirk that has a clear intent of suggestiveness. 

You watch as Riki, Sunoo, and Jungwon speed off ahead, followed by Sunghoon and Jay. Heeseung seems to be taking his time, and when his eyes meet yours, an indecipherable sentiment dances in his eyes before he pulls down the dark visor and proceeds to speed off with his engine blaring.

You sense his presence from behind you, and his figure is nearly looming over yours. His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe before he greets you in a soft tone with that husky voice of his. “So we meet again, lovely.”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing how close he is to you, and you swear you can feel his body heat. As you turn around to face him, the smell of smoke fills your nostrils.

“I had no idea you smoked.” You point out politely, your lips pressing thinly. You actually hate the unpleasant smell of smoke.

The smile on Jake’s lips falters upon noticing the expression on your face. “Oh, no, I don’t smoke.” He tells you with the utmost sincerity. “It was theirs, but I swear I don’t smoke.” Even he has no idea why he is affirming with such earnestness.

You nod your head in understanding. Even if he does smoke, it isn’t in any of your business anyway.

“Where were you from?” Jake asks, tilting his head slightly to one side while curiosity sparkles in his eyes.

“I was from the cafe down the street and decided to take a nightly stroll.” You tell him. “What about you? Isn’t it unwise to drink on a school night?”

Jake’s smile curls into a grin as he takes a step forward. “Are you worried for me?”

Your eyebrows pull together. “Yeah, I mean, don’t you have classes tomorrow? Plus, you’re driving.”

“You’re so fucking adorable.” He whispers huskily while your eyes widen in shock at the sudden shift in his demeanour. His eyes meet yours with an indecipherable intensity. “Don’t worry about me, lovely. I drank a little, but I have a high alcohol tolerance.”

“If you say so.” You say before taking a step back. “Just drive safely, okay?”

“Ride with me.” He says so firmly that there is no room for objections.

Your eyes divert to his sleek black bike, and you begin to feel wary. “I don’t know….I’ve never rode a bike before, so I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t be.” Jake grabs your hand without any hesitation and gives it a tender squeeze while his soft, brown eyes are pulling you into him. “As long as you hold on tight to me, you’ll be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Jake─”

“I need you to trust me, love.” Jake cuts you off firmly, but his grasp on you remains tender. “Trust me, yeah?” He whispers, and you can’t help but to nod your head.

The next thing you know, he is assisting you with his helmet while you stand in front of him, your eyes staring at his pink plump lips in awe upon the close-up.

“Does it feel too tight?” He asks you, causing you to look into his eyes.

You shake your head, but frown at the realisation. “What about you? It’s dangerous for you to be riding without a helmet.”

“Lovely, you should really stop worrying about me.” He chuckles breathily before guiding you to his bike, which you have trouble mounting due to how high it is.

You become startled when he places both hands on your waist to lift you with ease as you mount his bike. You struggle a little to balance yourself, and when he mounts his bike in front of you with ease, you latch your arms around his waist without any hesitation.

You feel his body visibly tensing before he relaxes and proceeds to switch on the ignition. You ignore the way your breasts are pressed against his back, and you hope he doesn’t mind it. 

“Hold on tight, lovely.” Jake reminds you once more over his shoulder before he takes you by surprise at the abrupt blare of his engine as he drives off.

You close your eyes while tightening your arms around him, your heart beating fast at the speed as the two of you ride against the vindictive wind. He is going at such an insane speed that you swear it is as though he is in a racing competition.

Finally, you dare yourself to flutter your eyes open, and when you do, you no longer feel the trepidation coursing through your veins. Your eyes sparkle with awe as you manage to catch glimpses of the gorgeous city lights. Although you no longer fear riding a bike, your arms remain tight around his waist.

But soon you realise that he is not heading in the direction of your dormitory. “Where are you taking me?” You raise your voice so he can hear you better over the wind.

“Somewhere.” His answer doesn’t satisfy you, yet you choose not to ask any more questions. But the smirk in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Call me Jaeyun from now instead.”

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The familiar sight of the golden gate opening automatically greets your sight before he accelerates forward, while you are rendered gobsmacked by the fact that Jake has brought you to the very place where Devil’s Night commenced.

When your eyes sweep over the magnificent palace, you shudder lightly as the events that transpired on that dreadful night play in your mind like a film. Soon, you find yourself entering a massive garage that is equivalent to the biggest living room in the palace, with different vehicle models arrayed impeccably, leaving you in awe.

“Careful.” Jake murmurs to you as he holds you against him at the moment you dismount, resulting in you nearly stumbling forward due to the imbalance and how your ankle throbs familiarly with subtle pain, but thankfully, it is healing rapidly.

“Sorry.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as he assists you by removing the helmet from your head and adjusting your tousled hair with a touch of gentleness.

“Thank you.” Your sincerity sends a foreign sensation through him while his eyes meet yours. Soon, a frown touches your lips. “But why exactly did you bring me here?”

“To have fun, of course.” He casts you a grin before beckoning you to follow him, and you do, allowing him to guide you to the door that leads into the palace while you take a brief glance at the garage once more.

“Fun?” You repeat it in incredulity.

His melodious chuckles ring through your head. “Fine. I brought you here because I wanted to hang out with you.” He tells you, and you detect sincerity in his tone. “Plus, I do enjoy your company.”

“If you wanted to hang out with me, you could’ve asked me tomorrow instead.”

“Well, the opportunity was there earlier, so I couldn’t miss it.” He gives you a side glance. “Besides, you looked like you needed something to ease your mind.”

Surprise flickers in your gaze. “I do, actually.”

“Then I’m your man for the night.” His breathy chuckles erupt the butterflies in your tummy. “So, what do you want to do?”

You open your mouth to speak, but an uproar comes from the second floor, prompting you to look up with bewildered eyes. “The others are here?” You ask him, and that is when you finally realise the familiar bikes in the garage earlier that belong to those delinquents.

“Yeah, but don’t mind them.” He says, rolling his eyes.

“Then you should join them instead. You don’t need me to keep you company.”

“But I'd rather be with you, lovely.” He murmurs, catching you off guard when he tugs at your wrist, pulling you closer to him with his hand making its ascent to cradle the cusp of your jaw.

Your breath catches in the back of your throat as his eyes zero in on yours, while each stroke from his thumb on your smooth cheek intensifies the butterflies in your tummy.

This time, you dismiss another commotion coming from above as you are busy getting mesmerised by his dark gaze that holds tumultuous sentiments, yet it seems to be luring you in, enticing you to explore the darkness within him.

“What do you want to do?” He asks softly, still not releasing you.

You ignore a small voice that is imploring you to push him away. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me. You wouldn’t want to know, lovely.” His lips curve into a smirk before he drops his hand from your cheek, but his fingers remain latched around your wrist as he pulls you with him. “I’m sure you haven’t had the chance to explore the palace, but first, I want to bring you to our private cinema.”

As Jake drags you with him, heading towards the elevator, your eyes widen as you feel astounded at the fact that this palace has its own cinema, and subsequently, you begin to wonder what else is there in this very palace. You definitely won’t be surprised if there are hidden passages somewhere here.

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One thing is certain: you regret agreeing to watch Scream with him.

Your eyes are trained on the large screen, and your face contorts into a grimace when the victim’s blood is oozing from the terrible wound.

A wince leaves your lips while you find yourself instinctively burying your head into his shoulder with your fingers clutching at the hems of his top. You attempt to drown out the noise of the victim’s cries and pleas as well as the eerie sound effect that reverberates throughout the private cinema that is equivalent to the width of that of a public cinema. 

Jake turns his head to glance down at you. A chuckle emits from him as he finds you adorably endearing with how often you have attempted to use him as your shield whenever the gory parts of the movie play on the screen.

“I recall a certain someone telling me in confidence that she wasn’t afraid of watching the movie.” Jake drawls his words out, his lips remaining a smirk as you slowly raise your head to meet his eyes that hold such mischief.

In return, you can only afford to chuckle nervously. You can’t let him know that the reason you’re afraid is because your mind would always drift to the terrible events on Devil’s Night whenever the gory part of the movie came up. Moreover, your skin is crawling with disquietude the longer you’re in this very palace.

Yes, the palace looks magnificent, but you can discern the foreboding atmosphere that sends you involuntary chills every now and then. A part of you is telling you that the moment Jake brought you inside, you ought to be wary and apprehensive of your safety.

“Can we watch something else?” You murmur to him, still clinging to his arm, though not as awkwardly as you did earlier. You remain facing him, but your eyes are crestfallen with your head lowered, allowing the strands of your hair at the side to fall.

“Why? I’m quite enjoying this.” Jake continues to tease you while enjoying the fact that you are clinging to his arm dependently, with your breasts occasionally brushing against his arm.

You surprise yourself when a whine elicits from you and your pink lips form into a small pout as you meet his eyes that seem to be darkening. “Please, Jaeyun?”

His chest rumbles in pleasure at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. “Fine.” He eventually concedes before reaching out for the controller at the side to put the movie on pause. “It turns out you are afraid of horror and thrillers after all.”

You narrow your eyes at his teasing grin, but you cave in as a sigh leaves your lips. “Yes. Now you can have another laugh at it.”

“Nah, I was just messing with you, lovely.” Jake leans forward to ruffle your hair while you are taken aback by the nonexistent space between the two of you. “Everyone has their own fears.”

“So what are your fears?” You inquire to him, feeling rather keen to know him better.

“I don’t have any.” Jake lies through his cheeky grin. “Tell me yours.”

A niggling of prudence tickles the back of your mind as if to warn you about telling him any parts of your vulnerability that he might potentially use against you. 

But as you get lost in the depths of his devastatingly beautiful brown eyes, you feel a certain compulsion to reveal everything about you, including your worries, to him.

“Genres of thriller and gore, insects,” You begin to list down, murmuring as you do so with your head lowered and your cheeks tinted pink at the fact that he has his full attention on you. “losing my loved ones, being a disappointment and failure to anyone I hold dear close to my heart.”

“You? A failure?” Jake grips your chin gently but firmly enough to force your eyes to meet his. “Lovely, you are the epitome of perfection.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, and even if you want to look away from him, you can’t. “I’m not perfect, Jake.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jake leans his face close to yours, causing your breath to hitch, but he stops just close enough until the tips of your noses graze ghostly against each other’s. Your heart flutters at the warmth of his touch from his palm on the side of your thigh, rubbing it tantalisingly slowly. “and wrong name, baby.”

In an instant, he has you hoisted and settles you on top of his lap with your legs straddling his muscular denim-clad thighs while your skirt is hiked up, allowing a teasing peek of your skin. Instinctively, your hands find their way to his shoulders, feeling how toned and broadened they are beneath your touch, which pays off as a result of his consistency in working out.

The cold air in the private cinema shifts drastically. The tension is palpable, and you fear it might snap at any moment in time, especially the way he is gazing at you dangerously with lidded eyes.

You are rendered speechless by the escalation, unable to form any coherent sentences. The heat of his touch on your thighs sends you involuntary shivers down your spine while his dark eyes are penetrating into yours, which are swimming with sentiments you recognise. Danger, desire, and lust.

“You’re so fucking adorable, do you know that?” The low husk in his voice stirs something within you. Your lips go slightly parted at the sensation of his palm rubbing your thigh once more. “Can you do me a favour, lovely?” Although he is asking you, you know that it is a demand.

Your mind is screaming at you to push him away and flee from him, but it is as though his touch and gaze cast a spell on you that renders you compliant.

With the inexplicable haze clouding your better judgement, you nod your head, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I want to see you in fishnet tights. You’ll look good in them.” His eyes rake all over your body until they fall to your plush thighs. He desires to dig his nails into the suppleness of your flesh, but your thigh-high socks are a hindrance.

His demand leaves you flabbergasted, and you continue to remain silent, to which Jake doesn’t seem satisfied.

He raises his hand to cup your cheek, bringing your full attention to his dark gaze. “Can you do that for me?” He asks firmly, applying pressure to the hesitancy you bear in your mind.

“Yes.” You utter your answer while your mind vehemently disagrees with you. A newfound desire kindles in you, and that is to please Jake.

“Good.”

You feel his hand creeping from your thigh to your buttcheek, eliciting an inaudible gasp from you, before he pulls your body closer to his until you feel something hard touching your core. Your heart lurches in your chest while the tension between the two of you feels suffocating. 

“Jaeyun,” You whisper his name as you feel paralysed by the sensation of his hardened dick beneath you, and you fear that one movement from you will unleash the inner devil that lurks beneath his charming facade. 

His strong cologne infiltrates your senses, enticing you to bury your head into his chest and bask in his scent, but with his face leaning closer to yours, you hold yourself back from doing so.

His nose touches yours while his hot breath fans above your lips. By now, his eyes are darkened and shrouded with lustful desire for you, wanting nothing more than to devour you, fucking you into oblivion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, contradictory to how he is holding you possessively with his hand holding and palming your buttcheek while the other is wrapped around your waist.

No, you should definitely say no. Your first kiss is reserved solely for the one who will be marrying you.

“Yes.” Your heart pounds harder in anticipation of your answer.

With your consent, he closes the gap between your lips while you flutter your eyes closed, awaiting the kiss.

Just as you envisioned, his warm lips feel soft and plump as he kisses you sweetly, which has your toes almost curling. He kisses like you are made out of glass, and he takes his time as though he is memorising the shape of your lips in the back of his mind.

But you remain unmoving, uncertain of how to kiss him, and embarrassment floods across your cheeks. When he pulls away, your chest tingles with disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” You find yourself apologising to him, your eyes crestfallen. Disheartened, you slouch your shoulders and avoid his gaze. “I don’t know how to kiss.” You mutter weakly while your fingers curl into fists as they rest on his chest.

“Lovely, look at me.” His soft command compels you to heed, and when you raise your head, your heart nearly lurches in your chest when he pulls you by the nape and slams his lips on yours, and this time, there is a sense of urgency and desperation as he kisses you.

Compared to the previous kiss, this kiss is messy, sloppy even, as you are unable to coordinate with how he is kissing you, but what genuinely confuses you is the fact that he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by how bad you are at kissing. It is as though what matters to him most is the taste of your lips.

Your stomach churns with guilt, yet your core is pooling with newfound desire. Your lips part as you gasp at the sensation of his hardness grinding against yours, and you can almost feel his tip hitting your clothed clit that is aching with forbidden need. You can almost feel how big he is.

Jake grasps the opportunity to force his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of your hot cavern while his nails dig into the flesh of your ass. You try your best to keep up with him, your tongue tangling with his wet muscle in a mess, yet it is a mess that elicits a moan from the back of your throat.

You move your hips tentatively, testing waters, but soon you are grinding your hips against his while you attempt to feel the delirious friction of your clit rubbing against his pointed tip. A low groan emits from him at how painful his cock is, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside of you. But he knows that he must wait patiently.

You gasp in pain when he has your bottom lip between his teeth, and you whimper as he tugs and pulls it teasingly, prompting you to flutter your eyes open and meet his dark, hypnotising ones. The corner of his lip tips up in a smirk before he devours you once more, and this time, he is assisting you with the other hand gripping your waist.

“You’re doing so fucking for me, lovely.” He rasps against your wet, parted lips with soft moans, leaving them. “So, so perfect just for me.” He purrs seductively before kissing you, while his praises send your heart fluttering.

“Jake.” You whimper against his lips in need, and goosebumps arise on your skin when he growls into the kiss. It all happens too fast, because the next thing you know, he has you pinned on the couch while your legs remain wrapped around his waist.

Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your neck, eliciting a pleasurable sigh from you, but a pained whimper follows when he bites down your skin in a threatening manner.

“Wrong name, baby.” He murmurs against your skin, his hand squeezing the plush of your thigh almost painfully. “What is my name?”

“Jae─” Your eyes roll to the back of your head while a breathless moan leaves your lips at the sensation of his hardened dick grinding against your pussy. “Jaeyun!”

“That’s fucking right.” He pulls away from you, hovering on top of you with his chain necklace dangling above you. You catch a glimpse of his inked tattoo on his collarbone area. “Do you want more?” He grinds again, deliberately.

“N-No.” You deny, shaking your head, but the moan that rips out from your lips betrays you, as does the way you buck up your hips in an attempt to feel for the delirious friction between your clit and his pointed tip.

Jake tuts as he halts his movement, his hand moving to brush the messy strands covering your cheeks. “It’s a sin to lie, my pretty girl.”

“Jaeyun, please!” You plead, throwing away your dignity.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He chuckles breathily, finding pure delight in the way your eyes are glistening with need. He leans down to place a chaste kiss on your moist lips and remains there before murmuring, “But if you really want more, meet me by the entrance of the palace tomorrow night, and don’t forget to wear your fishnet thighs, yeah?”

No, for God’s sake, you should be saying no.

“Okay.” You breathe out your answer, earning you a grin from him.

You ignore the disappointment in you when he unwraps your legs from his waist and rises from the couch to adjust his denim jacket while you remain motionless, your mind in a muddle. By now, your lips are swollen, and your chest is heaving up and down from the aftermath.

Jake stares down at you with a smirk at the remnants of lust gleaming in those mesmerising eyes of yours before he extends his hand to you, which you gladly accept. As you abruptly stand, your knees nearly buckle underneath you, prompting you to latch your hand onto his bicep for support before you retract your hand from him, as though he is poisonous.

“I’d like to go back to my dorm, please.” You tell him meekly, avoiding his gaze.

You don’t say anything as you allow him to grab your hand and guide you out of the private cinema that is now tainted with traces of your sinful desire for the very delinquent you have been warned to stay away from.

All the while, as he sends you back to your dorm, your clit remains tingling and aching for some relief.

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By the time you’ve reached your dorm, the time has nearly struck midnight. You had expected your roommates to be sound asleep, but when you attempt to be tactful by opening the door as quietly as you can and sneaking to your room with light footsteps in the dark, you are being greatly startled as the lights in the living room abruptly switch on, revealing two of your best friends settled in the living room.

The expressions painted on their canvas are certainly not anywhere near satisfactory, while they seem to mirror each other in the way they remain seated on the couch with their stern gazes on your figure.

“It’s nearly midnight, Y/N Kang.” Wonyoung states the obvious, her voice is so emphatic that it almost makes you cringe, because you hate it whenever she gets upset with you.

You chew your inner cheeks as you look away from their gaze while you tighten the clutch on the strap of your backpack. “Yes, and?” You dare to display your defiance, which rarely happens.

Wonyoung scoffs loudly, her disbelief is more than apparent. She rises from the couch and approaches you slowly, her eyes remaining fierce. “You’ve never come back this late! You didn’t even reply to any of our texts or return our calls!” She exclaims. “Do you even know how worried sick we got? The least you could do is inform us of your whereabouts.”

“You’re not my mother.” You snap at her, and you didn’t even intend to, but there is a newfound sensation bubbling within you that you want to unleash. Sure, Wonyoung and you bicker and even fight for a short period of time before returning to normalcy, but this time is different.

It almost feels as though you are completely fed up by their overprotectiveness and the way they often treat you like a helpless kid who knows nothing about what all stereotypical college students are like, and even more so when they often dictate your life choices.

Wonyoung’s glare deters you just slightly. “First, you’ve been giving us the cold shoulders since Saturday, and now you’re getting all attitude on us? I don’t know what happened to you, but you need to stop acting like a bitch.”

You flinch lightly as her words impact you, causing hurt to be written all over your features. Throughout the years you have known her, Wonyoung has never called you a bitch. Upon seeing the hurt reflecting in your eyes, guilt dawns on Wonyoung, but before she can apologise, you cut her off with a cold yet wavering tone.

“The fact that you still don’t even realise it yet proves that either you don’t care or you simply decided to close both eyes.”

“How are we supposed to realise anything when you don’t even confide in us?!” Wonyoung argues back.

“Hey, what’s with all the yelling?” Karina emerges from her room as she yawns, her hair is tangled while she is in her usual pyjamas, which consist of a black singlet and high shorts.

“Because I don’t feel comfortable with you guys anymore!” You raise your voice as you disregard Karina, now in a glaring contest with Wonyoung, while Yunjin’s worry is evident as she stands next to the latter. “After what happened on Devil’s Night, I don’t even know how to look at all of you the same as before.”

Amidst the anger, confusion is visible through Wonyoung’s gaze. “What are you talking about? And why did you bring up Devil’s Night?” 

“Tell us what really happened on Devil’s Night that made you act this way towards us, please.” Yunjin interjects firmly, but her gaze is softened, almost making you forget something about her.

The traumatising events reoccur in your mind as you release a shaky breath while attempting to maintain eye contact with Yunjin. “I saw you in the labyrinth garden. You were with one of the knights.” Your confession throws Yunjin off guard as she flinches visibly. “You were obviously enjoying it, even when the other knights were hunting down the rest of us and killed some students. Not to mention that there were gravely injured ones!”

Yunjin swallows harshly and takes a step forward. “I can explain─”

But your eyes return to Wonyoung before they dart down at her neck bearing hickeys. “Those are from Jungwon when he captured you that same night.” Your presumption proves correct when her cheeks tint pink. “I was worried for you and thought that he did something horrible to you, or worse.”

Getting overwhelmed by the different emotions that coalesce into one, your eyes begin to glisten with tears, blurring your vision with each blink. You can discern the guilt hanging in the cold air that is infused with their silence, but you continue to vent out the feelings you have suppressed.

“The thing that made me most upset about it was the fact that all of you didn’t seem the slightest bothered by what happened on Devil’s Night, including those students who were murdered by the notorious frat delinquents, and their only sins were simply having fun on a normal Halloween night!” You choke a sob with a fallen teardrop sliding down your cheek. “Even the rest of the students acted normal as if Devil’s Night wasn’t inhumane and traumatising enough.”

“That’s just how Devil’s Nights have always been.” Yunjin says her expression remains calmly collected, which infuriates you, because why does she seem indifferent about it? “And for that very reason, Devil’s Night is never meant for anyone with a faint heart.”

“Why are you suddenly blowing up on us about this?” Karina asks, giving you a bewildered stare. “We thought you were fine with it.”

“Because you girls should have told me in the first place how heinous Devil’s Night is!” You retort. “You girls were the ones who thought it was a good idea to bring me along with you in the first place.”

“I recall you agreeing and going to Devil’s Night on your own accord.” Wonyoung remarks annoyedly, her eyes narrowing at you.

“My biggest mistake.” You say in a tone that sounds foreign in your ears while you clench a fist. “You know what? I’m done with this.”

Just as you are about to retire to your room, Yunjin stops you with her inquiry, “At least tell us where you were earlier.”

With your back turned on them, you contemplate before opting for the other route. “None of your business.” You tell her quietly, yet it is resounding for them before you proceed to your room in haste and slam the door shut.

Your mind is on autopilot as you refuse to wallow in whatever feelings are storming all over you, heading for the bathroom to take a shower.

Minutes have passed since you entered the bathroom. Currently, you have just washed off the shampoo from your hair and are rinsing off the lathered soap on your body. Your face is devoid of emotion, but then comes the thought of Jake in your mind.

You recall what happened between the two of you earlier and how disgustingly aroused you were. A muscle pulses in your jaw while self-hatred shrouds you. How could you have done such deplorable acts just after you had sought forgiveness?

The shower steam is starting to fog in the bathroom as you remain under the shower head, allowing the water to rinse you thoroughly and self-reflecting your prior behaviour. 

But it feels as though there are devils whispering into your ears, making you recall again with another perspective how truly aroused you were and the delicious friction between your clit and the pointed tip of his clad cock, how the heat of his touch and his wet, messy kisses ignited your arousal.

You feel the familiar sensation stirring in your core before the essence starts to leak its way to your folds simply by fantasising about your ex-crush burying his thick cock into you. You squeeze your thighs in an attempt to suppress your arousal while simultaneously battling an internal conflict with yourself for being sinful once more.

Finally surrendering yourself to the devil’s lulling whisper, you begin to fantasise about Jake kissing you hotly and messily while groping every part of your body, his husky voice whispering all the dirty things seductively in your ear while he fucks you relentlessly.

You lean your back against the wall, slowly spreading your legs for good measure. Your fingers trail down to your aching clit which is in need of relief, while your free hand fondles your boob. Your head is tilted up with your chest heaving up and down as you circle your clit before you set a pace that is addictive, maintaining momentum that has you breathing heavily now.

Eventually, a moan leaves your lips as you rub and circle your clit fast while your fingers tweak and pull your hardened nipple. You begin to fantasise about Jake again, and this time, you imagine him doing this to you.

You had no idea how truly sensational masturbation was until now. You continue to get lost in the delirium, and you try your utmost to keep your moans at a minimum, but it’s like you lack the ability for control as you release moans that echo throughout the walls of the bathroom which you fear your best friends might hear.

You don’t stop, and you increase the pace as soon as you feel your orgasm impending. With one last moan, you finally come undone, feeling the sticky essence leaking from your wet folds.

With heavy pants, you quickly compose yourself by washing away the evidence of you coming undone. You know you should be disgusted with yourself, but amidst the immense guilt of the blasphemous deed, you feel a certain change within you.

Maybe you should meet him tomorrow by the palace and find out what he has in store for you.

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The next morning, you fall into your normal routine ─ waking up early for morning classes despite the lack of sleep last night, and evading your three best friends once again. But one thing is certain is the fact that you have been battling against the internal conflict within you.

Of course, before you fell into the state of slumber, you prayed and sought forgiveness from God with tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt like a hypocrite as soon as you woke up from the sleep filled with a lustful dream of Jake, and you were embarrassed by the fact that even in your sleep, you managed to get wet, as evident by the dampness of your pink underwear.

Throughout your morning class, you have been completely distraught and contemplated hard on your decision to meet Jake by the palace or not, and you tried conjuring any possibilities of tonight's outcome. Against your better judgement, you chose to venture to the route that the rational part of you has been relentlessly trying to stop you.

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you glance down to read a text from your good friend, prompting you to increase your walking pace.

WINTER: I’m on my way to your dorm. As much as I’m happy that you’re finally wearing something sexy for once, do I really want to know what is going on and why?

YOU: I’ll tell you later, but only if you promise to keep it a secret from the others.

WINTER: Our good baby girl is finally being scandalous now? Sign me up! Fine, I promise I won’t reveal your secret to others.

YOU: You’re the best, Minjeongie~

WINTER: I was born to be the best, babe.

You chuckle lightly before lifting your head up, but you bump into a solid back that causes you to stagger a step back. “I’m sorry.” Just as you apologise, his strong arm slings around your neck, causing you to nearly stumble forward under his weight.

“Hey, Y/N.” His sultry voice greets you, sending you bad shivers while your skin crawls with disgust as you finally look at him. You know him mainly because he used to throw vulgar remarks at you, and he and his other pals would often verbally bully you. They stopped when your friends stepped in and defended you from them.

“Alex,” You don’t bother to conceal your grimace as you attempt to shrug off his arm from your shoulder, but that only earns you to be roughly pulled into his side. You ignore the demeaning chuckles from his two pals. “let go of me.”

“I don’t think so, especially after we saw Giselle’s instastory of you wearing that tight dress and dancing like a stripper on Devil’s Night.” Alex’s disgustingly hot breath fans your earlobe as he speaks in a seductive lull. “If I had known beneath your pristine good girl facade is an attractive slut who should put her mouth to good use─”

Having had enough of being slut-shamed once more, you use your elbow to hit him hard in the stomach while a part of you is taken by surprise by your newfound bravery. Alex groans out in pain as he releases you, but his other pal, who goes by the name Simon, grabs your arm and slams you against the wall, eliciting a pained gasp from you at the impact.

By now, you tremble in fear when Simon pins you with no way out, his knee forcefully parting your legs. His lips curl into a sneer as he glares down at you. “Did you forget who we are? I guess it’s time we teach you a little lesson.”

You attempt to shove him by the chest, but your strength is no match compared to his. “Get away from me!” Your voice is laced with desperation for help, hoping that the students in your vicinity will come to save you, but they proceed to mind their own business as if they didn’t see you getting assaulted by your past bullies.

Your three bullies laugh degradingly as they surround you before Simon grabs a fist of your hair to pull your head to the back and force your neck to arch for him to administer his assault on your dainty neck as his lips touch your skin.

The corner of your eye is filled with tears, and this earns you a mockery of ‘awww’ from Alex and his other pal, who goes by Hans.

“No one’s going to help you, bitch.” Hans slaps your cheek lightly while you continue to struggle in Simon’s grasp. “You’re crying? We haven’t even done anything to you yet.

“What a fucking loser, as always.” Alex remarks with a smirk, watching you with a cruel glint in his eye.

Just as you think it’s over for you, a familiar yet sharp voice slices through the air like a knife that nearly has you flinching at how resonant it is. “Release her.”

Never have you ever expected Park Sunghoon to be the one to save you, or so you thought.

Simon doesn’t release the instant, but he does, however, look over his shoulder to cast a sneer at Sunghoon, whose face is devoid of emotion. “Mind your own business, Park. She’s ours to deal with.”

“We didn’t expect you to save your damsel in distress, Sunghoon.” Hans comments with his eyebrow arched, intrigued. “I thought you hated this bitch.”

Your eyes glisten at the moment Sunghoon’s cold eyes meet yours, the familiar sentiment you recognise all too well glints in his dark eyes. His lips curve into a sardonic smirk. “You’re right, but I’m not going to repeat myself when I tell you once again to release Y/N Kang.”

“Why?” Alex asks with a bewildered glare.

All the while, Sunghoon’s eyes remain on yours as he continues to speak, “Because she’s already mine to deal with. Trust me when I say I’ll be doing you guys a favour.”

Simon groans. His hand, which is grabbing a fist of your hair, tightens, eliciting a painful wince from you. “Just a few more minutes, Park. Let me fuck around with her for a little.

Sunghoon’s mere action of his hand gripping Simon’s shoulder firmly takes you by a slight surprise, as does the peculiar glint in his gaze at the back of the latter’s head. “I wasn’t asking, and you’ll do well to remember whose rank is higher between us.”

Simon clenches his jaw before he eventually releases you, allowing you to grasp the opportunity to calm your nerves. “Fine. You want her?” The next thing you know, Simon’s hands are on your shoulders tightly as he shoves you roughly towards Sunghoon, resulting in your tumble, and you find yourself on the ground.

You withstand the painful impact of landing on your knees. With your palms on the ground in front of you, you curl them into fists at the utter humiliation while you hear your three bullies snicker behind you. You allow your hair to cover any parts of your face as you refuse to look up, afraid of the expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“She’s all yours to deal with.” Simon tells Sunghoon with a sense of mockery.

“I don’t suppose you can consider sharing her with us.” Alex inquires smugly.

As you are directly kneeling in front of Sunghoon, you can feel him bending down before you feel his cold fingers gripping your chin tight and forcing you to look up at him.

The concoction of abhorrence and wickedness dance delightfully in his eyes, evoking a sense of foreboding from you. "Sorry, fellas, but you gotta find other girls to prey on. Y/N Kang is mine, and if it makes you feel better, I’ll do her much worse.” Sunghoon tells them, all the while keeping his cruel gaze on your glistening eyes.

His cold eyes rake over your features once more before he lets out a scoff. “Pathetic.” He utters the word to you as he releases your chin roughly.

You hear your three bullies erupt into laughter and praise Sunghoon. You finally find the will to look up and spot the three of them surrounding Sunghoon as they proceed to walk away from you.

With sore knees, you begin to rise from the ground and ignore the stares from the students in your vicinity who had witnessed the entire humiliation.

Your heart squeezes painfully as you recall the cruelty in Sunghoon’s cold gaze. You blame yourself for expecting him to save you when you should have known that he would side with your bullies.

As you wipe another fallen teardrop from your cheek, you advance forward, resuming your journey to your dorm, but your feet are practically dragging with a trail of your disheartened spirit.

All the while, you fail to realise a pair of familiar eyes with inexplicable storms have been watching the entire thing. 

With a face devoid of emotion, he watches your low-spirited figure get further and further before he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. He whips out his phone and proceeds to read the text notification from his best friend.

SUNGHOON: They took the bait. 

JAKE: Thanks. Remind Jungwon and Riki to lock every entrance and exit tonight.

The corner of Jake’s lips tips up in a smirk, while there is a familiar bloodthirsty glint in his eye as he leans away from the wall to make his way to meet the others.

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You stare in incredulity at the garments that are laid out on your bed, while the not-so-subtle squeals from your high-spirited friend don’t go unnoticed by you.

When you specifically asked Winter if you could borrow her fishnet tights, you naturally expected her to bring the aforementioned items, but you definitely did not expect her to bring along some of her garments.

The garments consist of a black long-sleeve button-up crop top and a black pleated skirt that reaches way above your knees, barely covering your thighs. Uncertainty resides in your gaze. One of your biggest insecurities is that your thighs are thicker than your best friends’.

Honestly, you’re not too fat, but neither are you too thin. Your body proportion is something you have always found unusual. Your shoulders are slender, your breasts weigh heavier, and you admit that it hurts to run sometimes. Your snatched waist as well as your hip dips are something you are proud of, but your thighs have always been an issue for you whenever you want to try out denim pants or just pants that don’t cater to your size. Plus, you have always received remarks about your thighs from some people.

“Um, Winter,” You scratch your damp hair while your body remains wrapped in a towel. “I think the fishnet tights are enough since I did specifically ask for them.” You point out the obvious along the lines of light chuckles.

“I know that, duh, but to add some spice, you have to wear these.” Winter’s adamant tone leaves you no choice but to acquiesce. “Now that we’re at it, what is the special occasion? Who are you hooking up with?”

You gasp at her just as you retrieve the pleated skirt and the black top. “I’m not hooking up with anyone!”

“Girl, you can’t fool me. I mean, fishnet tights, seriously?” Winter deadpans. “Plus, there is only one person who has fishnet tights kink, and that very person is the one and only Jake Sim.”

Your cheeks flare with diffidence, but a certain curiosity pops into your mind as you stare at her. “How do you know about that?”

“I’ve heard a thing or two from the girls he had slept with in the past.” Winter says, getting distracted as she inspects her acrylic nails. “So are you going to hook up with him or not?”

“I─” You pause, and uncertainty wraps around your head despite your understanding of the clear intent of his suggestion last night. You heave a sigh. “I don’t know, and I don’t even know why I’m doing this.”

“Face it, babe. Deep inside of you, you want a taste of him.” Winter grins smugly while you grimace in return. “I really want to know all the details about how you and him happened, but that can wait.”

You watch as Winter makes her way to your wardrobe drawer, where you store your undergarments, and pulls it open before she rummages through them.

“Winter!” You shriek as she tosses each out, causing them to be scattered on the floor. “I just had them organised last week!”

“I’ll reorganise them for you later!” Winter chirps before finally having her hands on the pieces she looked for. You hear her gasping dramatically. “Y/N Kang! You sneaky little vixen!”

You groan at the gleeful tone in her exclamation as well as the pretty black lace bra and underwear in her grasp. “Karina bought them for my birthday last year.” You grumble out.

“That’s my girl.” A Cheshire grin adorns Winter’s face at the mention of Karina. She shoves those undergarments into your already-occupied hands. “Now go. I’ll be waiting here to do your makeup gorgeously so Jake won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

You roll your eyes in return, but just as you move forward, you halt your steps and look at Winter, who is seated on the edge of your bed, bouncing lightly with the same grin on her face. “I promise to tell you all the details of how it happened, but can you promise me that you won’t tell the others?”

“You have my word.” Winter gives you a firm head nod.

“Not a single soul.” You say firmly.

“Girl, just get your ass into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll keep all of your naughty deeds in full secrecy.”

Your eyes narrow at Winter as she makes the silly gesture of zipping her mouth before you eventually relax the tension in your head and proceed to change.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Maybe it has to do with the fact that a part of you has been looking forward to this night, but by the time you arrive by the gates of the palace, you realise that it is still a little earlier than the time Jake had stated last night.

The cold breeze manages to breach through the thin material of your top, sending you shivers before you latch your arms around your figure in an attempt to warm yourself. The same breeze caresses your legs, which are adorned with fishnet tights, prompting you to press the button at the side as it buzzes.

Just as you retract your hand, a moment of ambivalence hits you. The rational part of you is begging for you to reevaluate your absurd decision to come here, but the moment the golden gates automatically open, you know that it is too late to back out. You can only afford to wallow in regret.

With each step you take forward, your heart gradually pounds hard against your chest, uncertain of what the night holds. Of course, you are expecting something that involves resuming where the two of you left off last night, but at the same time, you are caught up in turmoil.

The loud clanging sound of the golden gates surprises you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see the gates are closed, unable to make your exit. You swallow harshly before proceeding to venture forward.

Naturally, you head for the palace’s entrance, and as soon as you nearly reach it, a figure sporting all-black attire emerges from the side bush, and just his abrupt presence alone manages to give you a scare as you let out a shriek.

You hear chuckles beneath the grey mask that obscures his identity. “You really do have a faint heart.”

At the sound of his voice, a frown tugs at your lips. “Jungwon?”

Once Jungwon removes his mask, his feline-like eyes lock with yours, and his lips curve into a grin that has inexplicable intent. “You arrived earlier than expected.” He remarks calmly while you shift comfortably under his gaze. “Whatever. Either way, you’re going to get what you want the moment you step foot into our zone.”

Jungwon takes a menacing step forward, and instinctively, you recoil, but Jungwon is swift enough to grab you by the arm and pull you roughly towards him. “Last chance for you. Are you sure you’re up for this?” He asks quietly, his dark eyes scrutinising your face. “Because once you agree, everything that will happen next is essentially consensual.”

The apprehension in your tummy becomes tenfold while your mind is imploring you to run from this place, but your curiosity will always get the best of you. “Yes, I’m up for this.” The words fly out of your mouth affirmatively, and the small voice in your head is berating you for basically digging in your own grave.

A glimmer of delight shines in Jungwon’s eye. “You’re stupid, Y/N.” He remarks with a derogatory chuckle, but there is a certain knowingness etched on his face. “But I can see why he has taken a liking to you.”

You ignore the way his eyes rake all over your figure before he returns his gaze to your face and tightens his grip on your arm. “Let’s go.”

Instead of guiding you into the palace, Jungwon navigates his way around the building while literally dragging you as you struggle to keep up with him.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, and you nearly stumble due to the roughness of his deadly grip on your arm as he continues to pull you.

Jungwon doesn’t answer your question straight away, and just as you are about to inquire once more, your attention is pulled away from him to the familiar massive labyrinth garden. Those unpleasant memories from Devil’s Night flood your mind while you stagger a step back, flinching in fear.

You haven’t realised Jungwon has released his grip on your arm until his voice draws your attention to him once more. “Jake doesn’t know that you’re here yet, because he is preoccupied with a little something.” Your eyes narrow at his coy smile. “In fact, I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“Then why have you brought me here?” You ask adamantly, no longer restraining your great annoyance for him.

“To spice things up, as you girls would say. You should head inside and don’t even think about trying to escape.” Jungwon warns you, his smile is no longer on his face. He takes deliberate, slow steps back while keeping his dark gaze trained on your face. “Good luck, Y/N. Hopefully, you’ll survive the night.”

“What?” You frown, watching as he gets further and further away. “Jungwon!”

Concurrently, as soon as you call for Jungwon, a scream belonging to a man pierces through the cold air, startling you. Your heart begins to pound in apprehension as you hear some commotion nearby.

You should have run away, but instead, you take tentative steps forward while you survey your surroundings, and you can discern another noise that sounds awfully akin to those gory movies you watched, as though someone is being stabbed.

“H-Hey, man! We can talk things out instead!”

You frown at the familiar voice of your bully, who sounds frantic and pleading with someone. You halt your steps just as you are about to turn to the right corner, where the source of the commotion is happening.

“You should’ve thought about it the moment you dared to touch and kiss her with your filthy lips.”

You are nearly rendered shocked by the unfamiliar coldness in his tone amidst the palpable darkness. You swallow down a lump in your throat before daring yourself to take a peek, and when you do, your eyes widen in mortification at the gruesome sight of Alex and Han’s lifeless bodies with blood splattered everywhere, but what horrifies you the most is the slit wound on their necks with blood oozing profusely still.

“You’re fucking deranged, Jake!” Simon’s yell pulls your attention to them, and you watch as Simon attempts to crawl backwards away from Jake while his hand is holding the side of his bleeding waist. “To go to this extent just for that fat bitch?!”

You know too well he is referring to you, causing you to wallow momentarily in dejection upon the familiar insult you have heard before. But Simon’s yell pulls your gaze to him again, and this time, you accidentally release an audible gasp that no doubt reaches their ears.

With Jake’s back facing you, you watch in pure horror when he plunges the knife in his grasp deep into Simon’s stomach with no hesitation. Simon coughs out blood, and that is also when you realise how badly fucked up his face looks. 

“The ‘fat bitch’ you referred to has a name, and for the record, she’s not fat.” Jake’s voice sounds deeper, and you can detect the snarl in his tone. “I’m so gonna enjoy killing you for assaulting what’s mine.”

“She’s not worth it!” Simon manages to splutter, wheezing as Jake twists the knife deeper into his stomach before he withdraws the knife to bring it to Simon’s neck. Simon doesn’t have the opportunity to say his last words when Jake swiftly slices his neck with clean precision, as though he is an expert at killing his victim.

You watch as the life in Simon’s eyes perishes before Jake roughly releases him, allowing his body to fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Numbness is all you can feel. As you stare at their lifeless bodies, you have no idea what to feel for them. Internal conflict resides with you. A part of you agrees with the fact that they deserve to die after what they did to you, but the goodness in you feels sorrowful over their deaths. 

The metallic smell of their blood pervades the foreboding atmosphere as well as your nostrils, snapping you out of the trance before you redirect your focus on the man whom you thought wasn’t capable of such a heinous act.

Holding the blood-stained knife that is dripping with the remnants of Simon’s blood, he slowly turns around, giving you a good view of his appearance. Your jaw goes unhinged upon seeing the ghostface mask obscuring his face.

By now, it is too late for you to hide yourself from him, as you can almost feel the intensity of his gaze behind that mask. Trepidation courses through your veins while your stomach churns with uneasiness as you stare at him in a different light.

Jake tilts his head slightly to one side, as though he is curious. “What are you doing out here?”

You don’t answer his question as you dart your eyes at your dead bullies before swallowing harshly. “You killed them.”

Jake takes a step forward, but you instinctively back away from him. “Why the sad face, beautiful? Shouldn’t you be glad that I did you a favour? They won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You curl your hand into a fist while you attempt to soothe your nerves. “But you didn’t have to kill them.” You say shakily.

“Of course, I had to!” Jake’s sudden outburst startles you, making you go flinching. “Don’t you understand? They fucking assaulted you! This is the consequence of their actions!”

“You’re crazy, Jake!” You surprise yourself when you manage to find your voice, but your hand remains trembling in fear for the man you thought was filled with radiant kindness.

Jake halts his steps, and it is hard for you to decipher the expression on his face, but at the moment he releases chuckles, you shiver at how dark and deadly he sounds. “You haven’t seen anything crazy yet, beautiful.”

In a blink of an eye, he charges towards you, and your body goes into a fight-or-flight mode as you find yourself running away from him. You don’t even have the time to marvel at your agility and how you are able to run at this pace, only desperate to fight for your survival.

Behind his mask, a cunning grin smears across his lips, finding the sheer thrill and excitement in preying on you. He purposefully decreases his pace, giving you the illusion that you have managed to outrun him as the two of you have entered the palace.

Things have differed from the original plans he had for you. You weren’t even meant to witness him kill your bullies. He had only intended to let you know after he managed to bury himself inside of you. Part of him is mad at Jungwon, but he can’t deny that this changes things into a rather thrilling adventure.

The darkness lurking beneath his charming countenance relishes the palpable fear and anxiety you exude as he watches you ascend to the second floor in haste.

You stop momentarily to take a breather. Your chest squeezes painfully with each breath you take. As you look around, you silently berate yourself for not making it to the exit of the palace.

“Awww, why did you stop running?” Your body goes frigid upon hearing his voice just a few metres from behind you.

You whip around, staring at him with wide panic eyes. “Let’s play a little game, shall we?” He says, taking one step forward. “You’re going to run and find someplace to hide,” A chuckle of delight leaves his lips. “but if I catch you, I will fuck you, and if you try to escape again, I will kill you.”

Jake does not mean it literally. He just wants to give you a good scare. The way your glistening eyes are staring at him in palpable fear entices the wickedness in him.

The trepidation is making your head dizzy, while the fear enveloping your weak heart springs tears to your eyes. “J-Jaeyun─”

“Run, Y/N.” Jake shocks you as he nearly growls out, but it is as though your body has been paralysed, remaining rooted to the ground. “I said fucking run!”

And you do, picking up the pace. The interior is massive enough for you to aid your refuge from facing Jake’s malignity, and you grasp the opportunity to turn into a deep end corner where the long stretch of corridor displays doors that lead to different rooms.

“You better start hiding, my lovely!”

You dash straight for the flight of stairs next to you, all plans of hiding in one of the rooms are forgotten. When you reach the third floor, you have a hunch that either of these doors are their rooms.

Hearing his footsteps approaching from below, you decide to shove yourself inside an empty store room, which lacks any lights, before closing the door as quietly as you can. You whip out your phone frantically in an attempt to turn on the flashlight while your heart is racing at the familiar fear of being shrouded in total darkness.

With a heavy pant as you lean your back against the wall, you grasp this opportunity to regulate your emotions, which feel like a maelstrom within you. Your hand that is holding your phone remains trembling from the trepidation.

Your phone vibrates as notifications pop up.

WONYOUNG: Hey, can we talk later?

WINTER: Have fun, babe! Don’t forget to tell me all the juicy details ;)

You scoff lightly at Winter’s text. If only she knew that Jake was a psychopathic killer who had murdered your bullies. But then again, you don’t feel the slightest remorse. 

Instead of responding to any of them, you tuck your phone in your pocket and inch closer to the door. You press your ear against the door in an attempt to listen for his voice or footsteps, but there are none. Your hand finds its way to twist the doorknob before you slowly pull open the door. You peek your head outside and check for the coast.

The ominous atmosphere is accompanied by a cold, deadly silence. Mustering courage, you switch off your flashlight and step out of the room. You begin to devise quickly, deciding that you need to find another way to make your escape.

Stealthily, you advance forward, but hesitation is discernible from each step you take. Your inner turmoil persists while your skin is crawling with dread, hating how painfully silent the whole palace is and how dim the lights are getting.

Just as you are about to make your descent to the second floor, a startled gasp leaves your lips when your eyes lock onto the familiar ghostface. He is leaning sideways against the wall with one arm folded while the other is toying around with his knife.

“Hello, love.” Jake greets you, remaining unmoving from his position while you are trembling with palpable fear for your predator. You can already imagine the grin on his face as you detect his tone.

“Jake,” There is a plea in your voice as you take a step back. “please, let me go.”

But Jake simply ignores your plea. You watch as he goes perfectly still, as does the air around you while your figure is transfixed. You draw a sharp breath while your heart pounds erratically against your chest, uncertain of what to expect next.

The movement of his head tilted catches your keen eyes, and without any warning given to you, he catches you off guard when he dashes up to you, and you release fearful shrieks as you attempt to make a run in the opposite direction.

For a moment, you have forgotten that he used to be the captain of the rugby team, and you underestimated his agility.

With his hand firmly on your arm, he pulls you to him until your back hits his solid chest. You swear you hear his low, ragged breaths beneath his mask, and this position reminds you of the night he danced intimately with you, but this time, he has embodied a serial killer that you watched on screen twice.

Jake doesn’t say anything and forcefully drags you to one of the rooms, which you presume is his room. The cold air smacks you in the face as he forces you into his room. He kicks the door closed behind him before guiding you to his king-sized bed and pushing you down without any thoughts of gentleness.

You land face-flat on the mattress with a grunt before quickly turning around, your eyes staring at your own ghostface looming ominously over your figure. Your skirt is hiked way above your thighs as you attempt to scramble away from him, but just as you do, your pulses drum in your ears when he pins you on the bed with his knee in between your parted legs.

The streaks of moonlight streaming into his bedroom window illuminate the mask, allowing you to soak up the image of his ghostface mask up-closed into your frazzling mind as he leans down. Your eyes widen the slightest fraction while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. 

As the faint metallic smell of blood is detectable from his potentially stained black garments, your fear becomes tenfold, but you refrain from allowing the tears that have collected in the rims of your eye to leak out.

"I told you to run, did I not?" The pointed tip of his once blood-stained knife grazes down on your cheek tantalisingly slowly before it reaches your neck.

A tear manages to escape the corner of your eye while you release a whimper that galvanises the wickedness in him. "J-Jake, t-this isn't you─"

"You have no idea who I truly am, lovely." His chuckles that you once found endearing before are laced with malicious intent, and your body trembles with trepidation beneath him when he presses the sharp edge of the knife to your throat. "Do you remember what I told you earlier about what happens if I catch you?"

"You─" Your voice visibly shakes, which denotes fear, and your breath hitches in your throat when he uses his other hand to expertly unbutton your top while he awaits your next words. You swallow a whimper before forcing yourself to speak again. "You will fuck me." You weakly utter the profanity that tastes like poison on your tongue.

"And if you try to escape?" He asks, humming delightfully as he unfastens the last button of your top, now revealing your pretty black lace bra that barely covers the expanse of your plump breasts.

Dread crawls onto your skin as you whisper the next words, "You'll kill me."

You watch as he slowly removes his mask, allowing his long strands to hover over his chiselled forehead. You ignore the way your heart flutters as he smirks down at you with the craze glinting in his eyes. "I'm going to fuck you all night, and you're going to scream my name until you forget yours, but first, spread your legs for me, lovely."

Jake proceeds to unzip the side of your pleated skirt before pulling it down, with you obediently assisting him as you lift your hips, which earns you an appreciative hum from him.

He taps your thigh, a signal you surprisingly understand, and you do as you were told, slowly spreading your legs for him despite the embarrassment flooding scarlet red across your cheeks, but you are thankful that the room barely has any lights. You don’t want him to see the stretch marks around your thighs.

It takes him every ounce of self-restraint from completely pouncing on you and burying his cock to the hilt of your cunt. He can already imagine the sweet taste of your pussy that no one has ever breached.

His eyes rake all over your magnificent figure, and he marvels at how truly perfect you look, especially your thighs that he desires to squeeze around his head as he delves into your cunt.

On the other hand, you take his silence as him judging you, causing your insecurity to resurface until you find yourself closing your thighs, but Jake is not having any of that.

“I said to keep them open, lovely.” Jake speaks through gritted teeth, his hand on the plump of your inner thigh and forcing it open, and you heed his command, not wanting to piss him off any longer.

At the moment his thumb comes into direct contact with your clit, you gasp in surprise. Your mouth opens partially with more inaudible gasps as his thumb begins to stroke your clit tenderly. The thin material of your translucent lace black underwear allows you to feel the friction distinctly.

“Did you dress up all prettily for me, love?” The gentleness in his tone takes you by surprise while he continues his ministration on your now-aching clit, which needs more than his thumb. He hums seductively, leaning down to place a sensual kiss on your throat. “I knew you would never disappoint me. You’re too good. My good fucking girl.”

Butterflies awaken from their slumber in your tummy upon hearing his praise, sending you an odd sensation. Sure, you’ve always earned praise from your family and your friends, but this feels like it's on another level. It makes you crave to seek validation and earn praise from him.

Jake steals your chance to speak as he decides to take you by great surprise when he practically rips your lace underwear, drawing a disbelieving gasp from you. “Jaeyun!”

“It was in the way, lovely.” He nearly whines in between grumbles, surprising you again. Just as he is about to grab both your thighs, you close them again as you shake your head. “Love─”

“They’re too thick.” You allow yourself to display vulnerability over the fact that you’re insecure about your thighs. Your head is turned sideways, and you do not know what the expression on his face is. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t─ Jaeyun!”

A shriek emits from you at the moment he roughly pushes your thighs apart by force and hooks his arms around them before pulling you roughly until your legs are hanging in the air by the bed. That is when you also realise he is kneeling to the ground with his face directly at your clean-shaved pussy.

“Thick or not, I don’t care.” He murmurs, nearly salivating, as his eyes zero in on your pussy. “I’m gonna show you the appreciation you deserve.” He squeezes your thigh with affection.

Something stirs within you, a newfound sentiment, but before you can decipher it, the wet sensation on your folds shocks you before you raise your head slightly to see him lapping his tongue on the heat of your pussy.

“Jae─” You stop midway, your mouth parting open with breathy moans. Your chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily as his wet muscle delves in between your folds. The tip of his nose grazes against your aching clit as he inhales your sweet scent that matches your taste. He continues to eat you out, as though he has been long since deprived of pussy, getting addicted to your taste as he licks your nectar.

Maybe because you’re a virgin, but fuck, you taste divine, unlike anything he imagined. His cock starts to harden at the tightness of your cunt around him.

Eventually, you begin to grind your hips as you desire to feel his tongue deeply into you, and his chest rumbles with approval from your ministration. “Nngh! Oh my god!” A high-pitched moan tears from your throat, rolling your eyes as you throw your head to the back and realise how sensational getting eaten out truly is.

But Jake halts, retracting his tongue from your needy cunt and drawing a whine from you. His tongue hits the roof of his mouth, hating the word that just came out of your mouth.

“God, please, please, please!” You sound pathetic as you plead for him to lap your cunt.

“No more praying for you, baby.” You hear the derogatory tone and husky rasp projecting in his voice, along with that attractive, thick accent.

Your thighs are hurting with the way his nails are digging into your skin, and goosebumps arise on the surface of your skin as he lightly blows at your inviting, wet hole before he takes you by surprise once more as he dives back into you, and this time, the lapping of his tongue on your tongue is messy and sounds utterly obscene.

“Jake!” Your moan sounds disgustingly lewd in your ears, and yet you don’t want this to end, gradually grinding your hips while your fingers are tugging the roots of his raven strands hard, eliciting a groan from him that sends vibration through your body.

“That’s right. Scream my name just like that.” He chuckles darkly as he pulls away from you just slightly before plunging his fingers into you, causing your jaw to unhinge at the abrupt invasion. “This room is your church, and I’m your fucking preacher now, baby.”

You should be hating the words that left his mouth, but instead, you become even more aroused with lust, as it is clouding your better judgement. 

His two fingers thrust in and out of your slick cunt tentatively, watching you under his dark gaze. Despite the raging beast in him that is close to being unleashed, he knows that he should be gentle with you, and he also yearns to make your first memorable.

“You okay?” He asks softly, halting his fingering movement upon seeing your face.

Your glistening eyes meet his dark ones as he hovers on top of you, and you nearly melt at the sweetness of his gaze, such a contrast to the person he was earlier. Your eyes flicker down at his plump lips before you slowly nod your head. “I’m okay. I want─”

You smack your lips shut together, feeling diffident at how needy you sound. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of his fingers from your pussy.

“What do you want, lovely?” He asks, his gentle tone is an encouragement to you.

“I want more,” You tell him meekly, but the sincerity in you is palpable. Hesitantly, you decide to take initiative as your hands find their way to slither upward to his chest until they latch on the sides of his neck. “and I want you to kiss me.”

His heart soars at how adorable you are, but soon, the darkness inside of him takes control, wanting nothing more than to ruin you by the time he is done with you. Ruin for anyone to take you. Ruin for his best friends to fuck you.

He presses his lips against yours in a heated kiss, savouring the taste of cherry on your lips that has him kissing you with such fervour. Your skin tingles as his hand roams around your body before it rests on the side of your thigh, palming and squeezing the flesh in appreciation.

Satisfaction spreads across his chest as he hums into the kiss at the fact that you remembered his request that you wear fishnet tights.

As he pulls his lips away from yours, you gasp, feeling utterly breathless by the kiss. Your eyes are dazed as he retrieves the knife from the side without you knowing what he has planned for you next.

“Now, lovely, you’re going to fuck yourself onto my knife and cum on the handle.” He commands darkly, pulling you out of the trance as nervousness pulses through you.

“W-What?” You are clearly flabbergasted by the absurdity of his command and the abrupt shift in his demeanour. “But Jaeyun─”

Your breath hitches in your throat as the handle of the knife touches your clit before he drags it down to your wet slit. “Don’t disappoint your preacher now. You’re my good church girl, aren’t you?” The subtle derogatory tone in his voice makes you aroused instead of humiliated.

“Yes.” You whisper, subsequently grinding your slick cunt on the handle with his hand gripping the other edge. With each stroke you administer, you become more aroused amidst the fear of the sharp edge cutting your skin.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, refraining from eliciting a moan. But Jake narrows his eyes at you and, without warning, pushes the handle in between your wet folds threateningly. “Don’t you dare silence out your pretty moans.”

A whimper emits from you, but you don’t stop grinding, needing to achieve the prior climax. But the knife’s handle alone is not enough, prompting your thumb to find its way to your aching clit that is in need of relief.

Jake watches you with heavy lust that shrouds his dark gaze as you masturbate. The tendrils of your brunette waves spread above you gracefully while your lidded eyes are reflecting the same desire as his, and soft moans occasionally leave your mouth as you grind on the knife sensually. Your chest heaves up and down, allowing his eyes to marvel at the plumpness of your breasts, which are still adorned with a black lace bra.

Oh, you are most definitely his wet dream. 

“Jaeyun.” Your pretty moan pulls him out of the trance, and when he looks down at you, your eyes are glistening with needy tears. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, lovely.” He leans down to place a wet kiss on your lips that leaves you wanting more of him. “Wanna see you cum all over this knife.”

He swats your thumb away from your clit and assists you, his thumb circling your clit deliberately fast that has your stomach twist in a knot while his other hand, which is holding the knife, unrelentingly slides up and down on your wet folds.

“J-Jaeyun!” You moan out, throwing your head to the back with your hands now latching onto your breasts to palm them, unintentionally giving him a show to marvel at. With how skillful his thumb is, you feel your orgasm impending.

“Come on, lovely. Cum.” He nearly growls out his command as he quickens the pace of his thumb on your clit, and at once, your thighs slightly tremble as you finally come undone while you roll your eyes to the back.

His tongue slides across his bottom lip as he gazes down, enthralled by the sight of your cum leaking from your wet folds before they drip down to the handle. You whimper when you feel the warm handle come into contact with your folds as he uses it to scoop some of your essence.

Jake brings the handle to your lips. “Open.” On his command, you do, and you are caught off guard when he inserts the handle into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Lick your cum.”

Despite the sticky sensation on your tongue that you find disgusting, your tongue begins to lick and swirl around to capture the remnants of your cum. All the while, your eyes remain fixated on Jake’s, wanting to please him.

His eyes darken with something primal at the image of you sucking and licking his cock the way you do now, but he’ll leave that for the others to teach you, because right now, the only thing he needs is to be inside of you.

He pulls the handle away from your mouth and tosses it elsewhere on the bed before slamming his lips on yours, forcing his tongue into the hot cavern of your mouth and licking the remnants of your cum on your tongue. You moan into the lewd kiss, your hands roaming around his body.

“I’m gonna fuck you raw now,” He murmurs against your wet lips before pulling away. “and I’ll be fucking you as ghostface.”

Your heart quickens in anticipation, and the excitement dancing in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he retrieves his mask at the side, chuckling darkly at you. “Yeah? You like the idea of a serial killer fucking you, baby?”

You don’t answer as you watch him shed the mask, obscuring his charming countenance. He unzips his pants and allows them to fall to the ground, prompting you to look at his lower region in surprise to see the visible thickness through the material of his boxer brief.

You look away as soon as he pulls it down. You feel him spreading your thighs once more, and this time, something warm and heavy taps onto your clit causes your body to jolt at the pleasurable sensation. He does it again and again, enjoying how your body responds just by the tip of his cock hitting your clit.

“Please.” You plead in a whimper, hating how he teases you. You attempt to entice him by sensually moving your hips.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He grins behind his mask, collecting the wetness from your folds and using it as lubricant before slowly inserting his dick into your inviting hole that welcomes him, but the tightness is still there, eliciting a hiss from him. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight.”

Your jaw slackens at the girth of his shaft, feeling the thickness that your walls are having a hard time accommodating to his size. A fallen teardrop streaks on your cheek, alarming him.

“It’ll be all right in a moment.” He cups the side of your face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear on your cheek. He grunts as he continues to breach your entry. Your tightness is driving him crazy. “Just gotta get you adjusted to my cock─” Your cunt finally envelopes him wholly. “There we go.” A satisfied groan rumbles deep from his chest, relishing the way your warm walls hug his cock. 

As he slowly thrusts into you, the pain you are feeling is unlike any other. You underestimated his thickness.

More tears are collecting in the rims of your eyes as he drags his cock along your walls, but his constant whisper of reassurances and the way he is cradling your cheek with care alleviate the pain temporarily before it transitions into something you discern pleasure in.

Your hand flies to grip onto his bicep for support, feeling his muscle beneath your touch flex.

Upon hearing feeble moans from your lips, he begins to pick up the pace, thrusting into you fervently with an insatiable hunger for you. His fingers dig into your skin at your hips painfully, but it is an addictive pain you relish.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me hard, baby.” His husky voice sends your heart fluttering. He grabs one of your legs and holds it to his shoulder, his hand squeezing your calf while you are a tad surprised by how flexible you are. “Talk to me, lovely. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“So, so good.” The sound of your adorable whine has him clenching his jaw, and a loud moan comes from your throat as he snaps his hips against your bum, burying himself to the hilt. “Jaeyun!”

“Fuck, baby.” He grits his teeth as he feels your walls clamping around him tight, as though they never want to let go. “Scream my name again.”

Jake withdraws his cock from you, leaving only the tip to remain in between your folds, before delivering a hard thrust into you with his hips slapping the back of your thighs painfully. You scream his name again before moaning his name like a mantra as he continues to fuck you.

You whimper with tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare at him, loving the pain and pleasure he is giving you. He grabs your other leg to his shoulder and encases your calf with his arms in a lock before fucking deeply into you in a mating press that nearly has your body folded into half.

For a moment, your jaw goes slacken with silent moans emitting from your lips while your eyes go white as they roll to the back in pure ecstasy, feeling the way he is splitting you open.

With high-pitched moans leaking from your nearly drooled lips, you feel the familiar impending orgasm knocking violently on the door. “Jaeyun!” You begin to scream his name over and over, which sounds euphonious to his ears.

“Yeah? You’re close, lovely?” He asks mockingly, fucking into you without any ounce of mercy while his raging cock is in dire need of release, especially with the way your walls are quivering around him. but he holds himself back from cumming so easily. “Fucking cum all over my cock.”

At his command, you release a high-pitched moan as you come undone for the second time, your thighs quivering in his grasp. You take note of how he rubs your thigh almost affectionately.

You whimper weakly, feeling exhausted from the events that happened tonight, but he is unrelentingly fucking into you. “Jaeyun, no more.” You plead helplessly, and yet, your arousal eventually returns to you the heat of your core despite your sensitivity.

“I’ll stop whenever I want to.” He snarls, chasing for his orgasm, his thighs hitting harshly at the back of your thighs and ass as they jiggle before delivering one last harsh thrust and withdrawing from you. His hand latches around his raging cock to rub it fast before sprouts of his cum emerge from the tip, aiming it at your tummy.

“Fuck yes.” He moans out breathily, sending you a flutter at how good he sounds.

The sensation of his sticky cum on your tummy sends you shivers down your spine. Your eyes lazily glance down, only to be rendered appalled by the girth of his cock as it remains pointed towards you. His two fingers scoop his cum from your tummy to bring it to your lips.

Automatically, your lips part open for him to shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to swallow his cum while you remain in eye contact with the eye sockets of his mask.

You moan, licking his fingers, and your tongue swirls around them. You look so fucking innocent with the way your doe eyes are staring at him while you suckle and lick the cum off his fingers like a good slut. His cock starts to harden again.

He pulls his fingers away from your mouth and slaps your thigh. “Get up. We aren’t done.” He says sternly as he unzips his bomber jacket and tosses them aside, revealing his fine glory of toned abdominal muscles that allow your eyes to feast on.

Your eyes trail to the ink tattooed on his right collarbone, an interesting yet beautiful design of a snake. 

His hand latches around your forearm to assist you in standing, and when you do, you wobble lightly, but you don’t have time to process anything when he pulls you down. This time, he has you settled on his lap, directly where his cock is.

He grabs his shaft to smack it on your sticky tummy while you hear his low, ragged breaths behind his mask. “You’re going to ride me and take me like the good church girl you are while you confess your sins to me.”

Your breath hitches, feeling him tap his cock on your sensitive clit with his hand on your waist, holding you up slightly as he aims it at your awaiting cunt before he forces you to sink down to his girth, eliciting a moan from you due to the fullness. His cock remains snugly fitted into your pulsating cunt.

“Whenever you are ready.” He says in mockery as he slaps your quivering thigh again. “And I don’t want to see you stop fucking on me.”

With a shaky breath, you grind on him tentatively, unsure if what you’re doing is the right way, but with his hand on your hip serving as an aid, you gain confidence and begin to bounce on him.

“Forgive me, Father,” You struggle to form out the sentence, swallowing a moan at the delirious friction of your walls getting assaulted by the girth of his cock. Your hands latch on his nape for support while your head is tilted to the back, moaning out before speaking shakily again, “for I have sinned.”

“And what are your sins?” Jake asks in between bated breaths, struggling to refrain himself from bucking his hips to meet your thrust.

“For being a hypocrite,” The words fly out of your mouth, as though another person is speaking through you. You bounce on him again, practically using him as you fuck him. “For masturbating myself last night─ Nngh!” You moan as soon as Jake bucks his hips to meet your thrust.

“Did you, now, lovely?” He chuckles darkly, now removing his mask and allowing you to marvel at his chiselled features that glisten with sweat on his skin. The long strands of his hair look damp, but you yearn to run your fingers through them.

“Y-Yes!” You gasp out as he thrusts again, and this deep, you can feel the tip hitting your cervix.

“What else?” He murmurs, his hand traversing your body until it finds the back of your bra before he unclips it expertly. With your assistance, he pulls the bra away from you and tosses it elsewhere.

You lose focus at the moment he leans forward to latch his hot mouth on your perky nipple, licking and sucking it with a hum that sends vibration through your body. His strong arm is encasing your waist to hold you in place, pulling you impossibly closer to his body while he continues to thrust up into you, and the other hand goes to fondle your other boob that is in need of attention.

With his administration on your boobs, you now realise that you are sensitive to having your boobs and nipples played with, which add fuel to your impending orgasm that is threatening to crash down at any moment of time.

Hearing no response from you with the exception of breathy moans from your lips, Jake withdraws from your now glistening nipple and smacks your thigh, causing your body to jolt.

“I said, what else? Including your worst confession.” He demands in a soft tone, such a contrast to the way he is bouncing you on his cock while occasionally smacking your thighs. “Tell me while I baptise your thighs till it hurts.” He smirks cockily before leaning down your chest to capture the silver cross in between his teeth.

Your walls tighten around his cock upon seeing how hot he looks, gazing sultry at you with the silver cross remaining in between his teeth and some of his long strands sticking to his forehead, yet you can discern his mischief.

Tears begin to leak from your eyes at how painfully he smacks your thighs, yet you don’t stop fucking yourself deeply on him, allowing his tip to bruise your cervix. “Forgive me, Father, for I have committed a despicable sin,” You manage to utter in between bated breaths and whimpers, and your body jolts again as his palm lands another smack on your now reddened thigh. “A sin that I swore to protect and reserved my chastity for the one marrying me.”

Something snaps inside of Jake as soon as those words leave your mouth. The green infuses the red in him, driving him to grip your buttcheeks tightly before bringing you down with him as his back hits the mattress.

“Jake!” You scream as he thrusts into you with a newfound vigour, bottoming you with your skin slapping his loudly and your boobs pressed against his warm, solid chest.

“Wrong name again, baby.” With one hand remaining gripping your buttcheek, the other makes its ascent to grab a fist of your hair, tugging your head to the back before he leans up to pepper his kisses all over your throat. 

You gasp in pain as his teeth bite down on your skin. “Jaeyun! That hurt!”

Jake releases your skin, allowing you to fall your head to the nook of his sticky neck. Your lips continue to emit moans and whimpers as he bottoms out harder, wanting to feel you deeply again.

“Just a little more.” He grits his teeth as his jaw clenches, feeling your walls clamp around him as you come undone for the third time of the night. You slump weakly against him, your breaths labouring.

But Jake doesn’t relent. He continues to piston in and out, his hands gripping your buttcheeks deliciously to bring you down on his dick, before he lands a hard smack on your ass as it echoes throughout his room.

Jake grunts out a moan as he quickly unsheathes his dick from your quivering cunt before familiar white cum sprouts from the tip messily on his bedsheets.

“Jaeyun, wait.” You mumble weakly as you feel him manhandling you into a different position, now finding yourself laying on him with your back against his. He ignores your protest, spreading your thighs wide before grabbing his cock to aim into your spent pussy.

“I told you, lovely,” He rasps beside your ear as he inserts his cock back into you, and your velvety walls welcome him once more despite your pathetic protests. “that I'm gonna fuck you all night."

With his hands gripping your hips, he proceeds to thrust up into you while your jaw goes slacken again. Your hands claw at his forearms, squirming to get away from him despite his strength that outweighs yours.

Your defiance has led him to smack down your trembling thigh, and eventually, you surrender, slumping against him while allowing him to fuck into you as though you’re a sexdoll. 

“I’m close.” He whispers beside your ear as he migrates his hand to your cunt and rubs your clit. The other ascends to fondle your boob and tweak your nipple, rolling them between his fingers. The pleasure from both his cock destroying your cunt and his hand assaulting your boob is intensifying. “Cum with me, angel.” He says gently, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

The familiar knot twists in your abdomen before your whole body trembles as you come undone again. He unsheathes his cock from your hole and shoots his cum messily everywhere on your thighs and your outer womanhood.

You remain motionless on top of him with your body trembling from the overstimulation while your breathing is laboured and your lidded eyes are dazed from all the fucking. You hear him breathing heavily, and you feel his heart beating violently against your back. Butterflies flutter around your tummy at the sensation of his touch on your skin as he rubs your inner thighs soothingly.

Everything hurts, and yet, it is the kind of hurt you have grown addicted to and undoubtedly leaves you wanting more.

His fingers grip your chin gently as he turns your head to face him before his lips envelope yours in a kiss that has your toes curling. He kisses you sweetly with fervour, as though he is apologising for being a little rough on you. His hand is rubbing your thigh while the other wraps around your waist protectively.

“You did so well, lovely.” He purrs against your lips before resuming to kiss you ravenously, not having enough of the way you taste. Your heart flutters at his praise. He withdraws from your swollen lips before manhandling you again, and this time, he has you settled beneath him while he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder.

