#decent ish plot

[dearmyloveleys]

I may have some gripes about the overall story writing and pacing of fangs of fortune, but god the work they put into the depth and characterisation of each character is amazing for what it is. Given that it’s supposed to be in the shenmo genre and the story itself moves quickly with action, the fact that the writers added many scenes to flesh out the backstory and motivations of each character is commendable. It’s even more commendable that they do this while being restrained to 34 episodes, which is shorter than the standard cdrama (could have extended it to slow down the first 10 episodes but I digress). The dialogue in fangs of fortune is often one of the most expressive and beautiful, yet succinct I have seen in cdramas.

[bragganhyl]

kinda wanna touch the vampire AU thing again

[muttever]

i have an rpg maker horror game id like to make some day, and recently my brain has been like "ok but what if you made a sequel for it, you know, after you make the first one"

[slut-for-free-will]

eltingville club headcannons (x reader)

✿˖˚ ༘𐙚 > // my headcannons for the boys + if they were romantic with you. I tried to make it relatively gender neutral on your part, but Bill is written as x fem reader.

wordcount: 4933

rating: medium -> mature-ish (some parts are freaky *cough bill and Peter DiNunzio*)

warnings: unhealthy relationships (ESPECIALLY Bill), themes of child neglect, cursing, misogyny, Bill Dickey, Pete Dinunzio

Jerry

Jerry’s grades are decent, mainly B’s and B+’s, an occasional A.

His parents aren’t really present in his personal life.

Use to get bad anxiety as a kid, especially when his parents fought.

Who am I kidding Jerry still gets heavy anxiety.

Horrible poker face.

Before he even knew your name, the slightest glimpse of you would make his cheeks tingle and butterflies flood his stomach. 

When he’s nervous his palms will HEAVILY sweat (When you first start dating, you can’t hold hands bc they’re lowkey slimy)

His room is clean-ish, no garbage overflowing his trash can or anything, but Jerry’s not very organized.

Papers of loose ideas, DnD dice, pencils, and the occasional figurine or magazine litter the floor.

He also liked eating snacks in his room, but he got lectured by his mom upon getting ants and was forced to stop.

The first time he knew you were coming over he PANICKED.

When you went into his room you were surprised — Jerry didn’t seem like such a clean and orderly person.

His bookshelves are crammed with fantasy books, though (he's been dying to read them, but has trouble focusing on pages of a book; most of the time he vies for watching TV and movies)

Thank god you didn’t open the closet — a flood of figurines, comics, magazines, books, plushies and everything else under the sun would have buried you both.

Speaking of plushies, Jerry sleeps with them. They crowd his bed.

And he didn’t invite you to enter his room, you just sorta stumbled in there accidentally (if you had  waited for an invitation it would never come — he was way too nervous to offer you into his room).

I feel like his love language would be words of affirmation.

As much as live action is cool, Jerry loves 2D animation much more.

Pretty insecure about sharing his ideas for stories and whatnot. He's nervous about getting insulted — even something small is enough to keep him awake at night.

When you first let him tentatively share a new concept for a DnD plot and praise him for it, his brain short circuits.

Now he's way more than just head over heels. He’s like. Soul and mind over physical plane of existence if that makes sense.

He would die for you, is what I’m saying.

If you have any story ideas/paracosms/OCs, he would LOVE to hear you yap abt them. Since you’re both creative, you might just hang out and worldbuild together.

Loves reading high fantasy books to you

If you read to him his heart would explode (I'm not joking) (this also helps him read the books he's been meaning to get to)

Will actually die if you take him to a ren faire. Will fade to dust if you dress up with him.

If you weren’t into DnD, Jerry would want you to get into it SO BADLY. But he would never push you (even offhand interest would make his heart backflip)

Loves to put inside jokes you two share into his DnD plotlines as easter eggs for himself (even if you aren’t at the club meetings 99% of the time)

Speaking of being there…

He doesn’t like it when you hang around the club (or if you’re even in close proximity with those freaks) and absolutely bars you from following him to their sessions.

The closest you’ll get is maybe a walk to Bill’s front porch.

Most of the time, Jerry does anything he can to avoid you and the members of the club interacting.

Despite all your love for each other, he wouldn't try and stick up for you if you were bad-mouthed by the rest of the club members.

Jerry probably wouldn't tell you what they're saying, either.

He gets so scared you'll stop liking him because of his company, maybe become a victim of their attention, or possibly even leave him.

And god forbid if you ever broke up.

He'd fall into a deep spiral of depression, but wouldn’t ask for help or try and get back together.

Jerry’s one to self blame and retreat inwards; every time you'd get into an argument, he would find some way to lay the blame on and/or isolate himself.

You have to apologize first.

Josh

Gets good grades, but has to put in effort. His family values education quite a bit.

Cat person (would probably dress up his cats if he had any)(his family doesn’t have pets).

Blind as a bat without his glasses, and takes good care of them. 

Josh is actually a pretty organized person. His room itself is quite clean, but his desk is cluttered with everything from candy wrappers to half-built figurines.

Uses emoticons instead of emojis.

Listens to podcasts most of the time. In terms of music, he doesn’t really have a set music taste. He says he loves whatever you’re into, though.

On occasion, he’ll stay up late, but Josh is pretty good about having a normal sleep schedule.

Hella scared about opening up personally, but yaps to death about whatever sci-fi thing he’s interested in.

Josh has a few main interests (Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, etc.) but beyond that, his outer interests change every week.

One day he’ll be reading a series about warring aliens, the next giving a ted talk on several different space technologies.

Probably reads a lot – and fast, too. (If the club found out about this they’d call him a nerd) (but they’re ALL nerds so that insult doesn’t really go anywhere)

Josh the typa guy to kick his feet and blush into his pillow like an anime girl when thinking about you.

Also the typa guy to think about his parents funeral at 2AM in the morning and start sobbing.

When you first meet, you’re in the library, browsing for a book.

You overhear loud whispers — insults, laughter, and angry comebacks.

As you inch closer, you spot four figures jeering in between the bookshelves. You can’t really recognize them from your spot, hidden amongst the books, but you realize they’re… making fun of someone.

It’s not long before three of them shuffle off, leaving one behind.

You emerge from your place between the shelves, ask if he’s alright.

It’s honest and sweet.

Josh has never been talked to like that.

Soon enough, you’re thriving in his dreams – swooping in to save him from the club’s torment. As time drags on, the club’s appearances in his dreams lessen – instead, it’s just you, you, you.

He asks to hang out often; he’s a quality time fan (can get clingy, expanded upon later)

Josh will get elated if you let him vent – or even just listen to anything he says. All you have to do is just sit there, really.

He’s bothered by comments on his physical appearance, but they don’t typically get to him as much as they used to.

You, on the other hand – your comments would have an effect. He'll brush it off, but think about it later (and by think, I mean have an existential crisis).

Josh gets really insecure when he’s around you.

And he spirals easily; it’s hard for him to keep a cool head.

If you leave him for a moment while hanging out in some public place, a rush of thoughts will flood his head (What if you abandoned him? What if you don’t like him anymore? What if this relationship is just one big joke, and he’s the butt of it?)

You find yourself having to reassure him that your relationship is legit.

Hangouts can be anywhere from your room, to his room, to the park, to honestly even the grocery store.

Prefers being able to see your face — wouldn’t go to a movie theater with you (unless they’re playing some movie he’s really excited to see).

Would love you forever if you gave him a collectible that he’s missing in his collection.

Josh doesn’t get a lot of praise or things he likes in his life – even the smallest passing comment gives him something to smile at for the rest of the week.

He can get really clingy, though. Like SUPER clingy.

He wants to spend as much time as he can with you — every possible moment he has, spending time with you is amongst his top three things of stuff he wants to do.

Josh calls you at least once a day, walks you to every class (even if it makes him late), and wakes you up in the middle of the night through a call or text to ask if you’re ok (he had a dream where you got hurt).

Like Jerry, he doesn’t want you hanging around to the club — but his feelings are way more extreme.

He despises, DETESTS you being anywhere within 100 miles of any of them.

Josh keeps your relationship a secret for as long as possible, and frequently makes up excuses to tell both you and the club to not hang out.

If you end up finding out about the club? Fine! But don’t expect to be invited to any meetings, EVER.

If the club finds out about you… good god.

They’ll probably see if they can get you and Josh to break up, doing anything from spreading rumors to pulling pranks to even staging a “He cheated on you!” scandal.

But you never will break up.

Josh wouldn’t (couldn’t) allow it.

Pete

HOLY MOLY does this boy have BAD BAD BAD grades

Just barely passing his classes, and his parents don’t really care that he’s highkey struggling.

Uses class to mess around, catch up on sleep, or do anything that’s not classwork.

Sometimes has insomnia, other times he’s out like a light and sleeps like a log. No in between.

Complete lack of sleep schedule. Goes to bed anywhere from 11pm to 5am.

I side with the Pete-snores-when-he’s-asleep truthers. He probably mumbles too.

Fan of insect torture as a kid (never grew out of it)

Probably has 5 or 6 siblings and doesn’t get much attention, leading to him locking himself away in his room watching his disgusting movies or hanging out with the club.

Either way, Pete has a lot of free time – the most by far out of the club members.

He likes music he can play loudly (i.e rap and heavy metal).

Won’t do house music, though. He claims “any music that don’t got lyrics ain’t fuck’n music.” 

Has a fake drivers license that says he’s 21 (it’s so obviously fake, though)

Pete relates a lot of things in his daily life to horror movies (i.e stalking through the streets of an unsuspecting neighborhood, the pale streetlights a temporary respite from the shadows that ravage silent suburbia is basically him as Michael Myers about to kill some bimbo bitch)

He could talk at great lengths about various assortments of snacks to eat upon viewing different categories of horror movies for exclusive experiences.

You maybe met on the bus — it was your first day at this new school, and you’re blissfully unaware of all the social workings of .

God when you stepped on that stupid, yellow, loud ass, hot and sweltering tin can on wheels, it was over for you.

Pete laid his beady little eyes on you, he went dead silent, right in the middle of terrorizing the freshmen behind him with his gory recollections of whatever blood-soaked film it was.

When you sat in the bus seat directly in front of him, he lost it.

Did you know who he was? Were you aware the neighborhood horror-porn maniac is sitting behind you? And did you know how mouth-wateringly, drop-dead gorgeous you are?

It was all a downhill tumble from there; Pete heaves himself up as the bus starts moving, making remarks about your physical appearance.

Before long it’s now romantic advances like gifts, confessions, reminders that he knows where you live.

And even if you try and change seats he’ll force his way to sit somewhere near you and continue his odd serenade of you.

So now, with this new obsession, Pete will take “bathroom breaks,” consisting of him strolling down the halls, trying to figure out which classes you have and when.

Soon enough, he’s memorized your entire schedule and will pick spots to wait for you that will ensure you two see each other.

The romantic tension is really getting to him. Is it getting to you?

While you can’t escape Pete in school, he can’t escape you, ever.

You infect his dreams, whisper into every aspect of his life, and Pete can’t even watch a goddamn horrible slasher flick without seeing you in place of the final girl, covered in blood, screeching in terror (before promptly having to rub one out).

Honest to god I have no idea how you two would end up together.

Best guess? You go watch a movie (alone, if this is to play out correctly) and that freak ass club ducks into the theatre, hoping to creep into the seats and watch whatever knockoff film was showing, free of charge.

They can’t see shit as the lights click off and the screen turns black, so somehow Pete ends up filing into the same row as poor, unsuspecting you.

From there? Can’t say; perhaps he notices you before you notice him. Maybe he just stares in disbelief for a moment – I mean it’s you, the person who rules his dreams and his mind (and might possibly like him).

Then maybe he gets a bit bolder, lets his hands to the talking, and you sit there and take it because you know you like him back and then he grabs your chin, rough and hungry, and closes in and the two of you are-

Man, who knows.

Love language? That’s a hard one. I’m thinking “wild card” — you have no idea what he’s gonna do for you and when he’s gonna do it, but whatever it is, it’s thoughtful.

And MY GOD is his room RANCID.

There's like mystery wet spots and piles of trash and dirty clothes everywhere.

And crumpled tissues. Let's not think about those right now.

He doesn’t even bother to clean it the first time you come over either. You just have to stand there awkwardly while Pete rants about this one obscure horror film that copied this other obscure horror film.

His parents don't really ask him to clean his room basically ever, and Pete has ZERO sense of personal hygiene.

Showers like twice a month. Maybe thrice if he can muster up the want.

Pete likes cold showers. He also likes eating ice cream, outdoors, in the middle of winter (“It won’t fuck’n melt!” he insists, knee deep in snow).

OH, and Pete’s not really that nice to you.

Mainly because he thinks it’s great entertainment to have someone to subject his little spurts of malice upon.

But also, because he doesn’t really know how to convey affection — all he’s learned in the romance sector is from a constant bombardment of his… taste in movies.

If you squirm at gore just know one of your dates is gonna be Pete sitting you down and making you watch a movie among his top ten most horrid tapes. Possibly in some secluded area.

And? And? This ANIMAL loves sneaking up behind you and giving you a scare. Constantly.

