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praeluxius · 14 days

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Blasé

part 4 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x kim minju (ex-iz*one) ft yujin, gaeul and rei of Ive

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

words: 9.15k - a lot of set-up in here for future parts, sorry

Blasé - indifferent

It’s a far cry from elegance—the way you’re both scooping up pieces of clothing from the ground.

"Trousers?" You’re scanning wall to wall, behind stools and tables until your eyes rest on the woman across the room. "Where did they go?"

Minju's got her hands at her waist, fitting her own trousers. “Over there.” She simply tilts her head in a direction of vague guidance.

Aside from the distant voice from the flickering television in the corner, showing scenes of the news, and the soft sounds of jazz music, there's an uneasy amount of silence for a bar in the mid-afternoon. Another knock at the door—Wonyoung must be getting impatient. No surprise.

You're pulling on your trousers as Minju slides her arms into her blazer, settling it onto her shoulders. As she brushes down her clothes, fixes her hair and steps over to her shoes, she has shifted back into the unassuming young woman you first set your eyes on. Not a trace of the indecency remains. Not even a slight indication that, despite the attempt she made to clean up with a few napkins, there's likely still your cum running from her cunt.

She has spent the past couple of minutes explaining how this will go—how you're going to sit back at the bar and Minju is going to re-open as if nothing happened. She didn't tell you exactly how she plans to deal with the Wonyoung problem, but, ‘just let me handle it’ is somehow enough for you.

You sit where it all started, joining your drink at the bar. The last remnants greet you in a sorry state of neglect. You do what you can to straighten up, a hand through your hair, a smoothing down of the wrinkles in your shirt, and a tug on the sleeves to straighten the cuffs. It is when you start to think you've got yourself somewhat under control that you realise just how bad you must look. There’s the undeniable sign that you can’t ignore—that rising tide of musk and sweat from your body and the discomfort it brings.

Another loud rattle of the door against the frame, vibrating across the hinges and into the metal fixings. A call of your name, but it's not quite how you think it should sound.

Minju flicks a series of locks on the door; three separate bolts—heavy-duty clunking metal. Finally, she drops the latch and unlocks the main lock. She has her hand on the handle of the door and she hesitates, looking over her shoulder to check on you once again. One last look.

Just smile.

She opens the door, standing in the opening, between you and the woman outside.

"Wonyo—" Minju begins. "Sorry, who are you?"

You twist in your seat and watch the scene unfold. You expect anger, an outpouring of venom from a woman so full of ego, arrogance, vanity, and maybe even jealousy.

Reality is far from the expectation.

The woman asks Minju if you're here, and while you're still racking your mind to work out who she is, Minju lets her in and, in a way, you're grateful for seeing her walk into the room and folding her umbrella.

"Gaeul?"

"Finally, I was a minute away from leaving. What were you—" She looks around the room, at the out-of-place stools, and then at you. She scrunches her nose and sniffs, confirming her suspicions through the scent of sex. "Oh."

She turns her eyes to Minju. Gaeul lingers, eyes fixed on the bartender's face.

"We... we were talking." Minju chuckles in amusement.

"With the door locked?" Gaeul is easy to read, even across the room, and you can see the genuine concern on her face. You hear it in her voice too. Suddenly, even being here feels wrong. Discomforting is the silence. Unnerving is the smile that stretches on Minju's face—a much prouder look than you're giving.

"Relax darling, we were just talking, and then…" Minju dismisses and Gaeul rolls her eyes.

"No, no. Please. Don't say another word," Gaeul waves her hands in front of her, a gesture of surrender. "I don't want to know the details."

"You sure you don't want to hear about how he just—?"

"No. Just no." Gaeul turns from the grinning woman and heads to you.

She struts in that same determined way she always does. Steady are her paces. Bag over her shoulder, short hair half-tied up and black jeans hugging her legs. As usual, she dons the casual grace that suits her so well.

“Bro, what the hell happened?”

“You seriously don’t know?” you answer the question with a question.

“You got called away. Wonyoung said she had somewhere to be and the rest of us were left waiting, but nothing ever happened. Then classes end and Wonyoung finally just tells me I could find you here.”

“I’m in a shit-storm, Gaeul.” You say, resigned to your seat.

Figuratively, of course. Though Gaeul looks like she’s been in one herself as she throws her rain-drenched raincoat over a stool. The one outside probably isn’t bad enough to require a name, but you know the one that you’re facing all too well. Storm Wonyoung.

You recount the abridged version for her. Of course, the details of you and Wonyoung and your benefits need little introduction. As for the rest, it’s difficult to explain the parts you still don’t understand, like how this all comes down and you and you alone. It takes two to fuck.

"You can't just hide in here from it all."

You laugh a little and say, "not hiding." An obvious lie, and Gaeul gives you a forced smile that says she's not convinced.

"You had us worried."

“Even Wonyoung?” you ask; it’s a test more than a question. You know the answer. You know that she doesn’t give a shit, but you want to see if Gaeul tries to sell the lie.

"Ha! That would be a first." Minju mocks with a scoff. She walks back to where you first found her, behind the bar, and she's still pulling and tugging at her shirt to get the fit back how she likes it.

"I’m sure she does," Gaeul says, with little confidence in her words. She sits herself down next to you and drops her bag off her shoulder and onto the bar.

"You’re still trying to convince yourself," Minju mutters with a shake of her head. "She really has you all around her little finger."

Gaeul is trying her best to ignore the interruptions. "Wony and Yujin—they can fix this."

"Yujin, huh? Now that's a new name." Minju interjects yet again, looking at you with eyes sharp enough to cut. She has her back to the shelf of alcohol, her arms folded under her chest. The more you think about it—the more the pieces seem to fall into place—the clearer it becomes that Yujin is the best friend who replaced Minju.

You scratch your ear. What a mess.

"Gaeul, there's no way the school let me back in."

"You don't know that."

Minju steps forward, a little closer. Her tongue dances across her lips as she readies herself to speak. "Oh, you think Wonyoung is going to get daddy's money and pay your way out of this mess? What's she going to tell her father? Hey daddy, please can you bribe the school to help this guy who's been fucking your princess silly? Seriously? She’s probably the one who got you kicked out in the first place."

That same laughter. That same mocking, belittling attitude that Minju had toward the idea of Wonyoung earlier. As if Minju sees nothing but weakness. Sure, Wonyoung has her fair share of faults, and sometimes she comes off too entitled, but right now, in this situation, her heart is actually in the right place. Or that's at least what Gaeul is saying.

“She would never do that! Wonyoung takes care of her friends and I’m sure she…” Gaeul gives up on her argument as Minju continues to laugh in the face of it.

Minju holds one elbow in the palm of the other hand and places her index finger on her cheek. She flicks it over to Gaeul and points. “Where are my manners? Drink?”

"Coffee, I guess."

"Come on, we're in a bar, let me pour you a—"

"No." Gaeul snaps. "All that stuff does is tear lives apart." An unexpected sternness in her tone—not one you’re accustomed to. There's a hardness that washes over her features—even her hair seems to have stood up a bit on end.

"Gaeul, it's just a drink—"

"That's how it starts and before you know it—" The door opens and a couple of men walk in, silencing her. They look to choose their seats and Gaeul seems to shrink into her stool.

"Alright. Coffee it is," Minju says before shifting her focus to you. "Anyway, Yujin—you fucking her too?"

"No." It's not a lie. Close call? Sure. Want to? Of course. Fucking her? No.

With Minju it just seems like if you give her any opportunity to fan the flames and she’s there. She’s the type to see you caught in a storm and perform a rain dance.

She laughs. She knows. It’s written on your face. "Of course not. Maybe she will let you one day." Minju laughs again and turns to pour out a coffee from the machine on the back of the bar.

Gaeul leans in close, making sure Minju can't hear you over the sounds of the coffee machine whirring to life. She whispers, "bro, what’s wrong with this girl? And how does she know Wonyoung?"

"High school or something. They go back. Way back."

Minju approaches you, drink in hand, and without a word, places the coffee in front of Gaeul. Her expression speaks a hundred mocking words, and she shows little remorse for how she only seems to have stirred the pot further. Her earlier words ring in your ears—how you should be more selfish and that there's more to life than Wonyoung and Yujin.

But here's the hitch.

The problem.

You can't shake the feeling that you really like those girls. No matter how complex their games get or how hard they play with your emotions. There's some innate charm about the two of them; a kind of charisma that not only attracts but holds. No matter how impossible their demands are, you keep on wanting more.

You're attracted to their sheer arrogance. Drawn by the magnetism of their utter assurance. Entranced at the depth and certainty of their convictions. And if Minju could read your thoughts right now, she would tell you just how stupid you sound.

As Minju walks away and towards her new patrons, sitting at the other end of the bar, you can only admire her.

Not just physically, but who she is. She doesn't care what other people think. She lives for herself.

"Bro, you gonna keep staring her down like that or you gonna talk to me?"

"Gaeul, I have to ask: why are you here?"

"To save you from doing something stupid. Though I might be too late." Gaeul throws a side-eye down the bar to Minju while she takes a drink.

"Don't take it out on her." You shrug. "She—"

"Hey, I get it, she's hot," Gaeul rests her cup back on the bar and brushes a hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "I could tell when I walked in. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together, but what I don’t understand is you. Do you just enjoy being used by anyone with a nice body?" Gaeul put her hand up between you, palm showing, stopping you from replying. “Actually, don't answer that. What I'm saying is, don't you want more?”

Gaeul takes another drink from her coffee, holding you in suspense. The truth is that you don't really have an answer and you're not in any state of mind right now to make one.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we girls talk. About love and relationships and sex and well... Just stop being so naïve, will you? If you get caught up playing the game, you're the one that's going to end up played." She picks the cup up again, cradling the warm mug between her fingers, wrapping her slender digits around it, squeezing gently. A long inhale follows as the aroma rises, the scent strong and enticing.

"I didn't ask for any of this." It's a defence so weak that you don't even support yourself. It's a hard denial of the fact that you have been used. Wonyoung has had you under her thumb from the start. And maybe you have gotten a little too comfortable under there.

"Listen, stop thinking with your cock for one day, bro. Tomorrow morning, go pick Yujin up from her house and take her out to get a dress for the party." She's talking fast, laying out a plan you weren't prepared for.

"She asked you earlier, remember, and don't worry, I already picked out a few that I know she will like. I'll text you the photos and what stores they're in. And for the love of god, just enjoy her company without trying to cum on her."

You shouldn’t feel insulted by that, but you do. These girls really share everything.

Gaeul continues her instructions, "and then you turn up at the party on time, take the opportunity to forget everything that's happened and have a fun evening with Yujin, okay?"

It sounds so logical that it's impossible not to follow—even if it's rarely ever that simple. You agree. A silent nod, but enough to assure her that her words have reached you.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

Gaeul places the coffee mug back down on the table, pushes it away, and turns to face you. "Please make sure you dress nice, too. None of this"—she motions to your clothes—"can make an appearance. Seriously.” She smiles to herself as she stands up from the stool.

"Did I hear something about a party?" Minju returns with a renewed smile.

Gaeul rolls her eyes and gives you a slight shake of her head. Her way of letting you know that she has already seen enough of the new addition to your life.

"I think I've spent enough time here already. You should probably get home, too.”

You glance toward your drink, and Gaeul rolls her eyes. She laid out the recipe to success so simply and left you in charge of your future.

She offers Minju no quarter, merely walking toward the door she came through without a word. And she gets none in return, Minju quickly forgetting she was ever here to spoil your fun.

Minju repeats her earlier question. "So, party? Tomorrow? Are you talking about Sakura's?" The name is somewhat familiar. The truth is that you don't know for certain whose party it is, or why it was happening, just a time and a place, but as Minju confirms the details with you, they match up. Not that you have ever met this girl in question, it's just another friend of Wonyoung's.

"I didn't plan to go, but if you're my chaperone, then I could be convinced." Minju's got a glint in her eye and a flirtatious lilt in her tone—the kind a girl pulls out when they're trying to tempt you into doing exactly what you know you shouldn't.

Gaeul told you just minutes ago to stop thinking with your cock and it’s easier said than done as Minju stares down at you with those eyes that look oh-so-pretty and the desire floods into you once again.

Still, there's some semblance of resistance in you. "It's not a good idea, for more reasons than I can even explain right now."

She stares at you in silence, smiling as she tries to understand, but her hands reach across and her slender fingers stretch over the top of yours. Fingers brushing over your knuckles and her thumb tucking under your palm.

"Don't ruin the fun," she replies. That spark. Flash. That temptation for more is so hard to resist. Gaeul’s words melt away.

"It's just that—"

"Think about the message it will send: I'll wear my sexiest dress and turn up arm-in-arm with you and Wonyoung will never know how close you were to being broken when you turned up here." It’s probably the worst message you could send, but it does sound exciting.

A momentary smile—lost to a sigh at the thought. "That's only going to stir up more trouble, Minju."

"All's fair in love and war. You ever heard of that? Your move.." She smiles at you—the sly, playful smile of someone who's in complete control, and is too willing to show it. Her hand tightens on yours and her eyes are unrelenting, and despite every sensible part of you warning yourself of her dangers, there's a spark that keeps growing inside that draws you back in.

"Are you really getting all proverbial with me right now?" You try to avoid giving her the answer she wants, but the girl is too smart to let you do that.

"Are you really avoiding giving me an answer? Well, it's too late now. We're going. You can come by and pick me up at seven?"

"Seven," you repeat. A resigned affirmation. "Here?"

"Not here, stupid. My apartment. I put my address in your phone notes."

"My phone?" You pat at your pockets, not feeling it anywhere.

"Here." She pulls it from her back pocket and throws you a gentle wink. "Don't forget about me now."

***

Luckily, it seems that news of your expulsion is still under wraps for now. Not only has no one from the class sent you a text about it, being their usual prying selves, but if the news had gone beyond the school and someone like Yujin's father had found out, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near his daughter.

Actually, everything today just feels so... normal. Even Yujin has avoided mentioning it while you have been out with her.

You're still out now, sitting on one of those chairs outside the changing rooms. You know the ones—placed there for a very specific set of people. The ones for the disgruntled boyfriends who hate this sort of thing and all it entails. With their various bags by their side full of clothes, jewellery and shoes.

That's a lot of guys anyway, but you—

"What do you think?" Yujin calls out as she pulls back the curtain and steps out into the hallway. "It looks nice, right?"

—aren't in their ranks today. You appreciate this ritual for what it is. There is no exasperation. No annoyance. Nothing but the simple delight of watching a beautiful woman twirl in front of you before her reflection.

"Looks great, Yujin," you answer with an honest smile.

She gives you another twirl, arms out, her slim and toned legs shown by the dress's thigh-length cut, her arms bare and the rest of her dress is tight fitting across her flat stomach and rounding her breasts. She's playing gently with the strap on her shoulder, adjusting it against her skin. With another turn and twist, the backless nature of the dress catches your eye.

"You say that about every dress I try."

"Well, they're all gorgeous. It's hard for me to pick one."

Her laughter is sweet and musical, and it hits your heart with a dull thumping, like a heavy drum being struck inside your chest. "You're not as much help as I hoped. What do you really think?"

Yujin drops a hand to her hip, planting it there and posing with a soft pout on her lips. She has her hair held back into a ponytail. "Tell me, am I sexy?" She punctuates the question with a shake of her hips. "Pretty? Cute? Tell me, do I look good enough to eat?"

"Eat?"

Yujin does that thing she always does; where when she finishes laughing after teasing you and she bites her tongue and it pokes through her lips. She drags the curtain back across, obscuring your view again, and you're left with nothing but the plain white corridor. That and the sounds of her carefully undressing on the other side of the draped fabric. You can imagine how she undid the zipper. How it opens from her lower back. The sound the fabric will make as it slides over her naked curves—

Fuck. Stop. Don't fantasise now. Not here.

You rock your head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. The white tiles aren't exactly exciting, but they are preferable to imagining anything Yujin is or isn't currently wearing.

"Can you believe it?" Yujin calls from behind the curtain, wrangling your attention back. "Nine whole days. No warning at all."

"Did I miss something?"

"My dad. He's gone for nine whole days this time. Only one day after momma has gone to visit my aunt. The house is weird without them. It's just me and the staff. It's cold and quiet. You should come over more." It's all so nonchalant for her to ask that. No mention of what happened the last time you were in her house. How you—

Yujin pulls the curtain and steps out. A new dress. It's hard to look away and even harder to look her in the eyes. This is an elegant red one, an alluring warm hue. The dress is cut high up on the thigh, close enough to the line of the panties you're actively not thinking about. Tight on her waist and a neckline that follows the collarbone and frames her neck and shoulders in soft fabric.

"Well?"

"Yes." It's the only word that comes to mind. She's the most beautiful thing. Your favourite image. She is like a perfect portrait, hung there just for your view.

"Yes what?" she asks.

"Yes to this dress. This is the one."

She pulls a look. One you're not exactly sure how to read. "And about coming over?"

"Um..." The old you would have leapt at the chance. Fuck, the current you wants to too, but you still haven't addressed the elephant in the room.

"What's going on with you?" Yujin quizzes. She knows you haven't been your usual self the whole day. Everything weighing on your mind, including a future where you quite literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring. You can feel it—have felt it—holding you back.

"Look..." You run a hand through your hair. "The school thing has been playing on my mind." It's half the truth.

"Is that it? It's only school."

"Yujin. It's my life. I don't have money or assurances or—"

"You have me." Yujin steps forward, looking down at you in your seat, smiling. "Right?"

You look at her all confused. How do you reply to that? What does she even mean by that?

"I've got your back, okay? Always," Yujin assures, her smile so calming and comforting and yet, her words leave something to be desired. "Trust me."

Yujin raises a delicate hand toward your cheek, hovering millimetres from touching, just close enough for you to feel her heat and her draw. For an agonising second, all is silent as the air hangs tense. Then the touch. The smoothness of fingers that have never worked a day in their life against your skin.

"I already called the school. Told them Daddy would cut his funding if they didn't brush it under the rug." It's all so easy for her. How casually she flaunts her money and influence. But as the fingers trace the edge of your jaw, graze across your cheeks and come to rest their pad beneath your chin, tilting your head upward and casting your vision toward the young woman's bright smile, you can’t help but pin your hopes on her.