You watch with a fluttering heart as he presses a gentle kiss on your calf and returns his gaze to your face. “You should wear fishnet tights often. You look really good with them.” His sincerity does something to you, as it also distracts you from the familiar split-feeling of his cock breaching your cunt once more.

“But my thighs are thick. They look ugly on them.” You admit that your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment, but you notice how his eyes darken dangerously again.

“You’re perfect the way you are.” He says softly while his thrusts feel slow and deliberate, as though he is taking his time to savour the velvety walls engulfing him. “Don’t ever change yourself. You,” Thrust! “Are,” Thrust! “Fucking perfect.” Thrust!

Lust clouds your head once more while your breathing gets heavier with each passing second, but you feel the exertion of his previous fucks into you dawning on your body.

“Eyes on me.” He orders sternly, and with a weak moan at the way he drags his cock deliciously along your walls, you do. A smirk touches his lips before he snaps his hips against yours painfully. “Good fucking girl. My sweet angel, all for me to fuck and ruin.”

Your eyes roll to the back with your neck bare for his eyes to feast on before he leans down to kiss your neck sensually, licking your skin and leaving marks in his wake.

With your head turned sideways as he continues to fuck into you harder and assaults your neck with his kisses, something captures your attention that causes your eyes to widen. Thanks to the moonlight streaming into his window, you manage to catch a glimpse of a familiar red mask on his table.

The very same mask belongs to one of your predators on Devil’s Night.

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When the next day arrives, you remain in the state of your deep slumber, completely spent from last night, as your body aches tremendously and your thighs are sore from being smacked relentlessly.

You stir lightly in your sleep with your face contorting into confusion, but there is a jolting pleasure from your lower region. Your eyes remain closed behind your heavy eyelids, and as a soft moan leaves your lips, your hips automatically buck up, wanting to feel the delirious sensation of a wet muscle flickering your aching clit.

The last thing you remember is you coming undone for the ninth time and Jake carrying your half-conscious body into the bathroom after giving you the best fuck of your life that you will probably remember for the next few weeks.

You flutter your eyelids open, and the familiar sight of his white-painted ceiling greets you. With your naked form displayed on his bed, your nipples harden from the cold air conditioner and from the way a certain someone is lapping your slick cunt from below.

“Jaeyun.” You moan breathily, grinding your hips as he delves into your cunt before pulling back to spit on your clit and catching it with his tongue. Your hands fondle your boobs while you spread your legs widely for him, which has him humming as he suckles your clit.

He resumes lapping your slick cunt as though he is a hungry caveman, and you come sooner than you like, but your eyes widen in shock as he is unrelenting. His chin sheens with your essence, and by now, he is practically drooling all over your cunt.

The sight itself should feel disgusting to you, but you find yourself being enthralled by how hot he looks with half of his face sheens with your cum as soon as he pulls away.

His dark eyes meet yours as they swirl with lust and desire for you, and a smirk smears across his slightly swollen and moist lips. “Good afternoon, sweet angel.”

You marvel at the handsome sight of him in a black-fitting tee that accentuates the muscles on his body and the chain necklace hooked around his neck while his long, dishevelled strands hover over his forehead.

You don't mind waking up to this mouth-watering sight every day.

Before you can open your mouth with the intention to speak about him being one of your predators on Devil's Night, he silences you with his lips, locking yours in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

Your fingers find their way to tangle and tug at his soft strands, and your heart flutters as he chuckles breathily against your lips at how needy you are chasing him with his lips as though you are famished.

The sound of his ringtone shatters the heated moment between the two of you, causing him to groan against your lips. Without pulling away from the kiss, his hand reaches out to grab his phone at the side, and his finger presses on the accept button.

He pulls away from your lips just slightly to shift his attention on his phone and presses on speaker mode. “Fuck off, I’m busy.” Jake says to the caller on the line in a pissed-off tone, startling you by his change in demeanour.

“Okay, I see. This is how you repay us for cleaning up your mess.” Jungwon’s sarcasm is discernible.

“What do you want?” Jake asks him gruffly as he tilts your chin to face him once more for him to resume kissing you. You whimper as he playfully nips at your bottom lip before probing his tongue into your mouth while his hand is tweaking and pinching your nipple.

“Jaeyun.” You whisper his name against his lips, wanting to warn him about the obscene sound of your lips smacking against each other’s lips. It is noticeable for Jungwon to realise the reason why Jake is occupied.

But Jake doesn’t give a fuck. He continues to kiss you sloppily before trailing his kisses down to your chest, his hand fondling the plumpness of your boob while the other nipple is occupied with his lips and tongue licking and flickering the bud.

“Listen, I don’t really give a damn about what you and the others want to do, but try to be subtle. I’d hate for Wonyoung to complain and whine at me. Just for your information, she cares greatly for Y/N.”

Your ears perk up at the mention of your best friend and your name, but the curiosity that sparks earlier diminishes when Jake presses his clothed groin against your pussy before he slowly grinds on it.

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off. I’m very busy.” Jake dismisses Jungwon with a scowl, but as his eyes return to your dazed ones, he smirks down at you before grinding deliberately again, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“Seriously?” You hear the annoyance in Jungwon’s voice before the line goes off, allowing Jake to finally focus on you.

“You’re making me very hard, angel.” Jake groans, loving how your cunt is already leaking with the essence just by him grinding. “No one has ever made me hard the way you do, lovely.”

“I’m still sore, Jaeyun.” You mutter weakly, your lips forming into a small pout that entices him to kiss you, and he does.

"Mmhmm, I bet you are, baby.” He rasps against your lips, his tongue grazing across your bottom lip, while your fingers make their ascent to fiddle with his chain necklace hanging above your chest. “Want me to fuck you again?”

“N-No.” The hesitation in your shaky voice deepens his smirk.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you good?” He tugs and removes his black tee before tossing it aside. Your eyes feast greedily on his fine glory again, and this time, your fingers graze across his abdominal muscles to feel him while he watches you endearingly.

“I’m exhausted, Jaeyun.” You deliver another lie that contradicts your leaking cunt, which is in desperate need of being stuffed full by his cock.

“I’ll do all the work, baby.” Removing his last garment, his heavy cock slaps down on your wet folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. He leans to kiss you once more before murmuring sweetly as he slowly thrust into you, “Just lie down and take it like the good girl you are, sweet angel.”

Least to say that you have a hard time walking with your sore thighs aching tremendously by the time he’s done with you.

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After Jake had dropped you off at your dorm, the time struck nine p.m. Fortunately, you have no classes today or tomorrow, so you can take advantage of that to get ample rest.

Apparently, the two of you got caught up in the intense heat. You lost count of the amount of orgasm he managed to bring out of you. Jake fucked you on his bed, in the shower, and even in the kitchen, where you were searching for something to eat, but your hunger was forgotten the moment he seduced you with his dark allure and fucked you from behind.

Even after he had destroyed your pussy, each time he inserted his dick into you, your walls never failed to feel tight around him, as though they were too attached and never wanted to let go of him.

While waiting for the elevator to open, you look at your phone screen, where the camera shows your face. Your eyes widen in disbelief at the noticeable lines of hickeys on one side of your neck. Fresh, purple, and red hickeys.

Your cheeks flush in pink at the realisation that your first crush had stolen your virginity as you tuck your phone in the pocket of your pleated skirt.

Soon, a certain ambience of melancholy envelopes you. Despite him giving you the best fuck of your life, you can’t erase the image of him killing Simon with no remorse or whatsoever and their lifeless bodies in pools of blood. It was as though Jake had done this before with how he killed your bullies impeccably.

A part of you so badly wants to feel some form of sympathy, but instead, you feel like a weight is lifted off your shoulder, relieved by the fact that your three bullies won’t be bothering you ever again. You know that killing is a heinous act and sinful, but you can’t deny the fact that there is a tinge of gratitude in you for Jake.

You release a deep sigh before stepping out of the elevator to head in the direction of your dorm, and subsequently, you feel dreadful about facing your best friends, but you know you can’t hide from them forever.

Speaking of friends, your eyes widen in realisation as you have yet to reply to Winter. You whip out your phone again.

Y/N: Come over tomorrow, and then I’ll tell you.

Just as you shove your phone into your pocket, you stop in front of the door before mustering courage and proceeding to enter with tense shoulders. When you venture further, the sight that beholds you causes your eyebrow to raise.

Wonyoung has her head resting on Jungwon’s thigh, her gaze is trained on the animated television. Jungwon is leaning against the couch comfortably, his hand is occupied with his phone while the other is absentmindedly running his fingers through her soft locks, but his face is tinged with apparent boredom. Neither of them seem to realise your presence by the living, and you grasp the opportunity to stealthily trace your way to your bedroom.

You have been holding back a scoff since the moment you saw them all so comfortable with each other. You can’t help but feel the slightest resentment towards Wonyoung, who has always been adamantly insistent on refusing to affiliate herself with any of the knights.

As soon as you enter your room and close the door quietly, you proceed to take a quick shower, scrubbing every inch of your body. No matter how many scrubs you do, you swear you can feel the heat of his touch on your skin that remains lingering, even after you step out of the shower, all fresh and anew.

Feeling the exertion once more, you waste no time bringing yourself to your inviting bed that you have missed dearly before throwing yourself on the mattress, your face planting down on your pillow.

Just when you are about to snuggle into your fleecy pillow, a knock startles you. Whoever is at the door surely must have seen the lights beneath the space of your door.

“I know you’re in there, Y/N.” Wonyoung’s voice elicits a groan from you. “I’m coming in.”

You silently berate yourself for not locking the door earlier. As she pushes open the door, you turn away from her, attempting to hide your hickeys from her sight.

You hear the frustration in her sigh. “We really need to talk.”

“Has Jungwon left yet?” You ask curtly, your back is facing her as you fiddle with your soft toy. “What was he even doing here anyway? He’s your boyfriend or something?”

There are a couple beats of silence from her before she speaks in a wavering tone. “None of your business. We’re not here to talk about him. We’re here to talk about your disappearance since last night. Where were you?”

You scoff lightly as you stop your fingers from fiddling with your soft toy. “None of your business.” You use her words against her.

“Can you look at me when I’m speaking to you?” Though it is meant to be a question, the way she asks feels demanding, bringing a frown to your lips.

“Can you get out of my room?”

“For God’s sake, Y/N Kang─” Wonyoung stops mid-sentence at the moment you finally turn around to display your annoyance for her. Her sharp gaze immediately spots the lines of hickeys decorating your dainty neck. “What the hell, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrow at the near judgement in her tone. “I’m really tired, Wonyoung. We can talk some other time─”

“Who did you sleep with?” Wonyoung cuts you sharply, causing you to flinch lightly with her tone. “Who the hell did you sleep with last night, Y/N Kang? Was it one of the knights?”

It is as though there is a switch in your behaviour as you begin to lash out at her. “Fine, you really want to know? I slept with Sim Jaeyun.” Your declaration earns a shocking gasp from her, and it appears the volume of your voice attracts your other roommates’ attention as they emerge from behind Wonyoung.

“Our Y/N did what now?” Karina asks, her eyes bulging as she peeks her head over Wonyoung’s shoulder to stare at you.

“You’re bluffing.” Yunjin scoffs in disbelief, refusing to believe that you, a literal saint, have slept with one of the knights’ leaders.

“Believe what you want, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I still slept with him.”

“And you’re proud of that?” Wonyoung gives you an incredulous glare. “Y/N, we’ve told you countless times to stay away from any of them! Especially their leaders! What even spurred you to sleep with Jake Sim?!”

“Does it ever occur to you that I have needs just as the rest of you do?” You say tersely, hating the visible judgement in their eyes. “Don’t be a hypocrite when you girls are affiliating yourself with the same bunch of delinquents that you have been warning me to stay away from.”

“That’s because you’re different!” Wonyoung retorts harshly. “Because you’re not─”

“I’m not like you girls, is that what you were about to say?” You release a derisive laugh that sounds foreign to your ears. You clench a fist. “Was that why you girls befriended me in the first place? Because you pitied me and took me in so others could have some laughs and belittle me for becoming part of your cliques when I didn’t even seem fitting in to them.”

“You’ve misunderstood, Y/N.” Yunjin steps forward, and her once serious gaze softens. “We didn’t want you to become fucked up like us.”

“You can’t fool me.” You shake your head. “If anything, you girls seem perfectly fine.”

“You’re wrong. We’ve been keeping that side of us from you because we didn’t want for you to be affected and drained.” Karina offers you a weak smile. “It’s also the reason why I broke up with him — because he’s a knight. But despite breaking up with him two years ago, it resulted in me becoming mentally unstable.”

“Once you’re deeply involved with any of them, there is no way out.” Yunjin tells you, her tone sounds as grave as Karina’s. A bitter chuckle leaves her lips. “Look at me. I’m still pathetically clinging to the hope that Yeonjun will reciprocate my feelings.”

Your frown deepens, and at the same time, your mind clicks upon finally realising who Yunjin had fucked with on Devil’s Night. “You and Yeonjun were together this whole time?”

Yunjin smiles weakly. “It’s complicated because I’m not even certain of what to label us. Friends with benefits, situationship or whatever But the main thing is that being deeply involved with any of them will take a huge toll on your mental health.”

“Jungwon and I are not in a relationship.” Wonyoung finds herself confessing after contemplating for a few minutes. “In a way, my situation is similar to Yunjin. It’s a constant push and pull. Some days he seems to want me, while other days he acts like he hates me as if I’m a parasite.”

You bask in silence as you allow their words to soak into your muddling mind. To finally know of your best friends’ being affiliated with the knights has you resenting them a little for keeping you in the dark, because Karina doesn’t seem surprised at all upon their revelation. You begin to ponder if your other friends know about this or if they themselves are involved with the knights as well.

Maybe because you’re exhausted and want nothing more than to bury yourself into the pillow, but you really want to get this over with. You sigh. “Then why didn’t you girls just leave? If they don’t want you, shouldn’t that make things easier for you to leave them since they have also given you reasons why you deserve better?” You ask gently upon noticing the vulnerability shining in Yunjin and Wonyoung’s eyes.

“Like Yunjin said, it’s complicated, but at the end of the day, I know that I’m madly in love with him.” Wonyoung gives you a tight smile. “You’ll probably understand it sooner since you’ve begun becoming close to Jake.”

“We really didn’t want this for you and for you to end up like us, but you have free will, so we’re no longer going to decide things for you.” Yunjin says firmly before retreating to her room.

“It may get addictive at first, but trust me when I say you’ll be regretting it.” Wonyoung warns you. “Once things get badly fucked up, I’m not going to be there to comfort you since you should’ve known better.”

With Wonyoung’s one last look into your eyes, your heart slowly breaks into pieces as you can feel the last few strings that are holding your friendship together threaten to snap, and you know that things between you and Wonyoung will never be the same.

“Just a word of advice to be wary of Jake if you have plans on pursuing him.” Karina’s voice draws your attention to her, and you find her leaning sideways against the door with her arms folded across her chest. “I’ve heard some nasty things about him, but the worst of all is that he has a tendency to love-bomb girls.”

Before you can even ask for her to elaborate, Karina proceeds to head to her room, leaving you alone with your muddled mind. A part of you refuses to believe that Jake Sim is not as bad as your best friends described him. You have an inkling of what love-bombing is since Winter and Liz have talked about it. 

In denial, you grab your phone to send him a text, still motivated and refusing to believe your best friends.

Y/N: Hey, Jaeyun. Do you have any plans for tomorrow?”

JAEYUN: I’m surprised you texted me first. Already missing me, lovely? :) 

Y/N: If I say I do?

JAEYUN: Don’t tempt me into coming over to your place, lovely, because I'm this close. To answer your question, I’ll be hanging out with the guys, so I’ll see you around campus on Thursday.

As you and Jake continue the conversation, giggles occasionally emit from you, making you feel giddy just by texting him alone and him flirting with you through the text. Your best friends are wrong about him. Even you can tell how eager and attentive he is through his texts alone.

WINTER: I have some tea to spill.

Y/N: What is it? I’m missing out on a good joke made by Jaeyun.

WINTER:.....girl, as much as I would love to ship the two of you (because, trust me, y’all look so good with each other), Jake is actually an asshole. I’ll explain whenever we meet since I can't come to meet you tomorrow.

Your curiosity just grows tenfold, and you need to learn more about why she claimed that Jake is an asshole. The same Jake Sim, whose eyes are filled with kindness whenever he stares into yours, whose cheeky grin adorns his charming countenance that never fails to make your heart go fluttery.

Your attention is pulled by another text from Winter.

WINTER: You know what? I’m just going to tell you half of the tea here instead. I collected some information from two girls he slept with before. They warned about getting close to him, especially after fucking him, because he’d only lead you on, and once you fell for his trap, that’s when he’d completely ghost you. Essentially, love bombing you.

Y/N: I don’t get it. Karina told me the same thing, but you girls don’t know him like I do.

WINTER: Babe, you’ve just met him and got closer not too long ago. You should leave him before he leaves you instead. Do you know that word has it: he is clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder? It makes perfect sense why he is the way he is.

Y/N: I don’t care what you all have to say, but I’m not gonna leave him.

You release an angry huff as you shut your phone before deciding to lie down on the bed. You hate how they all seem so adamantly insistent on trying to get you to leave Jake.

There is no denying that you are already emotionally attached to Sim Jaeyun, so you couldn’t help but defend him, but what struck you deeply was his kindness during your very first meeting with him. You recall his kind gaze and mirthful grin on his countenance when you first conversed with each other, and the sincerity in his tone when he wished you the best throughout your time in Crestview Meadows.

No, the Sim Jaeyun you know is not an asshole.

The familiar ringtone of your phone disrupts your train of thought. You lazily reach out to grab your phone, and when you see the ID caller on the screen, the frown on your lips transitions into a smile before you keenly accept his call and press your phone against your ear.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were okay.” Jake’s husky voice through your phone alone manages to send the familiar flutters to your heart. “You didn’t reply to my last text.”

“I’m fine, Jaeyun.” You tell him, your voice coming out soft. “I’m just tired. By the way, I forgot to thank you for the aftercare.”

“Anytime, Y/N. Besides, there is no way I would leave my girl just like that.” His breathy chuckles cause your smile to widen.

“Your girl?” You ask, playfulness tinges your voice.

Jake hums attractively. “That’s right. You’re my girl, Y/N.” You detect something dark and dangerous that belies his tone. “Get more sleep, yeah? I don’t want my girl to wake up completely lethargic tomorrow.”

“Okay, Jaeyun.” Little do you know that your obedience draws a wicked smirk on his lips.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Two days have passed since you ever had a proper conversation with your other three roommates, but it was mostly you avoiding them. As for Winter, she remains the same, but the judgement in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by you when you hung out with her yesterday with Rei, Kazuha, and Giselle.

You have been ignoring the small voice in the back of your mind telling you that it isn’t worth it to strain your friendship with them for a man. 

They were wrong about Jake. Even when the next day arrived, he never failed to greet you through his texts and occasionally flirted with you, but you could see that he wanted to continue the conversation with you.

But the odd thing is, he hasn’t been replying to your texts since this morning. You tried calling him once, but it went into voicemail. All the while, your stomach churns with uneasiness.

Now you’re in quite a dilemma. What is your relationship with him? Are you his friends with benefits? Does he see you the way you see him? Does he want you the way you want him to?

Hence, you decide to put an end to all of these questions jumbling your mind by going on a little adventure to find Jake in the science, technological, and engineering building. Your keen eyes dart everywhere, looking for a certain male with long hair strands that you wish to skim your fingers through again.

Annoyance bubbles within you before you decide to muster courage and ask a familiar knight member strolling in your vicinity.

“Have you seen Jake?” You ask him, and your question has him raising his eyebrow.

His eyes scrutinise you for a minute. “He’s in our main quarter.” To your surprise, he nudges his head, beckoning you to follow him, and you do.

The way to the devil’s knights’ main quarter is confusing, but thankfully, it doesn’t take you more than fifteen minutes to reach.

“You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon aren’t inside, or you’ll probably get kicked out by them.” He murmurs to you before opening the door for you.

You cast him a kind smile that caught him off guard. “Thanks, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu blinks his eyes, faltering at the sight of your smile. “Uhh, you’re welcome?”

You look away from him and proceed to enter. Your jaw goes unhinged at how palatial their main quarter is, and it even consists of two floors. You spot a few knight members on the second floor, and your presence draws their attention to you, but your gaze is fixed intently on a certain someone who is capable of making your heart all fluttery.

But this time, your heart has a discernible crack. There is Jake, seated on the couch and in a heated lip-lock with a girl you don’t recognise. His hands are roaming around her body, reminding you of when he touched you like that. The sound of their lips smacking against each other seems to break your heart piece by piece.

“Y/N, did you find him?” Beomgyu’s voice can be heard from behind, but you are too busy reeling in heartbreak.

It appears that the volume of Beomgyu’s voice manages to reach Jake's ears as the latter pulls away from the kiss, and when his eyes lock with yours at the instant, your heart breaks even more at the lust glinting in his eyes that is meant for the girl in his possession.

“Jaeyun.” You utter his name numbly, and naturally, you expect him to panic and rush over to you to explain, but instead, a cold smirk is drawn on his swollen pink lips.

“What is she doing here, babe?” The girl on his lap glares at you, her lips curling into a sneer as she scans you from head to toe. The distaste is apparent in her gaze.

“How could you?” You manage to find your voice, but it comes out shaky as you refrain from getting emotional.

“How could I what?” His voice holds zero affection for you, and as you stare at him with glistening eyes, he looks entirely different from the Jake you know. His smirk persists while his eyes are filled with an unfamiliar coldness.

You hate how he is staring at you indifferently. It's like he's a stranger.

“I thought I meant something to you.” You say, and a painful lump is stuck in your throat. “I thought we had something─”

“Don’t be delusional, Y/N. Just because we fucked, you thought you meant something to me?” Jake’s cold chuckles sound foreign to you. He continues to gaze at you dangerously cold while his hand is stroking the girl’s waist, causing your tears to finally leak from your eyes. “You’re nothing special, Y/N. Besides, you’re not even close to being my type.”

“What is wrong with you?” You step forward as you clench a fist. “You’re not like this. You’re acting like a complete jerk now.”

Something dark and twisted lurks behind his eyes that you once loved to gaze at. “I told you before that you have no idea who I really am. Now get out and don’t forget to close the door, yeah?”

“Screw you.” You don’t even have time to be surprised by the hatred in your tone as you immediately dash out of their quarter, ignoring Beomgyu’s calling for you.

A sob is threatening to escape from you as more tears stream down your cheeks. The knights in your vicinity shoot you odd looks, but you are too distraught by your newfound heartbreak.

You thought you had something with him, especially when the two of you spent all night talking, texting, and flirting over the phone. You thought you were his girl.

You should have known that, at the end of the day, his playboy tendencies persist and that he will always be a womaniser. You should have listened to your best friends who did warn you, but just like Jake said earlier, you’re delusional.

Amidst the sadness, you wallow in self-hatred. Hatred for falling into his schemes and for allowing him to take away your virginity.

Your shoulder accidentally bumps into a figure, and just as you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm firmly, prompting you to turn your head to look at him through your tearful eyes, your vision blurring with each blink.

“What are you doing here by our quarter?” Sunghoon’s cold voice doesn’t even deter you, as does the clear distaste in his expression towards you. But the moment he sees your eyes red and slightly swollen from the crying, something stirs within him that feels foreign. It almost feels like he feels sympathetic for you.

“What happened?” He finds himself asking this, and he has no idea why. His grip on your arm becomes tight.

“Don’t act like you care.” You sniffle, refraining from ugly sobbing in front of the very person who hates your guts. Once his grip feels loose, you yank your arm from his grasp and flee the knights’ territory, leaving Sunghoon curious about what happened to you.

As for you, your guilty conscience is gnawing at you to seek forgiveness once more, and when the next day arrives, you find yourself entering the familiar church with bloodshot eyes, an obvious sign that you had been crying all night.

Your best friends were right. The Sim Jaeyun you know now is, in fact, an asshole.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin  @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz

[heytheredelulu]

I was wondering if you could do maybe a like feral Bucky? Like maybe they trigger the soldat and instead of him fallowing their orders he goes after the shy curvy little intern of Tony’s? They’ve both been too shy to make a move. I’m cool with whatever spin you put on it, I LOVE your writing.

(Love all your normal kinks so feel free to add those too as you see fit! )

Thank you lovely 🥰 Can’t wait to drool over more of your writing lol

I took this and RAN with it.

It ended up becoming much longer than I had anticipated so this one will be broken up into two parts.

I struggled with trying to incorporate Bucky being triggered after the reader already being somewhat aquatinted with him, pining after him, etc. so I went the route I did and I hope it fulfills your request!

Part one will be mostly just plot building with a spicy cliff hanger leading us into a part two of pure smut.

Ready to Comply - Part One - Anon Request

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

ALL OF MY WORK IS 18+

Word Count: 2.5k

C/W: Language, discussion/implications of violence and murder, choking, blood (Bucky is strugglin’ and bites his own hand), a lil sexual tension in prep for part two, he sniffs her coochie, okay?

“Okay, stop. Stop that.” Tony whispered out of the corner of his mouth. You shot him a glance and tugged at your skirt one more time for good measure. He lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “You look fine, Rookie. Very professional. Is that what you needed to hear?”

You scoff and shake your head. “That’s no- I’m not fishing for compliments, I genuinely hate dressing like a fucking secretary.” You grumble, drawing a laugh out of Tony. “And don’t call me ‘Rookie.’” You add with a prod to his chest. He brushes the front of his suit jacket sarcastically in response to your poke and raises his hands defensively, a soft chuckle rising from his throat.

“A fucking secretary? Really? It’s business professional. Did you think I could let you stand next to me in a press conference wearing an old t-shirt and some torn up jeans? We need to create a semblance of professionalism.” He gestures to his own attire with a grin and there’s a teasing glint in his eye as he continues.

“And what’s wrong with ‘Rookie’? You’re my little protégé.” He jests, reaching like he’s going to pinch your cheek as if you were some adorable little toddler. You frown, swatting his hand away and brings it to his chest, clutching it dramatically. “Wow, you’re going to assault your friend, mentor and extremely rich and handsome boss?” He jokes, feigning offense.

“The only accurate adjective in that sentence is ‘boss’, Sir.” You reply dryly, crossing your arms. The corners of his lips twitch into a sly smile and he nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll accept if you don’t agree with friend and mentor.” He starts, pressing his lips into a pout. “But I might actually get a little offended if you refuse to acknowledge how devastatingly handsome I am.”

You groan in annoyance and roll your eyes, preparing a witty comeback when Pepper Potts rounds the corner with a tablet cradled in her arm, a phone nestled between her ear and shoulder and an expression of concern written across her face.

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me.. another offer for People’s ‘sexiest man alive’? I keep telling them, I can’t be on the cover every ye-“ Tony stops mid sentence as Pepper’s manicured forefinger lands on his lips, effectively silencing him.

“Yes. Okay. Understood. Thank you.” She says curtly into the phone before disconnecting the call. “That was Fury. We have an issue. A Barnes issue.”

Your brows furrow at this. “What’s happened with Bucky?” You ask, a sense of dread creeping up your spine. He’d been all but isolated since he’d moved into the Avenger’s tower alongside his best friend Steve Rogers and you couldn’t imagine him being the source of an issue with how reserved this man was. You weren’t at all oblivious to his past- it had been global wide news after all, but in the months since his de-conditioning in Wakanda he had been making great strides towards recovery, working to make amends.

Though your interactions with the ex-assassin had been few, he’d always been polite and kind towards you. You’d felt so out of place among the Avengers, being Tony’s intern. You weren’t on the team, hell, a few of them didn’t even know your name despite you having been trailing behind Tony for the last year. Maybe it was your own fault, considering you hadn’t really made an effort to talk to any of them but aside from the fact that they were all extremely intimidating, you were naturally a shy and quiet person.

You quickly push the self deprecating thoughts from your head. You didn’t care about any of that. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t as if you wanted to be on the team, or were there to make friends, you were here as an engineer, to learn from who was arguably the most intelligent man on the planet. Perhaps that’s why Bucky had always been cordial to you more than some of the others living here. Maybe he gravitated towards you, as someone who constantly felt so out of place, because he felt that way here as well.

Or maybe he thought you were cute.

Oh fuck, if only.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to the man or that you’d been quietly crushing on him practically since you’d started your internship. Every small interaction with Bucky left a blush on your cheeks and a kaleidoscope of butterflies flitting about your belly.

The thought of someone as absurdly good looking as Bucky fucking Barnes finding you attractive was enough to spark a surge of heat straight to your abdomen.

No, get it together. Now’s not the time.

You mentally scold your vagina for having the nerve to throb at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes regardless of the context and turn your attention back to Pepper and Tony as they argued in hushed whispers.

“What’s happened with Bucky?” You repeat, knowing they likely won’t clue you in if it’s related to Avenger’s business.

Tony offers a nervous smile and exchanges a quick glance with his wife before he checks his watch. “Terminator? He’s fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably holed up with security for setting off the metal detector.” He pauses and then snaps his fingers. “Or maybe he walked past the junkyard on fifth and got snatched up by the hydraulic magnet.” He says, lifting a hand and miming a crane.

Pepper lets out a soft sigh and your gaze flicks to her. “Yeah, a big magnet or something.” She mumbles, turning her attention back to her tablet. “I don’t think that’s-“ Your cut off by Tony’s hand on the small of your back, urging you forward. “Enough about Robocop. We’re on, Rookie.” He says, his nervous expression falling away and quickly being replaced with a mask of professionalism. “Let’s go unveil our project to the press.” Pepper moves to open the door for you both and before you can open your mouth to tell Tony that if he calls you ‘rookie’ one more time you were going to strangle him with his overpriced tie, your senses are overwhelmed with an onslaught of overlapping voices and camera shutters.

You toss your blazer over the desk in your quaint office and slump over into the chair, trying not to let your mind run wild with anxious thoughts about the press conference. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t help but worry that you probably looked like a deer in headlights up at the podium alongside Tony.

You huff and rest your chin on the back of your hand, glancing over at the computer screens. Your attention is immediately drawn to security footage from one of the conference rooms when you see movement on the monitor. You lean in with your brows furrowed. It’s late and no one should be in the conference room. You expand the image and can clearly make out Tony and Steve moving about the room with tense body language.

You hover over the footage with your mouse and hesitate. You know that you absolutely should not eavesdrop on the two men but once Tony’s hands begin angrily gesturing around you give in to temptation and turn on the audio.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘back up?’” Tony shouts, beginning to pace the room.

Steve leans forward with his palms on the table and his head bowed slightly. “It’s exactly what I said, Tony.” He replies, his biceps flexing as he grips the table. “HYDRA had a fail safe. They’d planted a back up activation incase he would ever manage to be deprogrammed.” He looks up at Tony with a solemn expression. “They got to him. I should’ve been there, I should’ve-“

Tony holds out a hand, his other resting against his temple as he tries to comprehend what Steve is telling him. “Well you weren’t and they did so know we have to figure out how the fuck we navigate this.” He says firmly, shaking his head. “Do we have eyes on him? Is he in the building?”

Steve sighed and stood upright from the table. “No. He’s in the wind. We lost contact with him a few hours ago.” He admits, running a hand through his hair. “But there’s something you need to know.” He adds, looking at Tony with concern as he begins to pace again.

“Well spit it out, Rogers!” Tony yells, stopping and turning back to Steve.

“Nat received some intel. The hit HYDRA ordered is on you and your intern.” He says so quietly you can barely pick it up on the audio. Fear crawls up your spine and your hand trembles as you increase the volume on the security feed, while your heartbeat in your ears becomes near deafening.

Tony stiffens, slowly approaching Steve. “You wanna tell me why?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous. Steve nods. “The new tech you unveiled today.“ He explains.

Tony sighs, understanding why one of their enemies would be threatened by what the two of you had been working on and reaches to loosen his tie. “I’ll take Pepper and move her to the safe house before I meet you at a rendezvous point. Send someone to get my Rookie and get her off the grid. I don’t want her alone for a single second.” He says in an exasperated tone, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out his cell phone as he stalks towards the door.

“And Rogers?” He asks, turning around one last time, his hand curled tight around the doorknob. Steve’s head snaps up and he looks at Tony with guilt ridden eyes. “Yeah?”

“Find Barnes.”

Find Barnes.

The statement echoes in your ears, sending your thoughts spinning as if a category five hurricane were waging inside your head.

No. No, no, no.

There’s a hit out on you?

To be carried out by the fucking Winter Soldier.

Oh you were so fucked.

You scoot your chair back, bracing your hands on the desk to stand with wobbly knees.

Bile rises in your throat as you take a slow step backwards, bumping the chair in your state of panic and knocking your jacket off the workbench. You jump at the sound of it slipping to the floor and clutch your chest as a result of inducing your own jumpscare and take slow breaths to steel your nerves before you bend down to pick it up. As you rise back upright, your gaze connects with a pair of vacant, icy blue eyes in the shadows across the room and your entire body seizes in terror.

He’s not in the wind.

He’s been in here with you this entire goddamned time.

“B-Bucky?” You stutter, bringing your jacket to your chest and grasping it until your knuckles turn white. Maybe Steve and Tony were wrong. Maybe Nat’s intel was wrong. Maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding and you weren’t about to die at the hands of the ex-assassin you’ve been pining over for nearly a year.

He takes a step forward from the shadows, his face expressionless and his eyes unblinking without a single trace of emotion behind them.

Okay, yeah. You’re fucked.

“Sergeant Barnes?” You whisper, almost a plea to the man you knew, locked away somewhere in the brain of the cold and calculated killer standing in front of you.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t register your words, as he crosses the lab in a few quick strides and catches your throat in his cybernetic hand.

Oh god.

The air leaves your lungs, his grip tightening around your windpipe as his face remains blank.

You’re going to die.

So why are you so fucking turned on?

Heat pools low in your abdomen, your core flooding with arousal, coupled with fear and unbridled lust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as you gasp and thrash in his grip, your thick thighs rubbing together with every kick and flail, doing nothing to alleviate the throbbing ache in your cunt.

God this is so wrong.

His brows furrow, the first hint of emotion since he stepped out of the shadows. His head tilts inquisitively and his grip slackens around your throat as he leans in, tracing his nose across your jaw line and inhaling deeply. You still, your face contorting in confusion as you swallow hard against his palm, leaning your body into his hold.

His eyes narrow as he pulls away from you and you take the opportunity to suck in a breath, massaging your neck gently while your gaze drops to observe his hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his sides.

“Bucky?” You ask, wondering what’s caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, wondering if maybe he’s somehow snapped out of the trance he’d been in. He’s still and silent for a long moment, his head bowed as his chest rises and falls heavily with every breath.

“Sergeant Barnes, are yo-“

His head snaps up, effectively silencing you.

Your mouth remains agape, stuck on your last word and as he watches you with predatory eyes, taking menacing steps toward you, you can’t seem to find your voice any longer. You stumble backwards, losing your balance and falling back against the desk, unable to regain your footing before his hands grip the flesh of your bare thighs.

He tilts you backwards, your back colliding hard with the surface of the desk, stealing the breath out of your chest. He drops to his knees, splaying his palms against your thighs, the hem of your dress rising up to expose your panties as he spreads your legs wide before him and drags his nose across the fabric.

He groans.

He fucking groans.

“You’re my mission.” He breathes out, eyes wild and fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as if he were fighting to physically restrain himself.

“I know.” You whimper, lifting your head to look down at him over the soft curve of your stomach.

“I’ve been ordered to kill you.” He chokes out, pressing his forehead against your inner thigh and drawing in a deep and shuddering breath.

“Then why haven’t you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

He turns his head and mumbles something incoherently, his breath ghosting against the damp fabric of your underwear and sending a wave of arousal crashing through your core. He stiffens, curling his flesh hand into a fist and bringing it to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles as he swallows back a moan.

He shakes his head, his teeth pressing into his skin hard enough to draw blood and you move to sit up, leaning on your palms as you look down at him where he’s slotted between your legs, visibly trembling.

He rises quickly to his feet, his left hand shooting out to curl around your neck again and he drops his bloodied flesh hand to his side.

“Because..” He says through clenched teeth, inhaling sharply as the cool metal of his thumb strokes the column of your throat.

“I can’t fucking focus when all I can smell-“

His free hand roughly cups your pussy over your panties, his voice trailing off as he kneads his palm against the thin, wet fabric.

He growls, tightening his grip around your throat and jerking you up to him, forcing you to meet his threatening gaze.

His expression grows pained and he whimpers, dipping his head to meet your forehead with his own, his breath fanning across your face with every heave of his chest.

“All I can smell is how wet you are.”

Taglist (Taglist is open):

@suz7days @blackbirdwitch22 @truthfulliarr @lilacka

Part two

[onlymingyus]

Shut Up

pairing; wen junhui x f reader (ft. xu minghao)

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

summary; You think you know about the world around you, but one day you find out you don't know anything. When you start to fall about it's your boss Wen Junhui who picks up the pieces and keeps you safe. 

content warnings; a lot of dark themes including: sexual assault, murder, guns, knives, beating, fighting, selling of guns, selling/using drugs, alcohol/eating, crying and dealing with trauma, mild dubcon. mob boss!junhui, second in command!minghao, security!mingyu, assistant!reader.

smut warnings; hard mean dom!junhui, sub!reader, dom!minhao. unprotected/protected sex, creampie, threesome, multiple sex scenes, rough sex, impact play, degrading, pet names, degrading names, dumbfication/objectfication to a degree, hand job, fingering, oral (m&f receiving & giving), crying/dacryphilia, innocence kink (no explicitly said), breast play, body worship. I am very certain I have left something out.

w/c; 35.9k and some change | read the 900 bonus on my patreon

a/n; this fic is for my @onlyhuis. thank you for not only editing this for me but supporting me every single word along the way. i hope you enjoy this one so so much my little huihui. with that said -- this fic is VERY dark and could be a lot for some of you to read. please be sure to read the warnings before reading so that you are prepared for what you are reading.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“I literally don’t give a fuck. Get his ass out of my sight.” 

Your brows raise as you look down at the tablet in your arms when the sound of your boss's voice rings through the bar. Someone had pissed him off and you were just happy it wasn’t you this time. Wen Junhui was an important man to a lot of people and for a lot of reasons, most of those reasons you chose to ignore and just do your job. 

There were a lot of things in your job that you had to ignore in order to keep it. Things like money appearing in large quantities with little to no explanation and meeting someone only to never see them again after they opened their mouth just a little too much. 

Glancing towards Jun’s office, you watch as one such man is being pulled out by Xu Minghao, Jun’s second in command. You meet the desperate man’s eyes only briefly before dropping yours, but it’s enough to give him hope as he pulls against Minghao’s arms, trying to move back towards the bar where you were standing. 

“Hey! Hey, lady, pretty lady! I'm in here all the time. You ‘member me right?” 

Scoffing, Minghao shakes his head, nodding towards security at the front door for help. You watch under lowered lashes as Kim Mingyu takes one of the man’s arms, helping Minghao drag him towards the exit as he continues to ask you for help.

“I had the fuckin’ money! This is bullshit!” 

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding when Minghao walked back through the door, letting Mingyu shut it behind them. Wiping his hands off on the front of his shirt, the man lifts his eyebrows at you as you try to look busy with your previous task.

“You’ve been told not to look at trash when I’m taking it out. You don’t remember things very well to be so pretty, Y/N.” 

Sighing, you finally meet Minghao’s eyes as he leans against the bar in front of you. You knew what you had been told; it was just that it was easier said than done to ignore something kicking and screaming as they were being dragged out of a building. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone to the back when I heard Mr. Wen ye–express his displeasure.” 

You watch as a smirk pulls at one side of Minghao’s lips when you correct how you talk about your boss and his best friend. He had a soft spot for you and he knew you were doing your best. 

“‘Least you know what you should've done.” 

“Hao!” 

Looking back towards Jun’s office when his name is called, Minghao purses his lips and pats the bar with his hand before giving you one more lingering look. You watch him until he disappears into your boss’s office and the door is left cracked so that only a low conversation can be heard. 

You spent most of your days and nights at Moonlight Lounge. Since you had been introduced to Jun and taken on the unique position of his personal assistant, your life had changed dramatically. You were in charge of managing most of his personal accounts—but never his business accounts—and you were the one who kept his schedule to the minute. 

“Y/N!” 

Hearing your name being yelled by Jun wasn’t an unusual occurrence but he didn’t sound pleased, though that wasn’t a new fact either. You weren’t friends with your boss and you weren’t sure if you ever would be. 

Holding the tablet closer to your chest, you glance towards Mingyu, who grimaces at how your name was said before turning away as you turn towards the office door. Everyone knew that one moment could make or break how your day was going to go at the lounge, and you had caused more of a disturbance by looking at the man as he had been dragged out. 

Knocking on the door, you slip inside, feeling two sets of eyes on you as Minghao sits against a sidebar console on the right of Jun’s desk and Jun himself sits behind the large desk with a frown on his face. Lifting your eyes you try to skirt around Jun’s eyes but the man leans his head to catch your gaze before sighing and pushing his tongue into his cheek.

“Sit down. Jesus Christ…”

He was in a mood and there was nothing you could do to change it. Slipping into the leather chair, you clear your throat and rest your tablet on your lap, straightening your spine so that you feel taller and less small under Jun’s gaze. Lifting his hand, he pushes his glasses up his nose before reaching for the tumbler of whiskey in front of him, taking a sip and sitting it down hard. 

“Tonight we have some important guests coming to the lounge. I want to make sure we have some of the girls prepared to serve them but I want you to steer clear of that section.”  

Furrowing your brows, you give him a confused look when he doesn’t yell at you for what happened but instead goes to your task for the night. Glancing towards Minghao, you slide the pen from your tablet and stutter for a moment before opening the notepad to take notes. 

“I–wh–oh…sure. Do I know who the guests are? So that I can tell them? And so that I can make sure there are adequate refreshments for their visit.” 

Jun narrows his eyes at you before letting them move along your frame appraisingly as you switch into assistant mode and out of scared little kitten mode. You were stunning and when you wanted to be, you could be fierce. You had shown it on more than one occasion but Jun still had an urge to keep a close eye on you, like he did anything else that belonged to him. 

“They are…” Smirking, Jun looks over to Minghao, lifting his hands in a question before sighing. “Competition and nothing more, darling. Don’t give them top shelf; we don’t serve that to those who don’t deserve it.” 

Swallowing hard at the pet name, you make some limited notes as Jun watches you carefully. It wasn’t the first time he had called you darling or some other variation of a pet name, but it still made you nervous every single time. Rolling his eyes, Minghao crosses his arms and leans his head back as he watches Jun stare at you. He knew exactly what he was doing, even if you didn’t. 

“I think that handles everything. Make sure they are happy, but not too happy. I want them to be jealous of what they can’t achieve. You get what I’m saying?” 

Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, making Jun tilt his head as he watches intently. You mutter to yourself, writing down a few of the waitress's names along with your suggestions for how the guests should be handled before looking up to meet Jun’s eyes and feeling your cheeks burn at how he is looking at you. 

“Uh, yeah, I mean, yes, sir, Mr. Wen. I’ll take care of everything.” 

Gesturing towards the door, Jun smirks as you pop up out of your seat quickly, ready to leave. He knew he was intense and he knew you were crumbling under him. He wanted you under him in more ways than one, but he had patience and an inkling of respect about him. 

“Good girl. I’ll see you tonight then.”

Counting the bottles of alcohol as they are loaded onto the tray, you shake your head, reaching for one as one of the waitresses passes by you. 

“I told you, Mr. Wen said, ‘no top shelf’.” 

Stopping, the girl gives you a nervous look as she glances from you towards the VIP section that she had been tasked with by you. You could hear the loud laughter of the men over the music coming from the lounge, even from where you stood at the bar. 

“I know, it’s just—they asked for it. They kinda scare me, Y/N. Can’t I just give them that bottle?” 

Looking at the bottle of expensive vodka in your hand, you narrow your eyes at where you knew the men were before rolling your eyes at the girl’s words. It wasn’t her fault. Most of the clientele at the Moonlight Lounge could be rough around the edges but it seemed this particular group was even worse. 

You could hear Jun’s voice echoing in your head as you put the bottle behind the bar and took the tray from the younger girl, making her whisper a small thank you in return. You knew you were going against what you had been told to do, the rules, and your better judgment… but it was better you than some helpless waitress. 

Luckily, you had dressed for the night. Donning a tight black turtleneck sleeveless dress that ended at your thighs, your thigh high boots finished off your outfit, making you look classy enough to pass as management. Swallowing hard, you put on your best face as you approach the curved booth, seeing a group of three unfamiliar men. You could tell they at least felt important and had some money to their name from the amount on the table, the baggies of white powder, and gold on their fingers. 

“Your drinks, gentlemen.” 

Putting the tray down on the table, you can feel as the man to your right leans out to examine you from head to toe. There was no mistaking what he was looking at or how he was looking at you like a piece of meat as the other two laughed before reaching for the various bottles of booze in front of them. 

“Hey, hey…nah, sweetheart. We ordered Beluga vodka, not this rubbing alcohol shit.” 

Stepping back from the table, you try to stay out of reach of the man’s grasp, causing all three of the men to scoff at your reaction. 

“Mm, I’m aware of your order... Mr. —?” 

“You can just call me Sir, baby, and you can get your pretty little ass back to that bar and get me my fucking vodka if you are so goddamn aware of it.” 

Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you can feel the frustration rising in you as you try to keep your composure. You didn’t want to insult the guests, but you also didn’t enjoy being talked to the way you were. Meeting the eye of the man who referred to himself as "Sir,"  you lift your brow and decide to stand your ground, shaking your head. 

“I won’t be doing that. These are the drinks you are allowed to have by Mr. Wen and you will enjoy them or you won't, Sir. Have a good night.” 

Turning on your heels, you feel good about how you ended the conversation. You can feel the pressure of the conflict lifting off you as you round the corner and enter the hallway, getting away from the constant bass of the music and the smell of the alcohol. You don’t see the pissed off look on the man’s face as you disrespect him and you don’t hear as he says he won’t let you get off that easy. 

The rest of the night goes by like every other without incident. You find yourself yawning as you walk through the parking lot towards your car, your hand in your purse, when hands push you forward hard. The feeling of the breath being knocked out of your lungs is the first thing that you feel as your chest meets the side of your car, the next is lips against your cheek as you hear the sound of the man’s voice, Sir. 

“Pretty little bitch... you have fun disrespecting me tonight?” 

Pushing back against him, you find that you can’t move with how tightly his fingers dig into your arms as his body pushes into yours from behind. Tears well up in your eyes from anger and fear as you try to look around the dark parking lot for anyone, but you were almost always the last person to leave the bar every night. 

“Please…stop.” 

You feel the man’s lips pull up in a smirk as he pulls your arms behind you so he can hold them with one hand, freeing up one of his hands. With his free hand, he tugs at your dress, pulling it towards your hip, even as you stomp your feet back at his boots, making him laugh. That is when you hear the other two men, who had been with him inside, laugh. 

“What’s your name? Nah, you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Just another little whore that works for Wen.” Hearing your boss’s name, you let out a loud scream, causing the man to push you against your car over your hood as his fingers trailed along your inner thigh upwards. “He likes to throw out the trash. We can show you where when we are done. Have you ever seen?”

The next sound you hear is a loud pop, followed by two others. You can only scream when the man collapses on top of you, something warm and wet soaking through the back of your dress as you struggle under him. The weight of his body is pulled from you and a hand is placed over your eyes as you start to flail your arms to fight. 

“Y/N! Stop, it’s me. Shh…darling. Stop…I’ll move my hand, but keep your eyes closed for me?” 

Jun’s voice and his arm moving around your waist to pull you back around against him like an anchor help calm you down. You hold his wrist tightly to your stomach, feeling his hand move from over your eyes as you keep them shut tightly out of fear of what you would see if you did open them. The smell of copper fills your nose. 

You feel hands tug your dress back down around your thighs when Jun finally pries his arm from your grasp and then a warm coat placed around your shoulders. When he tries to step away, leaving you standing there with your eyes closed, you start to panic, prompting him to shush you, his fingers running over your cheek as he leans you against your car. 

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you. Keep those eyes closed.” 

Nodding, you hold tightly to the leather and fur jacket around your arms as you listen to the hushed voices of Jun, Minghao, and Mingyu. You hear the sounds of something heavy being dragged along the pavement and then the slamming of a trunk causes you to jump. 

Jun watches you as Mingyu grunts, lifting the last of the trash off the ground and into one of the trunks. He had gotten lucky that you had screamed and that he had known you hadn’t listened to him earlier. He knew you had gone to their table but he never thought something this drastic would happen. 

“Motherfuckers…” 

Nodding along with Minghao’s words, Jun runs his fingers through his hair before letting out a long sigh. He knew there were people who would come looking for those who had done this to you and there were those who had seen you talking to them at the table tonight. 

“What do you wanna do about Y/N?” 

Pursing his lips, Jun watches as you visibly tremble a few feet away from them. You weren’t safe anymore and he couldn’t just let you go back to your apartment and hope for the best. 

“I’ll handle it.” 

Furrowing his brows, Minghao lifts his hands in confusion before moving towards Mingyu to close the last trunk as Jun moves back to you. You can feel his hands ghost over your arms before they finally rest on your biceps and he takes a breath, tilting his head and looking at your furrowed brow. 

“You can open your eyes now, Y/N.” 

Shaking your head, you find you're afraid to. What would you see? Would there be blood everywhere? Bodies? Whimpering, you open one eye only to see Jun in front of you before you open both eyes and glance around you. 

Tears stream down your cheeks when you notice the dark spots on the pavement, because you know what they are. You know what is running down your back through your dress and it makes your stomach tighten. Lifting his hand, Jun runs his fingers over your cheek and shakes his head. 

“You can’t go home. It’s not safe… you understand that, right?” 

Shrugging, you try to speak but all you can do is let out a sob. Jun’s thumb continues to stroke your cheek as he watches you intently, almost studying you. 

“I’m going to take you to my penthouse. You can stay with me for a while. I’ll keep you safe.”

It doesn’t dawn on you where you are or what that means until you are standing in Jun’s living room, looking out of the large window to the city below. You can feel the weight of everything around you, just like you can feel the dried blood on your back, causing your dress to stick to your skin. 

Furrowing his brows, Jun watches you as he keeps his voice low with his cellphone resting between his shoulder and his ear. You had been quiet since he had put you in his car and told you that you couldn’t go back to your apartment. He had told you at least three times why you couldn’t, but maybe now it was sinking in for you. 

“No, just grab some of her clothes and put them in a bag. I’ll buy new shit if I need to, but for now, I think she’d want her own things.” 

Rolling his eyes at Minghao’s response, Jun leans against his sofa, glancing down at his nails at some dried blood caked under them, making him grimace.

“Hao, just do it, alright? I don’t wanna fuckin’ argue with you right now. Drop it off in the morning.” 

Hanging up the phone, Jun lifts his eyes back to you as he sighs. He knew you were scared and confused, but that was the world that he was living in and it was the world that you started living in the moment you took your job. He couldn’t help but want to protect you from it still, just like he had shielded your eyes at the lounge. 

“Y/N, I am having Minghao pick up some of your personal items so that perhaps it will feel a bit more comfortable here.” 

Scoffing, you pull the borrowed jacket around you tighter, hearing your boss get closer to you. In truth, you were frightened of him just as much as you were thankful to him for saving you. You weren’t sure how his large penthouse could ever feel comfortable for you. 

Pushing his tongue into his cheek out of annoyance at your reaction, Jun moves to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the window. Lifting his hands to your arms, Jun feels your body stiffen under his touch before he sighs, leaning forward to speak next to your ear. 

“I will never hurt you, darling. I took care of those who did, remember?” 

Watching you nod, Jun feels your shoulders relax some so that he can slide his jacket down your arms, making you whine at the feeling of what was left. Your dress felt stiff and ruined, making you shift uncomfortably. 

“I know, Mr. Wen. I-I..I’m grateful. Could I just... I want to go home. I want to go take a shower and go to bed.” 

Jun frowns as he watches you struggle with your words. He knew there was blood on your skin and it made him furious. Leaning back to look over your frame, he shakes his head at your words and at his own assessment of your condition, noting the trail of blood running down the back of your thigh. 

“I’ve explained it to you multiple times. You aren’t safe there, but here you are.” Meeting your eyes in the reflection of the window, Jun lifts his brows as you frown at him. “You can shower here and I’ll find you something to wear. You’ll sleep just fine here with me, where you are safe. Do I make myself clear?” 

When you don’t answer right away, Jun rolls his eyes, turning you towards him so that he can look you in the eyes instead of just at your reflection. The look in his eyes is a mixture of intense and concerned, making you flustered and confused as you find yourself nodding in agreement. 

“Good girl. Come on.” 

Taking your hand into his, Jun takes the time to point out various rooms before leading you into a large bedroom. 

“You are welcome to anything in the kitchen and nothing is off limits to you. I just ask that you follow my rules while you are here.” Sighing, Jun gestures towards the ensuite as he continues to speak to you, dropping your hand. “You can use my shower.” 

Moving towards the dresser across from the end of the bed, he mutters under his breath to himself, too low for you to understand, as you watch him in disbelief. 

“Uh…Mr. Wen?”

Humming out a response, Jun furrows his brows, taking out one of his black cotton shirts and turning back towards you. He could see the confusion in your eyes, but he wasn’t sure what there was to be confused about. He had explained everything. 

“What? Also, let’s cut the formality, shall we? Just call me Jun. I’m going to get annoyed with the ‘Mr. Wen’ bullshit.” 

The idea of calling your boss by his first name makes your head spin, but you find yourself even more taken aback as he kneels in front of you to unzip your boots. Glancing up at you, Jun lifts his hand as if to say ‘go on’ before helping you lift your leg, slipping your foot out of your shoe. 

“I—um…okay. I could do that… But I was just going to say, isn't there a guest bathroom that I can use the shower in?” 

Lifting his brow as if you had just slapped him, Jun meets your eyes, removing your other boot and tossing it over his shoulder. You watch him stand as he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief at your obviously stupid question. 

“Of course I do, kitten. Clearly, I have guest rooms, but I don’t want you to use those showers. I brought you to mine. It’s called keeping an eye on you. I’ve explained this.” 

You could hear the annoyance in his breath at having to repeat himself. You were frustrated at having to hear him say it again and again, but it wasn’t making any sense. You were in some sort of twilight zone and you needed to wake up. Maybe that was all this was—a dream. You hadn’t been attacked. No one had been shot and your boss wasn’t lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into his bathroom.

Jun watches you as he leans into his large shower to turn on the water. You were standing with your eyes closed, almost as if you could make something appear or disappear in front of you, but as soon as the water turned on, you jumped, and he tightened his grip on your hand. You were right back to acting like that scared little kitten from his office earlier in the day. He could see your eyes darting around to avoid him and the moment his hand was away from yours, you were wandering away from him towards the counter, making him groan out of frustration. 

“Do I need to do everything?” 

Your eyes snap to Jun when he questions you and starts to move towards you once again. You can feel panic rise in your chest at the idea of what he might do even if you know he isn’t trying to hurt you. All you can think about in your head is the hand of the man from the lounge on your thigh tugging your dress up. 

“No! I–I can! I can do it!” 

Jun furrows his brows when you yell at him. He could see the fear in your eyes when you looked at him even though he had promised not to hurt you, but he couldn’t really fault you. Of course you would be scared of someone being that close after what happened. Taking a step back he puts up his hands to show you he’s not going to do something you don’t want. 

“Okay, I’ll be right outside the room then. I’m not trying to upset you, Y/N. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you and I meant it. I’m… fuck—I’m trying to help you.” 

You watch as Jun gives you one last look, a sad almost wounded look in his eyes as he watches your hands shake when you reach out to hold onto the counter in front of you for stability. You could tell he was struggling to leave you alone and the moment, but he was doing it for you. 

Reaching the door Jun groans under this breath, lifting his hand to run it through his hair as he leans against the wall just outside of the bathroom. He remembered the desperation locked in your gaze and the confusion. As much as you wanted to play a tough act and go home, he could picture you wandering some dark, dingy apartment in your blood stained dress for hours. You needed someone to take care of you. 

Closing your eyes for a moment once you are alone in the bathroom, you feel your legs tremble as the weight of the day seems to close in around you. The quartz of the counter under your fingertips feels like fragile glass and the silence feels like a roaring wave and you realize that this is what it would be like to be at home alone. You didn’t have a roommate, there was no family waiting for you. You would just be sitting on your bed completely alone stuck in a never ending silence as the world collapsed around you. 

Tears stream down your face as you reach for the end of your dress trying to pull on it in an attempt to try to undress yourself but it’s all too much. Opening your eyes, you search the door for Jun letting out a soft sob of his name just wanting him to come back realizing you can’t do this without him. It didn’t make sense but he was a buoy keeping you from drifting off into the middle of the sea.

Hearing his name whispered between your sobs, Jun furrows his brows looking around the door frame to meet your eyes. The sight of you almost breaks his heart and makes him move to you taking your face into his hand as he rests his other against the counter. Sighing, Jun shakes his head studying your pretty face as you shake your head prompting him to help you. 

“Y/N, you need to take your clothes off.” You lean into Jun’s touch as his thumb strums against your cheekbone. He waits for you to nod before he steps away and leans against the counter, glancing down trying to give you back some privacy. He was going to stay where you needed him, but he was going to let you try to do this yourself.  

Sniffing back your tears you move your eyes from Jun and towards the mirror in front of you as you once again try to work up the courage to pull up your dress. When your eyes meet yourself  in the steamed up mirror, they fall to a smear of dried blood on the side of your neck right above the top of your turtleneck. 

Jun furrows his brows, listening to the sounds of your breath quickening to the point of panic, his hands tighten at his side before he mutters, ‘fuck, and looks up to see you still dressed, rubbing your hand at the blood on your neck. Moving to you, he takes your hand, with one hand wrapping the other around your waist, to pull you back against him, shushing you. 

“Leave it. That’s what the water is for, baby. I was going to just—well, stand here and make sure you were okay but if you can’t even undress yourself—” 

Fingers slide from your waist to your thigh, carefully bunching your dress up your thigh, making you put your hand over Jun’s. Lifting his brows, he meets your eyes in the mirror, waiting for you to move your trembling hand giving him permission to continue. Jun takes a step back and slides your dress up your body. You feel shame and something else wash over you as Jun hums softly, helping you work the dress over your head before dropping it onto the counter. 

Luckily and unluckily for Jun, his eyes were moving over your back and to the dried blood that had transferred onto your body through your dress. While he was enjoying the view of your body on display in front of him, the idea of it being tainted by some piece of trash’s blood was enough to keep him from getting aroused. He needed to get you clean. 

This was not a situation you ever thought you would find yourself in—in your underwear, in your boss’s bathroom as he undressed you—but as Jun ran his hands along your arms soothingly, you found yourself somehow relaxing. Even under his intense gaze, there was a calm in the storm. 

“These next, okay, Y/N?” 

Swallowing hard, you nod and lift your hands, resting them over the cups of your bra as you feel the garment give way as Jun’s fingers undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders and you lower your eyes, moving one hand and then the other before covering your breasts once again. 

Shaking his head at how you try to keep your modesty, Jun takes a breath, pushing his fingers into top of your panties at your hips and pushing them down before letting gravity do the rest. What was the point of your need for modesty now? You were stunning and if it weren’t for the blood spoiling his view, Jun would have let you know then. 

“Go ahead, darling... I’ll be right here.” 

Leaning back against the counter, Jun lifts his brow at you as you shift sideways, trying to keep yourself covered, sliding into the glass shower and pulling the door closed behind you. The steam gave you some privacy, but it still allowed you to see where Jun was, which for some reason, made you feel at ease. 

Glancing back down at his nails, Jun takes a deep breath, hearing the water hitting your body before it hits the shower floor. It was a welcomed sound and one that he hoped to enjoy for himself once you were safely tucked away in his bed. 

Running his thumbnail under his index nail to clean out the blood he had seen earlier, Jun glances towards the shower, watching you lean your head back as the water rains down over you. He could see the dark red washing down the drain at your feet and he hoped that you would be able to get it all off without him. 

“Y/N…Let the water hit your back for a bit.” 

You furrow your brows at Jun’s voice, looking over your shoulder at him meeting his eyes through the glass. You knew that was where your dress had been sticking to you the most. Nodding, you step to your right, letting the water hit your back before you glance down at your feet. 

Jun is quick to open the door when you let out a loud gasp, your hand reaching for the door as you see the blood going down the drain. Tears mix with the water running down your face as Jun pulls you against him, stepping under the shower with you. 

Your eyes drop back down to the drain where your feet rest between Jun’s. You see blood mixing with water running over his feet and yours before you lean your head back against his shoulder, feeling his wet shirt against your neck. 

“You’re getting your clothes wet, Jun.” Sniffing between sobs, you look back down seeing less blood going down the drain but it was still enough to make you tremble in his arms. “And the blood… it’s on your feet.”  

Jun shakes his head, stepping away from you, keeping one hand on your arm as he uses the other to run it over your lower back, rubbing away the blood before glancing up at your face. 

“You’re worried about my clothes getting wet?” 

Smiling into his words, Jun sighs and furrows his brows carefully, swiping at some blood on your ass before moving to your thighs as he keeps talking, feeling you looking back at him as he focuses. 

“The blood isn’t yours or mine, that’s what is important. And it’s going down the drain where it belongs.” Pursing his lips, Jun meets your eyes briefly before wanting to once again distract you, protect you from looking at any more blood going down the drain. “What did I tell you when I hired you?” 

Shaking your head, you look at Jun, confused at why he would even be asking you something like that when you are so upset. Lifting your hand you swipe at tears and water on your face scoffing until he speaks again. 

“Tell me, Y/N.” 

His voice is stern but there is a layer of kindness to it that you were starting to get used to tonight. It was comforting and made you want to recall the conversation for him. 

“You—uh, you said that I was too sweet for the job. You said it would break me.” 

Nodding, Jun tilts his head, turning you to face him and glancing down the length of your body. At first, you feel incredibly exposed and self conscious, but after a moment, you realize he doesn’t even seem to be looking at your body but instead for blood. Finally, his eyes lift to meet yours and he licks water from his lips, taking a step back from you. 

“Now I have to put you back together...”

Running a towel over his wet hair, Jun leans against the door frame, looking at you curled up on his bed. You seemed to be finally resting after he had left you to get dressed in the t-shirt he had pulled from his dresser so he could take his own shower. In truth, he had worried you might try to wander off in the penthouse or even out of it, but he was happy to see you on his bed. Your bare legs were pulled up slightly as the comforter rested at your knees. 

Before, Jun had been more focused on making sure you were okay. He had been able to keep himself from letting his eyes look over your body in anything other than concern, but now as you lay in his bed in his clothes, it was harder to do that. 

Swallowing hard, Jun glances down at his bare chest, running the towel in his hand over some drops of water that had fallen from his hair before tossing the towel into the hamper and moving into the bedroom. He was already dressed in sweatpants, but he didn’t feel the need to put on anything else, knowing he was just going to lay down on the bed near you. Jun was tired, but he had a feeling it would be a restless night. 

Your eyes follow Jun as he moves around his bed, lifting his hand to run his fingers through the wet strands. You can’t help but let your eyes move over his torso and arms. While you were having one of the worst days in your life, the man in front of you was treating you with the most care you had ever experienced on that worst day, and he looked like he was chiseled from stone. 

Pushing your head down so that your lips are under your arm, you shift slightly when Jun lays down beside you. Staying quiet, your brows furrow as he groans under his breath, feeling the weight of the day in his back. He hadn’t looked over at you yet, but you find yourself furrowing your brows in concern as his eyes close tightly and he arches his back to stretch it. 

“Are you okay?” 

Your voice is soft, and Jun’s brows relax the moment it reaches his ears. He had thought you were asleep. His bed was big enough that he wasn’t that close to you and he knew he wasn’t being so loud that he would have woken you up, unless you were an incredibly light sleeper—clearly you hadn’t been asleep as he thought. Glancing over to you as he rests back on the bed, Jun lets his eyes move over your face as you hide half of it behind your arm. You were too pretty to hide like that but it wasn’t the time to make you do anything different. 

“‘Course. Your turn to worry about me now?” 

You can’t help but smile at Jun’s words before rolling your eyes, knowing he’s teasing you. You can see the small smile pulling at his lips as he turns on his side to face you; his arm is almost long enough that his fingers are able to brush your arm, but he doesn’t. 

“I was just asking. You sounded like you were in pain. I–” Moving your arm so you can speak more clearly, you watch as Jun’s brows furrow once again when your arm ends up against his fingers. “I’m just… I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t want your apology and he didn’t need it. Sighing, Jun adjusts his head on his arm, testing the waters as he rests the back of his index finger against your arm and runs his thumb along the side of it gently as he talks, feeling goosebumps spread under his touch. 

“Shit happens when you live like we do, Y/N. I told you that. I knew who those pricks were and what they were capable of. I didn’t want them around you for a reason.” 

Your eyes shift to where Jun’s fingers rest against your arm as you listen to him speak. You know that you can move or ask him to stop, but you find yourself not wanting either of those things. There is comfort in his touch. It’s the same comfort that you felt from the moment he put his hands over your eyes to shield you from what he had done to save you. 

“I know. I shouldn’t have gone against that… It’s just—if it hadn’t been me, it would have been one of the others. I think I know that now. None of the girls were comfortable.” 

Taking in a deep breath, Jun nods, drawing a small circle with his thumb near your wrist before wrapping his fingers around it, lightly letting your arm rest in his palm. 

“If we want to point fingers, there are plenty to point in all directions. I shouldn’t have allowed them into the bar. I knew what they were… I know who they work for.” 

Your fingers tremble as you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s. With how he is holding your wrist in his, you are able to drop your hand and rest it on the inside of his forearm, the tips of your fingers brushing over his skin. You watch him for a moment, watching the way his lips fall open to the sensation before Jun licks his lips and glances at yours as you speak. 

“I don’t blame you. I—well honestly, before... when we were in your car, I probably wanted to.” 

A smile pulls at Jun’s lips when you confess your thoughts to him. Your touch was so light, yet it made his skin feel like it was on fire. It was such an innocent thing and it had him trying so hard to keep himself in check. 

“Yeah? What changed?” 

Furrowing your brows, you analyze Jun’s smile. You had seen many of his smiles in the few months that you had been working for him but this one was different. If anyone had asked you to describe your boss before tonight, you would have called him stern, cold, indifferent, and even cruel. Watching Jun now, the way his brows furrow and then relax with worry as you stay quiet for longer than he would like, you know it would be different. The man you were getting to know now was guarded, caring, and warm. 

“You did.”

The sound of voices pulls you from your sleep. Glancing around the unfamiliar room, you start panicking at first, reaching for where Jun had been, only to find the smooth satin sheet under your fingers. It’s only the sound of his voice and that of his laughter that brings your heart rate back down, making you realize he hadn’t left you; he was just in another room.

Furrowing your brows, you try to listen carefully to what Jun is saying and who else is talking when it dawns on you that the other voice belongs to Minghao. The next thing that hits you is the smell of food and the sound of your stomach growling. It had been far too long since you had eaten and you were starting to feel it. 

Sitting up, you glance around for something to put on your lower half, only for a smile to pull at your lips when you notice a familiar bag next to the end of the bed. Jun had told you that Minghao was going to bring you things from your place and it had seemed that both had kept their promise. Sliding from the bed, you glance towards the door before pulling the bag up and onto the floor, opening it to see what had been packed for you. 

Jun glances back down the hall for the umpteenth time, making Minghao roll his eyes with a smirk on his face. He had seen Jun watch you at the bar, but it was never this bad. Sure, Minghao understood the gravity of what had happened, but it wasn’t like there was danger lingering in the doorway to the bedroom at all times. You were simply sleeping in after a difficult day. 

“She’s fine. Stop being such a fuckin—” 

Pointing the kitchen knife in the direction of his best friend, Jun stops Minghao before he starts. He knew he would never actually hurt him; however, that didn’t make Jun any less threatening with a sharp object in his hands. Lifting his hands from his thighs, Minghao leans back on the kitchen bar stool, his eyes falling to the vegetables that Jun had been cutting up to go into the omelette he was making for you. 

“Fine… so sensitive in the morning. You’ve never cooked for me.”

Scoffing, Jun adds the chives to his bowl as he meets Minghao’s eyes, whisking them in with the eggs. 

"Well, I don’t like you so...” 

You couldn’t help the smile that was pulling at your lips as you watched the two men bantering in the kitchen. You didn’t want to interrupt them, but after you had gotten dressed in some of the jeans and a long sleeved shirt, you followed their voices and the smell of the food. Now you were leaning against the tall cabinets, biting at your thumbnail, trying to stay quiet until Minghao noticed you and his brows raised in interest. 

Jun wasn’t the only one that found you attractive; maybe he was just a bit more forward with it, but Minghao couldn’t help but let his eyes move over you in the simple outfit. Taking a breath, the man drops his eyes when Jun notices him staring over his shoulder, making him curious at what could be so interesting that Minghao’s face had lit up. One glance in your direction told him everything he needed to know. 

“Hey, morning. I’m making you some food. Come here… Do uh—you like eggs? I don’t actually know.” 

Still smiling, you feel your cheeks burn at their attention as Minghao peeks back up to watch you moving closer, your bare feet on the tile as you glance into the pan, watching the omelette cook. 

“It smells so good. I do like eggs. I should be cooking for you, though.” 

Scoffing, Jun turns his body so there is no way you could take the pan from him after hearing you laugh softly. His eyes follow you as you move around the island to take a seat next to Minghao, who presses his lips together before looking over at you. Jun furrows his brows at the man’s reaction. It was like he was attracted to you, but that was ridiculous, right?

“Morning, Minghao. Thank you for bringing me stuff from my house.” 

Smirking softly, Minghao nods, his eyes moving along your face as his fingers slowly tap against his arm. 

“No problem. I didn’t have a choice anyway, but it wasn’t the worst thing this asshole has ever made me do.” 

Jun rolls his eyes as he tilts the pan towards a plate, letting the omelette slide out onto it. He knew that while Minghao was teasing him, he also wasn’t lying. There had been plenty that he had asked of him, and asking him to pack up a few things from your house was one of the easiest things he had ever done. 

Sliding the plate across the island, Jun watches as you smile up at him, taking it with a small thank you before you pick up the fork and glance at both of the men with a laugh. Neither of them had food in front of them and Jun was already cleaning up where he had been cooking.

“Wait? You aren’t going to eat too?” 

Leaning back in his chair, Minghao shakes his head. He extends his arm to rest it on the back of your chair out of habit as he looks towards Jun, who sighs softly, using his forearm to turn on the sink. 