If you flinch he’ll laugh a bit, but leave you to scowl at him

But let out a noise and jump? GOD he will tease and tease you forever. And it’s guaranteed he’ll spook you more often, too.

Pete does a lot of things to elicit a reaction — commenting on your body, scaring you like mentioned above, saying absolutely profane shit that makes your cheeks heat instantaneously, when he leans in and whispers what he wants to do to you.

And on occasion, he’ll make threats. Just vague,  “I know where you live,” type shit (no duh, you know where he lives too), but sometimes he’ll step a little too far, insinuate a little too much. 

But listen – he’s not all bad. Pete does some nice things for you.

Just bet if you ever get bullied, some nauseating note(s) filled with immensely graphic, highly nauseating threats will be nailed to your terrorizer’s front door (fake blood may be included).

Movie dates are typically at your house (both you and Pete prefer it), but he will outright lie to your parents, and maybe even you, about what movie(s) you’ll be watching.

Sometimes he’ll show up unannounced, banging at your window for you to open up in the middle of the night.

On occasion, when he knows your house is gonna be deserted for a bit, he’ll go into your room and snoop around, maybe just lay on your bed.

But uh… Pete gropes. He really does.

It’s like an addiction; it would be easier to prove what comes after death once and for all than make Pete to get his fucking mitts off you.

He’s also into biting. But much less than groping, thank god.

Pete doesn't care if you're around the club (he actually enjoys seeing everyones reactions, especially Bill's, when he rubs it in their face that he's dating this smoking hot, absolutely stunning human being).

If you were being hit on by another person though, I doubt Pete would get jealous or try to defend you. Hell, he might even like seeing you squirm in discomfort.

The longer your relationship drags on, Pete’s intrusive thoughts regarding you become increasingly more disturbing.

One of these days he’s gonna make these depraved fantasies a reality.

Bill

For some god awful reason he has straight A’s without even trying.

Does his mom care when he brings home yet another test he aced? No.

Bill correlates a lot of subject matter with characters, from comics, plots of shows, or whatever else. He can memorize tons of material with minimal effort, while simultaneously keeping up that think-about-comics-24/7 mindset.

Lazy as hell — never does chores or anything he doesn’t have to.

THE bare minimum guy.

Can’t have any pets because he wouldn’t take care of them; irresponsible to the point he could kill a cactus.

His eyesight isn’t as bad as Josh’s, but still takes the care to clean his glasses and avoid getting them scratched up.

His damaged eyes partially because he read comics after bedtime way too much as a kid, flashlight under the covers and everything.

Master of cutting corners when it comes to anything — speedruns his homework, does every other problem/question if he can get away with it, and can’t be bothered with double checking anything he ever does.

I bet he got night terrors and nightmares when he was little — some of his nightmares still traumatize him to this day.

In terms of hygiene, he’s pretty bad at it (duh). Not as bad as Pete, but still, bad.

Showers only at his mom’s orders (once a week, maybe twice).

Bill’s closet is a big copy and paste fest — nothing disturbs the endless sea of graphic tees, dark colored jeans, and flannel shirts/blazers.

Except that one suit that he wore to some distant relatives funeral when he was thirteen. He hasn’t worn it since, but debates using it for some cosplay.

Bill would subtly violate a person’s boundaries, and then brush it off as a joke when he’s called out.

Going off of my “Bill is smart” headcanon, and how his mom doesn’t care for education, he could have done a lot of things, but the lack of value put on education caused him to not give a shit about going to college or whatnot.

Throwing insults at people, media concepts, anything is a favorite of his.

Will find some way to hate on something, no matter how good it is (too long, too boring, not enough naked women)

On my life Bill listens to Weezer. Probably Radiohead too.

Disclaimer: below is fem!reader x w*lliam. Srry boys and other💔

You gotta be insane to want to date Bill Dickey.

You have to have a complete lack of self worth and respect.

I mean where does the attraction even come from? He’s repulsive, abusive, narcissistic. Who would even like this misogynist? (me me me!)

But you are clueless when you first meet. The school’s big, and you’re not too familiar with everything.

Maybe you haven't seen him getting bullied and shoved around just yet.

You approach him with honest, innocent intentions: you’re lost and need to get to your next class.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s a bad guy” is what you’re thinking when you spot him, leaning against a locker and thumbing through a comic book (oh, how wrong you are!)

So you tap on his shoulder and ask him if he knows which direction Mrs. Green’s English class is.

And of course, Bill takes it as something else – a helpless, normie bitch is interrupting his happy world of imagination, asking him for help (to mock him or throw herself at him, he can’t figure out)

He immediately snaps back, commenting how of course you wouldn’t know where your class is, damn woman.

Maybe he insults you some more, stating how you shouldn’t even be in school anyways, idiotic bimbo.

And how do you react?

You stumble off in shock – blaming your burning face on his degradation and not the fluttering in your gut.

But alas, soon enough you find yourself needing major help on some complex subject, whatever it is, so you ask the teacher if they have any recommendations for tutors.

Of course, Mr. top-of-the-class Bill Dickey is first on his list.

So now you’re being tutored by Bill, whose ego is stoked like an inferno at the chance to not only be around a pretty girl for an hour, but get to basically call her stupid every second of the way.

80% of the time he keeps his distance, the two of you sitting across from each other in a quiet corner of the library, but on occasion, when you just can’t get something right, he will march over there, wrestle the pencil out of your hands, and do it for you (you note to yourself that’s the best way to make Bill come over to you).

Holy shit his face is so red when he’s done leaning over you and mansplaining (fuck, you smell good) and you pretend not to notice, blaming his reddened face on anger, frustration.

But some part of you wonders if he likes you the way you like him.

Soon enough, your tutoring becomes a highlight of your day (same with him, but he’d never admit it).

Truth be told, Bill’s a pretty bad teacher, but he can be really funny, relatable, and at least you’re getting somewhere.

He even introduced you to some good comic series (without him actually knowing, you just picked up a copy of whatever he was reading at your local comic shop. What was it, Moe’s? Bo’s? Either way, everyone was staring at you freakishly from the second you walked in to the second you stepped out.)

Sessions are always in the library, but he fantasizes about taking it further, going to his house or yours.

Sometimes he wonders what your room would look like (by sometimes I mean MANY times).

But Bill despises you.

You are literally ruining his life.

You have no idea what you do to him – always looking so fucking innocent, entirely unaware of how you sink your teeth into his heart every time you smile, wave, say “hi” in the halls.

He didn’t really know what a cocktease was – till he met you.

He can't stop thinking about anything  to do with you; your body, your voice, your lips. The way you laugh at his jokes and not him, how you come back no matter how many times he berates you.

It’s like you own him without even raising a finger.

He finds his grades dropping because he can’t pay attention in the classes you share — he watches you brazenly like some starving dog watching a butcher’s shop.

He gets worse and worse at tutoring you because he’ll lose his train of thought, completely enraptured by the thought of how fucking easy it would be to simply lean in and smash his lips against yours.

For fucks sake, Bill shouldn’t think so much about a girl; you’re just a carbon copy of all the other whores running around this shitty planet.

He, the man, rules you, not the other fucking way around.

But when you show up in his dreams as a seductive member of his crew, spread out and needy for him, his head is whirling and he loses his typically smooth composure (in his fuckass dreams! really?!)

But he wakes up before anything can actually happen, putting him in a foul mood.

He’s shaken out of it when he takes a cold shower.

Now Bill’s simultaneously angry, shameful, and excited whenever he goes to sleep.

If you ever show up for the club, he’ll scream and shout in protest.

And if you somehow worm yourself into a session? GOD it is torture for Bill.

How the hell is he supposed to get anything done when the girl he LOVES hates is sitting right across from him, getting hit on by Pete.

Needless to say, Bill would be a bit more abrasive during that session (partially in hopes you’ll get scared off, but also because he gets so worked up around you)

Please please PLEASE do not confess to Bill.

He would never confess to you either, but that's not the point.

I mean gosh, imagine how BAD it would be:

In the back of the library you’re packing up, just having finished a (now useless) tutoring session.

You blurt that you love him.

You have feelings of romantic attraction towards him.

There's a brief pause that drags on, and on, and you can’t tell if Bill’s gonna reply at all (he's having an internal meltdown; the only reason he’s not blushing is cause he’s sheet white out of shock)

You’re on the verge of running away, moving schools, never showing your face in public ever again when he just says, “yeah.”

Or maybe he laughs in your face.

Your relationship? More of an ownership, an ego boost for him.

Bill makes you do a lot of things for him, even if he’s more than capable of doing them himself.

But he ensures you don’t stray too far – he wants to see you doing whatever menial task he ordered you to do.

Talks about you incessantly to anyone who will listen.

It’s mainly bragging, though. Even though he treats you like shit, Bill will somehow work your name into every single conversation and club meeting.

And also he WILL beat up anyone who badmouths you (verbally. Bill can't fight for his life)

He’ll also defend you online like crazy (what a sweetheart!), but all with his army of alt accounts.

Hardly even says “I love you,” or anything of the like.

You don’t really go on dates either – Bill just keeps you around and forces you to follow him wherever he goes.

Also HE approaches YOU, not the other way around.

One time you tried to ask if you could hang out and he didn’t speak to you for a few days (didn’t even make himself seen. If you did interact, it’s him making some misogynistic, cruel comment towards you)

Believe me, Bill was probably way more miserable than you were. 

He's a MASSIVE freak for physical touch, and majorly touch starved.

Even thinking about skin on skin contact makes him salivate.

Bill will shiver if your hands simply brushed.

Never holds your hand in public but GOD he wants to. Dreams about it all the time (speaking of dreams, you still show up in them. Every time he wakes up, his sexual frustration grows)

He'd love to just. Lay on you. Whether it be lying face down, head between your tits, or draped across you, it doesn’t matter.

Either way, his inward battle of misogyny and emotion has to fizzle out sometime soon.

Once you’re finally in a stage in which he’s more comfortable with the idea of having a… “girlfriend,” he’s gonna start touching.

I swear his hands will never leave your body, touching, groping, brushing.

He doesn’t care for hand holding in the romantic sense so much as the he-gets-to-touch-you-and-show-everyone-that-you’re-HIS sense.

Walking through the halls? Hand interlocked with yours. Sitting next to each other in class? Hand on your thigh. Standing side by side at Joe’s? Probably has his arm draped across your shoulders or resting on your hip.

And Bill likes unexpectedly grabbing you.

HARD.

You’ll be walking side by side in a public space and his fingers will just sink into your flesh with enough force to bruise (this freak gets so turned on if you squeak or squeal in reaction)

I have no idea what compels you to stay with him.

If you guys fight (probably often), he's never gonna say sorry. He’s definitely one of those people who will never admit they’re wrong

He's always gonna find some way to shift the blame on you.

But maybe it’s the fact that he's the only person that you have. He’s isolated you from your friends without you even noticing, and hasn't even realized what a wreck your life is now.

Break ups end with you or Bill crawling back to apologize to one another. 

Mostly you. Almost always, it’s you.

[enzosbabyangel]

ᥫ᭡ Day 2 . . . party sex with Theo

cw: 18+!, mdni, porn with very very minimal plot, public-ish sex, i honestly didn’t know what to do for this, mean!Theo, protected sex, degradation, suddenly obsessive/possessive Theo afterwards, Theo lowk getting an obsession on reader, light dark!Theo and content? If toxic and obsessive behaviour bothers you DON’T READ !! I don’t know how this of changed to a super mini story with the premise of party sex but uh yeah.

You scratched at the back of the man who had you held up and pinned to the dirty stall door of the club you were at.

How you got here was simple. You and your friends came to the club for valentines figuring none of you had dates. Spotted a cute guy who seemed to be here with his own friends. The man looked like he’d be such a softdom ‘n gentle fuck, but one of your friends didn’t agree, thought he’d be controlling and demanding. So what better thing then make a bet? you get a fuck and possibly money.

So you flirted the best way you could. Writing ‘Be my valentine’ on a condom and giving it to him with fuck me eyes. And now that you’re here it’s easy to say neither you nor your friend will be getting that cash.

You let out a choked moan as Theo’s hand made way up to your neck and roughly banged your head on the stall door. His thrusts fast and seemingly effortless as they managed to reach that special spot in you without fail each thrust.

“Is this what you do? give any half decent guy you see a condom and fuck me eyes then let them take you in the bathroom like some cock desperate slut?” He degraded. The occasional grunts from his own pleasure just making his words even hotter. It was confusing, he seemed so disgusted in you with one sentence but then the complete opposite the next. “But i doubt it, pussy to good ‘n tight for someone who whores around. Already addicted to your pretty ass pussy.”

He was being so mean and rough. Not even controlling, it was like you were a doll to him. He didn’t care about what you did, like it had no effect on him. Even when your legs around his waist kicked at his back from overstimulation or simply being too much. Or your nails scratching at the fabric of his sweater ‘n pulling some of the threads loose. Your hips banged into the door with each one of thrusts, hard enough to leave bruises.

Theo’s thumb made its way up to your mouth, pushing past the barrier of your lips. “Like this? Practically being used like a doll.”