There's this moment you're stuck in, staring at her smile and wishing you could kiss it. Her fingertips threaten to draw you in but just as you let them, she slips them off you and pulls herself back. "But—" Yujin says with a wink, "you owe me."

She takes three steps back, slipping back into the cubby of a changing room across from you.

Yujin turns to the mirror, admiring the dress, her fingers running flat against her stomach. Her arms trail up along her side and around, stroking and smoothing down the fabric. Her shoulders shift, tugging on the fabric and perfecting the fit as she always does. "You're right. This is the one. You have good taste."

Yujin reaches her hands behind her back, fingers reaching her upper back and to the fabric of the dress. You watch, breathing steadily, as her fingertips begin to work the zipper, sliding it downward ever-so-slowly, exposing an inch of skin, then another, and another…

She tilts her head and gives her hair a subtle shake, exposing the nape of her slender neck. With a gentle roll of her shoulders, the dress falls loose, slipping from the sharpness of her shoulders, and gathering up on her elbow and waist. Her back is bare to you, and when you can drag your eyes to the mirror, a lot more too. That's when you catch her gaze, looking back in the mirror, watching the effect she has as the dress falls further, fully from her arms and waist to the floor.

Now only her underwear hugs her hips, the soft lace of her panties a little sheer, framing her perfectly round ass. Her eyes are fixated on your own, her face almost twisted, so sadistically joyous, revelling in the sight of your torture. Yujin says nothing—how could she say a word to ruin this tension? A laugh slips through her lips, and then she reaches behind her for the curtain. Drawing an end to the act as she conceals herself behind the fabric.

“Take this," she calls through the curtain and you're still trying to settle back into reality when out pops her hand, the dress draped over it. "You still have my card, right? You can go pay."

You take the dress, not knowing how to reply.

Yujin continues, "meet you by the door."

***

"Did you two just—?"

"She's in the changing room, Rei. At the store."

"Oh." Rei sounds out of breath and fatigued, her words come heavy, laced with pants. "Fuck it. You can help me. You're the only person who answered."

"What's wrong Rei?" You're talking with your eyes fixed across the room, waiting to see Yujin emerge.

"What's the best excuse to get out of a guy's apartment?" Rei is hushed a little now.

"Wait. Are you in there right now?"

"In the bathroom, he can't hear me right now, but yeah. I need an out. This guy was texting me about how well he was going to fuck me and he blew in like a minute." There is some disgust in her tone, a clear sense of disillusion. "Dude ended up just watching me get off. Prick."

Trying to keep it on topic, and trying to not imagine Rei masturbating, you say, "family emergency is always a good one. Hang up. Walk back into the bedroom. Then I'll call you pretending to be your uncle."

"A sexy uncle or a creepy uncle?"

"Your choice?"

"I'd say you're more of a sexy uncle."

You try not to indulge her. "Rei. Go."

"Right."

She hangs up. And you give it a minute, counting back from sixty. You call her, and when she answers, you turn up your volume, which grabs the attention of a few people in the store. "Rei! Rei! Where are you?"

"Uncle? What's wrong? Calm down!" She even sounds slightly convincing.

"Your aunt. There's been an accident. You need to hurry." You're quieter now, and the eyes around you go back to whatever they were doing.

"Yes uncle. Right away! I'm on my way now." Then you barely hear her ad she's speaking to the mystery man in the room with her. "Sorry, I have to go. It's my uncle. My auntie... she..."

Wow. She even sounds so genuinely upset. There's probably even a fake tear in there somewhere. There's some more muffled conversation you can't make out, likely Rei's dropped the phone while she dresses. You can imagine it, even if you couldn't make out what's going on in the background. She's feigning a panic, apologising to the guy, quickly pulling on her panties while he's laid there all confused. She's grabbing a shirt, jeans, a coat, and then rushing out the door. All the while maintaining her worry.

"Uncle?" she calls down the phone after some sounds of commotion. "I'm on my way now." There's the sound of a door slamming in the background.

"Rei? You good?" you ask.

"I'm out now. Thank you. Ugh. At least one guy didn't let me down today. Why is it so hard to just get a good fuck?" She lets out the words with a sigh, her tone is annoyed, and the sound in the background has changed. Her steps. The outdoors. The sound of cars.

"Take it as a compliment. Maybe you're just too hot for him."

She laughs a little, "yeah or my pussy is too good. Some people aren't prepared for what my pussy can do." She laughs again, louder this time and it brings a chuckle from yourself.

"Got to go now, Rei. Text me when you're home," you tell her.

"Wait! Before you go, what are you doing in say... an hour?"

"You what now?"

"Come on." She whines in that exaggerated way she can't quite contain. "If you're not busy then..." She trails off and silence follows.

You're not even sure what to think. Not sure what to say. "Rei..."

"Just kidding. Thanks again." She speaks in a hurry and hangs up the phone quickly too, before you can even say goodbye. You bring the phone in front of you, to make sure the call ended. It did.

You look up from the screen just as Yujin appears across the store.

***

Yujin leads you through the mall as you trail just behind her, one arm draped in bags full of clothes worth more than triple the car you drove her here in.

"Trust me. If it's not in a cone, then it's just not right," Yujin insists. You're not sure how you've come down to arguing about the semantics of eating ice cream, but here you are.

"But what if it's in a glass and it has a wafer with it? It's the same taste. The same substance," you contend, trying to reason.

"That's a sundae and sundaes are a whole different thing altogether. Everyone knows that."

"Okay, so what's wrong with that, but in a plastic cup?"

"You mean in a disposable container with not much thought, nor flavour nor creativity?" She stops in place, turning to you and saying, "Ice cream is an experience." She raises her hand to her head, grabbing at it and feigning frustration.

"So, glass okay, cone okay, plastic cup, not okay? Even if it's the same ice cream in all three?"

"Exactly." That's her reasoning, for leading you all the way to the other side of the mall, to the place that puts ice cream in a cone, and not in a little tub.

You hold your tongue for a minute and follow. Waiting for that perfect moment to throw your next question out there. You're slipping through the crowds of people, cutting around groups as they browse and peruse the items on display at the front of each store, and occasionally avoiding the people mindlessly walking on their phones.

Yujin is looking ahead and she doesn't see it coming. Two kids running right across her path. You quickly reach for her arm and pull her out of the way just in time to avoid them running headlong into her.

"What are you—"

"Careful." You tilt your head towards the kids as they run across in front of you.

"Oh." Yujin flicks her gaze after them and turns it up at you, smiling. "My hero," she says whimsically, almost to the point you feel she's mocking you. Yujin lifts her arm under your grasp until she meets your hand with her own, and then interlocks her fingers into yours. She continues leading as if nothing at all has changed. You're following her again, past countless stores, your hand bound with her all along.

"So, Yujin, soft-serve or—"

"Don't even go there." Yujin laughs, turning to flash you a smile. She pulls on your hand to bring you to a stop. "Here we are."

"But, we didn't even discuss flavours..."

***

It's different, and not entirely comfortable. Usually, Yujin is buried in her phone, scrolling down her feed, flicking through stories or reading all those weird Instagram message requests she gets from her followers. Not this time. No, Yujin is sitting beside you in the passenger seat, her phone nowhere to be seen—enjoying life. Enjoying your company.

She still has her ice cream, in a cone just as she wanted, and she's sharing it with you as you drive. She reaches over between her licks to give you a taste.

It's not just that, it's how talkative she is—now more than ever. Never has she been so willing to discuss her family. She's just finished telling you all about her auntie and how her mother helped her set up a shop overseas, and how she’s visiting her right now. All this talk has led her to her father, who she talks about with much less fervour.

You will never forget the first time you met him; the imposing aura the man commands and his rigorous standards for everything. Her stories though? They seem more like myths.

"He ran a whole rival company into the ground. Pricing them out of deals, cutting shady deals himself. It was ruthless. But effective," Yujin says, pausing before she gives her ice cream another lick. "Hundreds of people lost their jobs; it was all on the news. I was young, so I didn't really understand. Mother tells me it changed him. He was away for a long time. I went years without really spending time with him."

"Yujin... I don't understand. He always seems so..."

"Nice?" Yujin completes the statement for you with a sarcastic laugh. "When he's home, he puts on the act. But when he's away, sometimes mother just wishes he would stay there." She's looking straight ahead now, focusing on the view out the front window as you dip off the highway.

"Can I ask about the scar, then?" It's a topic you're unsure about broaching, but it feels like the kind of chance that won't come again if you leave it.

"Scar? The one on his neck? He wouldn't even tell me or mother how he got it. Probably some ex-employee, or... an ex-lover." That's the one thing you knew about him. Yujin told you before about how he barely even hides his trysts from his wife and the damage it has caused.

"Sometimes I wish the entire company would just burn, and we would all be left with nothing. Have a normal life."

“A normal life isn’t any better, Yujin. Just a different shade of the same colour.”

There's a vulnerability to her now that always seemed so elusive. It's the softness of her tone and the almost timid smile that crosses her face when you look over. Then comes the quiet. The silence as she waits—waits for the world to answer all her unanswered questions. Waits for you to give the reassurance she needs, to know she's not alone.

With one hand still on the wheel, you reach the other over to her lap and find her hand.

"Don't." Yujin pushes back at first. But the harder she pushes, the tighter you squeeze and you let her know that you're going to be here. Her resistance crumbles and the fight subsides. And Yujin entwines her hand back with yours, locking her grip. "Thank you."

You turn the next corner and the molten orange afternoon sun burns ahead of you, threatening to fall below the horizon. Its warm rays burst with vivid colour.

"You never talk about your parents," Yujin asks with a soft curiosity.

"I don't know them. It's just my brother and me. Always has been. Always will be. He raised me," you explain so simply.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I sound so ungrateful now." This might be the first time you have ever heard Yujin utter that word—sorry. She holds a little tighter onto your hand, a returned reassuring squeeze to tell you she cares.

You keep hold of her as you turn into the gated grounds of her house, pull up into her long-cobbled driveway and pull the car over in front of the door.

"You should come in, stay with me until the party," she offers, refusing to let go of your hand.

"I have to go home, I have to wash and change and..." You trail off, omitting the fact you also have to go to Minju's place before the party. Her hold on your hand loosens as you speak but you hold a little tighter and tell her, "but, I'll see you soon."

The warmth of her touch departs your grip. Her face seems more understanding. "You will." She smiles and behind her, through the window, you spot her staff approaching to help with her bags. "Don't be late, okay?"

You give her a firm single nod as she steps out of the car.

***

You're about to buzz for the third time, but you pause to check your phone. You read the address over and over. You're at the right place. Maybe Minju made a typo? Maybe she did this on purpose just to waste your time? You press the buzzer a third and final time. It rings and rings until eventually the screen lights up.

Minju's face is pressed to the camera. "You're early."

"Actually, I'm right on time."

She turns away from the camera to check the clock on the wall. She leans a little to get a better look, bringing more of her into view. More accurately, bringing her bare shoulders into the camera shot. "Fuck," she says as she turns back to the camera. "Okay, look, just come up."

"But I have a taxi here waiting."

"So wave them away." The camera cuts off and the door buzzes open.

You roll your eyes and open the door, turning to the taxi driver and lazily waving a hand before you enter.

When you make it to Minju's apartment, a surprise awaits. You find the door unlocked—that's not the surprise. What's behind it is what is so unexpected. It looks like the aftermath of a localised apartment tornado.

There are shoes on the floor between strewn-out items of clothing as soon as you enter. There's a pair of her jeans right by the door and next to them a bra. You drag your eyes across the room and things don't get any better. You don't even want to know how that pair of tights ended up hung over her TV. Or why there's one of her bomber jackets hung from the fridge? And you especially don't want to question how the back of her sofa became her de facto underwear drawer—there are six or seven pairs laid out along it.

"Minju, it's me," you call out.

Minju pokes her head from her bathroom door. "Take a seat."

"And where in the world am I supposed to find one?" Even her dining chairs hold two folded stacks of work clothes.

Minju shrugs and scrunches her nose before ducking back into the bathroom. A moment of silence is followed by the blaring of a hair dryer. You navigate the floor like a minefield until you close in on the door she just slipped into. You check your watch, just twenty-five minutes until when you told the girls you would be there. Until when Yujin is expecting you—alone.

"Minju!" You call over the sounds of her drying her hair..

She speaks from within, her voice almost completely muffled. "What's wrong?" The sounds cut to quiet.

"Ten minutes until we need to—" Your voice is caught in your throat as Minju emerges from the bathroom. She's wearing nothing but the scent of her soap and the soft glisten of her damp skin. And, in true Minju style, she doesn't cover herself, she doesn't even shy away.

It’s all so… blasé.

"My eyes are up here." Her giggling is playful and sultry, luring you to her, and there is no place else for your gaze to drift. All you have to do is watch. Follow every drop and curve, every exquisite angle. The wet, raven hair hangs heavy down her back.

"You— we— clothes— where are your clothes?"

"Ummm..." Minju raises her hands in a form of shrug as she twists and scans around the room. "They're somewhere here. Probably." She keeps walking, across your path and into the kitchen. You watch her as she struts all the way to the far counter. She stands for a moment or two in a pose, her weight on one leg and the other propped on her tiptoe.

She finally turns back to you, half a bottle of wine in her hand and a half-cocked smile on her lips.

"Minju, I need to—"

"When was the last time you had a drink? Anything since yesterday afternoon?" she asks as she sweeps two glasses that don't even look clean from the countertop.

"No, nothing, but—"

"How about sex? Fucked anyone else since me?" she's asking so casually as she places the two glasses on the small part of her table that isn't covered in books, papers and boxes. She uncorks the wine bottle and begins to pour.

"What? No, but Minju... it's almost—" Your pointless protests are stilted by the young woman thrusting a glass of wine towards you, which you feel compelled to step closer and take. You stand across from her, glass in hand, staring at a face that's staring back.

"Me neither. Cheers," she says, tilting her glass toward you as an invitation. You clink them together and follow her lead, drinking the wine in one go. “That's the drink out of the way. Now how about a fuck?"

Minju places her glass onto the table and then she approaches, sauntering one foot in front of the other until her bare chest presses against yours.

"Time is ticking, I know." Her mouth is beside your ear, whispering into it and brushing the tip of her nose across your cheek. “But we can be quick."

She slides back a step, her hand taking hold of your collar, tugging you toward her as she takes another step. You pass by the table and you take the chance to place your glass alongside hers before she continues to draw you across the room.

You don't resist. Couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted. You step as she guides you. Follow as she leads until her hips rest against her kitchen counter. There you close the space, pressed together, looking into her dark eyes—tainted with want. There's something about Minju that makes everything simple. All the world, the noise, the games. All the expectations and pressures of normal life are foregone and stripped away, leaving only you, her, and basic instinct.

Your fingers cup her jaw, following the smoothness and warmth of her cheeks. It's a subtle action, a movement slow in motion yet so immediate in meaning. As you make your desires known, the sparkle that plays at the corners of her eyes draws your lips into hers.

You near a kiss until she turns away at the last moment, leaning herself forward and presenting her bare back to you. "What do you see?" she asks, looking back at you.

The soft curve of her spine paths her back all the way to the dimple at the base. You smooth the flat of your palm along her sides, touching gently across the silkiness of her warm, wet skin. Your lips come down, pressed to her shoulder and you brush the tip of your nose along her nape. And just like that, you're intoxicated by her. All sense and rationality abandoned. "You."

"Then fuck me." Her voice is sweetly coarse, a gentle whisper. You hear a faint noise escape, a gentle mewing of want.

And fuck you will. Your hands run over her, squeezing gently as you lower. All the while she presses and writhes herself against you, rubbing and stirring at your building lust, toying it further and further. Minju bends over more, backing herself against you until you're made to take a step back. She keeps her hands against the wood as she lowers her head further and slightly parts her legs.

You're quick to unbuckle your belt, pop the button, unfasten the zipper and slip your boxers low enough to take out your dick. Hard, ready, wanting, and there's an invitation in front of you. Bare and inviting, warm and moist, enticing and so perfect.

Minju turns to flash her eyes over her shoulder, holding the very image of invitation. So, with only that little cue needed, you slide inside her. One short stroke followed by a deep, stretching push, all the way, your hips crashing to meet her. Slow, sensual motions in and out as you grip her waist.

"Faster. Like you mean it." There it is. The thing you love and hate about Minju—the expectation, the challenge, the attitude, the need for more.

A few deep breaths and you grip a little tighter. Brace your legs a little firmer and with a shift of weight forward you drive harder into her and her mewl of approval spurs you onward. You hit a rhythm that suits you both. Her back arches. She sways forward with each motion before bucking her hips back, pushing you as hard as you're pulling, matching your want with hers.

As you both find comfort in your actions, a rhythm that doesn't chase a high but pleases wholly, Minju looks over her shoulder again with a question on her lips. "Who's Yujin?"

A quick answer leaves you. "Not now," you respond, while you pull at her hips and pull a whine from her.

Minju's voice is barely a whisper. She repeats the name, questioning it a second time and asking, "You didn’t tell me yesterday. Who is she?"

"Can't you let it go?"

"You have your cock in me. Least you can do is answer my question." Minju is smiling when she says it, showing her teeth with a look that just dares you to not do as she says.

"Fine," you reply and then slide your hand up her body, reaching to cup one of her tits while you fuck her. "Yujin is a friend," you say, and you know how unsure you sound. "And she's a friend of Gaeul and Wonyoung too."

"So, really, have you fucked her too?" The question is as blunt as she can possibly make it and Minju emphasises it further with a deliberate shake of her ass into you, driving her hips back to make a point.

"Nope."

"But you want to." This time, a statement, not a question.

"Why do you think that?"

"As soon as I mentioned her name I could feel you twitch inside me. Fuck me a little bit harder. You wish I was her." Minju laughs, a hand moving behind her back, snaking around to grip her own ass.

"I didn't. I just— It was you, I—"

"I don't care. Think about her if you want. As long as you fuck me." Minju is demanding, the statement becomes her prerogative. She bites her lip and plays with herself. She knows exactly the way to tease and taunt. "That's why you're even doing this? Did Yujin not show enough affection? Too high and mighty to put out? Or does she just not like you?"