“We already did. You slept in, Y/N. Don’t worry about us; eat up. You want something to drink?” 

Cutting into the omelette, you sigh, glancing towards Minghao as he asks you about a drink. Why are both of them taking care of you now? The look in his eyes was so similar to Jun’s when he took the time to dry you off after your shower before pulling his shirt down over your body. 

“Um… yes?” 

Nodding as he slides out of his chair, Minghao moves around Jun as if he belongs in the penthouse, opening the fridge to take out a pitcher of juice. You watch as the men exchange a few words in passing, with Jun passing a glass to Minghao before the glass is then slid over to you. Taking your first bite of food, you let out a breath through your nose in disbelief at how both of them are acting compared to how you remember watching Minghao drag a man out of Jun’s office the day before. 

“What? You don’t like orange juice? Everyone likes orange juice, doll.”

After a couple of days of being in Jun’s penthouse, you were starting to go stir crazy. You were feeling more like yourself and it was getting harder and harder to act normal around Jun while sleeping next to him every night. While Jun had his office in his penthouse and all of the comforts of his home around him, you were a visitor with a bag and wandering eyes. 

Jun had gone to great lengths to try to keep you entertained. He had given you access to his credit cards and a laptop, which you refused to use. You had access to his entire penthouse, including a pool, and yet you were sitting on the reading sofa in his office. Glancing up from his desk over his glasses as you sigh for what he could only assume was the twentieth time in the last hour, his resolve breaks. 

“Y/N… are you struggling to breathe, darling?” 

Looking up from your phone, you pout at Jun as he uses his index finger to pull his glasses down his nose, getting a better look at you from the distance from the desk to the sofa. You could feel your mouth go dry at how he was looking at you. There was a sense of danger in his gaze. You could tell he was annoyed with you, but so were you. Worst of all, you were bored, and you were starting to get homesick. 

“Maybe. It’s stuffy in this penthouse. I want to go out.” 

Scoffing, Jun pushes his glasses back up his nose, looking back at his computer screen. You have already tried this a few times today. He knew you wanted to leave, but you were forgetting how much danger you were in. The trauma was starting to be masked by impatience. Meanwhile, he was often reminded of just how real the danger was. 

“I bet you do. Go for a swim, then you’ll be outside, darling.” 

Leaning your head back, you groan like a petulant child being told no. Smirking to himself at your reaction, Jun clicks through the pictures of the burned cars from his personal garage located at the bar. You hear him sigh, his brow lifting as he rolls his neck. That aura of danger is very present as anger washes over him. 

“Motherfucker…” 

Furrowing your brows, you sit up as if you are going to move towards him when Jun looks at you, making you change your mind. 

“I–what’s wrong?” 

Jun simply shakes his head and lifts his hand, pushing his lips hard with his thumb as he tries to think about how to phrase what he wants to tell you. He didn’t want you to be as terrified as you were when he first brought you home and he didn’t want you to be watching over your shoulder every second for the rest of your life. He knew he would have to take care of this problem but that wasn’t something you needed every detail of. No, that was something he could metaphorically shield your eyes from. 

“Just… There was some property damage at the bar. Nothing for you to worry about. Nothing that I can’t handle from here.” 

You could see there was more on Jun’s mind, but something about that look in his eye made you not want to push the subject much more. 

“Okay… “ 

Furrowing your brows, you sit back on the sofa, watching Jun run his fingers through his hair before he pulls most of it back out of the way. Tilting your head as the minutes pass, you let your eyes move over his face and down to his hands as he works.

Jun glances towards you every few minutes, a smirk pulling up at one side of his lips each time he finds you looking at him, only for you to look away when you get caught. That was becoming a frequent occurrence, and one that he was starting to enjoy. It wasn’t just here that it happened, but also as the two of you lay in bed at night or early in the morning. He would wake up to find your eyes on him before you would close your eyes, pretending to still be asleep. 

You were bored; Jun knew that… He also knew you kept thinking about what was going on outside of the penthouse. You were thinking about the bar, your house, friends and family perhaps. You needed a distraction. He could do that. Maybe he had just been holding back too much. 

Biting his bottom lip, Jun hears you take a deep breath before he looks over at you to watch you once again look away quickly. You were painfully obvious and so fucking adorable. Reaching over with his left hand, Jun turns off his monitor as he tilts his head, watching you try to look busy scrolling through your phone. 

“Kitten?” 

Your cheeks burn at the pet name, and your eyes meet Jun’s as you glance at him over your phone. He had called you that name before and many others, but this time the name felt different and it made your thighs press together out of instinct. 

Seeing you shift at his voice, Jun runs his tongue along his teeth. He knew you were listening to him and he had an effect on you. That’s all he needed to know. Lifting his right hand, palm up, he bends his index finger back twice, summoning you to him. 

Just watching Jun’s finger move, the look on his face is enough to make your skin feel like it’s on fire. You curse at yourself under your breath for the reaction you have before glancing away. You know you shouldn't be acting like you are over your boss, but a sigh falls from his lips along with your name and you are on your feet, moving towards his desk. 

Sliding his chair back slightly, Jun follows you with his eyes the entire way until you are standing in front of him. Leaning his head back, he smirks at you, really looking at you for the first time since you stepped into his penthouse. He had been respectful so far, but now you could feel him undressing you with his eyes and you felt exposed and aroused. 

Leaning your hand against the desk at your right, you take a deep breath, waiting for Jun to speak. You had a good idea where this was headed, but you weren’t going to make a complete idiot out of yourself by throwing yourself at him. It was bad enough that you were pressing your thighs together in your jeans as you shifted your legs almost uncomfortably as you stood there waiting. 

Jun was enjoying making you wait. You looked like a dog waiting for a treat. He had your treat, watching you do the stay command like such a good girl until he said the word. Shifting his legs apart, Jun lets out a breath as he lets his eyes finally move back up to your eyes. 

“I’ll ask this first. Do you want this? I won’t make you do anything, but I don’t plan on going easy on you, darling.” 

Blinking a few times, you feel your mouth go dry at Jun’s words. You hadn’t been wrong and you had never been so aroused in your entire life. You knew what had happened to you at the bar—the feeling of the man’s hand on your skin—but now, as your eyes move over Jun’s hand, remembering it on your skin as he took care of you afterwards, you find yourself wanting him to cover up that bad feeling with something good. You just didn’t want to give in so easily. Licking your lips, you tilt your head as Jun does the same. 

“This? This… what? I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Mr. Wen.” 

Jun sucks his bottom lip between his teeth at your words, feeling his palm itch. You were being a brat and he knew it. You knew exactly what he meant—especially with your “Mr. Wen” bullshit. He could hear the purr in your voice and it was making his pants tight. Lifting his hand, Jun scratches his eyebrow, an unamused laugh slipping from between his lips as you shift to stand on one foot, your other allowing your toes to run along your ankle. 

“Mmm, baby.” You can’t help the small smile that plays at your lips when you hear the frustration in Jun’s voice, his eyes moving over your legs and up your body as he speaks. “If you think you can tease me and get away with it, you are going to learn you are sorely mistaken. I’ll ask again, more clearly, and I won’t ask again. Do you want me to fuck you, or not?” 

Jun watches as the confidence that you had been building to tease him quickly fades at his question. All that brain power that you had thinking up ways to get him riled up was now being used to picture getting your pussy filled by him. It was cute watching how quickly he could make you crumble. Such a smart girl goes dumb and just nods. Pointing at his lips, Jun signals for you to use your words. By clearing your throat, you try to sound louder than you actually are. 

“I–I want you to.” 

Nodding along with your words, Jun reaches out to slide his fingers along your hip, pulling you towards him and causing you to stumble, but he is quick to help you settle on his lap. 

“Then that’s all you had to say. Isn’t that easier? Brats don’t get things they want, but good girls do. Remember that. I don’t like when my palm itches, kitten.” 

Swallowing hard, you glance down to Jun’s hand as he runs it along your thigh. You can’t remember a time when you had fallen so hard in lust with another man. Resting your hand on his chest, you meet Jun’s eyes once again as he leans his head back to watch you closely, his thumb brushing your inner thigh going further up your leg. 

“I… um—” Watching your legs spread as you struggle to think straight, Jun smirks, moving his hand to the button keeping your jeans clasped. “I don’t know what that means. What will you do to me if your palm itches?”

Jun grins, his brows lifting at your question. He wasn’t sure if you were still being bratty or seriously asking that question. Pushing his thumb against the clasp of your jeans, he uses his other fingers to work the metal button from its secure hold so that it gives way letting your jeans undo for him. 

“Means I’d have to punish you, baby. Don’t make me do that. Understand?” 

Lifting his free hand, Jun holds your chin so that you meet his eyes, his other hand sliding along your stomach under your shirt. You sucked in a breath, feeling his thumbnail circle your belly button, Jun’s lips pulled up in a smirk as his words seemed to dawn on your face and you nodded. 

“Good girl. Stand up; let me get you out of these clothes. You don’t need them anymore.” 

Letting out a shaky breath, you feel your hands tremble as you slide off Jun’s lap to stand between his legs. You didn’t want to be as easy as you were being with him or as quick as you were to listen to him, but his tone of voice had your mouth drooling and your panties sticking to your folds. 

Jun tugs at your jeans, pulling them down your legs, letting his eyes move with them. He had seen almost every inch of your body already, but this was completely different. He was able to really drink you in this time. He could allow himself to actually look at you and you were the most stunning thing he had ever seen in his entire life. 

Sucking in a breath, Jun’s eyes focus on the wet spot on the center front of your panties as you lift your legs for him, letting him remove your jeans all together. God, you were already so wet for him. He couldn’t wait to see just how wet you were. 

Jun wanted to take his time with you but there would be plenty of time for that. He was impatient and his cock was straining against his pants as his hands tugged your panties down your legs. You listen to the groan that slips past his lips and your thighs push together in reaction. The sound was almost sinful as he saw how your folds were glistening in the light. 

Glancing up at you, Jun pushes his hands up your stomach, letting you help him pull your shirt up and over your head. His eyes fall to your breasts, his mouth watering, brow lifting. He had wondered if you were wearing anything under your shirt earlier, but respect for you had stopped him from looking too close—now he knew his answer. 

“Now you?” 

Smirking at your question, Jun shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. He had no plans on getting as naked as you were. He enjoyed seeing you completely naked in front of him. You whine his name, and Jun gives you a faux pout of concern, lifting his hand to tug open the buttons of his shirt. 

“You’ll take what I give you and thank me for it.” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat as you try to process what Jun has said to you. No man has ever spoken to you like that and you enjoy it. You find yourself trying to fight the goosebumps that spread over your skin at the idea of him walking this fine line of meanness and caring. Your eyes follow his fingers to the end of his shirt as he tugs it loose from his pants, shifting in his chair. You had seen Jun’s body before, at least his torso and you had appreciated it, but this was different. You wanted to run your hands over every line and ridge of his muscles, but you find yourself standing as still as you can as he keeps his eyes on you, using one hand to undo his belt and pants slowly. 

Lifting his hips, Jun pushes his pants and briefs down, letting them fall to his ankles as your mouth falls open in surprise. You had let your eyes wander to his sweatpants more than once.  You had curiously looked at his bulge and wondered just how big he might be, but seeing his cock hard and resting back against his abdomen—your heart was racing. 

Seeing the expression on your face, Jun couldn’t help feeling his ego expand. He knew he was big, perhaps bigger than some would expect and better than that, and he knew how to use what he had been given. Smirking, he leans his head back, reaching down to wrap his hand around his shaft, stroking himself from tip to base, knowing you were watching him closely. 

“Kitten… Your mouth is watering. Tell me—do you want to sit on it or do you want to suck on it?”

Feeling your cheeks burning, you look from Jun’s hands to his eyes and back, stuttering over your words, not sure what to say. He was being so forward and that wasn’t something you were used to. 

“Wha—I… I don’t—” 

Laughing under his breath, Jun groans, pushing his thumb against his slit and arching his hips upwards towards the feeling as pre-cum drips down his thumb into his palm. Letting go of his cock, Jun lifts his hand and purses his lips once again, bending his finger back towards him to make you come to him. You watch the pre-cum slide over his skin towards his wrist, making your knees feel weak. 

“It’s okay, darling. I know you don’t have any thoughts in your pretty head but getting fucked. Get on your knees and let me use that mouth to get my cock wet. Gotta make sure it’s wet enough to squeeze it into your little cunt, don’t we?” 

Your head was spinning as Jun’s hand wrapped around your wrist and you lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. In the past, you had cussed out guys for much less and turned down tinder dates when they asked to see your pussy, referring to it as your ‘cunt’. Yet, here you were on your knees, wanting Jun to fuck yours. 

Kicking one of his legs out of his pants, Jun moves his hand from your wrist to your face as you move between his legs, looking up at him for direction. It was both the most adorable thing and the sexiest thing he had seen in his life. You looked just like that puppy waiting for a treat. Your lips slightly parted, your head tilted back, and your hands on his knees. He felt like he could cum on the spot just looking at you, but he had better control than that, and he had plans for you. 

Guiding you forward, Jun uses his other hand to hold his cock, angling it so that his tip rests against your lips. You open your mouth as Jun bites at his bottom lip, a groan caught in his throat when his tip glides along your warm, wet tongue. Nails scratch at your jaw, fingers sliding down while Jun lifts his hips, just slightly pushing his cock even further into your mouth until you close your eyes and tighten your hand on his thigh. 

You hadn’t taken all of his cock in your mouth—not even close. You could almost feel him in your throat as Jun held your head still for a moment. Letting go of your head, he lets you move on your own as he leans his head back, groaning your name under his breath. 

Jun knew he wasn’t going to be able to let you keep your mouth on him for long. He had plans for you and they didn’t involve him cumming prematurely down your throat, no matter how good you were with your mouth. That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it for a few minutes. It didn’t mean he couldn’t relish in the feeling of you gagging around him as you forced yourself down further on his cock. You weren’t a quitter…  Jun could appreciate that. 

“Fuuuckk—” 

The word is drawn out on a groan as Jun looks down at you on your knees, feeling you finally pull back for air. He meets your eyes and he knows you are going to go back for more, but his hand catches your throat loosely and you stop in your tracks. The action scares you at first. You gasp, your eyes widening, but Jun purses his lips and shakes his head at your panicked whimper as he runs his thumb along your pulse point. 

“You think I’d ever fucking hurt you? Princess…no. I’d wear your ass out and then kiss it better, but I’d never actually hurt you in a way you wouldn’t like.” 

Using a bit of pressure to urge you to stand, Jun lifts you by your throat as you stand on your own. Looking up at you, he grins as you shiver in his grasp, leaning towards him, finally relaxing as he slides his hand towards your collarbone. 

“Red, if you want me to stop; if anything hurts or scares you too much. Yellow, if you need to slow down or if you need a break. Green, if you are okay. If I ask you for your color, you don’t hesitate to tell me. Understand?” 

Nodding, you lick your lips as Jun’s free hand slides over your hip before he guides you towards his desk. 

“Good girl. Up you go.” 

You give him a confused look until Jun stands, kicking his foot free of his pants as both his hands move to your waist, lifting you on to his desk. Stepping between your legs, Jun smirks down at you as you lean back slightly, trying to avoid pushing any of his paperwork or supplies out of your way. 

“So timid and sweet after sucking my cock like a slut... what are you so worried about? Some pens and paper?”

Your cheeks burn when Jun degrades you. Leaning one hand against the desk, Jun reaches behind you to swipe most of the files and office supplies onto the floor with a loud clang. You can’t help but jump to the sound as he grins against your ear. 

“Now you can lean back without worrying what you might hit. If the computer falls off, I’ll just buy another one. I have a feeling this will make breaking anything in my office worth it.” 

Jun laughs when you whine his name and shake your head, trying to argue with him. Leaning back just enough to hover his face in front of yours, Jun watches your mouth fall open when he slides his fingers through your wet folds. His brows furrow at the feeling of your soft folds against his fingers and just how wet you were for him. It was one thing to see it, but it was another to feel it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re dripping on my fingers. You want my cock that bad?” 

You can only moan and push your hips towards Jun’s fingers when you feel him push two against your entrance. You want to answer him and defend your dignity, but instead you only prove him right when you sob his name on another moan, feeling his fingers start to stretch you out. 

Resting his forehead against yours, Jun smirks at hearing the sweet sounds slipping from between your lips. They were the sounds of his dreams and his daydreams. He could recall many days and nights spent with you in his head and him wondering how you would sound with his fingers stuffed in your pussy, and now he knew. You sounded angelic. 

“That’s right… you got my cock all wet, kitten, but now I have to stretch out this tight little hole. Gotta make sure I don’t hurt you.” 

Tears collect in your eyes as your nails scratch at the wood under you, feeling a third finger sliding into you. The stretch is intense but welcomed, just like the dirty words being whispered against your lips. Gasping for a breath, you roll your hips down over Jun’s fingers, tilting your head up to brush your lips against Jun’s, testing the waters. A bit of fear ripples through your body like waves in a pool when he doesn’t kiss you back at first. Instead, Jun groans—a sound similar to a growl in his throat—and his fingers push into you hard and deep before he bites at your lips, claiming your kiss for his own. 

Jun had wanted to kiss you, but he had been worried. He had been afraid to scare you off with intimacy or perhaps to get too attached. All that faded away when your lips met his and he knew that he was fucked. You were his in every sense of the word as his lips pressed to yours, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and your walls began to tighten around his fingers like a vice. 

You reach up to cling to Jun’s jacket, scratching at the soft linen, wishing you could get to the skin as he smirks against your lips, feeling you cum around his fingers. Squeezing your quivering thighs around his body, you try to beg for mercy. Jun laughs into a whispered groan of “again” against your lips, feeling you clamp down on his fingers, another orgasm ripping through your body. 

As your body relaxes, Jun carefully slides his fingers out of you, lifting his hand towards his mouth to suck his fingers clean. Your heart races not only from the intensity of your orgasms, but also from the sight of Jun licking your cum from his fingers as he groans in appreciation. 

“Delicious… I knew you would be, kitten. Been wanting to do this since the day I hired you.” 

Jun grins around his index finger as you press your lips together, obviously embarrassed by his words and how forward he is being with you. He was enjoying every drop of you on his fingers. He wanted to bury his face between your legs and pull an orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but the painful throb of his cock was telling him otherwise. 

“Color?” 

Swallowing hard, you nod as you take a breath. You knew Jun wanted a verbal answer, you just needed to find the words and your voice after two orgasms. Your mouth felt like cotton and he looked impatient. Licking your dry lips, you let out your breath slowly and finally manage to speak quietly, but it’s enough for Jun. 

“Green, I’m okay.” 

To Jun, you were more than okay. He could see the look in your eye and he knew you wanted his cock. He had felt how your pussy was sucking his fingers back in, and he had a feeling you’d do the same with his cock. Nodding, Jun lifts his brows, using his hand to angle the head of his cock against your folds so that he pushes against your clit. Hearing you whine, still sensitive, he smirks and tilts his head, knowing he needs to ask more questions, though he wants to just bury himself in you. 

“Tell me, darling. When was the last time you had something inside you?” 

Your breath quickens as you answer Jun’s question. You were almost afraid to answer him, afraid he wouldn’t like the answer or, worse, that he would like it too much. You were a busy woman and it was his fault. 

“A while… probably, I don’t know, six months, maybe closer to seven.” 

Jun nods, enjoying the idea of no one has been close to you for the past few months. If he had his way now, no one would be except him. Licking his lips, Jun meets your eyes, leaning his head to the side as you try to look past him, feeling under pressure under his gaze. 

“Are you on birth control? Hm?”

He could tell you were surprised by the question. That wasn’t something guys usually ask you. Typically, they would just put on a condom or wait for you to tell them, but Jun was different. When you look taken aback, Jun grins and rolls his eyes, lifting his hand to brush it over your warm cheek as he uses his other to tease your clit again with his cock. You can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth as you lift your hips, almost instinctively searching for Jun’s cock at the feeling, but Jun just tsks, pushing your hips back down. 

“Not so fast, baby. Answer the question. Yes or no? I want to fill you up… but I won’t tonight if you aren’t on —” 

“I am! Please, just, oh my god. Stop teasing me?” 

Hearing you beg was something special and Jun knew he could get used to the sound of it. He could feel how he was leaking against your folds just from the sound of it and now he wasn’t going to make you wait. Jun watches your face as he pushes into you, the way your mouth falls open as he stretches you slowly. 

You knew he had taken time to make you cum on his fingers twice and yet you were clinging to Jun as he slowly eased his cock into you, making sure you could handle him. It wasn’t painful, but by the time he rested his hand against the swell of your ass, scratching his nails against your skin to the feeling of you clenching around him, you felt the fullest you had ever felt. 

“Please. Please… Oh, fuck…” 

Begging again... Jun groans, feeling his head spin and his stomach tighten at the sound of your voice. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to control himself, but with how you were begging, he wasn’t sure you wanted him to and he had said he wasn’t going to go easy on you. Sliding his hand back to your throat, Jun feels you swallow hard under his palm as his hips meet yours hard, thrusting into you so deeply that tears instantly fall from the corners of your eyes.

You had been with several men over the years, but none of them had ever made you feel like you were simultaneously floating and drowning at the same time. It was hard to catch your breath between the panic of having Jun’s hand on your throat and the pleasure of Jun’s cock hitting you perfectly with every single thrust. 

When Jun’s hand tightens around your throat, your hand moves quickly to grab his forearm out of fear of what he is going to do to you. Jun smirks at your reaction before his expression softens. He could tell you were scared, but he needed to show you there was nothing to be scared of. 

Watching you carefully, Jun watches your lips fall open in pleasure as your walls tighten around him, your orgasm taking you back over the edge before he squeezes your neck just tight enough that you can’t catch your breath. You feel yourself let go; your brain goes fuzzy, but as soon as you relax around Jun, his hand loosens around your neck and his lips press to your cheek. 

“Breathe. A big, deep breath for me, beautiful. There you go. Tell me how fucking good that felt?” 

You find it hard to think straight, much less speak, as Jun lifts your knee to his hip, burying his cock so deep that you feel like he is in your stomach. Groaning against your neck, Jun turns his head to press his lips against your soft skin before latching on to it, sucking a deep mark so that you will remember where he was as his climax rolls through him. 

With every thrust, Jun pushes his cum back into you until he finally comes to a stop with his hips pressed against yours. Feeling your thighs trembling on either side of him, Jun smiles against your neck with a groan. He knew he needed to move, get you cleaned up, and get all of his cum out of you, but keeping his cock and his cum in you was too tempting. You were warm, tight, and wet. Jun could get used to being inside of you and he could get used to the idea of stuffing you full of his cum. 

Leaning back to look down at you, Jun tilts his head as he studies you. He wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to just look at you and read your mind, he wasn’t at the point yet. If he wanted to know something now, he’d have to ask and hope that you told him the truth or that he knew you at least well enough that if you lied to him, he’d know. 

“Mm, wasn’t that better than going out, darling?”

Sighing, you can’t stop yourself before you roll your eyes, causing Jun to laugh at your reaction. That was better than lying to him. You were a brat, but he was going to have fun breaking you out of it. Running his finger over your cheek, Jun watches you bite your lip as you run your thigh along his hip to rest your foot over his ass to get comfortable under him. 

“It was fun, but I’d still like to go out.”

Taking a breath, Jun narrows his eyes before looking to the side at his computer, which luckily hadn’t fallen off his desk while fucking you. He remembered the pictures of several of his ruined cars and what it could mean for you if you were found by the prick who wanted you. You didn’t understand, and you didn’t really know the situation. Maybe he could compromise with you. 

“Tomorrow... for no more than an hour, but you go with Minghao. You aren’t going anywhere alone. Do I make myself clear, Y/N?” 

Meeting your eyes, Jun waits for you to nod before he leans to press his lips to yours. A groan slips from his lips as he slowly slips his cock out of you. Your brows furrow at the feeling of being empty and the sticky feeling of cum between your legs. 

Stretching his back, Jun glances between your thighs, only to smirk at the sight of his cum starting to drip out of you. He feels his cock already twitch as he feels aroused at the sight. Shaking his head, he runs his fingers through your sensitive folds, pushing two fingers into you and slowly meeting your eyes as your mouth falls open in surprise. 

“Mm, what? I don’t want my cum to drip on the floor. You can handle one more, can’t you, honey?”

Glancing over at you, one hand on the wheel, the other resting his thumbnail against his lips, Minghao listens to your sigh as you look at your phone. When he got to the penthouse, he could tell things were different. The air felt different, you looked different, and Jun looked even cockier. But then Jun had grabbed your chin and kissed you so hard that Minghao was sure he had knocked you out, and he knew what was different. 

“You fucked him?”

Minghao had been quiet, uncharacteristically so, since he had gotten to the penthouse. You enjoyed Minghao’s company, even before all the drama or before what had happened between you and Jun, so his acting so odd was making you feel unsettled. You were trying to distract yourself and enjoy the feeling of not being cooped up in the penthouse when Minghao’s words shocked you back to reality. 

“I—wha—” 

“It’s actually not a question. I don’t know why I asked it like that. I know you did. He’s even cockier than normal.” 

You feel heat rising along your neck and face as Minghao rolls his neck, a hint of annoyance dripping off his tongue with each word. Why did he care? Was he jealous? Furrowing your brows, you shift in the seat of Mingyu’s G Wagon. You were embarrassed and looking for anything else to talk about.

“I—uh. Why aren’t we… Where is your Ferrari? Did you bring Mingyu’s car to be less conspicuous? ‘Cause I don’t think a G Wagon is much better.” 

Rolling his eyes, Minghao leans his head back, glancing over at you with a smirk. He could tell you were flustered and deflecting. It wasn’t going to work. 

“Cute, nice try, doll. Uh, I hate this tank. It’s big and unnecessary, just like Gyu. But my car…” 

Sighing, Minghao furrows his brows, looking out at the road turning onto the highway that would lead him towards your apartment. He didn’t like that it was where you wanted to go, but it was your request, and Jun had told him, “anywhere she wants to go for an hour”. 

“It’s seen better days. It was in the garage when all the others got fucked.” 

Furrowing your brows, you give Minghao a confused look, making him give you one right back before his face changes. Jun hadn’t told you what had happened and he had said too much. Clearing his throat, Minghao shakes his head and the corners of his lips turn down as he shrugs, trying to think of how to fix his big mouth. 

“Minghao… What happened? You were the one who would usually tell me shit. Don’t do this to me. Don’t I deserve to know?” 

You watch as Minghao lets out a drawn out breath once again, leaning his head back against the leather headrest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel before he nods and curses under his breath. He knew this was stupid and that Jun would be pissed off at him, but you weren’t wrong. You deserved to know. 

“There was a hit at the lounge. The garage where Jun keeps his cars?” Minghao’s eyes meet yours to make sure you know what he is talking about. When you nod, he continues looking back out at the road. “Someone set every fucking car in that fuckin’ garage on fire. We got lucky that we have a fire suppression system so it kicked in before it spread to the bar.” 

Lifting your hands to your lips, you feel your stomach flip with anxiety. You knew Jun had told you about some property damage but the way he had said it, you thought perhaps there was some graffiti on the side of the building or broken windows. This was more than some simple property damage. They were trying to kill people or at least make a point. 

Minghao nods, seeing your reaction out of the corner of his eye as he pulls into your building complex’s parking lot. His eyes scan the parking lot before he reaches over your lap to open the glove box, taking out a 9 mm. Meeting your eyes, he lifts his brow at your reaction as he slips the gun into the back of his jeans. 

“I just told you what happened at the bar; you think I’m going anywhere without one? Besides, you think I went anywhere without one before? Come on, doll...  Use your head. Your time is ticking; your boyfriend wants you home soon.” 

Not waiting for your response, Minghao opens his door and slides out of the car, the door slamming hard and making you sigh loudly. You wanted to tell him that Jun wasn’t your boyfriend, but in truth, you weren’t even sure what he was. By the time you start to get out of the car, Minghao has your door open, his brows lifted at your delayed movement. Rolling your eyes, you slide off the seat and stand next to him, closer than you anticipated, as he meets your eyes, letting them fall to your lips once before looking up and away. 

Your breath quickens, and your heart begins to race even from the small look shared by the two of you. You find yourself wondering if he had felt the small thing or if you were just too much in your head after everything that had happened between you and Jun in such a short amount of time. Taking your wrist in his hand, Minghao’s eyes scan the parking lot as he slides the keys into his leather jacket, pulling you alongside him towards the building. 

“You are walking so fast, Minghao... Why are you mad at me?” 

Rolling his eyes at your question, Minghao uses his shoulder to push the door open, letting you move past him before he follows you, taking your hand in his to keep you close to him. You furrow your brows at the feeling, but as he keeps looking behind the two of you until you reach your apartment door, you can only frown at him until he finally answers, letting you take out your keys. 

“I’m… It’s not that. I’m not mad at you. I’m doing a fucking job, Y/N. Stop—” 

Reaching up with your key, you put your hand on your door when Minghao tells you to stop, but you feel your door giveaway under your touch. Your question had distracted him just enough that he hadn’t noticed the way your door looked ajar. Grabbing your wrist, Minghao pulls you behind him as he uses the other to take out the gun, flipping the safety with his thumb before pushing the door open with his shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if necessary. 

You feel your heart in your throat as you cling to Minghao’s leather jacket, your fingernails scratching at the leather out of nerves. He keeps his hand on you even as he kicks your door back in place behind the two of you, not wanting someone to come in behind him. You swallow hard, afraid to close your eyes but also too afraid to peek around Minghao’s arm, nervous that someone will be there and that you will see him use his gun. 

“I’m gonna move my hand, Y/N. Stay behind me; you got it.” 

Nodding against his back, you sniff back tears, glancing down at your floor and seeing your things scattered. It was obvious that someone had been in your apartment and they were either looking for something or they were mad you weren’t there. 

Minghao curses under his breath at the state of your apartment. It had only been a few days since he had been there. You kept a clean, organized place, and now your couch was turned over, your entertainment center was on the floor, and the TV was shattered. He could see empty frames, the pictures taken, or at least you were ripped out of the pictures. 

Taking each room slowly, Minghao’s anxiety calms down with each one until he finally realizes that no one is there. Turning to face you, he cups your face with one hand, wiping your tears with his thumb as he puts the safety back on his gun, putting it back into his jeans. Taking out his cellphone, Minghao puts it to his ear and you hear Jun’s voice muffled against his ear as you finally look around, letting out a sob. 

Jun sits up, hearing the sound of your fear and sorrow. He was ready to stand up and walk out the door if necessary, but Minghao’s sigh made his brows furrow. Something was wrong, but Minghao didn’t seem distressed, just pissed. 

“What the fuck is going on, Hao?”

Lifting your head so he can wipe the other side of your face as you cry, Minghao shushes you, moving you to sit on your bed among some of your clothes that had been pulled from your closet and drawers. He watches you carefully as you pick up one of your dresses, your fingers holding it up realizing it had been ripped to the point that it wasn’t something you could repair. They had destroyed anything they could get their hands on to make a point. 

"Fuckers broke into her place. They ransacked it, took pictures, and ripped up her shit.”

Jun’s teeth grind together for multiple reasons. One, he hadn’t wanted you to go back to your apartment. He knew that if this was reversed and he was going after someone, that was the first place he would sit, waiting for the mark to come back. Two, he was furious that they had gone through your stuff and taken personal items. This was worse than his cars. He could replace those, but could he repair your sense of security? 

“I—are you fucking stupid? Get her out of there. I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch. Bring her home, Minghao! Or I’ll come get her myself.” 

Jaw clenched at Jun’s words, Minghao listens to the phone go silent as Jun hangs up on him. He knew he was upset with him, but he also didn’t blame him. He hadn’t wanted to bring you here in the first place, but Minghao hadn’t wanted to upset you by telling you no. Maybe you needed to get used to hearing it from him. 

“Come on, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Scoffing, you gesture around you as Minghao talks about taking you home. 

“I am at home!” 

Shaking his head, Minghao grabs your arm, pulling you up with some force and making you whine before he leans to rest his forehead against yours, muttering an apology. He didn’t want to scare you, but he needed you to understand how serious this was. 

“I’m taking you back to Jun. I’m taking you home. Don’t fucking argue with me.” 

You swallow hard, your eyes meeting Minghao’s eyes so close. You nod and lick your lips, turning your arm in his grasp. You wrap your hand around his wrist to make him relax his grip on you. Feeling his body relax under your touch, you nod again, and Minghao tilts his head back to press his lips against your forehead before sighing. 

“Good girl. We’ll keep you safe.”

Minghao rests his hand on the small of your back as he watches you kick your shoes off in the entryway of the penthouse. You glance up, hearing Jun’s voice along with another you didn’t recognize. Turning to look at Minghao, he leans his head to the side, gesturing for you to go on as he lets out a breath, hearing how annoyed Jun was. 

“Of course it’s Park Bonhwa. Don’t ask stupid fucking questions, Wonwoo. I pay you to be smart and get shit done.” 

Looking up at you and Minghao as you move into the living room, Jun narrows his eyes at Minghao before he meets your eyes and sits up, extending his hand for you. You look towards the dark haired man sitting across from Jun as he pushes his glasses up his nose, his eyes avoiding yours as if he knows not to look at you for too long. 

Taking Jun’s hand, you take a breath, feeling his thumb press into your palm. You watch as his brows lift, his eyes studying you, moving over every inch of you that he can see as if looking for any signs of injury. It’s only when he is satisfied to see you in one piece, with no damage, that Jun gently tugs at your hand, guiding you to sit down next to him.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry about your place, darling. Use my card to buy what you need, okay?” 

You sigh, leaning into Jun’s touch as his fingers move over your cheek as if he has forgotten who was in the room, or more like he doesn’t care. Minghao pushes his tongue against his cheek, moving to the armchair near where you and Jun are sitting. You turn to meet his eyes, pulling away from Jun only slightly to do so, causing the man holding your hand to purse his lips. 

“I don’t sue people, Wonwoo. I get even. He’s always been pathetic, but this is a new level of low.” 

Wonwoo leans back on the sofa, glancing over to meet Minghao’s eyes as Jun speaks. He didn’t disagree with anything that he had learned or that was being said, but it wasn’t as black or white as Jun was trying to make it out to be. Shaking his head, Wonwoo drums his fingers on his thighs, tilting his head, before he looks back over towards you and Jun. 

“He has his fingers in a lot of pots. His casino looks reputable, so I can’t touch that, but... we know that the—” Wonwoo laughs into his words, repeating Jun’s back to him, “‘trash’, had weaknesses. They were at your bar for a reason, right, Minghao?”  

Shifting beside you, Jun lifts his hand, stopping Wonwoo and Minghao before they start. There was too much business talk with you present—too much that you didn’t need to know. There were still plenty of things that Jun was trying to protect you from. Both men freeze at just Jun lifting his hand, waiting for him to turn and look at you, a smile on his lips as he brushes his fingers over your cheek. 

“Go get my card off my desk and the laptop. I want you to go into the bedroom and shop.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shake your head. You knew what Jun was trying to do. You wanted to know what was going on. You didn’t want to shop and be sent away as things were whispered just out of earshot from you. 

“I—no. I don’t want to. Just talk. Why can’t I stay? I wanna know what’s going on, Jun. They fucked up my apartment. They took pictures of me and my family. I deserve to know!” 

Minghao glances down at his hands in his lap as you dare to raise your voice at Jun. He didn’t disagree with you, but he also didn’t disagree with Jun. He understood why Jun was keeping you in the dark for so much of this. Jun was trying to keep you pure and fragile. Minghao was just worried that if he kept you fragile for too long, you might shatter.  

Clenching his jaw when you raise your voice, Jun tightens his hand on your face, his thumb pressing against your jaw as his fingers hold your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. He could feel you try to turn from him, but he wasn’t going to let you. He knew you were upset, and maybe another day he would allow it, but today wasn’t the day for it. Today wasn’t the day for you to get bold and have strong opinions. 

“Shut up. Don’t raise your voice at me again, understand me? I adore you, Y/N, but I won’t take that shit. You have no goddamn idea what’s going on or what I’m doing for you. So do as I told you and I’ll explain things later.” 

Your heart sinks into your stomach when Jun tells you to shut up. You have mixed feelings about the man sitting in front of you and what he is saying to you. On one hand, you are furious that he would talk to you like that, especially in front of other people and on the other hand, you find yourself feeling bad for yelling at him. He was right; you didn’t understand and you should be grateful, but how were you supposed to understand if he never told you?

Loosening his grip on your face, Jun watches as your eyes widen only for a few seconds before you nod and lift your hand to wrap it around his wrist. He wasn’t trying to be an asshole to you; he was trying to protect you, even if that meant protecting you from yourself. Leaning in to brush his lips over yours, Jun sighs softly before he pulls back and lets go of you completely. 

Sitting for a moment longer, you let your eyes move past Jun to Minghao, who runs his fingers over his lips. Feeling your eyes on him, he glances up to meet yours before looking away quickly. It was clear who was in charge in the room and it wasn’t him or you. 

Jun watches you do as he told you to, the door to his office opening, the sound of you moving around for a few minutes before you come back out with a laptop against your chest and his black card in your hand. You walk past the men, meeting Jun’s eyes as he gives you a wink and gestures towards the bedroom. 

You knew he probably wanted you to close the door but you also knew that from the living room, unless he stood up and looked, there was no way for him to know. Sitting down on the bed with a loud exhale, you open the laptop and type in a clothing brand to the search bar as you strain your ears to listen to the conversation happening a couple of rooms away. 

Running his index finger against his lips, Jun furrows his brows, not hearing the sound of the bedroom door closing. He knew you were probably trying to be sneaky, thinking he wouldn’t know, but he also didn’t have time to deal with every little detail today. At least you weren’t in the room so close that you could catch every word. Turning his attention to Minghao, Jun narrows his eyes as his best friend takes in a deep breath, already ready to be berated for what had happened. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Leaning his head back, Minghao lifts his hands off the arms of the chair with a scoff. 

“That she wanted to get some more of her shit from her place and that I was with her so I could protect her. You aren’t the only one who gives a shit—” 

Stopping short, Minghao glances back over to Jun, who is obviously biting at his cheek. Taking in a breath to calm himself down, Minghao sits up straighter, leaning over his legs as Wonwoo chews at his lips, feeling like he shouldn’t be there for this conversation. 

“I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’ll run everything by you, always, from now on. Alright?” 

Jun waits a moment, letting Minghao sit in his fuckup, before he nods and looks back over to Wonwoo, who looked like he was trying to be anywhere other than where he was. He liked Jeon Wonwoo; he was a talented lawyer with less than pristine morals. He paid him well for those questionable morals and they were going to come in handy today. 

“I’m going to check on Y/N and then I want to go to the bar. Wonwoo, I want you to come with me. I want Bonhwa on the phone or in my office this afternoon. I’m tired of this bullshit.” 

Sitting up and lifting his right hand as if to stop Jun before he stands, Wonwoo shakes his head and laughs, obviously confused. 

“What— wait? You want to meet with him? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

Minghao knew that Jun didn’t like to be questioned. Minghao also knew that Wonwoo knew that so he wasn’t sure why the man would be asking that, but he watched Jun scoff, looking down at his hands as he ran his fingers over his rings. 

“I didn’t ask you for your fucking opinion. I told you what I paid you for. Get on your damn phone and make it happen. I’ll be back out here in about…” Looking at his watch, Jun shrugs a smirk on his face already knowing what he had planned. “Fifteen minutes, and then we can go. Minghao, you can stay here and babysit properly this time.”

Starting to speak, Minghao stops when Jun walks around him, slapping his hand down on his shoulder hard before moving through the kitchen towards the open bedroom door. Shaking his head, Jun leans against the doorframe, wondering how long it will take for you to realize he is there as you pout at the laptop in front of you. 

“Bought anything cute?” 

You had been trying to listen for more conversation, but it had gone silent. You hadn’t expected Jun to speak again so close to you. Jumping, you look towards him, lifting your hand to your chest in surprise, as if protecting your heart. Smirking, Jun moves further into the room, shutting the door behind him and pointing at it as it clicks closed. 

“You know how to do that, don’t you? Close doors behind you?” 

Rolling your eyes, you look away from him as Jun teases you. Your attitude amuses Jun, a smirk lifting at his lips as you turn your attention back to the laptop, clicking to add a few things to your cart without looking at them too closely. Now you are spending his money out of spite? He could already feel his cock getting hard. 

“Aw, Princess, are you that pissed at me? Making me have to correct how you talk to me, and now you are just spending money to spend it?” 

Looking up at Jun as you press buy, you lift your brow, not even looking at the total. You watch as his smirk grows and his head shakes. You needed an attitude adjustment. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy watching you spend his money; quite the opposite. In fact, he knew he could probably get off on it, looking over his bank statement, knowing that you had bought yourself nice things with his money, but doing it just to make him mad? 

“Close the laptop and slide it out of the way. You need a reminder of a few things, kitten.” 

Using your middle finger, you push the laptop closed as Jun chuckles in amusement, his hands already undoing his belt. He could see how you were looking at him. He could tell you were a fan of make-up sex, but that wasn’t what he was giving you. This was a punishment, you’d figure that out in time. 

“Lick your fingers.” 

Furrowing your brows, you pause for a beat until Jun lifts his brows making you rethink not listening to him. He watches you lift your right hand carefully, running your tongue along the length of your fingers as he pulls his cock from his pants standing in front of you. Running his fingers over your hair, Jun tilts his head knowing your eyes were on his cock, your lips parting wondering if you were going to ask him to put it in your mouth. You didn’t deserve it. 

“Hand on my cock, darling. You know what to do. Make me cum, maybe then I’ll know how sorry you are.” 

Wrapping your hand around Jun’s cock, you start to stroke him, only to stop at the last sentence he says. You were apologetic about some things, but not all of them. Starting to defy Jun, you loosen your fingers when his hand wraps around yours keeping you in place. 

“This little fucking attitude you have today… I’m really damn tired of it. I let you go out, gave you someone to go with you and you used him to go the one place you knew I didn’t want you to go. Use your hand, Y/N or I won’t give you a fucking thing.” 

Your breath quickens, your thighs pushing together as Jun looks down at you. You could see the disappointment and lust in his eyes. It was a strange mix, but it was making you feel so many things. You wanted him to forgive you, for it all. You were mad that you had upset him and you wanted him to make you feel good too. 

Using your hand, Jun strokes himself a few times before letting you take it back over. You circle his tip with your palm, earning yourself a groan from his throat, before you quicken your pace, wanting to get your prize. 

“Fuck, much better. See how good you can be? When you wanna be good?” 

Biting at your bottom lip, you whine, shifting on the bed, trying to get some relief from the ache between your legs. You can feel how wet you’ve gotten from just jerking Jun off, listening to his lewd groans, and feeling his eyes burn at your skin as he stares at you. 

“Ah–yes! Hold it tighter, shit… stick your tongue out, baby.” 

Doing as you are told, you look up at Jun, feeling his hand wrap around yours again, putting more pressure around the base of his cock when you feel warm cum hit your tongue, lips, and chin. Leaning his head back, he smiles as his cock starts to soften in your grip. Sliding your hand under his, Jun shivers, feeling your fingers move over his head, his cum coating your fingers before he takes a step back, pushing himself back into his pants. 

Looking down at your hand, you bring it to your lips, licking it clean for a moment, until you realize that Jun isn’t moving over to you. You watch as he uses the mirror on the dresser to fix his hair and jacket before clearing his throat. Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Jun grins at your shocked expression. 

“What? Horny? You can wait. I’ll be back in a few hours. Hao is going to stay with you. Be a good girl.” 

Your eyes follow Jun out of the room, a smirk on his lips as he moves back into the living room to find Wonwoo’s eyes attempting to stare into the coffee table. Minghao simply glances up at his best friend, rolling his eyes and letting a scoff slip from between his lips. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

Shrugging, Jun rolls his shoulders, looking over to Wonwoo gesturing for the man to move. 

“Did you call him?” 

Nodding, Wonwoo gets to his feet quickly, his fingers moving to push his glasses back up his nose as he tries to keep his composure after hearing Jun’s loud groans. 

“I…yeah I did. He’s gonna be there in an hour. Said he wants a sample of your product for his time. I told him I’d see what I could do.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jun glances back to Minghao as he grabs his keys, lifting his hands in question. Standing up, Minghao nods, and lets out a breath, taking out his cellphone and pressing on Mingyu’s name before putting the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, boss is coming in. No, shut the fuck up. I’m not bringing the wagon back. Listen to me, you fuck! The new product is in, on my end, a gram, nah, two. Put it on his desk.” 

Nodding at Jun, Minghao sighs into the phone as Mingyu continues, even as Jun and Wonwoo close the door behind them. 

“The fucker that—” 

Stopping when he sees you standing in the kitchen with a scowl on your face, Minghao clears his throat and furrows his brows, turning away from you. 

“He’s got an appointment. Get your shit together and watch his back. He’s got the lawyer with him, so you know how fucking useless he is. I don’t give a shit if you like him.” 

Running your tongue along your teeth, you cross your arms, moving to lean against the end of the kitchen island, watching Minghao closely. You hadn’t exclusively promised to be good when Jun had told you to and he had left you in a less than ideal situation. You watch as Minghao shakes his head, putting his phone back into his pocket, his fingers running through his longer black hair before he turns back to look at you, his eyes moving over you from head to toe, finally landing on your eyes. 

“Why do you look so pissed? Didn’t you just get fucked?” 

The urge to throw something at Minghao is strong, but you can’t find anything at arm's length. Instead, you just stomp your feet and move towards the couch, falling onto it with a whine. Following you with his eyes, Minghao tilts his head before following you to sit on the arm of the couch, looking you over curiously. 

“Why the fuck are you being so dramatic?” 

Staring up at him, you can still feel how wet you are from Jun’s teasing. Your eyes move over Minghao’s face, his neck, and the low cut of his t-shirt under his leather jacket. You dare to let them move further to his black jeans, the slight bulge that you had always looked away from out of respect, but now you were so horny you could die. Maybe he was right, you were being dramatic. 

His brow raised, Minghao can almost feel your eyes moving over his body, but when they rest over his lap, he can’t help the smirk that pulls up at his lips. Maybe Jun hadn’t fucked you. Was that your problem? Had he left you all hot and bothered? 

Minghao knew he should respect you and Jun, especially the latter when it came to boundaries. He knew that Jun would probably kick his ass if he touched you, but maybe he could have a little fun. It was too tempting when you were looking at him like a five course meal and rubbing your thighs together. How had he not noticed that before? 

“Ah…aww, doll. Did he leave you untouched? What did he do? Let me guess... from the sounds that were coming from that room, I’m gonna assume he got his rocks off, but he didn’t let his little kitten cum.” 

Your eyes widen at Minghao’s words as you sit up on the couch, sliding your legs up towards your stomach. Were you that transparent? Of course, you were. It wasn’t like you were being inconspicuous with how you were looking at Minghao and you were panting like a cat in heat. 

Laughing under his breath, Minghao slides down to sit on the couch, sliding his legs apart just enough that he wonders if you would picture yourself on your knees between them. He wonders if you would let him fuck you if he asked. Were you that wound up? He had to keep himself in line. Walk it but never cross it. 

“Shut up…” 

Your voice is so quiet that Minghao can’t help but lean closer to hear you better. You take in a deep breath and his cologne almost makes you moan. Biting your bottom lip, you look down at your knees as Minghao lifts his eyes to look at your face, his fingers brushing over your cheek, amused to find your skin hot under his touch. 

“Isn’t that what Jun told you to do earlier? Is that what he did? Shut you up with his dick? Is that all it takes? A little cock and you straighten up your act.” 

Leaning back from Minghao’s touch, you listen to him laugh again, his finger extending so he can tap your nose. Crossing his leg over his knee, Minghao takes a deep breath before sliding his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. Now he was going to ignore you. Granted, he did have a few messages from Mingyu and Jun, but he could also see you shifting beside him. It was cute to watch you squirm. 

“Oh my god, doll. Did he say you couldn’t fuck your fingers or something? Or is that an unspoken rule? You are killing me. Making me feel bad for you.” 

Whining, you cross your arms and turn away from Minghao. No, Jun hadn’t said specifically that you couldn’t take care of yourself, but you had a strong feeling that it was an unspoken rule. He had told you to be good, but it was getting harder and harder to figure out how to walk that line and again, you hadn’t promised. 

“I—he told me to be good.” Sighing into your words, you glance back over to Minghao as he smirks at his phone, answering a message from Jun. “You smell good, Minghao.” 

Lifting his brow, Minghao glances at you from the corner of his eye, hitting send on his text before lowering his phone to his lap. 

“That so, doll? You so horny you are gonna try to fuck the help?” 

Minghao watches your lips tighten into a frown. You shake your head, your brows furrowing tightly. You apparently didn’t approve of what he had said. 

“You aren’t the help. Why would you call yourself that? You are Jun’s best friend. You are his most trusted—whatever it is that you do at the bar. I just know that you are important to him. You are important to me. Don’t call yourself the fucking help.” 

That hadn’t been the point of what he was trying to say, but your words make Minghao swallow hard. He had been trying to tease you more, but now his mouth felt dry. He was important to you. You thought he was important to Jun. He was trying not to let that go to his head. 

Jun pushes his tongue into his cheek as he flicks his finger against the baggie held between his thumb and forefinger. Mingyu had done exactly what Minghao had told him to do. There had been two gram bags on his desk when he had walked in, but looking at them now, he knew he wasn’t giving some piece of shit, low-life both of them. His eyes lift to Wonwoo, who sits across from him in one of the leather chairs as he slips one of the baggies into his jacket before leaning back in his chair, lifting his hands out of impatience. 

“I’m getting real fuckin’ tired of waiting, Wonwoo.” 

He had started to complain, Wonwoo shifting in his chair, ready to take the heat, when a knock at his office door drew Jun’s attention towards it. Sliding his hand down to his lap, Jun reaches under his desk for the .45 hidden in a holster he had fitted to the underside of a drawer. He didn’t know what to expect after all the bullshit that had happened, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Come in.” 

Mingyu pushes the door open and gestures for the man to go in. Lifting his brow towards Jun, Mingyu uses his facial expression to ask the question he wants answered without words. Jun simply gives the man a nod to let him know he is okay, but he watches as Mingyu narrows his eyes at the back of Park Bonhwa’s head, pulling the door shut, leaving it cracked as he stands outside of it. 

Looking around the room, Park Bonhwa grins, taking it all in. He was mildly successful. He owned a casino and ran a nice little underground operation of his own. Granted, it wasn’t as “clean” as Jun’s, but that was why he had sent his men into the Moonlight Lounge in the first place. He wanted to know where Jun got his coke, where he got his guns, and how he kept his nose so fucking clean. 

Meeting Jun’s eyes, Bonhwa lifts his brows before looking over to Wonwoo, chuckling under his breath. That was half of the answer to his questions. A good lawyer who could sweep shit under the rug. He knew who Jeon Wonwoo was and he knew what Jeon Wonwoo could do in a courtroom. 

Sliding into the chair next to the lawyer, Bonhwa gestures towards the baggie in front of Jun as he sucks on his teeth. That was, hopefully, the answer to another question. The cocaine looked clean. It didn’t look like it was cut with anything, which meant Jun was making bank off of pure product. 

“That mine? You being that stingy with it, Wen?” 

Rolling his eyes, Jun picks up the bag between two fingers, tossing it towards the end of his desk, letting Bonhwa have to reach out to stop it from falling to the floor. Narrowing his eyes, Bonhwa scoffs, holding the bag up to the light before opening it and dipping a finger into the powder. 

“That’s a gram that I’m giving you from the generosity of my heart when you deserve nothing. I should beat your ass into the ground, but I don’t like getting blood on my clothes. I hate blood on my shoes.” 

Smirking at Jun’s gall, Bonhwa presses his pinky to his tongue, tasting the coke with a tilt of his head. He knew he could get more for this than he was getting for the meth he was running out of the casino, but meth was cheaper and it was hard to find something this pure without an in. 

“Such a bitch when I’m the one holding the cards. You can’t touch me and you know it. You fucked me over. Three of my best guys, dead because of some little bitch. So now what do I gotta do?” 

Wonwoo starts to speak, hearing the sound of the holster under Jun’s desk click, but Bonhwa tsks, moving his jacket to show Jun his own gun. Closing the baggie in his hand, the man slips it into his jacket and glances at Wonwoo with a smile before looking back at Jun. 

“I’d have his brains on the wall before you got that gun from under your desk and even if you managed to shoot me, you think I don’t know where your whore is?” Bonhwa unholsters his gun, laying it in his lap, his thumb flicking the safety off as he leaves it pointed in the direction of Wonwoo. “I had them take her pictures from her apartment for a reason. Her face is in the hands of every single man on my payroll.” 

Jun’s jaw tightens, his eyes on the gun in Bonhwa’s lap, as Wonwoo’s fingers tighten on the arm of the chair under him. Cursing under his breath, Jun moves his hand from under his desk, showing the man in front of him that he didn’t bring his gun with him so that he wouldn’t kill his lawyer. 

“Your men touched something they shouldn’t have. Can you blame me for protecting something that belongs to me? You’d react the same way.” 

Nodding, Bonhwa flicks the safety back in place but keeps his gun on his lap, looking back over to Jun. 

“You took three from me. Three for one woman. Doesn’t seem fair now, does it? The way I see it, you owe me an eye for an eye.” 

Jun narrows his eyes, watching Bonhwa smirk, a laugh slipping from his lips as he adjusts in his seat, lifting his hand to gesture towards him. 

“Or something of equal value. Information perhaps, like where your product is shipped in from.” 

Wonwoo meets Jun’s eyes and gives him a quick shake of his head to tell him to keep that information to himself. Jun starts to speak when Bonhwa’s hand moves quicker than his, the gun smacking Wonwoo across the side of the head with a deafening thud. Moving to his feet quickly, Jun hears the door open as Bonhwa laughs at being pulled up from his chair by Mingyu. 

With his hand to his head, Wonwoo blinks as blood runs down his face, his glasses in his lap, listening to the sounds of fists hitting muscle. He groans at the pain radiating through his head and face as Bonhwa laughs through his own pain before Jun tells Mingyu to stop. 

With his hand in Bonhwa’s shirt, Jun pulls him close, putting his own gun against his jaw as Mingyu pins him against the wall. He wants to pull the trigger, but he knows what problems that could bring him. There was enough happening right now, but if he killed Park Bonhwa, his entire organization would come down on him and he wasn’t prepared for something like that. 

“I will give you nothing! Do you fucking understand?!” 

Reaching into the man’s pocket, Jun takes the baggie out of it, throwing it on the ground as he pushes Bonhwa into Mingyu’s chest, taking a step back from them both. 

“Not my information and not my woman. Get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you again, if I see any of your men, it’s on sight. That’s your last fucking warning, Park.” 

Laughing still as he’s dragged out of the building, Bonhwa grunts when Mingyu pushes him against the side of the Cadillac. Pulling the gun from his side, when two men step out to help their boss, the large man points the weapon at them and gestures with his head towards the bleeding man. 

“He got his warning; now I’ll give you yours. Stay the fuck away from the bar and from Mr. Wen, his employees, and associates. If you get near Miss Y/L/N again, I’ll stick my gun up your ass.” 

Narrowing his eyes at Mingyu, one of the men starts to take a step forward when the other shakes his head, pointing towards Bonhwa, who groans in pain, holding his side. 

“Sounds like he’s got some broken ribs. Take your daddy home and patch him up.” 

Inside Jun’s office, Jun hands a bottle of whiskey to Wonwoo as he takes a knee in front of him, pushing his head up to look at the damage. He had already thrown the gun he had taken from Bonhwa on his desk with the intention of letting Wonwoo keep it. Clearly, the man needed to learn how to take care of himself. 

Taking a sip of the alcohol, Wonwoo hisses as Jun pushes on his brow. Jun could feel the bone shift under his thumb so he knew there was a problem. 

“Probably a fracture. I’ll have Mingyu take you to my guy. He’ll get you patched up… I’ll uh… fuck— I’m sorry.” 

Shaking his head, Wonwoo winces as he tries to open his eyes, feeling already too swollen to open fully. It wasn’t the first time he had been hit, but it was the first time he had been hit by a gun. He knew the path he was taking was dangerous, but the money was worth it. 

“I’ll live. Make today worth my fucking time.” 

Nodding, Jun helps Wonwoo to his feet, leaning his head back, and gestures for Mingyu to come in and help him. He watches as Mingyu slides his arm under the lawyer's, helping him walk in a straight line out of the office. Running his hand through his hair, Jun glances back at the gun on his desk and sighs. He would get it to Wonwoo another time. Right now, Jun just wanted to get back to you. 

The couple of hours that Jun had been gone had been full of tension for you and Minghao. Between the teasing on his part and the fact that you couldn’t seem to get your mind off the idea of the teasing becoming a reality, you were worse off than you had been before Jun left. So by the time he walked into the living room, you were on your knees on the couch, happy to see him, only for your smile to fade at the annoyed look on his face. 

Shaking his head, Jun takes off his jacket and tosses it onto the table before falling back on the couch on the other side of you as Minghao’s eyes fall to the table. Minghao had kept what he knew about the meeting with Park Bonhwa a secret from you. He had done exactly what Jun had wanted and babysat you. He had kept you distracted so that you wouldn’t ask questions, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t know the meeting had gone sour. 

Turning towards Jun, you look him over and finally lift his hand into yours, pushing your thumb over the bruising skin. Things hadn’t gone well; one glance back at Minghao and how he was avoiding your eyes told you that he already knew. Why was everyone keeping things from you? 

“What happened? Are you okay?” 

Jun offers you a half smile, turning his hand in yours to run his fingers along your wrist before he pulls you towards him so that your body rests against his. He didn’t want to talk about Park Bonhwa anymore. He didn’t want to talk about the bar or what had happened. He didn’t want to think at all. He just wanted to let go. 

Leaning towards the table, Minghao picks up the baggie that had fallen out of Jun’s pocket, holding it in his palm, before glancing over at his best friend. He knew that Jun would sometimes test the product, sometimes just for recreational purposes, but he hadn’t expected him to bring it with him today. Things must have gone very badly. 

Seeing Minghao move, you look back at him and then to his hand at the baggie with white powder. You had seen bags like that at the bar. In particular, you had seen them on the table of the men who had tried to hurt you, but you didn’t know they had come from the bar. You were starting to realize that maybe you were being naive. There was a lot of money that came into the bar and it had to come from somewhere. 

“What’s that?” You try to think of different drug names, tilting your head as you reach for the baggie, only for Minghao to keep it from your reach. “Meth?” 

Scoffing, Jun looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve offended him. Leaning forward, he puts out his hand for Minghao to put the baggie into his hand. Once he has it, he holds it between his fingers and lifts his brow, looking at it in the light. 

“Meth is for poor people, darling. People who sell that are weak and desperate. This is cocaine, sophisticated and pure. I like pure things.” 

Minghao knew that Jun wasn’t really upset with you. He knew that Jun was talking more about Park Bonhwa and his business. You had no way to know who sold what when you didn’t even know the real ins and outs of Jun’s business. 

Furrowing your brows, you look at the baggie in Jun’s hand before sitting back and trying to understand what he was telling you. You had never done drugs in your life. You drank some, but even that was social. You were starting to understand what Jun had meant by this world breaking you. It was a lot darker than you realized, but you wanted to understand it. You wanted to understand Jun. 

Looking over at Minghao, Jun purses his lips, seeing how close he was sitting to you. He hadn’t even noticed when he had gotten back. He hadn’t assessed the situation, but clearly something had happened while he was gone. Lifting his brow, Jun tilts his head, leaning back, to give you a good once over as he watches your ears practically smoke at how hard you were thinking. 

“Baby, don’t worry so much. This isn’t part of your job. Your job is to look pretty and keep up with me. Keep me on schedule. You don’t need to understand what’s behind the curtain.” Smirking, Jun watches you pout as he lifts his hand to push his thumb against your chin. “What I wanna know is if you had a good time with Hao while I was out.” 

Shrugging, you glance over to Minghao as he takes a deep breath and looks away. He had been so confident before Jun had gotten home. You were having fun with him. He was teasing you and you were flirting with him; now he was acting like a scared puppy. 

“Kinda… I like spending time with Minghao, but you are both mean to me.” 

Jun smirks at your words, a curious look on his face as Minghao looks up, suddenly shifting a bit nervously at what you might be telling Jun. Lifting his hand to stop Minghao before he starts, Jun runs the fingers of his other hand along your thigh as he nods for you to continue. 

“Tell me what you mean. How are we both mean to you?” 

Deciding to just bite the bullet, you sigh, feeling Minghao’s hand slide against your leg, trying to grab your wrist in an effort to ask for mercy. The look in Jun’s eye tells you that maybe he doesn’t need that mercy. 

“Well, you left me wanting after I helped you. I think that was very mean.” 

Jun grins, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he shrugs. Taking a breath, he drops his lip as he lets out the breath with a sigh. 

“You need a punishment. You need to be reminded that if you have a smart mouth, you don’t get what you want, kitten. But tell me, how was Hao mean to you?” 

Glancing over your shoulder at Minghao, Jun smirks at him as he gives him a pleading look, asking for forgiveness before you even speak. Jun wasn’t stupid; he could feel the tension in the room. 

“He teased me. He knew I was suffering and that I’m needy but he just teased me the entire time that you were gone. Made me want to break rules and... you know.” 

His brows lifting, Jun can’t help the amusement on his face. He wasn’t mad at Minghao for teasing you. He probably would have given him permission to do it if he had asked to, but what was most amusing was that you avoided saying what you wanted. Leaning towards you, Jun grabs your chin gently, brushing his thumb across your lips as Minghao swallows hard, watching carefully. 

“I don’t know; tell me. What did he make you want? What rules did you want to break?” 

You can feel yourself getting wet all over again. Your thighs push together as you whimper, leaning into Jun’s touch but also feeling the desire to reach back for Minghao, knowing he was so close. 

“I—well. He made me want him. You said I belong to you, but I want him too. I wanted to sit on his cock while you were gone and stop feeling so empty since you didn’t give me anything. You were so mean.” 

Running his thumb down your lip, Jun chuckles at your confession and how Minghao groans in frustration, afraid of how he will react. Glancing over your shoulder at the other man, Jun meets his eyes and lifts his brow in question, causing Minghao to open and close his mouth a few times before his shoulders sink in defeat. 

“Fuck… Yeah, she’s not lying. I teased her. I knew what I was doin’. I’m sorry, alright? I can get the fuck out.” 

Starting to stand up, Minghao furrows his brows when Jun leans over you to grab his wrist, pulling him back down. 

“I didn’t tell you to fucking leave. Sit your ass down. My kitten wants your cock, Hao.” Smirking to himself, Jun glances at you to see your reaction before he looks back at Minghao. “I upset her. She said I was mean to her. We can’t have that. I need to make it up to her. So I think I should let her have what she wants, don’t you?” 

Minghao lets out a breath, trying to wrap his head around what Jun had just said to him as he feels you settle back into the couch. Your cheeks were on fire. You hadn’t expected Jun to actually act on what you had said, and so quickly, but here you were sitting between the two of them. 

Shaking his head, Jun watches you and Minghao, a laugh slipping from between his lips as he moves his hand from Minghao to your jaw, turning your face towards him. 

“If this happens, there are rules. I don’t share easily. I think you both know that.” 

Nodding, you bite at your bottom lip, drawing Jun’s eyes down to your lips as he smirks. He could see Minghao shifting behind you. If the man didn’t want to participate, all he needed to do was get up and leave, but he had a feeling he would stay right where he was until he was told otherwise. 

“Hao will wear a condom and he won’t cum in your mouth or on you. Don’t even ask for it. Understand?” 

You whine out a small yes, and Jun coos at you, tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly at how innocent you appear. He knew you weren’t innocent, but you were pure to him, and he planned on keeping you that way. Looking past you to Minghao, Jun lifts his brow, meeting the other man’s eyes before Minghao nods in understanding. 

“Good, as long as we all understand who’s house this is and who Y/N belongs to, we can go play. I think it will be a fun night. I could use some fucking fun after today.”

Letting go of your face, Jun swipes the baggie from the couch and puts out his other hand for yours. Looking up at him, you look a little apprehensive until you meet Jun’s eyes and he nods. You knew you could trust him. It was a strange feeling. You didn’t even really understand why you trusted him. You didn’t understand why you wanted to or why you felt the way you did about him. All that mattered was that you did and that made it easy to take his hand and stand up. 

Minghao closes his eyes for a moment, running his hand over his mouth, before watching you with Jun. He wanted this. He wanted it more than anything. He had wanted you since the day you had interviewed with Jun, but then he saw the look in Jun’s eyes and it was confirmed by Jun’s words. Then Minghao knew—or thought he knew—you were off limits. Now he was looking at your outstretched hand as you beckoned him to join you and Jun. It was too good to be true, but he wasn’t going to give up the chance, even if it was a one time thing. 

Giving the guest room a quick appraising look, Jun drops your hand before sitting at the top of the bed. You stand at the door with Minghao, hand in hand, as the two of you watch him curiously as he opens the nightstand, taking out a strip of condoms and laying them on top of the nightstand next to the baggie. 

Furrowing his brows, Jun scoffs at seeing you and Minghao standing like statues in the doorway. Rolling his eyes, he leans his neck from side to side with a groan as he gestures for you to come to him. 

“You both act like you haven’t done this before. Come here, baby. You need to loosen up.” 

Pouting, you kneel on the bed in front of Jun as he pouts at you, furrowing his brow and teasing you with faux concern at the tense look on your face. His fingers trail over your cheek down to your jaw before his fingers reach your throat, making you swallow hard. Leaning forward, Jun’s lips brush over yours, a smile pulling up at his lips when he hears how your breath hitches from just a simple kiss. 

“Are you that touch starved? Did I rile you up that much before I left?” 

Nodding to the words spoken on your lips, you whine Jun’s name, reaching up to wrap your hand around his wrist, trying to pull him closer as you push your lips against his. Jun laughs on your lips before pulling back with a sigh, leaning to glance at Minghao in the doorway. 

“And Hao didn’t touch you at all. What an asshole.” 

Tsking at his best friend, Jun smirks, watching Minghao scoff and roll his eyes. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch you. He knew what Jun was doing, and now his cock was straining against his jeans at the sight of you on your knees on a bed. Lifting his hand, Minghao sighs, running his hand through his hair as Jun claims your lips once again before pulling back, causing you to whimper at the loss of his kiss. 

“Minghao, come here and touch her. It’s what you both want. I’m giving you both a gift tonight. Don’t waste it or my time.” 

Swallowing hard, Minghao nods, taking a few steps to kneel on the bed behind you as you glance back at him. Just the heat of your eyes on him has him cursing under his breath and his hands running along your sides, pushing your shirt up your back. 

"I—fuck, you are so pretty, doll.” 

Smiling at Minghao’s words, you lean back into his chest and his touch so you can feel his breath against your ear. Groaning, Minghao meets Jun’s eyes, getting a nod before he tilts his head and presses his lips to your neck right under your ear, earning himself a soft, happy moan from your lips. 

This wasn’t the first time Jun had shared a girl with Minghao before, but this time was different. You were more important. You were different. Watching Minghao’s lips move over your skin sends Jun’s thoughts racing. Some were very good, and others were possessive and bordering on obsessive. Jun knew that if it were anyone else, he would have killed them for even wanting you, but it was Minghao so that made it something he could handle. 

As Minghao slides his hands along your stomach, Jun makes a soft sound drawing Minghao’s attention to him. Leaning back, Minghao moves his hands, seeming to understand without words, exactly what Jun wants. You whine breathlessly, not wanting either of them to stop, until you feel both sets of hands undressing you. Both sets of hands are similar, yet you can tell that Minghao’s have more calluses as they scratch at your skin just a bit more roughly. Jun’s fingers are more familiar, but you can feel the possession behind the way he grips at your body, pulling you a bit closer to him as Minghao’s fingers undo your pants, his lips pressed against your bare back. 

“My beautiful little kitten is getting spoiled tonight. You like having two men touch you, baby?” 

You meet Jun’s eyes, nodding to watch him smirk at you. His thumbs and forefingers roll your nipples between them as Minghao lifts at your hips so he can tug your pants down your legs, a soft groan escaping his throat at the sight of your ass. Jun chuckles at both you and Minghao’s reactions, his eyes falling to his hands as he nods in appreciation of the view in front of him. 

“Then you can listen closely tonight, can’t you? Be a good little slut for Daddy.” 

Fingers slide around your hip, pulling you back against Minghao. You can’t help but let out a moan, your brows furrowing to the feeling of his bulge, still trapped behind his jeans pushed up against your ass. Jun lifts his brows as he waits for you to answer him. His fingers squeeze your nipples as your back arches against Minghao’s chest and you nod frantically, whining out “yes”. 

“That’s all you had to say, Y/N.” 

Minghao grins against the back of your neck, speaking between kisses. He was feeling more like himself and bolder with each passing minute. He could feel you wiggle your hips back against his cock and just knowing how badly you wanted him made his ego soar. He knew he could follow Jun’s rules, and he’d do what he had to do to get his cock inside of you. 

Jun grins watching you with Minghao, the way your skin erupts with chill bumps at his words and how you nod again, agreeing with him. You were being a very good girl for them both. Sitting back, he lets Minghao get the rest of your clothes off until you are sitting bare in front of them, your cheeks warm as your eyes move from either man, both still fully clothed. Jun just chuckles under his breath as you start to cross your arms to gain some of your modesty back before he lifts his hand, pulling your arm down as he shakes his head. 

“Why would you hide how fucking perfect you are?” 

Whining, you look him over as if that should answer his question, but one look at his face tells you that he wants words. 

“You and Minghao are still dressed. It’s not fair…” 

Moving his hand to your chin, Jun leans to press his lips against yours softly, making you relax. He could feel you pouting against your lips, wanting to get your way. Using his free hand, Jun moves your hand to his shirt, the button resting over his chest, feeling you smile against his lips as he lets you undress him for the first time. The way your hands shake as you undo the buttons makes Jun chuckle against your lips until your head drops so you can see what you are doing. The eagerness is evident in the way your breath hitches and you move closer to him, tugging at his shirt to pull it open. 

“Careful, kitten. Don’t scratch me.” You whine his name, trying to get Jun to stop teasing you as he smiles, running his fingers over your hair. “Do you want Hao to get undressed too?” 

Nodding, you glance back to Minghao, who smiles at you, lifting his hand to run the back of his index finger over your cheek as your fingers rest on Jun’s pants. 

“You are spoiled. I never thought I’d see Wen Junhui spoil a girl so rotten.” 

His brows raised, Jun tilts his head at Minghao as you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much. Tugging down his zipper, you lift your eyes to meet Jun’s eyes, finding him watching you carefully. 