You could only desperately nod. Your senses completely overwhelmed in such a delicious way.

Your simple and desperate obedience got Theo completely coming undone. Groans leaving his lips while his thrusts grew sloppy. He forced his thumb deeper into your mouth, pressing it against the back of your tongue as a rather sadistic grin formed on his unfairly handsome face.

“God.. you’re fucking mine now alright? Already so obsessed with you..” He’d say through pants before hiding his face into your neck. Sucking hickeys onto the soft skin where anyone would be able to see it before biting roughly into your neck to stifle his groans ‘n moans as he came, his hips stilling in you. Thank lord for a condom.

Your poor little fucked out brain didn’t really process his words, thinking they were said out of nothing but lust so you just babbled agreements. But after all was all said and done and he practically forced you to introduce him to your friends and immediately started acting like you two were officially together, not even allowing you to go home by yourself.

At first you found it hot, most likely due to the alcohol in both yours and his system. But when it continued even after that night it got worrisome, his behaviour getting more and more possessive, even more so after you confronted him about it. And got you hated how your panties got absolutely soaked at the clear red flags.

“No no. I don’t think you get it. I practically own you now, you agreed to that remember? Trust me, no guy would care about you like i do.”

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . written by enzosbabyangel, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

tags: @mattheoriddles-sluttt @weirdogirl888 @jennieonline @bella-713 @txzii @couch-potato69 @chalametlover444 @erika5373919882920

[ham-st4r]

90 DAYS OF PLEASURE - L. HS

PAIRING: HEESEUNG + FEM READER!

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

GENRE: 18+, smut, enemies to?

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

WORDCOUNT: 31,114k CHARACTERS 169,383k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were shocked, to say the least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn't wrack your brain with his antics.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's nothing."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay, you?" Jay asked Jake.

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

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

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

"Ehh, it can wait," Heeseung shrugs.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where's heeseung?" Jake wonders.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me? Says the guy who can’t eve-“

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

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

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

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

“How? You’re the one tha-“

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“DOWN!” Jake shouts, and you chuckle.

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Okay?” You wait for him to continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do it with me,” you shrug.

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

“Just continue,” you sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I DON’T!” he immediately denies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

Heeseung: You available?

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

You: Yes.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

You shook your head no slightly.

"Why?" Jay questioned.

"Cause he hates me."

"Cause she hates me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were just a complete mess for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

Good times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure?" Jake pushed on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

Heeseung: Yours

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

"It's eerily quiet toda-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will do," Jay chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't care jus-"

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, that," heeseung chuckles awkwardly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

Heeseung: 👀

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

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

You: 👀

Heeseung: Didn't think you'd answer 😳

You: What do you want? 🙄

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

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

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

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

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

Heeseung: See you then.

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

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

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

Why is he doing this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pepperoni and…."

"Pineapple"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you planned all this?" You chuckled.

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

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

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

-

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

"Sure!" You chirped.

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

"Okay," he kissed your cheek, neither of you thinking about how you ended up like this, just deciding to enjoy the moment while it lasted and go with the flow of things.

He leafed through his drawers, finding the smallest shirt he owned, and luckily, he had a pair of unused boxers that you could wear. He brought everything to you and slipped it through the crack of the door opening. "I'll wait outsid-" You grabbed his wrist instead of the clothes, practically dragging him back into the bathroom with you. You appreciate him wanting to give you your privacy, but you didn't mind having him there with you.

You both laughed out loud, you laughing at his shocked face and him laughing at your boldness. "Let me help you," he said, helping you slip your arms through the holes. He grabbed the front of his white button-up shirt, fastening it up for you and kissing you one button at a time. "Knew you'd look so cute in this," he compliments.

"Thank you," you blushed, and he kneeled down, helping you step into his boxers, pulling them all the way up for you, and kissing your hip bone. He finished dressing you, and at this point, you're not even sure how you were coherent cause he literally got on his knees to help you get dressed. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say you had fallen in love with him at some point tonight.

"All done," he stood up like he didn't just make your heart beat one thousand times faster. “Come on,”

He took your hand in his, stroking it with his thumb, leading you out of the bathroom as he turned off the lights in the bathroom before he went to his drawer, mindlessly dropping his towel at his feet while you sat on the bed he picked out his clothes, and you covered your blushing face it's not like you hadn't seen him naked nearly a hundred times but tonight felt different somehow.

He looked over, and he laughed softly, seeing you going all shy from his nudity.

He got a text on his phone alerting him that the food had arrived, and he mentally gave himself a pat on the back for getting everything right so far. "Wait here." he left and came back into his room a few minutes later with the food, getting comfortable on the bed as he let you take your choice of the first slice.

He grabbed the TV remote, turning on your favorite movie that was already set up on the TV before you even arrived.

"How did you know?" You ask him in surprise cause how the heck did he know your favorite food and movie?

"I don't know." he shrugged and grabbed a slice of pizza, trying to play off the fact that he was blushing.

He cut his eyes at you, and you were clearly still waiting for an answer. "Your first day at school, you mentioned it," he mumbled, getting all shy.

"You remembered? That was like months ago," you asked, your eyes twinkling with excitement.

"I always remember the things that I care about." he looked you straight in the eyes, and you immediately looked away, his gaze far too intense for your poor heart to handle.

He cleared his throat and turned to the movie playing on the screen while you both ate in silence.

Half an hour later, you both finished eating, and he set the empty box on his nightstand along with the cola that he let you have most of. How could he not when you asked him for more so nicely?

He pretended to stretch out and sneakily put his arm around your shoulder, laying back against the bed frame, bringing your body as close to his as humanly possible. His heart melts when you snuggle up to his chest, inhaling his scent, and he thinks now's the perfect time. Everything else went perfect, and there's no way this couldn't go perfect as well.

It just had to.

He stretched his free arm over to the drawer, pulling out the contract that you ripped, which was now taped and pieced all back together. “Y/n?” He calls out to you softly and you look up at him humming in acknowledgment.

He hands you the paper, and you look at the ripped contract. "Why do you still have the-" you stop mid-sentence, eyes going wide when you look at the bottom where there was a new addition.

"I really am not sure what to say, but I'll just say what I feel and hope it makes sense. I know things started out rough, but I've liked you since day one, and I couldn't help but at least try with you, so y/n, even though we said some mean things to each other and did some things with each other that enemies don't do, will you restart with me? I swear it can be like this all the time, and you were right. I was doing all that stuff to get your attention the only way I knew how, and I know it was silly, and I acted like a grade-schooler with a crush, but I'm sorry for spilling all those drinks on you," he pouted, and you couldn't help but laugh softly remembering those times. "And I'm sorry for everything else, too. I was just confused and jealous that I wasn't getting your attention. I just did whatever it took to at least get you to notice me, even if it was negative, and I don't know. I just think you're really special and just a great person overall. I want you in my life. And please tell me if this is too soon, but I've been thinking about it for a long time now, and I'd just like to ask if you'd give me the honor of being your boyfriend?" He holds the pen out for you, his hand shaking with nerves as he looks at you with his soft brown eyes.

This was not what you were expecting when he texted you tonight, but you were not disappointed by any means when you came over, and technically, it wasn't so soon. You'd known him for more than three months, and you saw what kind of guy he was when he was around his friends, not to mention you were literally wearing his clothes in his bed after eating the food he bought for you, and he treated you to an evening full of everything you could ever wish for you'd never forget the fun you had with him tonight and there wasn't any reason you could see to say no to him and on top of everything else yeji had the best friends ever and you trusted her judgment as much as you trusted Heeseung's intentions with you.

"YES!" you snatched the pen from his hand excitedly, enthusiastically circling the check box that said yes.

You put the paper down, hugging him so tight he could barely breathe, but he didn't care cause you just made him the happiest man on the planet. "Thank you for giving me a chance." he hugs you back, running his hand along your back.

"I should be the one thanking you. I'm sorry for everything, too; I never meant any of it." You booped the point of his nose. "You're not a pig, and you're not ugly in the mornings, and I don't hate you."

"Aww, It's okay, baby. I forgive you. You forgive me?" he laughs softly.

"Of course." You both smiled as he went in for a quick peck.

“You smell so good.” he buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you giggle shyly.

“Thank you, baby” you reply sheepishly.

"So, by the way, where do you want the wedding to be?" he says out of nowhere, shocking you.

"What?" You pulled away from his hug, confusion written all over your face. "What wedding?"

"Make sure you always read the fine print, baby. Now you're stuck with me." You both broke out into a fit of laughter, nothing but happiness reflecting in each other's eyes.

After your laughter died down a bit, you pouted, remembering what started this whole mess between you two in the first place.

"But wait, I thought you hated me."

"I never said that. You said you hated me!"

-

The next day at school, you and Heeseung arrived early, going to hang out with the rest of the group outside on the park bench where you all first met. You sat side by side, and heeseung rested his head on your shoulder. He was literally clinging to you all morning long. He didn't let you do anything without some part of him touching you, and you didn't mind cause you thought it was the cutest thing ever how he went from ignoring you to not being able to separate himself from you.

Your friend's jaws were dropped to the ground when they saw the two of you being so close to each other.

"Okay, what the fuck? I think we missed a few episodes here," Sunghoon says.

Jay laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I think we missed the whole damn series."

Heeseung smiled softly at your guy's friends and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hands wrapping around your waist as you ran your fingers through his shiny black hair, causing all your friends to fake gag at the blatant show of affection.

"Not a series, just 90 days." You smiled and rested your head on top of Heeseung's.

"I was there for the sneak peek preview!" Jake stood up and shouted, his fist held up in the air triumphantly. He had a feeling about the two of you practically from the start, but he couldn't give himself too much credit. You guys were a little obvious from the start, especially heeseung. Sunghoon quickly yanked him back down by his wrist so he'd stop shouting in the early morning.

You laughed at the two, shaking your head softly as heeseung tightened his hold around you. And who knew that a contract could change your life? This was the best summer ever and going to be the best fall with your boyfriend by your side, and though you both started on the wrong side, everything worked out in the end, all thanks to Heeseung and his contract….

90 days of pleasure.

FIN.

90 days of pleasure taglist🔖 @capri-cuntz @heeseungshim @haelahoops @kimochiloveshee @heesoo11 @hoonxclsvly @yjwluvs @rizzhee @hanjisunginc @enpynhee @zerasari @parksunghoonsgf @ionlyreadforfanfics @heesquared @rayofsunshineeee @heeoao @iamliacamila @moktahiya @nycapartmentsworld @enwrites @adeoluhh @meiskra @jungwoning8 @fakeuwus @littlelilies @wooziswife @jongsaengjay @heehoonsnemo @eneiyri @chubbypeach2111 @kaykay11sworld @eskopiganja @live-your-wild-life @chasing-acid @jakehooni @haesgurl6 @hello-stranger24 @en-happiness @alienqbrain @jvjsssnaa @amortapes @parkchimmylove @ethelia @seochannnn @httpsneptvnn @httpsrinrin @nellwoo @pasteltheghost16 @swimmingmoonmentality @mwahvvis @browniestraykidshiteu @rikisly @perfectnighttt @euphoric-tama @enha-enhypen @mimimovv @wannieepisod @nctislifue

Permanent taglist🔖 @moon7jay @heesitation @hee-pster @furious-eagle @hoyeonheeseung

Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback. - 🐹

[mihii-i]

hypnotized.

Pairings: caitlyn kiramman x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, modern au, CEO caitlyn, secretary reader, both are in their early 20s (23-24-ish), both giving and receiving for the reader but cait is kinda in control-ishhhh?? I don’t know I don’t like dom and sub titles, mutual jealousy, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, kind of drunk sex(?) but it’s consensual don’t worry, slight marking, fluffy, yes there is plot before the sexy time so calm down, this lowkey didn’t turn out good but who cares smh, timeskips of two or three months with each line cut, not proofread.

A/N: now playing — ayo technology by 50 cent. ohhhh I see how it is fine if my freaky fic get more likes then I post freaky fic that’s written decently and with plot how bout that yeah stop being thirsty smh guys this is /j and said with love i swear yall are amazing anyway 🕯️

Prolonged ticks of the clock’s hands flicking forward circled the empty enclosure, seemingly bouncing off of the glossed flooring your heels clicked along. Your eyelids briefly lowered upon catching sight of the thick glass shielded along the towering door before you, the lump in your throat bearing a heavy rock of anxiety you were unable to swallow back in the wake of her office only a few steps away.

It had always been an odd instinct of yours which you presumed every other employee had—intimidation. Your CEO was nothing short of a woman who invoked fear without even issuing threats of the sort, rather it primarily resided in the firm character Caitlyn upheld, strictly speaking out in a firm voice that compelled rival companies to shrink away in her presence. Perhaps that conflicting feeling that churned in your stomach could stem from the daunting front of her appearance she swerved into the office with everyday.

You’d think a CEO typically strayed away from a company environment, shrouding themselves in a veil of anonymity, coiled up in the deep shell of their own office in management to dictate every minute detail whether it was the dust on a computer, or the folding of a coffee cup. All while remaining strayed away from the bustling heat of the company itself, scrambling together every spreadsheet, descending their fingers onto a keyboard in rapid clicks all to keep it alive at the very least.