"It's complicated." You slow your movements to a series of leisurely strokes. It gives you a moment to collect your thoughts and choose your words. "We've had... moments... but I don't really understand her. But fuck she drives me insane. She's this mystery and sometimes a contradiction and you know what, Minju? Sometimes she infuriates me with her teasing." You remember just earlier today, her little show in the changing room and how it led to nothing more. You hold Minju a little firmer with a tight grasp on her waist and her breast. The anger pushes your hips against hers with a little more force.

"Ooohh... someone is frustrated. It's fucking hot when girls play coy, isn't it? Seeing her and the power she has over you. Dangling the prize and not giving it to you." Minju arches her back and looks at you, a curl in the corner of her lips as she asks, "would you rather be inside her?"

"I'm inside you," is all the answer that comes. It is a grunting, panting whisper. You thrust a little deeper and a moan fills the air.

"Fuck me harder then, use me. Fuck me like I'm Yujin. Like I'm the fucking tease that's finally giving you what you want."

There's something about the way she's taunting and coaxing you that awakens this raw, carnal lust. How does she read you this well? She's got your thoughts down to the very emotion in such a perfect moment, in a time of emotional fragility, and in a way that's strangely flattering, a kind of praise in and of itself. And Minju is saying everything that excites you most about the way you think about Yujin. All of the want and the unfulfilled frustration. All of it validated.

So you fuck her. Truly fuck her.

And you try and bury into her how much Yujin affects you. You push Minju's hips against the counter, slamming her against it and she sends a couple of pots flying in her wake. "Yes, you want her like this," she says in between pants as your thrusts speed to new heights. Minju bucks her hips into you to meet your motions, but even as she braces herself as best she can, she cannot quite catch up.

"Take her as you take me," she cries, letting out the mewing moans with a chorus of gasps, one for every time you grind your cock deep within her, you feel a squeeze, the gripping of her walls, the milking, beckoning tightness. "Break her, like she's never been fucked."

"Ahhh Minju..." You grind in deeper.

"Yujin. You're fucking Yujin!" Minju calls.

You are driven to your deepest. One final stroke as Minju clamps her thighs together.

She yells her words in an abrupt, lustful explosion. "What does Yujin like? Does she like this?" Minju teases, trying to sound seductive despite the audible lack of air in her chest and the torrents of orgasmic energy flooding through.

"Fuck," you grunt, clapping your hips against Minju's ass. Your mind is a cocktail of reality and imagination. A beautiful girl in front of you. The image of Yujin taking off her dress in your mind. That fucking tease, showing you and playing with you and taunting you. She's smiling—they're both smiling. Minju and Yujin. Looking back at you. Smiling, goading, taunting, playing.

"Harder! Fucking harder!" Minju squeals with excitement as she throws herself against the surface in front of her, sending more things flying out the way onto the floor. You have a hand in the centre of her back, pinning her down while you slam into her throbbing cunt. Again and again, the slaps and the wet smacks resound with every impact. "Let it out," she squeals.

Her words stir an inferno, building a flame inside and its warmth fans out, spreading and warming every part of you. Its fire melting and burning you in its powerful force. And then with one last plunge, you hold yourself, pressing as deep into her as possible, filling her up and sending yourself bursting and exploding through her.

The rushing wave. Flooding torrent. Thunderous release.

Everything let go.

In her, and held fast, still spasming, still releasing, spilling, and pouring everything. Everything spent, empty, drained. You try and catch the breath that evades your racing heart and heaving chest. Sweaty and slick. Warm and tender. The exhaustion settling in.

It's all so fucking cathartic. A long-suppressed and repressed fire finally unleashed and given its time to burn. Unhindered and unchained, and all under the watchful eye of your own personal confidant, coaxing out what's been buried, releasing its lock, freeing its bounds.

"Now tell me... how long have you wanted that?" Minju asks, and the satisfaction in her voice makes it clear that she already knows.

With your pulse pounding and breath racing, you're not ready to face her just yet. It takes another moment, holding her, pressed against her, feeling the closeness in a way that you could almost say is romantic. Minju wriggles under you and releases a laugh.

She shuffles and slides away from you, forcing your still sensitive, softening dick to slip from her. Now she is facing you and it's a sight worth appreciating, but at the same time, so, so dangerous. Her beauty is special, but your mind is a mess.

"So..." Minju pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it between her teeth for a second as she dips her head then she laughs. "Did you have any other fantasies with her?"

"Minju." It's the most exhausted warning you can muster as you sink to the floor, sitting back against a kitchen cupboard.

"If it's any consolation. She's missing out. You're a great fuck. Just what I needed."

"Right back at you," you say, leaning back your head, exhausted, to rest on the cold wood. You stare up at the white ceiling, in a strange reminisce. It isn’t exciting but it’s preferable to your thoughts.

"Hmmm, that's cute." Minju is still standing beside you, using a piece of kitchen towel to awkwardly clean herself up. She wipes the thick, slick mess away and asks, "And look. What we just did, it's not weird. I get it. We're two friends just helping each other out. No strings."

You nod slowly, taking her sentiment.

"Don't worry. Yujin will know nothing. Our little secret," Minju says, patting your head. You sit for a moment in silence, Minju still by your side, she's getting herself a bottle of water now from the pack next to her.

"Minju?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is your place such a fucking mess?"

***

A/N: future parts will pick up in a smut sense with the other characters, promise.

also, I have no idea what i'm doing anymore with this part, I feel like this part isn't very good, but trust me, big things are coming.

#minju smut #kim minju smut #izone smut #yujin fluff #gaeul #rei smut #m reader #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop smut #ive smut #ive fluff #folie a deux

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thekissofaphrodite · 4 months

Note

Hiii im absolutely in-love with your writing and I was wondering if you could do Clarisse X daughter of Hecate (ive seen a few fics of this dynamic and as a child of Hecate and someone who has a massive crush on clarisse I love seeing works like those lmao)

THIS IS AMAZING OML. TYSM FOR REQUESTING THIS!! THIS IS SO FUN TO MAKE <33

Black Magic

Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Hecate!Reader

Summary: Brewing potions and matchmaking is a fun but not much fun as admiring the infallible Clarisse La Rue.

Warnings: KISSING. (i noticed that almost all of my requests had this warning :P )

Author's Note: I'M BACK WITH MY LAPTOP! AND I'LL TAKE A DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL SINCE IM TIRED FROM TRAVELING BUT HERE I AM! I DO HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS.

You loved the smell of brewing potion.

As a child of Hecate, you and your half siblings were often known as witches and matchmakers at camp. But still, some campers looked you in the eye and would call you a freak, Boasting about how their godly parent were part of the olympians, pointing at your mother's lack of place beside the Olympians.

Still, you've got a queue of campers (Mostly girls) waiting outside your cabin, The first ones left your workshop with a big smile on their faces or clutching their best friend whispering excitedly.

you and your siblings don't exactly share the same power for your mother had blessed you with different, but divine powers, and sure enough, you got foreseeing.

But some also left with a distraught expression and muttering a string of curses at you...It's not your fault that that their crushes aren't interested in them! You're just a fortune teller!

"B-but this is a mistake! I love Presley! your magic is wrong!" Cried a girl from the aphrodite cabin, tears streaming down her cheeks, smudging her mascara, You gave her a sympathetic look before sighing.

"That's not what it said here..." You looked down at your cauldron with purple-ish pink bubbling liquid, The Boy, who you assumed was presley, had another girl in his arms, twirling her around as they dance into a romantic song. The aphrodite girl stormed away furiously, purposely knocking down several of your stacked candles and jars full of ingredients.

Then, You saw the girl bump into someone, It was Clarisse. The girl frowned, but then gulped when she saw Clarisse staring back at her.

The moment Clarisse saw you, her eyes soften a little bit, her lips curling into a smile as she watched you get flustered.

"Hey"

"Hey" You blushed as you hid your face in a book.

"Can i try?" Clarisse asked.

"Try what?" You raised your brow, staring at her carefully, The cauldron separating you two in between.

"That fortune potion thingy, I wanna know who i'd end up with" Her words made your heart break a little bit, You had a big crush on clarisse la rue the moment you stepped inside camp, and now here she is, you crush asking you to foresee her future with someone else.

You swallowed your disappointment and anger before nodding, your face frowning a little bit as you set your book down and grabbed a pair of scissors.

"I need a piece of your hair" You said, Clarisse then grabbed the scissors and cut a decent amount of hair.

She watched you carefully, her brown eyes glinting with admiration as you recited latin and greek spells before dropping her hair into the cauldron, the smoke started rising and the liquid started bubbling, at first, you thought your eyes deceived you, you saw yourself with clarisse, sitting under a tree your back leaned against hers as you two laughed, hands intertwined as the sun rays hit you two.

you became breathless, your body stiff, Clarisse was confused, her dark brows raised as she scanned your expression.

"Oh my gods, please don't tell me it's Chris Rodriguez" She said, she secretly hoped it would be you, the thought of chris rodriguez and her being all lovey dovey made her sick.

When she peaked into the cauldron, She felt victory, joy, ecstasy she couldn't describe it. Every happy emotions filling her as she watched herself and you in the cauldron, laughing while kissing each other's cheeks lovingly.

You became speechless while watching Clarisse's eyes beam with joy, You two stared at each other for a moment before the Ares girl took the matters to her hands and kissed you.

It took you a moment to process what's going on. Then you find yourself kissing her back, pulling her closer as her breasts pressed against yours.

You two were then interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you two quickly pulled away and stepped back. Clarisse pretended to look around while you improvised some words to save you and Clarisse from being caught.

Your half sister, Lou Ellen looked at you and Clarisse before going to her trunk, rummaging into her things.

"I'll have your strengthening draught ready by tomorrow" You blurted at clarisse, You looked at her and she stared back before nodding.

"Of course" She whispered.

As she left, You saw her wink at you cheekily before closing the door.

"What's that ares girl doing here?" Lou Ellen asked.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing at all" You whispered, still feeling her lingering touch.

A/N: THIS IS AMAZING OMG!!! I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT MORE WITCHY AND STUFF BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS!!

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #xy/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarrise pjo #dior goodjohn

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xcrust · 3 months

Text

Paint the Town Red [PREVIEW]

I seriously haven't written due to having an education but for my story i want to give you improvement and quality content. So I am not making you all wait too long here is a preview of the next chapter. If there is anything that you feel is needed and note you would want to offer then i would love for you to throw it my way

FULL STORY HERE

All the latest chapters and previous is at that link!!!

Looking between the mirror in front of you, reflecting In the soft glow of dawn's embrace, (Y/n) stood before the ornate mirror that adorned her room. The morning sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a warm radiance upon them as they examined her reflection. It wasn't the typical admiration one might associate with vanity; rather, it was an introspective gaze that transcended the surface.

As they lifted a lock of hair, the sunlight or rather the glimmer caught the subtle highlights, reminiscent of the glimmers of hope that had guided them through the darkest nights. The relationship between their parents isn't inherently bad. But the isolating feeling never evolved or made anything better. This dark world was something that was all you knew. Inherently when it came to your view of humans it had to be a little different from your older sister. All humans are made corrupt. No matter the family a person is raised from. Though what allows hell borns to be condemned to whatever flock shows up. It is a harsh ideal but with so much bad coming from earth then how could someone even have a belief that earth is all that good when it's corrupting the supposed bad.

Nevertheless the people that showed up from earth kept the seven rings entertained the more time went on. In fact if it weren't for earth then you wouldn't be in the situation that you are now. You couldn't remember the last time you had dinner with your parents, Family dinners hadn't been a thing in a long time. So sitting across a little table of a cafe with the infamous radio demon for dinner is the last thing that would have been imagined in your life.

“So my dearest! I want to know everything about you and what makes you tick” Closing your new pocket mirror you glance at him before going to pick at your clothes, the bunny painted in red stares at you with a charming look in his eye.

“Alastor, you're going all out for a person like me. But what is it that you want.” curiosity might have killed the cat but in hell its survival of the fittest. Between you and him, that's an easy feat for you but survival in getting higher in the food chain? Well that's some grounds you need to work on.

“ Heavens me, or should I say hells me? HA can't a guy get to know another fella?” His burgundy pinstripe suit made your weakness to elegant things. In your heart you are truly someone that cannot be so easily deterred by another. If leaving the Morningstar household didnt prove it. Maybe working on social skills might be the first thing to work on.

“Who are you kidding? What?! Did you want to talk to my dad? Sorry to best your bubble but i'm making a nam-”

“Hush now” he quipped in “now what are you assuming on today” taking out a pocket watch from his top pocket. The ticking being comically loud. Being in hell should have you used to an odd face every once in a while. But looking at him felt like a lost cartoon. “As ive said before, i know nothing about you. You've just got a nifty little… look to you” There goes his smile again. It's so shameless.

“Yeah right” Being hell royalty should've put your name towards everyone that walks this street.

“Sorry doll face, having such a smooth face in this area of town might just be the most interesting piece of plot in these parts” you let out a sudden hitch in your breath. Does he actually not know anything about you? Maybe the overlord title might be a lot harder than intended. “Now doll you're never fully dressed without a smile, now play nice” The grimace on your face might’ve just drowned in your thoughts hearing him say that.

You couldn't make sense of his statement. An earthborn being known to you and probably the purest kind of entertainment in hell. Though if he didnt even know who you were then maybe this could be a better opportunity in the end. No phony respect. Something that would actually make a difference to yourself. Smoothing your expression into soft passiveness.

“Say there, bunny tail, how about you and I take a stroll down the boulevard and paint the town red”

“Aren't you a tough nut to crack? Well who am I to deny a bona fide high roller”

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serevena · 6 months

Text

Gf!Ellie on Halloween

a.n - Happy Halloween everyone!! Needed to post this because Halloween is my fav ever..hope your Halloween is good!! Enjoy <3 🎃

warnings - provocative language, fluff, Ellie being a dork and scared of everything, kissing.

; I

Ellie was never the type to celebrate holidays. Her peers would be lucky if she accepted a cake on her birthday.

But you changed that, persistent that Ellie get dressed up and went out with you for Halloween. You went all out and made her close her eyes, grabbing a costume you bought for her a few days prior and holding it in front her.

“You can open ‘em.”

“Holy shit!” Ellie muttered, her brows raising as her hands went to her knees, rubbing them over her jeans lightly. And you could slowly see her crack a smile on her chapped lips.

“Do you like it?” You asked, already knowing the answer. The helmet; which was admittedly the best part to the beloved astronaut costume was still in the closet, and you smiled at the thought of Ellie’s reaction to that. Ellie nodded and felt the fabric of the costume before kissing you, quickly pulling away to look at it again.

“It’s fuckin’ sick!”

; II

Throughout the month of October, you’d been practically forcing Ellie to partake in any Halloween events. Haunted houses, pumpkin carving, pumpkin patches, you name it, the two of you did it.

She most definitely did not agree to the haunted house at first, scared shitless but she’d never admit it.

And god, it was like hell on actual earth when the two of you arrived. Ellie let out something of a scream-groan when the two of you were waiting In line, a man sliding over to the two of you. You laughed, not only finding it cool but also at Ellie’s reaction. She covered her face and squeezed her sweaty palm onto yours.

And let’s not get started on when the two of you actually went inside. She insisted you go first so the scare wouldn’t be as bad for her, but she somehow ended up in the front halfway through. She jumped and practically squealed every time someone popped out, a gush of wind hit the two of you, or a light would make a weird noise.

By the time you and Ellie left the haunted house, she was out of breath, sweaty, and half dead.

“Never. Fucking. Again.”

; III

“That’s for like, five year olds.” Ellie muttered.

“Right, because parents trust a five year old with a sharp object.” You laughed, wielding a carving tool in your hand with two pumpkins on the counter in front of the both of you.

“You never know.”

“What’re you gonna make?” You questioned with almost a devilish grin, knowing Ellie did not wanna do this. “I don’t know yet..”

…

She turned her pumpkin around with a tiny smile on her face, and you glanced down at it, caught off guard. She made a portrait of Joel, and god was it good.

“You should make that into a profession..” you mumbled, glancing down at your pumpkin. It was a stick-figure Ellie that you knew she’d make of you for. Onto to the next one.

; IV

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” You asked, throwing a piece of popcorn into your mouth. Ellie shrugged from the corner of your eye and sat up. “I thought we were watching interstellar.”

“Ellie, we’ve seen that movie like 10 times..plus it’s Halloween, we should have like, a marathon or something.”

She immediately sat back, defeated. She let out a long sigh which caused you to smile and roll your eyes. “Drama queen.”

You could see Ellie’s mouth widen at your words as her brows furrowed, but she again, was defeated. So she stood silent.

Eventually, the two of you agreed on the movie ‘Saw X’, and you glanced over at Ellie who glanced over at you a few times.

Safe to say the night ended with Ellie in your arms, half asleep, drooling on you but also refused to sleep since she was convinced she’d have a nightmare about the movie.

“It wasn’t even that scary.” You said, caressing her auburn hair.

“You’re so full of shit.” Ellie said, smiling a bit once she heard you laugh in response.

#castasplla #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie x y/n

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tainsan · 6 months

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misfits XII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: kiss scene :O, mentions of suicide, swearing, anxiety

⇥ word count: 14.1k

⇥ a/n: i'm sorry for my poor updating schedule, ive been going through some things at home and also a major burnt out. i hope you can understand and thank you to all those who are still excited for the new chapters :)

⇢ masterlist ⇠

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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Just as you finish hanging up the final clothing piece into your closet, you take a moment to truly appreciate the full cupboard, never having seen your closet this full before. At that moment you realise you still need to buy undergarments, forgetting it completely at the shopping mall. Perhaps you can go with Jisung, then you also have a chance to talk to him and tell him how everything went. All of a sudden a soft aroma of garlic and herbs wafts through the air, filling up your room with a comforting embrace.

Yunho, his sleeves rolled up, moves gracefully around the kitchen, the familiar dance of cooking a symphony he knew by heart. Pots clinked, knives whispered against cutting boards, and the sizzle of food met the occasional hum of a tune he hummed to himself. Today, however, was different. Today, the melody of his culinary creations carried a silent promise, a melody meant only for you.