“Is that true? Do I spoil you?” 

Jun lifts his hips, letting you help him pull his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers as he waits for you to answer him. Glancing back at Minghao, you start to chastise him for getting you in trouble with his words until you see him significantly less clothed than he was a few minutes earlier. Your eyes move over his toned torso and down to where his thumbs rest in the top of his boxers, a smirk on his face while he waits for you to answer Jun. 

You stumble over your words, finding your mind going blank, only thoughts of Jun and Minghao filling it back up until Jun turns your face back towards him. You feel his fingers press against your jaw as he coos at you, finding the blank expression on your face cute and desperate. 

“Answer me, darling.” 

Shaking your head, you try to scoot closer to Jun, sliding over his thigh so that your wet folds meet his skin. Jun hisses into a groan at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you tight, not letting you get any relief. 

“Maybe Hao is right.” 

With a surprised breath, you find yourself on your back, your wrists pinned to the bed as Jun hovers over you, his knee pressed between your thighs. Arching your back, you rub your lips together as you shake your head, trying to argue. You want to prove that both of them are wrong, but as soon as you can’t feel Jun’s thigh close enough that you can rub yourself on his skin, you manage to do the opposite. A whimpered cry slips from your lips and Jun grins, his thumbs sliding along your wrists to keep you calm. 

“My spoiled little princess is already crying before she’s had any cock.” Glancing over his shoulder towards Minghao, Jun lifts his brows and tilts his head towards the nightstand. “Just wait until you hear her while she’s stuffed full of one.” 

Groaning under his breath, Minghao slides on the bed towards the nightstand to swipe the strip of condoms from it. Tearing one off, he tosses the rest to the side as his breath quickens at Jun’s words. He could hear your moaned sobs as Jun teased you, and the idea of hearing you be even louder as he fucked you was driving him crazy. 

You close your hands into fists, trying to plead with Jun to touch you as you wait for Minghao to put on the condom. You knew Jun didn’t need or want one, so he could so easily slip out of his boxers and bury his cock into your aching pussy... But he only nods to your begging, feeling his cock twitching hard as he practices patience. 

“Shh..shh… kitten. Are you that empty? Do you need it that badly?” 

Fingers slide through your wet folds and a moan echoes off the walls at the same time as a groan is suppressed behind clenched teeth. Jun knew you’d be wet. He had felt you on his thigh, but feeling just how wet you were after all the teasing as he pushed two of his fingers into you—that was enough to make his cock leak in his boxers. 

“Fuck… I don’t think I even need to stretch you. You are so damn wet. Are you that excited about having us both?” 

Turning your head, you feel your check burn at Jun’s question, but slender fingers turn your face back towards him. Minghao lifts his brow and you hear Jun laugh as the other man’s thumb pulls at your bottom lip. Your eyes move from either man until you finally meet Jun’s eyes as tears run from the corners of your eyes. You clench around his fingers as he slides a third finger into you, his teeth catching his bottom lip and biting down lightly, waiting for you to answer him. 

“Y–yeah. Ah! Jun… please? Please, please… Can I cum?” Licking your lips, you search Jun’s eyes for your answer, but when he doesn’t answer right away, you push him further. “Daddy… please?” 

Minghao smirks when you call Jun Daddy. He listens to the way his breath changes, a groan bordering on a growl rising in his friend’s chest as Jun puts his thumb against your clit and his forehead against yours. You were good at getting what you wanted. Minghao wasn’t sure if you even meant it or if you were just using the name to get what you wanted, but either way, it was hot, and you were getting exactly what you were asking for. 

With your mouth falling open and Minghao’s hand falling to your throat, you find it hard to make any sound when you cum. Nothing over a gasped breath of a moan makes it out of your lips as your cum seeps around Jun’s fingers. Closing your eyes and feeling your head spin almost as if you are going to pass out from the intensity of your orgasm, you scratch at Minghao’s arm, feeling his fingers lightly tighten around your throat. He wasn’t like Jun when it came to putting his hand on your throat. If it had been Jun’s hand there, you knew it would have felt like danger in the most sinfully erotic way; but Minghao’s hand felt like a necklace, keeping you grounded to the bed as you soared. 

Jun groans, sliding his fingers from your tight walls, feeling your body start to relax under him. He knew you wanted more and that you needed more. Glancing over to Minghao, Jun smirks, seeing his friend’s lips parted as he takes in deep breaths, obviously trying to keep himself in check until he is told he could do more. 

You lean your head back against the pillows, reaching out for Jun’s arm when you feel him sit up on the bed. Your eyes follow him when he lifts his hips to push his boxers down and he swipes the baggie from the nightstand. 

“I’m feeling generous.” Jun’s eyes meet yours, his smirk pulling back up at his lips as you tilt your head, curious to hear his words. “I’m going to let Minghao fuck you first, baby. Let him see what he’s been missing out on.” 

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, Minghao runs his fingers through his hair when you look over at him. You were stunning. He could see where the tears had run along your temples from where you had cried in pleasure from your first orgasm. He could feel his cock almost aching from how hard it was at the idea of being inside of you and being the reason you’d cry again. 

“Does that make you happy, kitten?” 

Jun watches you and Minghao carefully before turning his attention to the baggie in his hand. Opening it, he turns on the bed, running his fingers along your leg to pull your knee up so that your thigh is exposed and your legs are spread. Not only could he have his way with you in this position but he also knew that Minghao’s eyes were on your pussy now. 

He could almost see the man’s mouth watering at the sight of your wet folds. You whine out his name before nodding, your fingers reaching for Jun’s wrist once again, only for him to shake his head and pull away so he can keep doing what he has his mind set on. 

“Good girl. I like making you happy. I guess I do spoil you.” Meeting your eyes, Jun bites his bottom lip and lifts his brows as if to make sure you are paying attention to him before he continues. “Keep your leg just like this. Keep being my good girl.” 

Running his fingers along your other thigh, Minghao furrows his brows, watching Jun. He had a good idea of what was going to happen, but knowing and seeing were another thing altogether. Taking a deep breath, Minghao shakes his head as Jun taps the baggie against your inner thigh, leaving a small, thin line of powder on your skin. While he didn’t partake in what he sold, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t appreciate the visual or the sentiment. 

Your lips part in a small, surprised gasp when you feel Jun lean down to snort the line from your thigh. Without much thought, you run your fingers through his hair, your skin erupting with chill bumps as his nose brushes along your skin. With a small, satisfied groan, Jun hovers over your leg, taking a deep breath in from his nose and feeling his head start to rush. Smiling as the feeling of euphoria spreads over him, Jun presses his lips against your thigh before once again meeting your eyes. 

“You are so fucking perfect... Mmm, you wanted to fuck Hao?” Nodding to Jun’s question, as he moves up your body, you smile as he lays over you, his lips hovering yours. “I’ll give you anything you want, princess.” 

You could see how Jun’s eyes had dilated. You knew that there were limits to what he would give you on a normal basis, but you hadn’t been with him like this before. Right now, Jun was looking at you like you were his world. You could feel your heart beating hard in your chest as his hands ran along your sides and his lips gently pressed to yours between words. 

“My pretty angel. I’m gonna watch you fall apart for him and then I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” 

Pulling back from you, Jun leaves you breathless from just his words before he gestures to Minghao and you barely have time to think. Hands slide along your hips as Minghao pulls you on the mattress towards him and kneels between your thighs. Leaning down over you, he smirks at your surprised expression, running his right hand between your breasts as he traces the trail of your tears with his left thumb. 

“Is that what you’re going to do, doll? Fall apart for me.” 

Nodding quickly, you listen to Minghao laugh almost darkly as his lips glide along your cheek before he finally presses his lips to yours. The kiss doesn’t last for nearly as long as you want it to, his lips pulling away from yours, making you chase him for more. Running his fingers over your hair, Minghao smirks at how eager you are. Yes, he wanted you, but it was powerful to feel your body shiver under his every time he would pull away from you. 

“Please, oh my god. I can’t take it.” 

You finally close your eyes, tears on the rims of your eyes as you feel your walls clench around nothing. Minghao smiles, his finger tracing your hard nipple as you arch into his touch. He knew you weren’t his, but he could pretend, even if it was just for a short time. Jun cocks his head to the side, his eyes focused on Minghao’s hand as he presses his thumb against your nipple, pulling a moan from your mouth. He knew that Minghao wanted to tease you for longer, but his heart was racing, his hands tightening into fists at how thirsty he was already feeling for you. Impatience was starting to kick back in for him. 

“If you don’t fuck her, Hao... I’ll show you how it’s done. Stop teasing— put your fucking cock—” 

Meeting Jun’s eyes, Minghao is the one who gives the warning look this time. He knew Jun wasn’t in the same state of mind that he had been when the three of you had gotten into bed. Lifting his hand, Jun rubs his nose hard, leaning back with a groan of annoyance, pushing the same fingers through his hair. Minghao just shakes his head as you run your fingers up his arm out of some concern, a look of curiosity in your eyes. 

“He’s fine. He’ll get all that energy out once I’m done. He said he was being generous, now he can wait and watch.” 

Smirking at how your eyes widen. The confidence that he was displaying even in front of someone that you had seen reduced him to something resembling an obedient puppy.  It had your pussy almost weeping for him. 

“You can handle this, can’t you?” Tilting his head, Minghao’s smirk pulls into a full grin as his hand pushes your knee up towards your stomach. You feel the stretch in the back of one thigh as he repeats the process with the other leg and puts your hands on the back of your knees. “‘Course you can, doll. Stay still.” 

You start to question him, but any question you have leaves your head along with any thoughts when Minghao lines his cock up with you and buries himself in you in one smooth motion. Closing your eyes, you dig your nails into the back of your legs as you let out a soft, crying moan. 

The stretch isn’t so much that you are in pain. You can tell he isn’t as big as Jun, but that didn’t seem to matter that much because his cock was long and he knew what he was doing. With each deep, slow thrust, Minghao manages to let the tip of his cock push against your g-spot. 

Finally, you take a deep breath and the tears he had hoped to see slip from your eyes start to stream along your temples once again. Minghao groans your name at the sight. He feels his stomach tighten, his pace picking up, and the sound of skin meeting skin loudly bouncing around the room. 

Licking his lips Jun tries to swallow, but his mouth is so dry he can only groan, shifting on the bed, wanting to get closer to you. He wanted to be patient, but one more sobbing moan slipped between your pretty lips as he tugged on the bed so he could lean on his arm next to you. He was so thirsty, but looking at you, he knew that you’d somehow take care of it all. 

Familiar fingers tighten around your jaw, turning your head to the left as you open your eyes. Meeting Jun’s intense gaze, you whimper his name as Minghao thrusts into the hardest that he had the entire night. Your orgasm rips through your body as Jun’s lips brush over your lips. He works his kisses towards your lips with a groan as Minghao’s fingers bruise your ass with how hard he holds you. 

Leaning his head back, Minghao curses into a groan, feeling you clench around him. You were so tight, it was hard to move. Now he had to work that much harder to fuck you the way he wanted to; you were driving him to the point that he was going to follow you right over that edge. 

Groaning your name, Minghao watches Jun lay back, a smirk on the man’s lips after the rough kiss. The moment your eyes meet his, Minghao loses any control he once had. His movement becomes messy, each thrust deep and hard as he cums hard, wishing the condom keeping him separated from you was gone. 

Trying to catch his breath, Minghao moves your legs down and around his hips as he lays over you. You gasp, feeling his hips roll towards you so that his cock is as deep as he can possibly be before he comes to a stop. You smile against Minghao’s lips, your nails pressing into the back of his biceps when he nips at your lips before slowly pulling back from you. 

The absence of Minghao sends a shiver through your body. Chill bumps spread along your skin and Jun smiles, running his fingers along your collarbone, marveling at the sight as Minghao moves off the bed. You were all his again. Jun was trying to give you a moment to come down from your orgasm, but the more his eyes moved over your body, the more he felt like he was going crazy. 

Sliding over the bed, Jun smirks at hearing you sigh out his name. Leaning down, he presses his lips to your stomach, his hand pushing your hip back down as you try to arch off the bed towards him. 

“You just got fucked and you are still acting like a bitch in heat.” 

Your cheeks burn as Jun degrades you, his eyes meeting yours from between your legs. You can’t help the chill that runs through your body at how intense he looks, his eyes darker from how dilated his pupils are and how hungry he looks. Fingers scratch over your soft skin, as Jun sits back on his knees, his hands finally resting on your hips, his eyes still locked with yours. 

"Kitten, you are always so fucking pretty. Have I told you that?” 

Starting to look away, you hear Jun tsk in warning so you keep your eyes on him. The bed sinks beside you as Minghao lays back, resting on his elbow, watching intently. He knew Jun had been waiting for this moment and he would be lying to himself if he hadn’t been waiting for it a bit himself. He enjoyed watching. 

“It’s true. I used to watch you all the time at the bar, but this... baby, you are the prettiest when you are on your back for me.” 

Your lips part at Jun’s words and his confession. You hadn’t noticed him looking at you, but you had also kept your head down. You had tried for months to keep yourself off his shit list, when perhaps you should have been enjoying his eyes moving over your body. 

Seeing the realization clicking in your eyes, Jun laughs and lifts his hand, rubbing at his nose as he shakes his head, feeling it spinning. He needed to do something with all of this pent up energy and you were right here, waiting to get fucked again. He had promised to fuck you hard, and he planned on keeping that promise. 

Leaning over you, Jun slides your hands up the bed, grinning down at you as he lifts his brow at your reaction. You wanted to touch him and he knew it. You had been the same way in his office, but he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. This was still his house and you were his to use as he saw fit. 

“Hold her arms.” 

You look up as Minghao’s hands take the place of Jun's, pinning your wrists to the bed. Giving a small test tug just to see if Minghao would let you go, you pout when he shakes his head at you, keeping a firm grip. Your attention is brought back to Jun when his hands pull your legs up so that your ass rests on his thighs, your knee almost at his hips. 

Biting at his bottom lip, Jun moves his hand from your hip to his shaft, pushing himself down so that his tip rubs between your wet, swollen folds on the way to your waiting entrance. Warmth wraps around him as Jun rolls his hips to meet yours. At first he keeps his thrusts shallow and slow, but watching you arch off the bed, trying to roll your hips down to take more of him, does something to Jun. The corners of his lips pull up into a cocky smirk as he uses his hand still on your hip to pull you down over him like a toy. 

The stretch of taking Jun reminds you just how much bigger he is than Minghao. Gasping through a moan, you try to scratch at Minghao’s hands as Jun continues to move you over his cock, harder and faster. You feel your brain start to go fuzzy, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let him use you and you just let go completely.

Whimpered groans slip between Jun’s lips as his jaw tightens almost to the point where it’s painful as he clenches his teeth, feeling his climax right on the edge of a cliff. It’s as if he is looking over at the rocks as waves crash over them, but your velvet walls are sucking him back in, keeping him warm, and pushing him to hold out longer. 

“So fucking good. Baby, you’re perfect. Gonna cum for Daddy?” 

Nodding, you tug at Minghao’s hands as your eyes move over Jun’s torso and his hands as they rest on your waist. You want nothing more than to grab at his skin and feel him under your fingertips but Minghao holds you tight. Sobbing into a moan, you arch your back off the bed and push down over Jun’s cock as you cum around him. Your mouth falls open and your body is completely pliable when your brain goes blank during your orgasm, just a toy for Jun to take his cum. 

His eyes move over your body, your skin glistening with sweat as soft moans slip out of your mouth and into the air like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Jun shakes his head, feeling himself starting to lose momentum as he fills you with his cum. His hands start to shake against your hips with a few final hard thrusts that send you towards Minghao. Falling over your body, Jun whispers your name against your ear, a smile on his lips when he feels you nod, letting him know you are okay. 

Letting go of your hands, Minghao watches you weakly move them to Jun. He furrows his brows, following your fingers through Jun’s hair and over his shoulders as you hold the man laying on top of you. You had been gentle with him after he had fucked you, but this was different. You were tender with Jun and he was the same with you. Suddenly, Minghao was feeling like he was intruding somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. 

Swallowing hard, Jun groans, his head starting to ache as the high that he had been riding starts to crash. Rolling off of you, he sighs, lifting his hand to run it over his face as you watch him concerned. You turn on your side carefully observing him as he licks his lips and makes a face like he’s tasted something bad in the air, his eyes still closed. 

“His mouth is probably dry as fuck.” 

Furrowing your brows, you look up at Minghao as he leans back against the headboard. You didn’t know anything about what Jun had taken, but clearly he did. Sighing softly, Minghao slips off the bed and out of the room towards the kitchen. You turn your attention back to Jun, wondering if you need to get up and get him some water, when Minghao comes back into the room with a bottle of water, making your chest tighten. Clearly, he had done this before. 

Sitting up, you reach out for the water, taking it from Minghao. Making an unsure sound, you look at Jun lying flat on the bed and Minghao chuckles, rolling his eyes. 

“Let me move him into the bed and get his head on the pillows. He’s gonna pass out, but... he’s fine, alright?” 

You weren’t so sure, but you just nodded, trying your best to help Minghao move the larger man up in the bed. You take charge of pulling the sheets from under him and placing them over his body as Minghao adjusts a pillow under his friend’s neck. Pouting to yourself, you open the bottle of water as you lean over Jun, putting the bottle to his lips and letting him take sips of the water. Your eyes meet Minghao’s a few times before you finally smile and let out a slow, long breath.

“Thanks. I guess I’m kinda useless when it comes to this.” 

Shaking his head, Minghao moves to the dresser, taking out a pair of spare pajama pants and slipping them on as he glances back at you and Jun. He knew he could just leave, but he didn’t want to. You looked like a lost bird and Jun could be a bit unpredictable coming down. No, he’d stay, at least until he knew that you’d both be okay without him. 

Sitting back on the side of the bed near you, Minghao leans down to pick up his cell phone that had fallen out of his jeans to read over a few missed texts as you fuss over Jun. At least nothing had burned down, metaphorically or physically, in the time he and Jun had been busy. 

You look up at him curiously, hearing a sigh of relief before your eyes move to his phone, watching his thumbs move over it quickly. You knew there was more going on than Jun was willing to tell you, but Minghao was a bit more forthcoming. Of course, that had been before the apartment fiasco and getting his ass chewed out by Jun, but maybe if you approached it right... 

“He’s been so stressed out. I guess this was good for him. Ya know, to just let go? Not worry about the bar, all the shit that’s going on there.” 

Lifting his brows, Minghao scoffs, thinking your words were an understatement. Writing one more reply to Mingyu, he sighs and glances over to you as you put the lid back on the water, putting it on the nightstand, as Jun snores quietly beside the two of you. 

“Mm, yeah. He doesn’t do shit like this often. He doesn’t go crazy with it either, but shit has been fucked up lately.” 

Nodding, you run your fingers over Jun’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead, before sliding off the bed, feeling Minghao’s eyes following you. Gesturing towards the door, you smile and tilt your head to the side. 

“I’m gonna get some clothes and something to eat. You wanna join me?” 

Giving one last glance to Jun as he sleeps a bit restlessly, Minghao frowns before giving you a nod. He could hear his stomach growling and he could use some water himself after everything that had happened. 

Slipping one of Jun’s shirts over your head, you feel the end of it rest just under where your shorts end. You stretch your arms as you move back into the kitchen to find Minghao sitting at the island, his head turned back towards the guest room where Jun was sleeping. From where he was sitting, with the door open, he could keep an eye on him. You feel your lips pull up into a smile before you force yourself to relax and clear your throat. You loved how close he and Jun clearly were. You had never noticed it before, but there was something about fucking them both that made it easier to see. 

Looking over to you as you clear your throat, Minghao gives you a half smile, lifting a fresh bottle of water to his lips as his eyes move over you from head to toe. He knew you were wearing Jun’s clothes, but he didn’t hate it. You looked cute in them. 

"So, what’s for dinner?” 

Your lips pull back up in a smile as you turn towards the fridge, opening it up so you can lean against it looking at the choices. Taking out the milk, you show it to Minghao before reaching up for a box of cereal. You watch the man’s half smile turn into a full grin before he laughs and nods approvingly at your choice. 

“Alright, chef.” 

Cereal is in front of you and Minghao, and you join him in occasional glances towards the guest room. The restlessness that had been evident before seemed to have calmed as Jun lay on his back, one arm across his stomach, the other threatening to fall off the side of the bed. Minghao watches you for a moment, bringing his spoon to his lips to take a bite of his cereal as your brows furrow watching Jun. 

“You’re whipped.” 

Your cheeks burn hearing Minghao’s words, even muffled by food as he chews. Meeting his eyes, you scoff and shake your head, trying to play off how you feel, but even you know that you feel something for Jun. If you didn't, you wouldn’t let him keep you “safe” and in the dark. 

“Whatever… He grew on me.” 

Smirking, Minghao rests his spoon against his lips before sighing as you take a bite of your own cereal, eating it quietly. He starts to let his guard down before your next words cause him to take a deep breath and his eyes to fall back down to his bowl. 

“Minghao? Tell me what’s going on. What happened today? Please?” 

He knew he could tell you no. He knew he could tell you to ask Jun, but he also knew Jun wouldn’t tell you. He knew that Jun would tell you that it was safer not knowing, but Minghao was starting to wonder if that was true. You not knowing was going to make you complacent. Not knowing is what made you walk up to the idiots in the bar the way you did in the first place. Being in the dark about everything is what made you feel safe enough to walk to your car alone after saying what you did to them. 

“Uh… he—fuck, Y/N. He’s gonna kick my ass, but listen, alright? I think you should know. It’s better to know what you are up against so you can avoid it.” 

Your brows furrow as you lean towards Minghao, waiting for him to continue. You weren’t sure if you agreed with his logic any more than you agreed with Jun’s. They both wanted to treat you like some little lamb. Yes, you had been terrified after what had happened to you in the parking lot, but after what had happened to your apartment and what you were seeing happening to Jun, you were pissed. You needed to understand it before you could really see it. Your eyes couldn’t be closed anymore. 

“I’ll deal with Jun. I do need to know. It involves me, but it’s also fucking everything up. I fucked it all up.” 

Reaching out to take your wrist into his hand, Minghao is quick to shake his head. His eyes fall to where his thumb glides over your skin at your pulse point. He knew he shouldn’t be touching you while Jun was asleep, but after what had just happened in bed with you, he felt maybe he could get by with just a little. 

“You didn’t, doll. It wasn’t your—shit… I won’t lie. You shouldn’t have gone up to those fuckers without knowing who and what they could do, but that doesn’t make this your fault.” Minghao sighs into his words as you turn your hand in his, letting him have better access to your skin. “Jun met with their boss today. That’s the man who wants your head on a stick. He blames you for three of his idiots not walking around today.” 

You try to picture Jun meeting with someone who could be in charge of the men who had attacked you and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. Anyone who could be worse than those men... you didn’t want someone around Jun, you didn’t want him around Minghao, and you didn’t want him around the bar. The thought passes through your head, but then you remember that Jun is just as frightening. 

"I—well, he’s not wrong, but why did Jun—” 

“Fuck that, Y/N!” Looking over to where Jun turns in bed when he raises his voice, Minghao furrows his brows and lowers his voice before continuing. “No, they would have gotten into some shit and ended up the same way on their own with or without what happened that night. It was just a matter of time.” 

Sighing, you just nod, closing your fingers around Minghao’s. You knew he was probably right, but it still didn’t change how you felt. It was getting easier for you to understand that people died around Jun and Minghao. You understood that they were probably going to die around you if you stayed in this world. You just needed to understand why. Tilting your head, you lift your other hand, gesturing for Minghao to continue getting a nod. 

“Anyway, he met with him. His name is Park Bonhwa. Don’t look him up; don’t look for him. I’ll know if you do.” 

As if reading your mind, the warning makes you sit up as Minghao’s eyes meet yours. You can only press your lips together as his eyes search yours, waiting for you to nod. Only when he is satisfied that you understand does he look back towards Jun and continue with his story. 

“You know he took Wonwoo, the lawyer. I know Mingyu was there; that’s how I know most of this. I just know it went bad. Wonwoo got hurt, but he’s alright. He’s alive…” 

Your hand tightens around Minghao’s and he sighs, knowing that piece of information would make you upset. You didn’t even know Wonwoo, but you were a caring person. That was why he wanted you to avoid all this, and that was why Jun shut your eyes. 

“Jun beat the shit out of Bonhwa and Mingyu threw his ass out. They warned him to leave you alone and I think he got the message.” 

Looking in the direction of Jun, you remember how red and swollen his knuckles were when he came home from the bar. You remember the dried blood and cracked skin and your stomach tightens. While you feel some fear for Jun, you also feel a sense of pride knowing that he was not only doing it for you but also defending Wonwoo. 

“And Wonwoo? Is he okay?” 

Smiling to one side, Minghao shakes his head when your first question isn’t about Park Bonhwa or about how they know he will stay away, but instead about your concern for Wonwoo’s health. Your kind heart shows through the tough exterior you were trying to build. 

“He’s alright. Mingyu took him to Jun’s doctor. Got him patched up, and I’m pretty sure he’s on a retreat so he can heal.” 

Lifting your brows, you try to imagine what Minghao means by his last words. You knew it had something to do with Jun and that the lawyer was probably somewhere very nice and being taken care of very well. The idea of that makes you feel much better about the situation. 

“That’s good. I’m glad he’s being taken care of. I’d like to see him again once he’s feeling better.” 

Sliding his fingers along your palm, Minghao chuckles under his breath as he leans back in the bar stool chair before nodding. 

“I’m sure he’ll be around the bar in a couple months.” 

Meeting his eyes, you smile, having had so many of your questions answered. You still feel a weight on your chest that Jun wasn’t the one to tell you, but the strength of knowing lets you breathe. Leaning forward, you feel Minghao freeze when your lips brush over his. At first, he doesn’t kiss you back until you meet his eyes at such a close distance and he knows you won’t take no for an answer. 

Your lips press against Minghao’s and you take in a deep breath through your nose when his fingers slide back over your hand to wrap around your wrist. The kiss is tender; it takes your breath away, but it is brief. When Minghao pulls away, you almost pout, but upon meeting his eyes, you know that he feels the same way. 

“Thank you for telling me everything, Minghao.” 

Minghao takes a deep breath to calm his nerves as he nods. He didn’t regret telling you, but he was already mentally preparing himself for the lashing he was bound to receive the following day. 

Jun’s head was busting, but turning to his side, he couldn’t help smiling. You were sleeping next to him. He was still in the guest room, and that meant you had chosen to sleep beside him. You could have gone to the bedroom the two of you had been sharing since he had brought you to his penthouse, but you had laid down beside him instead. 

You were beautiful. He had told you that many times, but today more so. The light from the window on this side of the building was able to peek through the blinds and it was playing against your skin. Jun furrowed his brows, letting his eyes follow the rays of light as they danced where he wanted to run his fingers. 

While he didn’t regret the night before, he knew that it would be hard to share you again. It would be a rare thing to let anyone else—Minghao included—be that close to you. Taking a deep breath, Jun scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to very carefully brush his index finger along your cheek. He smiles again, watching how your face scrunches up at the feeling. He wasn’t really trying to wake you up, but that desire to touch you was too much. He knew what he was feeling, but he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. He had never felt like this about anyone else before. 

You whine in your sleep, feeling yourself starting to wake up as Jun’s fingers move over your hair. It was a nice way to wake up. He wasn’t rushing you. You were warm and you felt safe. Slowly, your eyes open, and you can’t help but smile when the first thing you see is Jun’s face so close to yours. It wasn’t a horrible way to start your day, and it was becoming something you looked forward to. 

“Morning.” 

Humming in response, Jun traces the shape of your ear as he swallows hard, feeling how dry his mouth was. He couldn’t stay with you much longer like this, no matter if he wanted to or not. He needed something to drink and his stomach was growling to the point that your eyes were glancing down at the bed. Watching your smile turn into a laugh at the sound, Jun shakes his head, leaning forward to press his lips against your forehead before sitting up with a groan. He was sore. His hands felt stiff. His knuckles almost needed to be forced to move as bruises had formed over the night. 

Sitting up with Jun, you glance down at his hands before your pretty smile falls into a frown. Reaching for the hand closest to you, you take a breath, running your thumb over the cracked skin and hearing Jun wince. The adrenaline from the night before had made it easy for him to ignore the pain, but now it was evident—even if he wanted to pretend like he didn’t feel it. 

“I don’t blame you for doing it, but you need to clean your hands better. I know he deserved to have his ass kicked.” 

Jun’s brows furrow slowly as he lifts his head in confusion. Had he told you what happened while he was high? No, he hadn’t been that high. He would remember. Looking over at you, Jun pulls his hand from you, rubbing his knuckles hard as you sigh at him, unhappy that he is treating his hands with so little care. 

“Who deserved it? I’m fine, Y/N. I don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.” 

Watching Jun slide out of bed, you furrow your brows knowing exactly what he was doing. He was trying to hide things from you again. You thought if you caught him off guard with what you knew he would just tell you, not needing to be prompted to do it, but instead he was just lying. 

Following behind him, you cross your arms as Jun opens the fridge harder than necessary to take out a bottle of water. Tossing the lid on to the kitchen island, he meets your eyes as he quickly drains the bottle and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. He could see you were upset with him, but he wasn’t pleased with you. He was trying to figure out how you could know anything, but the more he thought about it, only one person came to mind, Minghao. 

“I’m not doing this.” 

Shaking his head, Jun watches you scoff, your eyes rolling as he turns towards the bedroom. Your eyes move over his bare body, noticing scars that you had either ignored before or hadn’t taken the time to really look at. Now your eyes were open and you were seeing everything. He had been through a lot more than you could ever really understand, but you wanted to. 

Jun tugs open his dresser, pulling out a pair of sweatpants, not looking at you as you follow him into the room. He had a feeling you weren’t going to give up, but that still didn’t mean he was going to tell you anything. The only thing on Jun’s mind was how badly he wanted to kick Minghao’s ass. 

Standing behind Jun, you watch him pull the pants up to his hips before you reach out to run your fingers over his hip, your index finger tracing a long scar. You find yourself wondering if the scar was from something as simple as an accident or if someone else had given it to him. The line was jagged and the more your imagination got away from you, you could almost picture it being made by a knife. A chill runs through your body, and your hand shakes as Jun’s hand rests over yours. 

“I want you to tell me things, Jun. I need to know what’s going on. I still work at the bar. I can’t sit in this fucking penthouse for the rest of my life.” 

Fingers tighten around yours as Jun scoffs. You were infuriating. Shaking his head, Jun turns to face you, dropping your hand as he walks towards you, watching you take a step back. 

“And why the fuck not? Do you seriously still not get it? If you are so goddamn smart and you think you already know so much because your buddy Minghao has given you all the details—” 

Jun stops for a moment when he sees your brows furrow, tears starting to coat your eyes. He  knew he was upsetting you, but maybe that’s what it was going to take. Leaning down to take both your wrists to keep you in front of him, Jun meets your eyes. 

“You don’t know shit. He barely knows what the fuck he’s talking about, Y/N. You are safe here! In these walls. I don’t want you at the bar!” 

Tugging your arms in Jun’s grasp, you feel your anger rising. The tears that had started to collect in your eyes spill over onto your cheeks from frustration when he keeps a firm grip not letting you get your way. 

“I–Jun! Let me go. What do you mean, you don’t want me there? I work there! You hired me to work there. I have to understand what—” 

“Fine! You’re fired!” 

You stop struggling and stand in front of Jun in shock when he cuts you off. You knew that he didn’t want to explain things to you and that he wanted to protect you but you never thought he would go as far as to fire you. You were good at your job. You loved working with the people at the bar. You weren’t close with your family so over time they had become like your family, and now Jun was keeping you from them. 

Jun watches anger turn to pain on your face as your tears flow more freely down your face. His heart was aching, but he needed to make you understand his way. Yes, Park Bonhwa had hopefully gotten his message, but he also knew that every single one of his men had your face in their hands. It terrified him because he lov— no, he couldn’t even think about it. 

“What did you just say to me?” 

Swallowing hard, Jun loosens his grip on you, trying to get his own footing as you make him repeat himself. It was harder the second time. 

“I–I said, you’re fired, Y/N.” 

Jerking your arms from Jun’s grasp, you pull from him as he watches, running his fingers through his hair as you start to move through the bedroom, picking up bits and pieces of your clothing. His heart was pounding in his chest; this hadn’t been what he wanted. He didn’t want you at the bar, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want or need you here. 

“Wait… baby. What—no. What are you doing?” 

Jun’s hand pulls at your wrist as you push your things into the bag that Minghao had brought for you the first night you had been brought to the penthouse. Pulling away from him again, you hear Jun’s breath get caught in his throat—almost the sound of a choked sob—but you don’t look at him. You were too busy blinking away your own tears and making up your mind. 

“I’m packing, Mr. Wen. What does it look like?” 

Hearing you call him Mr. Wen cuts like a knife. Groaning under his breath, Jun shakes his head and reaches for your bag this time, only for you to meet his eyes and for that look to stop him in his tracks. You looked furious and hurt. 

“If I’m no longer your employee, you have no fucking reason to make me stay. I can walk out the door. I don’t have any ties to you.” 

That was worse than his name. You were twisting the knife. Jun wasn’t sure if you knew how he felt about you, but those words were breaking him. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you try to push past Jun, tears dripping from your cheeks as he pulls you back against his chest, wrapping his arm around your chest. 

“You don’t have anywhere to go. Don’t do this, please? I—I’m sorry. I need…” 

Jun’s voice trails off and you feel his fingers tremble against your shoulder. You knew you could probably pull his arm down and away from you, but leaning back against his chest, you could feel his body shake. You had never seen or heard Jun cry. There was no way he was crying over you. 

“I can figure out somewhere to go.” Trying to look back at him, you see Jun close his eyes, turning his face away from you as if he’s hiding something. “What do you need? Finish the sentence.” 

Groaning, Jun lets you go, feeling you turn your body towards him. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but his cheeks were wet. You can’t stop yourself from frowning, you have to fight yourself to keep your hands at your sides as the urge to wipe the tears from his cheeks becomes strong. You were shocked to see him crying; it was breaking your heart, but it wasn’t going to change your mind, not if Jun couldn’t finish what he had started to say. 

“I–I need you. I need you to stay here.” 

The first part of Jun’s explanation makes your head feel light, almost as if you are going to faint. You take a breath to steady yourself. You had never been needed by anyone, especially not by someone like Wen Junhui, but hearing him admit it made you feel weak in the knees. The second part made your brows furrow, that seemed like what he had been saying over and over again. 

“I can’t just live inside this penthouse for the rest of my life and not be able to go—” 

“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby. Please, let me explain.” 

Jun’s eyes open, and his hands move to cautiously hold your arms as if he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him. This time he doesn’t force you to stand in front of him, but he guides you to stay watching and nod so he can continue. 

“I’m so fucking scared someone will hurt you and I won’t be there to stop it. I thought—I was hoping that by keeping you inside the house, you’d be safe and happy.” 

Your head tilts, your eyes narrow, and Jun lets out a whining groan, knowing that he is wrong. 

“I know; I see it now. You aren’t happy—not happy like I wanted. I just get so fucking obsessed with wanting to keep you safe because—well, because…” 

Lifting your brow, you watch Jun struggle with his words. He had always been so well spoken at the bar, even when he was yelling at someone. You had never seen him so tongue tied and unable to get his words to connect from his brain to his mouth. Shifting in his hands, you lift your hand to finally wipe at one of his cheeks with your thumb, and Jun almost melts at your touch. Leaning into your hand, he closes his eyes and lets out a soft, content sound, happy to feel your hand on his skin. He knows what he wants to say and what he needs to say, but it’s terrifying. 

“Just say it, Jun. This is what is driving me crazy. I can’t live my life around you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I can’t read your mind. I can’t understand things if I’m not told.” 

Nodding, Jun’s hand gently wraps around your wrist so he can turn your hand in his leaning to press his lips to the heel of your hand. This was going to change everything. You were changing everything. Jun’s entire worldview was on its head because of some innocent girl that he thought was cute and he decided to hire her. He just had to go and fall in love with you. 

“I’ll do better. I promise. Give me a chance. Don’t leave me. You can come back to the bar. I need you.” 

There was still so much left unsaid, but you were getting the feeling that they were words that he needed time to process and to say. The words that he was able to say were enough to make your shoulders relax and for you to nod. You just wanted to compromise with him. You weren’t trying to rebuild his entire world; you were just trying to be part of it. 

Moving his hands to either side of your face, Jun furrows his brows, watching your expression. Your eyes stay locked on his and Jun finally lets out a breath, not seeing any sign that you were going to pull away from him again. Leaning forward, he pushes his lips against yours, gently letting the kiss hopefully say everything he can’t seem to get out. 

The kiss is different. Jun doesn’t rush. Instead, his thumbs brush against your cheeks as his tongue glides along yours slowly. You find yourself having to wrap your fingers around his wrists to keep yourself steady as your head once again feels woozy. When you sway in his arms, Jun furrows his brows, only then pulling back to look at you to see your eyes still closed and your lips barely parted, waiting for another kiss. Smiling, he brushes his lips back against yours before pulling your bag from your shoulder and letting it fall to the floor as he walks you backward towards the bed. 

The back of your legs hit the bed before you feel Jun lay you back on the bed. His hand behind your head doesn’t let you fall; he rests one knee against the mattress as he lowers you down, making sure you never slip from his hold. Whispering his name, you start to slide your hands along Jun’s chest as he hovers above you, but remembering how every time you had been with him, he hadn’t let you touch him, you pause. 

Jun furrows his brows, seeing the uncertainty in your eyes and the way your voice wavers. There was something intimate about having someone touch you. That had been why he hadn’t wanted your hands on him often. He liked you too much. He had been falling in love with you too quickly and it scared the shit out of him. If he kept your hands off his skin as much as possible as he fucked you into a mattress or on top of his desk, then he couldn’t feel as connected to you. 

Looking at you now, as you lay under him, your lips parted as you took deep breaths. All Jun wants is your hands on him. Reaching for your hand, Jun lifts it and puts your palm against his chest, near his heart. You feel it beating hard and fast in his chest, almost faster than yours. Your eyes fall to where your fingers rest over Jun’s skin as you carefully move your hand before bringing your other hand up to run it along his side. You could really see each scar now; you could trace them with your fingers, but you could also count each mole and freckle. You were able to appreciate how beautiful Jun was without being told not to touch him or being rushed to do something else. 

Licking his lips, Jun feels chill bumps spread along his skin under your touch. You were being gentle, almost as if you were afraid he was going to make you stop. That wouldn’t happen again. He was yours just as much as he claims you as his own now. He should tell you that, Jun thinks to himself as his thumb glides under the borrowed shirt that had ridden up on your torso. Shaking his head to himself, he just smiles instead and meets your eyes before pressing his lips to yours once again, his hips rutting against yours, begging for relief. 

You had fallen for this man. You were breathless from his kiss and the way his mouth felt on your skin. You hadn’t let yourself admit it, not even when Minghao teased you, but as Jun’s kisses trailed along your jaw to your neck, you knew it was true. You couldn’t see yourself anywhere else but with him now. 

“Wanna do this forever.” 

Jun’s words make you clench around nothing; your thighs tighten around his hips. Groaning next to your ear at your reaction, Jun scratches his fingers up under your shirt, pushing it up your chest. If this were any other day, he would have already had you naked and split you open with his cock, but not this time. Jun didn’t make love, but he did this time. He would make love to you. 

“Sound so pretty. Sound like an angel, kitten.” 

Whimpering as Jun speaks, you lean your head back, scratching your nails lightly over his shoulders and feeling his fingers massage at your breasts. This was better than any other time that he had fucked you. Yes, all the other times had felt great, but you were already so wet that you were uncomfortable and Jun had barely touched you. 

“Don’t tease. Please, not today, Junnie.” 

The name slips out of your mouth before you even think about it. Pressing your lips together, you wait for Jun to get upset or have at least a negative reaction, but instead he leans back to look down at you, a smile on his lips. Leaning down, Jun pecks at your lips as his brows furrow curiously. 

“Call me that again.” 

Licking your lips, you watch Jun lean back, his hands pulling the shirt up and over your head so he can toss it behind him. 

“Junnie…” 

Chuckling under his breath, Jun shakes his head at how much he enjoys the sweet name on your lips. He hated nicknames and most pet names. They were degrading to someone of his standing, but this one coming out of your mouth made his chest feel light. 

You sigh happily when Jun’s lips brush over the top of your breast, his kisses moving slowly over your skin until he reaches your nipple. Lacing your fingers through his hair, your grip gets tighter when Jun’s tongue laps at your nipple, causing it to harden. So much of your time with Jun has been centered on him. Anything he had done at the end of the day had been to prepare you to take him, but now he was taking his time, almost worshiping you as he worked his way from one breast to the other. 

“Ah… feels good.” 

Grazing his teeth over your pebbled nipple, Jun smiles when you arch your chest towards his mouth. He hadn’t been lying when he said you sounded like an angel. Every moan and whimper out of your mouth was driving him crazy. He could feel himself leaking against the front of his sweatpants as he worked his kisses lower, over your stomach, and down to where your panties sat low on your hips. 

Glancing up at you, Jun watches you lift your hand to brush your fingers at your lips, trying to be quieter, only to fail to feel his warm breath fan across your panties. He didn’t want you to be quiet and he had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to once he got started. 

Using his index finger, Jun tugs your panties to the side, marveling at how wet your folds are. Carefully, he separates your lips using his thumb, letting out a soft groan as his eyes move from your clit down to your clenching hole. He knew how good it felt to be inside of you, and he wanted that more than anything, but he could be patient. Today, for you, he could do just about anything. 

When Jun’s tongue glides between your folds, you almost start to cry. Tears of pleasure sit on the rims of your eyes as you scratch the bedding under your hands. The warmth of his mouth, mixed with the fact that he clearly knows what he is doing, is enough to make you see stars. 

Stiffening his tongue, Jun wraps one arm under your leg, pulling you closer to his mouth as he furrows his brows to your taste. Pushing his tongue into you, he can’t help the deep groan that escapes his mouth and causes his mouth to almost vibrate against your pussy. Muttering fuck, against your folds, Jun shakes his head as he leans back to spit on your already soaking folds. Watching his spit drip down your skin, he smirks and is right back to what he was doing, his lips and tongue moving over your clit, making your thighs shake. 

When you cum, you don’t have time to warn Jun. You only have enough time to push your fingers into his hair and hold him tighter between your legs as you cry out in pleasure. Letting go of his head, you start to apologize when you feel Jun laugh, his lips pressing against your thigh. Shaking his head, he groans and turns his attention back to your pussy. Jun can feel your thighs shaking around his head as he laps at the cum dripping from you but he only stops when you whine and tell him it’s too much. 

"Sorry, baby, you taste so good. I should have done that earlier.” 

Covering your face, you feel your cheeks burning under his attention. Fingers work your soaked panties down your legs before Jun kicks his sweatpants off and to the side. Gently, he moves your hand from your face as he settles back between your legs, resting on top of you. He knew that you were shy, but, in his opinion, you had nothing to be shy about. 

Taking your hand in his, Jun presses his lips to the tips of your fingers before leaning to capture your lips with his own. You sigh into the kiss, only for the sigh to turn into a moan when you feel Jun push the head of his cock against your pussy. You are so wet that he slips in with much more ease than any time before, but the stretch still makes you tense up at first. 

Resting his forehead against yours, Jun groans your name quietly as he thrusts into you with slow and steady movements. You had gotten used to him being rough and quick, but now you were feeling every inch of him as he pressed his hips flush with yours with every thrust. Mouth falling open with a breathless moan, you close your eyes tightly, and Jun can only nod in agreement as you clench around him tightly. 

“Fuck, so perfect. Want you to be mine, kitten. I just—” Groaning, Jun buries his head against your neck, kissing up to your ear before he finally speaks again and says what he had been so afraid to say. “I just love you so fucking much.” 

The words both shock you and send you over the edge. Clinging to Jun, you gasp his name in a loud moan as he kisses your neck, letting you roll your hips over him to ride out your orgasm. Throwing your head back, your brows furrowed tightly, you watch as Jun follows your same patch a few moments later. Pushing back on his hand so that he isn’t laying on top of you, Jun holds your hip tightly with his free hand as he thrusts into you once more hard, filling you full of his cum. 

Moments pass silently, just quickened breath as you and Jun come down from your climax. You brush your fingers over his forehead, pushing his hair back from where it sticks to his damp skin as he licks his lips. Finally meeting your eyes, Jun almost looks shy, knowing you heard what he said. It wasn’t as if he had said it quietly and been in your ear. Seeming to know what the look is for, you smile and trail your fingers along the side of his face, stopping to brush your thumb over his lips, feeling him kiss the pad of your finger. 

“It scares me, but I love you too.” 

Jun furrows his brows at your wording. He could understand it. His world was a lot. You had already been hurt and seen or heard about others being hurt. It wouldn’t surprise him if you told him you never wanted to see him again after he kept you locked in his penthouse like some princess he wanted to keep away from the world. Instead, you were saying it back to him and his heart was racing so hard that he was afraid it might explode. 

“I—yeah? I mean, I’m scared shitless. So fucking scared. I’ve never said that to anyone before. I don’t wanna fuc—” 

Sensing Jun was rambling, you laugh and lean up on your elbows a few inches to press your lips to his to stop him before he really gets started. Jun’s lips pull up at the sides in a smile before he really lets himself give into the kiss. Turning on to the side, Jun pulls you with him, feeling his softening cock slip from you, knowing it would cause a mess, but he couldn’t find a reason to care as long as you were in his arms and his lips were on yours. 

After a few moments, you are the first to wrinkle your nose, and the sticky feeling becomes unbearable. Pulling back from the kiss, you watch Jun pout and lean his head to the side like a puppy being disciplined. Shaking your head, you smile, and your cheeks once again heat up at how sweet he was acting around you after all of the tough guy acts you had seen over the months of knowing him. 

“Um, we—well I need a shower.” 

Gesturing down at your body, Jun follows your fingers with his eyes before pursing his lips. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make it any less bothersome. If you needed a shower, he was coming with you. When you gasp next to his ear, feeling Jun’s hands lifting you from the bed to carry you towards the bathroom, he just grins and meets your eyes. 

“What? I thought you needed a shower. I need one too.” 

Sighing, you kick your legs a bit as if that should answer your question, but Jun leans to nip at your jaw before sitting you on the counter. Looking around the bathroom as Jun turns on the shower, you find yourself remembering the first night you had been in the penthouse and how this was mildly similar to it. You felt much better, but Jun was still taking care of you. He was starting your shower and keeping a watchful eye on you. 

“Thank you, Jun.” 

Humming out a confused sound, Jun looks at you as he turns back from the shower, testing the water on his fingers. The look on your face makes his smile drop a bit before he moves back towards you, stepping between your thighs. He could see there was something on your mind. 

“For what? What’s wrong?” 

Looking around, you shake your head and enjoy the feeling of his hands running along your arms. 

“For protecting me, bringing me here, and now for trusting me that I can handle it.” 

Jun sighs and leans his head towards you so his forehead can rest against yours. It was a terrifying thought, letting you into his world completely, but he knew you weren’t going to give up. He would just keep you safer by his side. Teach you how to protect yourself until he was sure you could do it. 

“Mm, thank you for staying.” 

READ THE BONUS SECTION ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[ellecdc]

MOTHERR

Happy Mother’s Day 💐🌷🤭

Anyways, the marauders brainrot continues….I know shocking 😮 , my obsession will never end at this point in time. Oh well, art is kicking my ass and I need something to bring back my spirt lol.

Sooo, could I perhaps, if possible, request a poly!wolfstar? In which;

There’s a party in the commons, after a quidditch match or sm (idk 😭?) and shy reader (preferably female) dresses in only Remus and Sirius’s clothes but somehow finds a way to make her own twist on it and she look beyond gorgeous, all decked out. She doesn’t tell Sirius or Remus and the two don’t realise how much of their clothes and ect. Untill the spot her at the party talking with the girls, and are both shunned because their shy girlfriend is all dressed up, showing skin, confident and all, and in their clothes only, not a single thing of hers.

-🍄

firstly, thank you so much for your mothers day wishes hahahaha I was spoiled for sure. secondly, thank you for your request!!

poly!wolfstar x shy!reader who surprises her boyfriends

CW: mention of drunk friends but no description of drinking?, sexual implications at the end but nothing described and SFW

Remus felt slightly guilty that he wasn’t downstairs to greet you when you arrived at the Gryffindor after party following their latest quidditch win.

The reason he wasn’t there wasn’t even a very good one; it was simply that Sirius always came back to the dorms to shower instead of showering in the team’s locker room and was always riled up (just the way he liked him).

In other words, it was selfish and self-serving.

Which was perhaps why he was currently rushing his boyfriend as he painstakingly styled his hair to look perfectly un-styled.

“Pads, you’ve flipped your hair seven times already, can we go?”

Sirius flipped his hair four more times as he let out a scoff. “Easy bubs; you know I like to be fashionably late.” He responded as he righted himself, shooting Remus a salacious wink in the reflection of the mirror on his dresser.  

“We’re going to miss the party altogether at this rate.” Remus muttered petulantly.

Sirius let out a noncommittal hum as he pulled the collar of his buttoned-up shirt lower in order to show off the new love bite on his neck from Remus, and a few older ones on his chest that you had given him in hopes no one else would see them there.

How wrong you would be.

“I could think of other things we could do instead.” Sirius offered as he stalked towards the chair Remus was currently pouting in and straddled his lap.

“You were the one who wanted to attend the party.” Remus pressed as he allowed Sirius to press lingering kisses along his jawline. “Neither me or your girl were very keen.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy if we took a raincheck.” Sirius responded as he continued his assault down Remus’ neck.

“Perhaps if she wasn’t already downstairs.”

That seemed to snap Sirius out of his ministrations as he looked at Remus incredulously. “Then what in the buggering fuck are we doing up here? Merlin’s saggy balls, let’s go Moony.” He barked as he stood abruptly and yanked Remus’ arm, forcing him to follow.

Remus was only slightly embarrassed that he had to adjust his trousers as they exited the dorm room.

As Remus had predicted, the party was in full swing by the time they made it down to the common room.

Peter was maybe three sips of whatever was currently in his red solo cup away from spending the rest of the night hunched over the toilet bowl, James was already completely ignoring everyone else around him in favour of staring love-drunkenly at Lily as she spoke emphatically to Mary, Alice and Frank were snogging to near pornographic levels in the corner of the room, and Marlene was passed out in Dorcas’ lap as she conversed with…you.

Just when Remus was certain he couldn’t love you more, your sweet, timid, lovely self showed up to a Gryffindor party on behalf of your extroverted boyfriend after they took their sweet ass time to join you when both he and Remus knew quite well that there were probably several hundred other things you’d rather be doing 

And not to mention when you show up looking like that.

“What is she wearing?” Sirius whispered on an exhale; his steps faltering as he took you in.

What were you wearing?

You looked to be wearing – “is that your button up shirt?” Sirius finished Remus’ thought.

And based on the fit and length, it appeared you were, in fact, wearing Remus’ dress shirt.

Though it was cinched at the waist by – “that’s your belt, Sirius.”

“That little minx is stealing our clothes, Moony.” Sirius laughed; equal parts exasperated and lovesick.

You chuckled at something Dorcas said before you turned your gaze to the rest of the party where you spotted your boyfriends.

“What are you wearing? Or should I ask who since you look like you ought to be on a red carpet or something?” Sirius asked in way of a greeting as he made for you, causing your shoulders to migrate upwards as you smiled timidly at them.  

“Hi, dovey.” Remus greeted you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and shot a wink at Dorcas who was already looking at the two of them knowingly.

“Your girl looks smashing tonight, boys.” She commented; taking a sip of her drink from one hand as she used the other to pet Marlene’s hair.

You, for your part, turned to Dorcas with a look of unadulterated betrayal.

“She looks smashing, always, Meadows; but I have to agree that I like this look, baby girl. Stand up! Give us a spin.” Sirius said as he pulled you up by your hands.

“Sirius…” You chided pleaded quietly as your eyes nervously darted to Remus as if screaming ‘help’.

“Humour me.” Sirius pushed; twirling his finger in a circle to reiterate his earlier demand.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms protectively around your middle but acquiesced to his wishes.

After a few wolf whistles and an actual round of applause from Sirius, and ooh’s and aah’s from Remus, you turned back towards them and Remus could almost feel the heat radiating off your face.

“You played a good game, Siri.” You commented instead of hello, or thank you, or sod off you wankers, which made Remus all the more smitten with you.

“That’s old news, gorgeous.” Sirius dismissed quickly, eyes still darting over your form as if committing this sight to memory. “I’d rather talk about you.”

“I’d rather not.” You argued quickly.

“Tie breaker votes talking about you, sweetheart; sorry.” Remus responded, not particularly sorry at all if it meant he got to keep looking at you.

You harrumphed quietly and looked down at your converse which seemed to be the only article of clothing you were wearing that belonged to you. “You guys are being mean.”

Both boys immediately started cooing and apologising profusely; Remus pulling you protectively into his side as they fussed over you.

“Can’t believe I was upstairs all this time staring at Sirius when I could’ve been down here looking at you.” Remus commented quietly into your hair, but from Sirius’ indignant squawk, he was clearly overheard. 

Your responding smile was well worth it though. 

“Are these my earrings?” Sirius asked then, pushing hair behind your ear to expose the dangly star and moon earrings that Sirius had bought back in fifth year when he and Remus first started dating. 

“I thought it looked good with the ‘fit. I had a vision.” You admitted; tone still shy but words far braver than Remus thinks he’s heard from you with this many people around. 

“And you were right.” Remus agreed readily. 

“The vision was great babes; it’s like I picked it out myself.” Sirius said with a wink. “The only thing better would have been if you showed up in only your knickers.” He stated with finality; seemingly proud of his proclamation and of his girlfriend. 

Remus was expecting you to flush horribly at that as your eyes darted nervously around you.

Except you didn’t.

Instead, a mischievous grin spread across your lips as you looked up at the boys in front of you.

“They didn’t go with the vision.”

Both boys stared at you with varying levels of bemusement as Dorcas let out a snort behind you. 

“What didn’t go with the vision?” Sirius accused quickly. 

“Knickers, you tosser.” Dorcas answered from behind you. 

Remus felt a blush of his own take over his face as he realised you had been waiting down here for your boyfriends looking like that without anything underneath your ensemble.

“Are you serious?” Sirius asked stupidly.

“No, you’re Sirius.” You giggled as if you made a truly funny joke, cluing Remus into the fact that you had these boys exactly where you wanted them.

In the palm of your hand.

“Better make a move quick, Black.” Marlene slurred as she rose from the dead sleep and blinked at the boys owlishly - one eye beginning to open before the other had even shut. “Otherwise we w- we will.” 

Remus barked a laugh as Dorcas lovingly rolled her eyes and tried to tame Marlene’s now unruly bedhead, but Sirius appeared to take the threat earnestly as he quickly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your surprised squeak and subsequent protests as he raced up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. 

“Quickly now, Moony.” Sirius called as he took care to cover your arse with one of his hands lest your ‘Remus’-shirt-turned-dress’ were to ride up. “Can’t believe I let you waste all that time getting ready when our beautiful, gorgeous, lovely girl was waiting for us.” 

Remus rolled his eyes as he followed the sounds of Sirius’ faux chiding and your squealing laughter, wondering if Sirius’ diligent eleven flips of his hair was worth attending a party for four and a half minutes.

[buckyalpine]

TW: drugging, sa, Bucky x protective reader

I’m in a whumpy angsty mood where I want everyone, I mean EVERYONE to be protective and caring over Bucky, taking care of him and making sure he’s okay.  

TW: Sexual assault (not reader), drugging

Bucky takes a sip of his drink and immediately knows something isn’t right. He doesn’t get drunk, he can’t. So why did his entire body suddenly feel lax and his vision hazy. He blinks a few times, trying to focus but it only makes everything worse, his skin feeling warm. 

“Doll?” He tries to get up and look for you, only to stumble as he gets out of the chair. The rest of what happens in a blur when a pair of soft hands help steady him. 

-

“Has anyone seen Bucky?” You come around to the lounge area in search of your favorite super soldier, surprised when he wasn’t sitting with the rest of the team either. 

“Thought he was with you” Steve looked confused while Sam smirked; everyone knew the way Bucky trailed behind you like a lost puppy, so it was strange that you of all people, didn’t know where he was...

“Last I saw him was....he’s gone” Nat frowned, seeing the bar stool not only empty but also knocked over. 

“Where could he be” You scanned the room once more, feeling uneasy when you still couldn't find him. “Let me go check his room” You decided to make your way up to the elevator while Nat followed just to be safe, the both of you surprised to see the door slightly ajar. 

“No” 

The muffled sound coming from his room made your heart race faster, his strained voice barely audible. 

“Please, no” 

You saw red, striding over to his room, bursting through the door, gasping when you saw a woman straddled on top of him, her hands working at the buttons of his shirt. Her eyes grew wide, yelping when you ripped her off him, throwing her to the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You spat, punching her across the jaw, your knuckles connecting with her teeth causing your skin to split while she cried out.  

“Well-well he wanted me too!” The woman spat causing another surge of anger to flow through you, lunging for her again. 

You were ready to tear her to shreds but a soft whimper pulled you out of your rage. You turned to see Bucky’s tear streaked face, waiting for you to hold him. Nat nodded for you to go to him, grabbing he woman by the hair, covering her mouth from screaming too much, not wanting to stress Bucky more. 

“Don’t make a sound” Nat hissed in her ear, pinching a nerve to keep her still while calling for he rest of the team to come up. 

“Doll” Bucky clung onto you like a small child, still struggling to understand what was going on, all he knew was that he was safe again when you protecting him. 

“Bucky, I’m here baby, it’s okay, I got you” you cooed, holding him tightly, covering him with the sheets, your heart breaking over his vulnerable state. He shook his head in confusion, while you stroked soft circles on his back to calm him. 

“Is he okay?” Nat tightened her grip around the woman while you blinked back tears, soothing Bucky. 

“What the hells going on” Tony frowned, approaching the room with Steve and Sam in tow after seeing Nat’s text message. 

“She drugged him. Tried to have her way with him” Nat snarled while Steve’s jaw clenched at the sight of he woman who nearly rolled her eyes while his best friend was in distress. He held back from doing something he'd regret, mumbling something to Nat before coming over to Bucky. Bucky stayed hidden in your comfort, whining whenever you shifted, terrified you’d leave him, needing you more than ever.  

“Stay with me?” He pleaded softly, still feeling so out of control, his head spinning, the touch of the other woman still burning his skin. “Don’t want her, want you”

“I know baby, it’s me, don’t worry, not going anywhere” you whispered, kissing his forehead as he relaxed slightly, closing his eyes. “Stay awake for me though Bucky, alright? I need you to stay up”  

“But m’so tired” Bucky slurred, his eyes growing heavy once again, your hand gently patting his cheek to keep him from sleeping. 

“I know baby” You continued to rock him while he struggled to keep his eyes open. 

“You’re gonna kick her ass for all of us, right?” Sam whispered to Nat, the redhead silently nodding, already planning on ripping the woman apart as she dragged her away. 

“Buck, you alright?” Steve spoke softly, his eyes filling with tears at the small nod Bucky mustered. Sam joined his side, gently squeezing Bucky’s shoulder. 

“We’re here for you, okay? Just stay awake for us Buck” 

Bucky let out a muffled hum, his body still running hotter than usual, making it harder for him to stay awake. 

“Sam, get him some water please” You whispered while he nodded, running off to grab some, coming back seconds later. You brought the glass to his lips, helping him drink before setting it aside. “Baby, can I take this off? I’ll help you feel better” Bucky let you take off the rest of his shirt, everyone leaving the room so you could help him with the rest of his clothes, covering him back up in your arms once he was just in his briefs. 

Tony brought over his suit to run a quick rest over the drugs that were now in his system using a needle to get a sample of blood to scan. 

“Its okay, it’ll be quick terminator, I promise” Tony whispered, doing his best to only take a tiny amount not stressing him more, so he could get an immediate reading on what Bucky had been given, breathing a sigh of relief when it wasn’t anything that would cause major harm or damage. “Standard narcotics. Just a fuck ton though. It’ll be out of his system without an issue but stay with him” 

You nodded, carefully monitoring Bucky until he was less groggy and disoriented, the both of you still wrapped up in the sheets. He blinked at the sight of your slightly bloodied hand, kissing your palm before pressing it against his cheek. 

“Are you okay baby” you whispered against his hair while he continued to nuzzle into you, not wanting to leave your warmth. 

“You protected me” He whispered, burying himself further into your hold, finally being able to fall asleep now that enough time had passed. “My angel” 

“I’ll always protect you my love” you whispered, holding him tighter as he closed his eyes, “Always” 

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate

Cazriel x f!Reader (Mor’s sister)

(part two) (part three) (part four) (part five) (epilogue)

Summary: “Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 

“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 

Word Count: ~6.2k

Warnings: eventual smut in later chapters, sexual assault, harassment, stalking, nightmares, light smut-ish (m/m, briefly described), light angst, liberal use of bargains, minors dni!

A/N: this was written for day 20 of my kink/angst-tober prompts but, my patience is limited and I needed to get this out of into the world and out of my brain for a bit. part 2 will be posted 10/20.

Something in her had been … off, ever since she visited a friend in the Autumn Court. Of course, they had all heavily protested her choice, but she’d been a friend of hers for years, and she firmly held her ground - insisting everything would be fine and that they didn’t know of her relation to them. 

It was driving all of them to the verge of insanity trying to figure out exactly what happened. Rhys gently probed against her mind once, and was immediately shut out - the walls going up like impenetrable iron gates, and a litany of creative curses were shouted down the hall. 

-

“How was your visit?” Mor asked hesitantly. She was curled up in an armchair, eyes quickly scanning the page, a full plate of food - likely a few hours old, still on the table beside her. 

“Fine.” Y/n replied, not looking up. The same answer she’d given everyone all week. 

“Any more details?” She probed. 

She slammed the book shut, looking up at her. “What else do you want me to say?” Her voice was low, and she could tell her anger was rising to dangerous levels. Maybe it would be worth provoking y/n’s temper, if only to get some kind of reaction out of her. 

“You won’t eat, you won’t talk to us, and you’re walking around like a gods-damned ghost.” 

She plucked a grape from the plate next to it, popping it in her mouth with an indignant look on her face. “Better?” Gods, she was going to kill her - sister or not. 

“I want you to tell me what the fuck happened before Rhys and I storm over there and kill someone.” Mor spat, rising to her feet. Y/n rose with her, throwing the blanket off, fists clenched at her side. 

“That’s not necessary.” 

“You can tell us anything, you know that right?” She tried to keep her voice gentle, soft even.

“I’m aware,” she snipped, “but that doesn’t mean it’s any of your business.” 

“For Cauldron’s sake.” She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing her eyes shut before leaving the room - in case she said or did anything she regretted. 

“Any luck?” Rhys asked from the end of the hallway. 

“Don’t act like you weren’t eavesdropping.” 

He grimaced, but turned to stride with her. “It’s been three days.” He said quietly, “Cassian and Azriel will be back tomorrow.” 

If anyone can get answers out of her, it would be those two. Even Amren couldn’t reach her. 

-

“Where’s y/n?” Cassian asked the next day. Mor looked to Rhys with a grimace. A shadow curled around Azriel’s ear. 

“In her room probably.” Mor replied. The same place she’d spent most of her time in. 

“Did you piss her off?” He leaned back, mouth curving into a smirk. The smirk quickly disappeared when Rhys explained what happened. 

“Tell her she can come on her own feet, or over my shoulder.” 

He relayed the message, and they all heard the sound of something slamming - along with a wince from Rhys. Mor figured she’d likely shouted something into his mind. Two minutes passed, and nothing. Cassian glanced at Azriel, and the two Illyrians rose - heading down the hall.  

“Good luck.” Mor muttered behind them and Rhys snorted. 

-

“What’s wrong with you?” Cassian’s voice echoed through the room as her door swung open - hitting the wall hard enough there might be a small dent. 

“Nothing.” She muttered, turning over in her bed and tugging the blankets closer to her. Azriel exchanged a look with him. 

“Get up.” Cassian barked. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Not happening princess.” He strode towards the side of the bed, ripping the blanket back. He was greeted by a book careening towards his face, one he deflected with a shield. “You can do better than that.” He tugged the pillow out from under her and she shot up to sit. His stance widened, feet braced on the floor - prepared for a fight. 

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Y/n said through gritted teeth. 

Cassian hummed, tilting his head as if he was debating it. “No.” 

“On your feet or over his shoulder, your choice.” Azriel said from behind him. His voice was flat and smooth. Another book launched - where the hell had it come from? And Cassian let it fly over his head, knowing exactly who it was aimed for. A low snarl came from the corner of the room, and Azriel strode up to stand next to him, forming a wall. Y/n, of course, didn’t look intimidated and no fear came from her - but he did see caution in her eyes. 

“You’re a brat.” The shadowsinger commented, with a tilt of his head. A predator assessing her, waiting for her next move. 

She sent him a vulgar gesture, and apparently Azriel was fed up because quicker than she could react, he had her slung over his shoulder, stalking out her door with a shield covering his wings. 

Smart, he thought as he followed, he didn’t doubt y/n would use that to her advantage. She’s done it before, raking her nails up his wings and nearly getting herself killed. 

He deposited her at the table, shoving her down into the seat next to him before pushing it in. Cassian took up vigil on her other side. If he thought she was angry before, she was absolutely fuming now - sending both him and Azriel a look that promised a slow, slow death. He rolled his eyes, he’d been on the receiving ends of that look frequently, and it didn’t phase him. 

“I thought it was over your shoulder.” Rhys’s voice flooded into his mind. 

“Azriel took care of it.” 

“Obviously. Did she throw anything at you?” 

“Yes.” A strained chuckle came from Rhys, and he felt his presence leave. 

She sat there, taking small sips of water and avoiding eye contact from anyone. 

Cassian let out a low groan before filling her plate with food. 

Mor and Rhys exchanged a glance, their eyes glazing over slightly. “We have things to take care of,” Mor gave an awkward excuse and they both rose. Leaving them to the wolves, then. Wolf - actually. 

“Don’t make me feed you like a child.” Azriel told her when the two were out of earshot. 

“You wouldn’t,” y/n countered, but didn’t sound confident. Azriel reached for her fork, and she snatched it away from him, spearing a piece of food instead and slowly raising it to her mouth. 

“Are you going to tell us what happened?” Cassian asked her. 

She ignored the question, choosing to eat small bites of food instead. 

“Or I can go find out for myself,” Azriel offered. 

“No,” she said too quickly. “Don’t.” 

-

She was confident Azriel would go find out what happened, and that’s not what she wanted. Regardless of whether he heard it from her or figured it out himself, it wouldn’t go over well. But, if they were here when they did learn there’s a better chance of her de-escalating the situation. 

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” Her hand shook, palms going clammy. She saw them exchange a worried look out of her peripherals and for some reason it incensed her further. She’d had enough of people worrying. Well, she fully knew she’d been acting like a ‘brat’ as Az would say for the last few days. But, in her defense they were all busy-bodies who couldn’t mind their own damn business. 

“When will you be?” Cassian sounded … gentle, almost. Like she was some breakable doll. She firmly placed a lid down on her anger, shoving it away. 

“I’ll let you know.” 

“You have until tomorrow night.” Azriel cut in. With a low and obnoxious groan, she slumped in her seat. “Finish your food,” he directed. A particularly nasty look was shot his way, but she relented. 

There’s not a doubt in her mind that he’d make her eat if she refused. The two of them were overbearing and annoying, but meant well. Y/n knew Rhys had sent them in, considering his, Mor’s and even Amren’s attempts had all failed. 

“I thought you’d be happier to see us,” Cassian teased, nudging his shoulder with hers. “It’s been two weeks.” 

“I am happy to see you,” she mumbled. It’s the truth, she was glad to see him, and if she’d actually known they were back she probably would’ve left to at least check they’re in one piece. 

As soon as she’d cleared her plate, Cassian looped his arm in between hers - not giving her a chance to go anywhere. “We’re training.” 

“I just ate.” She protested, but it didn’t work. Azriel trailed them outside, hopefully to make sure Cassian didn’t end up working her to the point she threw up. 

-

She realized the mistake exactly as it happened, both arms raising for a block - and her shirt lifting as well. Revealing two yellowing hand print shaped bruises on her waist. She forced her expression to remain still, to not react, and hoped they hadn’t noticed. But, Cassian stilled. Eyes focused on where her shirt now covered her stomach. Y/n could’ve taken the opportunity to strike him, but didn’t. 

“Where are those from?” He asked her, and she could tell he was struggling to keep his voice even. They’d caught Azriel’s attention as well, from where he was standing a few paces away from the ring. Based on the predatory look of rage in his eyes, he’d seen everything. 

“None of -”

“Don’t.” The general cut in shortly. 

“It’s fine.” She insisted, going on the defensive. 

“Is that … part of what has you upset?” His throat bobbed, and she could tell he was trying very hard to keep himself calm. Y/n turned and ducked out of the ring, returning her sword to the rack. There was no use in lying to them, they both always knew when she was. And when she badgered them for her tells, they refused. So, she took a deep breath and prepared herself to deal with the fall out. 

“Yes. I took care of it already.” Her voice shook with each word. 

“What happened?” Azriel asked mildly. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and tilted her head back to look at the sky. She couldn’t look at them now, and didn't want to. Didn’t want the two of them to see her break down. Instead, she focused on the stars above her as the story spilled out. One of her friends' brothers had cornered her. She was in her early-twenties, and had never been interested in anyone. Not in that way. When the … opportunity came up she went along with it for a minute - even flirted harmlessly with him, but when he pressed and tried to push her for more, tried to get her to kiss him, and when he refused … 

“That’s when,” she waved her hand down her stomach, “that happened. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t,” she couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as the story kept spilling out, of how he grabbed her breast, tried to stick his hand between her legs. 

“And he called me a frigid bitch after I kneed him in the balls.” She finished weakly, forcing a laugh. The two of them had gone incredibly still, and she felt the tears drip from her cheeks onto her shirt. “I took care of it.” She insisted. 

The ‘taking care of it’ worked for a day. Until he came back, thinking she was just playing with him - that she liked the ‘playing hard to get.’ The worst was her friend justifying it, when she brought it up to her. 

“Well,” she hesitated, biting on her bottom lip. “You did flirt with him, how’s he supposed to know?” 

“I told him to stop.” Y/n insisted.

“Just try telling him again.” She sighed. “I don’t want to get in a fight with him.” She told him, again, over the next three days. 