Not Caitlyn though.

You gradually found yourself hooked on the young woman’s conscientious and diligent approach toward affairs in the company, admiring how she firmly stood upon her push to aid the company in thriving. Despite her young age, Caitlyn ensured success in almost every operation she had conducted, her performance exceeding that of any previous CEOs, dare you say even her mother. That only brought up the wavering question that clashed within your head for so long, conflicting in a scrape of your thoughts against each other upon pondering why you felt so anxious around her.

Of course you hadn’t developed a crush on your superior. That would be stupid, not to mention unprofessional.

“You may come in now.”

Her voice snapped you out of your daze in a split second, your eyes flitting upward quickly to fix on her staring you down through the glass door, fingers intertwined in one another with her elbows planted on the desk as her chin rested atop her hands. You cleared your throat as your foot struggled to step forward toward the glass door, inching forward at a near frozen pace with the nonexistent weight of your tense muscles pushing back to prevent you from moving any further.

In one quick motion, you shouldered past the glass swiftly, hand grasping along the cool golden metal of the handles as you pushed the door open with the utmost care, watching your every little movement upon entering her office. You didn’t want to upset her by clumsily breaking anything, that was for sure. Caitlyn’s arms rested along the smoothed spruce of the table, pushing aside the sprawled out papers scattered along her desk in nearly every corner. Drags of black ink were sketched out along each sheet in thin strokes of her cursive writing on each page organized into neat margins.

Caitlyn extended her hand to gesture you into the swiveling leather chair situated before the desk walled before you two, seemingly examining your every little movement as you seated yourself into the opposing cushion of diamond-patterned black leather. Saying you were nervous was an understatement. Although you admired her from afar, close quarters interactions with her always sent you spiraling into a thick tunnel of apprehension, frequently holding your tongue before speaking any word at all.

What were you here for? Were you in some sort of trouble? Had you messed up something in the midst of your work? Seriously- could she just wipe that stern look off her face and tell you already-!?

“(Name), I believe I should simply be upfront with you. I don’t feel like dragging on a meeting to notify you of something so simple.” She pointed out, grabbing your attention as you slightly cocked your head to the side in curiosity. Drawing in a breath, her fingertips tapped along the pen situated to her right, rolling it back and forth along her index finger idly as those sharp swirls of blue bore into your frame. She straightened herself up immediately, dragging down the lapels of her blazer brushing along her tie.

“I’d like you to be my executive secretary, as I..don’t currently have one right now.”

Her abrupt statement was only followed by her exhaling as her gaze averted to the floor aligned with her desk. As if she was refraining from elaborating upon any further details. Typical. You didn’t expect much uttered from the lips of the refined woman after all, just her usual gestures as a sort of quick in and out with business.

With a complacent nod, you carefully withdrew your hands from the spruce desk, palms smoothing along the chiseled edge to roll your chair back and make space for you to stand upright to your full height.

“I..am grateful you consider me worthy. Thank you, Ms. Kiramman.” You replied, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact with your boss’s scrutinizing gaze drilling over, likely fumbling along the possibilities of what could go wrong with you serving as such. Caitlyn blinked for a brief moment, flicking her hand away in a gesture to brush you out of her office. Not exactly a rude gesture, yet one that signed you to leave her sight.

—

“Having trouble with something?”

Your voice caught the navy blue haired woman’s attention, her lips pursing inward as her perplexed expression irradiated within the shines of gentle, pale light from the lamp neatly lit at the corner of her desk. Caitlyn hummed in response with a tiny smile curving up her cheekbones lifting along her face. Recently, you had grown quite fond of her as opposed to your time preceding your position as her secretary, often exchanging as much as a smile with the CEO and engaging in casual conversation—sometimes even outside of work hours.

Simply put, you’ve gotten close to Caitlyn over the course of these few months in your position that kept you at her side. You often basked in the comfort of those little moments that flared a spark of warmth burning inside you when you were beside her, losing yourself in the sweet melody of her laugh residing as the only thing that stuck in your head. Finding yourself utterly fixated on random features of her whenever you’d hang out in a friendly manner after work, it was always a gamble at which what you’d choose to fixate on.

Maybe her neatly combed hair waved down past her shoulders, the volumized tint of dark blue like a deep ocean in the depths of midnight. Or perhaps the lighter blue of her eyes? They complimented her nose- and her smile too. Hell, even the small gap between her two front teeth that caught you in a trance whenever she did smile. Probably her hands?

You couldn’t choose. You liked looking at all of her, honestly.

Oh, but of course only as a friend. Your company would go to shit if you were to get into romantic territory with the literal CEO. Of course only is a friend, is what you’d keep telling yourself.

Caitlyn clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth as her eyes narrowed across the various sheets across her desk, flickering to her laptop occasionally as she kept her sights on one paper in particular with strokes of fancy writing and a red little thread at the end, a signature splotched along the bottom like an invitation of sorts. You blinked, noticing the little parched envelope splayed open, the red wax seal sitting between the tip of the fold and the center chipped apart, broken with the two ends able to fit together.

“An invite?” You inquired, resting an elbow against her chair as you bent over to skim along the neat arrangement of words in its request to some sort of hall banquet. She circled her thumb along the smoothed creases of the unfolded page, her silence uttering volumes of her hesitance to attend such an important, yet occupying event that would interfere with the initial plans she had arranged in her schedule.

“I’m not sure if I can attend…but at the same time not doing so would skip out on an opportunity. Considering the amount of wealthy investors we could have at the banquet that potentially serve as benefits to our own company.”

You bit your bottom lip in acknowledgment of the situation, opening your mouth to speak before Caitlyn’s words persisted in an unusual undertone of panic.

“Yet- there’s so many arrangements I planned to do on the day, so much work I planned to get done. I can’t possibly fit the stuff I need to do for the next day with keeping things going smoothly.”

Hand pressed flat to her shoulder, you attempted to deliver a comforting squeeze past the ridged shoulders of her blazer, albeit a bit hesitantly as you were still in a professional environment. Thankfully, Caitlyn didn’t find it in herself to keep up the front of her usual stern self, lulling her head against the headrest of her seat as her hand rested atop your own, occasionally tracing against the bumps of your knuckles on the dorsal side of your hand.

“I think you should go. You’ll find a way to fit everything. Besides, this is a a one time opportunity, no?”

Caitlyn’s eyebrows furrowed to contemplate your words, skidding her hands along the desk to take the pen in her grasp as she dwelled on your reasoning before settling on a resolute conclusion with your words into account.

“Perhaps you’re right. Not just for the investors, but just because everyone deserves to unwind probably.”

You stifled an amused huff, before quickly attempting your mask your smile, to which you failed. She peeked over at your uplifted features, responding with her own exhale in a feather light tone.

“Is something funny, (Name)?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow and unable to hide her own grin.

“Nope. I’ve just..never got the chance to mess with you outside of work.”

Caitlyn shook her head as her chin lifted to push the letter off to the side in a discard pile of papers she already read, setting down the pen squeezed between her clasped fingers in front of her. After shuffling through another paper or two, she tightened her hands around both sides of the stack and let it drop into aligning vertically to set it in a neat tower of sheets once more.

“Then shall we go out somewhere again? To ease your mind a little outside of our professional setting?”

Your lashes nearly blurred your vision as you nearly melted in her smooth voice, slick like glistening honey consuming all five senses into a trance that only left you thinking of Caitlyn.

“I think I’d like that.”

—

Well, judging from the months that passed, the party certainly wasn’t what you expected. A banquet hall booked in a lavish hotel. Alright.

The gentle atmosphere of faint gold diffused from the crystal chandelier hung on the towering ceiling left its mark upon every corner of the hall, its dull glow dwelling upon the red carpets and white cloth draped over the rounded tables. You awkwardly huddled in less populated spot beside a table situated to the left of the corridor, nurturing the glass of red wine huddled between your slippery hands, held to your chest.

Specks of wine sloshed around in the confines of the wine glass, staining the clean midpoint with deep red drops trickling back down to pool into the beverage you had only sipped once or twice. You swiftly adjusted your tie hanging below the folds of your collar, the bottom masked by your buttoned up blazer, as you didn’t want anyone judging you for being unkempt for so much as a stray hair strand sticking out.

Your shoulders rolled back as you found your gaze settling onto Caitlyn in the distance, a wave of relief putting you at ease upon seeing a familiar face apart from the managers of your company—whom of which you didn’t have too close of a relationship with. If you’re being honest, you didn’t even know they existed until recently. Maybe you should join her? You were her secretary, so if she was negotiating you should be there to listen in to important affairs as well.

Yet the moment you came remotely close to the vicinity to which crowds of elegant, refunded people stood circles around her, you quickly scrabbled back to a safe distance, keeping yourself far from the chatter and bellowing laughter flooding the clearing. That alien sensation twisting at your chest returned once more clouded your judgement in a thick fog, lingering within you ever since the party began whenever your view consisted of Caitlyn with another person. Especially any of those businesswomen that got weirdly touchy with her.

You scoffed, attempting to internally cut away those strings of jealousy tugging and squeezing at your heart in as if treating you garrote the beating muscle thumping against your chest. Squeezing the neck of the wine glass between your thumb and forefinger, your scrunched up expression could only be shrouded behind the swirling, thin layer of burgundy spilling past your lips and seeping onto your tongue.

“Ah, my secretary? She’s right there.”

Snapping your head over to the direction of your boss’s familar voice, accompanied by the easily classy accent rolling off her tongue you could distinguish within seconds. Holding the wine glass in your palm, fingers snaked above the neck to hold the base of the cusp, you noticed Caitlyn gesturing you to come over. Of course, accompanied by the stares of several others examining your every little move from that moment. Hesitantly, you stepped over to her until you brushed shoulder to shoulder with her, tense under the eyes of many glancing over you.

“So, about the deal you had struck to invest?”

A middle aged woman strode forwards as she shouldered past the crowds of people, tutting as she seemed satisfied with both the CEO and her secretary inquiring about a deal.

“Right. If I’m being honest, I’m seeking a piece of your company. Not just a small share. $6 million. I want 60% ownership.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widened, your own expression matching hers at the ridiculous ‘deal’ she thought she could strike. You opened your mouth to protest, composing yourself to assert your objection to the preposterous idea that she proposed.

“Hold on. 6 million isn’t even remotely close to match such a high ownership amount. You are aware that we’re somewhere in the billions in terms of company worth?”

The other woman rolled her eyes, cigar twirling between her fingers as her teeth ground together, pretending to think over your objection.

“I believe I asked the CEO, not her secretary with a pretty face.”

“You’ll get the same answer from Cai- Ms. Kiramman.”

Your swift correction earned a flicker of surprise across the other woman’s features, taking a hit of her cigar in a cloud of an awful stench stemmed from the dusty grey cloud causing you to choke out a cough.

“Hm. You must be closely acquainted with the chief executive officer to address her by her first name. Don’t tell me, you didn’t actually earn that position of yours?”

Your mouth nearly ran dry at her implications, horrified. You tried to alleviate the situation by speaking up. Saying something, anything. But she just kept going.

“Oh, Ms. Kiramman. What have I told you of ranking up those who aren’t qualified? If we’re talking about any other low company she would’ve been the CEO herself by now based off of the other services she could provide-“

“I advise you shut your fucking mouth.” Caitlyn bristled, the entire hall going dead silent at her foul words hissing through her teeth as she folded her arms. Her contorted expression of vexation remained glued to her face as she continued to speak, nearly making the other woman’s cigar slip out of her hands and tumble along the floor.

“I very obviously won’t be even remotely inclined to accept your offer. Especially since you have the gall to request something so obviously designed to take advantage of someone you deem to have less experience than you.”

She sucked in a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose as everyone’s eyes now dulled onto her, to which she didn’t pay any mind to. Her fingertips grazed your wrist for a moment, before she balled her hand up to retract from the bliss she found in your touch.

“My secretary and I..will be heading to our respective rooms for the night.” She murmured quietly, her tone hushed as she kept her thumb and forefinger pinched on the bridge of her nose.

Upon leading you to the front desk, you could only follow behind her in mindless motions as every word spoken after only registered as a soundless ring of translated into a high pitched buzz. Your blood ran cold with each lingering step shadowed behind you when you followed Caitlyn to the door of your hotel room, blinking as you were finally able to ground yourself back into reality the minute you set foot into the hotel room.

Gaze lingering in awe upon each piece of lavish decor furnished along the stands and shelves lined in gold frequently, you paused as you took in the sight of Caitlyn seated on the bed in front of you, blazer carelessly hanging off the edge of the couch’s armrest as she stared at the carpet with her legs crossed over one another.

“We’re staying in the same hotel room?”

She nodded, not even bothering to look up at you.

“Sorry. I should’ve confirmed whether you were okay with it.”

“No- no..it’s fine. I just- thought you might prefer some privacy.”