Meanwhile, in your room, you find yourself lost in thought, your mind wandering about how on earth you are going to break the news to Jisung, without him breaking the sound barrier with his scream. Yet, the delicious smell of food snaps you out of your deep thoughts.

The minutes tick by and you find yourself becoming increasingly curious of what is being made in the kitchen. The tantalising aroma was difficult to ignore, its invisible tendrils weaving a spell that beckons you towards the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, you finally venture out of your room, your gaze immediately drawn to the source of the mouth watering scent. There Yunho is focused and intent, his fingers moving with a practised ease as he deftly tosses the food in a pan.

Your steps carry a hint of caution, yet your curiosity prevails. You find yourself standing at the threshold of the kitchen, positioned right at the juncture of the three rooms that belong to you, Seonghwa, and Yunho. There, you observe Yunho with a sense of reverence, quietly taking in his presence and actions. Just then he looks up, and the surprise that paints his features is quickly replaced by a warm, genuine smile.

"Hey," he greets, the hum of the stove momentarily forgotten.

"Hey," you reply, unable to keep the smile from tugging at your lips.

Yunho quickly turns off the stove and walks toward you, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I hope you're hungry."

Titling your head, you are confused by his words, a question forming in your eyes. "Hungry for...?"

Yunho chuckles, a deep, melodious, beautiful sound that resonates within you. "Hungry for your favourite. The one meal I… refused to give you on your first night here." You notice the way Yunho cringes at himself, remembering the incident.

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, the realisation sinks in. "Wait, you're making it again?"

He nodded, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Yes, a peace offering, if you will."

Your heart swells, the gesture touching you deeply. "Yunho, you really don't have to,"

He delicately places a finger over your lips, effectively silencing any protests that might have arisen. In that moment, Yunho briefly brushes aside the sensation of your soft lips beneath his touch, focusing on his intent.

"I want to," he insists gently, his words carrying a weight of sincerity. The fleeting awareness of the texture of your lips doesn't escape him, but he remains steadfast in his purpose. "Besides," he continues, his expression earnest, "I figured I owe you this. It was a huge dickhead move."

His gesture sends your heart into a rapid rhythm, the gentle touch of his fingers against your lips igniting a flutter of butterflies that seems to take flight throughout your entire body. The sensation is electrifying, a mixture of excitement and nervousness that courses through your veins. In that fleeting moment, his touch holds a power to evoke emotions you hadn't anticipated, leaving you momentarily breathless and utterly captivated.

Gazing into his eyes, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the delicious aroma enveloping them. "I agree,” you laugh out before continuing, “thank you, Yunho."

Yunho's regret for his past actions becomes increasingly evident, a shadow that lingers in his eyes as he interacts with you. His earnest attempts to amend his past mistakes are palpable, and he dedicates himself to making things right and extending a heartfelt apology. You're not blind to his efforts, each gesture and word reflecting his determination to bridge the gap between you. His commitment doesn't go unnoticed by you; you see through the genuine sincerity in his actions.

The appreciation you feel is profound, as you recognize the depth of his remorse and his sincere desire to mend the bond that was strained. His willingness to take responsibility and make amends speaks volumes about the value he places on your connection, and you're moved by his unwavering dedication to repairing what was once broken.

“You know… I never hated you.” Yunho admits, with a sorrowful expression on his face, “I wanted to talk with you, I was going to wait a little longer but I just needed you to know.”

“What do you mean? I'm fairly certain you would feed me to a pool of starving piranhas.” You reply, a joking undertone to your words.

Sighing, Yunho runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head, his expression pained. "Back in high school… I thought you had left because you believed the rumours, even though the night before you said you would help. I was wrong about you. I didn't want to let anyone in again. I didn't want to get close to someone just to have them hurt us again."

You nod in understanding, remembering how guarded Yunho used to be. "I get it. You had your reasons for being cautious."

Yunho's eyes meet yours, and they're filled with regret, as he speaks his voice cracks, "I never knew the real reason. I had no idea you were dealing with so much pain, that you were grieving for your mother and brother. And I didn't even bother to ask. I judged you without knowing anything about your situation."

His words hang in the air for a moment. You can see the depth of his regret, and it's clear that he's carrying a heavy burden of guilt.

“Yunho,” you call the man's name, seeing he is starting to get slightly restless, “it’s okay. Like you said, the mind is a powerful thing. I don't blame you for thinking like that. I am so sorry, when my mom died I should've found you guys,”

“No, no. It is not your fault, tiny.” Yunho exclaims, moving closer to you, “we should have done better, I should have done better.”

“I understand you were hurt.”

“That doesn't validate my behaviour,”

With a delicate touch, the taller man's hands find their place on your face, his palms cradling your cheeks with a tenderness that's both reassuring and profound. The gentle pressure prompts you to lift your gaze, locking eyes with him.

The emotions that swim within his gaze are more intense than you've ever witnessed before; sincere, affectionate, and raw. They mirror the same love and intensity you remember from years ago, as if time hasn't dulled the depth of his feelings. In that moment, his embrace has a tangible effect on you, causing a gentle quiver in your knees.

The vulnerability and closeness shared between you create a connection that's both soothing and electrifying, a reminder of the powerful emotions that have always existed between you two.

Yunho's gaze turns tender as he looks at you, his tears now flowing freely. "I realised after the one trip to the store for your moisturiser, that I care about you a lot more than I let myself believe. I was so scared of letting someone in, of getting close to someone again, that I pushed you away."

Your heart aches at his vulnerability and his raw emotions. "Yunho..."

He interrupts you gently, his voice quivering, "Let me finish. I just… it’s eating me alive."

Yunho's voice trembles as he struggles to maintain eye contact, his emotions finally spilling out after years of being buried deep within him.

"All these years I was trying to find an excuse to hate you, to get you out of my mind but I just couldn’ t. I... I had finally started to open up to you," he begins, his words coming out in a shaky, broken cadence. "But then we ran into Danny at the store, and it just... it ruined everything." Yunho's voice cracks, and he takes a deep, ragged breath to steady himself.

You can see the pain etched on his face as he continues, his words laden with regret and sorrow. "Just as I allowed myself to open to you, I felt like I was losing you all over again. You didn't come home for a week, and I thought... I thought everything from four years ago was happening again.”

His admission is raw and vulnerable, and it tugs at your heart. You reach out and gently place a hand on his, offering support and understanding.

"Yunho," you say softly, your voice filled with empathy. "I had no idea how my absence was affecting you, and I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. I’m so sorry for putting you through this."

“It’s not your fault, tiny.” Yunho’s voice trembles as he speaks, “I… have this horrible vision in my head everytime I close my eyes. You on that rooftop breaking into pieces when we said we would be there for you. Fuck, I should’ve stayed and looked for you.”

Yunho looks at you with tears falling out of his eyes, and his grip on your hand tightens as if he's afraid you'll slip away once more. "I should have trusted you, believed in you. And I should have told you how I felt."

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, tears also starting to well up in your eyes. "Yunho, we can't change the past, but we can learn from it and move forward together. I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and I appreciate your honesty now."

A glimmer of hope flickers in Yunho's eyes as he meets your gaze. "Really?"

You offer him a warm, genuine smile. "Yes, really. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide your feelings anymore. We can work through this together. Get that vision out of your head, I’m here now that's all that matters."

Yunho visibly relaxes, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understanding and for forgiving me. I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Yunho," you murmur his name, the single syllable carrying a weight of emotion and longing. Tears fall out of your own eyes as you listen to his words, your emotions becoming far too much to bottle up. The intensity of the eye contact between you both only amplifies the effect, causing a gentle quiver to run through your legs, threatening to make your knees buckle under the weight of the moment. The connection you share in this instant feels almost overwhelming, as if the unspoken emotions between you are echoing in the space between your gazes.

Yunho inches closer, the charged atmosphere between you and Yunho creates a palpable tension that seems to envelop the space around you. Both of you are on the brink of something electrifying, drawn by an irresistible pull that transcends words. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment.

His gaze locks onto yours, the intensity in his eyes mirroring the depth of the emotions swirling within you. It seems as if your breaths synchronise, you feel the warmth of his proximity, a magnetic force that draws you closer and closer. It's as if time has stopped completely, allowing you to savour every heartbeat, every heartbeat that echoes the anticipation in your chest.

The space between your lips narrows, the distance between you diminishing with each heartbeat. The air feels charged with an almost tangible energy, and you can practically taste the closeness as your eyelashes brush against his skin. Every cell in your body seems attuned to his presence, and your heart races in response to the intimate connection that's about to be forged.

Just as your lips are about to meet in a moment of breathtaking intimacy, a sudden interruption fractures the enchanting spell that had woven around you. Jongho's voice breaks through the charged atmosphere, his innocent question about dinner piercing through the cocoon of intimacy you had created.

“Hey, when's dinner gonna be ready?"

The moment shatters, and the almost-kiss dissipates like mist in the wind as both you and Yunho jump away from each other, shocked by the sudden intrusion to your tender moment. Both you and Yunho are left suspended in the aftermath of what could have been. The emotions that had built up still linger, leaving you both with a sense of longing and a mixture of amusement at the unforeseen interruption.

Despite the interruption, the lingering tension and the unspoken emotions continue to reverberate between you two. The memory of that suspended moment remains etched in your mind, a testament to the unspoken bond that connects you and Yunho.

“Uh…” Yunho clears his throat as he rests against the counter, trying to regain his composure. Yet, the red faced, jittery expression he wears is a clear indicator for what might have been transpiring before Jongho entered the room, and he momentarily feels awfully guilty for stepping in on your moment. “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”

Yunho wipes his eyes and returns to his cooking duties, the clatter of utensils and the sizzle of ingredients filling the space as he carries on with the task at hand. Meanwhile, you opt to take a seat at the kitchen island, positioning yourself so that you have a clear view of him. Your gaze remains on him, watching his every move, the tension between you both still lingering in the air like an unspoken secret.

The intense atmosphere persists, the electricity of the almost-kiss still crackling beneath the surface. It's a noticeable presence, a reminder of the emotions that had surged between you just moments ago. Yet, despite the lingering tension, you make a conscious decision to tuck it away for now.

There is something intimate about watching Yunho work, a kind of vulnerability in seeing someone so capable and confident letting his guard down in the space you share.

Time seems to blur as you talk, about everything and nothing. He shares stories of his experiments in the kitchen, his culinary triumphs and disasters, causing an eruption of giggles to emit from you.

The story of him trying to cook pasta without water makes you almost topple over from your chair at the island, another wave of laughs erupting when you see the playfully offended look on his features.

“I had never cooked before!” Yunho exclaims, pointing a spatula at you, a pout evident on his features.

“I thought it was common sense to cook pasta in water?” You say, wiping away the tears from your eyes, “did you just put it in a frying pan with oil or something?”

“Yes?” Yunho admits, laughing at himself along with you.

"Actually," he begins as he gives you a small spoonful of the pasta sauce to taste, a twinkle in his eyes, "I used to cook for the guys a lot before we came here. They were my first official taste testers."

You grin as you take the spoon of the creamy sauce in your hand, "So, I'm guessing you've had plenty of practice."

“They have seen my best and worst meals, Wooyoung, Seonghwa and I cook a lot now,” he says, a tender expression on his face “but today is different. Today, this meal is just for you."

You put the spoon into your mouth, and it is a work of art, the flavours exploding on your taste buds like a symphony of tastes you can never get enough of.

"Is it good?" he asks, his gaze fixed on your reaction.

All you manage is a frantic nod, unable to speak as you savour the dish. When you finally find your voice, you look up at him with appreciation. "Yunho, this is amazing."

He chuckles, relieved by your response. "I'm glad you like it.”

With your fork suspended mid-air, you study Yunho closely. "You didn't have to do this, you know? But I'm really glad you did."

Leaning back against the counter, Yunho’s expression softens, a smile spreading across his features. "I know, but I wanted to. I wanted to make it up to you."

Putting your fork down, your eyes meet his. "You already did."

Yunho grins, a genuine, heartfelt expression that makes your heart flutter. "Good."

“I’ll call the boys to get down,” you say, standing up from your chair.

“___, wait,” Yunho calls out from his place behind the stove.

Turning to him, you raise your eyebrow gently, silently asking him to continue.

“Thank you.” Is all he says, “for accepting me.”

“Likewise, Yu.”

—

Finishing the meal amongst the eight men, the laughter filling the house, the conversations flowing effortlessly makes you feel alive. As the evening sun casts a gentle glow through the dining room windows, you realise that this simple meal was more than just food. It was a symbol of friendship, love, of understanding, and of a connection that has only grown stronger.

Now, the late-night hours cast a quiet stillness over your room, illuminated only by the soft glow of your desk lamp. The steady hum of your laptop fan provides a rhythmic backdrop as you focus on the assignment your professor had sprung upon you unexpectedly.

But despite your determined efforts, your mind remains ensnared by a web of thoughts, every keystroke a struggle against the memories of the almost-kiss shared with Yunho earlier in the kitchen. Your fingers dance across the keyboard, forming sentences and paragraphs, but your mind keeps drifting back to the intense atmosphere that had enveloped you both. The vivid recollection of his gaze locked onto yours, the almost-touch of your lips, and the way time had seemed to stand still, it's all etched into your mind like an indelible mark.

The cursor blinks on your screen, waiting for words that elude you. Your thoughts are a swirl of sensations, the memory of his proximity evoking an electric shiver that refuses to be ignored. You imagine what could have been if Jongho hadn't walked in, your mind painting vivid scenarios of a kiss that never happened. The tempting "what if" lingers like an unfinished melody, taunting you with unexplored possibilities.

A sudden, daring thought tugs at your consciousness, the idea of seeking out Yunho, of finishing what was nearly initiated in the kitchen. Yet, the notion feels bold, an uncharted territory you're hesitant to traverse. Your fingers hover above the keyboard, caught between caution and longing, your heart pounding in your chest. You don't want to come off as needy or pushy. You remind yourself that he likes you, yet it seems like you would be pushing an unspoken boundary set by yourself.

Frustration simmers, the assignment all but forgotten as your desire for resolution intensifies. Unable to bear the confines of your room any longer, you push away your laptop, rising from your seat with a mix of determination and trepidation.

The hallway outside your room offers a breath of fresh air, a fleeting relief from the weight of your thoughts. But just as you take a few steps, fate intervenes – Yunho emerges from his own room, swinging the door open with a determined force. Suddenly, the corridor feels an awful lot smaller, the tension that had driven you out now amplified in his very presence.

“Yunho,” his name slips from your lips like a whisper, laced with longing and vulnerability. The shared tension is palpable, the intense air heavy with unspoken emotions that hang between you. Your call for his name was all he needed to hear, the longing undertone obvious in your voice.

Yunho's response is almost instinctual, his strides purposeful as he bridges the distance between you. There's a shared understanding in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the shared longing that has brought you both to this moment. His hands reach for your face, his touch gentle yet tinged with urgency, and the next instant, his lips crash onto yours.

The collision of your mouths is an uncontainable release of the emotions that have been building, a fervent union that's both messy and desperate. Your back meets the wall with a soft thud, the sensation distant against the fervour of the kiss. His lips move against yours with a fierce tenderness, each touch a testament to the emotions that have long been simmering beneath the surface. It's a kiss that speaks of longing, desire, and unspoken words, a passionate confession of everything that words can't convey. In this shared moment, you both explore what could have been, pouring the unvoiced feelings into this raw and unfiltered connection. The kiss, messy yet loving, has brought you to the precipice of something uncharted and thrilling.

In a bold and decisive move, Yunho's lips remain locked onto yours as he gently pushes your body backward. The transition from the corridor to your room is seamless, his movements confident and calculated, as if he's familiar with every nook and cranny. His lips stay connected to yours, the kiss deepening in intensity, a passionate exchange that leaves no room for hesitation.

With a practised finesse, he navigates your room as if it were his own domain. His hands, once cradling your face, now slide down your arms, his touch electric against your skin. The door clicks shut behind you, leaving the outside world behind and creating a cocoon of shared desire within the confines of your room. Yunho's skillful manoeuvres paint a vivid picture of his determination and longing. It's as if he's been waiting for this moment, seizing it with a confidence that matches the unspoken emotions that have been building between you.

Guiding you further into your room, his lips never leaving yours, the air is heavy with electricity, the intensity of your connection noticeable. The sensations of his touch, the taste of his kiss, and the intoxicating feeling of his presence leave you both breathless and wanting more.

When you feel the edge of your bed hit the back of your calves, a slight stumble causes your balance to waver. Seizing the moment, Yunho's quick reflexes come into play. His strong arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer to him with a reassuring strength. In an effortless display of his capabilities, he lifts you up, your feet momentarily leaving the ground.

His actions are seamless and purposeful, his movements confident as he turns the two of you around. Before you know it, you're being lowered onto your bed, the softness of the mattress cushioning your fall. With a gentle yet firm touch, he guides you to rest atop him, your bodies now intimately aligned as you now lay to straddle his waist, your chest pressed flat against his.

The weight of your bodies pressed together is both comforting and electrifying, a tangible representation of the connection you share. Yunho's presence beneath you is a witness to his desire and the unspoken emotions that have been simmering between you.

Yunho's lips stay against yours, a rhythmic and intoxicating movement that ignites a surge of sensations. His kiss is accompanied by a daring exploration, as his tongue gently presses at the barrier of your lips. The moment you grant him access, the kiss transforms, deepening in both passion and intimacy. It's as if the floodgates have opened, allowing a torrent of emotions to surge between you, each touch of your lips amplifying the intensity of your shared desire.

The world beyond your room becomes a distant echo, the insignificance of the outside fading into oblivion. The entirety of your focus is now on this moment, on the sensations that ripple through your body with every brush of his lips.

Yunho's embrace remains tight, his arms encircling you in a cocoon of warmth and desire. One arm secures your lower waist, drawing you closer to him, while the other curves around your upper back. His hand anchors you at the nape of your neck, a touch that's both possessive and tender, as if he's afraid you might slip away from him.