“There’s more.” Azriel said. Gods, he always knew - even if she was just omitting something. “All of it. I need to hear all of it.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She yelled, the anger she’d kept a firm lid on spilling out as tears ran down her face. “I don’t want to think about it, I want it to be over.” 

Cassian strode towards her, wrapping her in his arms and bringing her close to his chest, rubbing her back and holding her through her sobs. Cool shadows swirled around her neck and shoulders, and she recognized Azriel’s way of comforting her. 

“I’m sorry.” She murmured, face still pressed into his chest. 

“None of that,” he replied, running a hand through her hair. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

She snorted, pushing back against him. “You’re growing soft.” 

“Just for you,” he grinned but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

Y/n yelped as she was gently tugged away from him, instead bundled into Azriel’s arms, his fingers running through her hair and shadows still curling around her. Probably reporting her expressions even as he couldn’t see her face. “Can you tell me now?” 

She exhaled slowly. She wouldn’t get out of this, so she might as well tell him. “He just didn’t know how to take the hint. He thought I was playing with him.” Azriel tensed underneath her, and she scented the pure rage coming from both of the Illyrians and knew if she didn’t say anything else someone in the Autumn court would find their immortal life cut short. “I told him if he didn’t stop I would stab him.” 

“Good girl.” He murmured, but didn’t release her - instead holding her tight as if she might disappear at any moment. 

“Don’t -,” she took in a breath, “don’t tell anyone else.” She pushed back, tilting her head to see his expression. He looked troubled by it and glancing over to Cassian told her he’s feeling the same way. “Please.” 

They looked at each other, as if they were communicating something silently, and nerves hit her - crawling under her skin and swirling in her stomach. She took another step back, forcing Azriel’s arms to hang back by his sides. 

“We’ll make a deal, with a few conditions.” Cassian said, and strode closer to her, standing next to Azriel to make a wall formed of pure arrogance. She groaned internally. “If you don’t agree. We’ll tell him.” 

She crossed her arms, pressing her lips together. “What are they?” 

“Firstly, they’re non negotiable.” He waited for her nod before continuing. “You don’t visit them again. If you want to see her, she comes here.” 

“I’d have to go through Rhys for that.” He gave her a look, as if to say - “that’s your problem,” and she rolled her eyes. 

“Second. No more hiding.” 

“I wasn’t -” 

“Yes you were.” Azriel cut in, raising an eyebrow at her glare. “Rhys told us.” 

“He needs to learn to mind his business.” She muttered and Cassian snorted. 

“If he didn’t tell us, we would’ve figured it out. You don’t miss meals.” 

“I could have just wanted to eat in private.” 

“For three days in a row?” He crossed his arms. 

“Mind your damn business.” 

“Enough.” Azriel cut off the quickly budding argument between the two of them. He’s always been the mediator between the two of them - both ‘blessed’ with quick tempers. 

She wheeled on him instead. “And you have to promise not to tell him.” She needed to be very clear on that, otherwise he would take the loophole and exploit it. He looked conflicted, but ended up promising - unless it somehow escalates, but considering she’ll never see him again - she doubts it will.

“Is that everything?” 

“One more. Anyone does that to you again, you tell us.” 

“As long as you don’t tell anyone else without my permission permission.” They exchanged another look, and both nodded. She stared at them for a few seconds. “It’s a bargain.” 

She fought her smile as she was on the receiving end of twin glares. Apparently they hadn’t intended for it to go that far, but now she knew their word was good. 

“Brat.” Cassian muttered, but started searching for the tattoo. 

She shoved up her sleeves. Nothing on her arms. But, felt a tiny prick on chest, and strode towards the mirror, adjusting her shirt to see. Some kind of constellation was etched into her skin, spreading across her collarbones in a pattern she didn’t recognize. Azriel and Cassian had matching ones - it took them a minute to figure it out, especially with their leathers in the way, but small dots were interwoven with the tattoos already lining their chests. 

“It’s … feminine.” Cassian commented. 

“Nothing wrong with that,” she raised a brow at him. 

“Nothing wrong with it.” He quickly agreed. 

“I think they’re pretty,” she teased, poking his chest. 

-

“Did you figure it out?” Rhys asked later as the three of them met in his office. 

Cassian’s hand ran down his face. “We did.” 

“And what is it?” 

“We can’t tell you.” Azriel replied through gritted teeth. 

Rhys paused for a moment, before raising his brows. “You let her trick you into a bargain? I thought you would’ve known better.” Both of them bristled. Ever since y/n figured out what a bargain was, she managed to word things carefully enough they’d get wrapped into them. Rhys still remembers the first time he met her, back when she was a youngling and before they managed to get her out of the Court of Nightmares. 

“Mor said you could fly,” she whispered - low enough nobody else could hear. She looked up and saw the hesitant look on his face. “I can keep a secret.” She grinned. He gave her a quick nod. 

He saw her again, a year later - now seven years old. “Could you take me flying?” He gave a subtle shake of his head, but every time she saw him she would ask, and eventually he caved. 

“I’ll make a deal with you, you stop asking - and I’ll take you flying” 

“It’s a bargain.” She whispered, and Rhys winced as a small band appeared around his upper arm, a matching one on her. That’s not supposed to happen … she shouldn’t be able to make those without both parties expliciting saying it. 

They snuck her out the next day and took her, if only to keep anyone else from noticing the thin tattoo around her upper arm. He still remembered Mor half-heartedly lecturing her about the danger of making bargains - and not to go doing it with strangers. 

Another idea popped into his head. “Did she say you can’t show me?” 

Cassian winced. “I don’t-,” he turned to give Azriel a sharp look, “we don’t want to betray her trust. But it’s taken care of.” 

Rhys nodded. He’d have to wiggle it out of her himself then, even if that’s nearly impossible. Besides, if the two of them break her trust like that, and she finds out … that would be a fight he doesn’t want to be anywhere near. 

-

Mor promised to get her out of Hewn City, whenever she needed to. Y/n was eighteen when she left, when she moved to Velaris, met Cassian, Azriel, Amren, and started making friends in the city. She should’ve known any ‘friends’ she met living there … Y/n cut off that line of thinking, reminding herself it’s not her fault, in any way. But, her mind still swirls with all of the ways she possibly could have prevented it, or the different things she could have done. For gods sake, she’s told others countless times that it’s not their fault, and they’re in no way responsible for others actions, but she still gets caught in that spider web, in the dangerous abyss of her own thoughts caving in on her. 

“Where’d you go?” Rhys interrupts her and she blinks heavily. 

“Here and there.” She mutters, pushing some food around on her plate. 

“Anything you want to talk about?” Him and Mor have stopped questioning her as frequently, but still try to put subtle feelers out to see if she will respond, or open up to them. 

The words blurt out before she can think twice about them. “Can I speak with the priestesses again?” 

His entire body tenses, his shoulders tightening and eyes darkening. She’d just given him a very clear idea of what happened while she was away.

-

The priestesses. He can only think of a few reasons why she’d want to speak with them. It could be related to her past, but more likely to some recent events. Barely, he manages to keep his composure. 

“I’ll ask them.” His voice is short and he watches her worry her bottom lip. 

“Please don’t do-” 

“Anything rash?” He raises a brow, forcing a cool and neutral tone. 

“I took care of it.” She insisted. Similar to what Azriel and Cassian said. 

“Will you ever tell me? Or Mor? She’s worried sick.” Rhys knew it was a low blow, even as he said it. 

“I’m tired of … I’m tired of talking about it.” 

He wondered why she’d want to go to the priestesses, why she’d want to speak with them if she’s already sick of talking. But then again, he’s heard that sometimes they go into their offices just to cry or scream. Either way, he’s not going to deny her the chance, or that request. He knows without a doubt that they’ll agree to see her. They all love her there, and she spends a lot of her time studying in the archives. Technically that’s her official position in his court - to research, her mind is her greatest weapon. 

“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” 

“I wanted to make you feel useful.” He rolled his eyes, leaning over to flick her nose. She dodged it, swatting his hand away. “But if you’re going to complain I can ask them myself.’”

“Asking who?” Mor swept into the room, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. Rhys took that as his cue to leave, before he got caught into anything between the two sisters. 

-

Y/n mouthed ‘traitor’ at Rhys’s retreating figure, when Mor wasn’t looking. 

“I’m going to ask if I can speak with the priestesses again.” 

“Oh.” She paused, before sitting down on the couch next to her, stretching her legs out in front. “Anyone in particular?” 

She exhaled in relief, something Mor noticed but didn’t comment on. 

“Not Merrill.” Y/n muttered, drawing a laugh out of Mor. 

“Merrill has a good heart.” 

“I deal with her enough already.” Y/n groaned, leaning her head back on the cushion. 

“How is that going?” Mor switched subjects, navigating to safer areas. If she pushed too much on this topic … y/n might shut down again. 

“Slowly. Traveling between worlds, Rhys is obsessed with it and translating some of the old texts takes hours.” 

“Is he now?” She turned, interested, and gave her a small smile. 

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” 

“I won’t snitch.” 

“I won’t either.” She snipped back, but a small smile was on her face, and some mirth dancing in her eyes. She could’ve cried from relief - even if she has other things to think about now, about how she has a very clear idea of what happened. Part of her wants to lecture her sister about bargains, again. 

-

Y/n was forced to stop hiding, the tattoo pricking into her skin every time it thought she was being a bit too reclusive. Still, she wondered if it really was a fair bargain - their silence in return for; not visiting her again, not hiding, and telling them if anyone does that again. She supposes that could mean several things, and they never specified a specific timeframe on when she would have to tell them. In her desperation for them to keep her confidence, she’d done something foolish and doubted they would let her out of that anytime soon. If ever. 

The two of them can be just as tricky as she is, and just as likely to find loopholes. At least they wouldn’t use it against her with the intention to cause harm. She’d never make one of those with someone she doesn’t trust. Even if the wording is iron-clad, there’s always room for error. Most of the ‘bargains’ she’s made are always light-hearted. 

Like making Rhys take her to fly, even if it was the shortest gods-damned flight of her life. Two minutes, if that - and under the cover of dark, after him and Mor snuck her out of Hewn City. Her very first taste of freedom. She was always kept away whenever the Inner Circle visited. Still, she managed to sneak away from the guards, learning how to create diversions and somehow give the impression she was still sleeping in her rooms, enchanting her toys to keep moving, or a pen to keep writing, a book to keep flipping its pages. They never caught her either. She wasn’t even born when Mor left. In fact, she wasn’t born until after Rhys took up his throne. Born into a ‘cleaned-out’ Hewn City, and grateful for it - she doesn’t want to know what it was like before. 

Not many children were around, anyway. The friends she did make were the ones her parents encouraged her to, from foreign courts for the most part. People she’s unlikely to ever visit again. Technically, she could leave of her own accord - but that would mean whoever she’s visiting is going to have someone knocking on their door to drag her away. 

A knock sounded on the door as she slumped back against her pillow, and she could sense Azriel was out there. 

“Come in,” she called. There’s a fifty-fifty chance he’d enter anyway. 

The door swung open, revealing him leaning against her doorway. “I heard you went to speak with the priestesses.” 

Cutting right to the chase, then. “I speak with them every day. It’s part of my job description.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You know what I mean.”

She groaned, pushing herself up to sit. “You don’t need to haunt the doorway, you can come in.” 

“Last time I did, I recall a book launched my way.” 

She held up both hands, showing there were no projectiles in reach. He still looked cautious as he entered, and took up a seat in one of the armchairs, right by her favorite window. She swung her legs over so she sat on the edge of her bed, propping her forearms on her thighs. 

-

Azriel couldn’t help as his eyes shifted down ever so slightly to where her nightdress slipped down, showing the tops of the curves of her breasts. His gaze switched back up as quickly as possible, and somehow y/n didn’t catch the action - instead looking out towards the window. Good, the last thing he needs is to start ogling her, to give her the impression he’s coming onto her. There was something else he could do. He’d need to speak with Cassian. 

“I’m proud of you,” he offered instead. Her head snapped, back to look at him. Her eyes were wide and he fought the urge to shift under her gaze. 

“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips turning up into a soft smile. A shadow curled around his ear, happy, happy, happy. It sang. 

“What do they tell you?” She tilted her head, eyeing it. 

“That you’re happy,” he said honestly. 

She blinked twice, lips curving into an easy smile. “I suppose I am,” she finally answered. 

“You should get some sleep.” He’d noticed the bags under her eyes, how she still seemed exhausted and worn down throughout the day. Azriel had told Cassian he needed to stop dragging her outside and beating her into the ground every day. He’s aware healing is different for each person, but it had been a month since she returned, and his worry only grew. 

“That’s rude.” She frowned, but glanced at the mirror across from her bed. Interesting placement. “I do look like shit.” 

He snorted. “You look tired, there’s a difference.” 

“Sleep hasn’t … been easy.” He could tell it cost her something to admit that. Stubborn pride, just like her sister and cousin. And the rest of them, he supposed. 

“Nightmares?” He prompted, and she nodded. He wouldn’t pry further, but made a mental note to send a shadow in later, to keep watch on her. Maybe it was an invasion of her privacy, but he didn’t particularly care. “I’m right down the hall,” he jerked his chin towards the door. 

“I’m aware.” Another shadow curled around his ear, stay, stay, stay. “Is it too nosy if I ask about that one?” She teased. 

“Maybe.” 

She held her hand to her chest in mock surprise. “I suppose it’s your job to keep secrets.” 

“I recall someone making a terrible bargain to keep something secret.” 

Her face dropped, and he got the impression he said the wrong damn thing. “They’ve already figured it out.” She mumbled, eyes avoiding him. He hated that, hated when she wouldn’t look at him. 

“That’s not a terrible thing.” He fought the urge to rub the back of his neck. He’s never been great at comforting, usually Cassian’s the one to do these kinds of things. Still, he found himself walking across the room, taking a seat next to her. On instinct, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. 

She froze, went still for a brief moment, and he was about to move away when she leaned into him, her body relaxing. A few of his shadows swirled around her neck, and she hummed in content. 

Another one curled around his ear, happy, stay. Maybe, for a minute or two. 

-

Cassian went looking for Azriel, he wasn’t in his room - or downstairs or anywhere to be found, and tracked his scent off to y/n’s room, of all places. The door was already parted, and he nudged it open with his foot. Y/n was curled into his side, sound asleep in an awfully uncomfortable position. How tired did she have to be to sleep like that? Almost sitting up. 

Azriel turned his head to look at him, his expression almost saying ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He held a fist up to his face, fighting back a laugh, and ignoring his glare. He stalked over towards the duo, ignoring Az’s glare as he shook y/n’s shoulder. 

“Stop holding him hostage.” He watched as her eyes opened, half lidded with sleep. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, hand coming up to hide a yawn. 

Azriel moved his arm away, even if he seemed reluctant to do so, and he pushed back her shoulders so she’d actually lay down. “I don’t want to hear any complaints if your back hurts tomorrow.” 

“Fuck off.” She yanked the blankets back over her, burrowing down into the pillows. It took barely a minute before she was sound asleep again, her breaths evening out, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Peaceful, she looked so peaceful, even with the bags still lining her eyes like horrible bruises. 

Azriel tapped his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring for a while. They quietly left, gently shutting the door closed behind them. 

“You’ve gone soft.” He told the other male after they were out of earshot. 

“I was just … comforting her, and she fell asleep.”

“Must be really tired, then.” 

“She said she’s having nightmares.” 

Mother above, Cassian wanted to storm the autumn court and bring her back that asshole’s head as a gift. In fact, he’d been debating it for the last few days - but, if anything it would distress her further. Y/n’s never been a violent person, in contrast to the rest of the inner circle. A good contrast. She thought he’d been training her more just to keep her from ‘hiding,’ but his mind was swirling with what else could’ve gone wrong, and if she would have been able to defend herself. Or why she threw herself in whole heartedly, pushing herself harder than ever. 

“She’s been more ...” Cassian pressed his lips into a tightline, glancing behind him to make sure y/n wasn’t behind. “Dedicated, training wise.” 

“I know.” Azriel replied quietly. He couldn’t shake the feeling there was something else they didn’t know.

-

Her tattoo pricked at her as she opened the third letter in the past month. Addressed from her friend, like the last two, but something was different about this one - her name written differently, a small curve to the letters. 

Her eyes scanned the page, picking out the key phrases. 

I miss the fun we had. I know how much you enjoyed yourself. 

You must, should visit at your earliest convenience. 

There was only a general threatening atmosphere to the words - nothing outwardly against her safety. Only him … reminiscing on the past events, in uncomfortable detail. Harmless, she decided, even if her subconscious screamed against her. No pain ripped through her magic, also some guilt crept into her at the feeling - she was hiding it, using a loophole to get out of the agreement, not honoring the spirit of it. 

With a low exhale, she justified it to herself, no need to worry the two of them - they were busy enough as is. Besides, she couldn’t trust them to keep their cool. The guilt would multiply if she knew violence was brought to her friend's doorway. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and crumpled the paper - shoving it in a drawer and reminding herself to burn it later. It was dark, the sun already dipped below the horizon - only vague rays of pink and purple peeking up past the horizon. Her stomach grumbled, loud enough she snorted. That’s a clear signal she needs to grab something to eat. 

She slipped out her door, closing it behind her with a gentle snick. She kept her footsteps as silent as she could as she trailed down the hallway, but she heard … moans - and groans coming from Azriel’s room. Did he have someone over? A small tinge of hurt filled her - not that he was hers, or she had any claim to him. Or Cassian. Why had her mind gone to both of them? “Ridiculous,” she quietly chided herself. She could manage to walk by the room, keep her eyes set right ahead - no need to look at the door or pause, she wouldn’t be nosy. 

Her feet moved quickly, and she spotted the cracked open door in her peripheral, cursing him. Eyes forward, right ahead. No need to look. 

But, she made the mistake of looking at the window, figuring it would be harmless. 

Her mouth parted in shock as she saw Cassian, pressed back against Azriel who had one arm wrapped around his front - palming him through the leather pants. They were both shirtless, muscles toned and gleamed with a light sheen of sweat. Azriel’s other hand was fisted in the General’s hair, their lips crashing together in a violent and passionate kiss. 

She hadn’t realized she was staring, arousal starting to creep into her, until a shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and his head snapped towards her. Cassian quickly followed, and she let out a small yelp - going bug eyed and taking off down the hall. She was not supposed to see that. Not at all … Mother above they need to close the damned door. Arousal flickered through her as she paused at the end of the hall - way out of range, bracing her hand against the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the feeling. She couldn’t want them. They were perfectly unavailable, and together, at least in some sense. 

Did Rhys and Mor know? She wouldn’t be the one to tell them. Her mind flashed with more images;

Azriel panting as Cassian knelt in front of him. Azriel hauling him to his feet - throwing him over the side of the bed … 

“Stop it.” She muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose and darting her gaze around the hall. No one to witness, good. She couldn’t remember why she left her room, but she wouldn’t be returning for a while. 

-

It shouldn’t have, but getting caught - and by her, and feeling her arousal from the brief moments she watched them … it spurred him on, sent him deeper into that state of building pleasure. 

She didn’t know they already knew she was there. Azriel  wanted to see how long it took for her to say something, or if they’d have to act first.

“We should invite her back.” Cassian said, bruised lips frowning. 

“Do you want to scare her off?” Azriel asked incredulously. They had actual albeit vague plans for this. To  come in stages, how to trigger various emotions in her. 

“No.” He muttered, entwining his hair at the nape of Azriel’s neck.

“Good boy” Azriel teased and his friend grunted, throwing a half-hearted punch his way. Cassian stiffened under his hand. “You like that?” His teeth nipped at his neck as his hand slipped under his waistband. 

“Do we talk to her about it?” Cassian asked, an hour later - hair messed, cheeks flushed, one hand braced on the doorframe. 

Az propped himself up from where he was still laying in bed. “Let her dream about it.” 

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART EIGHT

previous chapters | yall are absolutely fucking incredible. truly. i never could have ever expected the response to the last chapter and i'm so so SO grateful to everyone who's been contributing their thoughts and theories over the past week. your engagement and passion for this story means the world to me. so many people wanted so many different things for this chapter and i know i can't please everybody, but i hope this satisfies most of you. thank you so much for being here and for loving this story. here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 chapter summary: you don't know what to think after catching joel at the bar. tasha wants to help in the best she knows how - getting fucked up. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early 20s), innocent/inexperienced reader, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, mentions of religion, catholic guilt, sexual assault (nothing to do w joel), alcohol, almost penetration word count: 13.6k ao3

You've never felt like this before.

Tasha practically has to drag you into a cab, gripping tight to your hand with an arm around your back as she gives the driver the address of where you're both staying. He barely bats an eye to the fact that you're practically inconsolable, tears streaming steadily down your face as you gasp and sob and stare at the floor with wide eyes. He's probably picked up countless passengers in similar situations and it's not like you can bring yourself to feel any sort of embarrassment over it.

"Shh," she soothes you, still rubbing your back and peering down at you with empathy in her eyes, an expression that somehow makes you feel even worse - she'd told you this might happen. She'd known all along, but you hadn't wanted to believe anything she said about the lack of definition in your relationship with Joel. You'd chosen to believe differently, believe that he was different than the guys your friends have encountered.

How could you have been so stupid?

It's your own fault you're even in this position now, crying in the back of a cab while Joel makes out with some woman in a bar you don't belong in. Your own fault for putting any ounce of faith in someone else for once, for choosing to be blind to the obvious - of course he doesn't want you. Of course you're not his priority. You're not his girlfriend. You're his fuck buddy. You're a warm body and nothing more.

You don't speak for the entire drive, just cry and try desperately to control your breathing. By the time you reach the Airbnb your throat hurts from the sobs, although throwing up on the sidewalk could also have something to do with it. You're just a mess, lightheaded and distant as Tasha guides you into the house and helps you settle on the couch.

"Stay here," she says softly, grabbing a throw blanket and carefully covering your loose and exhausted form, "I'm gonna go get some necessities, okay? This place doesn't have shit."

You nod slowly, just to let her know you acknowledge her words, though you're unsure exactly what necessities she's talking about. She reaches her hand down and strokes your cheek, still looking at you with that sad expression.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she repeats to you for probably the fortieth time in the past hour.

You close your eyes; you can't stand to see the pity on her face.

--

Tasha returns shortly after with her "necessities", which mainly consist of junk food and alcohol. You haven't moved an inch from where she'd left you, still laying on the couch with bloodshot eyes and a quivering mouth. You listen as she busies herself in the kitchen, putting together some sort of snack platter for the both of you that you already know you won't eat. You're not hungry. You've never been less hungry in your life.

"You were right," you finally manage to croak out as she seats herself beside you on the couch, placing the food on the coffee table and turning to you with that familiar look of pity, "He's just like the rest of them."

She shakes her head, "No, that's not true, I never said that," she rips open a bag of chips and starts munching, seemingly lost in thought.

"Oh, we're gaslighting now, are we?"

She raises an eyebrow, "Girlie, tell me when I said what you just said."

"Boys are mean," you quote hastily, turning a bit on the couch to stare up at the ceiling.

"Yes, it's true. Boys are mean. And so are men," she sighs then, dropping the chips back on the table, "Look, I'm not defending him, I promise, but-"

"Tasha," you state coldly, still staring at the ceiling, "Do not continue that sentence."

"You don't even know what I'm gonna say."

"Yes, I do," you shut your eyes and bring your hands to cover your face, feeling the tears starting up again, "You're gonna tell me we never defined what we had, that he was never my boyfriend, that this can't constitute as cheating because there was no relationship to begin with."

She's quiet but you can still feel her looking at you with that sadness, that sympathy, the look of someone who's been here before and knows how it feels. And it makes you so angry. Because-

"Joel wasn't supposed to do this," you continue, softer now, voice shaky as the tears flow down your temples and into your hair, "He's not a boy, he's not like the guys you date. He- he was different, I-" you choke, throat tightening at the thought of him, the image of him with her at the front of your mind again, "I thought he- I thought that we-"

You can't continue, words turning into cries and sniffles turning into sobs. You feel Tasha's hand on your calf, stroking your skin gently despite the fact that you just criticized both her own judgement and her taste in men in the same breath.

"I'm not trying to hurt your feelings," she says soothingly, "That's the last thing I wanna do. If anything I'm trying to tell you that this doesn't necessarily make him an asshole."

You scoff at that, "Right. Makes sense," you finally pull your hands down to look at her through your tears, brow furrowing, "Tasha he was kissing her. That- that woman, he was- he touched her face."

"I know he did," she murmurs with a frown, eyes casting downward, "And I know it hurts, but-"

"But nothing," you find yourself tossing the blanket to the floor and standing up shakily, not bothering to even look at Tasha as you stomp toward the bedroom. "I don't need this right now," is the last thing you say before slamming the door behind you.

She doesn't follow you. This is the first time you've ever yelled at her, the first time you've ever felt truly mad at her, and even though you know deep down that this isn't her fault... you still feel betrayed. Betrayed by Tasha's nonchalance, betrayed by Joel's actions, but worst of all - betrayed by yourself.

Because how did you manage to get into this mess in the first place?

You practically rip the too-tight and too-short pink dress off your body and stagger to the bed, not even bothering to pull back the covers. You still feel sick, lightheaded and woozy as you press your face to the cool pillow and try to collect yourself. You can't get the image of the woman out of your head; you hadn't even seen her face and yet it's like she's somehow consuming every fiber of your being. All you can see behind your closed lids are those long, perfectly styled braids hitting her bare waist, skin a deep and rich brown that almost sparkled under the bar lights, the way her bare ankle traveled up and down his leg, the soft curve of her cheek as he'd cupped it in his hand-

A sob wracks through you and you pull the other pillow toward yourself, wrapping your legs and arms around it like a koala, remembering how less than twenty four hours ago you'd been in a bed just like this one - except it hadn't been a pillow you were cuddling. And now, what? Who's in that bed now? Another woman? That gorgeous woman who you don't stand a chance against?

You're sure Tasha can hear you crying but she doesn't come, staying in the living room and giving you the space you need. You already feel awful for snapping at her like that - you know she means well, that she's just trying to alleviate the situation in her own way, but you barely even know how you feel about it.

And how do you feel? Hurt? Sad? Angry? Of course you feel all of those things, to a degree you've never felt them before, but underlying all of those emotions is something else entirely, something you can't quite put your finger on - or would rather not put your finger on, because doing so would mean finally admitting something you're not sure you're ready to admit yet.

You try to think about your relationship with Joel up to this point, try and pinpoint the exact moment it went from being something frivolous to being something real, but you find that it's impossible to do so. For you, you could say the moment you walked past his threshold was when it became official. Or when he touched you for the first time. Or when he kissed you. When he made you come. When he called you his babygirl. When you touched his cock. When he put his mouth on your pussy. When you woke up this morning completely naked in his bed.

Any of those moments could have been the moment. But a gnawing voice in the back of your mind reminds you that any of those moments could have equally not been the moment as well. Maybe there was no moment. Maybe this really has just been a whole lot of nothing.

But then you think about the way he looks at you. The way he treats you.

The way he'd comforted and reassured you last night, held you, made you feel safe and secure - "If you just wanna lay here with me, that's okay too."

The way he'd shared his insecurities with you over the phone, been vulnerable, honest and open - "I don't want you to look at me differently".

The way he'd dressed up just in case your mother took you to your lesson, looking like he was ready to attend a church service, purposely putting himself in uncomfortable clothing to make sure things went smoothly - "I wanted to make a good impression."

The way he'd told you about his past on his back deck, related his own childhood to yours, tried to calm your own fears and tell you things would be okay - "You gotta focus on what's right for you, on livin' the life you want, not worryin' about what they'll think".

What did any of it mean? What does any of it mean? Has it just been sex this whole time or does he actually care about you? And if he does, why would he kiss someone else?

And what if he's been kissing someone else... fucking someone else... this entire time? What if it's not just you he's been seeing? The thought makes you want to throw up all over again.

You hear a peal of laughter from the other room, a sound that feels odd in the silence and sadness of the bedroom where you lie. Tasha must have put on a movie or something. You feel bitterness rise in your throat, a sudden urge to run out to the living room and grab the remote and toss it out the window, scream at her for finding something to laugh at when you're literally falling apart at the seams.

But the bitterness fades when you hear her laugh again; you love that laugh, have missed it ever since you came home. Tasha has always had such a free and fun way about her, a natural joy that you've always envied. You'd watched her go out night after night over the past three years, come home with the most bizarre stories that you were never able to fully relate to, and yet she always tried to include you in some way, ask you questions, make you laugh.

You remember the looks of shock you'd received from the other girls when you'd first shared that you were a virgin, that you'd never done anything except kiss. She'd sensed your discomfort immediately, seen your embarrassment, and had quickly flipped the conversation to something else more shocking, more embarrassing - at her own expense. Easier than flipping a light switch. And any time it was mentioned after that, she'd always emphasize how lucky you were, how she wished she'd taken her time, how all you were missing out on was bonehead losers who didn't know how to please a woman.

She's always reassured you, always listened, and has always been your number one fan, even when you had nothing to give. You'd told her all about your upbringing, about the way you'd begun to question everything, and she'd given you her own two cents and made you feel better for the first time in a long time. And when you'd told her you were coming home for the summer she'd said, "Are you sure that's gonna be okay for you?"

You trust her. So why are you in this room avoiding her? Why aren't you listening to what she has to say?

With heavy limbs you manage to climb off the bed and tug on your pajamas, wiping your eyes and letting the sadness and humility settle for just a moment. Yes, this is a fucked up situation. But Tasha wants to help you. Let her.

A few moments later you find yourself back on the couch, this time with Tasha's arm around you as she pours you a glass of wine and shakes away your apology. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she tells you softly, "You're upset, I get it."

You sigh deeply and take a sip, wincing at the bitterness but making no move to put it back on the table. "So," you murmur hoarsely, "Why is he not necessarily an asshole?"

--

You stay up late talking for hours about the situation and listening to Tasha's theories, most of which center around a lack of communication - based on her own personal experiences. She also has to factor in the fact that Joel is a lot older, a detail she's still beyond surprised over.

"I just can't believe he's fifty six," she faux whispers the number with wide eyes, shaking her head. "Like... this man knows things. How to take care of you, ya know? You're luckier than you realize."

"Lucky," you scoff, "Yeah, that's one way to describe how it feels."

She slaps your hand playfully, "I'm serious. This is yet another reason I think you just got your signals crossed here. I refuse to believe he's trying to hurt you, especially after how considerate he's been with you up until this point. If this was just about sex he would have dropped you ages ago, honey. I mean, no offense but you're not exactly making it easy for him, are you?"

She's certainly blunt. But she's also right. Joel has been nothing but patient with you this entire time, never expecting anything more than what you've been willing to give. If it was just about sex, this thing between the two of you wouldn't have gone beyond that first day in his house when you'd told him you were a virgin.

You slowly begin to come to the conclusion that you should give him the benefit of the doubt. As much as what you saw hurts, as much as it makes you want to crawl in bed and never get up, you were never Joel's girlfriend. There was never an establishing conversation, never a moment where you laid your heart on the line and told him exactly what you wanted, mainly because you haven't been sure what you wanted up until this point. But now you do.

"Communication," Tasha repeats for maybe the fifth time, "Communication is key. He doesn't know what you want, so you need to tell him. You need to stand up for yourself. And if he doesn't take you seriously, you move on. Simple."

"Simple," you echo, your third glass of wine already getting to you as you peer at her hazily with an upturned brow, "Communication."

"Communication," she repeats, "Simple."

Communication. Simple.

It's what echoes in your head over and over after your head hits the pillow that night, and continues to repeat the following morning as Tasha rouses you from sleep to get you ready for your "lesson". You don't feel as hungover as you'd expected - "That's because we didn't get totally fucked up like we were supposed to," Tasha says to you with a roll of her eyes - but your face is puffy from all the crying.

You're splashing your face with cold water when you hear Tasha call out, "Hey, I think you have a text."

Heart pounding in your chest you run back to the bedroom and grab your phone from the nightstand, the first time you've checked it since you got back from the bar. Your eyes go wide when you see not just one but two texts from Joel. One from last night, around midnight:

Hope you're having a good night, babygirl. You deserve to have some fun. I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe.❤️

And one from this morning, around seven:

You get home ok? Let me know x

"Don't text him back," Tasha advises over your shoulder, "Keep him sweating a bit, you're leaving soon anyway."

You nod slowly, still staring at the messages, especially the one from last night. When had he sent that? Had he still been at the bar? Still with her? Did he take her home? That familiar sadness and betrayal from last night bubbles in your throat again, tears pricking in your eyes.

No. You will not cry anymore.

You let your phone fall onto the bed and turn on the spot, marching back to the bathroom like a woman on a mission.

"Tasha, make me fucking hot."

--

The Plan: Go to your lesson with Joel. Talk to him about what you saw. Tell him how you feel. And look good doing it.

Communication. Simple. It certainly seems easier said than done; you've never been very good at communication. Your whole life has been spent suppressing your true feelings and your true self for crying out loud - the concept of being completely vulnerable and honest with someone is terrifying. But you know that it's necessary for your heart, and you also know that if you're going to be able to be vulnerable with anyone, it's Joel. He's already seen glimpses of the broken parts of you, not to mention seen you completely naked. How much harder can it get?

And nothing can be worse than how you felt last night.

Tasha essentially makes you her very own doll for the majority of the morning - doing your makeup, styling your hair, choosing your outfit - and you're surprised to find that you don't hate any of it, have no notes or critiques or changes to make. You stand in the bathroom staring at yourself in the mirror with your eyebrows raised, lips parted in admiration at a job well done.

"I look good," you say with a smile, and Tasha grins at your reflection, "I mean it, Tasha. Like, I still look like me, but..."

"All I did was accentuate what you already have, my love," she replies, reaching forward to fix a piece of hair that's not sitting quite right, "You're just a gorgeous human, inside and out."

You can't help but feel touched at her words, lips turning down into a pout as your hands come up to touch your heart, "Tasha-"

She waves you away, shaking her head, "Bitch, do not get sappy on me right now. Save those doe eyes for Mr. Miller."

Twenty minutes later you're winding through the suburban streets of your neighborhood. You're about half an hour early; Tasha had wanted you to be fashionably late but there's only so much of yourself you can alter in such a short amount of time, your punctuality being one of them. You figure you'll just drive around for a bit to build up your courage, plan out your words.

Joel, I saw you at the bar last night. I saw the woman. And I'm not mad, I'm just....

Joel, my feelings were really hurt last night...

Joel, I can't believe you would kiss another woman after everything we've been doing. Do I not mean anything to you at all? Do I-

Nothing really seems like the right thing to say. You figure once you're standing in front of him the words will just come naturally, flow easily in a way that makes sense and articulates your feelings properly. You can only hope.

You've still got about fifteen minutes before your lesson but you figure there's no point in continuing to circle the area - you're just delaying the inevitable. With a heavy sigh and a few quiet words of encouragement directed at your rearview mirror, you turn onto Joel's street, gripping the wheel tightly and trying to keep your breathing as even as possible. You can do this. You can do this.

You're a few houses down from his when you see it.

Panic turns to shock. Shock turns to confusion. Confusion turns to anger. Anger turns to sadness.

You're already pressing Tasha's number in your contacts before you can fully collect your thoughts.

"What is it? Did you go in?"

"There's a car in his driveway," you hiss through your teeth, feeling the tears spring to your eyes again, your hand coming up to cover your mouth, "She stayed the fucking night, Tasha. He fucking slept with her."

"You don't know that," Tasha replies quickly, calmly, already trying to calm you down, "Maybe it's his, maybe he has another car."

"He doesn't have another car, Tasha," your voice is stoic despite the lump in your throat, "He has his truck and that's it. Joel Miller doesn't drive a purple fucking convertible."

"A purple convertible?" Tasha repeats, voice faltering now, processing the information, "Jesus Christ."

You stare at the driveway, at the car in question - you're still a few houses down so it's hard to see any specific details, but you're sure you can make out a pair of fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror inside. This is definitely not Joel's vehicle by any means. Your stomach is in knots, unsure what the fuck you're supposed to do now; you'd thought briefly of the possibility that he'd slept with her, and up until this moment you'd been prepared to hear him admit it to you. But you hadn't expected it to really be true, to almost come face to face with the woman herself.

"I don't understand," Tasha suddenly says on the other line, "He knows you're coming for your lesson, why the fuck would he still have her in the house?"

"I don't know," your voice is almost a whisper, thick with sadness and disbelief, "I- oh shit." You cut yourself off and sink deep into your front seat when you catch the front door of his house opening, eyes going wide as you watch two figures emerge out onto the front step.

"What's happening?" Tasha asks frantically - you can practically hear her pacing on the other end, "Talk to me!"

"They're coming out!" you hiss, "They're on the fucking front step."

"Oh, honey, you gotta leave. You're not gonna wanna see this, you need to just turn around and come back," her voice is full of disappointment, anger that mirrors your own, "I'm serious, this is just-"

"Shhh," you peer over the dashboard at them, squinting against the sun. You can make out Joel's broad back in the early morning light, can recognize one of his band t-shirts and his signature bedhead, pointing in all directions. You can see him, but it's difficult to make out the figure he's with, his body blocking her almost entirely from you. "I think she's leaving."

You watch with a mix of rage and horror as he suddenly leans down and wraps his arms around her, her own winding around his broad form as her hands interlock together behind his back. Your eyebrows raise in confusion, mouth dropping open.

"It's not the same woman," you whisper.

"What do you mean it's not the same woman?"

"Literally that," you breathe, shaking your head and feeling a few tears begin to make their way down your cheeks, "It's not the one from last night, it's someone else."

"How do you know?"

"Because the woman last night was black and this girl isn't, I can see her arms," you snap, a sob threatening to burst its way past your lips, "And this one's shorter, he has to bend down to hug her."

"To hug her?!" Tasha echoes, "What the fuck?"

You watch as they separate from one another, watch with rage burning in your chest as she walks down the steps toward her car. You can see her better now, get a good look at her in the few seconds it takes her to reach the driver's side door. She's wearing a pink dress, frilled at the bottom with a pair of white sandals - she looks young. You're already redacting your prior statement about her not being black - now that she's properly in view, you can see the brown softness of her skin, her afro textured hair plaited neatly into two rows. But it's not the same woman.

"So, what, he had two girls in one night? Is that what you're telling me?" Tasha is saying in your ear while you continue to stare at the woman, watch her open the car door and climb inside with one last wave to Joel, "Hello?"

"I - I don't know. I'm-" you watch Joel wave to her and then head back inside the house, presumably to wait for you to arrive. Your stomach is tight and painful, bile in your throat all over again. "You were right," you whisper, tears cascading down onto your bare legs, "I didn't need to see this."

--

So much for not crying anymore.

You're back on the couch again, wrapped up like a burrito staring at the wall while Tasha paces back and forth around the living room in front of you, talking a mile a minute.

"It was a whole different story when it was just the one girl," she's ranting, hands on her hips and eyes narrowed in anger, "But two? Two girls. In one fucking night. And one of them is half his age," she scoffs, almost a growl, "So what, he just does this in his spare time? Fucks around with girls' hearts and bodies and then acts like some tough, macho contractor with a busy schedule? Please."

You don't need to remind her that you're also half his age - you know she'd come up with a reason why you're different, why you're the exception. And you do appreciate that, but the more she talks the more you're starting to realize that maybe that's never been the case. Maybe you weren't some beautiful coincidence that wandered into Joel's life - maybe he's been doing this for a long time.

Your gaze follows her as she walks around, pacing the same circle over and over again around the coffee table; it's typical Tasha - you've seen her do this on numerous occasions before, but never on your behalf. Your phone suddenly vibrates on the table and your heads both snap toward it, plunging the room into silence. You already know it's him - who else would be texting you this early? You reach over and unlock it, eyes scanning the message:

Where are you?

"He's wondering why I haven't shown up," you say quietly, voice still hoarse from all the crying.

"What a fucking prick. Do not reply," she resumes her pacing, "Two girls the night before he's supposed to have a date with you. Who does that? Who actually does that? Men, that's who. Men do that. I'm swearing off them forever after this. Seriously, I mean it. What the fuck."

You appreciate her concern, appreciate that she's no longer arguing on Joel's behalf, but her words cut you deep regardless. The whole situation still feels surreal. How is it that just over twenty four hours ago he was kissing you softly, sweetly, peering at you with those beautiful brown eyes and telling you he had something special planned for your lesson? What had he wanted to try, a fucking threesome?

"I don't know him at all," you whisper softly, sadly, "I never did. He's a stranger. A complete stranger who I was stupid enough to trust."

Your words seem to touch something in Tasha. She stops her pacing, slowly turns toward you with that empathetic look again and then carefully steps toward the couch, sitting down on the end.

"He just... he was there," you continue, lip trembling, "My parents were being so controlling and I was literally thinking about just... just leaving, finding some way to get back to campus without them knowing and then I heard that fucking guitar and-" you hiccup through a sob, clutching your hand to your chest, "I should've known then. I should've just kept walking. He asked me to come in, Tasha. He wanted to fuck me, then and there. And when I said no I guess I... I became some sort of challenge. Just a stupid, naïve little Catholic girl he could fuck and dump. And I fell for it, hook line and sinker."

She places a hand on your calf, just like she had last night, stroking gently up and down, "You're not stupid," she murmurs, "You're just a girl. A girl experiencing something really special for the first time. And I'm sorry he took that experience from you."

You manage to smile at her, soft and sincere. Despite everything, it feels good to have a friend, to not be alone when you're feeling like this. To be validated and comforted. You have no idea how you'd be processing all of this without Tasha by your side, if you'd have even been able to leave your bed this morning.

"This is so not what I wanted this weekend to be," she suddenly sighs, putting her head in her hands, "I wanted you to have fun, be free. And here you are feeling like shit about yourself. It's not fair."

She's right. It's not fair.

You take a deep breath, then carefully pry yourself out from underneath your blanket, rolling off the couch and coming to stand in front of Tasha with a determined expression on your face.

"You didn't dress me to the nines just for me to cry and feel sorry for myself on the couch," you say confidently, doing your best to wipe away your tears without completely smearing away Tasha's hard work, "I don't wanna think about Joel anymore. I don't wanna cry about Joel anymore. You know what I wanna do?"

She looks up at you, a grin slowly spreading across her face, "Go have fun and be free?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

--

You never thought you'd be the kind of person to go day drinking, but here you are. Tasha had fixed your makeup and then gotten all dolled up herself, ready for a whole day of doing exactly what you'd both set out to do this weekend: have fun.

Your first stop is a little bistro within walking distance of the Airbnb; you already know that neither of you will be fit to drive by the time this is all over, so you stick to places that are relatively close to the house. As you sip your cocktails and dig into a plate of sandwiches, Tasha informs you that she'd purposely booked this house in particular because of its proximity to the local club scene - you're not surprised in the slightest.

Your phone vibrates a few times while you're eating but you don't check it, forcing yourself to avoid reading anything else Joel has to say to you. It's only when it actually rings, two cocktails deep and plate empty, that you briefly consider picking it up.

"Nope," Tasha says, grabbing the phone from you and canceling the call before you can answer, "No more Joel today, we agreed."

"No more Joel," you repeat, nodding. You let her slip your phone into her own purse after putting it on silent - you know she'll keep it safe, and you know it's for the best.

--

You spend the majority of the afternoon popping in and out of local bars and boutiques, shopping and chatting to your hearts content as your body adjusts to the constant thrum of alcohol running through your system, making your head a bit foggy in the best way. It's like nothing really matters except this moment, right now, the beat of live music here and there as the sun gets lower in the sky, the conversations drifting past, the smell of food wafting out of restaurants. Tasha is a constant presence at your side, arm linked with yours as she dishes on all the drama of her life you've missed thus far this summer.

You don't think about Joel.

It's obvious throughout your little adventures throughout the day that people - particularly men - gravitate to Tasha very easily. You're not sure if it's simply because of how gorgeous she is - all curves and plump lips and dark curls down to her waist, purple cowboy hat askew above her perfectly applied makeup - or because she's simply a light. She's so bubbly and completely herself, smiling and laughing and dancing, never apologetic or ashamed. It feels good to have a girl like that in your corner, helping you out of your shell, only wanting what's best for you.

You realize as the day passes that you're beginning to mimic her behavior a bit. Whether it's due to the alcohol or your admiration for her, you're not sure, but either way you can feel yourself loosening up, allowing yourself to be more uninhibited, less insecure, not caring if people are looking at you. And people are definitely starting to look at you.

"Dude over there is staring at you," Tasha says quietly to you as you sip margaritas on the back deck of a country bar. You're now wearing her cowboy hat, stolen it after what can only be described as a predictable turn of events where she'd rode the mechanical bull and lost it in one particularly hard buck. You'd picked it up off the floor and placed it on your head, laughing hysterically as the bull threatened to launch Tasha across the room.

"Where?" your eyes go wide as you take a long sip, waiting for her to point him out. She nods at something behind you and you do your best to slowly turn around, not wanting to be too obvious. In your drunken state, however, it's not very smooth. You almost topple off the chair as you spin in place to find who she's talking about.

Through your laughter you spot him. Typical young Texan - floppy blonde hair and a strong jawline, sun-kissed skin and a white smile that practically glimmers against the sunset. He nods to you when he sees you looking, tilts his head to the side a bit and winks.

You turn back to Tasha, shaking your head, "He is not looking at me," you feel your skin heating up, not just from the alcohol, "There's no way."

"He is looking at you," Tasha reiterates, placing her empty glass down on the table, "You're fucking hot."

Your mind can't help but flash back to freshman year, that godforsaken party when another boy with a similar appearance had looked your way. The hope you'd felt, the desire, the confidence... all of it fading when he approached and chose your friend to talk to instead, not even bothering to glance your way despite standing right there beside her. You can't help but worry that it's happening all over again.

But then you hear a deep voice behind you, southern and sexy: "Pardon me, but I just had to tell you, I think you're the prettiest girl I ever saw."

Your eyes widen and you spin back around, still half expecting him to be talking to Tasha, not you, but his green eyes connect with yours instead. His gaze holds you there, your lips parting with no words coming out as you stare up at him in shock.

"She was just telling me that you're not so bad yourself," Tasha offers with a smile, nudging you under the table with her heel, "Right?"

"R-right," you manage to stammer out, still staring open-mouthed at this gorgeous specimen that has somehow decided that you're the girl he wants to talk to right now. The prettiest girl he ever saw.

He smiles at that, toothy and beautiful, "I'm Noah," he puts his hand out for you to take and you do, grasping it tightly and trying to hold on to the reality of this moment, the way his soft skin feels against yours, the way your brain is buzzing with amazement - and tequila.

Tasha's foot hits your ankle again and you quickly splutter out your name, releasing his hand and awkwardly placing yours back in your lap. You feel the bare skin of your thigh and you're suddenly hyperaware of how exposed you are right now - this dress certainly doesn't leave much up to the imagination. Your thighs and breasts are practically spilling out of it, pink material clinging to your body. But he isn't looking at any of that - he's looking at your face.

"It's real nice to meet you," he says with another smile, "Can I buy you a drink?" he suddenly looks at Tasha, like he's only just remembered she's sitting there, "And one for your friend too, of course."

"She'd love one," Tasha answers for you, nudging her arm against yours gently, "We'll both have another margarita."

Noah nods once, sets his gaze to your face again with a smile, then disappears inside the bar to go order the drinks.

The second he's gone it's like you're released from some sort of spell he'd put you under. Your heart is suddenly pounding in your chest, breaths coming shorter as you turn to Tasha with utter horror.

"What happened to swearing off all men?" you hiss, brow furrowing.

"Please, Noah isn't a man, he's a boy," she scoffs with a smile, twirling her hair between her fingers, "And I know alllll about boys."

--

You don't know how it happens, somehow lost the plot about halfway into your second margarita, but Noah is going to the club with you.

You are drunk. You know this for a fact. You hadn't been expecting to already feel this fucked up upon setting foot in the club but here you are, Tasha on one arm and Noah on the other. Tasha's had just as much to drink as you but doesn't seem anywhere near as intoxicated as you feel, continuing to be her excitable self when the bass drops and the neon lights start to dance across her skin. She's stolen back her cowboy hat but you've somehow gained your own - you think it might be Noah's.

"LET'S DANCE!" she screeches, pulling you away from Noah and dragging you onto the dance floor. You watch with slightly blurred vision as he goes in the opposite direction, toward the bar, probably to order more drinks.

The music is loud, the dance floor full of people, bodies swaying back and forth, people jumping up and down, grinding on one another, screaming conversations over the heavy bass. The lights are bright and it feels like all of your senses have been heightened, like you can feel, taste, see, and hear everything in your immediate vicinity to the utmost degree. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but you can feel it in other places too - your feet, your kneecaps, your skin.

"I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!" Tasha screams to you, throwing her hands up in the air and spinning on the spot, smile wide and joyous as she starts to dance, "DANCE WITH ME, COME ON!"

Your senses are overloading but you try your best to match her energy, copy her movements, focus on just this instead of everything else that's going on around you. This is what you've been missing all these years; this is what you've been waiting to experience. Enjoy it. You let your inhibitions flow and just exist in this moment, having fun with your best friend, far away from anyone who would ever judge you for being here. Far away from your parents and your neighbors and Bethany and -

No. You do not think about Joel.

You and Tasha dance to about three songs before she's tugging you away from the dance floor and over to the bar, back to where Noah is leaning with a beer bottle perched against his lips. He smiles when he sees you approaching, gestures to the little mini drinks beside him, small enough to only have about a thumb of liquid in each.

"Shots!" Tasha squeals, clapping her hands together, "Shots, shots, shots!" She picks one up and hands it to you, then grabs her own, "Come on, Noah, do one with us!"

Noah still can't seem to keep his eyes off you, though you've begun to notice that he's no longer just looking at your face anymore. This time his eyes fall to your breasts as he puts down his beer bottle and replaces it with one of the shot glasses, gaze falling down to your legs before finding your eyes again.

You catch a glint of something darker there, something seductive, and as you bring the glass to your lips you're suddenly aware that beneath the alcohol you feel a bit... uneasy.

--

You're fucked up. You're really fucked up.

Tasha doesn't leave your side, something you're extremely grateful for. You're starting to have difficulty seeing straight, even walking is becoming confusing, let alone dancing. You grip Tasha's shoulders tightly on the dance floor as you both sway to the music, unsure exactly how long it's been since you arrived at the club. She's looking at you with hazy eyes, much drunker now than she was earlier, and your very intoxicated brain is wondering if you're actually going to leave at some point or whether you're just stuck here for the rest of eternity.

You can feel Noah against your back. He's grinding against you to the song, hands on your hips as his groin presses firmly into your ass. It's weird, being in a Tasha-Noah sandwich that you didn't really sign up for. You're too drunk to really know what you want, actually. You feel fine having Tasha this close, feel safe in her embrace, but Noah's presence is starting to make you feel a bit uncomfortable.

"I'm really drunk," you slur, but it's too quiet for either Tasha or Noah to hear you. Tasha just nods as if she understands, head tilting back and mouth popping open as another song begins. She mouths something, probably I love this song, something she's said about ten times tonight.

Noah pulls you in closer, almost like he's tugging you away from Tasha, but your voice is too faint under the music for your protests to be heard. His arms come up to wrap around your middle, and you feel the unmistakable shape of his cock dip down between your cheeks through your dress. At first you think maybe it's unintentional, but then he does it again, and again, like he's using your body to get himself off. On the fucking dance floor.

"Let go of me," you breathe, but it's lost to the music. You watch as Tasha gets further away, your arms dropping completely from her shoulders as she turns and starts to spin on the spot, still staring up at the ceiling, unaware of what's happening. "Stop," you mumble, feeling his clothed cock rub against you again, a sensation you're now familiar with but certainly not in this context. And certainly not with someone who isn't Joel Miller.

The thought of Joel is what does it.

"STOP," you practically scream, yanking yourself away from him and taking a few heavy steps back, shaking your head frantically, "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME."

A few people are turning to look and Noah seems more than embarrassed, hands going up quickly. He's drunk too, you can see it in his face, in his eyes, but you already know he's certainly not the harmless young Texan you thought he was. That feeling of unease earlier sure as hell hadn't been the alcohol talking.

You feel a hand at your waist and you flinch but only for a second, gaze coming to rest on Tasha who's now standing beside you with a look of pure horror on her face.

"What'd he do?" she asks, voice panicked and quick, almost like she's not even drunk anymore, "Are you okay?"

You nod but you can feel tears in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any second. Your ears are ringing like they had last night, but it's different this time, almost like you're underwater as Tasha grips your arm and leads you toward the front of the club, away from the loud music and drunk people. Away from Noah.

"Oh my fucking god, I am so sorry," her voice is shaking with emotion when you get out onto the street, hand holding tight to your arm, "I didn't even notice what he was doing. Jesus fucking Christ," she pulls out her phone and dials the number for a cab - through your bleary eyes you see a few teardrops dribble down the bridge of her nose, "We're going home, I'm so sorry, honey."

"S'okay," you manage to garble out through your tears, flowing heavily now in your drunken state, "It happened really fast."

"Doesn't make it okay," she replies, bringing the phone to her ear.

No, it doesn't.

--

"I want Joel," you whisper through your tears once you're settled in the back seat of the cab, Tasha beside you with her hand resting soothingly on your arm.

"What, honey?" Tasha asks softly, "Say it again, can't hear you."

"I want Joel," you repeat, words slurred as your hands come up to cover your face, "I don't wanna go home. I want Joel."

"We can't go to Joel's," Tasha murmurs, stroking your arm, "It's almost three in the morning, he's asleep."

"I want Joel," you repeat, "I wanna see him."

"I need an address," the cab driver says over his shoulder; he's already started running the meter, "Don't got all night, girls."

Before Tasha can say anything you're spluttering out Joel's address through a sob. Tasha starts to protest but you shake your head furiously, tears scattering everywhere, "I'll just walk," you mumble adamantly, "If you change it I'll just get out and walk."

"But-"

"You owe me," you practically spit, "You owe me after what just happened." You don't mean it, but your brain is nowhere near sober enough to fully realize that. And neither is hers.

She doesn't say anything else.

--

It's very strange being back in your neighborhood not sober. Your mind is still ridiculously fuzzy from the alcohol but part of you is able to acknowledge how crazy it is that you're back here so late at night in such a drunken state, driving through the dark streets while your parents are none the wiser. The cab passes by your house and you find yourself ducking down into the seat, afraid they might see you despite it being almost three o'clock in the morning.

"Can you just keep the meter running?" Tasha asks the cab driver quietly as you approach Joel's house, "I'm not staying, I just wanna make sure she gets in okay and that someone's here to help her."

"You're not coming in," you mutter, voice still slurred and heavy. You don't look at her as you say it.

"I'll just wait in the car for a few minutes then," she says quietly, just as the cab comes to a stop in Joel's driveway.

His truck is here, just like this morning. Except this time there's no purple convertible blocking him in, no other woman standing on the front step hugging him, waving to him.

Anger rises in your chest at the memory.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," Tasha says softly - what happened earlier has clearly sobered her up, almost no trace of drunkenness in her speech, "He's asleep, there aren't any lights on."

"Then I'll wake him up," you mumble, opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night air.

"I'll wait here for a few-," she calls out to you but you slam the door before she can finish her sentence.

You're not sure why you're suddenly being so mean to her. That is, until you stagger up Joel's front steps and feel even more rage bubbling inside you at the thought of standing where he'd stood this morning, where she'd stood this morning. Where the woman from the bar had probably stood too. Oh. You're an angry drunk.

Without any hesitation you push down on the doorbell. You don't bother to wait in silence; you just keep pushing it and pushing it over and over, hearing the dull sound of the bell dinging inside the house. You're vaguely aware of a light being turned on behind the frosted glass as you lean your hand against the door, suddenly feeling dizzy now that you're standing again.

The door opens and you practically fall through it, squinting against the sudden bright light and bringing your hands up to your face as you stagger inside. You feel someone catch you, big hands coming to rest atop both of your arms, and then your name being said in a deep voice, husky with sleep.

Joel.

"Are you okay?" he asks somewhere above you; your ears are ringing again and his voice is loud and muffled, that underwater feeling coming back. You try to mumble something but it comes out an incoherent garble.

You feel him pull you inside, hear the door shut behind you as he kicks it closed with his foot. He guides you inside the living room and your eyes shut tightly against the brightness of the overhead light, shining down on top of you like a spotlight.

"Too bright," you manage to mumble out, bringing your hands up to cover your face. You find yourself being seated on the couch before the light is switched off, plunging you both into total darkness.

"Baby, what happened?" you hear him ask, voice still swimming thickly through your muted ears, "I've been so fuckin' worried about you, where've you been? Where'd you go?" you feel his hands take yours, gripping them tightly. They're so rough and callused, nothing at all like Noah's, and it makes you smile.

"Feels nice," you mutter, already forgetting what he asked you.

"What'd you take?" he asks, and you suddenly realize that there's a very frantic edge to his voice, thick with worry and... fear? "Huh? Tell me what you took so I can help."

"D-didn't take anything," you hiccup, shaking your head slowly.

"Christ, babygirl," he mutters, squeezing your hands again, "Where were you? I called you so many times, I texted you, I-"

"Tasha's got my phone," you mumble.

"Where's Tasha? She alright?"

"In the cab."

"Jesus," he releases your hand and stands up, turns on a dim lamp in the corner of the room so you're not in total darkness anymore. You watch with hooded eyes as he opens the front door again, walks out onto the step and starts gesturing something into the darkness. He looks ridiculous, waving his arms like that - it makes you giggle.

He turns around and walks back over to you with long strides. You can see his face more clearly now, expression lined with worry. He looks tired. He probably is.

"Just wanted you," you mutter, staring at him.

Before he can say anything Tasha is suddenly walking in through the door, expression stoic as she passes the threshold. She avoids Joel's gaze completely, looking only at you.

"What the fuck happened?" Joel asks her, any sort of introductory pleasantries gone out the window, "Where's she been? What'd she take?"

"Nice to meet you too," Tasha grumbles, hitching her purse over her shoulder and walking over to where you sit on the couch, "She's fine, we went clubbing and she got drunk. I'll take her back."

"No you fuckin' won't," he says indignantly, moving to stand directly in front of you with his arms crossed, "How could you let this happen to her? She's never done shit like this before, you know that right? She's never been drunk in her fuckin' life and you bring her back like this? You ever heard of takin' it fuckin' slow?"

"Oh please, like I'm gonna take advice from you," she snaps back, walking around him and reaching down to take your hand, "Come on, honey, we need to go. Now."

"She's not goin' with you, she's stayin' here," his voice is loud, louder than you've ever heard it. In fact, you don't think you've ever seen him mad before. It's strange, seeing the way his eyes narrow, his mouth downturned into an angry frown, fists tight against his chest.

"I only brought her here because she said she'd jump out and walk if I didn't," Tasha argues, voice firm, "She's safe with me."

"Safe, huh?" he scoffs, "So why the fuck do you have her phone? Do you know how many times I've tried to call her in the past fuckin' twelve hours? I was this close to callin' the fuckin' police."

"If anyone here needs the fucking police called on them it's you," Tasha's voice is louder now, every word echoing in your brain, "Fucking creep."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Your drunken brain can't process much of what's going on at all, both Tasha and Joel's voices blending into one constant loud noise. You bring your hands up to your head and cover your ears, though it can only do so much to block out their voices. What they're saying still manages to come through, albeit muffled and distant.

"You heard what I said. Fucking. Creep." Tasha repeats, "She knows what you've been doing, you asshole."

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

"What, don't have the balls to admit it?"

"Admit what?"

"Stop," you say loudly, bringing your hands down from your ears, "Stop yelling, you're hurting my head."

Joel crouches down, picks up your hands and takes them in his again, peering into your eyes. You can't see him properly anymore and you hate it, can only make out bits and pieces as your eyesight just continues to get worse the longer you sit here. You feel sleepy, almost like you're on the edge of unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, thumbs stroking yours gently, "I'm sorry, babygirl. I'll stop yellin'."

You close your eyes, nodding and breathing deeply in and out, loving the feeling of having him touching you again. It's almost like last night didn't happen, like this morning didn't happen.

Last night. This morning.

You suddenly yank your hands away from him, eyes going wide as you remember exactly why you're even here in the first place, why you wanted to get fucked up to begin with. His face comes back into view again, expression confused.

"I know what you've been doing," you hiss, echoing Tasha's words and scooting away from him. You reach your hand up for her to take and she grips it tightly, helping you get up.

"Babygirl," he says softly, brown eyes tender and soft as he eases himself up from the floor, "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

"We saw you," Tasha says then, linking her arm with yours, "At the bar last night." She means business now, you can hear it in her voice, "We saw you kiss someone else."

His expression changes instantly. Worry, anger, concern... all of it gone in a single second.

"That's what I thought," Tasha says firmly, then carefully eases you out of the living room, walks with you as far as the porch before you hear Joel speak.

His voice is quiet, shaky, "It's not what you think."

"Then what is it, exactly?" Tasha turns then, rounding on him again while you cling to her arm, "You're not playing her? You didn't waste weeks of her life making her feel special only for it to turn out you're just like the rest of them?"

He doesn't say anything and you can't bring yourself to look at him, heart in your throat and tears in your eyes once again as you stare at the hardwood floor.

"I didn't... that's not what..." he finally breathes, "It's not what you think. That's all I can say."

"That's all you can say?"

"Well, I can hardly fuckin' explain myself when she won't remember it, can I?" his voice is raw, hitching on the last few words, "Nothin'... nothin' happened other than some kissin'. It didn't go any further, I swear."

"And I'm just supposed to believe you?"

"I'm not askin' you to believe me," he breathes, "But that's the truth. That's the fuckin' truth, swear on my life."

"And what about the girl she saw leaving this morning?"

He's quiet again for a moment. You're still afraid to look at him, can barely even comprehend that this conversation is even really happening right now.

"That was - Jesus, I never wanted you to find out like this," he mutters, and Tasha laughs without humor.

"Yeah, you thought it'd just stay your little secret, huh?" It's hard to believe she's had just as much to drink as you have tonight - you wouldn't know it by the way she handles herself now, the way she speaks to Joel like she already knows him. She's done this before. She's no stranger to confronting men who did her wrong, or in this case, her friend.

"That was my daughter," he says softly.

Tasha freezes.

The words do their best to seep into your skin, to make their way into the sober depths of your brain that lie dormant, somewhere hidden. You still feel so fuzzy, bleary eyed and heavy and confused, but the words register somehow.

You slowly unhook your arm from Tasha's to finally look up from the floor, moving your gaze to Joel's still form. He's standing there by the couch, arms still crossed across his chest but not angry anymore, a look of pure sadness and shame on his face. He looks small.

"Y-you have a daughter?" you whisper.

"Yes," he replies softly, eyes slowly lifting to meeting yours, "And the woman at the bar, that was her mother. My ex wife." You see tears shining in his eyes, watch as his lip trembles as he softly whispers, "And I swear - I swear it never went further than some kisses. And it won't go any further than that ever again."

You feel Tasha reach down and squeeze your hand. What she's trying to communicate to you, you're not sure. You just stand there staring at him, unable to process this information in your current state, head swimming and ears still ringing.

"I'll tell you everything," he continues quietly, taking a slow step toward you, "When you're feelin' better, I swear. Anythin' you wanna know, I'll tell you." He takes another few steps until he's standing directly in front of you and Tasha, leaning down so he can peer directly into your eyes, "I'm so sorry it happened this way," he whispers, "I never thought - Jesus, I'm just so fuckin' sorry."

You swallow tightly around the lump in your throat, completely unsure of how you feel, of what you're supposed to say or do. Nothing makes sense. Nothing is computing properly.

"You need to take her home," he murmurs, pulling back and turning his attention to Tasha, "Look, I'm sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry," she suddenly breathes, "I was- wow, that's... I mean, I wasn't expecting that. I'm sorry. I just, I thought-"

"It's okay," he replies, voice still a bit stiff, "Just get her back safe, okay? She's-" he cuts himself off to look at you again, eyes peering down at you sadly. "She's special."

Tasha nods, "I know she is."

The last thing you remember, the last thing that's at least semi-clear in your mind, is the soft look of affection on his face as he stands on his doorstep and watches you go.

--

You're not sure exactly what time it is when you wake up on Sunday. The only thing you're sure of is that your head is pounding and the sun streaming through the window is only making it worse. You roll over in bed and press your face into the pillow with a low moan.

You're never drinking that much ever again.

There's movement beside you and you open your eyes briefly to see Tasha laying in a similar position, still in her dress from yesterday, face smooshed into her own pillow. You can't remember how you got back, memories extremely hazy and shrouded completely in too much alcohol. The last thing you can remember is being at Joel's house, of the brief conversation he had with Tasha, the words he'd said to you...

My ex wife.

It never went further than some kisses.

That was my daughter.

Now that your brain isn't under the influence, you can finally think straight, can finally process everything he said to you last night. Or at least what you can remember. You roll over again with another moan, sensing nausea in the pit of your stomach.

"The hangover is the worst part," Tasha mumbles, and you turn your head to see her looking at you through messy mascara, smudged and smeared all over her eyes, "But you'll be okay."

You stare at her for a few seconds, everything else from the night before slowly coming back to you in bits and pieces. The club, Noah, the way you'd snapped at her...

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, "Tasha, I was so fucking mean to you."

The part of her lips that you can see curve upward into a smile and she shakes her head slowly, "It's all water under the bridge, babe," she murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep, "You had every right."

"No, I didn't. That stuff with Noah, that wasn't your fault."

"I should've known better than to invite him along," she sighs deeply, "I just wanted you to have fun, you know? I wanted you to forget about..." she trails off, biting her lip.

"I know," you breathe, "And I did, for a while. You couldn't have known about Noah, he certainly had me fooled."

She nods, closing her eyes and nuzzling the pillow a bit. You both lay there in silence, the elephant in the room growing bigger and bigger the longer you go without talking about it.

"So, Joel's got a daughter," you finally whisper, "And an ex wife."

She opens her eyes again, raising an eyebrow, "I'm surprised you remember that. You were pretty fucked up."

You wince, "Did I completely embarrass myself?"

"No, not at all," her hand comes up to touch your shoulder gently, thumbing the skin there, "You stood your ground, you did good. And now... now we know the truth."

"The truth," you echo.

More silence. It's like neither of you really knows what to say to the other. You're sure Tasha has already formulated her own opinion, has probably known since last night exactly how she feels about the whole thing. And that scares you a bit - because what if she doesn't feel the same way you do?

And how exactly do you feel about it anyway?

"I think he texted you again a little while ago," she finally says softly, pointing toward your phone on the night stand, "I heard it when I got up to use the bathroom. And there's a lot of texts there from yesterday. He, uh-" she bites her lip, "He was really worried about you, honey."

You reach over and pick up your phone, taking a deep breath before unlocking it and looking at the damage: 9 texts. 18 missed calls.

Shit. You suppose it makes sense. The last time you'd talked to him was on Friday morning in his kitchen, when you'd told him you were planning on going out with Tasha and having a girl's weekend, finally having your college experiences. He hadn't known anything that happened between then and last night, hadn't known you'd seen him at the bar, that you'd gone to his house on Saturday morning and left again, not giving him any explanation as to why you hadn't shown up for your lesson. To him, it had just been complete radio silence.

With a shaky finger you press his name, heart pounding as the unanswered text messages flood your screen. First, the three you've already seen:

Hope you're having a good night, babygirl. You deserve to have some fun. I'll see you tomorrow. Be safe.❤️

You get home ok? Let me know x

Where are you?

And everything else:

???

Hey, I'm worried about you. Give me a call or a text ok?

Please call me.

I'm outta my mind over here baby. Please let me know you're alright.

I'm scared for you. Last I heard you were going out with your friend and then nothing since. Please call.

Just a text is all I need honey. I promise. If you're not feeling this anymore that's okay. Just wanna know you got home safe last night.

I'm so worried about you. I can't sleep. Please call me.

I don't know what to do angel. Can't stop thinking about you. Wish you were here in my arms. Please be safe.

Please.

The most recent text was sent this morning, around ten:

I'm so sorry. Words can't even describe how fucking ashamed and embarrassed I am. I can't imagine how horrible that must have been for you. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, but I want to tell you everything, if you'll let me. I hope you're feeling okay today, angel. Drink lots of water, stay with Tasha. Text me whenever you're ready.

"Did you read these?" you ask Tasha softly, eyes unmoving from the last text, scanning the words over and over.

"No," she replies, "Just saw the notifications."

You scroll back up and read them again, and again, like you'll somehow be able to rewind time if you just keep reading them. You can't believe there's this many, can't believe that the man who'd been so distant the past week is the same man who sent you all of these.

The same man with a whole other life he never told you about.

"What do I do?" you whisper.

Tasha sighs, then carefully pulls herself up to lean against the headboard, crossing her legs and looking over at you, "What do you wanna do?"

You lock your phone again and sit up beside her, exhaling deeply, "I don't know."

You both sit there in silence for a few moments, lost in thought. You can't explain it but you feel nowhere near as betrayed or angry as you'd felt yesterday. Rage is no longer present - and neither is sadness. The only way you can describe how you feel is... relieved.

"He has a daughter and an ex wife," you state.

"He does."

"He has a daughter and an ex wife," somehow saying it again makes it feel more real, but the words still don't trigger any strong emotions. You sigh and look at Tasha, urging her to say something else.

"So, other than that, what's changed?" she asks.

You bite your lip and turn away from her again, shrugging your shoulders slowly, "I mean, that's... that's a lot."

"It is," she agrees softly, "It is a lot."

You swallow, fingers playing with the edge of your dress, reminding you that you're still wearing the same outfit from yesterday. God, you need a shower. You need to wash this entire experience off of you.

"You remember where we landed Friday night?" Tasha asks suddenly, "We talked about the possibility of him kissing someone else and we agreed that communication was the way to go, right?"

"That was before we knew he had a daughter and an ex wife, Tasha."

"Yeah, well... now we do know. And we know he's willing to talk to you about it," she twists her mouth in thought, "So do you wanna talk to him about it?"

"...I don't know."

She suddenly eases herself off the bed, stretching her arms above her head and yawning loudly. You watch as she assesses her pillow, grimaces at the dark makeup stains on the white cotton.

"I'm scared," you admit softly, avoiding her gaze.

"What are you scared of?"

You don't know how to answer that, biting your lip and sniffling a bit. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them and leaning your face into your warm skin.

"You're falling in love with him, aren't you?" she asks quietly, absolutely no judgement in her voice, "That's it, isn't it? You're really starting to fall and that's why you're scared."

You can't speak, unable to say anything because you know you'll burst into tears if you do. Instead, you nod your head slowly, up and down against your knees.