Caitlyn shook her head, eyes fixed down on her lap as her hands planted back onto the bed. Her tie loosely hung down her chest as she carefully reached one hand over to undo the ponytail that held her hair up, allowing the spills of dark blue to cascade down her shoulders before raising the same hand up to smooth out the front part of her hair. You only swallowed as your weight creased down on the bed as well, comfortably seating yourself onto the mattress next to her.

Was it just you, or did her lips look nicer today?

Of course with that exhaustion you withheld from drawling out throughout the whole party, you slurred the thoughts manifested into words, slipping right out like it was nothing.

“Your lips look beautiful today.”

You weren’t drunk. Not even close. Yet the way you let your front falter in the setting between the two of you, sharing the same room on the same bed—made you feel drunk off her presence alone. Intoxicated by the leash this woman practically had on you, not even voluntarily exerting her control over you, yet you offered yourself up to her embrace that engulfed you like a storm. Allowing yourself to crave the way you relished in your desire for Caitlyn.

And Caitlyn only.

Caitlyn rose an eyebrow to process the words you had just spoken, her hands drifting over to settle on her lap.

“Sorry? (Name)…I don’t think I heard you properly.”

You were tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t like…or rather love, this woman. Tired of letting the pesky environment of work, the facade of ‘professionalism’ shove back the feelings you held for her. Tired of using the excuse that she’s your boss when the two of you were clearly more than just boss and secretary outside of work.

You were tired of pretending you weren’t in love with Caitlyn.

“I said what I said..I’m so sick of pretending. Cait, I’m..sorry if this is abrupt. I love..”

Running your fingers through your scalp, you struggled to speak, taking note of how she uncrossed her legs and leaned in to give you her full attention. Her eyelids drooped into a sort of dreamy look of infatuation boring into you, reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, to which you nearly flinched due to the heat radiating off your cheeks.

“You were saying?”

You couldn’t even say what you wanted to, now stuttering words into incoherent vowels as meangingless noises drew out of you like a malfunctioning machine. Rolling your shoulders back, you couldn’t even begin to fathom the feverish warmth that crawled up your your neck to your jawline as Caitlyn leaned her body forward, practically forcing you to not break your gaze with her as her lips ghosted over yours, only a few centimeters away.

“That you were in love with me?”

Either your heart completely stopped, or rapidly beat faster, and you couldn’t put your finger on which one it is. Shallow breaths escaped your lips as you caught a glimpse of Caitlyn’s pupils dilate for a split second, to which you brushed off as nothing but a hallucination. You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, pursing your lips inward away from her, no matter how badly you wanted to lunge in for a kiss right then and there.

Caitlyn expelled a noise similar to a scoff, slipping her slender pointer finger below your chin to tilt your head up.

“Don’t do that. How else am I going to kiss you?”

That was more than enough to allow your lower lip to slide past your teeth back to their original position, unable to keep up with the fleeting, sudden change of pace as you felt soft flesh collide against your own. Locking both of your lips together as she hugged them in a fervent embrace, fingers dancing along your waist as her hand pressed flat against the fabric cloaking your ribcage. You couldn’t help the shrill whimper that you gasped out as Caitlyn impatiently fumbled with the buttons of your blazer, holding your shoulders to help you shrug off the article of clothing, yet not allowing you to break away from her lips fit snug against yours.

Heat crept along every inch of your skin in the ardent pursuit of your desire that Caitlyn had wrapped you in, her gentle sighs fanning along your lips as her fingers prodded and squeezed at various parts of your torso, even finding their way to slip beneath your bra and knead at the soft mounds of flesh occasionally as if her hands had a mind of their own. Upon pulling back, her eyes raked along your disheveled body, already so spent from a mere kiss.

“Cait..” you breathed out, leaning back as you kept your eyes locked on her tall stature towering before you, breath catching in your throat upon noticing the blue haired woman lift her shirt over her head to loom over you with that distinct fury of passion soaring within the pools of cerulean within her eyes.

“I was hoping you’d say it first. Glad my wish came true.” She chuckled, leaning her body over yours, hands planted firmly on either side of your body. Only this time, you weren’t nervous, nor did you pull away. You only wrapped your arms around her neck, touching your nose to hers as you allowed your vulnerability to be laid out on display, exposed to her as you knew you shared the seem feeling of entangling affection with Caitlyn.

“Gods...I love you, Cait. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, (Name). I can’t take hiding it anymore.”

Once more, both of you closed the little distance there was into yet another heated kiss, pressing your bare chest to hers as the warmth of your hands rested on her shoulders, both of your tops discarded at on the side of the bed atop the hotel room carpet. Her moans muffled against your swollen lips, hand desperately shuffling against the pearly skin of her back to unclasp her bra as you were met with Caitlyn’s lips grazing along your neck. To which you rolled your head back in hopes of providing more ease for her to kiss your throat.

Her sharp inhales jerked in rapid successions along the lining of your neck trailed to your collarbone, teeth occasionally tugging to leave faint blooms of red which she immediately dragged her tongue over to remedy as an apology. The two of you remained pressed to each other firmly, no space harbored between your bodies as you allowed yourself to surrender to the affection that swelled within you for her, spiking along every fiber in your body like a hypnotizing nectar that left you in a trance in her mercy. Only that, you weren’t hypnotized. No. You wanted her all to yourself.

You simply basked in the endearment of her touch gliding along your skin like a sacred dance, a touch she reserved for only you to feel as she nipped at your collarbone almost pathetically, yet maintaining the firm front. Quite a different side you allowed yourself to see of your boss, the side of her which you had the luxury to embrace behind closed doors.

“Can I..? Please, (Name).”

“Do whatever you please. I just want you right now.”

Caitlyn sat up, glancing over at the wine glass and tall bottle of Romanée-Conti wrapped up in a silk white bow. Looks like they wanted to accommodate the guests with a beverage as well. And an expensive one at that. Quickly, she was able to split open the lid with ease in a hurry, as if she was desperately rushing her way to chug the wine. Your hand rested on her forearm as your dull, yet ardent gaze eased her to go slow, your silence speaking volumes of your emphasis on the time you two had.

She exhaled through her nose, a smile quirking up one of her lips as she fumbled for the glass near the bedside table, allowing the deep red swirled with a tint of purple-ish tones around the rim waterfall to the middle of the cup. Screwing the lid back on with one hand, she carefully set the bottle back on the edge of the bed, before she quickly dropped her weight before you, earning a small ‘oof.’

Her thighs straddled either side of your waist, hand snaked beneath your chin to keep you in the grasp of her palm. You swore that she wanted like she wanted to devour you alive, transfixed intently on both your lips and chest with each rasped out gasp elicited from her.

“Open your mouth.” She commanded, immediately bringing the rim of the wine glass to your lips as she tilted your head back, keeping your head supported with her hand resting on the base of your neck. You slightly parted your lips, losing yourself in the rose-like bitterness of sweetness spilling down your chin, the drops of burgundy dribbling down your throat and trickling along the valley of your breasts.

Pulling away the wine from you abruptly, she downed the remaining before grasping the bottle once more, repeating the consumption of alcohol for the two of you atleast two or three more times before deeming herself satisfied. Of course, despite not being entirely hammered, you still found yourself a little lightheaded, vision blurring together for a moment as you took in Caitlyn’s flushed face directly in front of yours.

Even in the flurry of drunken feelings that supposedly fogged up your head, you knew full well you still craved her.

You could barely even process anything when the CEO disrobed before you almost entirely, kicking off her dark trousers to reveal the contrasting white of her panties stuck to her cunt from the slick accumulated against the fabric. To be completely honest, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t equally, if not more soaked than she was. After all, you were laying with your back flat against the bed, so deeply bonded and about to make love to the woman of your dreams.

“Do you think you can handle all my weight?”

You sat up a little, confused, before your face practically sparked to the temperature of a flame at the realization, managing a flustered nod. In moments, you could only watch in awe as she peeled off the damp cloth covering her pussy, her movements agonizingly slow.

Barely able to to respond to the alluring sight before you, you were cut off by her leering over as she inclined to meet her nose with yours, her body fully shoved up to yours.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself latching your mouth onto her clit as your back lay flush to the plush mattress, wallowing in the flurry of Caitlyn’s moans wrenching out of her throat as your tongue prodded at her slit to trace up and down, drinking up every drop of her essence dribbling down your chin with each obscene squelch of your tongue pulsing against her hole.

Her hoarse gasps slipped past her parted lips, back arching as her hips rolled forward against your mouth, your noises muffled against her cunt. Caitlyn’s breath caught in her throat as your tongue slipped down to attend to her folds, lapping at the velvety texture like a starved woman, as if every moan that ripped out of her was a prize you gained from the work you spent eating her cunt as her weight pressed against your face.

“Don’t…stop..”

You stifled a whine against her lubricated skin, fingers digging into her thighs to hoist her further apart, leaving a kiss on her thigh or a small reddened bruise periodically to look up at Caitlyn’s face, her head tipped back in bliss as her eyes squeezed shut with each drag of your tongue along her cunt, streams of her juices dribbling down your chin not too long after. Her chest heaved up and down, dusted in a pretty pink as she crawled off of you weakly, head lulling against your lower abdomen.

Reaching a hand out, you attempted to gain a lazy feel of her tits from below, to which you were immediately denied, her hand holding your wrist with a gentle smile juxtaposing her harsh curl on your wrist.

“Not yet.”

A perplexed expression crossed your face, before immediately widening your eyes at the foreign intrusion. You bit back a guttural moan as Caitlyn’s fingers slid past your own slick cunt, knuckles ridged along the throbbing walls of your cunt clenching around her. You drawled out in a chorus of drunken moans pouring out of you, alongside the overwhelming pools of slick puddles between your thighs to stain the sheets, eyes rolling back in ecstasy with each push of her fingers curling in your pussy.

You buried your face in her shoulder, eyes rolling back past your closed eyes as her palm ground against your clit with each controlled thrust, her repeated motions only drowning you in the pleasure of her warmth intertwined with yours.

“Fuck-! Cait-! Love you-! I love you I love you I love you!”

Your words drawled out as an incoherent plea, the utter pleasure her fingers plunged into you bundling closer and closer to the edge with your muscles tightening, as her movements grew more intense as you neared your inevitable orgasm.

…

“Mm..what time is it?” You whispered, peeking out at the slivers of moonlight illuminated in small streaks past the red curtains as you sat up from Caitlyn’s arms tightened around you like a vice, holding you against her chest.

The navy blue haired woman sat up beside you, groggily rubbing her eyes as she pulled you closer against her. “Uhm..I’d say around 2 a.m. I assume?”

You flopped back down into her arms, earning a soft laugh from her as your eyes fixed on the gap between her teeth. Nuzzling into Caitlyn’s shoulder, your hands flew back down to her waist, dragging the covers back over you two with your foot hoisting the thick blankets to cover your bare bodies.

“What about work tomorrow?”

“What about it, my darling (Name)?”

“Well, is this going to be an issue or-“

“Love, don’t worry about that. At all. Just rest, forget about the company for now, because that’s definitely what I’m doing in this moment.”

You smiled, cuddling up to her as your eyelids drooped and your body eased into the comfort of her touch, falling into the hold of Caitlyn’s affection.

Just keep yourself in the arms of the woman you love right now.

Everything’s going to turn out fine.

A/N: WHY AM I GETTING SO EMBARRASSED WRITING NSFW RECENTLY HOLY SHIT anywayyyy I have mixed feelings about this some parts were good some were complete ass but overall this is okay yes yippee

also yes, I based it off this edit by @glittrdust. on tiktok.

Anyway goodnight I’m TIRED I had awful writers block and my mental dictionary flew away while writing this omfg

ALSO HELP I SAVED THE END AND MY HEART DROPPED FOR A SEC BC IT SAID I DELETED THE DRAFT BUT THABK GOD I DIDNT I HAD A MINI HEART ATTACK OMFG

also no I’m not cheating on my beloved mizu with the other blue eyed wasian i love mizu im writing for her next again

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

playing with this bow (and arrow)

— chapter 1

author’s note: we’ve made it, folks. i’m writing yet another all-vibes meagre plot erotic thing. everybody act surprised!modern au (well, the 90s, since i’m so very consistent). classical musicians au set in beautiful brno. both viktor and reader are pushing 30. lots of longing and unresolved issues. reader is kind of insufferable, but oh well. you know exactly how i usually write her, don’t you? and, of course, my favorite thing to dabble with: failed marriages. also. i took it upon myself to give viktor a czech last name.

pairing: viktor x fem! reader

rating: mature. mildly nsfw-ish (some bitter masturbation), but expect explicit chapters in the future.

word count: 5k

—

Your bow plows through the strings like a thin dagger, wieldy in the hand of its swordswoman. You drag it to and fro, frenzied in a sweaty-templed convulsion. With your nyloned calves cramping from itchy tension, you almost leap swinging off the edge of your seat, pulling the cello south. The high-pitched finale of Saint-Saëns’ longest concerto finally perishes.

Your bow comes to rest on the A-string, idly fleeing away; the strain of your mouth relaxing, the flutter of eyelids ceasing. And when they spring up, unshielding your blown-out pupils, you have to flinch again—away from the scorching chandelier and its dozen artificial suns, struggling through the white patches in your retinas.