In a swift yet graceful motion, Yunho once again shifts your positions. The world tilts and adjusts as he manoeuvres, and now he rests nestled between your legs, your back against the bed. The shift in your arrangement only serves to fuel the fire between you. The kiss becomes more fervent, igniting a blaze that courses through your veins, warming every inch of your body with an undeniable desire.

With every brush of his lips and every touch of his travelling hands, the intimacy deepens, and the connection between you two intensifies. It's a moment that transcends words, a silent conversation of longing and need that finds its expression in the press of your bodies and the rush of your kisses. In this stolen moment, you're both suspended in the midst of a passion that's both tender and consuming, aching to explore every corner of the uncharted territory that you were so scared of.

Time becomes an abstract concept, as minutes slip away unnoticed in the embrace of shared desire and pining. The sensation of Yunho's lips moving against yours, the taste of him, the heat of his body pressed against yours, it's as if the world outside your room ceases to exist. In this intimate space, the only thing that matters is the sensation of being wrapped up in each other, the only thing that matters is Yunho

Every touch, every stolen kiss, is evidence to the unspoken connection that binds you together. The taste of him on your lips is like a drug, an intoxicating elixir that you can't help but crave more of. The press of his body against yours ignites a fire that burns with an intensity you've never experienced before. It's as if all you need, all you want, is right here in this moment, in his arms.

With each passing second, you find yourself falling deeper into the abyss of your own desires. The taste of him, the intensity of his kisses, and the press of his body against yours create a symphony of sensations that you're powerless to resist. The feelings that swirl within you are a heady mixture of longing, lust, and possessiveness – emotions that take root and refuse to let go.

When his large hands slip slightly beneath your shorts, their warm touch against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. The sensation of his large hands massaging your hips lovingly creates a surge of desire that's almost overwhelming in its intensity. The sudden rush of lust catches you off guard, and a twinge of fear flits through your thoughts. What if you aren't good enough?

The sudden tenseness in your body doesn't go unnoticed by Yunho, as his lips part from yours, concern etching itself across his features. The sudden shift from intense desire to a cautious distance creates a palpable shift in the atmosphere.

“I am so sorry, did I go too far?” His worry is reflected in his gaze, and his question hangs in the air like a delicate thread, waiting for your response.

Your thoughts are a whirlwind, emotions swirling within you, and the weight of his question settles heavily on your shoulders. As you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself at a crossroads, torn between the yearning you feel and the need to address your own reservations.

“No, it’s not that.” You begin, and you see the man above you relax slightly, “I haven't really done anything like this in a while.” you hesitate in your words, “Seonghwa and I kissed yesterday…” you watch carefully for Yunho’s reaction as you admit what transpired yesterday between you and his older friend, however when Yunho stays calm, only a reassuring smile on his features, you realise he doesn't mind you kissed Seonghwa, so you continue, “I haven’t really done anything like this in a long time, let alone with this many emotions, it's a little new to me.”

Yunho lets your admission render in his brain, as he thinks of an adequate response.

“It’s okay, tiny. We don't have to do anything.” Yunho says, bringing his hand up to brush away a stray hair from your face. “I’m happy to just be here with you.”

“Can we maybe…” you begin, not quite having the confidence to voice your wishes.

“Go ahead, I won't judge you.”

“Can we just lay here, with each other?” you question, feeling an intense heat travelling up your neck, “and kiss a little?”

“You want to kiss me?” a playful smile tugs at the corner of Yunho's lips as he teases you, his fingers gently pinching your cheek. His touch is light, yet it carries a spark of mischief that's mirrored in his eyes. The delicate pinch elicits the most adorable reaction Yunho could imagine, your cheeks puffing out in embarrassment, a gesture that has Yunho’s belly blowing up with butterflies.

Caught between his teasing and your own bashfulness, you can't help but hide your face in your hands, seeking refuge from the playful banter. A soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound a warm melody that dances through the air.

The atmosphere shifts from intense desire to a lighter, more lighthearted mood, as his teasing draws out your natural charm.

“Of course we can, tiny. Warning you though, I might fall asleep.” Yunho responds before laying his head on your chest, hugging your side tightly.

Yunho's form cuddles into your side, a sense of disbelief washes over you. The events of the night feel like a dream, a surreal turn of events that you could never have predicted. The contrast between the man who was once distant and rude to you and the person now nuzzling against you is staggering, leaving you in a state of wonderment.

His presence, warm and comforting, feels almost too good to be true. The way he holds you close, like a puppy seeking comfort, is a stark difference from the impression he had initially left. It's a transformation that you can't quite wrap your mind around, leaving you in awe of the complexity of human nature and the potential for change.

As you lay side by side, the weight of the night's events lingers in the air, mingling with the comfort of his embrace. The stark difference between his previous demeanour and the person he is now raises questions in your mind. Could the others have hidden depths as well? Could they, too, harbour hidden facets of their personalities that have yet to be uncovered?

The intimacy and vulnerability you've shared with Yunho have opened up a world of possibilities. The walls that once separated you from each other have crumbled, revealing a new layer of understanding and connection. In this moment of quiet reflection, you can't help but wonder what other surprises await, both from Yunho and the others who share your living space.

Yunho's gentle breathing against your side indicates that he's gradually drifting into sleep, finding solace in your presence. As you bask in the quiet comfort of the moment, the sudden ding of your phone startles you. You instinctively reach for the device on your bedside table, your movements careful so as not to disturb the slumbering man beside you.

With your phone in hand, you illuminate the screen to reveal the new text message. As your eyes scan the words, a mixture of shock and apprehension washes over you, sending a shiver down your spine. The message contains something that leaves you both shaken and concerned, and you can't help but feel a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach as you read over the cryptic words.

‘Have fun with my boys. It won't last long. <;8’

The morning sun peeks through your curtains, a cascade of soft, golden light floods your room. You inhale deeply, savouring the warm aroma of the dawn, as you snuggle in the embrace of your fresh, crisp bed sheets. The faint melody of chirping birds reaches your ears through the open window, their songs leaving you with a sense of calmness. Meanwhile, the gentle caress of the cool breeze sends delightful shivers cascading down your skin, awakening every nerve, leaving goosebumps upon your skin. It took you very long to fall asleep last night, the cryptic message you received replaying in your mind.

It takes a fleeting moment to regain your bearings, and the chill from the open window prompts you to cuddle even deeper into your warmth of sheets. Yet, your efforts are briefly halted as you sense the comforting presence of another person beside you, an arm enveloping your torso in a secure embrace.

Turning your gaze to the unexpected warmth, you're momentarily taken aback. However, a wave of relaxation washes over you as you discover Yunho's relaxed sleeping image just inches from your face.

His face bears a slight puffiness, his lips softly parted, and his cheeks adorned with a gentle, rosy hue. His tousled hair covers his forehead, pointing in many directions, the image causes a fond smile to grace your lips.

At this moment, you still find yourself struggling to fully comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanour. You are most definitely not unhappy with his change, yet you do realise it will take some getting used to.

Staring at Yunho for a few moments longer, it suddenly occurs to you that you must get up and ready for school, Yunho, and the strange message temporarily leaves your thoughts. You make a cautious attempt to extricate yourself from the slumbering presence beside you, but as you shift, he stirs in his sleep, responding by drawing you even closer, nuzzling his nose into the curve of your neck.

In a soft, raspy voice, Yunho murmurs, "Don't go yet," sending a flurry of butterflies swirling through your stomach. His face remains nestled against your neck, his breath fanning your skin, causing goosebumps to rise up your neck.

“I have to get ready,” You attempt to say, trying to ignore the way his raspy voice sends shivers down your spine.

“Please stay.” Yunho mumbles and you can almost feel the pout upon his lips.

“I have to, Yunho.” You say, holding in a fond giggle as you see him desperately tug onto you.

“Okay,” he mumbles, the pout on his face increasing as he turns around fully, grumbling into the pillows. A soft laugh escapes your lips as you tenderly ruffle his hair, and with a lingering glance, you reluctantly leave the room, making your way to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, your eyes lock onto Wooyoung, and a pleasant surprise lights up your face. Normally not an early riser, spotting Wooyoung in the morning brings an immediate smile to your lips. Beside him stands Jongho, whose presence you had anticipated. They engage in a lively conversation, genuine smiles gracing their features.

You take a moment to observe the pair, noting the relaxed way they chuckle together, the tender glances they exchange, and how their bodies naturally gravitate towards each other. It's a sight that warms your heart.

You realise that you haven't had a proper chance to talk with Jongho since he approached you at school to settle the conflict with your eight roommates. As you approach them, your heart quickens at the way their faces light up upon noticing you.

Jongho's voice, soft and affectionate, calls out your name, leaving no doubt about the warmth of his feelings.

“Where are you off to? I thought your lessons started in the afternoon?” Wooyoung asks, and for some reason you sense a trace of sadness in his tone, you aren't sure as to why it is there.

“I’m going to see Jisung, we want to have breakfast together.” You reply, sending a curious look in Wooyoung's direction, to which he avoids eye contact and immediately looks away from you, playing with the mug in front of him, causing your curiosity to further intensify. Looking over at Jongho, you notice he also has a trace of curiosity lining his features.

“No breakfast with us today?” Jongho asks, a joking pout upon his lips.

“Not today, I’m sorry.” you answer, offering him a warm smile to which Jongho seems to take well.

You head to the refrigerator, retrieving a bottle of water, all the while keeping an eye on Wooyoung. His unusual quietness doesn't escape your notice; he appears deeply engrossed in his mug, his typical remarks conspicuously absent. It leaves a noticeable void in the atmosphere, and concern gnaws at you, wondering what might be weighing on his mind and making the space feel somewhat strange.

Just as you muster the courage to inquire about what might be bothering Wooyoung, he abruptly rises from his seat and strides toward the room's exit, heading upstairs. A rush of unease and apprehension washes over you, leaving you feeling suddenly upset and anxious about the abrupt change in his demeanour. For a fleeting moment, you think that you might be the cause, given that he had been perfectly fine just moments before you entered the room.

In response to your unspoken worries, Jongho speaks up, his voice tinged with a touch of concern. "He's fine, ____," he reassures you. "Don't worry."

With a subtle nod, you retreat back into your room, your heart pounding with an unsettling intensity. Fear creeps under your skin like an unwelcome guest. Does Wooyoung no longer have feelings for you? Was his previous confession a mistake? You stand there, facing the closed door, locked in a battle of uncertainty, wondering if you should muster the courage to return and seek answers, all the while grappling with the unsettling unease that has wrapped around you.

The abrupt interruption of your thoughts by your ringing phone startles you. You hastily glance at your bedside table, realising it's responsible for stirring the sleeping giant in your bed, Yunho. For a moment, you'd forgotten he was still there, and you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him, cozied up to one of your stuffed toys. It appears that Yunho is quite the cuddlebug.

Rushing over to your phone, you fumble to silence the ringing, determined not to rouse the slumbering man beside you. As you answer, it's Jisung's voice that greets you on the other end of the line.

"Hey, Ji, what's up?" you whisper, trying to keep your voice low.

"Hey! Why are you whispering?" Jisung's curiosity cuts through the speakers, tinged with a hint of excitement.

You attempt to offer a nonchalant response, although you're not particularly skilled at lying. "No reason, it's just early."

"Okay… we're still meeting in an hour, right?" Jisung inquires, thankfully not probing further into your behaviour.

"Yeah, I just need to shower quickly," you assure him.

"Alright, see you in a bit!" Jisung quickly hangs up, and you can't help but smile at his somewhat chaotic nature.

With your phone now silent, you turn your attention back to the peacefully sleeping Yunho, who seems to have settled even more comfortably with your stuffed toy. You can't help but admire his endearing cuddly side, a stark contrast to the confident and mature persona he often displays. With a warm smile on your face, you prepare to get ready to see Jisung.

Strolling down the pebbled path, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps crunching under the stones echoes softly in the serene surroundings. Your eyes scan the familiar landscape until they land on your best friend, nestled beneath the sprawling canopy of a large blossoming tree. He is deeply engrossed in his notebook, pen dancing across the pages as he pours his thoughts into words. It was a familiar sight, your friend lost in the world of his creativity, likely penning lyrics for another one of his songs.

You had always held a deep appreciation for his creative side. His lyrics and melodies had an uncanny ability to resonate with you, often touching the chords of your own emotions. Each song he crafts is like a piece of his soul laid bare, and you are fortunate to be one of the few who could witness the birth of these lyrical masterpieces. You are then reminded of Mingi and his own creativity. Mingi and Jisung would definitely get along.

Approaching quietly so as not to disrupt his flow, you watch him for a moment. The rays of sunlight filtering through the blossoms above cast gentle patterns of light and shadow over him, accentuating the intent look on his face. His fingers tapping the notebook rhythmically as if coaxing the words from his heart.

Your heart swells with pride for your friend's artistic talents. It was moments like these, witnessing his creative process, that reminded you of the depth of your bond. As he continues to write, you can’t help but smile.

"Hey Ji," you say softly, now standing close enough for him to notice your presence beneath the blossoming tree.

Jisung's head shoots up from his notebook, surprise flickering across his face before breaking into a wide grin.

"Hey!" He closes the notebook and sets it aside, inviting you to join him in the small patch of shade beneath the tree.

You ease yourself onto the ground beside him, the grass feeling cool and inviting. The delicate scent of blossoms fills the air, and you inhale deeply, savouring the moment.

"What's the inspiration today?" you ask, gesturing to his notebook.

Jisung's eyes twinkle with excitement as he leans in closer, as though sharing a secret.

"I've been thinking about that road trip we took last summer, you know, the one to the coast? The waves crashing against the shore, the salt in the air… It's all coming together in my mind."

Your heart flutters with nostalgia at the mention of that memorable journey. You notice Jisung is in a sentimental mood, like he is most of the time when he writes, causing you to feel yourself falling into the same mood. It has always been alien to you how much your and Jisung’s moods can mirror each other.

"I remember it very well," you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. "That sunset was insane.”

Jisung questions you, his eyes wide and sparkling, “what was your favourite part? I need more inspiration.”

You ponder on your thoughts, recalling the trip, “probably when we had that huge bonfire, and you were determined to roast marshmallows, but the fire was way too wild and you almost burnt off your eyebrows.”

Jisung lets out a loud laugh, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday.

You continue, “the smell of the sea, the fresh air. The feeling of freedom...”

Jisung's gaze softens as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with gratitude.

"Exactly, ____," he whispers. "Those moments, those feelings, nostalgia and feeling free. They're all part of this song."

You can't help but feel touched by his words. It's as if he has a unique ability to capture the emotions and shared experiences and make them into melodies.

"Well I’m very grateful you love me so much to make a song out of it,” Jisung chuckles before nudging your shoulder with his own. You continue talking, “your songs have a way of making memories even more special," you tell him.

He laughs modestly, running his hand through his hair. "I guess I have a good way of turning what I feel into words."

“That's what makes you special.”

The two of you sit in companionable silence for a moment, taking in the serenity of the blossoming tree and the memories it holds. It's a place you both frequently visit, a spot of quiet reflection amidst the hustle and bustle of life. The tree’s delicate petals dance in the breeze

Jisung offers you a warm smile as he passes you a croissant. Jisung had brought a small picnic with him, a collection of your favourite snacks and a thermos of hot coffee to ward off the slight chill in the air. The two of you used to do this all the time when you first started this school. The story of your friendship with Jisung traced its origins back to the very first day of university, a day etched in your memory for its mix of confusion and chance.

It had been a chaotic morning. You were a wide-eyed freshman, clutching a stack of textbooks and notebooks to your chest like a lifeline. The huge university campus had felt like a labyrinth, and you had no idea where to find your first class. In your quest for the dean's office, where you hoped to get directions, you navigated through a sea of students, your nerves escalating with every passing minute.

Jisung, on the other hand, had always been something of a whirlwind. He had a tendency to be lost in thought, even while navigating the bustling campus. On that fateful morning, his mind had been consumed by thoughts of class schedules, room numbers, and the whirlwind of university life, along with the gentle hum of music through his headphones.

And so, it happened. You both collided in the weirdest way. You, with your arms full of books and your gaze locked on a campus map, didn't see him coming. Jisung, equally oblivious, was deep in thought, head buried in his own class schedule.

The impact was both comical and chaotic. Books scattered like confetti, your class notes tumbled to the ground, and Jisung's schedule ended up in a similar state of disarray.

For a moment, you both stared at each other, shocked and disoriented. Your books lay in a haphazard pile at your feet, and Jisung's papers fluttered around you like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind.

"I'm so sorry!" the blonde male manages to blurt out, scrambling to pick up his errant schedule. "I didn't see you there. Are you okay?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. "I think so. Are you okay?"

He flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah, just a bit scattered. First day jitters, you know?"

Both gathering your belongings, you realised that this stranger who had literally bumped into your life might be your saving grace on this bewildering first day.

"I'm actually looking for the dean's office," you admitted, your voice tinged with embarrassment. "I'm completely lost."

Jisung's expression brightens as he extends a hand to help you up. "No worries! I'm headed there, too. We can find it together."

From that moment, your friendship with Jisung began to take root. He became your guide through the maze-like university campus, showing you the ropes, introducing you to his group of friends which you found out they were all from the same highschool, and sharing in the ups and downs of the university journey.

The blossoms continued to fall around you, a reminder that even amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, beautiful friendships could bloom from the most unexpected collisions.

"Isn't this place just magical?" Jisung exclaimed, his eyes scanning the pink and white canopy above. "I can't believe we're graduating this year."

You nodded, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Graduation was indeed on the horizon, and it brought with it a mix of excitement and nostalgia. You cherished these moments with Jisung, knowing that they were soon to become cherished memories.

“You look better, ____. I’m glad the talk went well.” Jisung smiles at you and you recall the talk you had a few days ago. You feel grateful that Jisung doesn't pry for knowledge.

As you nibble on the croissant, you realise you owe your best friend an explanation of what happened, so you muster up the courage to speak about the topic that had been gnawing at you for a few days.

"Jisung," you began, your voice soft and hesitant, "there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turns to you, his eyes filled with genuine concern. "Of course, anything. You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Taking a deep breath, you decided to dive right in. "It's about the boys. They... they said they have feelings for me, romantic feelings."