"Then you gotta talk to him, honey," she kneels down on the bed, places her hand on your shoulder soothingly, "You gotta hear what he has to say."

You groan, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you stretch out your legs again, turning on the bed and scooching downward to smoosh your face back into the pillow.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Tasha murmurs softly, "I feel disgusting."

"Welcome to the club," you mumble into the pillow.

You're vaguely aware of Tasha moving around you, grabbing things from the nightstand and puttering around the room as she gets ready for her shower. You sense her standing close to you for a bit longer than necessary, like she's just staring at you without really knowing what to say. With a roll of your eyes you turn to face her, and you catch the briefest moment that she places your phone back down on the nightstand.

Your brow furrows, "What are you doing with my phone?"

"Nothing," she says quickly, turning around and leaving the room without another word.

--

You fall back to sleep without meaning to, and when you wake again, it's only because you hear someone talking in the other room, someone with a deep voice. Tasha must be watching a movie. You curl in on yourself a bit, rubbing your eyes and wincing when you feel the makeup smudge across your face. You really should get up and shower.

You suddenly hear footsteps in the hallway, getting closer. But there's something different about them, something heavy in the way they sound against the floorboards.

The door opens and there's just silence for a few seconds, no movement. Then the footsteps return, closer now, slow and unsure.

You know it's him before his weight sinks into the bed.

Oh, Tasha. Of course you did.

You close your eyes as you feel his arms snake around you from behind. You allow him to pull you in close, feel his nose against the back of your neck, his scruff against your shoulder. He smells like his cologne, feels warm and solid against your back, the denim of his jeans brushing against your bare legs.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers.

You immediately turn within his embrace, coming face to face with the man who you've spent the past twenty four hours hating, being angry at, feeling betrayed by - he's looking at you with a tenderness you can't describe, lips downturned into a soft frown that says everything. He's upset. He's ashamed. He's sorry.

"Why did you kiss her?" you whisper.

He takes a breath, "We have this... arrangement," he murmurs, "We've had it for years. Whenever she's in town - which isn't very often, maybe once every three years or so - we sleep together. It's been goin' on for over twenty years now, it's just.. it's just what we do."

You nod slowly, eyes falling to his mouth and then back to his eyes, "But you didn't this time."

"We didn't," he breathes, "I swear to you, we didn't. We went back to my place, we... we were kissin'," he winces but doesn't close his eyes, keeping his gaze on you, "I.. I went to grab a condom out of my bedside table before things got heavy and I-" he cuts himself off, taking another breath.

"What?"

You watch as he reaches down into his pocket, fishes something out. He brings his hand up and extends his fingers, shows you what's sitting in the palm of his hand.

Your crucifix.

"I saw this," he breathes, "And all of a sudden, I just... I just knew I couldn't."

You stare at the gold cross, watch it glint in the sunlight still cascading through the windows. His breath hitches and your gaze goes back to his face, the lines and wrinkles and grey whiskers, his soft brown eyes and curved nose.

"I understand if you can't forgive me," he whispers, tears shining in his eyes, "I don't expect you to, but I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry that I did."

He closes his fist around the crucifix again and slowly brings it downward to your own hand, urging you to open it. He slips the chain past your fingers, goes to pull his hand away, but you stop him. You grip his hand tightly, the cross digging into both of your palms.

"We never established anything," you whisper softly, "We... we've never said that we're anything. It's just been sex."

He doesn't say anything, eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he waits for you to speak again. He's so handsome, so unreal in a way that doesn't make sense to you, and probably never will.

"I wanna be yours," you breathe, meeting his gaze, "I don't want you to be with anyone else."

He leans forward to gently brush his nose to yours, eyes closing as he breathes deeply, the tears spilling over onto his cheeks.

"Okay," he whispers.

You know there's more for him to explain, so many more details you don't have yet that you do want to know. But in this moment, you don't care about any of it. You just want him.

It doesn't take long for you both to be completely undressed, clothes tossed over the sides of the bed as your naked bodies press warmly up against each other, soft and eager. He presses kisses to your neck, breathes you in, runs his fingers through your hair as he hovers above you with absolute need in his eyes, a look you're sure mirrors your own.

He knows you're still not ready without you having to say it. Knows this isn't the right time. There's no need for any words of reassurance or any questions. He knows what you need. You know what he needs.

His cock moves firmly down against your tummy beneath the sheets, his shaft settling perfectly against your pussy, already wet and aching for him like it had been the second he walked into the room. He puts both hands above your head, leans down to kiss you as he drags himself up and down within your folds, up and down, up and down.

It feels incredible, just having the thick length of him rubbing back and forth against your clit, the wide head catching at your entrance every now and then, eliciting a deep groan from Joel and soft whimpers from you. You grip his back tightly, broad and firm and yours, fingertips digging into his skin as he fucks himself against you.

"Feels so good," you whisper in his ear, voice trembling with every thrust, "Feels so good, Joel."

"I know it does, babygirl," he whispers, kissing your ear and grinding himself against you even deeper, moving his hands down to grip your hips as his cock continues to slip back and forth against your folds, "You're so sensitive, aren't you? That big cock feels so good against your little pussy, hm?"

You nod frantically, arms moving up a bit to wrap around his neck, your cheek brushing against his.

"You want a bit of my cock inside your hole, baby?" he whispers softly, secretly, pushing your hair away from your face, "Huh? You want the tip, honey? Just a little bit?"

You don't even have to think.

"Yes," you moan, "Yes, please, put it in, please."

"Okay, baby," he murmurs, pulling back a bit to look down at the mess you're making together, reaching his hand down to position his cock at your entrance, "Just the tip, babygirl, I won't go any further than that. Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," you breathe, and you absolutely mean it, looking up at him with what you're sure is a completely wrecked expression, "I want it, Joel. Please."

He places the head of his cock against your hole gently, very gently. Then he takes your hands from around his neck and holds them in his, presses them up against his chest as he looks deep into your eyes. You look back, gaze never leaving his as he slowly pushes himself inside you - just the tip.

You gasp.

"Shhh," he breathes, squeezing your hands and continuing to peer into your eyes, never breaking eye contact, "Shhh, you're okay," he murmurs, "You're okay, angel."

You lay completely still, lips parting and eyes going hazy as you focus all your energy on experiencing this moment, on feeling the way the head of Joel's cock feels inside of you. It's pulsing, warm and wide and big inside your pussy, throbbing against your walls.

It feels fucking amazing.

"Joel," you whimper, eyes still locked completely on his.

"You're mine," he breathes, jaw tense and eyes alight with something you can only describe as pure passion, "You hear me? You're the only one I want. Don't want anyone else, baby. Nobody."

You nod desperately, thighs shaking as the fat head of his cock pushes inside just a little more, making you squirm. He stills his hips, still holding your hands against his warm chest.

"Look at us," he murmurs, "Just look."

Your gaze finally unlocks from his, eyes trailing downward to where you're connected, where the thick length of his cock juts out from between your legs. You rise a bit on the bed, whimpering as you look down at exactly where he sits inside of you, wet and dark and filthy and fucking beautiful.

"You can take all of me," he whispers, "I know you can, babygirl. But not now, not here."

"I know," you breathe, swallowing and looking up at him again with tears filling your eyes.

He pulls himself out of you then, places his thick and throbbing shaft against your pussy again and begins to thrust, moving downward so he's pressed up tightly against you, your hands caught between each other's bodies, the crucifix still hanging between your fingers.

"I'm gonna take you away with me, okay?" he says, almost a whimper as he stares into your eyes again, intense and focused, "We're gonna go away and I'm gonna tell you everything you wanna know about me, alright? And I'm gonna fuck you, baby. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You're nodding as he speaks, whimpers and whines flowing continuously from your mouth as you near closer and closer to your orgasm, that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger.

"I'll fuck you in the bed, I'll fuck you in the shower, I'll fuck you on the fucking floor," he groans, eyes suddenly shutting and breaking the eye contact he'd managed to hold for so long, his face coming down to bury itself in your neck, "You're mine, angel, you're mine."

"I'm yours," you cry as your climax hits you, knocks the wind out of you as you start to shake beneath him, your hole fluttering against the length of him, "I'm yours, Joel, only yours."

You feel his come hit your stomach, painting your skin as he releases a deep groan into your ear and puts his entire body weight on top of you. You just close your eyes and feel him, exist in this moment for as long as you can, just listening to his breathing match your own as you both come down from your high.

He nuzzles his face against the heat of your neck, squeezes your hand in his between your bodies. The crucifix digs into your palm but you barely feel it.

"I want you to keep it," you whisper in his ear, and he doesn't have to ask what you're talking about, just presses a soft kiss to your neck and finally pulls back to peer down at you with total adoration.

"Okay," he murmurs with a soft smile, "I will."

[rowarn]

PLEASE, LOVE ME. PT 1

simon riley / reader

FIND PART TWO || read the full thing on ao3

tags: childhood friends, friends2lovers, virgin!reader, soft!simon, protective!simon, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, MDNI

cw: reader is over 20, pining, masturbation (reader), loss of virginity, explicit workplace sexual harassment/assault, so much crying, one-sided love, not-really-unrequited love, vomiting, panic attacks, depression, crying, sex related shame, PTSD (reader), codependency but cute, self-deprecating thoughts, slut shaming, wet dream, dry humping, simon fucks up tho, reference to suicide & suicidal ideation, really nasty argument, reader hits simon sorry, apologizes tho!!!, reader struggles to orgasm, drinking, fooling around while drunk (no sex), breast play, fingering, orgasm denial, simon's a tease, p-in-v, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, creampie, mating press, missionary, simon's dirty mouth, dirty talk, wet&messy, big cock, uncut simon bc i said so, reassurance & encouragement, some pain upon penetration, clit spanking, post-coital crying!!!!!!, aftercare, briefly edited so apologies for any lingering mistakes

note: any triggering acts such as harassment/sa are done by a third party, not simon!!! also the sa is not vague or implied, there is a written out scene so please be mindful when you read! thank u to @allsaiint for reading over this and helping!

you've loved him since you were children. after a confession when you were 14 went rejected, you vowed to never let your feelings be known again. but after an incident that left you hurt and fragile, you find it hard to keep that promise.

part 1: 17.8k total: 35.8k

Your muscles were stiff, thighs twitching and trembling as you laid in bed, staring at your water stained ceiling. Your chest rose and fell in time with rapid breathing. You had worn yourself out, caused a wet spot on your bed, yet you remained completely unsatisfied. Your fingers were cramped up and you let out a groan of frustration, rolling over to crawl out of bed. 

It had become a daily ritual at this point, you with your hand between your thighs, rubbing and touching, only to get into the shower completely unsatisfied and embarrassed at your own inability to get yourself off. 

People your age didn’t struggle like this, you convinced yourself.  Your cheeks burned as you stepped under the warm spray from your showerhead, the creaking pipes just background noise to you now. You were broken, that was the only explanation you could think of. 

By the time you got out of the shower and changed your sheets, throwing the dirty ones into the washer, it was evening and a familiar knocking rang through your apartment.

You didn’t even have to answer it before the lock was clicking and the large form of your best friend Simon ducked in. 

“Hey, Simon!” you called cheerfully, excitedly bounding into the room and wrapping your arms around him in greeting. 

He grunted, harshly patting your back in the familiar way he always does before kicking his boots off. When he straightened up, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at you. 

“What's with you?” he asked, a thick, dark brow raised suspiciously. 

“Um,” you stepped back, shrugging as you tried to look nonchalant, “What do you mean?”

“You look…” his eyes raked down your body, clearly assessing you, “You look tense.”

Immediately, your cheeks erupted into flames. Your face felt so hot that you had to bring your hands up to cool them before laughing nervously, “That’s no different than usual.”

He was silent for several, long, grueling seconds before grunting and breezing past you to the kitchen, clearly letting it drop. You took a moment to catch your breath before following him, finding him hunched over looking into your barren refrigerator. 

“Where’s all your fuckin’ food?” he snapped, straightening back up with a huff when he heard you come in behind him.

“Didn’t get a chance to shop this week, Si,” you replied stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why?” he demanded, slamming the appliance closed before heading to your cabinets to do inventory there too.

“Paycheck was short again this week,” you answered, speaking quietly in hopes he wouldn’t look into it anymore than that. 

He angrily slammed a cabinet closed and leaned on his palms against the counter, head hung between his shoulders, “Your boss fuckin’ stiff you again?”

“I-It’s not a big deal, Simon–” you attempted to quell him.

“Not a big deal?” he snapped, slamming his hands down on the counter, making you flinch at the noise. You knew Simon would never, ever hurt you but his anger was something to behold nonetheless, “It is a big deal when you can’t even afford to fuckin’ eat!”

“Simon…” you whisper, anxiously picking at a string on your cotton shorts, “I wasn’t going hungry, I have like…ramen and stuff…”

He says your name through gritted teeth, letting out a frustrated sigh, “Why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t afford proper groceries?”

“I didn’t want to bother you with it, Si,” you mutter, “I-It’s my problem, not yours.”

He gives you a long, unblinking stare. His usual soft, puppy dog brown eyes now felt intimidating. One thing about Simon was that he never hid it when he was clearly upset with you. And knowing he was right now made you hang your head pitifully.

He moves suddenly, tugging his wallet out of his back pocket, pulling out a small stack of clean bills, slapping them on your countertop.

“Simon, no–” you attempt to reach out for them, willing him to take the money back.

He grabs your hand immediately, shoving the appendage away from the money, “You’ll take this and you’ll go to the store tomorrow and get some damn food or I’m going to go to the bar and wrap my fuckin’ hands around your boss’s throat until he coughs up your money.”

“You don’t have to do this, Simon!” you argue, exasperated, “Y-You don’t have to take care of me like this.”

“Yes, I fuckin’ do!” he counters, “You’re my responsibility and I’m not going to let you exist on fuckin’ cup noodles until that shithead pays you properly, not when I can take care of you. Now stop arguing and put this in your wallet now.”

He used that damn Lieutenant voice, leaving no room for argument. You bit your lip and slowly picked up the bills from the counter.

“Thank you, Simon…” you whisper, clutching the money close to your chest as you offer him a wobbly smile.

“Shut up and go,” he huffs, though his voice is much softer and affectionate now. 

You turn on your heel and go to the table by the door, slowly taking the time to place the money safely inside. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. You were so, so lucky to have someone in your life that did everything in his power to take care of you, to look after you and make sure you had food on the table. No one had ever cared about your well-being the way Simon did, and your heart felt incredibly full because of it. 

You could hear him still stalking around the kitchen, grumbling to himself in annoyance. He comes out of the kitchen, phone in hand, before he’s taking a seat on your old, creaky couch. His knee is bouncing up and down in that way it always does. It’s like he’s always a live wire, ready and waiting for something to happen.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, still standing by the table.

He grunts, shaking his head, “Orderin' dinner.”

“Oh,” you mumble, “What’re you getting?”

“Gettin’ from that breakfast diner you like,” he responds quickly, not looking up from his phone. 

“You don’t even like that place,” you giggle, “In the mood for a breakfast sandwich?”

“Not for me,” was his clipped response.

“What?” you whine, “Simon, don’t order me food!”

“Did you eat today?” he asks quickly, placing his phone on the table, clearly done with the order.

“I had cup noodles!” you point an accusing finger at him, “So yes!”

“That’s not real food,” he leans against the back of the couch, closing his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. End of conversation. 

You sigh, shaking your head. You debate continuing to pester him about it but you hear your washing machine begin to ring the jingle signaling the cycle is finished. You cast one last, unseen glare to the man on your couch before heading to the washer, methodically taking the now clean sheets out. 

You finish placing it in the dryer and turning the machine on, stepping back into the living room when there’s a knock on the door. Simon is on his feet in seconds and at the door before you can even react. When he slams the door shut, he holds the bag of food up for you to see, dropping it on the coffee table before taking a seat again. He resumes the same position, arms cross over his chest and eyes closed. 

“Are you tired?” you ask softly, taking the empty seat beside him. He hums in response, “You want to spend the night?”

“Guess so,” he responds after a few seconds, “You work tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night,” you mumble, reaching for the bag of food, untying the knot so you can get inside, “I hate working Friday nights.”

“I can stop by tomorrow if you want,” he offers, finally opening his eyes.

You think it over for a minute. It wouldn’t be the first time he sat in the bar on a busy Friday night, nursing a half-drunk bourbon, as he waited for you to get off, “I think it’ll be okay. Last week was fine.”

He simply stares at you in silence before sighing through his nose. But he doesn’t argue and you’re thankful for that. 

Simon’s been looking after you like this since you turned 18 and moved out on your own. There have been many, many days and nights that you’ve taken up his time and energy and as you grew older, you tried to do it less. He had an incredibly busy job and life and the last thing you wanted was to add weight onto his already heavy shoulders. 

The evening turned to night and before you knew it you had a full belly and leftovers to store in the fridge for breakfast. You folded your dried sheet and placed it in the hallway closet, acutely aware of the sound of Simon showering in your bathroom. 

It wasn’t a very big shower and you sometimes wondered what it looked like for him in there. Surely he had to hunch down to properly wash his hair and shoulders. But those thoughts always turned into something less than innocent. 

You imagined what he looked like, all wet. How big he surely looked in there, no doubt he would dwarf you. He would be able to easily crowd you in the corner, make it so you couldn't escape as he blocked the exit �� not that you would want to escape. 

You slapped a hand against your forehead, shaking your head violently to rid yourself of those thoughts. You tugged a spare blanket out of the closet and slammed it closed, rushing to your bedroom to place it on your bed. 

Your cheeks burned with shame over having such unsavory thoughts about your best friend. As much as you liked to pretend that the crush you had on him when you were children had faded like typical puppy love, you knew your feelings were alive and well deep inside where you had pushed them when he rejected you when you were 14. 

It was just because you were so pent up, you convinced yourself, you would have those thoughts about any man that was inside your shower!

You crawled onto your side of the bed, flopping back into your pillow as you waited for him to come in. You completely ignored the throbbing between your thighs, a feeling you were more than used to by now. But your fingers itched to reach down, slip beneath the band of your shorts and touch your clit, the little bud throbbed so desperately that when you clenched your thighs together, a shiver would go down your spine. 

Just as you started to reach down, just to try and relieve the ache that settled there, the bathroom door opened. You yanked your hand back up and tried to look casual as you heard his heavy footsteps move towards the bedroom door.

He pushed the door open wider so he could come in, having to duck his head down to avoid hitting his head. He placed his towel in the laundry basket and slowly crawled into bed beside you, placing his pillow flat so he could comfortably lay down.

Some people may find it strange sleeping with him like this, but your couch was much too small for him and he would rather cut his own fingers off than make you sleep on the damned thing. It was old and so uncomfortable that it caused you to be sore if you sat on it for too long. Plus, you never felt uncomfortable having him in the bed with you like this. He was warm and safe and he always smelled like your grapefruit body wash after he showered. 

It made your heart thump in your chest, knowing he walked around the next day smelling like you. 

“Goodnight, Simon,” you mumbled, reaching over to turn your bedside lamp off.

He grunted quietly, rolling over so his back was facing you. You smiled in the dark and snuggled down into your own blanket, closing your eyes as well. 

The next morning, you woke up and the bed was empty. As usual. 

Even when he was home, Simon functioned off of the strict military schedule he’d been accustomed to for his many years in the military. You sat up and stretched your arms above your head, tossing your blanket off of you. The floor was chilly against your bare feet, making you shiver. 

After going pee, you ventured out into the living room. Simon was lounging, quietly watching TV – the morning news, it seemed.

“Good morning,” you called. 

“Eat,” was all he replied, not even breaking his gaze off of the TV.

You purse your lips but do as you’re told – not because he said so, but because your stomach was painfully growling and the breakfast sandwich in the fridge sounded delicious. 

As you heated it up in the microwave, you hummed to yourself.

“I’m going to go to the store after I eat,” you called, “Do you want to come?”

“Nah,” he grunted, “Gotta go soon.”

“Oh,” you tried to hide your disappointment, “Will you be back tonight?”

“Probably not,” he responded, your disappointment only growing at that. 

The microwave beeped and you pulled your plate of food out, bringing it back to the living room to eat it beside him. He took up an absurd amount of space given how large he was and how small your couch was – but you didn’t mind being pressed up against him. You didn’t think he minded either because he never bothered to move away. 

You quietly ate your breakfast, finishing up just as the news segment ended. Simon stood, knees popping as he did, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet before pausing, looking around. 

“You leaving?” you ask, placing your plate on the table as you followed his lead, standing.

“Got to,” he mumbled, still glancing around, “Where’s my phone?”

“You leave it in the bedroom?” you offer.

He sighs and disappears down the hall for a split minute before returning, tucking the device into his pocket. He grabs his coat off the table by the door, slipping it on and zipping it up. You approach him by the door, watching him slip his boots on and tie them. 

“See you later, Si,” you say, trying your best to hide your disappointment at him leaving. 

You never wanted him to leave, always feeling painfully lonely without his presence in your home. Since he was gone for long periods so often, you liked to enjoy his company as much as you can when he’s home. But you would never be the type to ask him to stay when he couldn’t because you knew he would run himself ragged to keep you company even when he was exhausted and had other things to do on top of it. You never wanted to be a burden to him.

He straightens up, stomping his feet a couple times to make sure his boots were on fine. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against his chest. You wrap both arms around his middle and hug him tight.

“I’ll come by when I can,” he mutters, pulling back to press a kiss to your forehead.

Then he’s gone, the door slamming closed and leaving you by yourself in the doorway, already feeling an emptiness that would remain until he returned. 

Just as you promised, you went out and bought groceries, courtesy of the money Simon had so kindly given you. You made sure you had some meat, fruit, and veggies, along with some canned goods. You made sure you didn’t buy cup noodles because he certainly wouldn’t be thrilled to know you bought that since he was so vehemently against them being in your diet. 

When you got home, you put all the groceries away and quickly realized that you had some time to spare before you had to get ready for your shift at the bar. 

As you sit on the couch, mindlessly watching some random show you’ve seen a hundred times before, you suddenly realize you’re squeezing your thighs together. 

And your panties are feeling awfully sticky. 

Your body heats up as you find yourself cupping your breasts through your shirt and bra. But you quickly realize that’s doing nothing for you and you strip your shirt off, pulling the sports bra over your breasts to cup them without the fabric restriction. You sigh and relax into the couch as you pull and pinch your nipple, tugging them and rolling them beneath your fingers. Your thighs clench and rub together as you tease yourself. 

But you tire of that quickly, knowing you could do something that felt so much better. 

Your fingers tremble as you tug the button of your jeans open and kick them off, letting your panties go down with them. You take note of the fact the center is completely sticky and wet. God, how long had you been dripping into your panties like that?

You lean back on the couch, placing your feet on the cushions, letting your legs open nice and wide. Your folds flower open, embarrassingly wet and shiny. Your clit is hard and swollen between them and you can practically see the bud twitching. 

With two, shaky fingers, you reach down and swipe over the bud. Your entire body twitches at the contact and you sigh as you slowly circle it, using your own slick as lubrication. 

You bring a finger to your entrance, prodding at the stickiness there. It’s embarrassing how wet you are. Your pussy makes loud noises as you touch but it doesn’t really provide you much pleasure so you bring your finger back to your clit. 

You circle it, pinch it, and roll your fingers over it. You’re quietly moaning, lidded eyes hazy as you watch your fingers play between your thighs. It feels good, a warm feeling settling in your gut the more you touch yourself. 

But then the inevitable happens – it’s like you hit a wall. 

You whine in frustration, speeding up your movements to hopefully reach the edge that you know is right over the wall. But you don’t get any further, if anything you feel that warmth vanishing at an alarming rate. 

Tears sting your eyes, “No, no, no…” you beg no one.

You grit your teeth in frustration, yanking your hand away to watch your pussy clench and throb over nothing, drooling and dripping slick onto the couch. But you’re too frustrated to try anymore. 

You close your thighs and flop down onto the couch, letting a few tears escape.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” you quietly complain, slapping the couch out of frustration.

Your lamenting is interrupted by your phone going off. You look at it on the table and see it's the alarm you set to let you know to start getting ready. 

Great, you spent 45 minutes playing with yourself and still didn’t get any further than you had for the last 20-something years of your life. 

You were starting to think you should schedule an appointment with a doctor and find out if you were well and truly broken, but quickly decided against it. That would be fucking humiliating.

What would you say, “Hi, I can’t make myself orgasm and never have, please doctor, tell me if my vagina is broken?” Absolutely not. 

You collect your clothes from the living room floor and toss them in your laundry basket in your room before you take a very fast shower just to clean your own mess up. Then, you get dressed and ready for the shift you know is going to suck at the bar. 

At the door, you make sure you have your belongings. You turn out all your lights and lock the door behind you before setting off to the bar. 

It’s not a long walk, about 15 minutes away. But just the idea of stepping foot inside the bar fills you with dread. 

It was a little hole in the wall place, shady and seedy were the best ways to describe it. You got pretty good tips from the patrons most nights but your boss was the biggest piece of shit you’d ever had the misfortune of being in close proximity with. 

He had a very bad habit of putting his hands where they didn’t belong and cutting his employee’s pay for no reason – or reasons he completely made up. Your last paycheck was short because he claims that you ‘got enough in tips to make up the loss’ – you didn’t. And when you argued, he threatened to fire you. 

You were already living in the cheapest flat you could afford; it was run-down and poorly maintained. But it was better than not having a roof over your head. And it was a fight to even get hired at the shitty bar you worked at now, you weren’t willing to go back to looking for work. 

So you simply bit your tongue and took what money you could get. It wasn’t the first time he did it and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. 

You got to work as soon as you clocked in, greeting your coworkers with a tense smile that they returned. Everyone was in the same boat as you, after all. No one would choose to work here unless they were down on their luck like you.

The night started slow, slower than usual for a Friday night. Despite the place looking like it was going to fall down around you and the occasional rat that scampered across the floor, the bar was actually kind of a hotspot. The alcohol was cheap and your boss never cut anyone off so patrons were free to get as sloshed as they wanted. 

That also meant the customers tended to get rather unruly. 

Which is exactly what happened when the night inevitably picked up. More people came in, more drinks were ordered, and you were running around the place like mad to get drinks where they needed to be. 

You cast a glance to the clock behind the bar, sighing in relief when you realized you had 10 minutes left of this hell. 

You were sure you were a sight, clearly run ragged and ready to get the hell out of there and go home. Your feet were sore from the old, worn shoes you wore. They looked fine on the outside, cute, but the soles were worn down and provided absolutely no cushion. It was hell. 

“This goes to the corner table,” the bartender called over the loud voices of the bar. He was a nice guy, couldn’t be older than 20, but you honestly couldn’t even recall his name. 

You took the tray of shitty beer from the counter and quickly made your way to the corner table in the back, careful not to spill a drop. You placed the tray down and gave the guys at the table a charming smile.

“Here’s your drinks,” you said, placing a glass in front of all 4 of them. 

“Thanks, beautiful,” one of them slurred, given a drunken wink.

“Um, is there anything else you need?” you asked, ignoring his flirting, as you picked up the tray. 

“Maybe,” another one chuckled, leaning back in his seat, raking his eyes down your body. You wished you could crawl into a hole at the feeling of his gaze on you. Despite being fully clothed, it made you feel incredibly naked – like he could see through your clothes. 

It certainly wasn’t the first time a customer or two flirted with you. It was sort of a rampant problem in this bar, if you were honest.

“What is it you need?” you asked, wishing so badly you could just be free from the conversation. 

One of them pulled out a stack of money, waving it in front of your face, “I’ll tip you this if you show us your tits.”

Your cheeks burned hot in humiliation as the other three laughed and jeered. You shifted on your feet, tapping your fingers anxiously against the metal tray in your hands, envisioning yourself slamming it over their heads. 

“N-No thank you…I-I don’t think that would be appropriate,” you hope that they can’t hear the way your voice trembles over all the noise in the bar.

“Come on, sexy,” the one with the money grinned, licking over his teeth as his eyes narrowed on your chest, “Bet they’re real nice. C’mon, you need the money right? Why else would you be working at a place like this? Go on, just lift your shirt up and let us see them tits!”

“M-My shift is over, I really need to go,” you shakily smile and take a step back, “I-I hope you enjoy your night, boys.”

Your attempt to diffuse the situation and get out of it proved futile because when you attempted to flee, one of them clapped a firm hand around your wrist and tugged you forward. You stumbled on your feet, dropping the metal tray with a gasp, finding yourself nose to nose with one of them. The smell of alcohol was potent on his breath and it made your lip curl in disgust. You tried to tug yourself free of his grasp but his grip was too strong. 

The guy sitting on the other side of the one who had a hold on you reached over his buddy to yank the neckline of your shirt down, the cheap, worn material stretching with ease until it tore at the weakest point. You let out a horrified cry when your bra became visible to the group, all of them cheering and shouting degrading things right in your face. 

The one across the table reached down, you felt his hand against your breast through your bra and a lightning bolt of pure terror ripped through you. It was like everything happened in slow motion.

You could feel his thumb hook under your bra and start to tug, tears flooded your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You raised a hand and as hard as you could, slapped the one still holding you clean across the face. 

The entire table went still but his grasp loosened enough for you to turn on your heel and bolt as fast as you could into the staff room, covering your exposed bra with your arms as best you could. You passed one of your coworkers, her eyes wide in concern when she saw your state. 

She followed you into the staff room, closing the door quietly behind her. You stood in front of your locker, ripping it open as you attempted to collect your things but your mind was running too fast for you to actually make any meaningful movements.

Your coworker called your name and you paused.

“Hey, take a breath,” she whispered softly, placing a hand on your back. You realized you were hyperventilating. You attempted to level out your breathing, wiping the tears off of your cheeks only for more to replace them. 

“What happened?” she asked softly, “Do you want me to call someone? The police?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to respond but only a little sob comes out. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. She looks nothing but sympathetic, softly patting your back and encouraging you to breathe deeply. 

The staff room door suddenly slams open, making both of you jump. Your boss storms in, completely red in the face and furious. 

“Get out,” he snaps at your coworker. 

She casts an apologetic look to you, squeezing your hand before she ducks her head and leaves the staff room. He slams the door behind her, locking it for good measure – leaving both of you alone. 

He advances on you faster than you can react, he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you against the lockers. It hurts but you can’t get a noise past the grip around your neck. You blink back the tears that are still coming, trying to see him more clearly.

“Are you broke in the fuckin’ head?!” he screams, a volume that makes your ears ring. You wonder if the patrons can hear it outside, “You put your hands on a customer?!”

“Th-They put their hands on me first!” you defended yourself, hoarse and choked under his grip, “They touched me!”

He only looks more furious, eyes falling to your ripped shirt and exposed bra. He grabs one side of the already torn shirt and yanks, ripping it the rest of the way. Your eyes go wide and your first instinct is to kick him but you’re panicked and uncoordinated so it misses its mark.

“I don’t give a shit if they forced you over the table and fucked you!” he howls, spitting all over your face in his rage, “You better think fast and hard about how you’re going to rectify this. Do you understand me?”

His grip tightens a bit more around your throat and you hastily nod, blubbering mindless apologies to try and appease him. He doesn’t look any less angry but lets you go nonetheless. Your knees are too shaky to hold you up so you slide down the lockers until you’re sitting on the dirty floor.

“You go out there and you apologize to them,” he hisses through clenched teeth, “Or I’m going to fire you and you’re gonna be out on the fuckin’ streets, got it?”

You nod your head, holding back your sobs but can’t control the tears that fall down your cheeks. He sends you one last glare before turning back to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open. 

You’re left there, trembling on the floor and quietly crying to yourself. Your heart is racing and you’ve never felt more terrified and humiliated in your life.

The door opens again and you look up in horror at the idea of your boss coming back. But it’s your coworker again. 

She quietly crouches next to you and gives you a once over, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“I-I have to apologize t-to them,” you manage to choke out. 

Her eyes widened, “No way! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I can’t lose this job,” you sob, pressing the heel of your hands to your eyes as you cry, “I need this job. He says he’ll fire me if I don’t apologize!”

“Okay,” she whispers, “I’ll go with you, okay? You can apologize and then you can go, that’s it.”

You nod your head and stand up, using the lockers as a crutch. Your coworker helps you steady yourself before she sees your shirt is ripped even more than when she left.

She whispers your name, “Are you sure he didn’t…”

“He only ripped it,” you assure her, sniffling softly, “But I can’t go out there like this.”

It dawns on you that you forgot a jacket. It was a little warmer today than it had been in days and you had simply neglected to bring one. 

“You can borrow my hoodie,” she assures, opening her locker to tug it out, handing it to you, “Go on, you can return it to me another day.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, clumsily sliding it over your head. You feel much better now that you’re covered up, you feel less vulnerable. You quickly collect all your belongings so you can leave as soon as you get this over with.

You let her lead you out of the staff room. The second you’re out, the blaring noise immediately proves to be too much. You wipe your eyes, using the sleeve of the hoodie. You make a note to wash it properly when you return it. 

You feel the eyes of strangers on you and it just makes you feel worse with every passing second. You want to go home. You want to shower. You want to crawl into bed. You want Simon. 

You let her lead you to the table, all the men are still there laughing and drinking their beers. They fall silent when you approach, four pairs of eyes falling on you, making you feel humiliated and small. They look expectant, the one who ripped your shirt tapping his fingers against the table. 

“There you are!” the one who had held your wrist grinned. It was a predatory smile that made your heart race anxiously, “Thought you were gonna run away without apologizing for bein’ a raging bitch.”

You flinch at the insult and your coworker squeezes your hand in support, “I-I’m sorry for slapping you.”

“That’s fuckin’ right!” another one jeered, “Practically ruined our night. How are you going to make it up to us?”

“I’ve got a few ideas!” a different once laughed. The other three joined in eagerly.

“How about you stay back late and really make it up to us, huh?” you squeezed your coworkers hand in yours, already feeling the tears returning with a vengeance.

“How about I bring you a round on me, huh?” she quickly intervenes, “I’ll buy.”

That seems to do it for the 4 men and they rambunctiously cheer and slam their hands on the table obnoxiously. You think you hear her promise to be back with their drinks as she pulls you away from the table. You both hide away in the staff room again and she holds both your hands in hers.

“Go on home,” she says softly.

“I-I’ll pay you back for the drinks–” she shushes you quickly when you start.

“Don’t even worry about it,” she coos, “Go home.”

With a gentle nudge to the back entrance, she casts you one last kind smile before slipping out of the staff door. 

You don’t even remember the walk home, your mind completely fuzzy. But you’re sobbing again by the time you stumble into the door. You collapse onto the floor in front of your couch, wailing into the cushions as the weight of the night fully and entirely collapses on you. You can barely breathe through your tears, hiccups and coughs breaking up the endless crying only to resume when you catch your breath. 

You have no idea how long you sit there, crying louder and harder than you have in a very, very long time. 

You hear your front door creak open before the living room light flips on. You go completely stiff, your crying finally going silent as you hear the familiar heavy footsteps step into the living room before they fall still when he sees you.

He calls your name, soft and gentle in a way that is completely unlike him. Simon isn’t soft, he talks to you in a cold, apathetic and teasing tone. He’s always clipped and blunt. Sure, he’s kind but never gentle.

Just the sweet tone makes your lips wobble and suddenly you’re sobbing again. His boots hit the floor fast, taking quick, big strides so he can reach you as fast as he possibly can. Two strong hands hook under your arms and turn you towards him. He takes a seat beside you on the floor and tugs you into lap.

You melt into his chest, secured by his embrace as he holds you. One hand cups the back of your head and the other wraps around your back. 

“You didn’t answer your phone when I called,” he explained his arrival, lips pressed to the crown of your head, “Got worried so I rushed over.”

You grip his hoodie in your hands, anchoring yourself to him as you cry and cry. He remains silent, content to hold you and let you cry out everything you’re feeling. 

Just having him there, holding you and comforting you, is enough to ease your tears until you’re just a hiccuping, sniffling mess. You’re taking those quick, stuttering gasping breaths that signify the end of your meltdown and Simon slowly eases his hold on you. 

He cups your cheek in one hand, raising your head up so he can really look at you. He rubs a thumb under your eye, wiping away your tears. He looks so concerned, brows furrowed and a frown on his lips. 

The sight of his face makes your lips wobble again, “Si…” you finally manage to choke out.

His gaze softens immediately, his other hand coming up to cup your face as well. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“You want to tell me what happened?” he finally asks, letting go of your face to hold your waist, keeping you curled up in his lap. 

You think about it. You want to tell him all about it, to get it off of your chest and figure out how the hell you’re supposed to move past it. But you know that if you tell him, he’s going to march his ass to your job the second he gets a chance and put your boss’s head through the wall and find those assholes from the table. 

You really can’t afford to lose your job. Your bills are tight enough as it is, you’re scraping by by the skin of your teeth. If you’re jobless for even a week, it’s going to fuck everything up. You’ll never make rent and you can’t end up on the street. 

“Just a…bad shift…” you supply lamely.

Simon stares at you, jaw set and tense, “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact you’re lying in the first place or the fact you don’t think you can tell me what really happened.”

“Simon…” you whine, pushing yourself off of his lap, “Just let it go, please.”

He follows your lead when you stand up. He still hasn’t taken his boots off, still too concerned about you to care. Every step he takes is a loud sound of his weight in those boots. 

You pace back and forth, arms crossed over your chest.

“I’m not letting it go,” he responds, “I think you know me better than that.”

“Simon, please!” you feel the tears returning again and you suddenly realize how tired you are from crying. Your eyes are sore and you just want to sleep. 

“I want to know what happened,” he argues, clearly growing exasperated. 

You know he’s not going to let it go. He knows you too well to believe any lies. You press your hands to your face and let out a noise of frustration and despair. You can feel his eyes on you, unwavering and firm. You feel hot, like you’re overheating and suffocated. With trembling hands, you haphazardly tug at the hoodie – you need it off or you’re going to go mad. 

Simon reaches forward to help you, watching your rising panic but you slap his hands away. He looks stupefied at your reaction but retracts his hands. 

But you can’t get the damned thing off, you’re uncoordinated and clumsy, unable to pull your arms through the sleeves so you can get it off. Why won’t it come off? 

“G-Get it off,” you finally cry, completely unaware of the pure horror in your voice.

Simon’s hands are back, “I’ve got you. I’ll get it off ya.” 

True to his word, he tugs it up and it slips over your head with ease. You feel like you can take a deep breath finally, feeling the cool air of your living room against your skin again. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you attempt to calm yourself. 

He says your name softly but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. You jump when you feel the ghost of his fingers against your stomach – the skin is bare and it makes your eyes fly open. You look down and remember that your shirt was completely torn open, the hoodie had been hiding it, and now Simon is seeing. You can see the realization in his face.

He’s not an idiot. If anything, he’s more intelligent than anyone you’ve ever known. 

Suddenly your stomach turns and you place a hand over your mouth. You’re running down the hallway, dropping to your knees in front of the toilet as you heave. 

You don’t hear any movement from Simon. He doesn’t follow you to the bathroom. You’re briefly thankful for the escape as the nausea disappears before you suddenly crave to have him near you again.

“Simon!” you cry, his footfalls an immediate response. 

He crouches beside you, placing a hand on your back, “You finished?”

You nod, spitting one last time into the toilet, “I-I want to shower.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he stands, stepping past you to turn on the shower for you. He places a consoling hand on the top of your head in passing before he goes to leave you alone. You reach out and grab his hand before he can get too far.

He pauses and looks at you, easily understanding. He brushes his thumb over your hand, “Not goin’ anywhere, love.”

He takes a step outside of the bathroom and stands there, hands held in front of him as if he were on guard, like a security guard. You flush the toilet and shakily strip your clothes off before stepping into the shower, letting the warm spray ease your sore body and clear your sinuses. You’re terribly stuffy from crying so you can’t even smell your grapefruit body wash this time.

You finish your shower, making sure you scrub your body as best you can before you step out and wrap a towel around your body.

“Are you hungry?” Simon suddenly asks.

“No…” your tone is flatter than you had intended and you realize that you’re completely emotionally drained. 

“Alright,” is all he says in reply.

You approach the door, where he’s still standing. You place your hand against his back and he quickly steps aside to let you by. You hear his boots behind you as he follows you to your bedroom. 

You sit on the bed, completely exhausted. Simon makes himself busy with going through your dresser, pulling out some clothes for you to wear before he places them on the bed beside you. You don’t make any movements. 

He sighs, softly saying your name before crouching in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“Was it your boss?” he asks softly. 

“Him and some assholes I was serving drinks to,” you tiredly answer. You don’t have it in you to fight in anymore. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” he pries, squeezing your hands.

“Because I know you, Si,” you sniffle, “You’re going to go down there and put them all in the hospital when you find them.”

“And?” he scoffs, “They fuckin’ deserve it. No one gets to put their hands on you like that and get away with it.”

“Because I can’t lose my job, Si!” you finally cry, “I barely make ends meet as it is! I-If I lose my job, what am I supposed to do? I won’t be able to afford rent. I’ll be on the streets!”

“I would never let that happen,” he says firmly, “You will never be on the streets, love. I will always take care of you, you know that.”

“I can’t do that to you, Simon,” you mutter, sniffling again, “Y-You already have so much on your plate I don’t want to be another problem you have to deal with.”

“Is that what you think?” he scoffs, standing up, “That I deal with you? You’re important to me, I take care of you because I never want anything to happen to you. I’m not going to let you work at that shithole for a minute longer.”

You hang your head, unable to supply any arguments to him anymore.

“I’m going to make you something small to eat. You’re going to eat and drink some water and then you’re going to get some rest, understood?” he gives a satisfied hum when you nod your head in compliance. 

Once you’re alone, you go over his words again. You’re important to him, that’s what he said. It was the most clear he had ever been with his feelings towards you since you confessed your feelings when you were young. 

As you methodically got dressed in the clothes he picked out for you, you reminisced. Memories of him were always something that made you inexplicably happy – except for one memory.

You were 14 and he was 17 at the time. You’d known each other for your entire childhood after his mother had brought him over for a playdate despite the age difference and the fact you were closer in age to his brother. 

He had always looked after you and taken care of you, walking you home after school and simply looking after you when your parents were busy. It was inevitable that you would grow feelings for him. You remember the way your heart would race every time you looked at him. You remember telling your friends that he was your boyfriend, hoping he wouldn’t find out.

You had told him one evening when he was hanging out, having dinner with your family, that you liked him – like liked. 

You remember how you cried into your pillow night after night when he rejected you. Told you flat out that you were an idiot and to drop it and never, ever bring it up again. That he didn’t feel the same. And that was that. 

You never brought it up again. 

But the crush never once waned. You decided that his friendship was more important than your feelings for him so you would never let him know. And that’s how it had been ever since. 

Simon’s voice calling your name ripped you from your reminiscing. You tied the drawstrings of the sweats he had picked out and quickly made your way to the kitchen. 

Simon was washing a pan by the time you arrived but he nodded to a plate he set on the counter for you. It was just a small omelet he made, complete with a light drizzle of ketchup. 

He knew you well, you couldn’t deny. You picked up the fork he’d placed on the plate for you and slowly began to eat. 

After being sick, your stomach was painfully empty so you were happy to have something on it once again. Simon quietly finished washing the dishes he had dirtied before he placed them on the dish rack and dried his hands. 

“Um, Simon?” you called softly, receiving a grunt in reply, “Didn’t you have something going on tonight?”

“Was gonna be out the lads,” he responded, “Doesn’t matter, can hang out with those idiots anytime.”

“You shouldn’t talk about your friends like that,” you said, shaking your head as you took a final bite of your omelet.

“Aint my friends,” he reached down and took your plate from you, tossing it into the sink.

“Simon Riley doesn’t have friends?” you asked, eyes following him as he locked up your apartment and started to turn out the lights.

“Got you,” he said as you followed him down the hall, “All I need.”

A fond smile made its way across your face as he yanked his shirt above his head. You began to make yourself comfortable in bed, trying to keep your eyes off of him as he got dressed for bed. Despite the way you wanted to take the chance to look at him.

Friends. That’s what you were, you reminded yourself. 

Finally, he climbed into bed beside you, making himself comfortable before you turned out the light. 

Yet, despite your exhaustion from the night, you felt like you couldn’t close your eyes. You felt like you couldn’t relax. The tension in your body was so much that you were sore. Like you had gone to the gym instead of went to work. 

“Simon..?” you whispered into the dark. He was silent for a second before he hummed in response, “Can I…tell you what happened tonight?”

He was quiet again but you felt him move, a hand blindly reaching over to you to find your hands. You took it in both of yours, nervously fidgeting with his fingers. 

“This stupid group of guys were sloshed beyond belief,” you began to tell him, aware of his gaze on you through the dark, “They were just chattin’ shit, saying they’d tip me if I showed them my tits,” he scoffed beside you, clearly displeased, “I said no and tried to leave and they wouldn’t let me. One of them ripped my shirt and tried to pull my bra up so I slapped him.”

“Fuckin’ bastard deserved to get his teeth knocked down his throat,” Simon growled from beside you.

“I got away and went to the staff room but my boss came in and he was so fucking angry, Si,” your voice shook as you remembered the way his face had been so red and a look of pure hate had been in his eyes, “He grabbed my throat and pinned against the lockers. He was angry that I had struck a customer.”

“Of course that’s all that bastard would be angry about,” Simon spit, not bothering to hide his distaste.

“I tried to tell him that I was defending myself but he said–” your voice broke and you struggled to blink back the tears. Simon sat up a bit, pulling you into his chest, letting you curl against him, the rapid hum of his heart loud in your ear, easing you immediately, “He said that he didn’t care if they put me over the table and fucked me, he would fire me if I didn’t apologize to them.”

Simon’s arms tightened around you immediately, cursing under his breath, “He made you apologize to them?” 

You nod your head, “It was so humiliating, Si. B-But I just didn’t want to lose my job. They just laughed at me and made a joke of it.”

“Pieces of shit,” he hisses, pressing a kiss against your temple, “They better hope I don’t find them.”

You’d really love to see them blubbering on their knees, crying and terrified like you had been. They wouldn’t be so awful in the face of a guy bigger and stronger than them – someone like Simon. 

“I should have gone to the bar tonight,” he sighed, “Even though you told me not to, I wanted to.”

“It’s okay, Si,” you sniffle, “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

You wrap your leg around his waist and snuggle deeper into his chest, finally feeling content to sleep so long as you got to be in his arms. 

You wake up late, well into the afternoon. You’re groggy and struggle to pull yourself out of bed. Simon isn’t in bed, so you force yourself up in search of him. 

As you left, you noticed that the clothes you were wearing last night were gone and weren’t in the laundry basket. You knew for a fact that you left them on the floor. 

He’s relaxing on the couch as usual. His hair is wet and you can smell your body wash wafting off of him when you crawl onto the couch beside him. He reaches a hand out and pets your head gently as a greeting.

“Sleep well?” he asks. You nod your head, “Hungry?” You nod again.

He huffs through his nose and stands up, pressing a fleeting kiss to the top of your head to go prepare something for you to eat. The sound of Simon bustling about the kitchen filled the apartment and you found yourself relaxing into the couch. 

“Simon?” you called, getting to your feet to make your way to the kitchen. 

He had his back to you as he fried up something in the pan but he hummed in response nonetheless.

“Where did my clothes from last night go?” you ask softly.

He pauses his stirring of the food, “Threw them out. Figured you wouldn’t want to see them when you woke up.”

“Oh,” you respond. 

Your heart feels full at his show of care. It was quiet actions like that that just made you feel so…in love, you think before correcting yourself. Fluttery. Cared for. Loved. 

No, he doesn’t love you.

You shake your head and move to the fridge to pull out a bottle of water, going to sit on the couch to wait for Simon to finish cooking. 

The day was spent like that, just you and Simon in your flat. Him just keeping you company and keeping your mind off of things. 

You were curled up against him, listening to the beating of his heart and watching the movie he had decided to play. It was peaceful. He smelled nice, like you. And he was so comfortable beneath you, firm and big. 

His thighs were spread wide, one of your legs thrown over one of his, only serving to make you more aware of how big and firm he was. Solid. Well-built. 

Handsome.

You cast a glance at his face. His brown eyes were half-lidded as he mindlessly nibbled at his bottom lip. They looked soft and shiny. You wondered what he tasted like, how he kissed.

Was he rough? Soft? Did he like to use tongue. 

You’d never kissed anyone before. You wondered if he would be okay with that. You knew some guys liked experienced partners and some liked them inexperienced. You wonder what he preferred. 

Just the idea of kissing him had your heart hammering in your chest and your face burning. You quickly looked at the TV, snuggling closer to him. He squeezed you closer, hand mindlessly rubbing up and down your back. 

Kissing Simon…you pictured him over you, cupping your cheeks in the way he always does. You imagine him pressing his pretty lips against yours, moving them softly against yours. You imagine what it would feel like for him to pin you down, sliding his tongue into your mouth as you moaned and whimpered beneath him, unable to move anywhere because he’s so much bigger and stronger than you. In charge. 

Your pussy clenches around nothing, already starting to drip into your panties. Suddenly you sit up, eyes wide and cheeks flush. Simon looks perturbed, an eyebrow raised at your sudden movement.

“I’ve got to take a shower,” you shakily supply before fleeing to the safety of the bathroom.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hand over your mouth to quiet your heavy breathing. 

What the hell was wrong with you? How the hell could you be thinking about sex and getting turned on after yesterday? How could you be thinking about Simon like that when he was right there? What the fuck was your problem?

You hastily reached over and turned the shower on, the pipes clanking loudly as the water flowed through them. 

Shouldn’t you be the opposite of horny after what happened yesterday? Maybe you really were broken. 

You strip and quickly step into the shower, turning the water as hot as it would possibly go. You needed it to hurt so you would stop acting like such a freak. Like a slut. 

You fight back tears as you begin to wash up. 

By the time your shower is done, you’re exhausted again. You dry off and wrap the towel around yourself, opening the door to find Simon standing on the other side. You jump and gasp, placing a hand over your heart to calm the beating.

“You scared me!” you whine, slipping past him to the bedroom.

“Wanted to check on you,” he says, following slowly behind you, watching as you pick out clothes.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, “I just got really tired and I’d like to turn in early, that’s all.”

“Alright,” he replies, standing there for a second before making his way back to the door, “Just call if you need anything.”

“I will!” you offer him a smile, watching as he leaves, closing the door behind him. 

You quickly dress and climb into bed, turning the lights out before squeezing your eyes shut to will yourself to sleep. Surprisingly, it came quickly and easily – maybe you were more tired than you thought. 

Little did you know that Simon took the opportunity of you sleeping early to slip away and take a little 15 minute walk. 

When you start to dream, you’re acutely aware that it’s a dream. You’re not sure how but, you just know that you’re sleeping and none of this is real.

But god it feels real and you want it to be real so you go along with it. 

Simon is there, you’re both in your bed. He’s got his shirt off and he’s on top of you, kissing your neck softly. Sweetly. 

He doesn’t smell like your body wash anymore, he smells like his – a crisp, musky scent that you love so dearly. And he’s so warm against you. 

You realize that you’re only wearing a pair of panties when his lips suddenly attach to your breast, mouthing at your nipple. His tongue swirls over the bud and it feels so good you can’t help but moan. 

“Si…” you sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. He rewards you by surging up and pressing his lips against yours. He tastes vaguely like mint and it’s intoxicating. So simple, nothing special or poetic. Just mint. Simon. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kiss him back. Kissing is easy, you hazily think. You just move your lips in time with his and it falls into place. 

Simon’s hips move against yours and you cry out when you feel the hard swell of his cock press against you through his sweatpants and your panties. He’s so hard and it's so hot even through the layers of clothes. 

“Si…” you whimper again.

“I’m here, love,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”

He rocks his hips against yours and fuck, it feels good. You eagerly spread your legs and find yourself wishing that the panties weren’t in the way. You’d love to hear the sticky sound of your pussy against his cock through his sweats. You’d love to see the stain of your slick against them, knowing that you marked him as yours like that. 

You feel hot, that tense warmth growing in your tummy. The promise of pleasure that you’ve never been able to experience. Maybe Simon could supply it. You’re sure he could, actually, you convince yourself.

If he just keeps going, keeps rutting his hips like that, you could cum all messy in your panties. Just for him. Only for him. 

Just as you swear it’s going to wash over you, your eyes fly open and you gasp. Your entire body feels hot and sweaty and you realize you’ve thrown your blanket off of your body. The sun is shining through the window and Simon is nowhere to be seen in bed. 

You swallow, your throat feeling painfully dry. 

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaks open and Simon comes in with a laundry basket. He casts a glance at you and seems to relax when he realizes you’re awake.

“Was doin’ some laundry,” he explains, turning to open your drawers to begin putting the clean clothes away.

“Oh,” you whisper, sounding hoarse, “Thank you, Si.”

As you watch him, you realize he seems tenser than usual. You sit up and bed and watch him put the clothes away until he’s finished. He stands there for a moment before looking over his shoulder at you.

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I’ve gotta go tonight.”

“Go?” you ask, eyes going wide. You don’t want him to leave, “Go where?”

“I’ve got some work to take care of,” he replies, “Paperwork I’ve been puttin’ off. Gonna pull a late one to get it done.”

“I-I don’t want you to go,” you confess softly, trying to blink back the tears that sting your eyes. You feel so pathetic, crying because he needs to leave. But you haven’t been without him since it happened and you’re scared to be alone with just your thoughts.

“I know,” he hums, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, cupping your cheek, “I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” you ask. He nods, teasingly pinching your cheek before you smile and bat his hand away. When he pulls it back you notice his knuckles – bruised and split open. They weren’t like that last night you were sure of it, “Simon…”

He catches you looking and gives you a tense smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

He stands up and kisses your forehead before turning and leaving the room, leaving you to get ready for the day. 

Thankfully, Simon remains around for the day. You notice he’s on his phone a lot more, typing away. It’s unlike him, he’s more the type to do phone calls rather than text. When you ask him about it he just waves you off with an explanation about Soap being on his ass. 

You have a feeling he’s lying but you don’t pry. 

Before he leaves, he makes you dinner. You walk him to the door, unable to stop the pout on your face when he puts his boots on. You can’t help but wish that he’d change his mind at the last second and stay with you after all. 

But he doesn’t. He pulls his balaclava over his face and slips his hood up before turning back to you. 

“Don’t cry, love,” he coos, wiping a stray tear away, “I promise I’ll get all my work done and I’ll be all yours for a good long while.”

“Okay…” you sound so miserable but you can’t bring yourself to care, “I’ll miss you.”

He brings you in for a hug, making sure to squeeze you nice and tight before he pulls back. He can’t give you his normal kiss because of the mask and that only makes you sadder. 

You don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to go. You want him to stay. You want to keep him close. He makes you feel safe. He makes you feel complete. You love him so much. 

You hold onto his hoodie for as long as you can until he has to shake you off and close the door behind him. And you stand there for a long time. Like a puppy who's been left home alone for the first time, just waiting for its owners to come back because it’s scared it’s going to be alone forever. 

By the time you bring yourself to leave the door, the food Simon made you is cold. That only seems to make you feel worse. 

Then you sit on the couch and watch TV, feeling hopelessly alone. You wished you had Simon to curl into and snuggle with. The tiny couch has never felt bigger. 

You shower and brush your teeth, pouting at the sight of his toothbrush, another reminder that he isn’t there. 

Before that night at the bar, you never would have felt so isolated without him; lonely, sure. But now that you’re experiencing this gut-wrenching emptiness, you feel close to tears every time you think about him. He was truly your rock, the only thing that brought you comfort. You loved him.

You flop against the bed and let the tears fall down your temples. You love him. You do.

You’re so fucking in love with him that it hurts. Your heart aches in your chest. You want him there to hold you. 

You know he doesn’t feel the same, you know it will never become anything. But you’re willing to take whatever you can get. Just his company. You can be content so long as he’s with you, as long as he’s in your life. 

But you can think about him, imagine yourself telling him how you feel. Imagine that when he holds you close that he feels the same too. That he loves you. You want him to love you so desperately. 

You wish that he loved you. 

You curled into his pillow, sniffling pathetically as you closed your eyes. You cry yourself to sleep. 

Your eyes fly open and the gasp you let out changes to a sob. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. All you see is flashes of their faces in your head. All you can feel are their hands on you. 

A nightmare, your brain supplies but it does nothing to quell your anxiety and fear.

You reach for Simon, instinctive and desperate. But you only touch the cold mattress and you’re reminded that he isn’t home tonight. 

You fumble through the sheets to find your phone.

I’ll just be a call away, you know. If you need me, I’ll be there. 

He promised.

You can barely see the screen as you look for his contact. You call him, hands trembling as you hold it to your ear. It rings and rings and rings. Then beeps and goes to voicemail.

You hang up and try again. And again. And again.

He doesn’t answer. Why won’t he answer? He promised.

You call him again but it goes straight to voicemail. You can practically feel your heart shatter in your chest. He was ignoring your calls. He ignored you. 

But he had promised he would come when you needed him. And you needed him. 

Your phone becomes completely blurry through your tears as you begin to cry in earnest. You feel hurt, betrayed, disappointed, and angry. You’re fucking angry. 

You suddenly need to let it out. So you take your phone in your hand and throw it, listening to it slam against the wall. It’s loud and the light on your screen goes out. But you don’t feel better. You’re still a mess of volatile emotions. It feels like it’s all bottled up inside you and it hurts. 

You take his pillow and grip it in your fists. You want to rip it to shreds, want to tear it open and release all your anger on it. Instead, you just slam your fists against it. 

Then you do it again. And again. And again. 

You punch the damned thing as you cry and cry. You’re sure you must be a sight. You must be making so much noise as you sob and shriek. 

You were angry at what happened to you, you were angry you had apologize to them for hurting you, you were angry because you couldn’t even sleep peacefully without being plagued by a nightmare the first night you were without Simon, and you were angry he broke his fucking promise. 

Before long, all you were doing was sobbing into his pillow – wailing and crying your broken heart out. You tire yourself out, completely exhausted of all emotions. You lay there, quietly hiccuping and sniffling, just staring into the inky darkness. 

You’re there for hours, unable to fall back asleep. The sun slowly creeps over the horizon and begins to cast an orange glow around the room. 

You can’t even find beauty in it. You’re so exhausted. Your heart aches. It’s agonizing. 

It’s early morning by the time you hear your front door open. You don’t feel excited to see him. You’re not happy he’s back. You don’t feel anything, actually. All you can do is slowly blink, gaze focused outside the window where you can faintly hear birds chirping. 

You wish you were a bird so you could fly away wherever you want. You would fly away from here right now if you could. You wanted to leave. 

You didn’t want to see Simon. You were so angry at him. You’ve never felt like this about him before. You don’t know what to do. All you can think right now is how much you hate him. 

God, you hate him. 

He’s surprisingly quiet as he walks through your apartment. You hear him push the door open, your back to him. But you can feel his eyes on you, can feel how he hovers in the doorway. 

He wanders further into the room before pausing. 

He rounds to your side of the bed and sees that you’re awake, simply staring out the window. He holds your phone up, screen clearly shattered before he places it on the table beside you. 

“You called,” he says softly, shifting anxiously on his feet. Simon’s never anxious. But he is right now, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I was just…busy. Had some unruly recruits, you know how it is.”

Your eyes finally move from the window, landing on him. He’s wearing the same thing he was last night. Just some jeans and white t-shirt. It’s a nice one, it fits him well and it looks comfy. 

Simon stands there under your gaze, growing increasingly uncomfortable. He’s not used to feeling scrutinized. And that’s exactly what your gaze feels like. 

Your eyes wander to a strange discoloration on his shirt. It’s tan, just a light stain. There’s a tiny smear of black as well. Then you spot the red on his collar, ruby red. 

He looks guilty. He would look like a kicked puppy if you didn’t know any better. This isn’t guilt because he missed your call. He’s guilty because he was too busy getting his dick wet to answer you. 

That’s why he ignored you? To fuck someone?

You’re no longer numb. You’re angry again. That overwhelming feeling that you have no idea how to let out. It’s like it just boils up inside you, like a pot boiling over. It has no place to go but out. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to register it. You just need to show him how angry you are. Fucking furious. 

You grab the empty glass on your nightstand and wail it in his direction harder than you thought possible. Simon barely dodges, slamming himself against the wall as it shatters behind him. 

Now he looks angry. Good. Maybe he’ll feel a fraction of what you feel right now. 

“Are you out of your fucking head?” he snarls, animosity dripping off of every syllable. 

You don’t even answer, grabbing a book that you have stacked there before throwing that too. Then the second book. Then the third book. Then you throw your phone at him. Then you take the lamp, rip the plug right from the wall and throw that too. 

When you’re out of things to throw on the table you throw your pillow. It’s when you’re about to throw his pillow that he finally has enough. He rips it from your grasp and tosses it across the room. 

He’s standing there, fists balled at his sides and his shoulders heaving up and down as he tries to calm himself. 

“I hate you,” you finally spit, standing on your knees. You don’t have anything to throw so you slam your hands against his chest. You hit him, crying and sobbing as you wail over and over about how you hate him. You hate him so fucking much. 

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!” you scream. You’re so loud you’re sure the neighbors can hear but you don’t care. It feels good to let your anger out on him, to punch and slap and claw at his shoulders, chest, and arms. He doesn’t do anything but stand there and let you. He’d never lay a hand on you, even when you’re doing it to him, “I needed you and you were too busy fucking some stupid whore?!”

He doesn’t say anything but he’s trembling now. You’re not sure if he’s just that angry or if he’s holding himself back from wringing your neck. 

You pause to look up at him. His jaw is set hard but he’s staring at you, his usual lazy, lidded look nowhere to be found. He looks enraged. 

“Aren’t you going to say something?” you spit, raising your hand as if you’re going to slap him across the face but you stop. You don’t want to do that. 

“Say what?” he finally responds, voice so cold you swear it drops the room’s temperature, “I have a life that doesn’t revolve around you. That’s the difference between us. You need me but I don’t need you.”

You sit back on your heels at that, the hurt clear on your face. Simon doesn’t seem to care in the slightest now, as tears trickle down your face. You must look a sight, pathetically gazing up at him as he glares down at you like you’re dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.

“You hate me?” he scoffs, “That’s just fine. We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

He turns on his heel at that and storms out of your room, slamming your bedroom door behind him. It practically rattles the walls. Then you hear the same thing from the front door. 

And you’re all alone. And you can’t do anything but cry about it. 

You find it impossible to get out of bed after that. You lay there for the rest of the day. Then all night. You fitfully sleep when you can’t bear to be awake anymore and then wake when the nightmares hit. 

Then you watch the sun come up and decide that it’s a good day to spend in bed. So you do. You sleep on and off, only waking to cry when you’re plagued with nightmares. 

You occasionally think about Simon. More than occasionally, actually. He’s always on your mind.

You think everything over and come to the conclusion that this was all your fault. From the beginning, really. You’d been keen on staying in his life since you were children, attached yourself to his side and weaseled your way into his life. Really, you gave him no choice but to put up with you. 

He was everything to you. He was right, you needed him. You didn’t have anyone else. No friends, no family, not even a pet. Just him. Always just him. 

What choice did he have other than to put up with you day after day? He didn’t need you like you needed him, after all. He’d surely been spending his days in dread of you – of your texts, your calls. 

This was probably what he was waiting for; an escape. He probably wanted to leave a long, long time ago. You were in love with him and he wanted nothing to do with you. 

What were you thinking? Actually believing that he would want to spend his days with you, taking care of you. Who were you kidding, you were just an idiot for letting yourself believe otherwise. 

You wake up one day and realize you’re not angry anymore. Just sad. You almost prefer the anger and emptiness compared to the unending waves of sadness. 

You cry all the time. Day and night. 

You try to use your phone, you want to call him but it’s broken. The screen won’t even turn on. You’re completely alone, can’t even contact somebody – not that you have anyone but him. 

God, that was embarrassing now that you thought about it. There he was going out and getting laid and you’ve been holding out for him since you were a kid. 

You’re suddenly aware of the fact you haven’t showered in days. You’ve barely eaten, only getting up once or twice to find something to nibble on in the kitchen – a slice of bread is what you usually settle on. 

You pry yourself up from your mattress and stumble to the bathroom. The clanging of pipes is louder than it’s ever been but the hot water is completely welcome. 

When you stand there, under the burning heat that makes your skin raw, you slowly sink to the shower floor. You haven’t cleaned it in a while but you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You let yourself cry again, since it’s all you can do. By the time you’re done, the water is running cold and you stand up to quickly wash yourself with soap so you can at least be clean for the next few days until you can bring yourself to shower again. 

It’s when you’re crawling into bed that it suddenly dawns on you that you don’t have a job. You hadn’t shown up to your shift in days. And you don’t have Simon anymore. 

Panic takes shape and you realize you can’t relax. If you don’t find a job soon you’re going to be on your ass and homeless by next month. 

You haul yourself out of bed and begin rooting through your drawers for something to wear. 

Maybe you can go back to the bar and beg for your job back. You’ll do anything if you have to. 

You’re going to prove to yourself and to Simon that you’ll make it without him – and you won’t end up hanging from a fucking rope. 

The sunlight practically burns your skin from not feeling it in a while. Winter is coming in and it’s already damn cold out and you can see your breath. But you ignore it, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself as you book it for the bar. 

You’re filled with utter dread as soon as you open the door. There’s a couple patrons already drinking and you wonder what day it is. 

You look around, searching for your old boss. He’s nowhere on the floor so you make your way to the staff room and ultimately his office in the very back. 

You only realize you’re trembling when you raise your hand to knock on the door. But you bite back your fear when you’re reminded that you need the job. You need it. 

“Enter,” you hear his chilling voice call. You take a breath and push the door open. He freezes the second he lays eyes on you, he sports a black eye and a busted lip, “You.” 

“M-Mr. Dawson,” you shakily whisper, “I-I know I haven’t showed up in a few days and I’m really sorry but–”

“You want your job back,” he finishes, tossing his head back to laugh, “You want your fucking job back? After you sent that fucking lunatic here?”

“Sent who…?” you ask softly, willing your knees to stop quaking. 

“That asshole in the skull mask. Beat the shit out of me and my blasted customers. You think I’m going to let you back in after that?” he laughs again, “You’re out of your fucking mind, you dumb bitch.”

You wince at the insult, “I-I didn’t send him. H-He was a friend of mine and he did it on his own but–”

“You can have your job back,” he says suddenly, making you freeze, “If you come over here and bend over my desk for me.”

“What..?” you ask softly, watching him sit back and lick his lips as his eyes raked down your body.

“You heard me,” he snickers, “Bend over my desk and let me fuck you and I’ll let you have your job back.”

Granted, for a second, you think about it. You really do. To just let him do it. But you can’t. You know you can't, you would never do that to yourself. 

“N-No,” you find yourself whispering, “I won’t do that…”

His smile fades quickly when you say that and his lip curls in disgust and anger, “Should have let those blokes take you out back and leave you bloody in the alleyway like you deserve.”

You leave with your head hanging low and find yourself standing on the street, fighting tears. You only feel worse than before you went in. 

When you get home, you stand there and cry. That’s all you’ve been doing lately, crying. At this rate, Simon’s prophecy is going to come true and you’re going to be hanging from a damn rope. It sounds nice right about now, actually. Anything to stop the horrific pain that you feel. 

You crawl back into bed and don’t get back up that night. Or the next day. 

The only thing that gets you up the day after that is a painful twang in your stomach. You stumble your way to the kitchen and pull out the loaf of bread you’ve been nibbling at but frown when you see some pieces have begun to mold. 

You take a look in the fridge, finding it painfully empty. The vegetables and fruits that were in there have gone bad now. The meat you had bought was all used up from when Simon cooked. You didn’t even have any cup ramens because you opted to not buy any last time. 

So you resort yourself to tearing the moldy parts off the bread and eating what's left. 

As you stand there, you realize you feel so tired. Like your legs can’t hold you up, so you allow yourself to sink to the floor, back leaning against the cabinet. 

You almost want to laugh at yourself over what you’ve become. Eating moldy bread on the kitchen floor and crying to yourself. 

You place the bread in the refrigerator in hopes that that will stop its rotting process but you don’t have much hope. 

Then, you’re back in bed. And you’re so exhausted. It’s impossible to keep your eyes open any longer. So you sleep. 

But then you have another nightmare. You can’t even remember what it was about, you’re too exhausted to even jolt awake like you usually do. 

Instead, your eyes open and they’re already filled with tears before you even get the chance to register the fact you’re awake. 

So you lay like that. For a long time. Just staring at nothing. The tears stop on their own and you’re left exhausted as usual. It’s become your default state and you begin to wonder if you’re going to feel this broken and hurt forever. 

You zone out, letting your mind go hazy and erase all thoughts from it. 

You don’t even hear your front door open. Don’t hear the boots on the floor. Don’t hear your bedroom door open. 

You hear a call of your name and that gets your attention. But you don’t hear anything else. 

Your imagination? You don’t have a lamp anymore to turn on. You’d thrown it at Simon and it broke.

Suddenly, light floods your bedroom and you bolt up in bed. A large, familiar figure blocks your doorway, a silhouette against the now illuminated hallway. 

He calls your name again and your heart skips a beat. 

“Si?” you whisper, choking on a sob when he steps further into the room. 

He’s got you gathered up in his arms faster than you can think. He’s so warm and it feels so good to have him in your arms again. You wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him – hold him so fiercely that you’re worried you may actually break him. 

“Shh,” he coos into your ear, “It’s alright, everything’s alright.”

“S-Simon…” you can’t help but wail, clawing at the back of his hoodie as if you can feel him any closer than he already was. 

“I’m here,” he sighs, kissing the top of your head, “I’m here. It’s okay. Shit, just let it out. I fucked up, sweetheart, I did. Just breathe and we’ll make everything better, alright?”

“I’m sorry,” you find yourself apologizing through tears, “I-I don’t hate you, Si. I don’t, I promise. I-I was just mad. I’m sorry I was mean.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he consoles you, cupping the back of your head as you sob, “I’m the one who fucked everything up. It was a fuckin’ mistake.”

You can’t even formulate a response, too choked up with your cries that you let out into the soft cotton of his hoodie. You feel nothing but relief at having him in your arms again, you’re almost scared that he’s going to disappear if you let go. 

But he stays there, shushing you and occasionally kissing the top of your head as he rocks you back and forth on the bed. 

Before long, your cries finally quiet and you’re left curled up against him, quietly sniffling to yourself. His grip on you remains firm, unwilling to let you go. 

After several, long minutes, he finally speaks, “Why don’t you go wash up, hm? Nice, hot, shower. I’ll fix you up some food, sound good?”

You sniffle and blearily look up at him, your lashes sticking together from your dried tears, “I don’t have anything.”