You hold a breath and bask in stunned silence, counting precisely four heartbeats before the audience erupts into a standing ovation. One. The air returns to their lungs, charging for a screeching Bravo! Two. They jump out of their seats, the rustling of their clothes merging into one big swish. Three. The silence finally perishes. Each pair of palms, no matter the size, joins in on the frantic clapping. Four. Someone demands an encore. The others pick it up like an obedient hive, yelling, cheering, impelling you to grab another hold of the bow. You turn towards the orchestra, crooking your best fake smile, and the cycle repeats until everyone runs out of lungfuls to request resumption. 

Then there would be flowers, hearty shoulder pats, and countless impressed gasps preceding wide-eyed dithyrambs: colleagues, students and occasional admirers all producing repetitive praises—the things once catering to your ego, yet long failing to fill the void now. 

‘You were marvelous, Professor.’ Of course they would say that. They could never quite catch your foibles, the way you shamefully strangled allegro moderato’s briskness, delivering but a decent-ish con-brio instead. 

But you’ve always known your etiquette. Turning down praise, no matter how generic, is bad manners. So what if marvelous hardly suited your performance? So what if you were after life-changing, masterful or flawless—everything you've been chasing and failing to seize, a distant idyll that kept slipping through your calloused fingers? 

So you’d shrink your shoulders and bob your head, returning the affectations, and the world would spin in a blur of your suffocating mediocrity until the afterglow of the concert had burned out, leaving you to your doleful tread down the reticent conservatory halls. Marvelous will have to suffice. You’d never call your skills something half as nice, after all. 

You slid the cello onto your hunched shoulders and its weight thumped against their blades, bending you in half. One last adjustment of the strap, and you were out of the dusty building—the heavy door budging under your shove, trading its carved whimsy for the wet, pitch-black grains of tarmacadam under your oxfords. You wanted to tumble right there, to rest your heavy head against the scabrous ground, drunk on the clean smell of ozone. August had no intention of overlapping with September this year, and Brno was drenched to the marrow nearly as soon as your tear-off calendar revealed a big two in fancy cursive. 

You stared at the streetlights, contemplating getting a taxi. The humidity couldn’t be any good for your Klingenthal—the mere thought of slackened plates and lax strings made you feel nauseous, and suddenly, the weight of the instrument in its shiny case had quadrupled. Taxi it is. There’s no chance you’re climbing the Golgotha with a cross that massive.

The Golgotha was what Viktor had dubbed the uphill walk to the bus stop—a spindly street, malicious with bumpy pavement—more so now that it was soaked with slick raindrops. The nickname would reach a twelve-year mark soon—an intimate inside joke that you still found hilarious. It reminded you of the better times, of the first flicker of rosin-colored eyes in the very cool halls behind you, back when neither of you was bound by the same last name or troubled with the title Professor.

You gently laid your cello on the backseat, stroking its downward slope; that, too, was Viktor’s doing—a fifth-anniversary gift, pricey as a fine vintage tends to be. You sighed and crawled into the passenger seat, tiredly announcing the destination to the driver. The man looked spent and drowsy, and you bit your cheek, cautiously staring at the instrument in its lacquered carapace. Your right hand found the ring on your left, anxiously teasing the metal warm.

“Please, drive safely.” You sank into the soft headrest. “My cello is very expensive.” 

The driver gave you a lazy nod and took off, slowly struggling up the Golgotha. The world had sagged under your eyelids. 

It was hard to tell when exactly things went wrong with Viktor. They say young love is bound to ruin you. There’s an inherent danger to it, a gamble of will it-won’t it. But even when it doesn’t tumble right away—there’s always something waiting to be discerned—a crack in the foundation that had been overlooked or deliberately ignored for years, a cancerous tumor surreptitiously waiting to reveal itself during the autopsy. The question is: who will be the first to reach for the scalpel in this marriage? 

You preferred ostracizing Viktor from his omissions. The trick required guile—a self-subjected mind game of believing that he could do no wrong. It was easier that way. How else were you supposed to bask in self-deprecation, to find more excuses for delving into your obsession? You picked a tale old as time—the sinner and the saint, the neglector and the neglected. I am the indiscretor, you chanted. The selfish wife. The bigamist, simultaneously married to man and music. There’s no redemption for me. And I shall make my heart bleed on the fingerboard. 

Dr. Talis didn’t like that approach. Matter of fact, he detested it, always trying his hardest not to roll his eyes at your weekly spirals into hypocrisy. 

“Don’t start, Mrs. Knirsch.” He’d tap his pen against the notepad—a brisk staccato of condemnation. “It’s hardly ever productive.”

Productive. You winced at the word and sliced the condensate with your finger, watching a pivot of sodden city lights creep into the dripping gash. It looked harsh: a cut of black and dazzle in the foggy car window, a mini starry night. You proceeded to carve more amorphous lines into the dusky glass: they dribbled into corpulence, crawling everywhere like thick oak roots. There were five of them—precisely the number of times Jayce had uttered ‘productive’ the last time you saw him, and so you added the sixth crooked mark—a struck-through one, prison tally style.

Dr. Talis was recommended to you by a concerned upstairs neighbor. She was a darling spinster, nosy—but benevolent. When Viktor bid his indefinite farewell, her motherly shoulder was the first (and only) one to welcome your puffy face. 

The next morning you were dragging up Petrov Hill, looking an utter mess—all laddered tights and tear-sodden cheeks. The shrink had taken you in before his opening hours, no questions asked. He hovered above you in the bulky stance of a weary, kind man, and you hit the wall, choking on whines.

But, as it often happens, that first impression was nothing short of mutual deception. His—of you crying all over his parquet. Yours—of him understandingly nodding along. Every session following that one was spent strictly within your confines. You quit sobbing. He quit being patient. A professional relationship built on a vulnerable mishap that had rarely occurred ever since.

And yet, you had nowhere else to go. This bespectacled, large therapist had become your only friend—a paid-for one, no less (and even so, you still confided in him quite selectively). Every Monday and Friday, you were sitting on his vintage couch, pondering anything but the issue at hand. All while he was trying to crack you again, confused by the loss of a miserable woman who had crawled to him at seven in the morning two months ago. 

For all it’s worth, you quite liked the man. There was an ineffable comfort in his mild incompetence, ridiculous height, motley ties, and expensive woolly sweaters. He always looked tired, browline glasses hanging low on a big nose, dark hair glinting with too much gel. His face was sheer jawline and perpetual morning shade (another ridiculous feature, considering you only ever booked evening sessions). You wondered if he’d worn the glasses just to sharpen his big eyes: light and perceptive, they stared right through you with tender, glassy might, clashing with his virile angles. 

His office resided in a moldy Austrian building—a two-story, worn-down thing flanking the cathedral, with its dusty Biedermeier windows staring right through the pretty lancets.

The place was hoarding all kinds of contentious trinkets—Tiffany lamps, fake flowers, checkered cushions, and little mockeries of classical masterpieces strewn across every wall. Mona Lisa smoking a cigarette. A frame from The Simpsons recreating The Last Supper. Venus boldly flashing the viewer instead of shyly covering her breasts with a dainty palm. 

Your only grievance with the place was the window. Such a clear view of the church’s insides made your sessions feel like soft-spoken confessions, supervised by Christ himself; the distant crucifix always dwelling somewhere in your peripheral, creeping in the bleakness of gorgeous neighboring windows. 

You’ve only properly visited the cathedral once: when Viktor volunteered to introduce you to Brno, utterly enraged by your scarce route of choice.

“How dare you disrespect us like that!” he murmured, shaking his head in earnest disapproval. “How come you’ve spent an entire year here, in the heart of Moravia, and yet the only walk you ever take is from the dorm to the conservatory? No, that won’t do! I have this thing,” he nudged you with his cane, earning himself a chuckle, “what’s your excuse?” 

So he showed you picturesque at its finest, from Old Town Hall to St. Peter and Paul’s—an entire day of labyrinths, ossuaries, and bunkers, a palette of Czech beauties guided by the main one—lanky, well-spoken, and dressed in corduroy head-to-toe. Too bad your most vivid memory from the church was Viktor’s nape, dissected into a dozen square watts of light and drowning in not-yet-overgrown hair, its prickly ends sunbleached—the pipeline of umber to ochre. You didn’t mind, though. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you,’ or however that cheesy saying goes. 

And now that swivel of maudlin was intruding on your attempts to fix the irreparable: twice a week, like clockwork, Jesus was poking his pierced-through legs into Jayce’s window, disturbing your therapy session. 

“Stop ogling Jesus’ feet, Mrs. Knirsch.” Jayce snapped his fingers at you—a dull, sweat-spoiled sound. You bolted and met his eyes, scrunching your nose in sudden awareness of some mawkish whiff in the room. The culprit—a reed aroma diffuser the color of cough syrup—was glowering at you from the coffee table, emitting stifling vanilla. 

You pulled at a stick, watching the oil dribble down the thin trunk. It made you smile, meek and lopsided—a shaky omen of inevitable distraction. The therapist clicked his tongue, drawing your attention back to his scorn. The clock above his head showed a quarter past six, meaning there were forty-five more minutes of confession left at your disposal. 

“I don’t like his feet.” You abandoned the reeds, pushing the bottle away. Jayce caught it just in time, sucking a furious breath: right before the essence had the chance to spill all over his Turkish carpet.

“Mrs. Knirsch.”

“What? They’re pale and disturbing. I don’t know how you can just sit here, having them stare at you all day.”

“Mrs. Knirsch!”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Because it reminds you of your ex-husband?”

“No, because I prefer to be addressed by my first name. And he’s still my husband. We’re merely going through a separation.” 

“Oh, believe me, with that attitude, you’re definitely going to end up divorced.”

“Are you sure you’re a real therapist? Can I see your license again?” 

Jayce didn’t react to that. He sighed and nosed his notepad, looking up at you from under his crooked glasses. The whimsy of bickering never lasted with him. It always dissolved when Jayce would return to the very thing therapists were meant for. 

Probing. 

“Please, remind me, why are you here?” Jayce coughed and propped his chin on a sturdy fist, taking his signature cross-legged interrogation stance.

You pondered his impressive knuckles, swallowing a lumpy gulp. They were thick digits of a stern man—digits that could’ve easily pulled classified information out of terrified KGB agents. You wondered if that was his occupation before he decided to become a shrink. 

You pulled your skirt over your knees, straightening into a defensive sapling. 

“I’m here to figure out why my husband wants to leave me—“ 

Jayce didn’t let you finish. His pen (that infuriating bauble!) loudly tapped the notepad again—like a makeshift incorrect buzzer. You wanted to tear the thing from his grip and throw it into Mona Lisa’s mouth, wincing with rage. But that option implied being ejected out of this quaint place.

So you decided to budge.

“I’m here because I work too much.”

The pen stopped mid-strike, hanging in the air. 

“And?” The therapist trailed off, tongue running over his palate in pregnant anticipation. 

“And I’m obsessed to the point of neglecting everyone around me. Myself included.”

Jayce smiled. The pen-guillotine withdrew from the blow, limply landing on the table.

“Correct.” He nodded, looking very pleased with himself. “Figuring out your Viktor business is but a bonus point. Speaking of the devil—“ Jayce licked his fingers and flicked the page, preparing a clean sheet for his observations. “How is he doing?” 

You stared at the clock, drawing a nasal breath. The dial foreboded forty more minutes of this torture. 

“I don’t know. He’s in London, playing Schubert.”

“Ah.” Jayce clicked his tongue. “So you do know. Is the separation not going as planned?”

You scoffed, tumbling against the couch, limbs flailing boneless in resignation. “The separation is going just fine. We haven’t spoken in two months. I just know he’s touring in Europe this time of the year.” 

“But have you seen each other?”

���We work at the same conservatory. Go figure.”

“How’s that, by the way?”

“Fine. My students think I’m their local Yo-Yo Ma, or something. The usual.”

“And what do you have to say about that?”

“I think they ought to go see a doctor for an ear irrigation.” 

Jayce huffed, quickly scribbling something down. “I see. Self-deprecating as ever. Well done, Mrs. Knirsch. No productivity in that capacity. But that’s all right. It’s a… process. Have you been following the curfew, at the very least?”

You chuckled at the wording, squeezing the hem of your skirt. ‘The curfew’ was a newly imposed restriction to help you overcome your compulsive rehearsing—no coming near the cello first thing in the morning (brush your teeth and have breakfast first, for god’s sake!), no playing it past eight PM, either. 

Now, this part of ‘the process’ has been rather dreary. If anything, you found it damaging to Jayce’s beloved productivity—it hardly did anything except make you count the torturous seconds until you were allowed to pick up the instrument again, fingers itching like those of an addict in urgent need of a fix. 

Anyhow.

“It’s okay,” you acquiesced, throwing your head back. The rippled ceiling gazed back at you, threatening to crumble into your eyes. “God. You really need to refresh this place. Am I not paying you enough?”

“As a matter of fact: yes. I don’t get paid nearly enough to catechize you like this twice a week.” 