The words hung in the air, and the rustling of leaves seemed to hush in anticipation. Jisung's gaze remained steady, his expression an anchor in the sea of emotions swirling within you. There is a visage of shock upon his features, yet he doesn't speak.

"They've all been so kind and caring," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deny that I've grown close to them, too."

Jisung nods slowly, processing your confession. "I see. That's quite a situation. But that also proves how awesome and lovable of a person you are."

You sigh, a mix of emotions welling up inside you. "I appreciate that, but... I'm scared, Jisung. Scared to give an answer. Scared of hurting them or losing the friendships we've built."

Jisung reaches out and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding you in the moment. "It's natural to be afraid, especially when it involves the hearts of people you care about. But you can't let that fear paralyse you

You meet his gaze, finding comfort in his wisdom. "But what if I say yes and it ruins everything? What if I say no, and it still changes everything?"

Jisung chuckles softly, his voice carrying a sense of understanding. "Life is full of uncertainties, ____. But it's also full of opportunities for growth and love. You don't have to have all the answers now. Take your time, communicate openly with them, and trust that the bonds you've built can withstand these challenges."

Sipping your coffee, the warmth spreads through you, you can’t help but be grateful for Jisung's presence and wisdom. Jisung, always open and honest, begins to share his own experiences. He speaks about his own relationship, how it hasn’t always been perfect, but how it had thrived because both he and Minho were willing to work through the challenges.

"Love, whether it's romantic or platonic, requires effort," Jisung says, his voice gentle but firm. "It's about understanding, compromise, and a willingness to grow together. Sometimes, things get tough, but it's the willingness to work through those tough times that truly defines a relationship."

You listen intently, savouring his words. His insights shed light on the complexities of love and the importance of communication.

"As for the boys," Jisung continues, "they care about you deeply, and it's clear that you care about them, too. Take the time to understand your own feelings, communicate openly, and remember that love has a way of finding its own path."

"Thank you, Jisung. I knew you'd have the right advice."

He gives you a warm smile, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. "That's what best friends are for, isn't it? Though I can’t say I'm not jealous."

“What are you saying?” You laugh, questioning his words.

“The Park Seonghwa likes you, along with all of them. They are very good looking.”

“That’s not the reason I like them, idiot. Their looks are just a huge bonus.”

“Okay, okay.”

A mischievous spark dances in your eyes as you decide to inject a playful twist into the conversation. "We kissed."

You delivered the words with a deadpan expression, your voice laced with just the right amount of nonchalance. It was a statement so out of context that you knew it would elicit a humorous reaction from your best friend.

Jisung's eyes widened in surprise, his composed posture coming to an abrupt halt. He blinked at you, clearly taken aback by the unexpected revelation. "What, you kissed Park Seonghwa?" Jisung almost screams as he hears your words.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, all the while trying to shush him in case someone overhears the conversation.

"Jisung you need to learn to control your volume levels," You laugh.

Jisung suddenly scurries towards you on his knees, a mischievous look plastered on his features.

“With tongue or without?” he whispers, as if he is a kid in highschool talking about their first kiss.

“Grow up Jisung,” You laugh loudly at his immature question, Jisung also falling backwards, laughing at himself.

Jisung lets out a dramatic sigh, placing a hand over his heart. "I need to know if I have to buy a suit and a fancy hat for the wedding."

“We are not getting married now, and if you turn up at my wedding with a fancy hat I will not let you in.”

“My fashion ideals are beyond your comprehension.” Jisung rolls his eyes whilst crossing his arms.

Eventually, Jisung turns to you, his eyes filled with curiosity as he seemingly remembers something. "So, what had you whispering into the phone earlier?" he asks, suddenly he gets overly excited, “Did you sleep with Seonghwa?”

You can't help but blush, feeling somewhat exposed. Jisung knows you well, and secrets between you two are a rarity. "We did not," you reply with a grin. "I was whispering because I might've woken Yunho, but it turned out fine."

“Wait, Yunho? I thought you guys weren't on great terms,”

“Well, he apologised, very well I might add. He made my favourite meal then… we almost kissed in the kitchen, it was intense, you would have screamed Ji. But then Jongho walked in…”

“Ugh, homewrecker,” Jisung rolls his eyes, getting annoyed that Jongho ruined the moment, yet he cannot seem to stay mad at Jongho, seeing as he had become rather fond of him after the confrontation the other day.

“Ji, he just walked in at the wrong time,” you exclaim, slightly exasperated but laughing gently, “Well, in the evening I couldn't sleep because of it so I went to go find Yunho.”

“Did you guys have sex?” Jisung almost screams, getting way too invested in your story.

Panic surged through you as soon as those words slipped from Jisung's lips. You knew the topic of your roommates and their romantic feelings was something that needed to be kept under wraps, at least for now. You hastily reached out and clamped your hand over Jisung's mouth, your eyes wide with urgency.

"Shh! Jisung, not so loud." you whisper urgently, your voice barely more than a hushed breath. You shot a quick glance around, making sure no one was within earshot.

Jisung's eyes widened in realisation, and he nodded as best as he could beneath the constraint of your hand. You slowly removed your hand, ensuring that the coast was clear before continuing the conversation in a hushed tone.

"We can't let anyone overhear us," you explained quietly. "It's... a complicated situation, and I don't want to cause any unnecessary drama." You say, laughing, but also exasperated by your bestfriends words. “And no, we didn’t.”

“Oh, I forgot that you’re gonna be a virgin for life,”

“The only reason I'm still a virgin, is because I would have to lose my V card and I never lose. I’m not a loser, I'm too sexy and macho…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay.”

You two stay silent for a few moments, before bursting into laughter. As the two of you sit together beneath the blossoming tree, you're reminded once again of the connections that enrich your life. Whether it's sharing creative inspirations with Jisung or quietly embracing moments of friendship, these bonds make life's journey all the more beautiful. The delicate blossoms above seem to nod in agreement, as if nature itself acknowledges the preciousness of these connections.

For a second, you wonder if you should speak to Jisung about the weird message you received last night, then it seems as if Jisung remembers something, his eyes lighting up for a second, causing you to momentarily forget your concerns.

“I am going to a cute cafe this afternoon with Minho and this girl we met at the mall yesterday. You finish at three today, right. Do you maybe want to come?”

“Mall? I was also there yesterday, I didn't see you guys.”

“Oh, really? That’s so weird, we were mostly in the game stores.”

“Hmm, that’s why,” you nod in agreement, “but sure that sounds fun.”

“I'll meet you at the East exit then, we will meet them there.”

“Sounds good!”

The final lecture of the day concluded, and you couldn't have been more eager to meet up with Jisung at the east wing as planned. As you made your way there, your anticipation grew, and your steps quickened.

True to his nature, Jisung arrived with his usual bright smile, his infectious enthusiasm immediately lifting your spirits. His friendly hug was a warm embrace that signified the beginning of another memorable outing.

"Hey!" he greeted cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I hope you're ready for some quality time with your favourite person."

Returning his smile, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the day ahead. "Absolutely," you replied, matching his enthusiasm and returning his smile, genuinely looking forward to catching up with Jisung and Minho.

Honestly, you are slightly afraid to meet the new person that Jisung said was coming, you sometimes get awkward meeting new people, so you hope you can find some common interests with them to start a flowing conversation.

Walking together to the cafe, Jisung fills you in on what's been happening in his life, since you told him about yourself in the morning. He talks about his recent adventures, college life, and the projects he and Minho have been working on. Your conversation flows effortlessly, and you feel lucky to have Jisung. Attentively listening to his words, you walk side by side towards the cafe.

“You’re going to love it here, I’ve seen this place all over TikTok.”

Upon arriving at the cafe, you spot Minho already there, sitting with a girl who must be the girl they met at the mall. As you approach, Minho's face lights up, and he stands to greet you with a warm hug.

"Hey, ____, you look great. I'm glad you're feeling better.” Minho says quietly in your ear, his words full of genuine care.

You reciprocate the hug, feeling instantly welcomed by Minho's friendly demeanour, him not being big on hugs, you relish in the fact he gave you one so carefreely.

“Thank you, Minho."

When you part from the hug, you notice the sandy blonde haired girl sitting across from Minho and you put your full attention towards her. She offers you a polite smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

"Hello, nice to meet you, You must be ____." She says, her words pleasant enough, but her tone seems a touch distant, even with a trace of something behind her words, yet you can't quite distinguish what it is.

You take a seat next to Minho, feeling a bit uncertain about the girl’s demeanour.

“That’s me!” You reply, trying to keep positive and lively.

“I’m Ryuha,”

Nodding back, you offer her a smile, and you can't help but notice the way her smile falters ever so slightly. Nevertheless, you continue to hold conversation. Perhaps she is shy around new people.

The small, cosy café gives a warm buzzing atmosphere, the usual clatter of cups and the soft hum of conversations surround you, yet despite the comforting ambience, the vibe that Ryuha is emitting leaves you feeling extremely weird.

As you take a sip of your drink, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn your attention to Ryuha. Her presence has been somewhat enigmatic since she arrived, and her dismissive attitude towards you has piqued your interest to say the least. Leaning in slightly, your eyes meet hers, and you can’t help but ask, "So are you going to school around here?"

Ryuha's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you for a moment before she replies, "No, just visiting here. I go to school by the west coast." Her voice was smooth and measured, but her gaze held an intensity that left you somewhat uneasy.

"That's nice," you continue, trying to keep the conversation flowing and hoping she will warm up to you. "Any reason why you're here?" A warm smile accompanies your words, an attempt to break the ice and bridge the gap that seemed to separate the two of you.

Ryuha's response, however, was far from welcoming. She maintains eye contact with Minho and Jisung, her tone noticeably more pleasant when she answered, "Oh, just exploring a bit, meeting some friends." It was as if an invisible wall had been erected between you and her, and she seemed perfectly content with keeping it firmly in place.

Ryuha continues to engage in the conversation, but something about her body language strikes you as off. While she appears friendly with her words, her eyes occasionally give you a subtly scrutinising look, almost as if she's sizing you up. As the conversation progresses, Ryuha makes comments that are laced with passive-aggressiveness. She offers what seem like compliments, but her tone and expressions suggest otherwise.

For instance, when you mention your recent accomplishments, she responds with, "That's impressive," but her raised eyebrow and faint scowl make it clear she doesn't entirely mean it. Or when Jisung complimented your outfit and she replied with, “it's definitely…unique.” Again when you mention a book you are enjoying, and she says, “that’s not my cup of tea, but everyone has their own tastes.”

When the third passive-aggressive comment slips from Ryuha's lips, a subtle but growing sense of irritation begins to gnaw at you. You can’t help but feel a bit upset, wondering why she seemed so fixated on you, creating an atmosphere of discomfort.

Ryuha's persistent comments left you feeling isolated, as if she had singled you out for some unknown reason. It puzzled you why she would choose to be passive-aggressive with you, while her interactions with Jisung and Minho were filled with kindness.

Despite the growing unease, you opted to maintain your composure. You weren't one to engage in confrontations, especially with someone you had just met. Instead, you focused on the positive aspects of the gathering, cherishing the time spent with Jisung and Minho, and hoping that the mysterious tension created by Ryuha's comments would eventually dissipate.

It is when the subject of dating comes up that Ryuha suddenly seems awfully curious all of a sudden.

Ryuha leans in slightly, her tone carrying a touch of curiosity as she asks, "So, do you have any boyfriends?"

Jisung, ever the friendly and open one, began to answer, "Well, she—"

But you do not let him finish. Something about Ryuha's tone and the way she had been subtly probing throughout the conversation put you on edge. You met Ryuha's gaze with a polite yet guarded expression, deciding to take control of the narrative.

"I'm not seeing anyone at the moment," you reply evenly, your words carefully chosen. It wasn't that you were opposed to sharing, but you had a gut feeling that Ryuha might have ulterior motives for gathering such information. Your trust wasn't easily earned, and you weren't about to hand over personal details to someone you had just met.

“Interesting.”

Jisung, catching on to your hesitation, offers a supportive nod and changes the topic, steering the conversation toward lighter subjects. Ryuha, though her curiosity remained apparent, seemed to respect your boundaries, at least for the time being.

“How about you?” You ask, trying to continue the conversation and ignore the awkward atmosphere that has shaped around you.

“I’m not seeing one at the moment, but I’m interested… they will likely be mine soon.”

Ryuha's eyes locked onto yours with an unwavering intensity, the sudden wave of confidence in her statement became overwhelmingly intimidating. It was as if she possessed an uncanny ability to dissect your thoughts and emotions, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. At that moment, you are almost certain that there is something behind her cryptic comments.

Glancing over at Minho, who is seated next to Ryuha, you cannot help but notice the baffled and almost disgusted expression on his features. It makes you bite back a smile when you realise it is clear that he has caught onto Ryuha's dismissive and rude behaviour. Seeing his reaction provides reassuring confirmation that you weren't imagining things, Ryuha was indeed being impolite and disrespectful.

The silent acknowledgement between you and Minho serves as a small source of solace amidst the uncomfortable atmosphere created by Ryuha's demeanour. It is a silent reminder that you weren't alone in your assessment of the situation, and that there was validity in your discomfort.

Yet, when you shift your gaze to Jisung, who is still lively and enthusiastically chatting with Ryuha, it becomes evident that he has not caught on to her behaviour. His obliviousness to the underlying tension provides a stark contrast to Minho's reaction, highlighting the complexity of the situation.

The conversation flows, yet you cannot shake the feeling that there was more to Ryuha's inquiries than simple curiosity. You decide to stay cautious and trust your instincts when it comes to sharing personal information, especially with someone whose intentions remain shrouded in mystery.

Throughout the conversation, you notice that Ryuha's attention frequently drifts away whenever you speak. It's as though she's dismissive of your words, and you can't help but feel a growing sense of discomfort. Her actions don't align with the polite facade she maintains with her words.

Despite her subtle rudeness, you remain polite and try to engage in the conversation as best as you can. It's important to you that you make a good impression and enjoy this time with Jisung, Minho, and their friend, even though Ryuha's presence remains a mysterious and somewhat uncomfortable aspect of the gathering.

It takes an hour for the gathering at the cafe to come to an end, you have to stop Minho twice from saying something back to Ryuha as she issues yet another passive aggressive comment in your direction. You would rather not have to face a conflict in the middle of a bustling cafe.

The moment you step out of the café and feel the cool breeze on your skin, it is as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The atmosphere inside had been heavy with tension, and the sense of relief outside is a welcome change. You take a deep breath, savouring the crispness of the afternoon air.

Turning to leave, you are taken aback when Ryuha turns toward you, her sharp gaze still fixed on you. She speaks, her voice smooth and confident, with a hint of something you can’t quite place. "It was nice to meet you, finally," she says, her words hanging in the air.

You furrow your brow, utterly perplexed by her statement. The two of you had never met before today, and you were sure of it. What does she mean by "finally"? You can’t help but wonder if there had been some misunderstanding.

"I mean, Jisung told me so much about you yesterday," Ryuha continues, her tone carrying a sense of familiarity that left you feeling slightly out of place. Her words added to the growing puzzle, as you tried to reconcile her earlier dismissive attitude with this newfound knowledge.

“Anyways, I have places to be. There’s something important I need to do.”

Her enigmatic behaviour continues, leaving you with more questions than answers. Watching as she exchanges warm goodbyes with Minho and Jisung, you cannot help but notice that she doesn’t bid you farewell, further deepening the mystery surrounding her intentions.

“Holy shit, remind me to never meet with her again.” Minho exclaims as soon as he sees Ryuha out of earshot.

“What? She was so nice.” Jisung says, confused to what Minho is saying.

“I’m sorry babe, but you have to have your head up your ass to not see she was a raging bitch. Are you okay?” Minho asks as he turns towards you, scanning you for any trace of discomfort.

“Minho what are you saying? What happened?” Jisung questions, oblivious to the situation.

“It's nothing Ji, she was just kind of off.” You reply, not wanting to start something yet also getting slightly irritated at Jisung’s way to easily trust people.

“Wait, was she?” Jisung questions, yet starting to believe you, seeing as he knows you are able to see through most people.

“She was weird as fuck, almost a pick me, ew.” Minho contributes, a disgusted look on his face, which almost makes you laugh.

“I don't know, I thought she was nice.”

“You're just going to have to trust us, she was strange,” Minho replies.

“Okay…then I hate her. If you don't like her neither do I.”

Laughing gently, you feel grateful for Jisung’s complete understanding. The three of you start to walk towards your respective homes.

“Do you know what is even weirder?” You say after a few moments of silence, judging by the curious looks on your friends face, you decide to continue, “she is so familiar, yet I cannot for the life of me put a name, place, to a face.”

“Creepy.” Minho says, with another disgusted face.

“Maybe you met her before and you were mean?” Jisung adds before correcting himself, “nevermind, I don't think you've been mean to anyone in your life.”

Minho hums in agreement before going deep into contemplation, then speaking once more, “Whatever it is, hopefully we never see her again.”

All you can do is nod in agreement, a profound sense of gratitude filling your body.

After entering the house, you automatically kick off your shoes and hang your coat, a familiar routine that brings a sense of normalcy to your day. However, something catches your attention, something that doesn't quite fit the usual order of things.

The basement door stands slightly ajar.

Your brow furrows in confusion because you distinctly recall that this door is typically kept shut. In fact, you've walked past it countless times without giving it much thought, almost forgetting the existence of a basement altogether. It's a part of the house that you haven't had the chance to explore since moving in.

A wave of curiosity washes over you, particularly as you recollect the conversation you had with Wooyoung and Yeosang about converting the basement into a movie room. With the day's confusing events and the strange messages gnawing at your nerves, the idea of seeking some comfort becomes rather appealing. The prospect of losing yourself in a movie before dinner sounds like a welcome distraction from the mysteries of the day.

Tentatively, you push the basement door open wider, the hinges creaking softly as if revealing a long forgotten secret. The descent into the basement is dimly lit, and as you take the first step, your heart races with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

The air grows cooler as you make your way downstairs, and you're struck by the transformation of the basement. The space has been meticulously converted into a cosy movie room, complete with plush bean bags, cushions, and a projection screen that spans one of the walls. The soft, warm glow of fairy lights traces the contours of the room, casting a magical ambiance that feels like a comforting embrace. The aroma of freshly popped popcorn hung in the air, adding an inviting touch to the atmosphere.