“I’ll make you some ramen cups,” he responds. 

He doesn’t like them being part of your diet but it seems he was willing to overlook it just this once so could get something on your stomach. 

“Don’t have any,” you sound completely congested as you talk, sitting up a little to wipe your cheeks.

“None?” he asks, keeping his hands on your body even as you move off of his lap. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t buy any last time I went shopping.”

“What the hell have you been eating then?” he mumbles, slowly standing up from the bed. 

You wince when you hear his knees and back pop from the movement, “I haven’t had much of an appetite but I’ve got some bread…”

Simon is silent after that, nonsensically looking around the room, seemingly taking stock of what's around him. Then he sighs, running a hand through his cropped hair before patting you on the head.

“I’ll order then,” he assures you, “Go ahead and shower, yeah?”

You do as you’re told, eager to wash the drying tears off of your face and hopefully wash away the lingering sadness. You know that you and Simon have a lot to talk about, but you figure it can wait until you’re both mentally prepared for it. 

You feel more refreshed than you have in days when you step out of the shower. You feel a surge of anxiety in your chest when you think maybe he had left while you were showering but when you pause to really listen, you can hear him shuffling about the flat. 

When you slip into your bedroom, you’re shocked to see that your bed has been completely stripped. He also swept up the broken remnants of the glass and lamp you had thrown at him and picked up the books. He had picked up some scattered pieces of clothes and put them in the laundry basket where they belonged. 

You get yourself dressed and place your dirty clothes in the basket so you don’t undo the work that Simon had done. 

You hear a knock on your door and it makes you jump but Simon quickly answers it. He calls your name to let you know the food has arrived and you quickly make your way to the kitchen. 

He’s methodically separating the food he had ordered into two separate groups, clearly having ordered for himself as well. 

It smells positively delicious and you find your mouth watering as your stomach growls. 

You turn to the fridge, opening it to grab a bottle of water out of it. You notice that the loaf of bread you had in there is gone, most likely thrown out by Simon when he realized it was moldy.

You feel your cheeks burn in shame when you imagine him knowing that you had been eating moldy bread because you couldn’t afford to buy groceries – although, even if you had all the money in the world, you were sure you wouldn’t have felt like going out to get any. You wouldn’t have been able to order since you’d broken your phone. 

You open the styrofoam tray and immediately start devouring the chicken tenders he had ordered for you. It was simple, easy, and tasty. He clearly didn’t want to order you anything too hefty given the fact you’ve been existing on bread. 

He had a burger, taking slow bites of it and occasionally nibbling at his fries. You took the opportunity to look him over. 

He honestly looked the same as ever. He didn’t have dark circles or bags under his eyes like you did. He didn’t have red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes from crying for days. For some reason that made a pang of resentment surge through you. He seemed completely unbothered by everything that had happened. Unbothered, even. 

His words ring out through your head like a bell. 

“We’ll see how long you last without me before you’re hanging from a bloody rope.”

Tears sting the back of your eyes again but you bite them back, choosing to take a bite of your french fries. You realize now that you can hear the washing machine going. Clearly, he had put your bedding in there to wash. 

Maybe he was right, you couldn’t survive without him. Couldn’t even wash your own damn laundry. 

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he interrupts your self-deprecating thoughts. 

“Oh, um,” you scramble to think of what to say. Something not depressing or something that could upset him, “I was just wondering what you’ve been up to these few days!”

You try your hardest to sound chipper and interested. You’re positive he doesn’t buy the act in the slightest from the soft, pained look he gives you. But he thankfully plays along. You’re grateful because you don’t want to cry again.

“I was uh,” he cleared his throat and took a sip of water, “I was on base, actually. Nothin’ interesting, really. What, uh, what about you?”

You feel your smile falter and you look down at your food, “Nothing interesting. Tried to get my job back but that was a bust,” you chuckled, playing it off like a goofy anecdote, “Turns out your ex-boss doesn’t like when he gets beat to shit because of you!”

Simon drops his burger into his tray and his nonchalant expression turns sour in half a second, “You tried to go back to work at that shithole? Why the fuck would you do that? You know it’s not good for you!”

All over again, you feel your body flush with anger, and you’re shouting at him before you know it, “What the fuck was I supposed to do, Simon?! You left and I had no idea what the fuck I was supposed to do without you. I assumed you were gone forever,” you voice pathetically broke but you ignored it, tearfully glaring at him, “All you said was that I was gonna end up killing myself and I was doing everything in my power to prove you wrong.”

“You should have known me better than that!” he shouted, slamming his hands on the countertop, “I never would have left you–”

“That’s exactly what you did!” you shriek, pointing an accusing finger at him, “You left me! You ignored me when I needed you to go get laid and then left like I was nothing to you! Look at you for fuck’s sake, I’m a fucking wreck and you look like you couldn’t have fared better! I almost let that scumbag fuck me just to get my fucking job back, Simon! All because you left me.”

For once in his life, Simon seems utterly lost for words. The only sound in the small kitchen was the steady dripping of your leaky sink and you’re stuttering, sharp breaths as you force yourself to not break down all over again. 

“I should have known you better?” you whisper, resting your hands on the countertop, hanging your head so you can catch your breath, “Apparently I should have. Maybe then I would have known better to depend on you like that.”

Simon stands there, across the counter from you but feeling like he was miles away. You could hear his breathing stutter every few seconds, like he was gearing up to say something but he seemingly changed his mind every time. 

The washing machine jingle rang through the apartment and he immediately stepped away. 

Typical. Simon was never the type to truly let himself be emotionally vulnerable so there was no reason for you to expect it now. 

With him out of the room, you took the chance to wind yourself down, taking a few more bites of your tenders. You could hear Simon moving the laundry to the dryer, slamming it closed before turning it on. 

But he doesn’t reappear, evidently hiding out in the tiny room off the kitchen where your washer and dryer were. He was probably collecting himself just like you. But he appears a second later, lingering out of the corner of your eye. You can see him looking at you but you can’t bear to look back at him.

“I didn’t…” he pauses, taking a breath, “I wasn’t…” he lets out a sound of frustration before he tries again, “I wasn’t okay while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t say anything more. It was evident that that was all he was willing to give up in the moment. But you want more from him, you need more. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get past this, Simon,” you whisper, “Everything’s so fucked up. I’m fucked up.”

“I am too,” he says softly, drumming his fingers against the counter, “We’ll fix it.”

His assurance marks the end of the conversation and you both resume eating the dinner he had ordered. But it’s silent and neither of you make an attempt to fill it. 

Once the food is eaten, you take a seat on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest as Simon takes your laundry basket from your bedroom and puts the clothes in the washer. 

Your eyelids feel heavy and you wish so desperately that you could crawl into bed and sleep. You suddenly realize that you have no idea what time it is. 

“Simon?” you call out when you catch him passing by. He stops at your calling, raising an inquisitive brow, “What time is it?”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone, unlocking it so he can see, “9:20.”

“Oh…” you respond, tucking your head back into your knees. 

Simon walks away at that and you briefly wonder what he’s doing now. But your eyelids are so heavy and you’re finding it so hard to think clearly. 

You’re pulled from your sleep a soft hand petting over your head. Your eyes slowly drift open and you’re met with Simon’s sweet, brown eyes. 

“Made your bed,” he says so softly, thumbing over your cheek, “Go ahead and get some proper sleep.”

You nod your head and sit up, briefly wondering how you managed to flop over on your side without waking up. Simon takes your hands and helps you to your feet.

You stumble down the hallway and immediately toss yourself onto your bed. You don’t even bother to crawl under the blanket, simply drop your head onto the pillow and let sleep overcome you. 

When you wake up next, it’s from a nightmare. You gasp into consciousness, eyes wide open in the inky blackness of your bedroom. Your heart pounds in your ears and you find yourself panting, trying to stabilize yourself. 

A heavy weight tosses itself over your middle and you almost panic before you smell Simon’s cologne. Immediately, you relax and sink back into the bed. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep, “I’ve got you.”

“I want it to stop,” you find yourself whispering, feeling so utterly exhausted, “The nightmares.”

Simon tugs you over to him, tucking you securely against his chest, his arm like a heavy weight draped across your abdomen, “We’ll get you fixed up.”

As you close your eyes and sink into his embrace, all you can think is that you should have never been broken in the first place. 

You finally sleep through the night but you wake up feeling far from refreshed. What’s most shocking is that you’re still wrapped up in Simon’s arms – and he’s still asleep. The sun is well risen now, he should have been up and about a while ago. He never strays from his schedule.

You find yourself staring at him. It wasn’t often that you got the chance to see him so peaceful. His lashes were so long, brushing his cheeks. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the deep sound of his breathing. Your eyes slowly drift closed again and you let yourself drift off to sleep once more. 

When you wake up next, it’s because Simon is trying to carefully move you off of his chest so he can get up. You whine and find yourself clinging to him again.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mutters, settling back against the headboard. He wraps his arms around you and lets you melt against him again, your head resting against his chest.

“You slept late,” you find yourself commenting.

“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat and softly rubs your back, “I haven’t had the chance to sleep much. Base is pretty loud.”

You want to mention that it’s never been a problem for him before but you bite it back. Instead, you hum in response. 

As you’re left in the still quietness of the late morning with him, you realize that you still have no idea how you feel about him. You don’t know how you feel about him being back. On one hand, you’ve missed him so, so dearly and you feel so complete with him by your side. You feel safer and more whole, like you could actually start healing again. 

But on the other hand, there feels like there’s a wall separating you two. The fight you two had is a heavy weight that seems to continuously pull you under the water despite how hard you fight to resurface for air. 

You love him, you really do. 

But you’re still so angry at him. 

And it feels like neither of you are going to actually talk about it properly. 

The two of you eventually make it out of bed and get moving around. You still don’t have any groceries but Simon simply orders something for breakfast again.

“Somethin’ I need to ask you,” he says, suddenly terrifyingly serious as the two of you stand in the kitchen eating.

Anxiety flares through you but you try to appear calm and cool, “About?”

“You said that,” he takes a second to collect himself, seemingly searching for the right words, “You almost slept with that guy for your job back.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, “Yeah…what about it?” 

Simon paused when he heard the defensiveness in your voice, “You really almost did that?”

You frown, “So what? I can do what I want, Simon.”

He sighs softly, holding his hands up, “I’m not tryin’ to fight, love.”

“I don’t know why it’s your business,” you mumble, using annoyance to hide the shame you feel, “I just needed a job is all.”

He nods, “You don’t need to worry about that, alright. I’ve got you.”

You take a bite of your sandwich, intent on trying to take the attention off of you, “There’s something I wanted to ask you too.”

“Go ahead,” he says softly, sipping on the drink he ordered – some kind of soda if you had to guess.

“That night…” you start, pausing when you notice the way he stiffens immediately. He plays it off by going back to his food, “You, um, you left to hook up with someone, right?”

He places his sandwich down and sighs, “Yeah.”

“...Why?” you finally ask, “I mean…”

You trail off and Simon remains silent. The tension is so thick you could practically see it between the two of you. Your heart hammers in your chest, anxiety steadily festering the longer he’s quiet. You think he isn’t going to respond at all and start to give up, hanging your head. 

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” he finally says, “It was a…last minute choice and it shouldn’t have happened.”

He says it but you don’t feel any relief. That concrete weight on your chest isn’t eased in the slightest. It’s an excuse, something he’s saying to get you off his back. And that doesn’t feel good.

“I um…” you clear your throat to get rid of the way it sounds thick, “I’m sorry for that time, by the way. When I was throwing things and I-I hit you. I shouldn’t have done that, it was wrong of me. So, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, “You were upset.”

“Simon…” you mumble, food completely forgotten in front of you, “I want to talk. About everything,” Simon seems annoyed immediately but he tries to hide it. You know him too well for that, though, “I-It was a lot and I think we should talk about it – really talk about it.”

He says your name exasperatedly, turning to open the fridge so he can put his leftover food inside before he slams the door. “I don’t want to talk about anything.”

“But I do,” you say, following him as he storms out of the kitchen, “You said some really mean shit, Si. I want to talk about it!”

He storms into the bedroom, slamming it open as he busies himself with picking up inside. You can tell he’s uncomfortable and simply trying to take his mind off of it. But you’re not going to let him avoid it.

“I don’t,” he snaps, final and harsh.

“I do!” you argue again, “I-I want to know why you said that to me. I want to know how you could–”

“Fuck sake!” he hisses through clenched teeth, ripping his hoodie off of a chair he had tossed it onto. 

He pushes past you, tugging it over his head. You follow him out of the room, watching with wide eyes as he picks up his mask from the coffee table. He tugs it on, painfully silent as he fits it into place. 

“What are you doing?” you finally ask when he gets to the door, slipping his boots on with a grunt, “Where are you going?”

“Out.” he growls, jerking the door open so hard it rattles on its hinges.

“Don’t run from me, Simon!” you cry, grabbing hold of his sleeve to keep him from stepping out, “Are you ever going to tell me you're sorry? Are you ever going to look in my eyes and tell me that you're sorry for what you said to me? For leaving me? Or are you just going to do it again?” 

You can’t fight the tears as you cry out, trying to tug him back into the apartment. But he gives you one final look before he rips his arm from your grasp and slams the door in your face. You’re left alone again, frustrated,  sad and utterly confused. 

You wished he would stop leaving. 

You decide to stay up a little later than you had lately, waiting for him to come home. The oven clock read a little past midnight when you finally called it and crawled into bed. Tugging his pillow to your side, you wrapped yourself around it and tried to imagine that it was him in your arms again. Closing your eyes, you will yourself to fall asleep, no matter how much you want to stay up and wait. 

You’re jostled awake by the weight shifting on the bed. Your eyes flutter open as it creaked under the additional weight. You know it’s Simon, even though your back is to him. He remains silent, clearly trying not to wake you and unaware that he already has. 

The heat radiates off of him in waves, comforting and nice. But despite that, you feel tears welling up until they finally trickle down your cheeks. You can hear Simon’s soft breathing and you can feel him shift every once in a while as he tries to sleep. 

“I can’t do this, Simon,” you find yourself whispering. It’s quiet but you know he hears it, “I want to feel better again. I want to stop being so fucking angry at you but you won’t let me. You just leave me again and I want you to stop. I want…” you suck in a breath and find yourself struggling to continue, simply dissolving into cries. You quiet them as best you can into your pillow.

Simon is painfully silent and still. You’re positive he’s not going to say anything. He’s going to pretend to sleep so he can avoid talking about it because that’s what he does best – avoid. When things get too hard or emotional, he avoids it like the plague. 

You suppose it’s from the way he grew up. A mama’s boy who was punished by his father for showing any kind of emotional vulnerability. It led to him being terrified of it as an adult – he refuses to let himself show that kind of weakness, even to someone who means something to him. And you know that you do – mean something to him, that is. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, just an echo in the darkness of the room. But it draws you to silence, “I’m sorry,” he repeats, voice thick with emotion, “For what I said to you and for the way I acted that night. I fucked up, I know. It never should have happened. What I said should have never–” he lets out a heavy breath, “I never should have said it.”

You roll over, blinking the tears out of your eyes, which tumble down your cheeks. With a sniffle, you scoot closer to him, his warmth welcome and comforting. He opens his arms for you, letting you situate yourself against him. You rest your head against his shoulder, letting your hand rest against his chest. His own hand comes up to take it in his, bringing it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“You mean…” he trails off again but you remain patient, knowing it’s difficult for him to fight through his desire to flee, “You mean a lot to me. I never want to lose you. You’re…important.”

You nuzzle your head against him, a silent acceptance of his apology. He kisses the top of your head and pulls you more firmly against him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again for good measure.

He didn't look you in the eyes and tell you he was sorry but he did the best he could. In the inky blackness of your bedroom, as you shared a bed, and he held you so sweetly, he finally said what you needed to hear. And that's truly all you could ask for.

PART TWO.

do not modify, translate, or repost.

[dollyyun]

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

SYNOPSIS: Final exams are approaching, and you have every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decide that it's a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week. Initially, you feel disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but eventually, you allow yourself to relax and enjoy the night. However, some the invited guests, including you, have no notion of what the devil's knights' goal is for this year's Halloween. From the moment you begrudgingly agreed to go to the event, you were fucked because you had no idea what truly awaited you ─  you had no idea how your life would take a drastic turn, especially when you had become their prey.

PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WARNINGS: fem!reader is a saint(good girl), mentions of christianity, dramas, profanities, degradation, slut-shaming, alcohol consumptions, groping, slapping, crying, sexual assault, explicit themes, one sex scene, voyeurism, coercion, blood, violence, murder, toxicity, perversion, corruption. (kindly alert me if there is anything missing out)

WORD COUNT: 18.8k

FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, stray kids, zerobaseone, le sserafim, ive, aespa.

DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.

PLAYLIST: No Hands - Waka Flocka, Tonight - Big Bang, RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose, Scream - Usher, Animals - Maroon 5, Disturbia - Rihanna, guilty conscience - Tate McRae.

RUBY'S NOTE: part one is finally here! do let me know your thoughts on this as well, and i would like to apologise in advance if it doesn’t meet your expectations. nevertheless, enjoy reading!

PART 2, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7 ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

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

The white cami bodycon corset dress feels tight as it accentuates your curves and has a designated contrast lace bustier that levitates your breasts and displays your cleavage, while a portion of your torso is conspicuously visible through the translucent material. The length of the dress reaches so far above your thighs that when you attempt to bend down ninety degrees, your white lace underwear peeks under. 

You're not the type to critique people for how they dress, and you have nothing against people who wear revealing clothes, but right now? You practically look like a slut. A slutty angel, at that.

Your nose automatically scrunches up at the licentious thought. This is definitely not what you had in mind when your best friends, slash roommates, decided to buy you a ‘costume’ that fit the theme that they had also chosen for you ─ an angel. It is definitely ironic how the theme they chose for you supposedly requires you to dress decently.

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

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

If your parents were here to see you now, they would have chastised and disowned you for dressing the way you are now.

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

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

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

However, as you take in your appearance once more, your guilt becomes tenfold while disappointment creeps up on you. How dare you have the audacity to wear the necklace your father bought for you when you are dressed like this? You shake your head, taking a step back. This is not you. You should have never agreed to this in the first place.

Furthermore, final exams are approaching, and you had every intention to immerse yourself in studying for the next two weeks, but your best friends decided that it was a good idea to drag you out with them to attend an all-exclusive event called 'The Devil's Night' since it is Halloween week.

Initially, you felt disgruntled and detested by such a social event, especially one that is hosted by specific delinquents, but upon relentless pursuit of being coaxed by your best friends, you eventually found yourself caving in. Besides, you can’t deny that there is a small part of you that has always wanted to experience a college party since you have never been to one.

However, just because you have never been to one doesn’t mean that you have no idea what a college party entails. You have seen firsthand what happened to your roommates right after they came back from parties or even clubs, and it certainly wasn’t anything pleasant. Nonetheless, you offered to help them by assisting them in holding up their hair while they retched in the toilet bowl and getting them to bed, despite the grimace on your face.

A knock pulls you out of your thoughts, and your eyes remain on the mirror while they trail to a familiar face from behind. She looks absolutely striking with her overall fit, which matches her theme, which is that she is a cowgirl.

“Hey, Yunjin.” You greet her rather weakly.

Yunjin, as enthusiastic as ever, offers you a smile, displaying her pearly teeth. “Hey, gorgeous. Are you ready to go?”

Usually, you would reciprocate, as her smiles are infectious, but this time, with the doubts lingering in your head, you remain crestfallen. “No. I don’t think I’m up for it anymore.” You murmur, your eyes lowering, and that is also when Yunjin’s smile drops as she finally notices how crestfallen you look.

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

“I know that you are having doubts about this, but trust me when I say that just because you’re attending a party and dressing up like this, gorgeously at that, does not make you unworthy or any lesser in the eyes of our religion.” Her voice comes out strong yet tinges with gentleness, which you can’t help but acquiesce to.

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

Just like that, you lost contact with her, and subsequently, you began to wonder what went wrong and questioned your friendship with her, which you cherished dearly. Not many years later, when you first stepped foot in this university, you met Yunjin again, and miraculously, she turned out to be one of your assigned roommates. You assumed that she would not recognise you or even brush you off coldly, but you were overjoyed when she welcomed you with a bear-crushed hug and told you how much she had missed you. 

The thought of asking her what truly happened years ago did come to your mind, but for some reason, you were afraid and apprehensive of the outcome, and more importantly, you didn’t want to lose her again. So you chose to play safe. But what matters most is that you have reunited with her.

In return, you muster a faint smile on your pink, glossed lips. “You always have a way with words.” You say before releasing a soft sigh. “Fine, I’m ready.”

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

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

“You look amazing, Karina.” You compliment her earnestly. Genuinely, she knocks the breath out of you, and despite being roommates for three and a half years, her striking beauty often makes you question yourself about whether she is indeed real.

Truth be told, you didn’t get along with Karina in the first few semesters. As she’s a fashion design major, it was inevitable that such a mess was expected from her, but you didn’t expect for her mess to scatter to the shared living room. You’re particular about cleanliness, so you disapprove of your roommate being blatantly inconsiderate, especially when you and your other roommates have had to clean up her mess. You recall when Karina overheard you delivering your complaints to your other two roommates, and she confronted you. From then on, she began nitpicking you, and you often found yourself in a dispute with her. You got upset whenever she pointed out the fact that you were plain and boring.

Precisely two years ago, you found her alone in the living room, at three a.m., as she was drinking her heart out with tears streaming down her cheeks and her eyes red. You wanted to mind your own business as usual, but it didn’t sit right with you to leave your roommate alone to reel in despair, so you cautiously approached her, and surprisingly, she confided in you. That was when you got to know that she had been cheated on by her boyfriend.

You listened attentively to her, and you even offered comforting words to her in which she thanked you by giving you a hug before falling asleep on you. Of course, you had tucked her in to sleep on the couch with a pillow for her head to rest on and a blanket to give her body some warmth.

You swore that Karina would return to her usual self, but she took you by surprise once more when she started to become amiable towards you. From then on, you two developed a newfound sense of camaraderie. 

“Says you! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Karina exclaims, her red lips outstretched into a wide smile, while you detect sincerity in her tone. “I’m proud to declare that my taste in fashion is impeccable.”

“I agree.” Yunjin chimes, casting you a smirk while your cheeks flush in pink from their fond gazes on you. “Our girl looks like a literal angel. If I were gay, I would have hit you up long ago.”

Before you can say anything, a new yet familiar voice joins in the conversation. “I know I agreed for Y/N to join us, but after some thought about it, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

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

“Why do you think so, Wonyoung?” Yunjin asks with a frown.

Jang Wonyoung, one of the university’s it girls and the girl whom you can call your soul sister. You recall the first time you met her when she opened the door to your dorm. You were captivated by her doll-like beauty and were so stunned that you stammered your words when you reciprocated her warm greeting. Wonyoung is in the same major as you, journalism.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that the two of you are in the same major and in the same classes, but you found it peculiar how fast you got along well with her during your first week as freshmen. Nonetheless, you were grateful to have found a friend like her.

Although you are close with Yunjin and Karina, you can’t deny the fact that you feel more comfortable and at ease with Wonyoung. The two of you understand each other, even without words. Both of you are kindred spirits; whenever you feel down, it affects her just the same, and you two often share your victories together without any hidden jealousy or ill-feelings. There is this special connection you have to Wonyoung that is indescribable. Even your other friends often joke that the two of you are long-lost twin sisters.

Wonyoung’s eyes flicker to yours fleetingly, but it is enough for her to affirm her prior intuition before she returns her gaze to Karina and Yunjin. “I just have a bad feeling about Y/N going, okay? You guys do know that my intuition has never failed me.” She tells them firmly. “Besides, it’s an all-exclusive event for invited guests only.”

“So? We can easily sneak Y/N in since there will be tons of guests.” Karina shrugs her shoulders. “Their bouncers are kind of sloppy anyway. Remember when some of the uninvited students sneaked in last year and the years before that?”

“And what did that lead to?” Wonyoung counters firmly with a single eyebrow arched. This time, silence befalls Karina while you notice Yunjin’s grim expression.

“What happened?” You ask, finally speaking up. There is no denying how intrigued you are by the sudden yet discernible change in the air between your best friends.

“There is nothing that you need to concern yourself with.” Yunjin is quick to recover herself as she shoots you a charming grin while nudging her elbow against yours. “Come on. At this rate, we’ll be the last ones to arrive.”

“Maybe. But at least we’ll arrive fashionably late.” Karina mirrors Yunjin's grin.

You decide to push aside your curiosity and proceed to grab your phone while Karina and Yunjin have already made their way out of your room. After adjusting your wavy brunette locks in the mirror, you turn around to depart from your room. Your eyebrows jump when you see Wonyoung waiting for you just outside, and her face remains as serious as ever.

“Are you sure about this?” She asks you, and her voice has a touch of gentleness to it, which makes your eyes soften.

“Yes.” Although you sound sure, you can’t say the same for your churning stomach. Giving her a tight smile, you begin to loop your arm around hers. “If you’re too worried about me, rest assured that I won’t stray from you.”

“Good.” Wonyoung seems a tad satisfied with your statement. A small smile appears on her pink lips. “Maybe I am worrying about nothing. This is supposed to be your first ever Halloween party. We should be having fun! That is as long as we stick together.”

You smile wryly in return. She knows better than anyone that your idea of fun consists of rotting in bed and reading a few good books on a Friday night.

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When you first heard of Devil’s Night, you had an inkling that the event, let alone the name itself, was undoubtedly not good news.

Devil’s Night is an annual Halloween event that is hosted by the notorious fraternity of devil’s knights, but according to your best friends, the overall in-charge of Devil’s Night are the four leaders. However, you see them all the same ─ just a bunch of delinquents who love to flaunt and assert dominance over Crestview Meadows University everywhere they go.

Naturally, you expected the location of the event to be a frat member’s backyard, but as soon as Karina, who volunteered to drive the three of you to Devil’s Night, presses on the pedal gas and prompts her vehicle to move forward after the golden gates opened, your jaw goes slightly unhinging at the sight of a divine modernization palace.

As Karina continues to drive, searching for an empty spot to pull over on the massive asphalt where different vehicles are arrayed, you are busily getting enthralled by the captivating structures of fountains in the front yard. The movement of people making their way to the entrance of the grand palace captures your attention, and your eyes sparkle in amazement at the diversity in their costume designs.

As soon as Karina manages to pull over at an empty spot and turns off the ignition, you step out of her vehicle with your eyes remaining fixated on the divine palace. You swear that it is nearly as massive as your campus. You begin to wonder who resides in the palace, and if so, has Devil’s Night always been hosted here?

“Y/N, don’t forget your mask.” Wonyoung’s voice from behind pulls your attention away from the palace. When you look at the white domino mask in her grasp, you gladly retrieve it from her and attempt to wear it, but Wonyoung and even Yunjin insist on assisting you, doing so with care.

Your cheeks flush pink once more. Despite being the same age as them, your best friends and your other friends often baby you, including protecting you from anyone who has ill-intent towards you, especially from some of the frat members who have tried to approach you in the past. Of course, you feel much gratitude for your friends, and you are blessed to be surrounded by feminine love and support. There are moments where you do feel overwhelmed by them, but according to their words, your innocence is highlighted as crucial and needs to be protected. Hence, they often shelter you from the cruelty of reality and want you to remain the way you are.

Pure, and a literal saint.

“There!” Yunjin gives you a grin as she pats your cheek affectionately. “With your mask, it’ll be hard for anyone outside of our circle to recognise you.”

As the four of you begin to make your way to the entrance of the grand palace, with Wonyoung interlocking her arm around yours, your fingers make their ascent to touch your mask. Your best friends have agreed that, in order to sneak in seamlessly, you needed a mask to conceal half of your identity. They wouldn’t want to risk anything. A part of you wonders what would happen to the uninvited guests crashing into the event, but another part of you retains your curiosity before it gets the best of you.

At the moment, as the bunch of you walk past the bouncers standing by the entrance, you hold your breath while your heart pounds against your chest, but when they allow you in, you release a relieved yet shaky breath. You feel Wonyoung’s arm squeezing around you in reassurance, and you voluntarily relax every tension in your body, but your heart remains pounding. You can’t ignore the turmoil within you, uncertain of what the night will entail.

“You guys made it!” A high-pitch squeal diverts your attention from admiring the opulence of the palace’s interior to the familiar blonde, who is dressed up as Annabelle from the famous conjuring film, but she manages to pull off the look rather gorgeously instead of terrifying. Her eyes instantly meet yours, and her face beams with a widening smile. “You came!”

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

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

“Yeah, but we can’t believe that you’re actually here!” This time, another voice causes you to look at the sight, and at once, the rest of the inner circle has gathered around you, giving you hugs and gushing over your look.

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

So what if they hate you just because you are not from an esteemed, affluent family? You managed to pass an entrance exam with a perfect score, and you even earned yourself scholarships. Frankly speaking, you are not bothered by the fact that there are students who dislike you for your status ranking, because in the end, your GPA remains a perfect 4.0 and your professors favour you most. Plus, your future is all set.

“Okay, ladies, gather around." Yunjin announces, and the group of you huddle in a circle, with giggles and banter emanating from you and your friends. “While we’re here to have fun, we must never forget to keep Y/N in our sight at all times, especially since this is her first time attending Devil’s Night.”

“Hey, I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.” You insert yourself strongly, but your demur goes unheard by them as they continue to quickly run through what to look out for, mainly because your safety is highly regarded by them.

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

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

“I know, but you have to understand that this is different.” Wonyoung asserts firmly, to which you can’t help but resign.

Still, you mutter, but audible enough for Karina and Yunjin to hear, “What is so different about a mere Halloween party?”

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

“Ironic, because here we are, dragging Y/N with us.” There is a certain bite in Wonyoung’s tone. 

“Nothing is going to happen to Y/N as long as she is in our sight.” Yunjin reassures Wonyoung once more, and your attention drifts to the scenery before you.

It appears that you haven’t been paying attention to your surroundings earlier, and now you find yourself entering what looks like a club. Incredulity buzzes through you. You definitely did not expect that there would be a club inside the palace. As a matter of fact, the club looks lavish, with a B-stage right at the very front and a bustling crowd enjoying and dancing to the music that has obscene lyrics, which makes your face twist in a grimace. You have no idea how enormous the venue is, but you can’t deny the fact that you find it impressive, and there are even two separate bars on each side of the venue.

Yunjin grabs you by your forearm and drags you with her and Karina to head over to the bar while Wonyoung trails behind you. Thankfully, there are not many people by the bar, but even so, you become conscious of how you look as eyes latch onto your form.

“Am I showing too much skin?” You ask Yunjin in a whisper as you settle next to her, seated on a high stool.

Yunjin’s eyes scan all over you before she gives you a smirk. “Yeah, but don’t worry. You look absolutely stunning. It’s a shame that you’ve been gatekeeping your beautiful complexion and your curves all this time.”

“Agreed!” Karina chimes next to Yunjin, casting you a mirthful grin. “You should be flaunting your curves and proving to those fuckers who insulted you for the way you looked that underneath your layer of clothes is the body of a model!”

You dismiss the profanity that left Karina’s mouth, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You girls flatter me too much.”

“It isn’t flattery when it is true.” Yunjin flags down one of the bartenders to give him her order before she looks back at you. “Do you want a non-alcoholic beverage?”

“Actually, I’d like to try an alcoholic cocktail.” Your statement surprises your best friends as they look at you with wide eyes, knowing that you have never drunk any alcoholic beverages. After all, you are practically a saint.

“Are you sure?” As always, Wonyoung’s worry for you is evident. “You might get tipsy after a few sips since you have never drunk one before.”

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

“A tequila sunrise for the angel here.” Yunjin chirps to the bartender, and being a natural flirt, she winks at the guy who, in return, blushes but quickly proceeds to make all of your orders.

As the three of your best friends are engaged in a conversation, you decide to look over your shoulder with your body tilting to watch the ongoing performance from a live band. You can’t deny that the music seems to be getting to you, and seeing the partygoers dancing and having fun tempts you to join them.

Unknowingly, your lips curve into a small smile. Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you closely with a sharp gaze just near the bar, where there are velvet couches arrayed.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunjin pushes the glass of cocktail towards you as you look down at the liquid, which is a vibrant blue.

Your fingers latch onto the stem of the glass, raising it just slightly while hesitation touches your tongue. Your best friends watch in anticipation, and you don’t want to disappoint them. So you bring the edge of the glass closer until your lips touch.

You tip your head towards the back as you begin to take sips of the liquid. Surprisingly, the taste isn’t as bad, and neither is it too strong. It is rather addictive, so you eagerly drink the rest of the content until there is nothing left.

“How’s your first drink?” Wonyoung asks as she examines you carefully.

Maybe it’s the alcohol that is starting to affect your system, but you feel oddly elated. You give your best friend a grin, with your dimples appearing on your cheeks. “I think I would like to have another.” Of course, Karina and Yunjin are more than eager to indulge you, while Wonyoung remains neutral.

Once again, unbeknownst to you, the same pair of eyes that have been watching you closely are enthralled by the new sight of you.

Seated leisurely on the velvet couch with his legs spread, his lips tip up in a smirk as he takes sips of his vodka while his eyes remain fixated on your enticing figure and your angelic features.

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You have no idea how things escalated. Just moments ago, you were having fun with your best friends by the bar, and even Wonyoung lowered her guards after seeing how genuinely carefree you looked. Now, you are among the bustling crowd. You lose sight of your best friends as you venture further. Instead of panicking, you find yourself enjoying it with your body instinctively moving to the infectious rhythm in which the DJ is currently playing Waka Flocka’s ‘No Hands’ as it reverberates throughout these walls.

Maybe it’s the alcohol in your system that has completely intoxicated you and renders you slightly tipsy, as evident by the way you emit giggles and how you’re dancing fluidly as though you are a natural at it, but not a single thought of regret appears in your mind.

Feeling a tad annoyed by your domino mask, you rashly remove it, not caring whether someone may or may not recognise you. Besides, the people in your vicinity seem too inebriated to care, as they dance and even make out lewdly in the open with their partners.

A part of you is berating you for losing yourself in the abysmal of this toxicity, but you shut down that part of you, giving into the whispers of the devils and succumbing to the addictive thrill by allowing yourself to flaunt your moves.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes have been watching you as he gradually makes his way to you despite the bustling crowd, and the moment they see him, they part and make way for him. The way you move got him in a trance, especially with each sway from your body. Your curves, which your skimpy dress accentuated, entice him to place his hands all over you.

Your giggles sound melodious to his ears as soon as he nearly reaches you from behind. His eyes darken with each passing second as your body sways with fluidity, and your back is arched with your head tilted up, immersing yourself in the music while a sultry smile smears across your glossed lips.

Fuck, he has no idea there is a side to you where he gets undoubtedly turned on by. Flashes of images of you being fucked relentlessly by him appear in his mind as he fantasises, and how he can already imagine your insatiable taste probably won’t satisfy him unless he has you locked in his possession.

Without thinking twice, he places both hands on your waist from behind, his fingers tingling with the sensation of your warmth. Instead of feeling alarmed, you remain relaxed and loose, dancing along to the supposedly stranger behind you.

You allow him to pull you closer until your buttcheek hits his hardness, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, yet you don’t stop dancing. You accidentally grind yourself against him, eliciting a low groan from him with his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe while his strong arms snake around your waist.

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

A soft gasp leaves your lips when you feel his warm lips touch your skin before he proceeds to kiss your neck sensually. You should be pushing this stranger away, but instead, you allow yourself to fall weak and succumb to the allure of his kisses on your neck. You blame it entirely on the alcohol.

“You taste exquisite, love.” You hear him murmur those words, or you assume he murmurs those words, since the music is overpowering. But you swear you recognise his voice. You feel his arms tighten around you, while the way he nips at your skin startles you.

In a blink of an eye, he spins you around, his hands remaining on your waist. The entire place is dim, but the LED red and purple lights allow you to catch a glimpse of his face. Recognition glimmers in your eyes. 

“Jake.” You utter his name in a daze while your eyes begin to shamelessly scan his overall fit. You hate to admit it, but he nearly got you foaming in the mouth.

He looks extremely good in all denims with his chain necklace hooked around his neck, and his long raven strands have been styled impeccably, tempting you to run your fingers through them. Your eyes catch a sight of an inked tattoo on his collarbone area peeking due to his loose white tee that hangs a little low.

You don’t make any protests as you remain numb in his possession. Everything feels muddled in your mind, but you are conscious enough to continue dancing with him with a hint of sensualness.

Jake unfurls a soft smirk on his pink plump lips while he blatantly checks you out, appreciation and lust dancing in his handsome gaze. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Y/N.”

“Yeah? Surprised?” You feel oddly breathless, and you have no idea whether it’s from the dancing or the palpable tension between the two of you.

Jake hums attractively, his fingers tapping sensually on your waist to the beat of the ongoing music, and when you finally notice his gaze that settles on your cleavage, heat weaves across your cheeks.

“A lovely surprise at that.” Jake says in a murmur, dipping his head and leaning towards you while your pulses go erratic in anticipation, but he stops right next to your ear. The tip of his nose grazes lightly on your earlobe, sending you involuntary shivers down your spine. “But you shouldn’t have come here.” As he whispers lowly in your ear, you detect a hint of darkness in his tone.

“Why? Because I’m an uninvited guest?” You ask breathlessly, hating and loving how his intoxicating cologne tempts you to bury your nose into his chest.

Your breath hitches in your throat when he presses a deep, sensual kiss on your cheek before withdrawing from you to get a good look at your face. Upon seeing how dazed you truly look, he smirks once more and squeezes his hands on the flesh of your hips. “Cute.” He mumbles. His eyes flicker down to your glossed lips, which entice him to kiss you, but he holds himself back.

“You should leave while you still can, love.” He mutters, reluctantly releasing you from his possession and already yearning for your warmth.

“Y/N!” You hear voices that belong to your best friends calling for you from behind. You look over your shoulder just in time to catch glimpses of their faces amongst the dancing crowd.

When you turn back, Jake is nowhere in your line of sight, bringing a confused frown to your lips. Even as he has mysteriously disappeared, your skin remains tingling with the sensation of his lips and hands. Your mind is in a muddle, infused with the intoxication of the alcohol and his strong cologne that you will definitely remember.

“We’ve been trying to search for you everywhere!” Wonyoung exclaims, giving you no time to process when she lunges for a tight hug. She releases a relief sigh before pulling away and examining you. “Thank God you’re okay. But why are you not wearing your mask?” She asks, looking alarmed.

“I throw it elsewhere. I don’t know.” You mutter, blinking your eyes as you feel lightheaded. “Don’t worry. I’m not afraid of being recognised. They’re all preoccupied with partying and dancing anyway.” You provide some assurance to Wonyoung, while Karina and Yunjin seem relaxed.

“Let’s go. We can’t miss the second rave.” Karina tugs at your wrist, dragging you with her gingerly and guiding you through the crowd.

“Rave?” You ponder out loud, and your eyes dart between Yunjin and Wonyoung.

In response, Yunjin gives you a Cheshire smile. “Trust me. You are going to love it.”

“By the way, who were you dancing with?” Karina inquires as she busily guides you to a place, which you presume to be the backyard, while there are other guests along with your group heading to the same place.

“No one.” You answer curtly, giving her a tight smile. “I had fun dancing alone.”

You know better than to inform your friends that you were dancing intimately with Jake Sim, or else you’ll receive an earful from them, considering they detest the knight members. They even reminded you to stay away from any of the knight members, particularly the four leaders.

As soon as the thought of the four devil’s knights’ leaders comes to your mind, your eyes widen in dreadful realisation while your heart nearly lurches in your chest. Since you were too busy getting caught up in the heat of the moment, you failed to realise that Jake is one of the leaders, the one who had you in his possession with a scintilla of danger emanating from him.

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The rowdy commotion from the partygoers sounds faint with each step he takes towards the meeting room on the second floor. Jake, who was previously in denims, has changed into practical attire for the upcoming section of the main event. He busily zips up his black bomber jacket while his face remains devoid of emotion, but his mind occasionally drifts off to you.

How tempted he was to snatch you away from the scenery and bring you to one of the rooms with the intention of giving you the best fuck of your life as well as leaving you with his marks on your porcelain skin. He quickly shakes away the thought of you, not wanting to get hard again, as it’ll only be a bother since he is already running late for the briefing.

Stopping in front of the door that is made out of steel, he punches the code onto the padlock keys before the door automatically opens. The familiar sight of a fairly lengthy corridor with separate entrances arrayed on each side of the walls greets him as he steps inside. Hearing the door behind him close with a thud, he begins to make his way to the meeting room, where multitudes of voices are teeming in the cold atmosphere as it gets louder.

Without announcing his arrival, he saunters into the massive meeting room with his hands tucked inside his pockets while his face remains neutral, ignoring the rest of the knight members of the lower rank as they are settled in their respective houses.

The devil’s knights fraternity consists of four houses─ North, South, East, and West. 

Each house has its own respective leader. However, their goals are aligned. This has always been the system, as each year there are numerous new recruits, and they do have to dominate their respective territories on campus and even on the streets in town. Almost everyone is knowledgeable about and conscious of the renowned devil's knights. Crestview Meadows University favours the devil's knights fervently, especially considering the fraternity was founded many years ago by four particular individuals who are now affluent figures.

“There he is. The star of the night.” A snarky remark is made by one of the leaders, also known as Park Sunghoon. Jake’s gaze lands on him as he continues to saunter forward until he reaches the table where the other leaders are gathered as well.

“Spare me your sarcasm, Hoon.” Jake says in a monotone, throwing himself onto the swivel chair and making himself comfortable.

“You’re late.” Sunghoon shoots him a scowl as he is seated on the table. The table itself is scattered with a variety of knives.

“He was probably fucking around with the freshies. Can’t even keep up his pants for a minute.” This time, another voice makes a remark, prompting Jake to look at his fellow leader slash best friend. Jay Park.

Jake narrows his eyes at Jay’s smirk. “You’re lucky I'm in the mood to play nice.”

“Enough.” A firm voice is resonating enough for the other knight members in the room to quieten the volume of their chatter. Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon shift their attention to the figure seated by the window sill with his arms crossed over his chest, also known as Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung remains unmoving, but his gaze alone is enough to assert dominance over them, especially since he is the oldest out of the four of them by one year. “Now that everyone is here, we may begin our briefing. For those of you who were on bouncers’ duties, how many uninvited attendees were there?”

All of the knight members would usually gather in this meeting room for briefings and other important matters pertaining to the annual devil’s night planning, et cetera. However, there are some rooms that are restricted to them unless they are the leaders. Furthermore, this very palace is officially owned by the four devil’s knight leaders, considering that their fathers were the founders of the devil’s knights. As a matter of fact, this palace was previously owned by the same founders, but as many years passed and their sons followed in their footsteps in joining the renowned fraternity, the founders collectively agreed to bequeath the palace to their sons.

North: Jake

South: Heeseung

East: Sunghoon

West: Jay

These four delinquents have successfully led their respective houses for the past years with their skills, and they were impressively the youngest leaders to have been appointed when they were just freshmen. Though they have different personalities, they get along well, considering that their fathers are best friends as well.

“Approximately twenty.” One of the low-ranking members takes the initiative to answer, a sophomore, and he is from the West House.

However, his answer raises an eyebrow from his leader. The sophomore flinches at the way Jay directs his sharp gaze, which is penetrating enough. “Approximately?” Jay’s cold voice affects everyone except the other leaders.

“He meant to say that there are twenty-three uninvited attendees!” Another sophomore from the West House steps in to assist the other sophomore, who is shaking in his boots.

Before anyone can speak up, one of the windows swings open, allowing the gust of wind to enter. The four leaders watch, completely unfazed, as a familiar figure wholly in black, layered clothing emerges, climbing into the meeting room, followed by two figures.

The three of them stand tall in their line of sight as they remove their designated masks, now revealing their faces. Jake is the first person to greet the three of them with a lopsided grin. They are Devil’s Knights’ honorary members who are juniors and appointed to be leaders next year once the four current leaders graduate from university. Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.

“The kid’s right.” Sunoo says, placing his mask down on the table. “There are a total of twenty-three uninvited attendees.”

“That’s a long list of people to hunt down compared to last year’s.” Riki’s deep voice echoes in the room, while his tall figure is intimidating enough for the other lower-ranking members.

“The more, the merrier.” A Cheshire grin smears across Jungwon’s lips while a familiar bloodlust gleamers in his eyes. “Oh, we’ve already covered all the perimeters. Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Felix, and Jeongin are on standby.”

“Good.” Heeseung nods his head firmly, feeling satisfied with how competent their future leaders are. Heeseung’s eyes glide across the fraternity present in the room. “All of you know what to do. Remember to only hunt down whoever’s name you were given, and most importantly, Namgil and his crew will meet their demise tonight.”

“Ah, Kim Namgil.” Sunghoon smirks, a wicked intent can be seen glinting in his eyes at the mention of the ex-member. “I can’t wait to crush that fucker’s skull.”

Jay scoffs out a deadly chuckle, his veins are brimming with vengeance. “Not until I get to him first.” 

“Patience. We’ll be sticking strictly to the plan.” Heeseung tells them sternly before looking back at the rest of the fraternity. “Remember that our goal is to wreak havoc and terror, including mayhem. For those of you who are new recruits and this is your first Devil’s Night, you do not need to worry about the law enforcement, as they’ll only be here with the sole purpose of establishing the roadblocks to prevent our guests from escaping until Devil’s Night is over.”

To add on, Devil’s Night is a tradition that has been going on since their founders’ times and happens every Halloween. This tradition is also supported and endorsed by the mayor of Seoul and other influential figures that are highly regarded in the eyes of the government. There is no denying that by permitting Devil’s Night to be lawful on every Halloween, it proves that the government and its system have long since been corrupted.

“In short, you may also do what you please for the next twelve hours.” Jake grins deviously with his hands clasped together. “In other words, unleash your inner devils.”

At once, an uproar emanates from the fraternity before Jay begins to dismiss them. “Don’t forget your masks and weapons!” He reminds them as they proceed to make their way out of the meeting room rowdily, leaving the four leaders and the future three leaders alone in the room.

“There is another important thing you guys should know.” Sunoo speaks up, drawing their attention. Interest sparkles in Sunoo’s eyes. “Y/N is one of the uninvited attendees.”

“Y/N?” Sunghoon scoffs out in disbelief, refusing to take Sunoo’s words seriously. “You should really work on your humour if you plan to impress us.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” Sunoo deadpans before he motions to Riki and Jungwon. “Ask them if you still refuse to believe me. They saw her at the second rave.”

“Yup.” Jungwon toys around with one of the knives in his grasp leisurely while a smirk paints his canvas. “She looks pretty, though. It’s a shame to lose a pretty face like hers.”

“Her name is not in any of the lists.” Riki points out. “So who shall be hunting her?”

“Can I?” Sunoo asks with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “I’ve always wanted to scare her.”

“No.” Jake takes everyone by surprise as he nearly growls out. His eyes darkened at the thought of you. “No one touches her. No one except me.”

“Since when did you get to decide on this alone?” Jay raises a single eyebrow at his best friend. “To make it more interesting and thrilling, I say the four of us hunt her down.”

“And kill her afterwards?” Sunghoon’s face twists in a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong. It won’t affect me if we kill her, but I don’t want those pesky friends of hers to hunt my ass down.”

“What about you, Heeseung?” Jay asks as all heads turn to the silent male, who appears in deep thought. “How are we going to decide on what to do with Y/N? Rules are still rules. Uninvited attendees shall not make it out alive on Devil’s Night.”

“We hunt her down as well.” Heeseung states calmly. “But don’t kill her yet. We’ll decide what to do with her once we hunt her down.”

“Then we’ll make our way to our respective posts.” Jungwon offers the four leaders a salute before wearing his mask and making his way to the opened window, where he expertly jumps over while Sunoo and Riki follow suit.

“We have like thirty minutes left until the last segment.” Jay notes, staring down at his wristwatch before his gaze returns to the three of them. “I don’t know about you guys, but I, for one, am intrigued to see for myself if what Jungwon said was true about Y/N looking pretty.”

“She was.” Jake utters, his lips curving into a grin, while he recalls the gorgeous sight of you. “I was with her earlier.”

“How?” Sunghoon asks incredulously.

“She willingly danced with me. Oh, and she seemed rather tipsy, so it makes the hunt a whole lot fun.” Jake chuckles breathily.

“What did she dress up as?” Heeseung finds himself asking this, feeling almost compelled and intrigued to know about the theme you chose.

“An angel.” Jake is certain of his answer, and no, not because of the way you dressed, but because you are indeed an angel who is unfortunate enough to have stepped into their territory without knowing the consequences of your actions.

“How fitting.” Heeseung’s lips turn into a subtle smirk. “Well, gents, it looks like we have ourselves an angel to hunt down.”

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You can definitely understand the rationale of those who have been to this event for the past few years and those who are invited behind their hype for Devil’s Night. The activities the knight members hosted are so diverse that no one can simply miss out on anything. Well, you did miss out on the famous cliché game of truth or dare, not that it bothered you.

Presently, you and your group of friends, including Winter, Kazuha, and the others, are making your way back to the backyard once more after getting some refreshments earlier when the second rave ends. Now all of you have decided to attend and participate in the third rave. The last rave of the night.

The B-stage at the backyard is bigger than the one inside the palace at the supposedly club room, and the crowd is tenfold compared to the previous rave, which enlivened the night even more while the ambience in the air is vibrantly teeming with the LED pink and purple lights flashing across the sea of crowds and into the skies. The bass-boosted music of ‘Tonight’ by Big Bang that the DJ is playing reverberates throughout the expanse of the palace and even further.

“Look at Y/N! Babygirl got moves!” Giselle’s remarks draw attention from your other friends to you, watching you in an effervescent element, which is undoubtedly a rare sight for you.

“I’m glad she’s having fun!” Kazuha exclaims cheerily, smiling widely at the sight of you giggling and dancing in your own world with Chaewon and Liz.

Wonyoung, who opts to take a short break from the dancing, watches you with a softened gaze while her hand is holding a red cup of vodka. Is she still worried for you? Yes, but right now, she is glad to see you having genuine fun.

“She needed this.” Yunjin speaks beside Wonyoung as she watches you as well. "Now, are you glad that we dragged her here?”

“Perhaps.” Wonyoung says. “As long as nothing happens to Y/N or any of us.” Yunjin nods in agreement.

“Okay! I need a break!” Chaewon laughs out, halting her movements, but you pout your lips at her, to which she giggles and pecks your cheek. “Sorry, babe, but you’re on your own now.”

Chaewon makes her way out of the crowd, excusing herself to head to the bathroom while your other friends immerse themselves in the music and separate themselves from you. Eventually, you blend into the crowd, causing Wonyoung and Yunjin to lose sight of you.

The thought of other sweaty bodies coming into contact with yours doesn’t bother you in the slightest. There is a wild glint in your eyes as you dance with a random couple, giggling and succumbing to the exhilaration brimming in your veins.

Unbeknownst to you, you accidentally bump into someone from behind, but just as you are about to apologise to the person, firm hands grip your waist as he pulls you back to him, allowing your back to hit his solid chest.

“Nice moves you got there.” His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe, reminding you of Jake earlier, but this time, this person’s touch has a hint of roughness, whereas there was gentleness in Jake’s. “Why did you stop, baby?” He hums seductively.

“Jay.” You breathe out, going completely still. His hands remain on your waist, sending you goosebumps with the sensation of his warmth.

“Angel baby.” He lulls beside your ear before you feel him dipping his head down to press a sensual kiss on your shoulder blade. “Come on. Show me your moves.” It is a command.

Despite the trepidation coursing through your veins at the fact that one of the devil’s knights's leaders has you in his possession, you know better than to refuse him. So you begin to sway your body before you gradually pick up the rhythm.

Eventually, you lower your guard around him and dance willingly with him, occasionally grinding your body against his, to which he groans lowly at the sensation of your ass in contact with his dick.

A giggle leaves your lips upon feeling his breath tickling your skin when he buries his head into the curve of your neck. Instinctively, your hand ascends to brush your fingers through his soft raven locks while the two of you continue to sway in sync to the music.

“If I had known you were this fun, I would’ve brought you out with me to a nightclub sooner.” Jay murmurs near your ear before he places a sensual kiss on your pulse.

“You can’t kiss me whenever you want, you know?” You giggle once more, enjoying the way his strong arms are hugging your waist from behind. Perhaps the remnants of the alcohol persist in your system, but you have never been this playful and flirtatious around guys.

“Oh, but I can. I can do whatever the fuck I want with you.” Jay rasps against your skin on the cheek. You feel his fingers stroking your stomach in a sensual manner before they make their ascent to your chest. “Besides, you’re in our territory, angel baby.”

You gasp while your heart lurches in your chest when he gropes your breast, and a low groan leaves his lips next to your ear. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the newfound sensation that pools in your tummy.

“Fuck, baby.” He cusses lowly before pressing another kiss on your neck. “The things I want to do to you right now, but unfortunately, duty calls.”

You frown at the loss of his touch and warmth. “Jay─” But as you turn around, Jay disappears into the crowd, just like Jake did.

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

Your face twists into a grimace at how visible her annoyance and frustration are on her face. Soon, you spot your other friends as well in your vicinity. A part of you desires to find Jay and ask him to elaborate on what he meant by his statement earlier, but you know better than to further involve yourself with him. Just as you step forward, the music dies out, eliciting confusion and anger from the crowd.

“What’s happening?” “Hey, DJ! We weren’t finished raving!” You hear commotions around you, making your head spin lightly.

What happens next throws you completely off guard, and subsequently, you become fully sober miraculously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is going on?" You ask in a demand, with pure confusion reflecting in your eyes. You notice how Yunjin looks oddly collected, but as soon as her gaze runs over you, her eyebrows pull together before a low cuss elicits from her.

"I told you that it was a bad idea to drag her here!" Wonyoung startles you greatly with how she sounds genuinely irate, but when you take a glance at your gorgeous raven-haired best friend, your stomach sinks at the apparent distress written across her delicate features. "We need to get her out of here before any of the knight members get to her, or any of us, for that matter!"

"Winter and Liz are with the others!" Karina informs in haste as she appears next to you, seeming to be running with how apparent she is panting lightly. "We have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of here!"

"It's no use even if we try to escape." Yunjin sighs, running her fingers through her red strands. "They're not letting us out until it's over."

"I don't care." Wonyoung snaps at Yunjin, taking you by surprise when she grabs your wrist tight. "We will find a way to get out of here, even if it means that I have to use violence to fight off the knight members."

"I don't get it!" You raise your voice as you dart your eyes between your best friends. "This was supposed to be a normal Halloween night, but now crimes are acceptable for the next 12 hours?! What sort of─"

The sound of a shotgun pierces through the air, shocking you greatly, and before you can even process anything, you find yourself being dragged by Wonyoung, with Yunjin and Karina following closely in haste.

By the time you have arrived at the parking lot, your eyes widen at the gruesome sight of two masked men displaying violence upon a student who, you presume, attends the same university as you, looking all bloodied with his face completely ruined.

"Come on!" Karina shouts, snapping you out of it before you are being thrust into her car by Wonyoung, who then proceeds to enter the backseat with you while Yunjin is in the shotgun.

As Karina switches the ignition of her vehicle, a shriek leaves your lips as soon as the window next to you shatters into pieces by a golf stick, prompting you to duck your head and move further from the masked man as he attempts to reach out for you, but Karina immediately slams her foot on the pedal gas and speeds off.

A loud gasp escapes from you while your heart is pounding hard against your chest. Wonyoung swiftly engulfs you in her warm embrace, in which you desperately seek comfort, even if it's just for a moment.

"What the fuck?! There are roadblocks everywhere!" Karina exclaims, and you sense a scowl in her tone.

"That's what I've been telling you! We can't escape anywhere until Devil's Night is over." Yunjin says exasperatedly before she looks over her shoulder at you, uncertainty and concern residing in her gaze upon seeing how visibly shaken you are as you cling onto Wonyoung's arms.

"Ah, fuck!" Karina curses once more before steering the wheel expertly, finding other possible solutions. Yunjin shoots her a withering glare, to which Karina retaliates. "Don't give me that look. I have totally forgotten what it was like on Devil's Night."

"Was that why a few students died last year?" You manage to speak through shaky breaths. "Because they were killed on Devil's Night."

Silence befalls your best friends, but as Wonyoung squeezes her arms around you, you know that your presumption is correct. You have finally connected the dots. Initially, you didn’t want to make the assumption that those students who died on Halloween were the same ones who attended Devil’s Night. But as their silence confirms that, your stomach sinks in dread, and you begin to pray silently.

Deciding to distract yourself, you notice some bikers are on the same run as they ride ahead of you, as well as two cars, to which you assume that they are the invited guests.

"We can hide at some place, maybe a building, where there is a high chance that they won't find us." Wonyoung tells Karina, while the latter nods her head and continues to drive with keen eyes.

The vehicle comes to an abrupt halt, sending both you and Wonyoung flying forward. A series of profanities emanate from your best friends.

"Damn it! The wheels got punctured!" Karina groans loudly as she hits her forehead on the steering wheel. "So what's the plan? Either way, we're probably going to get fucked."

"We run, duh." Yunjin pushes the door open, while Wonyoung seems reluctant but heeds her words.

"But we're wearing heels!" Karina's exclamation goes unheard by you as you attempt to catch up to Yunjin and Wonyoung. You wince as you soon begin to feel the aches. Tonight is the wrong night for you to be wearing heels.

You don't even know where you are at this moment, focusing solely on following your best friends from behind, until you hear a familiar voice calling for your group just a few metres away.

"Guys! Over here!" You recognise the guy, who is a junior from the business department. He is fairly famous among the ladies. With the motion of his hand, he is beckoning for your group to enter what looks like an abandoned, massive, three-story building.

"Ricky!" Wonyoung greets him with a friendly yet brief side-hug as soon as she reaches for him. "Are you sure this place is safe?"

"On Devil's Night? Nowhere is safe." Ricky shoots her a lopsided grin before his eyes settle on your face, and instantly, he blinks his eyes in surprise. "Y/N? You're here on Devil's Night?" He asks in dubiety.

In return, you give him an awkward smile. "It's kind of a long story."

"No time to explain. Thanks for helping us out, by the way." Yunjin pats his shoulder firmly before brushing past you.

"Come on." Ricky pulls you in and proceeds to close the fairly huge door with a loud thud.

A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you involuntary shivers as your arms latch around your body in an attempt to warm yourself while your eyes scan the interior of the building with no lights in sight. The only source of light is the moonlight, which streams through the broken window glasses.

You hear hushed yet noticeable voices belonging to unfamiliar and familiar people that go scattering across the floor. You keep wandering around, getting immersed in how hauntingly beautiful the interior building is, as though the previous owners were the royalties.

As you look away from the broken chandeliers above you, you notice that you are in a foyer with a massive flight of stairs in sight. That is also when you realise that you have gone astray from your best friends.

"Wonyoung?" You call out for her, your voice echoing throughout the dark, and your eyes have adapted to the setting. "Yunjin? Karina? Ricky?"

Your body jolts when you hear a piercing scream that belongs to Karina, although she sounds as though she is somewhere on the second floor. Your eyes widen in mortification at the thought of your best friend being gravely injured before you proceed to take hurried steps forward.

Just when your foot steps on a stair, a dark figure standing way above the second floor captures your attention. As you look up, your heart nearly lurches in your chest upon seeing the person with the physique of a man looming over you. He is wearing a black bomber jacket with the hoodie covering his head, and his red mask obscures his identity. His head is tilted to one side, and you would have found it cute if it weren’t for the fact that he is holding a literal metal baseball bat in his grasp.

At the moment he makes his first descent, you begin to make your retreat by undoing whatever you're about to do. You hear a breathy chuckle elicited from the red-masked man that you swear sounds familiar.

Your stomach churns with uneasiness as you continue to back away from him cautiously. Oddly, his movement seems deliberately slow, as though he is taking his time trying to scare you. Releasing a shaky breath, you turn around with the intention to run, but you bump into a solid chest.

Before you can fall, gloved hands latch on your waist, steadying you. As you slowly look up, colours drain from your face at the closed-up look of a designated black mask that he is wearing, and you have no idea who he is. He is also wearing similar attire as his fellow comrade.

"Look at what we have here." His voice sounds oddly deep, as though he is using some sort of advanced technology to conceal his real voice. Despite him wearing a mask, you swear you can feel his gaze raking all over you. "We're giving you ten seconds to run far, angel. Starting now."

Of course, you know better than to delay. So you run, ignoring the touch of his gloved hands on your skin that remains lingering. Your heels and thighs are hurting from all the running. Your chest is hurting with the way your heart pounds hard. Trepidation courses through you. You fear what is to happen next, and you hope to live to see the next sunrise.

It appears that luck is not on your side tonight, as you find yourself falling to the ground. Pain shoots up in your ankle, but thankfully, it is bearable. With a wince, you slowly lift your head up with your hair dishevelled, and when you do, you feel as though your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

Fear resides in your gaze as you stare up at the figure looming over your fallen figure, his boots directly in front of your face. His head is tilted to one side as he stares down at you, and his face is obscured with a white mask that has a vertical red stripe on one side.

Your mind is screaming at you to run from him, but it is as though you have been rendered immobile, your body paralysed with petrification. Tears well up in your eyes as he bends down on one knee and uses his melee knife to slide under your chin, tilting your head up.

"Please don't kill me." You hold back a sob, attempting to stay strong, but a traitorous tear betrays you as it slides down your cheek.

"You should’ve thought about it twice when you decided to show up in the first place, sweetheart." His voice sounds akin to that of the previous masked man, but you can detect a gentleness in it. For a moment, he reminds you of a certain individual who has been your academic rival for the past few years.

In a blink of an eye, you gasp as he hauls you up with a strong grip and slams you against the wall without any thoughts of gentleness. Your heart continues to pound against your chest as he pins both your wrists above your head tightly while his other is occupied with his melee knife, the tip sliding down your cheek, but not enough to leave any traces of scars.

"Were you supposed to dress up as an angel?" He asks while leisurely trailing the tip of his melee knife against your throat and descending to the expanse of your chest, where your cleavage is enticing to him. "Yeah, you were. But a slutty angel at that."

The degradation in his soft tone throws you off guard. Before you can speak, he renders you speechless when he leans down to press his lips against yours, and you would have considered this your first kiss if it weren’t for the barrier of his mask.

Karina’s piercing scream shatters whatever trance you are in, prompting you to turn your head sideways where her screams are echoed. “Karina.” You utter her name worriedly before looking back at the mysterious masked man whom you will call White. “Please don’t let them hurt Karina or any of my friends.” You implore him rather meekly.

White chuckles, though you can easily detect his mockery. “You are so fucking adorable, sweetheart. Thinking that you can order me around just like that.” He leans away from you and releases you.

Just when you think you can make your escape, he proves you wrong when he grabs your arm firmly, pulling you to flush against his body warmth. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re done with what we need to do.”

“We?” You blurt out just as he drags you with him. It isn’t long until the previous masked men you saw greet you in your line of sight as they laze around by the foyer.

Their heads snap at you, and despite wearing those masks, you swear you can feel the intensity of their gaze on your figure. You decide to call them by the colour of their masks.

“Are we seriously bringing her with us?” Black asks, his tone tinged with annoyance. “She will only be a hindrance to our mission.”

This time, you decide to intervene. “Not to worry! I can just leave you guys to your mission while I see myself out.” You crack a nervous smile before attempting to run past White, but what happens next greatly shocks you.

With ease, White has thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you with his hand holding onto the back of your waist for security. White simply ignores your pathetic attempt to protest as he gives Black and Red a firm head nod before they proceed to make their ascent to the flight of stairs.

You continue to wiggle in his firm grip, and you are conscious of the fact that your weight might bother him, especially the weight in your thighs, as they are slightly thicker than your best friends’.

“Stop moving!” White grunts, getting annoyed at your antics. In an attempt to silence you, a slap echoes throughout while you feel a stinging pain on your buttcheek before your cheeks go flushed at the realisation that he has just smacked your ass without any hesitation whatsoever.

“Jungwon, Riki, what’s the status?” Your ears perk up at the familiar names, whom you recognise as the renowned juniors that are closer to the four devil's knights leaders compared to any frat member.

“Everything is ready. Just say the word, and we’ll blow the building up.” You hear Jungwon’s voice coming from someone’s phone, and you frown at his statement.

“Felix just informed me that Namgil and his crew took the bait and had just entered the building.” Red speaks to White and Black, whereas your stomach is starting to hurt from how sharp White’s shoulder blade is.

You poke at White’s back, earning his attention. “My stomach hurts. Can you let me down? I promise I won’t run away.”

Silence is all you receive from White, which disheartens you. So you close your eyes and try your utmost to withstand the pain while holding back whimpers. Just then, you feel yourself being settled down on a soft cushion before you open your eyes to see yourself seated on a worn-out couch.

You are about to thank White, who is looming over your figure, but you are rendered speechless when he ties your wrists together with a black cable tie.

“What are you doing?!” You raise your voice, the disbelief is evident in your tone. “You didn’t have to tie me! I gave you my word that I wouldn’t run away!”

“Just to be safe.” White tells you before taking a step back. “Stay put, sweetheart. We’ll be right back for you.”

With that, White, Red, and Black make their departure, leaving you alone in this dark room with the only source of light coming from the window, moonlight streaking in, and the faint screams of terror emanating from the outside tainting the night.

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You did attempt calling for help or even your best friends, but to no avail. Your throat is starting to hurt, and you are in dire need of water to quench your thirst. To make matters worse, your ankle looks slightly swollen from falling earlier.

You refuse to obey White’s instructions, so you decide to venture out of the room, trying to find the way out. With each step you take, you limp slightly, wincing every now and then due to your throbbing ankle. You definitely need medical attention before it gets worse.

After what feels like forever, you finally manage to descend to the first floor in the foyer as you hold onto the railing. You heave a sigh, and a glimmer of hope shines in your eye at the thought of escaping from this place, from the three masked men.

But you should know better than to hope, especially when you have broken the rules that are expected of you as God’s blessed child.

Dread fills you when a group of five mask men are in your line of sight. However, these mask men look entirely different compared to the devil’s knights. They are wearing red bomber jackets instead of black.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” One of them, whom you presume is the leader, steps forward as he cackles wickedly. “Y/N. I never thought I’d see a day where the good girl dressed up like a slut.”

You recognise that voice. Kim Namgil. Apparently, he broke some sort of rule or whatever that got him dismissed from the fraternity club. You have heard that he was the worst of the worst of them.

Of course, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, with your slightly swollen ankle, you turn around with the intention to run away from them, and you are almost successful when you feel a painful impact on your back from getting hit by a wooden baseball bat, resulting in you falling to the ground on your knees. You don’t even have the time to attempt to defend yourself despite your wrists that are tied together when he flips you around and pins you to the ground with his fingers curled around your neck in a firm, threatening manner.

“I’ve always wondered what it feels like to fuck you and break you.” Namgil snarls coldly in your face behind his black mask. “After I’m done with you, I’ll let my crew have their turn in destroying your cunt, and then right after, I’ll tear your limbs one by one.”

The fear coursing through your veins is so intense, while tears spring from your eyes. But you remain resilient, still fighting and struggling in his firm grip. Raising your leg, you knee him hard in the sack, eliciting a pissed-off snarl from him.

Your head is turned sideways at the impact of his slap, and your tongue tastes the metallicity of your blood from the cut at the corner of your lips due to his ring. This time, you don’t hold back your sob, weeping helplessly underneath him, yet you keep praying to God that you will be saved.

“Namgil, I don’t think we have time to mess around with her.” One of his crew members tells him with a sense of urgency.

“Just a quick fuck.” Namgil tells him as he squeezes your throat tight, causing black dots to appear in your vision before he slaps your face again, and this time, your head starts to throb painfully.

“Damn, she looks like a fucking slut.” You hear one of them make derogatory remarks with chuckles. “Faster, Namgil. I can’t wait to fuck her pussy.”

At the moment you hear a zipper, more tears spill from your closed eyes as you give up hope and await the pain. But nothing happens next. Instead, you hear a commotion involving punches being thrown and a series of groans and cusses.

You no longer feel the weight of Namgil on top of you, as someone has pulled him away from you. You flutter your heavy eyelids open, and the gruesome sight of Kim Namgil being beaten to pulp by Red greets you just across from you.

“You fucking dared to touch her?!” Red growls out as he grasps his metal baseball bat and is tainted with Namgil’s blood. “You deserve to die a slow, painful death, Namgil.”

You look away with a wince as soon as Red brings down his metal baseball bat to Namgil’s ruined and bloodied face once more, diverting your attention to White, who plunges his knife into one of Namgil’s crew members, to which you gasp, startled upon witnessing the knight members displaying true violence in real time.

You hear a painful scream of a man before the sound of bones cracking makes you go flinching, but you find yourself looking at where the source of the sound comes from, staring at Black, who has broken the limbs of the one whom you recognised as the guy who made the last remark when he slutshamed you.

Then you see a new masked man, and you call him Silver, making his way over to Red, who is evidently berserk and is stopped by Silver. Red seems to breathe heavily and steps away from Namgil before he turns his head to you, but you are busy watching Silver, who appears to be saying something to Namgil tauntingly before the sound of bones crushing pierce through the air.

Upon having to witness such gruesome sights with blood splattering everywhere, tears are continuously streaming down your cheeks, but you have no strength to sob out. Fear and trepidation spread throughout your chest at the thought of you being their next victim.

You flinch as footsteps approach you while you remain on the floor, having no strength after being assaulted by Namgil and his crew. You hear low murmurs around you while your mind is in a haze.

You can barely comprehend anything when you feel someone cutting the cable tie that binds your wrists. A pair of strong arms lifts you and carries you with ease, prompting you to flutter your eyes open to see yourself in Silver’s arms.

“Jungwon, blow the building up.” You hear Black speak as soon as the five of you step out of the abandoned building.

“Wait.” You mumble groggily, wincing as your head throbs once more. “My best friends, they’re still inside─”

“The only ones who are inside are the dead bodies.” Silver says above you, his deep voice is akin to the other masked men’s, surprising you. “Your friends are still alive and have been brought to another place.”

You don’t say anything, too shocked to form coherent sentences upon witnessing the building blow up with a booming sound. You watch as the building is engulfed by the roaring, ferocious flames while the masked men continue to advance forward without a care for the burning building behind them.

A black van pulls over by the curb before the door slides open, revealing the familiar faces of your juniors. “Get in.” Riki tells them before his dark eyes land on you. His eyebrow is raised at you, but he doesn’t say anything as he scoots to the back when Silver steps forward to place you inside.