“Ha!” You pointed your shaky finger at Jayce, smiling an accusatory grin. “I see what you did there. Catechize. You have a cathedral rearing your windows. Well done, Mr. Talis. Have you considered becoming a stand-up comedian?” 

“Define okay for me, Mrs. Knirsch.” 

“Okay is okay. What’s there to define?”

“Everything needs definition with you. I’m going to ask you again: please, define okay.”

You sat up.

“Well, I’m following it. I have an alarm set for eight PM. I still think it’s stupid, though. It accomplishes nothing but my misery.” 

The KGB interrogator melted back into a smiling man. 

“Excellent!” He affirmed, almost sing-songy. His pen followed in a sequence of happy scribbles. “That’s the aim.”

“What is? My misery?” You sneered, curtly eyeing the dial. Only thirty-two minutes left. Thirty-two endless minutes until you can finally play your guts out—if you make it home in time, that is. 

“No. The process. That’s how you treat an addiction.”

“Addiction? Please. Music is not heroin.” 

“I beg to differ. In your case, it might just be opium.” 

You sipped your bottom lip into your mouth and chewed on the soft tissue; tongue and teeth grinding over little wounds, tasting bronzey guilt. Dr. Talis pointed to his mouth, urging you to stop. You spat out your mangled lip and he watched it become plump again—all swollen skin dribbling with fresh bloody crescents. The incident was immediately reported to his little dossier. 

“You’re doing that thing to your lip again.” 

“I’m sorry. I can’t help. I always do that when I feel attacked.” 

“Oh. Admission. That’s nice, for a change. What made you feel attacked? Was it something I did?”

“It’s not you, per se. It’s Viktor. He said something similar about opium once. It’s a shrewd metaphor.”

“Shrewd enough to make you eat yourself alive like that?” 

“Don’t be a smartass. I’m contemplating cracking here.”

The minute hand shuffled, and you were reminded of the remaining half of the torture. You skimmed over the selection of Jayce’s caricatures, only to invariably linger on the voyeur-Venus, squinting for a better look. Ever since you first started coming here, she’d become a scapegoat for your telltales. Who could possibly be more vulnerable than a woman with her soul out? That’s right. A woman with her tits out. Though, you’d rather reveal the latter than the former. And the voyeur-Venus looked vastly more comfortable anyhow. 

Jayce hurried to intrude, shielding the painting as his head emerged from the notes. You groaned, having been reduced to the only bare person in the room again. 

“Do you think of him often?” 

He regretted the fumble right away. Your eyes had regained their bludgeon glint, aiming for his throat. 

“My partner of twelve years, seven of which we’ve been married, had just requested a separation. Take an educated guess.” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll rephrase the question. How often do you think of him?”

“My every waking moment. And, considering that I get six hours of sleep on a good night, that adds up to a rather pathetic sum of… about eighteen to twenty hours a day. All the time, Jayce. I think of him all the time.” 

“Once again, I’m so, so sorry. This separation—how long is it supposed to last? And, if it doesn’t help your cause—which, let’s hope it never comes down to that, yeah?” He shot you an apologetic smile, shakily clicking his pen. “What’s the plan in that case?” 

You glowered past him, tiredly seeking Venus again, and Jayce hunched, aiding the fervent pursuit of your beacon. But when the frame sprang up from above his head, you rejected it, squeezing your eyes shut. Temples full of pulsating blood, short nails deep under bleeding cuticles (Dr. Talis had put that down, too, by the way), and in a second you were recoiling at your embarrassed “I don’t know”—all dry throat and taut calves, charging as if to snap. 

Jayce blinked: once, twice. The third one must’ve been staged, just to match your three-syllable answer. He huffed, at last, wiping his glasses against his cashmere sweater.

“Don’t know…to the separation deadline or the plan in case you go through with the divorce?”

“All of it.” You whined. “Any of it. I live in willful ignorance.” 

“But why? Hasn’t it occurred to you to… at least request some ephemeral due date?”

“You’re judging me. Proper therapists are not supposed to do that.”

“Well, I’m no ‘proper’ therapist. I’m just the kind you need.” 

A giggle had rippled through the tears—a brief exchange of pathetic things coming in and out of your mouth. You tasted salt now, prickly, raw, and sizzling, a mess of wailing and mascara chunks, all dribbling down your chin and onto the mohair skirt, its saddle brown now speckled with wet carob. You tried to stop it, to push those shameful things back into your waterline, and yet they rolled, and rolled, and rolled, flooding the quaint office. Dr. Talis got his miserable patient back. 

He offered you his handkerchief, lamenting the decision as you loudly blew your nose into the shiny white. 

“I just… I felt like I had no say in it. I hurt him. He wanted a break from me. I simply went along.” 

“It’s not a question of who hurt whom. You’re supposed to make those decisions together, as a couple.” 

You looked up from the ruined cloth, blinking the blur away.  “I thought you were on his side.”

“There is no side.” Jayce tsked, mentally calling the dry cleaning. “You’re hurting too. It’s time you embraced it.” 

“Nonsense. I have no right to feel hurt.”

And then it came. The third pen-thud of the session, the weary frown, the infamous “Don’t start, Mrs. Knirsch. It’s hardly ever productive.” 

The hour hand was practically licking the chunky Franklin Gothic seven on the dial. It’s truly unsettling how much time one can waste sobbing. 

“Tell you what.” Jayce set his notepad on his lap, and you instantly arched, trying to sneak a glance. But, to your utmost disappointment, the thing was laid report-down, irrevocably classified. 

You flicked the last parched tear and shrugged, rolling the mascara crumbs between your thumb and index. “Tell me what.”

“By next Tuesday, I want you to prepare me a list of all the reasons why you feel hurt by this separation. Could be minor, inconsequential details. Could be something more tangible. Your choice. Anything but the absence of a due date, since we’ve already established that much.” 

You sniffled, peering at your hands. Black stains of makeup were drying on your calluses, enhancing the scabs of your labor. These were pockmarks of a true cellist—one-of-a-kind, immaculate, sensual. Suddenly, you were yearning for the instrument, to hell with curfew—your only desire was to have the beloved four strings cut through your fingertips, merging with the marrow. 

You quit picking at your dirty skin. “That’s just weird. I’m here to stop hurting Viktor. What you’re suggesting is just gloating in poor-me’s.”

Dr. Talis gripped his nose bridge, twisting it as if to snap the cartilage. “How do you expect to un-learn your hurtful ways when you hardly even know what hurt is?”

“What if I discover something I hate about him?”

“So be it!” Jayce rose to his feet. His knees made a crunchy sound, screaming for a long walk. “Any scenario where you feel anything but pointless guilt is a win in my book.” 

“Can I read it?” You nodded to his notes. 

“No chance.” 

“What about the handkerchief?”

“Keep it. I’m not interested in catching some weird, wailing disease.”

“Failed marriages are not contagious, you know.”

“And thank god for that!” 

You lumbered out of the car, spilling a bunch of korunas. They jarred onto the slippery pavement out of your loose pockets—a downpour of fives and tens, all swiveling in between sandy joints. The driver murmured a rhotic profanity, tutting at his scattered tip, and the cab trundled away, bobbing on the pebbles. 

“Sorry,” you offered into the alley, watching the plate number canter into the smog of the awry Veveří district. The curious upstairs neighbor gawked out of her window, hunching over the ledge; her frantic Einstein-blowout parted in twain, out like a greying halo. You tipped your head backward and waved, cracking your last smile of the night. She waved back and lolloped inside, heavy slippers shuffling around. You watched her disappear under the citrusy light of her lamp, swearing to never take therapist recommendations from sweet old ladies again. 

You conquered three flights of stairs with breathy effort, hanging on to the straps of your cello case. Then came the habitual array of jingling keys and wan grips on the doorframe—inevitably through stinging, agape pants as the instrument gently thumped to the floor, the hum of strings an eerie vibration in between plates. It’s an unwieldy position: back—pressed against the jaundiced wallpaper, legs—tangled in a frenetic kick-away of clunky oxfords, and, finally, you were free of your confines: stockings, scarf, and skirt, all divested of into a limp heap. The heavy coat plopped over the mess, leaving but a dirty shoe to glint from beneath the huge leather sleeve—a single unshielded thing, waiting to be swept to the side. 

The apartment greets you with a damp smack of bare feet against the saggy hardwood, the wallpaper daffodils becoming the cheery color of mustard when you roughly flicker the switch and idly grope your way through the half-lit rooms. You bump into the bathroom door—all awkward brushes of naked thighs—and the world cuts itself into dozens of paper-white tiles, their glint ghostly, almost asylumish. You yearn for the mirror, bending above the slippery sink. The reflection shows you a weary, barely clad woman. Her underwear slides down her legs, scrunching into a skimpy fold of—yet again—paper-white. Her tile-counterparts copy the sentiment: a bunch of flyweight-yous, all peeling the final layer of their dignity. 

This used to be Viktor’s job. The thought follows you into the glass door, refusing to vaporize even when you blast hot water into your mouth—like you expect it to somehow reach your brain and melt its austerity into obtuse condensation. Sick from chlorine, your capillaries pop like a bloodshot spill. The stream persists, crawling under your prickly lashes. Viktor’s face emerges from the froth, urging you to add some salt into this whirling cocktail, and the tears oblige, goading their way out of your waterlines.

Viktor bled kindness from his fingertips. You mourned the feeling of his hands, their slothful, caring glide over the gorges of your hip dips—gently peeling the lace from those pretty dents and dragging it over your darling convexities. An exciting, albeit not-yet-erotic dance. A sweet routine, every night before shower—a blessing long forgotten. 

You hold the soap under the steaming water in a vain attempt at feigning a human’s touch, its flit foreign on your back—a mushy lick that could never compete with the real thing. It pours in between your toes, thick and foamy; splits your body with milky rivulets, and lingers there in a murky trace—a study in things unfinished, a desperate search for whatever little hatred you’re allowed.

Your options assemble into the shittiest hand one could be dealt—a measly two-seven offsuit where two stands for the torturous months of his absence, and seven for the number of pathetic highs you dryly rode out around your sore fingers. Oh the miserable repercussions of sexual frustration. You contemplate upgrading it to two-eight, wet forehead tightly pressing against the glass, the squeak of clean skin a wince-igniting high-pitch. 

Your hand falters. The dirty double-down stops mid-slope, coiled under your breast—a skittish tug and drop, half-hard nipple seized mid-thumb and index. You try to blow on it as Viktor-esque as you can—a stupid, vicarious stunt, but your breath gets lost in the vapor, failing to land home. You quit the thing with a strangled groan, tepidly going straight for the main ache. The itch between your thighs welcomes one awkward finger, not nearly enough to make up for the loss of him—the painful opposite of a tight fit. 

Viktor. A two-syllabic, tender torture. You murmur the name like a breathy chant, the third reiteration half-assed and stumbling over the consonants. Your molars grind into powder when you claim your first head-to-toe shiver, the balls of your feet suddenly unsturdy. You think of his mouth, chapped lips upturned in a cruel denial of a kiss. The smell of him, now banished from the sheets with detergent. But you could still make it out: clean skin and the faintest whiff of piney soap. The very one slithering out of your grasp, the closest you’ve come to touching him in months. His button-down, forgotten on the shabby piano stool—the one you don’t dare move, as if trying to conjure him bent over the keys and vehemently taping out Beethoven. His penciled-in partiture, thrown all over the place—kitchen counters, desks, shelves and floors, a map of minuscule scribbles and serendipitous choices for countless coituses. 

Your high slips through your fingers, escaping down the drain. You change the angle, but the chase proves fruitless: your every inch both sensitive and senseless, a stubborn ache refusing to be tamed. With your lips bitten bloodless and your hair a wet sheet of cold strands, you screw the faucet, catching your angry face in its warped reflection. 

The strange, tired woman comes back, now smudged with runny mascara. You ponder her, naked and afraid, wrapped in the terror of her-your sudden revelation. 

You didn’t hate Viktor for leaving. To that, he was fully entitled. For that, you could even forgive him if only you tried hard enough. 

The culprit lay deeper. Uglier. Out of all his grudges, no matter how thoroughly you went over them, you always failed to find a single valid one. Hell, you failed to acknowledge there were any grudges to begin with. 

All along, you didn’t hate him for the separation. You hated him for finding a reason to separate. 

For being the first to reach for the scalpel. 

You stumble out of the shower, staring straight ahead. Viktor’s piano glints at you from the bedroom, sad and lacquered, with no fluff of hair darkly hovering above it. You linger in the doorway, wrinkled fingers damply groping the wall, and the naked staring contest lasts a few long minutes. That is, before you grow bored. That is, before you pivot into the hallway and drag the expensive tumor of your marriage out of its shiny case. 

At one in the morning, the sweet upstairs neighbor banged on your door with a noise complaint. 

But you couldn’t hear her. Not over the maniacal squeaking of strings. Well, what did she expect? Dvořák’s cello pieces are known for crescendos.

—

-> chapter 2

[neowinestainedress]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again.  Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask. 

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody. 

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro. 

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside. 

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.  

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver. 

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever. 

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him. 

What’s on the other side is worse. 