Strolling through the room, your eyes take in every detail of its inviting setup. In the midst of the warm ambiance, you spot Wooyoung. He is lounging on a sofa, his back turned towards you, his gaze seemingly lost in deep contemplation. Approaching him, you can’t help but notice that the usual playfulness that usually defines him has been somewhat subdued. It is a stark contrast to the vibrant, charismatic Wooyoung you had grown accustomed to.

A soft, genuine smile graces your lips as you greet him, your voice carrying a soothing undertone that seemed to resonate with the room's tranquillity. "Hey, Wooyoung."

He turns to look at you, slightly surprised by your presence, yet his smile is warm but tinged with a hint of melancholy.

"Hey muffin," he replies, his eyes holding a depth you have not seen before.

Taking a seat beside him, you turn to face him, “How has your day been?” You attempt to strike up a conversation, excitement evident in your tone. You haven't had much alone time with Wooyoung, you are excited for this time together.your concern evident in your eyes.

“It was fine,” he replies, his smile not reaching his eyes, like it usually does.

"Is something bothering you?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine worry. "You've seemed a bit different lately."

Sinking into the plush couch in the dimly lit movie room, a strange sense of unease washes over you. It's as if the comforting embrace of the room has given way to an eerie feeling of vulnerability. The malicious messages you have been receiving, the slightly ajar basement door, and now this unsettling thought creep into your mind, and you can't help but feel a wave of fear.

Suddenly, your thoughts become a turbulent whirlwind, and a nagging doubt begins to gnaw at you. Could it be that Wooyoung, the one you had grown so close to, no longer has the same feelings for you? The idea takes root in your mind, and irrational fears start to twist your perception of reality.

You remember the somewhat subdued demeanour he displayed earlier in the kitchen. Your mind starts to interpret it as a sign of detachment, as though he's pulling away.

The warmth of the movie room, once so comforting, now feels like a suffocating cocoon of uncertainty. Your heart races, and a lump forms in your throat. What if it was all a mistake? What if your connection with Wooyoung was just a fleeting moment, destined to fade away?

In the dim light, your mind conjures up all sorts of scenarios, each one more distressing than the last. You want to shake off these irrational fears, to find solace in the familiar sanctuary of the movie room, but the grip of anxiety is relentless.

Wooyoung cuts off your thoughts by sighing softly, his gaze dropping momentarily before meeting yours and it seems as if he was reading your mind. "I still really like you, ____," he admits, his voice laced with vulnerability. "But... I'm a little scared."

His confession takes you by surprise, and you search his eyes for an explanation. "Scared? Of what?"

He runs a hand through his tousled hair, a habit of his when he is unsure of how to express himself. "I've always been flirty, you know? It's just who I am. But I've never felt this strongly about someone before, and it's... intimidating."

Your heart swells with understanding and compassion. Reaching out, you gently place your hand on his. "Wooyoung, you don't need to be afraid of your feelings. It's okay to care deeply about someone."

He seems relieved by your understanding but presses on. "I'm also afraid that you might see me as a playboy, or someone who's not interested in something serious because of how I act."

Shaking your head, you offered reassurance. "I don't see you that way, Wooyoung. People are complex. Your playful side doesn't define your capacity for something real and meaningful."

Wooyoung smiles tentatively, grateful for your words. "And there's something else," he admits, his voice softer. "Back in high school, I didn't talk to you much. I worry that you don't like me as much as the others because of that."

You let out a sigh, understanding his insecurity. "Wooyoung, it's not a competition. I care about all of you equally, and I have precious memories with each of you. High school was a long time ago, and people change. You've shown me a different side of you, and I appreciate it."

Wooyoung's smile grew wider, a mixture of relief and gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, muffin," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I needed to hear that."

Giving his arm a reassuring squeeze, you smile back at him.

"Anytime, Wooyoung. We're all here for each other, remember? I’m here for you."

Intertwining your fingers, Wooyoung holds onto your hand gently, the action making your heart race as you share a smile with him. The both of you settle back into the plush cushions, surrounded by the warm embrace of the fairy lights, you knew that this moment was a step towards a deeper understanding and connection.

"I really like you, Wooyoung." The words escape your lips in a whisper, soft and filled with sincerity, and it's as if the world around you holds its breath, waiting for his response. In that moment, everything seems to hang in the balance, your vulnerability exposed in the dimly lit movie room.

For Wooyoung, those words are a revelation, a cascade of emotions that threaten to overwhelm him. His heart flutters, and he feels a warmth spreading from deep within. It's a feeling he's been yearning for, yet never quite dared to voice.

"Thank you for liking me, all of you," you continue, your voice holding a gentle grace that resonates with him. It's a sentiment that he's been unable to express, a gratitude that goes beyond words.

“How can we not?”

Wooyoung hesitates for only a moment, his emotions too strong to contain. In one fluid motion, he pulls you close, enfolding you in a warm, earnest hug. The position is a bit awkward, given that you're both sitting, but at that moment, neither of you cares about comfort or convention.

Your bodies are pressed together, and it feels like an unspoken promise. In the embrace, there's a sense of completeness, of two souls finding solace in each other's presence. Tears well up in Wooyoung's eyes, and he holds you tighter, as if afraid that this beautiful moment might slip away. The dimly lit movie room bears witness to this intimate connection, the air filled with unspoken emotions.

In this tight embrace, you both find comfort, solace, and a shared understanding that goes beyond any uncertainties or fears. It's a simple yet heartfelt affirmation of your feelings for each other, a promise to explore the uncharted territory of your hearts together. The cosy movie room seemed to hold its breath, as if recognizing the significance of this moment.

With a sense of shared understanding and comfort, you and Wooyoung turn your attention to the old projector, both blushing profusely, ready to lose yourselves in the world of cinema. The room, with its warm glow and soft furnishings, felt like a cocoon of safety, shielding you both from the uncertainties of the outside world.

As the movie begins, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Wooyoung. The flickering light of the screen cast a mesmerising glow on his features, highlighting the handsome contours of his face. His eyes sparkled with a quiet intensity, and a soft genuine smile tugged at his lips.

You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly handsome he looked, the warm illumination accentuating every angle of his face. Your gaze falls upon a tiny mole just beneath his eye, a charming imperfection that somehow added to his allure. Another mole adorned his lip, drawing your attention like a magnetic force.

For a moment, an intrusive thought crosses your mind; the idea of kissing that mole on his lip. It was a fleeting fantasy, a tempting daydream that brushed against your consciousness like a gentle breeze. But as quickly as it appeared, you banished the thought, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush at its audacity.

Your gaze lingers on Wooyoung's charming mole beneath his lip, you're drawn into a brief reverie, a fantasy that dances at the edge of your thoughts. However, before you can dismiss the whimsical notion entirely, something unexpected happens.

Wooyoung, ever perceptive, notices your lingering gaze. A mischievous glint sparkles in his eyes, and he offers a playful, enticing proposition. "You know," he begins, his voice a low, husky whisper that carries a hint of amusement, "if you're thinking about kissing this mole..."

He raises a single finger, gently tracing it over the tiny mole on his lip, his lips curving into a sly, teasing smile. "You're more than welcome to give it a try."

Your heart skips a beat at his audacious invitation. It's a playful dare, a flirtatious challenge that Wooyoung has always been known for. A rush of emotions floods your senses – surprise, anticipation, and a flicker of desire. It's a moment filled with unspoken tension, a playful dance between temptation and restraint.

For a moment, you're left in a tantalising dilemma, caught between the allure of his suggestion and the awareness of your surroundings in the cosy movie room. The glow of the screen casts soft, shifting shadows, creating an atmosphere of intimacy that's hard to resist.

As you steal another glance at Wooyoung's inviting lips, a thousand thoughts race through your mind. It's a choice you have to make, a moment that teeters on the edge of something more profound, all set against the backdrop of a movie playing in the background.

"Dinner's ready!" a voice calls from upstairs, breaking the enchanting moment between you and Wooyoung. Startled by the interruption, you hastily stand up from the couch, your heart still racing from the intense emotions that had been building.

Wooyoung lets out an almost inaudible groan of frustration, clearly annoyed at the timing of the interruption. He rises from the couch as well and follows closely behind you as you ascend the staircase. However, just as you're about to take that final step to exit the basement, Wooyoung gently grabs your waist, his touch both firm and gentle.

Your back is pressed against the wall, the proximity between you and Wooyoung electrifying. He stands on the step just below you, his eyes almost meeting yours, him looking up at you with wide eyes, and you can feel the tension in the air. It's as if the missed opportunity from just seconds ago has come full circle, and now, you both find yourselves on the cliff of something unspoken.

His eyes, filled with a glint of longing and vulnerability, look up at you, and a moment of intense connection passes between you two. It's a gaze that speaks of unspoken desires and a tantalising yearning. Your heart flutters, and you can't help but feel flustered by the close proximity, your thoughts racing with the possibilities of what could happen next.

Wooyoung's expression is one of longing, like a lost puppy seeking comfort and affection. His eyes are filled with an unspoken question, a silent plea for something more. You imagine what it would be like to lean down and capture his lips in a tender kiss, to explore the depths of this uncharted territory that beckons.

But the knowledge that dinner is waiting and the awareness of your surroundings pull you back to reality. The moment remains suspended in time, an unresolved tension that lingers in the air. Wooyoung gazes up at you, the glint in his eyes ignites your imagination, and you can't help but wonder what might happen in a different situation, if he was looking up at you in a different situation.

"The offer is always open," Wooyoung murmurs, his voice a warm invitation as he gently pulls you closer, your lips nearly touching in a tantalising promise of a kiss. His breath caresses your lips, and the world around you seems to fade into the background.

"My lips are yours," he whispers, his words a sweet promise that lingers in the air. The moment is charged with desire, and you can feel your heart racing as you lean in, ready to close the distance and savour the taste of his lips.

But just as your lips are about to meet in a gentle kiss, Wooyoung moves away, leaving you breathless and wanting. He looks at you, his eyes roaming over your flustered state, a smug sense of pride blossoming within him as he senses the desire that courses through your veins.

With a sly and teasing smile, he turns away and heads to the kitchen for dinner, leaving you standing there, your heart still pounding, and aching for the taste of what could have been. The promise of that kiss lingers in the air, a tantalising reminder of the unspoken desires that simmer between you and Wooyoung, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - IV - FESTIVITIES

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.6K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd-Rautha's birthday is the perfect opportunity for many factions to put their pieces into play. For you the stakes are higher than ever, now that your feelings for the psychotic na-Baron have developed. Feyd rewards honour, honesty and sincerity and punishes treachery without mercy.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Violence, killing, spanking, oral sex , sex (p in v), choking, dirty talk, fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie

IV- Festivities

The cool white hues of the rising sun flow softly into your bedroom. Feyd has been awake admiring your sleeping visage for half an hour now. The slow rise and fall of your chest, the absence of tension in your expression, long lashes, relaxed limbs. Lifting your head gently he slips his arm out from under it. He’d never experienced such closeness and peace with anyone. He was struck by how much he enjoyed the proximity, after searching for you as long as he had he finally felt that that knowing ache in his chest was sated. Aches in his nether regions only growing stronger. He couldn’t wait for there to be more time. Time to wake you up slowly and properly. To watch your eyes flutter to consciousness while his mouth explored your sex. He would deliver as many climaxes as you needed to start your day, taking as many as he needed for his. It takes everything in him not to wake you with his tongue. But he needed his energy for the fight at hand there would be dozen or more slaves in the pit and he would need to put on a good show for the arena. He needed to solidify his place as heir so he would be able to strike a devastating blow to whomever had been at the head of your attack. He wouldn’t stand having his happiness taken from him. He would heed your warning, not making a further scene about it until the time was right. Sensing a shift in energy you stir as he stands upright out of the bed. It takes a moment to regain the full scope of your sight. Feyd stands shirtless at the foot of the bed. You cast a glance to the clock.

“Happy birthday” you smile before yawning.

“Thank you” Feyd smiles with his eyes glued to your lips.

“Come here” Feyd demands. Instead of hurrying you hold an arm out lazily. Feyd pulls you to him forcing you to kneel in the bed. You take the liberty of running your hands down his ripped obliques before trailing back to look up at him, he bows his head. Feyd kisses you aggressively, with a firm grip on your arms. You feel malleable in his arms, pliable and fully at his mercy. Relaxing into his aggression you allow yourself to revel in the moment, as he claims you with his kiss. No one has ever wanted you so much, no one had ever made you feel so needed, or so desired. Kissing Feyd is intoxicating, you lose concept of time allowing his curious hands to roam your body until you run out of breath. Pulling away first you see remnants of his handprints on your arms. His eyes catch the imprint as well, his eyes never leave yours as he leans down casting an apologetic kiss over his impressions left on each arm.

“I’m going to miss you today” he rasps.

Smiling at his open affection you place a kiss on his chest. “Remember, don’t look to me, stay focused” you whisper.

“Shhh” Feyd says not wanting you to worry. He’d been fighting for over a decade and didn’t need any advice on how to handle the arena. His energy is different this morning, there’s a raw aggression akin to what you’ve heard in the stories.

“Go now and don’t hold back” you repeat sitting back on the bed. It takes a moment for Feyd to register the familiar words but when he does a smirk plays at his full lips. Raising his chin he nods in agreement turning to head out the door. Feyd is appreciative of your embrace of his nature, acceptance over rejection. Your heart swells with a mix of feelings, anticipation, excitement and fear. Looking over his shoulder Feyd takes one final look at you before heading into his chambers to ready himself for the days festivities. Exiting your room he watches shock befall the guards. His chest swells with pride and he holds his head high as they all bow wishing him a happy birthday. Feeling incredible he doesn’t wash, wanting to keep your scent all over him, a reminder of the ultimate prize awaiting him following the fight. Pressing the button for his Mentat the doors open and the man enters.

“Have fresh flowers brought to the na-Baroness when she rises, whatever she wants she gets” he says casting an intimidating look the mans way. He wanted to commemorate your first night spent together.

“With pleasure” the Mentat nods and Feyd casts him away heading back into his bedroom to prepare for the intricacies of a day in the arena. He had motivation in spades now. Heading down into the city the pods zoom quickly, there’s chatter all around him but all he can think of is you, your beauty and your relaxation, the way you felt the way you smell and your touch. You’d been open to him while still standing your ground. In retrospect it was something he found himself admiring. You were braver than a lot of men. His desire for you would help him in the arena, he found himself a better bladesman since your arrival. He was more precise, more focused, more deadly. It was as though the softness you brought to him sharpened his senses. Ceremonial black paint is plastered into his skin and he tests the blades of his knives. Hearing the groans and hissing of his pets he procures the Harpies fresh flesh. He feels his bloodlust rise as he watches them eat savagely. The roar of the arena grows as Feyd paces to get in the right headspace for the fight. The chanting of his name is music to his ears.

Standing in front of a looking glass you observe the attendants as they dress you in an ornamental black dress unlike anything you could have predicted for the fight. Fresh flowers are at the centre of your table, it’s not lost on you how difficult it is to grow much of anything on the harsh planet of Giedi Prime. The chatter around you becomes senseless noise as people make mindless wagers on the amount of time it will take Feyd to best all of the contenders. Everyone anticipates Feyd putting on a lively show for his birthday. Others speak of the excitement their children will feel seeing the na-Barons firework display at night. Your stomach remains uneasy through the lot of it as you pray against his wounding and possible poisoning. Unlike everyone else, you have no desire to see Feyd take part in any brutality. Nor do you have any desire to change his nature. It’s just you would prefer to be elsewhere than privy to the barbaric of the area fights, especially after growing close to the na-Baron. Especially after coming to enjoy his kiss and touch as you do. With how much peace you found in sleeping beside him last night, how much you yearn for it to be every night, as well as the curious sensations that yearn for all of him. With Feyd-Rautha, one of the galaxies brutal horrors you’d found elements of strength that had been long lost. If they had existed before him at all. After your tryst sleep had found you easily, the warmth of his body against yours, his skin.

Your dress is secured and fastened by attendants creating the illusion of creature far more grand than you are. It’s far more ostentatious than anything the reverend mother would consider appropriate. They’re garments appropriate for a na-baroness. Leia enters in a dress that is also striking, you find yourself smiling when you see that a stabilizer has been built into the neck of it as she recovers from the neck injury from the savage attack. Among all the bustling staff the two of you choose to share a look instead of any thoughts. You are fitted for gloves, binoculars to see Feyd in the arena and made to choose from a plethora of other devices, menus and more to ensure your time at the celebration is enjoyable. It’s a two hours circus before you and Leia find any time alone. Sitting with your Mentat in a pod you look her over. The Mentat places a shield ring on your hand teaching you how to use the contraption in case of emergency. One is also given to Leia. You smile thankful for Feyd’s acceptance of Leia and his care for her well being in tandem with yours.

The roar of the arena snaps you out of your thoughts. The speed at which everything occurs is disorienting, choppy and sporadic. The planet fades into black and white as you exit the pod and walk out into the streets of Giedi Prime. The industrial smells are ghastly as you move through the corridor and into the arena. The shouting is deafening, your body vibrates from the cheering as your heart races with anticipation, Leia takes your hand in support knowing your aversion for crowds. You make out your betrothed’s name being chanted. Screens abound everywhere as highlights of Feyd’s best fights play on the screen.

Your escort grows with more and more armed men, you're placed into a hovercraft and driven to a palatial box with an incredible view and live screens of the arena pit operated by drones. Looking around the space your Mentat secures it. You smile at the fresh fruits and cheeses waiting for your convenience.

“May we have some time alone?” You ask the Mentat. He nods quickly clearing out the guards and attendants. It takes several minutes to recount the past nights events to Leia and when your finished her ambivalence matches your own. The worry in her eyes overrides the excitement. She takes your hand knowing better than anyone the state of your visions. Never had one come true within such a close span of time. They’d been abstract and symbolic thus far. They’d acted as a preview of the possibilities and not a definitive singular path. But just as you saw Feyd had removed his manhood from his pants and stroked it lazily as the two of you shared kisses. Typically, there was time for hours of speculation regarding the visions and plausible meanings but not today. The gash that had been sliced into his back wasn’t large but the impact it had on you was indicative of its danger. The blue-eyed Fremen woman you’d been looking at was in front of you. You could feel the dry desert heat on your skin as you looked up at her. Again, danger had felt eminent or at least perceived danger. Your visions of Feyd-Rautha had frightened you in the beginning but he had not harmed you. Although, your abduction had opened you up to a brutal attack and targeting.