“Hey, Y/N.” Sunoo greets you with a grin as he is seated in the shotgun. “Fun times, ey?”

You don’t respond, resorting to silence as the rest climb into the van before the door closes. Jungwon, who is the driver, presses his foot on the pedal gas as he speeds away. You expect the four masked men to reveal their faces, but they don’t.

Silver, who is sitting next to you, turns his body to face you with his head tilted to one side. “Now, what shall we do with you?” He ponders out loud, and his statement sends shivers down your spine.

But you are too numb to make any protest or defend yourself from these masked men, as the gruesome images of blood and the sound of bones crushing that emanate from Namgil and his crew remain reeling in your mind. Despite the fact that you’ve always had complete distaste for Namgil, you know that he didn’t deserve to die.

The moment gloved fingers caress your cheek, you flinch away from Black, who is seated next to you. “Since the second part of the hunt is starting soon, why don’t we let angel here join the others instead?” He suggests to his fellow comrades.

You release a shaky breath as you stare at Black with visible fear and curiosity. “Second part of the hunt? You mean to tell me that earlier was just the first part?” Your tone is laced with disbelief.

“That’s right. The first hunt was to hunt and kill the victims on our list while the others spread horror and terror to those lucky ones who didn’t make it to the list.” This time, Jungwon tells you, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror fleeting, yet you manage to catch his smirk that has obvious wicked intent.

Perturbation gnaws in your tummy as you lick your dry, quivering lips. “And what does the second hunt entail?” You manage to ask despite the shakiness in your voice.

“You’re about to find out, angel.” Black chuckles with a hint of darkness, and concurrently, the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop, nearly flinging you to the front, but Silver’s quick reflexes manage to prevent you from doing so with his arms shooting out to hold you.

The door automatically opens before Silver makes his exit first, he turns to you and holds his hand out for you, to which you hesitantly accept his assistance before you make your exit as well.

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“Y/N!” Your girls, specifically Wonyoung’s voice that overpowers theirs, call for you as soon as the four masked men have brought you to where the other victims are gathered, as well as the other knight members with their masks and similar attire. You shudder upon seeing different types of weapons in their grasp.

All the while, you have been trying your utmost to ignore the throbbing pain in your ankle and walk as normally as you can. The sound of gates rattling closed from behind startles you, prompting you to look over your shoulder to see that the entrance is closed. You scan your surroundings briefly, noticing that they have brought you to a massive labyrinth garden, which appears to have a multitude of mazes that also seem endless. You spot the divine palace in the background, but it looks further away from you.

Once White releases his grip on your arm, you waste no time rushing for your awaiting friends and crash into the first person who has her arms outstretched for you. Your eyes water as you bury your head into her chest, and for once,you are glad that she’s taller than you by five centimetres. Wonyoung’s warmth shrouds your cold, trembling form while you feel relieved to see her and the others again, despite the fact that this comfort you desperately seek and bask in is only temporary.

You silently thank God for keeping your good friends safe and in one piece.

Just then, your eyes widen at the sudden realisation that hits you, prompting you to pull away from Wonyoung. “Karina!” The moment you utter her name, your gaze immediately settles on the familiar catwoman standing in between Winter and Kazuha. As your eyes rake all over her, confusion etches on your canvas. “You’re not hurt? But I thought I heard you scream earlier.”

Karina gives you a sheepish smile. “I got startled when a cobweb of spiders hit my face, and afterwards, one of the knight members scared the fuck out of me, but don’t worry, honey, I’m perfectly fine!” She reassures you once more, and you begin to relax, only for a while before the screeching sound of a speaker pierces in the air, causing all of you to wince.

“Congratulations for making it to this stage.” White speaks into the microphone, garnering everyone’s attention while you briefly look over to the numerous familiar faces of the other students amongst the crowd. “However, Devil’s Night is far from over, and unfortunately, whether you’ll survive this stage or not is all dependent on you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On his command, everyone, with the exception of the knight members, erupts into squeals and tumultuous commotion as they make their way to the multitude of mazes haphazardly. Wonyoung has already dragged you along with her, shoving her way through the crowd with profanities occasionally leaving her lips while her grip around your wrist tightens.

“This way!” Wonyoung barks over her shoulder to you before tugging you with her into one of the mazes.

“Yunjin! Chaewon! Girls!” You shout to your friends at the other side, who fail to hear your calling as they proceed to enter different mazes, followed by some other victims. You wince when Wonyoung adds more force as she drags you. “Wony! Slow down!”

“Are you crazy?!” Wonyoung raises her voice as she gives you a bewildered glare. “We only have seven minutes, and you’re telling me to slow down!?”

“But my ankle hurts.” You whimper as you finally allow yourself to limp, prompting Wonyoung to halt her steps while panic resides in her gaze.

“How did this happen?!” Wonyoung begins to fuss over you, bending down to touch your swollen ankle before returning her gaze to your face. “Never mind that. How bad does it hurt now?”

“Like an eight? I don’t know.” You grimace, putting more weight on your other perfectly fine ankle. Your eyes dart at your surroundings while you rub your arms in an attempt to provide some warmth due to the cold breeze that hallows as well. “How are we even supposed to find the exit in this massive labyrinth?” You ask, feeling disheartened. You yearn to return to the comfort of your bed and snuggle with your soft toys.

“Can you try to withstand the pain?” Wonyoung asks with a concerned frown, and you nod your head in response. “Okay. We’ll try to brisk-walk and search for the exit. We have about,” She pauses as she glances down at her phone screen. “Four minutes?! Shit!” She grabs your hand and wastes no time walking in haste.

You ignore your ankle, which is throbbing painfully now, as you follow her. Amidst the trepidation, determination sizzles through you, and you have every intention to escape from the knights’ grasps, specifically the four masked men from earlier. Your stomach churns while you have an inkling that they’ll be hunting you down.

Time seems to be passing by slowly as you are starting to feel the exertion dawning on your body from the events that happened since the moment you stepped foot into their territory. Wonyoung, too, looks exhausted as she has finally released your hand, but as always, she remains composed with her head held up high, and determination is like steel in her eyes.

The two of you turn to the right corner, and at once, groans are emitted from both of you. Greeted in your line of sight is a lengthy, narrow maze with different entrances on each side. “I swear we’re going in circles!” Wonyoung scowls indignantly, but nonetheless, she advances forward while you stop to take a breather.

You pant lightly, wiping the sweat above your brow. “Wait, Wony─”

But just as Wonyoung turns around, a figure decked out in familiar attire and a grey mask that obscures his identity emerges from the shadows of the entrance next to Wonyoung, who grabs her with his arm around her waist while the other has her wrists locked firmly.

“Hey! Get the hell away from me!” Wonyoung thrashes in his grasp as he drags her with him. She turns her head to glare at the man in the mask before recognition flickers in her gaze. “Jungwon! Please!”

A gasp leaves your lips at the name that leaves her mouth. You watch as Jungwon continues to drag Wonyoung with him while the latter continues to plead, though you can’t help but discern the softness in her tone towards him.

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

“Don’t, Y/N. Unless you want to end up on the wrong side of my knife.” The wicked intent in his voice is resounding, rendering you frozen in your spot. “Luckily for you, you’re not mine to kill.”

“Y/N─'' Jungwon clamps his hand over Wonyoung’s mouth before they eventually disappear from your sight as they enter one of the entrances, leaving you alone and helpless.

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

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The shrill screams, which belong to different individuals, have been continuously pierced into the cold, foreboding atmosphere once more, startling you as you tighten your arms around your body in an attempt to seek some form of succour.

By now, you are numb to the pain in your swollen ankle and solely focused on surviving this hunt and making it out alive. You turn to a left corner and continue to venture forward until you hear a voice belonging to a familiar person that kindles hope in your chest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, just like that.” The mask man throws his head to the back, holding Yunjin by her ass cheeks to assist her. “You’re doing so well, baby. Keep fucking on me like a desperate whore you are.”

You squeeze your thighs together to suppress the sensation that becomes oddly unbearable in your core. Just as you stagger a step back, your back hits a solid chest, causing your heart to drop.

Before you can run away, an arm slithers around your waist, locking you in place. A tut leaves his lips. “Naughty angel. Having fun watching your best friend fucking him like a whore?” It is Black.

“N-No.” You protest weakly, looking away from the sight, but he uses his gloved hand to grip your jaw and turn your head, forcing you to keep your eyes trained on your best friend.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Black speaks next to your ear while your breaths get heavier and your mind is tainted with forbidden thoughts the longer you watch them fuck. “I know you love it. You’re probably wishing that was you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brunette waves flail behind you, soaring in the wind as you run while a few strands of your locks stick to your face. Your heart is pounding harder against your chest, and your chest begins to tighten with anxiety at the worst possible outcome.

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

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

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

Tears stream down your cheeks, but you refuse to let out a cry. You back away from him quickly before turning around to run, but you crash into a solid chest and firm hands hold onto your waist, prompting you to look up and stare at Red with panicked eyes.

“Caught you, sweet angel.” You hear him purr with pleasure. You shove him in the chest, pushing him away from you. Facing your two predators, you back away in haste. Pure fear shines in your glistening eyes.

From your peripheral vision, you spot Black emerging from the tall bushes with a dagger in his grasp, and you can immediately discern his wrath, as evident in the way he trudges towards you.

“Stay away from me!” You begin to scream at them, tears are relentlessly streaming down your cheeks. “Leave me alone, you sick bastards!” You ignore the small voice in your mind that is berating you for saying a profanity.

“So the angel can scream.” Silver remarks with a cold chuckle. “Scream all you want, because no one will come to save you.”

Frantically, you grab a small rock at the side as you bend down before you throw it in the direction of Silver, who dodges in time. Silver scoffs out a chuckle. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, princess.”

You yelp out as you trip over something, resulting in you falling backward with your bum hitting the hard ground. You wince before you attempt to get away from them, crawling backwards as your three predators are nearing.

But at the moment your hand touches a boot behind you, your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach before you force yourself to look up. Alas, White is staring down at you while in his grasp is a white handkerchief.

“You failed, sweetheart.” White says softly. 

In an instant, Red hauls you up, forcing you to stand and holding you firmly by the arm. You whimper out a cry as you feel your hands being forced to the back as White has your forearms interlocked with one hand.

“Don’t worry, baby. We won’t be fucking you tonight.” Black chuckles darkly at the side, the anger that emanates from him is evident. “This is something to remember us by when you wake up, and when you do, remember our masks.”

Red grabs your chin, tilting your head up. “We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but White covers your mouth and nose with the white cloth, forcing you to inhale the substances that he had sprayed with. You struggle in their grasps with tears leaking from your eyes, but soon, you begin to lose strength while your mind becomes groggy.

Your hooded eyelids feel heavier with each passing second. Alas, you succumb to the darkness as it shrouds your whole being.

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“Y/N? Y/N! Wake up!”

It feels as though your soul has been slammed down into your body as you jolt from your deep slumber. Fluttering your eyes open, you are greeted by the familiar sight of your bedroom ceiling before you finally realise that you are back in your dorm. The exertion dawning on your body renders you immobile as you remain in bed. 

You feel soft fingers stroking your cheek, prompting you to look at your childhood best friend, whose face has a twist of concern and sympathy. “Babygirl, you’re fine now.”

That is also when you realise the dampness on your cheeks. With Yunjin’s assistance, you raise your body to be vertical and lean on the headboard. You glance down and notice that you are in your Hello Kitty pyjama set.

A relief sigh leaves your lips. So whatever happened last night was just a mere nightmare. Yet, it is a nightmare that you will probably remember for the next few days.

“Is she awake?” Wonyoung’s voice draws your attention to her as she barges into your room. As soon as your eyes meet hers, you notice the sheer relief in her eyes. “Y/N, thank God you’re fine. You’ve been asleep for so long.”

“It wasn’t that long.” Yunjin tells Wonyoung before taking a glance at her phone screen. “Oh, wait. You’re right. Y/N missed breakfast and lunch.”

“What time is it?” You ask, finding it odd that your throat is dry and scratchy.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Yunjin replies as she gives you a sympathetic smile. “It’s understandable that you woke up this late.”

“I had a nightmare.” You mumble, your fingers tracing circles on your duvet that is covering your outstretched legs. “A really terrifying nightmare. I don’t think I ever want to experience that again.”

As Wonyoung sits on your other side, you immediately latch your arms around your best friends, bringing them into a hug while you sigh in contentment. “I’m glad it was just a nightmare.”

But they don’t reciprocate your hug, which brings a frown to your lips. You pull away from them and notice prudence in their heavenly features. “What?”

“Babygirl, what happened last night wasn’t a nightmare.” Yunjin tells you, her voice sounds quiet.

The relief you feel dissipates and is replaced by apprehension. Your chest feels constricted as fragments of the whole event that transpired last night coalesce into one. The last remark from Red remains vividly clear in your mind.

“It wasn’t?” You ask numbly, looking at Wonyoung for confirmation, and the latter nods her head. Your eyes trail down to her neck, noticing fresh purple and red hickeys on her porcelain skin.

“Hey, the other girls will be coming over─” Karina stops her sentence midway as she saunters into your room, her eyes meeting yours. “Y/N! You’re awake!” She grins at you, oblivious to your disheartened spirit. That is also when you notice bandages on her forehead and hands.

You uncover the duvet from your legs. The familiar throb in your swollen ankle serves as a reality that you did, in fact, attend Devil’s Night on your own accord, and you have no one else to blame but yourself.

“I helped to ice your ankle and apply some ointment.” Wonyoung tells you as she rubs your thigh soothingly. “It should heal in two or three days.”

You remain silent while your eyes turn crestfallen. Your three best friends exchange worried glances.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Yunjin asks gently, and when she touches your shoulder, you visibly flinch, bringing a frown to her lips.

The obscenity of your best friend willingly fucking herself onto one of the knight members is something you can’t erase, and you can’t help but feel sickened and disgusted. You're disgusted at her, and more importantly, you’re disgusted at yourself for bearing forbidden thoughts and for how you acted. You recoil from her touch, scooting slightly away from her before you return to lie on your bed with your back facing her.

“Yeah. I just want to be alone for now. Please.” You croak out pleadingly while tears spring from your eyes as you hug the duvet close to your chest.

“Fine, but don’t miss dinner, okay?” Wonyoung pats your arm gently before she proceeds to depart from your room alongside Karina and Yunjin. All the while, they become confused by your unusual behaviour.

“We’re not done with you yet, sweet angel.”

Red’s words remain lingering in your mind, taunting you and evoking the familiar fear within you while dread crawls onto your skin.

With a faint of heart, you release the sobs you have been holding back, weeping in the comfort of your bed that is surrounded by your soft toys. You will definitely remember your first Devil’s Night, and it will also be your last.

You fear that the events that transpired on Devil’s Night have been engraved in your mind as well as rendering you traumatised, and you have no idea if you will ever recover from them.

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You didn’t leave your room for the next few hours. Your eccentric behaviour worried your best friends gravely, and they took turns knocking on your door to get you to come out and have dinner, but you didn’t respond to any of them, causing them to resign and finally leave you alone.

It is not that you hate your best friends, but the fact that they don���t seem to be bothered by whatever happened last night and their normalcy confounds you. At the same time, you can’t help but feel resentful towards them. Knowing that they have been attending Devil's Night since freshmen, how do they still not find any issues in the Halloween event that entail such heinous pursuits?

You love your best friends, you really do, but right now, as you have been reflecting deeply, you wonder if you truly know them.

“Mom.” You greet your mother on the line as you press speaker mode.

“Hey, sweetie. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep at this hour?” Your mother’s kind and gentle voice brings tears to your eyes while you try your best to hold back your sob. You yearn to be in her warm, comforting arms, where you feel undoubtedly safe.

“I slept more than enough earlier.” You force out a laugh, wiping the fallen teardrop from the corner of your eye. “Is Dad there?”

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

“Nothing. What makes you think that?” You raise your body vertically, sitting on the bed, while one of your soft toys is in your lap as you toy with its arm mindlessly.

“I know my daughter, Y/N. You hardly called me at this hour. Did something happen to my sweetie?”

Alas, the tears brimming in your eyes cascade down your cheeks. “Am I still good, Momma?” Your voice cracks in between, allowing your true emotion to surface.

“Of course you are. You are always good, and goodness is always inside of you.” Your mother remains constant in the way she speaks to you in a soft lull.

“But what if I did something bad?” You say sullenly. “What if I sinned?”

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

“Are you mad at me?” You ask meekly, swallowing a lump in your throat. You hate disappointing your mother.

“No, I’m not.” Your mother reassures you. “Get some sleep, okay? It isn’t good to stay up too late. I love you, always. Remember that, sweetie.”

“I love you too, Mom.” You reciprocate as your voice comes out shaky before you end the call.

Your gaze settles on the familiar book of the Bible on your nightstand. With your trembling hand, you reach out for the book. Once you have it in your possession, you begin to flip over the pages before your fingers halt at a certain page. At once, you begin to read.

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“Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?” Kazuha asks as soon as you dismount from her Yamaha bike. You proceed to give her the helmet before you adjust your slightly tousled hair, making it neater.

“I’m sure.” You tell her, a tinge of resolution glimmers in your eye despite the guilt that has been churning in your tummy. You give her a smile of gratitude. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

“Nonsense. You’re my friend, aren’t you?” The leather-clad girl grins at you. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll fetch you. Besides, we’re long overdue for a date.”

You watch as Kazuha speeds off with the blaring noise from her engine, eliciting a chuckle from you as you know that your dear friend is simply flaunting her sleek black bike.

The smile on your lips flattens as soon as your gaze settles on the divine building. A gust of wind hits your skin, sending you shivers and prompting you to hug your white coat around your figure. It has been quite some time since you visited the church that is situated on the same street as the campus due to the heavy workload given by your professors for the past months that you didn’t even have the time to visit.

You find yourself stepping forward before picking up the pace and entering the building. Thankfully, there are not many people. You offer a polite smile to the sisters walking past you, as they also welcome you with warm smiles.

At once, you feel at ease, and the familiar tranquillity in the ambience feels like a gentle hug, assuring you that despite the sins on your shoulder and the guilt weighing on your conscience, you will be pardoned in the end. After all, you are God’s most loved child.

The priest, who appears to be speaking to one of the members of the church, directs his focus to you, and once he sees your face, a warm smile touches his lips. “It has been awhile, my child.”

You reciprocate his smile despite your nervousness. “School has been keeping me occupied.”

“What brings you here on a Sunday morning?” The priest asks.

You release a shaky breath while regret shines in your eyes and the guilt tightens around your heart. “I have a confession to make.”

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

It isn’t long until you have finally reached it, now seated on the chair with your heart pounding against your chest.

“Whenever you are ready.” The priest says to you from the other side.

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

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

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin  @darkjongsung @mlywon

[mysticxpizza]

I want both of you

inspired by this ask

This can be read as a standalone or as a sequel to Teach Me

Summary: you decided that you want both your boyfriend Patrick and his friend Art at the same time. 18+ no minors

Warning: threesome, p-in-v sex (wrap before you tap guys), oral m! receiving, Patrick and Art make out.

word count: 756

“Is Art coming over later?”, you ask Patrick as he comes home after a match.

“Do you want him to come over later?” he teases, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Maybe, at least just invite him and we’ll see what happens,” you say.

***

“She said what?”, Art asks, shooting up from his bed, phone in hand.

“She wanted to know if you were coming over. So are you?”, Patrick asks.

“Wait, for like sexual reasons?” 

“Jesus dude, of course!”

“Yeah, um, I’ll be right there”.

***

Art knocks on the door, hesitantly, and you answer with haste, opening the door in a black silk robe not leaving much to the imagination.

“Holy shit,” Art mutters under his breath, completely focused on your body.

“You coming in or what?”, you ask him, leaning against the frame of your door.

He walks in, slowly moving towards your and Patrick’s bedroom. Patrick is already inside, sitting legs-wide on the edge of the bed. You follow Art into the bedroom closing the door behind you.

“How do you want to start?”, Art asks timidly, looking between both you and Patrick.

Patrick gets up off the bed, walking past Art, winking at him, before approaching you. He slides his arm around your hips and kisses you passionately - sliding his tongue into your mouth as Art watches the both of you dumbfounded.

Your eyes open for a split second, staring straight into Art as he watches, his mouth hanging open. You close your eyes and smirk into Patrick’s kiss.

As you and Patrick stop to breathe, Art moves onto the bed; seeing your chance you move over to Art, leaving your boyfriend by the door.

You place your hand on his shoulders and straddle him, bringing your hands up to his face and kissing him deeply. Your tongues dance together as Art grabs your ass and moves the both of you further into the bed. He grazes the tips of his fingers along your sides before pulling your robe off your body.

The edge of the bed dips as Patrick begins kissing your back and shoulders before unfastening your bra, letting your tits spill out. Art moves his mouth down your neck whilst staring intensely at Patrick.

Your neck moves back onto Patrick's shoulder as Art begins his assault on your nipples, biting and sucking your hardening nubs. As you moaned and gasped in between the two men, they got closer and closer as their mouths explored your body. Their mouths soon met as you remained on top of Art. The sound of their lips smacking enveloped your ears as both pairs of hands kept groping your body.

“Who do you want to fuck first?”, Patrick whispers in your ear.

“I want to fuck Art.”, you say, feeling Art’s dick getting steadily harder underneath you.

You palm him through his pants before pulling them and his boxers down, revealing his thick cock, dripping with pre-cum, waiting for you to fuck him. You pull his shirt over his head before sloppily kissing him once more.

"Fuck, baby, please." Art moans, begging for your pussy.

You slowly sink onto his dick, feeling him fill you up to the brink. His hands immediately find your hips, keeping him grounded. You slowly begin to move, feeling his dick move in and out.

Patrick watches Art’s dick move in and out of you, mesmerised by the scene in front of him. He watches Art’s head fall back, eyes clenched shut with pleasure. You feel Patrick’s dick get harder by the second against your ass. Patrick moves your mouth to his, his hands moving to cup your tits. 

Your hand moves down Patrick's torso, soon brushing over his dick which he has now released from the confines of his pants. Both his and Art’s breathy moans fill the room as your screams get louder. Your fingers make your way down to your clit, adding to the pleasure of Art’s dick hitting all the right spots inside of you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, you moan as your hips and hand move fasting trying to bring your boys to their release as well.

“Fuck, me too.” Art moans, as his hips buck into you. 

You soon reach your peak, your pleasure overwhelming you feeling Art release his cum inside of you. Patrick cums not long after. His cum decorating your torso. 

All three of you collapse onto the bed, heaving, sweating with all of your limbs interwoven - your mind already drifting to your next sexual adventure with your favourite boys. 

[finelinevogue]

the best thing

summary - you hate harry after that one night together, but when you need someone the most he will always be there

a/n : mentions of sexual assault, quite intense scenes, crying, angst, drunkeness

word count : +3.8k

pairing : ceo!harry x reader

You don’t know how you got here.

One minute you were eating crisps at home and watching reruns of Friends, then the next thing you know you’re at an exclusive event in the centre of London with your best friend; Leia.

Apparently, your best friend is now dating some actor who is in with all the A-list celebrities and so she can get into all these cool events now.

This party was hosted by none other than Harry Styles, billionaire and CEO of StylesTech. He happened to be the one man on Earth who you absolutely despised. Well, maybe he wasn’t the only one.

Harry became a celebrity when he got put on the front cover of GQ’s magazine for sexiest man alive four times. That’s right… four.

Harry was friends with James, your best friends new boyfriend, and had said she could also invite a plus one. The more the merrier was what Leia had said over the phone.

Now you were here.

Some rooftop bar in the heights of London. The lighting was very low, the music was very loud and the room was completely packed.

There was a dance floor where people were grinding more than dancing. There was a bar, which apparently was a free-bar. There was panoramic views of the city and tiny people below, making you feel like a Goddess up here in the clouds.

“We’re going to get drinks, you coming?” Leia asked you, James tugging on her hand to move them through the crowd.

“Yeah.” You nodded and grabbed onto her open hand.

You weaved through the crowds, apologising for people you bumped into.

You felt slightly too single here. Everyone seemed to be clinging onto someone and yet you were clinging on to a couple - third-wheeling to be precise.

When you reached the bar Leia and James ordered together, leaving you wait for another waiter to come to help you.

You waited a few more moments, before someone whistled behind you like they were calling over a dog.

“Oi, Henry. Serve this lady now.”

You turned around with a disgusted look on your face, only to be met with Harry Styles in front of you. He smirked at you when he noticed your facial expression.

You scoffed and turned back to Henry. “Don’t worry yourself about me. You can finish whatever job you were doing, hun.” You smiled at the young boy, who looked terrified of his boss behind you.

“No, he won’t.” Harry came and stood beside you. “She’ll have a vodka cranberry with ice.”

“She has a fucking name. Prick.” You mumbled the last word under your breath. “Sorry, Henry. I’ll actually have a Long Island Ice Tea, please. Thank you.”

Henry was off, probably to get away from Harry and make your drink.

“Sure your tolerance can handle a Long Island?” Harry laughed beside you.

“Don’t act like you know me, Harry.” You sneered his name.

“Oh, but I do know you. Don’t I? Know you very, very, well.”

You huffed, trying to not let his words effect you.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Specifically, the night he was talking about. It had been one night back when you were working in a rival tech company. You had been issued to attend a conference weekend, there had been limited numbers of rooms and Harry - the gentleman at the time - had offered you a space in his room.

That night you had too many vodka cranberries and ended up sleeping with Harry that night - although not much literal sleeping actually happened.

The point of hatred for Harry occurred when he left in the morning after you’d confessed that you could see yourself liking him. You’d offered yourself to him for a date together and all he said was; ‘I don’t do seconds.’

Hence, the birth of the hatred for GQs sexiest man alive x4.

“That was one night, years ago. Wasn’t anything to remember.” You sneered.

You lied. It was actually one of the best nights of your life and no one has been as good since.

“Except it was. You didn’t scream that much because you were hating it.” Harry sipped on his glass of whiskey.

“You’re a fucking pig.” You grabbed your drink that Henry had given to you now. “Stay away from me, Harry.”

“Then why did you come to my party?”

“I’m here because of Leia, not you.”

You scoffed and walked off, leaving Harry leaning against the bar in his gorgeous suit to stare at you as you walked away.

The little black dress and heels would do wonders for the power walk away from him. He could see what he has been missing.

You saw Leia and James standing at a table and went over to join them.

“Hey.” You said on approach.

“Hey babes.” Leia smiled as James wrapped his arm around Leia’s waist.

“Cosmo?” You asked, pointing to Leia’s drink.

“You know it. And what the fuck did you get?”

“Long Island.”

“Do you even like them?” Leia laughed.

“No.”

“Then why—”

To prove a point. “Dunno.” You shrugged, taking a sip and feeling sick already from how disgusting the drink was.

“Oh hey man.” James unwrapped his arm around Leia to shake hands with someone. Unfortunately for you, it happened to be the one man you were trying to stay away from.

“Hey. How are you?” Harry asked as they bro hugged.

“Good, good yeah. This is my girlfriend, Leia.” James introduced her.

Leia smiled politely, shaking his hand, and you suddenly wished you’d told her that the story behind the ‘One-Night-Stand’ guy had been this guy. “Hello. Great party.”

“Thanks.”

“And this is Y/N, Leia’s best friend.” James introduced you, not realising that you didn’t need an introduction.

Harry stuck his hand out for you. If you didn’t shake it someone would know something is wrong, so you could your hand in Harry’s and tried to ignore the soft skin against yours. Instead, you tightly squeezed as if you were trying to strangle his hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

You just tightly smiled, not feeling like returning the sentiment.

“Have we met before? You look very… familiar.” Harry had the cheek to say to you. He was an evil man.

“No. You don’t really have a face that I’d remember.” You pulled your hand away from him in disgust.

“Oh really? I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

“It’s not.” You smiled, returning to your drink and trying not to gag with how awful it tasted.

“Uh, so, what are you drinking Harry?” Leia asked, clearly sensing some tension between you.

“Vodka cranberry.”

“Ah no way! That’s our Y/Ns favourite drink.” Leia smiled genuinely.

“How coincidental.” Harry faked a shocked face.

“Yeah. Truly.” You rolled your eyes.

“You two must be soulmates or something.”

“That would require two people going on an actual date.” You stabbed into the conversation.

“I guess..” Leia looked awkward now.

“Your capable of going on a date, aren’t you Harry?” You innocently questioned, turning to face him.

Harry’s nostrils flared and it looked like he was biting back from saying something brass. Instead of speaking, he shot back a good half of his drink.

“Lovely speaking to you, Leia. James, we’ll catch up in a bit.” Harry nodded his head to them both. You didn’t miss how he didn’t acknowledge you as he left the table in a hurry.

You breathed a sigh of relief after he’d gone.

“What the fuck was that about?” Leia asked you immediately.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“You and Harry. The sexual tension was insane!”

James nodded his head in agreement.

“Don’t be silly.”

“Y/N… C’mon. I’ve seen a penis and a vagina have less sexual tension than you and Harry. Get a fucking room next time.” Leia fanned herself.

“I give up.” You shook your head and downed the rest of your disgusting drink.

“Where are you going?” James asked.

“To find a fourth wheel for me.”

•••••

Twelves minutes later and you’d managed to find someone to spend the rest of your night with.

His name was Jordan and he was very good company. Attractive company too.

You two were cornered away in the back of the room in a circular booth. A tray of shots lay empty in front of you and another tray contained full ones.

You were playing a drinking game to get to know each other and now you were absolutely spinning. Your head had taken a hit after the fifth shot and now you were nine deep and couldn’t stop yourself.

“M-my turn.” You laughed as you hiccuped.

“Okay.”

Jordan sat close to you, his arm wrapped around the back of the booth where you were sat. His eyes were deep brown and his hair was light blonde. He looked the complete opposite of Harry, which maybe was subconsciously a choice.

“Favourite sex position?” You giggled immaturely.

“Hmm. Doggy. I actually hate seeing a girls face when we’re fucking.” He replied and you had to take a shot because he answered honestly.

That should’ve been your first red flag about Jordan.

You just laughed instead.

“My turn. Have you ever masturbated?”

“Alllll the time. No guy does it for me anymore.” You laughed sadly.

Jordan took his shot and then moved in closer towards you. You tilted your head so he could speak into your ear.

“I could fix that problem for you.”

Your eyes bugged at his forwardness.

“No thanks.” You shook your head and laughed to try and keep it civil.

“Oh c’mon. You’ve been flirting with me all night and you know it.” His hand dropped onto your shoulders and pulled himself closer. His other hand dropped onto your bare thigh and started rubbing up and down on your soft skin.

“No I haven’t!” You laughed the situation off.

“You have. And I bet you’re all excited ‘cause of it.”

He started moving his hand further up your leg. Due to your toxic alcohol intake your reaction times were a little slower, but when his hand had made it underneath your dress-skirt you gasped and tried to tug his hand away.

“No. Please stop.” You said softly, whining as he tried to push his hand higher.

His face came closer again and he started to kiss your cheek. You tried to move your face away but his other hand was there to trap you and keep you close.

You started to worry because of how dark it was and how hidden away you were. Everyone was busy dancing and drinking away and none the wiser about the situation you were in.

“Give in, you tease.” His hot breath felt disgusting against your skin.

“I said no. Please.”

You struggled to push him off. Both your hands were focusing on his hand on your leg that you couldn’t do much to get his face away from yours.

“You’ve been teasing me all night and now we get to play.” He laughed.

Tears formed in your eyes as you kept pushing and pushing and pushing. You kept saying no over and over again, but Jordan was just not listening.

He felt disgusting on you and it made you feel just as disgusting.

Jordan just kept laughing whilst you were crying.

An employee caught your eye - in fact, it was Henry. You thought he might’ve come over to you and help, since he could clearly see you crying and struggling with Jordan on you, but instead he turned and walked away.

You sobbed then, thinking that might’ve been your only chance to get help and he just left.

You wondered whether it was because Harry was a dick to him.

You closed your eyes and tried to think of happy thoughts as Jordan started attacking your neck.

You tried to think of Harry. It wasn’t hard.

He was constantly on your mind.

“You taste so good. Stop denying me all of you.” Jordan bit your neck too harshly to be pleasurable.

“Jordan, no!” You shoved with all your strength and managed to completely get him off. You were pissed now. Your mascara may have run, your eyes red and blotchy, your breath shaky, but that was all he was getting from you.

“No?” Jordan scoffed. “NO?”

Jordan grabbed your cheeks and pulled you towards him.

“Ow.” You mumbled through his harsh grip.

“Listen here you little bi—”

“The fuck is going on here?”

Jordan dropped your face and straightened his jacket, whilst you turned your head to find who you already knew was there; Harry.

His voice had sent a wave of calmness through your body the second he started speaking. Now he was standing there with a deathly look on his face you couldn’t help but feel relief.

And you noticed Henry standing behind him, looking just as angry.

“Hi boss. Just having fun.” Jordan responded.

Harry looked between Jordan and you. Jordan looked dazed and content, whilst you looked broken and scared.

“Are you okay?” Harry looked intensely at you.

“She’s fi—”

“I wasn’t fucking speaking to you, was I?” Harry rhetorically asked. “Y/N, come here, love.”

Harry held out his hand, palm facing up.

You made no hesitation as you weakly moved away from Jordan and towards Harry.

Harry helped you stand up and kept a tight hold on your hand. It grounded you, his touch.

“Can I touch you? Just on your face?” Harry asked you softly and you nodded.

Harry cautiously held your chin and moved your head to the side, noticing the red mark and blood on your neck. He hadn’t taken note of your legs yet, but he would come to find red marks on them too.

Your teary eyes were wiped by Harry’s careful thumb. You looked down at his shoes the entire time, too afraid to look at him. You knew you’d crumble if you did.

“Are you okay?” He asked you again.

“No.” You said softly, shaking your head. “I-I was really scared, Harry.” Your voice broke and Harry immediately cupped the back of your head and brought you into his chest. You collapsed there and Harry’s hands held you up strong.

“You’re okay now. I’m here, you’re okay. I’ve got you.” Harry said, whilst nodding his head discreetly to the two security men.

They came over within seconds and yanked Jordan out of the booth. His protests were no match for the security guys. As he was being escorted out, Harry stopped him to say “See you in court.”

After Harry had thanked Henry with a nod and smile, he walked the small distance over to the same booth and sat down on the edge of it, pulling you to sit on his lap.

Your body was still wracking with sobs, but only because the adrenaline of the situation had been too much for you.

Now you knew you were safe, it was too much.

Harry made you feel safe.

He rocked you as he held you. It was too loud to have a quiet, serious, conversation, but his actions spoke loud anyways. I’m here. You’re safe. It’s okay now.

You heard Harry shout to someone for a glass of cold water, which was brought back to you within a minute.

"Here, sunshine, drink this." Harry spoke closely to you so you could hear.

He held the glass up to your lips and tipped it back slowly for you. Your hands were too shaky to hold onto it yourself, but you managed to drink carefully with the help of Harry.

He even knew when you'd had enough.

Harry's hand cupped the side of your head and brought you to rest back onto his chest. His head stayed rested on top of yours and you both just sat like that for ten minutes or so. It was hard to know exactly how long.

You just sat and thought about everything that had happened tonight and everything that could have happened. Mixed with that, your brain was constantly thinking about Harry and how much, no matter how hard you try otherwise, you like him.

Your heart feels constantly pulled towards him. He's like a beacon in the middle of a storm, safely guiding you towards home.

Just as those thoughts were circling your mind, Harry made his move.

He told you he was going to stand up, so you let yourself slide off his legs onto your own shaky ones. You thought he might be leaving you to go back and mingle with the other guests, so you stood shy to the side.

Harry leaned over to Henry and whispered something in his ear to which Henry nodded.

Before you could make plans as to what you were going to do now, Harry held out his hand to you again - giving you a choice to take it or not. Of course, you took it.

He squeezed your hand in reassurance and then lead you off and out of the room.

You two made no conversation as you wandered out of the noisy room and into a quiet staircase. Harry started walking up the stairs, so you followed him.

It was another two minutes before you made it to the top of the stairs and through a door that led to a rooftop. It was only very small. It overlooked the city skyline, with hundreds of twinkling lights casting shadows over the small space.

There were twinkling fairy lights too, up here. They were knotted around various creeping wall plants like ivy. In the corner of the square space there was a big L-shaped sofa with plenty of cushions and throws.

Harry turned back to smile at you, leading you to the sofa.

He sat down and let go of your hand, allowing you to choose where to sit.

You took one last glance at the skyline and up to the moon, before deciding.

"Wanna sit next to you." You said in a small voice.

"Okay." Harry smiled perfectly.

He shuffled back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa, sitting up and letting his legs stretch out on the chair in front of him. He patted his lap next with a smile. You shuffled over to him and sat on his lap, perpendicular to the way he was sitting so your legs stretched out along the other length of the chair.

"Comfortable?" He asked.

"Mhm."

Harry wasn't too sure though, and next thing you knew he was gathering a couple of blankets to throw over your legs and shoulders.

"Better. Thank you." You nodded.

"You're welcome."

"It's beautiful up here."

"I guess it is."

"Is it all yours?" You questioned.

"What? Everything up here?"

You nodded. Harry then took your hands in his and started to play with the few rings you had on.

"No. Not everything is mine."

You looked up at him and into his eyes, noticing he was looking straight back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you thought about the implications to his words. You couldn't help but let a blush and smile take over your face. If he was implying what you thought he was then maybe you were in with a chance of Harry liking you back.

"What do you want to have? You're a billionaire. You could have anything you want." You asked, curiously.

"No even a billionaire can buy everything." He smiled sadly.

"Well, what do you wish you could buy even though you can't?"

Harry chuckled under his breath, "Redemption. A second chance. Love."

You tilted your head back against the sofa, your head feeling less and less drunk by the minute. You sighed, looking at the beautiful moon and wondering how lonely she must be up there.

Loneliness is something you've suffered with for far too long.

You wanted to find that connection with that someone who makes you feel wanted, feel loved and feel chosen. You craved it.

You chuckled.

"What?" Harry asked, softly caressing over the back of your hand.

"It's just funny, is all."

"What is?"

"Us, wanting the same thing. Wonder if we want it from the same people." You tilted your head to the side to face Harry, watching him lick his lips as he looked at yours not-so-subtly.

"You already know we do." Harry said quietly, leaning in towards you.

Your breath hitched as he got closer, your heart beating faster than your brain was processing the motions. You knew you wanted to kiss Harry as badly as he wanted to kiss you, but not like this. Not yet, at least.

"Harry, wait..." You said, watching him stop immediately.

"Fuck. Shitting, fuck. Sorry, Y/N. That was completely inappropriate of me. I mean.. After... Tonight and us... and...."

Harry shot back to his original position and ran a stressed hand over his face as he tried to work through his thoughts.

You smiled as you watched him panic, before taking his stressed hands in yours and kissing the back of it softly - right over that small triage of freckles you knew sat pretty there.

"Hey. It's okay." You reassured him. "I'm not stopping you because of what happened this evening. I'm stopping you because I feel I deserve to know why I wasn't enough the first time around."

This was you standing up for yourself.

"Weren't enou-.. Y/N, love. God, I was such a dick. I never, ever, left you because I thought you weren't enough. I left because I didn't think I was. I was a nobody back then. I looked at you and saw someone who could literally be the epitome of sunshine, and then I looked at me and all I saw was a dark cloud that would cover you. I never thought someone as bright, as happy and as golden as you should ever have to be with someone like me. Hell, it's still a thought that niggles away at the back of my mind. But, I've learnt that I can't let those thoughts win. I owe it you myself, and definitely to you, to at least try."

"Well that was as good as apologies get." You sniffled, trying to hold back the happy tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, for our wasted years. I... I just wasn't ready for us back then and I know I was a prick about it."

"You were. A right big prick."

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and you had to fake punch him for it.

"I'm sorry." He said honestly. "And I'm sorry for tonight too."

"That wasn't your fault, okay? I promise." You squeezed his hand.

"Okay. I'm still suing that motherfucker though."

"You're a billionaire already!"

"So? I was going to donate the money to a sexual assault charity or something." He shrugged his shoulders like what he just said was no big deal - like he hadn't just shown his truest heart.

"You're a good person, Harry, who deserves good things." You moved closer to him.

"I am?"

"Mhm."

"Do these 'good things' include you?"

"I don't know. Do you think I'm a good thing?" You teased him.

Harry leaned in closer. "No. I think you're the best."

[poeticpascal]

I've Got You (Dbf!Joel Miller x Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a date set up by your father goes wrong, your secret boyfriend and Dad's best friend races to protect you.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, attempted sexual assault, abusive language, reader's date is a tory prick, soft!dom!Joel, blowjob, unprotected sex, use of pet names.

A/n: So... this is my first time writing smut. I am super proud of this one, so please let me know what you think! Requests are open so for more Joel/Pedro action, you know where to find me x

Dating your Dad’s best friend is hard. And stupid. Really, you have no clue why either of you thought this'd be a good idea. But you were so far down this path now, so entangled in late night meet-ups and whispered phone calls and unspoken thoughts that sounded a lot like ‘I love you’, that it was too late to turn around and steer the sinking ship of this utter mess back to shore.

More than anything, you hate not having any normalcy with him. You can’t fall straight into his arms after a hard day. You can’t cuddle into his side with a bowl of popcorn watching crappy weeknight telly. You can’t go to the store together, holding hands and making him laugh as you insist on buying a flavour of ice cream that you know he’d love. And it sucks.

Because everyone said Joel would never be one to settle down. He’s too wild, too rough to fit into a polished little box like that. And you’d thought the same. Until you fucked him, then fucked him again, and kept going back until you could see the pain in his eyes each time you left. You could practically feel the heaviness settle in his stomach as you left his bed to sneak back home. It hurts him as much as it does you, and if you weren’t so incredibly in love with him, that would’ve been enough to make you run.

Despite how long you’d kept this going now, a good 6 months at least, it never got any easier. Especially when your Dad started talking about dating. He was protective, but more than anything he wanted to see you happy. So when you suddenly became distant, hiding in your room more often and going out on dates much less, he was concerned. Nowhere near as concerned as he’d be if he found out why you were acting that way, you thought, but concerned all the same.

So when he came home one day, beaming and shouting for you to come downstairs, you thought nothing of it. When he explained there was a new apprentice at his work that he thinks you’d like, you weren’t surprised. And when he told you he’d set up a blind date with said boy, you felt sick.

Because you really couldn’t get out of it. You tried.

“Dad, I just don’t feel like dating right now.”

“Oh come on, you used to have a new date every few weeks. I’m just worried about you. Matthew's really nice, and he likes the same shitty music you do-”

“It’s good music.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I just…” he paused, his worry painted on his face, and there's no way you could’ve said no to him. “Honey, I want you to be happy. I don’t know what’s gotten into you recently” - your best friend, you thought - “but I just need to know you’re okay. So give this a go, for me, alright? And if you have an awful time, that’s it, I’ll never set you up again.”

You sighed. He was right; it’s just one night, one date. One box you have to tick to relieve the pressure that comes from having an affair with your next door neighbour, the one more than twice your age, the one your Dad would call a brother. And besides, your Dad would be working an overnight job, so you’d be spending the night at Joel’s anyway. Something to look forward to.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll go. For you.”

He pulled you in for a hug, tight, and you hugged him right back because you really do hate having to keep this from him. He pulled away, smiling - “great! It’s tonight at 7. He’ll pick you up.”

“You already arranged it?!” You near enough shrieked, but he’d already sauntered off to the kitchen, giggling as he went. 

Typical.

So that’s how you ended up here, at 6:55pm, waiting by the front door for Marcus - or Michael, or something like that - to pick you up. Your phone buzzes, Joel’s name flashing on the screen, that alone making you feel that much calmer.

You’d text him as soon as you talked to your Dad, letting him know about the date. He understood, and you loved that about him; he was mature, compassionate, and he was more than secure in the fact that no matter who you talked to, who flirted with you on nights out, who you were set up with… you’d always come back to him. 

Don’t worry about tonight, baby. It’ll go quickly. I’ll leave the door unlocked for when you get back. Text me if you need picking up. J x

You smile at his initial at the end - it’s such a Dad thing to do, but it makes you happy, especially when he adds a little kiss. He only does that for you.

The sudden sound of a car door closing snaps you out of your thoughts, Joel’s text left on read as what you assume to be your date heads up the driveway. You take a deep, nervous breath, smoothing out your dress and heading to the door just in time for his knock.

You open the door, take a good look at your date, and he’s… okay. Not unattractive, per se. Though you’d come to accept a little while ago that being with Joel had soured your perception of pretty much every other guy. His dusty blonde hair is slicked back with gel, his teeth are way too white, and he’s dripped in designer clothing that just screams, “I have a trust fund.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Matthew.” Right. Matthew. “You must be (Y/N).” He leans in to peck your cheek, and all you can think about is how smooth his skin is as it grazes yours. Nothing like Joel’s coarse stubble that you love so much - especially when it leaves red patches on your cheeks, and your neck, and if you’re really lucky -

Matthew leans back a little, confused, and you’re brought out of your daydream. “Sorry, yeah, that’s me. (Y/N).” 

Well, that was awkward.

You just need to get through these next few hours, you think to yourself, smiling at the boy and letting him lead you out of the house and into his car. You can’t help but glance towards Joel’s place across the street; it looks quiet tonight, though his truck is in the driveway, and as soon as you look up you’re sure you catch the living room blinds suddenly draw shut. You smirk.

──────

The date was going… okay. About as okay as a date you don’t want to be on, with someone you have no interest in, and another man constantly on your mind could go. You could see why your Dad liked him; smart enough, well-polished. His father was a partner in the company, you learned - oh, he’s a ‘Daddy’s credit card’ type you’d thought - and by all intents and purposes he was the sort of guy any parent would hope to see their daughter end up with.

It’s never that easy though, is it?

Because he isn’t rough around the edges like Joel. He doesn’t have his stature, or carry himself with the same brute certitude. You can’t imagine him fucking you up against the wall, working himself up until he’s almost animalistic, somehow using you and worshipping you at the same time. And you can’t see him wrapping you up so tightly afterwards, holding you close and whispering how good you were for me, how proud of you I am.

No, only Joel could do that, and that’s how you like it.

The bill comes, Matthew suggests you split it. You don’t mind. He takes out his credit card, flashing it in front of you. “This is my Dad’s. I can use it as much as I want.” He’s smirking like he’s got something to be proud of, and you really had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead you just smile, before paying your share and making small talk as you head out the door and towards his car.

“So, I thought we could head back to my place.”

You freeze. Yeah, no, not gonna happen. He’s got this shit-eating grin on his face, one you knew all too well from past college boyfriends - that’s a boy who thinks he’s getting some tonight. You shudder, wrapping your arms around your waist and trying to sound sincere as you reply, “this has been lovely, but I’ve got an appointment early in the morning” - not really a lie, if staying in bed with a man over twice your age getting fucked or cuddled or both counts as an appointment - “so I’d rather just head home.”

You reach for the passenger side door, but it’s locked. You try again, pulling on the handle, but it doesn’t budge. You realise then that he’s stepped closer, too close, crowding your vision as you turn to face him while keeping one hand on the door’s handle. He leans an arm against the roof of the car, right beside your head, staring you down. 

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). I’ve got the house to myself tonight, it’ll just be us. I know that’s what you want, don’t be shy.”

His free hand pinches your chin, his touch aggressive where Joel’s is rough but careful, and he tries to close the already too-small gap between you.

You dodge him quickly, slipping out from under his arm and backing up, away from the car, away from him. Matthew just watches you, incredulous, before laughing to himself and taking a step forward. “Look, baby, I know you want this. What is it, are you scared your daddy’s gonna find out?”

“What? No, I-” you splutter, but he interrupts.

“Get in the car, (Y/N). You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out. I can see the way you look at me, I bet you’re dying to fu-”

A heavy sickness has flooded your stomach, your nerves shot from the sudden escalation of what was supposed to be a quiet, albeit tedious, night. But his words hit you, and before you can even think, you’re shouting back at him. 

“You seriously think I want to fuck you? You can’t even pay your half of the bill with your own money. Fuck that. I’ll make my own way home.”

The smug look on his face is quickly washed away with anger, and you continue to slowly step backwards as Matthew follows you. A lick of fear sets in now as the pale streetlights cast shadows on his darkened expression, and you scold yourself for opening your mouth.

“The fuck did you just say to me? Do you know who my Dad is?” - this really isn’t a good time to roll your eyes - “You think you’re too good for me, you bitch? I’ll show you.”

He stalks you, and your eyes frantically dart back to the restaurant you’d just left, though you’d backtracked far enough to be almost at the door again.

People are dining and laughing, some just sitting and watching the world go by. You’re well within their view, and you turn back to see that Matthew’s gaze has followed your own and he’s connected the dots. He can’t do anything in front of them. He locks eyes with you again, scoffing, heading back to his car and loudly shouting something that sounded a lot like “fuckin’ bitch.” Nice.

He drives away; you’re safe, out of the situation, and as the relief floods you the adrenaline does too and tears prick at your eyes. You sit on a small bench just outside the restaurant, dotted with shrubbery and stains from spilt drinks you assume, and take out your phone.

Your last chat with Joel is already open, and you breathe slowly in an attempt to still your shaking hands as you type quickly,

Please come and get me. He was trying to get me to go back with him. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’s gone now but I have no ride home.

The text is marked as ‘read’ almost as soon as you send it, though you receive no reply. You didn’t expect to; Joel wasn’t much of a texter. Like, at all. He was slowly getting used to it, what with it being one of the only ways you could really talk when slipping over to his place was too risky. 

In this particular instance, you already knew he’d have read the text, dropped his phone without a second thought and hurried to his truck while muttering to himself what he’s gonna do to the kid, how he won’t see what’s comin’ to him.

Just how badly Joel might react worries you. He’s protective, incredibly so when it comes to you, and that combined with his white hot temper was surely a recipe for some sort of disaster.

Secretly, though, you loved it. And so as you sat on that little bench, frosty air nipping at your skin, you couldn’t help but revel in the warmth that pooled in your core at the thought of what sort of beast Joel would become tonight.

──────

It only takes him around 10 minutes to reach you, and you know for a fact he must’ve ran a red light or two because normally it’s a 20 minute drive at least into town. You stand, walking over to his truck, but before you can hop in he’s already storming out and wrapping you up in his arms, shielding you, eyes darting across the street.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Joel, I-”

“(Y/N) where the fuck is he? I’m gonna kill that little bastard. Fucking-”

His body is tense, far more so than usual, and anger pours from him in buckets. You pull away to look up at him, his eyes still searching for the boy long gone, and you sigh. “He’s gone, Joel. He left.”

He finally meets your eyes, a cold frown etched on his face, and he somehow looks even angrier than usual. “Did he touch you?” His hands roam your body, searching for you didn’t know what, but you let him do whatever he needed to relax. To know you were safe.

“No, Joely, he didn’t. I’m fine, I promise.”

It usually softens him right up, your little nickname for him. Joely. The first few times you used it, he’d just scoff or roll his eyes, but the small smirk that crept onto his face each time let you know he loved it. Quite how much he loved it was a different story; you hadn’t got together then, though the both of you wanted it, and as your relationship blossomed you became the only one he ever let call him anything other than Joel.

It doesn’t work this time, though, and he remains stern, finally letting you go and searching your eyes for even a hint of anxiety or fear. “What happened?”

“He tried it on, I said no. He tried again, I backed up and made sure there were people watching,” you nod towards the restaurant, still bustling with life. “And he left.”

Joel nods. “You tell him to fuck off?”

“‘Course i did.” 

It seems as if he finally lets up then, giving you a proper hug, one arm around your neck and the other around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hard, and the tension leaves him. “That’s my girl.”

You squeeze him tight, burrowing into his shirt and inhaling the scent of him that you loved so much. With one arm around your shoulders, he guides you back to his truck, opening the door for you and helping you. He does it everytime, but it still makes you blush, and you’re sure his lips smirk slightly as your cheeks turn red. Worth it.

The ride back to home is quiet, only the sound of his radio and passing traffic echoing between you. He keeps a hand on your knee, always protective, and every now and then you rub your palm over it to let him know you appreciate it. To say thank you.

Joel was never good with words, and you’d learned over the last few months just how much he relies on touch to express himself. To show love. You’d picked up on his habits, his little signs, his way of telling you his deepest thoughts without having to speak a word.

And when you reciprocated, when you wrapped your hand around his, or brushed his side at the neighbours’ BBQ, or kissed his shoulder in the kitchen, you knew just what it meant to him.

Your driveway is empty as Joel turns onto your street - your Dad must have set off for work already. You sigh in relief; you didn’t have the energy to explain all this to him, and certainly not the energy to try and sneak into Joel’s without him seeing.

Joel steps out first, taking a quick look around to make sure no nosey neighbours were watching, a precaution you were both used to by now. He grabs the door for you again, holding your hand and helping you out, holding you close to his side as he unlocks the door and you both slip inside.

“What do you want to drink?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He pauses, looking at you, concerned. ”No. You need somethin’ to drink. You need to- to lie down, or somethin’.”

You follow him into the kitchen as he stalks past you, not giving you time to answer and filling a glass with water and ice. “Drink,” he hands it to you.

You take it, thanking him and sipping as he watches. It’s sweet; he cares about you, so much, and when he looks at you like this you can’t help but feel butterflies swirl in your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s almost a whisper, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard if it weren’t so still already in his house.

“Hm?” You look at him, confused.

“I’m sorry he did that to you. S’not - s’not right. I mean, shit, what if you couldn’t get away?” He was spiralling.

“Hey, hey. Joel, it’s okay. I’m okay.” You set down the glass and take him in your arms. He calms, instantly, holding you tightly against him and cupping the back of your head with his hand.

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“I know.”

He sighs. “I just wanna protect you, honey.”

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you, framing your face with his hands and running his thumbs along the edge of your cheekbones.  You lean in, letting his lips capture yours in that sweet but desperate way that only Joel can, and moan into his mouth. He slips his tongue against yours, letting one arm fall to your waist as his hand lingers around the hem of your jeans.

The kiss becomes desperate and you reach for his belt, your arousal becoming unbearable as the memory of him so full of anger and protectiveness spins in your mind like a carousel. He breaks the kiss and you groan, chasing his swollen lips with yours.

“We don’t have to do this.” His southern drawl is slick with need, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours. The moment is so sweet, so intimate, that any thoughts of what had happened today were long gone and your mind was full with sweepings of him.

“I want to.”

He grunts, pushing himself further into you so his nose brushes yours like a cat. So much so, you almost purr into him, and it makes you giggle. You curse yourself as he pulls back, cocking an eyebrow and giving you that stare you’d come to know all too well; you’re a pain in my ass, it says. But the corners of his lips turn upwards, and you step forward so you’re once again pressed right up against him, pressing gentle kisses to his jaw.

“You’ve had a big shock today, sweetheart,” he sighs.

You know he’s given up. You know he needs this as much as you do. But you humour him, and tip his head down so you can kiss his lips again. 

“So make me forget.”

It snaps something within him, and you shriek as Joel sweeps you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist in instinct and your head burying itself in his neck. He laughs at the sound you make, something you’d always known to be so rare for him, but that he does far more often now he has you. 

He carries you upstairs, gripping your thighs with his large hands, and the way he holds you so easily just turns you on more. He kicks his bedroom door open, all but throwing you on the bed and watching as you bounced softly on the sheets, undoing his belt that was already half-opened by your shaky hands.

“On your back. Lay your head towards me.”

You did as he said immediately, though your movements were slow, languid. He let you take your time; a part of you thinks he likes to watch you move for him, the way you put on a show, keeping your eyes locked on his and your lips slightly parted and puffy from his kiss. 

You lie on your back, your head dangling off the edge, looking up at him upside down. The hard outline of his cock is just centimetres above you, swollen already, and your desperation to taste it must’ve shown on your face because Joel groans out a soft, strangled “fuck.”

“You need this cock, baby? Need your throat fucked?” You just nod rapidly, desperate for him to do something other than just stand there and watch you, your arousal becoming unbearable. Joel seems to break, too, pulling down his jeans and boxers and gripping his hard length in his hands. 

It’s big at the best of times, but from this angle, his balls level with your eyes and his cock the only thing you can see when you look up at him, it’s painful how bad you need him.

You’d only discovered this position recently, on a night you’d spent at his place while your Dad was away with work, not unlike tonight. Joel had been floored, consumed with pleasure as the stretch of your spine made it so easy for him to slide himself through your mouth and down your throat, the muscles tensing around him and drawing his release much sooner than he’d have liked. 

He slides the head of his cock over your lips, painting them in his precum. You whine, lapping at his taste, desperate but you know better than to lift your hands off the bed. No, you give him control, and he lavishes it.

“Open up, babygirl.”

You comply, parting your lips and moaning as Joel pushes inside, giving you no time to breathe. You try to control yourself, inhaling through your nose and letting your muscles relax before he bottoms out, his groin almost entirely covering your face and your throat full of his thickness. 

It’s filthy, degrading, resigns you to nothing but his to fuck and use as he wants. 

You love it.

“Such a good girl, baby. So good for me, ain’t ya?” You can hardly even nod as your tongue flicks along a particularly swollen vein. He begins to move, pulling out almost entirely before slamming his cock back into your mouth. You moan again, and it hurts, in that delectable way that’ll spend the next few days reminding you of this moment.

Joel’s got one hand on the wooden foot of the bed, keeping himself steady. The other finds its way to your neck, and he stalls as he feels his cock beneath your skin, rapidly pushing in and out. He moans your name, his hips rocking into you harder and harder, chasing a release you knew he wouldn’t let himself have just yet. 

You’re completely at his mercy now, too consumed by his scent and his touch to think, and you hardly register him reaching for your hand and taking it in his own. He starts to mumble, and you only catch a few words - “my good girl. My girl. So- so fuckin’ pretty for me.”

He swells, your tongue working faster against him, his hand squeezing yours and his legs faltering when he suddenly pulls out and stands back with a whimper. Your eyes are glazed over, your sore throat misses him, and your pink swollen lips are trying to say something but you’re not sure what. It feels like his name.

“Come on, pretty girl, come here.” He sits beside you on the edge of the bed, wrapping his big arms around your back and guiding you into his lap. 

His fingers dance over your entrance, collecting the slick that soaked your thighs before pushing a single finger inside, revelling in your arousal. He admires you as you squirm, rolling your hips against his hand, desperate for more and moaning against his lips. 

It’s almost embarrassing how easy you unravel for him, and if it weren’t for your utter infatuation for the man, you’d have hidden your pleasure and at least tried to hold onto some sense of dignity. But you were obsessed, addicted to him, and he knew it. Because god, was he addicted to you, too.

He kisses you, letting another finger slip inside and catching your hiss with his mouth. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, opening his eyes to look at you, his cock twitching against your thigh. 

“Tell me what you need, angel.”

“Y- you, Joel. I need you. Please.” You hardly register yourself saying the words, but they do the trick, as Joel removes his fingers and instead lines the tip of his cock with your soaking wet entrance. 

“Please, please, fuck me. Fuck-” 

He snaps his hips upwards, driving his cock into your cunt and you gasp as he stretches you. You grip at his shoulders, sure to leave marks, but you know he loves it. 

He sets the pace, guiding you to bounce on his cock as his hips snap upwards again and again, fucking you so hard you can almost see stars. 

His head is buried in your neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin, and you try to regain some autonomy and roll your hips side to side making him mewl. 

“So - oh, fuck - so good baby, keep doin’ that.” He spurs you on as your breathless moans and the heavy slap of skin on skin fills the room, lewd but addictive.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving as your thighs tremble and you wonder if he’s feeling the burn of his movements. If he does, he doesn’t show it, just ramming into you and moaning your name against your ear. 

His hand falls from your waist and finds its way to your clit, making you gasp as he circles his thumb around the spot. The near pornographic moan that falls from his lips as you roll into his touch is nearly enough to make you cum right there, but you know better than to cum before he tells you to.

Instead he hoists you further up, giving him better control of your hips, and angles his cock so it hits that perfectly raw spot deep inside you that has tears in your eyes.

“I- I’m gonna-” 

“I know, baby. Just hold on for me. I’ve got you.” You cry at his denial, though it’s quickly forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his head still tucked under the crook of your neck, his cock still buried inside you. He resumes his fast pace, reaching even deeper inside you with your legs locked around his waist, and you moan so loudly you worry someone’s going to hear you.

Joel doesn’t seem to care as he pulls back to look at you, marvelling at how utterly fucked-out you look for him. His pace starts to falter, each thrust more desperate than the last, and he frantically pushes his tongue into your mouth as you moan in unison.

“Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock, that’s it.” You release on command, crying out as waves of pleasure spread like fire through your body, and the uncontrollable spasms of your orgasm make Joel groan as he spills inside you, still rocking into you and carrying both of your highs.

He doesn’t let his cock slip out of you as he wraps an arm under your back and rolls onto his side, holding you close as he brushes the matted hair away from your forehead and replaces it with a soft kiss. You hum, snuggling into him and trying not to gasp at the feeling of his cock inside you while you were still so sensitive. He can see you flinch and smiles, though he just wants you to rest for now.

“You okay, babygirl?” You just hum again, but he taps your chin and you look up. 

“Answer me, angel.”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Joel nods, running his hand through your hair and agreeing, “me too.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, almost dozing off as the heat that radiates from him lulls you gently to seep, when he breaks the silence again. “What’s his name?”

“Hm?” You reply, too fucked-out to really understand what he was saying.

“That little asshole. What’s his name?”

He’s looking down at you, brows knitted together, and you just sigh. “It doesn’t matter, Joel. He doesn’t matter. I promise.”

“But-“

You cut him off with a kiss, and the tension that built in his shoulders is quickly dissipated. “No ‘but’s. Get some sleep.”

“Aright,” he resigns. “I love you.”

It slips out, sudden, and he freezes before he realises the joy that’s spread across your face from his words. It’s the first time either of you have said it, and the way your eyes light up are enough to let him die a happy man. You nuzzle his nose, your hand gently lay on his chest, your eyes falling shut again. “I love you too, Joel.” He wraps you up tighter, grinning, happy. In love.. “And no asking my Dad, either.”

He scoffs, “I wasn’t going to!” You just cock a brow, eyes still shut, and though you can’t see him you know he’s rolling his eyes. “Let me get you cleaned up, sweetheart.” 

He pulls out of you slowly, making you wince at the loss, and sits up on the bed. When you can still feel his weight beside you, you crack an eye open to see him quickly typing something on his phone, and you frown. “Joel?”

He startles and drops his phone, turning to you and kissing the top of your head. “Sorry, baby, I’m going - just gimme a sec to get you a warm cloth.”

As he leaves for the bathroom you snatch his phone, already knowing what he’d done. Your Dad’s name is at the top of the screen, the chat from just moments ago still open:

What’s the name of that kid (Y/N) went out with?

Matthew Wicks, he’s the new apprentice at work. Why?

Just wondered.

You’re weird, man.

Joel creeps out of the bathroom, frozen as he sees you lock his phone. He offers a small, guilty smile, quickly wiped away as you grab his pillow and playfully launch it at his chest. 

“JOEL!”

──────

Thank you so much for reading! As ever, comments and weblogs are so appreciated, and please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics!

[ciy0]

☆*:.｡.ONLY YOU.｡.:*☆

Summary - The one where Mingyu is inlove with his sweet friend y/n and copes by using other women to fill the you shaped hole in his heart.

Word Count - 1.4k

Content Warning - 18+ Sexual Content and Vulgar Language, Fem!Reader, Implied College Au, One Siding Pining[or is it], Twist at the End, Rosé and Wonwoo are in here, Mingyu’s Morals are Questionable, So is the Reader’s, Mingyu was A Hoe, Rough Sex, Jacking off, Obsessive!Mingyu, Argument & Breakup

a/n - i have to give props to @bvbysita because their posts have been keeping me up at night oml i can’t stop thinking about them, it definitely was in mind while i wrote this ahh (￣∇￣) i am a simple woman and i must give credit for the inspiration ☆彡

☆*:.｡.o .｡.:*☆

“You know you’re so obvious?” Wonwoo asked suddenly as he passed by Mingyu in their shared kitchen.

Mingyu arched a brow, “Hello to you too, about what hyung?,” He asked while offering a spoon to him to taste the Alfredo mixture he was currently working on.

“First I thought it was just a coincidence that they had the same eyes,” Wonwoo started after trying the concoction, “needs more salt— then another had the same lips, the next having the same nose...”

“Hyung what are you going on about?,” Mingyu brows furrowing in confusion as he reached for the seasoning cabinet.

“But it really clicked when you introduced me to your current girlfriend Rosé,” Wonwoo finalized, “She has the same exact beauty mark on her face… the same one Y/n has.”

There was a beat of silence, Mingyu pausing slightly before actually opening the cabinet, “We’re just good friends Hyung, Y/n’s not the only one allowed to have certain features you know… it’s just a coincidence-“

“Was it a coincidence when I heard you moan her name last night too?”

“ - And what are you doing, spying on me now?” Mingyu shot back, lisp slightly appearing. He chose to focus his sight back on the pasta instead of giving into his hyungs ruthless prying. His breath coming a bit heavier at being put on the spot.

Wonwoo decided to calm down on his assault seeing the agitation in the younger one’s shoulders, “…Does she know?”

Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, “She’s fucking oblivious…”

You that is. The girl of his dreams who never once looked his way. Side stepping all his advances, treating him like you treated everyone else. What was he to do? Maybe it was childish how he subconsciously searched for any glimpse of you in all the girls who approached him. Running through women like a marathon because none of them were the original. The original didn’t want him how he wanted her. So weak as the man he is he let counterfeits fill the place reserved for you.

It was wrong though, he knew his exes and current girlfriend didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve to be compared, didn’t deserve to have their faces coldly smushed in his pillows so he could imagine the curvature of their backs to be yours instead. Large hand muffling their moans in slight frustration because he knew you wouldn’t sound like that. Knew you’d sound prettier—lovelier. Jacking off pathetically in his hand after curtly sending them home, free hand scrolling desperately through innocent pics of you he cropped from group photos kept tucked away in his phone. It’s what he did last night after Rosé [begrudgingly] left.

He blatantly saw the hesitancy in her movements as she gathered her things, probably hoping he’d finally ask her stay the night only to be met with a quick “night babe” and a swift kiss to the cheek. He knew he should’ve tried harder — harder to get over you. Harder to invest himself more in his relationships instead of using them for a short moment of companionship but it became so involuntary. And he’d see the heartbreak in their eyes when they’d ultimately meet you. Seeing the adoring side of himself that they desperately wanted for themselves all spent on you. Running back and forth on your beck and call, dropping everything to come to your aid like a loyal puppy. Usually shortly after that display his exes would give him an ultimatum and seeing as they’re no longer together his answer came too easy.

“You know Rosé is in love with you,” Wonwoo reminded as he made his way to their living room with a sigh. “It’s better to cut it off now before things get messy.”

Mingyu chose not to reply because he fucking knew that already. Out of all his exes she was the closest he got to moving on. He knew how much she loved him, it was clear with how she looked at him and she was great, got along with his friends well, kind to his family, easy on the eyes… but you—you were amazing, his friends adored you, his family treated you like their own, you were the most beautiful woman he’d even seen and— Fuck just like that he compared you guys again.

He finished up the pasta, lost in his thoughts before serving Wonwoo his plate and joining him in the living room. They fell into a relaxed conversation on something different than the charged one from before. Mid-sentence he felt his phone ding in his sweatpants pocket. It was from you. You never texted him first like this and he couldn’t stop the flip his heart did. He excused himself to head to his bed room, clicking facetime as he climbed into his bed.

“Ya,” Was the first thing he heard once you accepted, “Don’t you know how to text sir?” You pouted playfully, “You always facetime me so abruptly, what if i looked a mess?! Just text like a normal person. ”

He couldn’t help but longingly smile at your nagging. No, he wanted any excuse to see your pretty face. You? Look like a mess? Never. Not possible. “It’s easier to just talk plus i missed you cutie” He flashed his canines as he threw an arm behind his head.

You rolled your eyes, “ You saw me at Cheol’s frat party literally the other day but anyways I have a question,” now back on topic your countenance dimmed a bit, “I-Is everything okay with you and Rosé?”

He instantly sat up at the sudden change in mood and inquiry. “Hey hey look at me, what’s wrong?” His thumb brushed against the screen, “We’re fine, why did you hear anything? Y/n look at me”

You bit your lip unsurely, “She messaged me… she told me to stay away? She blamed me for the issues in your relationship?” Your slightly damp lash line at the supposed claim caused his chest to squeeze painfully. “I-I thought you both were doing well, i’m so confused Gyu—“

Mingyu’s eye involuntarily twitched at this nugget of information. But in the moment he chose consoling you over confronting Rosé. He cooed softly at you, calming your worries, “Shhh don’t worry about that, I’ll talk to her but i need you to smile for me first baby— need to know you’re okay. Don’t cry.”

You gave him a wobbly smile, nodding your head as he showered you with praises to ease your mind. You blamed yourself for how angry she was, you didn’t know what you possibly did for her to spew such nasty things at you but Mingyu’s comforting purrs helped cheer you up.

Once he was sure enough that you calmed down enough he ended the call with a “go relax baby, i’ll come by in a bit” and a tender eye smile before immediately dialing Rosé number, expression darkening.

She picked up on the first ring, “Hi baby! What’s-“

“What the hell is your problem?!” he chided abruptly. “How could you talk to Y/n like that?! She’s been nothing but kind to you.”

“Wh-What? Mingyu, what are you talking about, I never-“

“Don’t fucking lie to—,” he shut his eyes trying to simmer himself down, “Listen let’s just end it here, okay? You were a nice girl but we both know we weren’t progressing any further than this. Don’t come around anymore, bye.”

Rosé was speechless. She checked her messages and there was nothing recently sent to Y/n— what was going on? She tried to cut in to clear her name but she was met with the sound of an ended call. When she tried texting you her messages wouldn’t send. Did you—

She grabbed her things to rush over to your dorm to verify if what she dared to think be true. She missed the familiar parked car she’d been in too many times to count in her frazzled state once she reached your building. Catching her breath she reached to bang on your door just to freeze at the deep voice she jus heard on the phone a bit earlier from the other side.

“Fuuckkk Y/n, you feel amazing. I-I’m so glad you feel the same way. Do you know how long i waited for this huh? I love— fuck you’re such a dream— i love you so fucking much baby. Gonna love on you all night, yeah? None of them could come close, not even a little— don’t haaah don’t hide your moans from me pretty girl. Need to hear them, god-”

Wet smacks and smooches, desperate moans, violent squeaks coming from your cheap college mattress and between them all breathy declarations of love surrounded Rosé’s eardrums as she fell to the ground gasping into her palm in utter defeat.