“He’ll get through this. We’ll get through this” Leia says encouragingly pulling you from your thoughts.

“I can’t place the danger” you confess pacing in the grand viewing box. Sighing Leia rises doing the same as the two of you had many times before.

“Will you wait until you're married to have him?” Leia asks distracted.

“I would like to honour my family’s customs” you confess and she smiles making you blush.

“Right” she says resuming her movements you’d both learned moving helped you focus, helped bring things into focus, gain clarity.

“Perhaps, we will end up in Arrakis?” Leia says.

“Possibly” you agree.

“What can we do about poison here?” You ask concerned for Feyd, there’s an absence of herbs, or much of any Bene Gesserit items to subvert the effects of poison.

“Nothing” Leia says regretfully.

Slowing to a stop it comes to you. “Blood, our blood” you whisper. It’s one of the orders deepest secrets. Leia stops and you watch as understanding flows into her eyes. She grabs your hands, finally there’s promise. Drums sound shaking the entire arena and you watch as a procession of veiled women in head dresses enter a section of the arena. Unease fills you as the crows begin chanting Feyd-Rautha again, holding binoculars to your eyes watch as he emerges. You can feel your pulse in your throat. Torn by the levels of danger and treachery at play you find yourself the banister looking down at the fight with bated breath.

…

Tears stream steadily as you find yourself rushing to Feyd. Though victorious it was not without blood. One cut from a lucid Atreides soldier, was the cost of the spectacle. Feyd-Rautha had left there arena on adrenaline and fury. Leia shouts orders on your behalf getting you down the the base levels of the arena. Time seems to pass so slowly in spite of your rushing. The never-ending elevators, corridors and rooms leave you disoriented and in a labyrinth of confusion. When you arrive in Feyd’s chambers a Bene Gesserit sister and a doctor are among those in attendance.

Treachery is at hand you can feel it.

“Out” you say singularly. The voice that leaves your mouth is not yours. The doctor drops his things as Feyd turns to you in surprise. His lids looking heavier than ever before. One of the guards cuffs the sister gagging her in an instant. You go to Feyd trusting Leia with the care of the room and guards. He’d gone against your wishes holding his blade over his head and casting a look in your direction. In that moment the Atreides slave rose striking him across his back. Cutting your finger you place it in his mouth without explanation. Feyd’s eyes hold yours in surprise, his chest begins to rise and fall violently. His body begins to convulse and your heart races at your suspicions being confirmed.

Poison. They’d tried to poison him.

Holding Feyd you do your best to support him through his convulsions. Leia enters moments after the shaking has stopped. You watch as his body begins to metabolize the poison resistant qualities of your bloods training and exposure. Holding his limp heavy body you watch as yellow liquid drips out of the open wounds. Leia sees it too, her chest rises in relief as does yours. Breathing you kiss Feyd’s head.

“Priming poison to make him vulnerable to suggestion, priming him for the breeding program” Leia says far more astute than you with the intricacies of the sisterhood. Feyd stirs in your arms and it takes him a moment before he regains full consciousness. His eyes are full of rage. He grabs your throat in anger squeezing tight before he realizes it’s you. Withdrawing he sways and you support him again. He looks to you and then Leia before turning to look at his back in the reflection of the mirrored steel. Tears of relief wash down your face and Feyd pulls you in for a hug.

“I’ll find sterile needles and thread, he’ll need stitches” Leia says leaving the room proving further the treachery. There were no means of stitching his wounds aside from an odd looking salve at the doctors station.

“What happened?” Feyd asks.

“High treason, the knife was poisoned to make sure you would be susceptible to Bene Gesserit seduction, suggestion and primed to breed to secure your genetic material” you explain. Feyd looks at you with an intrinsic knowingness, the soreness of his cut was evidence of the treason. He’d been cut too many times to know the levels of pain they should inflict. This one was unnatural in many ways. Leia returns and you wipe the poison remnants from his skin.

“Do not cry for me” he whispers, growing angry at your distress.

You thread the needle and situate yourself behind Feyd. The separation of flesh is gruesome but far from the worst you’ve witnessed in your lifetime. He watches you through the reflection feeling the pain as you stitch him back together with singular concentration. His eyes look from you to Leia and she bows her head at him out of respect.

“Have the witch and doctor brought in” he tells her. Nodding she turns leaving, you can feel the anger radiating from Feyd and know this won’t end well for them. They enter before you’ve finished and the doctor trembles. Feyd watches him without words as you finish up, taking a sterile candle you light it to get an even coat of wax to seal your work. Feyd is so angry he’s barely affected by the sting. When you finish he stands tapping on your shield. Leia follows suit and Feyd taps on a shield of his own.

“You made the na-Baroness cry!” he growls. His anger gives you goosebumps. He takes a blade pushing it violently into the doctors throat. The sister watches in horror trying to use the voice but her gag inhibits her ability. Feyd removes it revelling at the challenge. As she speaks he strikes fast sticking his hand into her mouth. Her jaw moves and her eyes rise in horror, she screams as he takes her tongue. He grabs pincer tools and holds her tongue looking at her mockingly. The moment she tries to speak again he takes the scissors removing her tongue. Her cries are blood curling. You close your eyes looking away as she crumples to the ground. The doctor is still choking in agony. There’s blood everywhere, Feyd is covered in it. It smells like iron and you tremble closing your eyes as you try to escape the brutal stabbing of both conspirators. Leia trembles at your side. When Feyd’s tirade is over he takes the medical beds leather cover piling the bodies and overing them over. He’s covered blood and at wits end. Feyd heads to the door pulling it open.

“Feed them to my pets” he snarls pointing to the piled bodies.

“Return the na-Baroness to her quarters” he shouts. Leia takes your hand and as you leave you see the blood on his hands, body and Feyd. He holds your gaze without shame or apology.

“Go now, I won’t hold back” he says and it gives you pause. You find a small smirk at the twinkle in his eye. Your Feyd is still in there. The experience of being brought back to your quarters is out of body, you're stricken with the visuals of Feyd covered in the blood of his kills after the carnage that took place in the arena. It’s really to you, the scope of what he’s capable of. What scares you even more is how little he terrifies you. The fear of losing him was more than any you’ve ever felt before. You’d managed to use the voice. It hadn’t even been possible when you’d been under attack yourself but it’d materialized without warning when Feyd was too vulnerable to protect himself.

…

Standing in front of the Baron Feyd is unable to withhold his anger. If he could get away with murder here and now he would without question. Amused eyes look back at his rage filled ones. The Baron chuckles in his tub sitting forward as he smokes from a pipe. It would be as easy as breathing to hold the old man down once he ripped away the suspension devices implanted into his back. The Baron would drown in his own gluttony.

“Arrakis is yours, my birthday gift to you” the Baron says surprising Feyd.

“What of Rabban?” Feyd inquires.

“He’s proven himself incapable of the task” the Baron responds. “Feyd?” The Baron calls to his nephew as he turns to leave. “A path has been set for you to inherit far more than Arrakis. The girl is a nobody, keep her as a slave if you please but do not marry her” the Baron instructs. Feeling anger like never before he hears your voice pleading with him to maintain his composure and so he does casting his uncle a silent nod before leaving. Guards take him down an unfamiliar path before leaving him alone. Feyd-Rautha slows sensing a presence behind him. Turning he sees a fine woman, her garments tell him she’s a part of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. A smirk pulls at his lips as he follows her like a moth to a flame.

“You’re following me” Feyd rasps

“Am I? I may have gotten lost, will you show me the way out of this maze my lord na-Baron” she says sweetly.

“Have we met, are you a Bene Gesserit?” Feyd asks sensing vibrations in his head as he follows her. She gives a chuckle. “I’m marrying one of your sisters” he states.

“Are you?” She smiles turning to face him. “I’m Margot Fenring” she smiles and Feyd recalls the name. He continues stalking his prey under the guise of mindlessly following. Looking around the guest wind he realizes there are no guards.

“Kneel” she says and again he feels vibrations in his head but he does not feel the compulsions of the voice.

“What do you want?” He adds kneeling slowly.

“To see if you're worth an enjoyable night?” She smiles. Feyd moves quickly stabbing her with the Gom Jabbar before she can put it to his neck. Her eyes bulge as she blinks. Knowing Bene Gesserit trickery he plunges a blade into her chest to ensure her passing. He would end every single one of them if it meant protecting you. He would never allow an entire order to mock your impending union. Worse yet, rob him of his free will.

“You’re too late” Feyd laughs at the corpse. The pain in his arm throbs but the sensation exhilarates him. So does the knowledge that he has the power to resist the treachery of the Bene Gesserit.

…

The day had been never ending, your level of exhaustion compounded by the potential stress of losing Feyd, a fear you hadn’t fully come to terms with. The warm fresh water is another extravagance most aren’t afforded but you revel in the aromatics and balms place into the bath. The fireworks flash outside, breathing slowly you try to settle your nerves. Resting your head on the bath pillow you allow the salts to relax your muscles. Floating you feel a hand touch your shoulder. Feyd’s hand, you know by the ever-present warmth in his touch. It’s a pleasant dream you relax into. His hand slides deeper into the water fondling your breast. Sensing a presence you open your eyes only to see his hand across your chest. Craning your head back you find him crouched behind you in his night linens. His head lowers placing a kiss on yours. Feyd-Rautha walks around the tub to face you. His eyes teeming with desire and mischief. He needs you tonight. Removing his night tunic he tosses it aside before dipping his arm into the water with his eyes assessing your every move. Instead of withdrawing you slide closer to him at the edge of the tub.

Pulling you out of the tub he watches in absolute adoration as the water beads off your skin. Your fully nude figure in real time takes his breath away. Feyd’s mouth salivates at the nights potential. His eyes never leave yours. Goosebumps cover your skin and he smiles running his hands over the soft flesh of your pebbled nipples. He had a thing for being thorough and attentive. Tonight would only be more intense, he needed you to come to learn and understand sexual pleasure. You’d given him a privilege no one else had; protection while wanting nothing in return.

“Go lie down” he whispers sending you on your way. You grab a towel removing the excess water only for a stinging slap to kiss your skin. Turning Feyd’s hand is already around your neck, the heat of his gaze leaves you molten putty in his hands. Your reaction to his punishment impresses him.

“Such a good girl” he purrs rubbing the sting on your ass away. “I was going to dry you off” Feyd says taking the towel and crouching down to your legs. He grabs your bottom roughly before placing a kiss on the spot he’d spanked, leaving a languid depraved kiss on the area. His teeth graze it leaving you pooling your centre. He towels you upwards from your ankles to shoulders watching you carefully.

“Bed” he repeats and you do as he says, anticipation building violently in your stomach and core. Looking back you touch the bed looking for his approval, nodding slightly he watches intently from the bathroom door. The anticipation kills as you lie down as told. He stalks over to you, your body brims with anticipation. Will Feyd-Rautha make love to you or will he take pleasure in your pain? Before you can string anymore thoughts together his lips are on yours. There’s no time to enjoy the kiss as his attack is two fold, his hands is pressed against your centre relieving the throbbing anticipation with slow circles, he presses against your entrance firmly teasing you with new sensation His touch makes you moan into his mouth, you feel him smiling against your mouth, your legs close around his hand trying to keep it in place as he starts rubbing circles. You pool for Feyd feeling crazy for him as he makes you feel incredible. Your naked body writhing under his touch, his intrigued smirk satisfied by your reaction to him. Your breathing only becomes more strained as he slides one finger in and then two forcing your legs back open.

“So wet for me” Feyd says against your lips. Before dipping his head and extending his tongue, the slow stroke of his fingers continue as he kisses your other lips. The suction of his mouth forcing your eyes closed, your stomach contracting as he gives your body the most intimate kiss while finger fucking you slowly.

A chorus of moans leave you.

Shallow breaths.

Closed eyes

Arched back

Euphoria.

Feyd’s kiss gets sloppier as he moans at the taste of you. He’d never needed to taste a woman so bad, he honestly preferred not to but there was nothing more beautiful than you becoming undone at his touch. Your warm slick walls around his fingers, growing more and more slippery under his tongue. The heat, your swelling clit, the more attention he gives it the more you squirm.

“Like that?” He asks.

“Mhhm,” you nod.

“Words,” Feyd says popping his fingers out of you.

The loss is too much, “I like that” you manage delirious.

“Like what, my fingers in the pussy that’s mine?” Feyd says heating your body once again. Opening your eyes you look down at his, his eyes are like a sharks after tasting blood. His desire for you only heightens yours for him.

“Like … everything you do to me because I belong to you” you whisper meaning every word. Fed’s eyes close and he reenters you with his fingers, as he adjusts to kiss you, allowing you to taste the effects of your arousal on his lips.

“Everything?” Feyd-Rautha growls.

Unfamiliar sensations ripple through your body as you try to maintain your breathing, his kiss and sanity despite him trying to undo your sanity. His fingers stroke expertly. His eyes darken a shade seeing your reaction to him, your eyes close as he switches from two fingers to just his middle thrusting deeper and faster.

“MMhmmm” you moan unable to express much more. His cock springs to life at the sound of your moans, your wetness and your grip around his finger. Your climax comes hard and fast ripping through you. Panting, it takes a moment before your senses return and your eyes meet his. Feyd has never seen a more beautiful woman. His wants and needs come to a head as he strokes his manhood. His depravity knew no end, but his need for you isn’t eclipsed by your own needs. He could feel how new this was for you, he knows you can’t handle him in his full physicality, not yet. Watching your eyes roam down his face, chest, abs and the inevitable v-cut the satisfaction in your gaze makes him feel like a king.

“How was that first orgasm?” Feyd asks needing verbal affirmation.

“Incredible” you confess still mind blown. “Are you mine?” You ask shifting onto your side.

“Shhh” he places his fingers against your lips, the same ones that’d brought you over the edge. “I’m not finished claiming you yet” he says taking one of your legs. Your eyes hold his primed with anticipation as he gets between your legs while you're on your side using the positions he slides his manhood against your opening teasingly. His eyes hold yours. “How does it feel?” He asks his voice full of grit.

“So good” you respond.

“Does my na-Baroness want more?” He asks continuing teasing strokes along the length of your slit. The anticipation builds and his smirk is everything. Nodding you reach out to get a kiss, needing somewhere to put your emotions, he obliges.

“You’re perfect when you lose control” Feyd rasps resuming his between your legs, you're on your side, he’s on his knees holding one of your legs up for leverage to go deep. He plunges into you slowly, inch after inch until properly sheathed. Body to body, you're one. Your breath hitches from the overwhelming sensation.

“That’s it” Feyd encourages stretching you out. Tears sting your eyes, as the pressure and stimulation reach its apex. He holds the position giving you time to adjust to his size, allowing you to feel all of him, claiming his territory. You cry out trying to take space but it only encourages his pursuit, pulling out his hips find a teasing rhythm, he kisses your inner thigh.

He’s making you crazy.

You moan, cry, whimper.

He holds your hand, driving himself in and out of you.

Losing himself in your depths.

Revelling in the faces you're making because of him.

In the sounds of pleasure

The feel of you wrapped around him

Thrusting faster

Moan louder

Feeling you clench tighter

He could die today, here and now with your core wrapped around his, the two of you joined as one, the taste of your pussy fresh on his lips, the worn look in your eyes, the pleasure in your moans, your willingness to submit to his needs freely.

“Feyd” you plead climaxing again.

He keeps pace sustaining the thrill until you’ve felt the full effects of his manhood. Your moans grow at his unrelenting thrusts unable to pull out comes inside you hard. The sensation is your undoing, crying out you pull him closer. Feyd obliges in his most vulnerable state. You share a sloppy kiss as he touches you intimately. He leaves himself in for a few minutes before sliding out. The emptiness is unpleasant, you moan regretfully at the loss of contact. Resting his head on your chest Feyd takes a moment to recover. He’d never lost control while inside of a woman before. He had never had such need to be inside of one so strongly either. One woman hadn’t sated him since early adolescence. The softness of your skin draws him in, he feels himself stir again desperately wanting more. He could go a few more rounds but he knows better than to push you any further. Rising slowly he stands getting out of the bed. The absence of him is an unpleasant sensation. Feyd scoops you up from the bed in a show of strength walking you back to the bathroom with ease. Placing you in the cleansing chamber he stands there too. You try your best to fight exhaustion but it’s overwhelming. You’re cleansed thoroughly as is Feyd. You follow his lead as he places a night dress over your head slipping on a pair of pants himself.

You take a moment to admire each other, lingering in the silence of the unspeakable deeds that have just transpired. He’s hard to read but his bright eyes signify he’s pleased. Needing closeness you hold him, he secures you in place.

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?” You ask as Feyd cups under your ass picking you up again. You wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel him hard against your stomach.

“You bring me great pleasure na-Baroness” he responds softly. Slow strides lead you to the reader, you place your hand into it and the doors to his adjoined chambers open. Feyd carries you through the door and into his bedroom. His devotion to you is the quality of his you least expected.

“You did so good” he praises pulling back the sheets and helping you into the large bed.

“Thank you,” you blush causing him to smile.

Feyd nods getting in the bed himself. Face to face you drape your hand over his shoulder and you feel the wax over the stitches you applied after the fight. “You chose me before your sisters” Feyd comments as your eyes flutter shut.

“I’m yours” you remind him breathlessly as sleep takes you.

Watching you sleep Feyd’s heart swells with love and pride. He’d claimed you, his bride to be. You trusted him, you gave yourself to him willingly. All attacks on you would come to an end, militant brutality would be enforced against anyone jeopardizing his happiness. Against anyone or anything that threatens you.

You are his.

____________

Authors Note: thank you for reading, I know this is a long one 🖤 you aren't obligated but feel free to like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this chapter.

xoxo

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