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture. 

“Surpriiise!!” 

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting. 

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck. 

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.” 

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh. 

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?” 

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.” 

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?” 

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt. 

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle. 

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.” 

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed. 

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.” 

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin. 

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on. 

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up. 

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead. 

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.” 

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.” 

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.” 

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens. 

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.” 

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different. 

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.” 

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.” 

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?” 

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.  

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.” 

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be. 

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.  

“Why?” 

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour. 

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?” 

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?” 

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat. 

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?” 

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.” 

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction. 

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?” 

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away. 

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?” 

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought. 

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?” 

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow. 

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.” 

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you. 

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.” 

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself? 

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again. 

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department. 

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans. 

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?” 

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.  

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?” 

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.” 

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.” 

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.” 

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop. 

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” 

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle. 

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?” 

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again. 

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?” 

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?” 

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not. 

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.” 

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again. 

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair. 

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.  

You gulp and automatically close your legs. 

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.” 

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —” 

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest. 

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.” 

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating. 

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.  

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.  

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.” 

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.” 

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?” 

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right? 

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.” 

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be. 

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.” 

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.  

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving. 

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass. 

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette. 

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down. 

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?” 

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?” 

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.” 

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.” 

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.  

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.” 

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.” 

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.” 

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” 

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.” 

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.” 

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward. 

“We didn’t kill anybody there.” 

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?” 

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?” 

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you. 

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.” 

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down. 

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask. 

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly. 

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to. 

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.” 

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.  

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie. 

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.” 

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.” 

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.” 

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky. 

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip. 

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you. 

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.” 

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones. 

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly. 

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?” 

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ” 

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person. 

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.  

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?” 

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds. 

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.” 

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment. 

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.” 

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.” 

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done. 

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.” 

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly. 

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?” 

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess. 

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words. 

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.” 

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity. 

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?” 

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?” 

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.” 

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.” 

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again. 

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin. 

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust. 

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair. 

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs. 

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.  

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly. 

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it. 

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?” 

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation. 

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?” 

“No,” you mumble.  

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” 

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly. 

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?” 

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.” 

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.  

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.” 

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.” 

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it. 

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.” 

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?  

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans. 

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?” 

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?” 

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now. 

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.” 

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe. 

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven. 

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.” 

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should. 

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place. 

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.” 

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet. 

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.” 

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see. 

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note. 

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ” 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

I’m kind of obsessed with the Jonmartin timeline and how Jon slowly fell in love with Martin, mostly off tape over seasons 2 and 3. I wrote a little bit of an essay trying to pinpoint the shifts and moments when we can tell something has changed. I love fanfics but I am just so interested in trying to figure out what happened in canon as close as possible. Of course this does involve speculation of emotions that we have no way of actually knowing because Jon Sims does not talk about his feelings.

Anyway it’s long-ish.

Jon fell in love with Martin over season 2 but didn’t start to realize it until late season 3 just before The Unknowing.

Martin starts the show with a crush on Jon. In MAG 22 when Martin makes his statement about the worms Jon feels guilty over how all of the pressure he’s put Martin under drives him to put himself in danger and he has Martin move into the archives to protect him which may be the first caring gesture he has made towards Martin but it’s a big one. Martin, who had a decent size crush on Jon beforehand, is blown away by this and his crush becomes a real big one.

Jon tries to continue being hard on Martin but he does noticeably soften towards him. His criticisms are half-hearted.

During Jane Prentice’s attack when Martin and Jon are in document storage Martin calls Jon out and properly snaps at him for dismissing the supernatural and Jon actually sees Martin in this moment for the first time. Martin had never talked back to him in such a way and Jon can now see him as not just his assistant who makes a lot of mistakes but as an equal who might know better than him in some aspects. They have their heart to heart and Jon is able to be honest for the first time since taking this job. He admits he’s scared and it’s okay, well it’s not okay because Jane Prentice might be moments away from killing them, but Martin doesn’t think any less of him. And then Jon asks if Martin is a ghost and he’s wrong and it was stupid but Martin makes fun of him in a way that doesn’t hurt and Jon isn’t used to that. And Martin, seeing this open and fragile and slightly dumb part of Jon, starts falling in love.

After Martin finds Gertrude’s body Jon is one track minded and focused on finding out what happened. Martin, giving his statement about the tunnels, is in tears not because he found a body and was scared, but because he accidentally left Jon. Jon was too distracted with finding answers at the moment but he heard it and absorbed it over time.

Season 2 Jon is full of nothing but paranoia and is unwilling to trust anyone but it’s his obsessive observations that lead him to getting to know Martin enough to love him. When Jon tries to come back from leave early Martin forces Jon to go home and rest more. Jon wonders what Martin is hiding but reasons that, no Martin is actually concerned about his health. Jon thinks Martin gave him a fake jar of ashes to calm him down, he doesn’t seem to think this gesture is part of a conspiracy, he genuinely thinks of this gesture as Martin lying to him to make him feel better. Jon notes that Martin has been very attentive to his needs and recovery and that he is interested to hear Jon’s theories about Gertrude. He remarks that he has observed Martin’s competence and cunning. Of course Jon is ridiculously paranoid and interprets this attention as some kind of plot against him to slow down his investigation and sees these positive attributes of Martin as reasons to see him as a threat, but again, Jon is absorbing it all. The lines in Jon’s supplementals about Martin’s attention to him implies that they’re spending a lot of time together off tape, at least more than they ever used to, probably at Martin’s insistence and Jon accepting this time by justifying to himself that he needs to watch Martin.

In MAG 53 Jon mentions that Martin hovers near him when he goes to the canteen and Martin says it’s because he’s concerned (based on Jon’s lie about how he got the cut from Michael). Martin offers to pick up a sandwich from the cafe and bring it back for Jon. He doesn’t ask Jon to come with him and Jon acts like he’s annoyed to be around Martin when he sits with him in the canteen, but Jon decides, No instead of me refusing the gesture for food or saying yes please pick up that sandwich for me, he says “I’ll come with” making another decision to spend time with Martin when he doesn’t have to. Maybe Jon tries to justify this to himself again by saying he’s keeping an eye on Martin but Jon has made no efforts to go spend extra time with Tim, who was an equal suspect, even before Tim was mad at Jon. (And may I add, if Jon tried this tactic with Tim, going out to lunch, watching him by spending time with him etc. maybe Tim wouldn’t have ended up being so angry with Jon.) But Jon is definitely making the effort to spend time with Martin when it frankly has nothing to do with his investigation no matter how he tries to spin it.

In MAG 56 when Jon makes Martin tell him what he’s been hiding and he finds out Martin had lied on his CV he is so relieved that he is giddy. He is smiling, laughing and stuttering. To Jon’s ‘rational’ mind this doesn’t fully clear Martin of suspicion but emotionally this really seems to be a weight off of his shoulders. On a subconscious level he can start to allow the time they’ve spent together to mean something other than just spying.

Meanwhile Martin can see what a hard time Jon is having and he can see him spinning out of control with paranoia and Martin tries really hard to defend him, maybe not the best thing, we know Martin is a bit of an enabler for Jon, but for Jon’s emotional arc of falling in love with Martin it is important that Jon hears Martin defending him to Tim in MAG 58. Martin never stops calling Jon out on his shit like when he tells Jon that he needs to talk to Tim and that Tim isn’t wrong but nowadays it feels like everyone is constantly calling Jon out, not that he doesn’t deserve it, but when Martin calls him out it’s still clear that he cares, whereas anyone else talking to Jon just seems to speak to him with malice.

At the beginning of season 3 Jon is hiding out and staying at Georgie’s place. We know from Season 4 MAG 149 that Jon used to go on about Martin to Georgie “a lot”. Georgie got the full story about The Archives in MAG 93 and Jon decides to move out of Georgie’s place in MAG 99 when he was then kidnapped by The Circus. There’s usually a week of time that passes between episodes unless otherwise implied and 93 and 94 take place over the same conversation on the same day so I’ll assume 5 weeks in which Jon was going on about Martin a lot with full context. He probably talked about him before then too only more cryptically. Importantly though in the Season 4 Q&A Alex asks, Who knew that Jon liked Martin first, Jon or Martin? And Jonny said “Georgie” so even though Jon didn’t know it yet, he was obviously smitten (at least obvious to Georgie who has dated Jon and recognizes signs of affection and romance in him more than anyone else would).

When Jon talks to Martin in MAG 102 there is a very slight almost imperceptible sweetness in Jon’s voice that we’ve never heard before. The way he assures Martin that it’s ok that he didn’t know he was kidnapped. There is a lot of awkwardness and frankly a lot of heavy breathing from both of them for probably just standing there. Their casual talk about the overall institute and Hannah who is having her baby and had that thing with the milk in the break room last year, Jon doesn’t know who she is but Martin knows that Jon knows her probably because they had been around her together since they spent so much time together last year but Jon was too paranoid and she had nothing to do with the plot, it’s just a very normal and domestic moment. Jon tells Martin he knows he’s been reading statements and Martin is just worried Jon will be jealous that he’s taking some of his job but instead Jon is just concerned for him. It’s different and they both know it’s different and they can both feel the conversation is charged with something but they don’t know what. “It’s not too late. Unless the world ends” means a lot in this conversation, yes it does literally mean it’s not too late for them to talk and continue whatever friendship they were stumbling towards in season 2. It’s not too late for them to pick up this weird, oddly charged and tender conversation that may be leading somewhere else. It’s also foreshadowing that it sort of is too late because their world will end when Jon effectively dies stopping the Unknowing.

By MAG 114 Jon says that he has listened to all of the tapes and has therefore heard the gossip about he and Martin. I think something clicked in his brain when he heard that Martin has a crush on him. He probably never considered that idea because things like romance are never on the forefront of his mind especially when he is in active danger, which he has been for the last 2 years, and even more so he wouldn’t expect someone to have feelings for him in general. Being conscious of the notion that Martin has feelings for him lead him to consider all of the strange feelings he’s been having about Martin over the last year and a half in a way that he might not have gotten to on his own until much later. It’s all part of the plan that Jon suggests Martin stay back at the Institute in front of Elias but Jon is genuinely relieved that Martin will be safer there.

In MAG 117 Jon talks about Daisy and Basira’s bond and how he’s been having to do everything by himself. He’s envious of their bond and we can tell he’s been thinking about how things could be if he had someone (Martin) by his side. I don’t think this part of his testament would have played out this way had he not been thinking a lot since he heard the tape. When he addresses the “office gossip” he is flustered. Possibly embarrassed that Georgie, who he trusts, was giving out this personal information to Melanie but I actually think he’s used to that specific type of gossip about him and I think that the nervous stutter and searching for words comes from trying to address the other part of the gossip, which he is still trying to wrap his head around.

It isn’t confirmed but I do think that Jon listened to everyone’s testimony before leaving and he heard Martin’s “I need him to be ok”. Later in MAG 139 Jon says “I need him to be okay. I just do.” I don’t think he’s consciously repeating the same phrase but I think this phrase has lived with him ever since he heard Martin say it and now it’s just organic to Jon too.

I genuinely do believe that at this point, as of MAG 117, all of Jon’s feelings for Martin are already there and internally he has at least accepted romantic feelings even if he wouldn’t have called it love then.

Jon is put in a 6 month coma the next night and is in a full tilt romantic arc the moment he wakes up. Not 20 minutes after waking from his coma he wants to see Martin, he’s surprised that Martin wasn’t there for him the moment he woke up. Maybe if you asked him the next day he’d say it was a silly notion for him to just expect Martin to be there at any given point no matter when he woke up, but a part of him accepted and knew that if Martin could have he would have been there.

Anyway, all this is to say that if he woke up from a coma desperately in love with Martin all of those feelings had to have been present before the coma. I know there was a lot more thought and consideration and emotional work that Jon had to do over season 4 before he could have been ready for his love to literally save Martin but all of the feelings were there by the time he woke up.

[synthetickitsune]

Ashes Settle, Left Behind ✧ y.jh [part 1]

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x ghost!reader (gn) Genre: horror-ish angst Summary: Everything eventually comes to an end. Life. Love. Even marriage only lasts until death do us apart. So why should a soul bond be any different? Word count: 10k Warnings: a lot of inaccuracies that we shall all ignore for the sake of the plot (pretty please), mentions of fire, jeonghan has an invisible stalker basically A/N: Things got a little out of hand but lately that's all they do when it comes to me and writing lmao... Anyway, excited to finally be sharing the first part of my addition for @svthub's world tour collab! It ended up being more fun (and longer) than I expected and the second part hopefully shouldn't take too long now - unless I feel like torturing these two more. Also shoutout to @wooahaeproductions for helping me find out about the fire of Seattle that started all this! -> svthub world tour masterlist -> [part 2] (coming soon!)

You feel a shift in the air.

As if a tomb was opened and you could breathe again, see the world again. You see the light at the end of a tunnel. You let it envelope you.

You take a breath but the air doesn’t reach your lungs. You feel light and airy. Not held down by gravity; your lungs not weighted down by ashes and smoke.

You raise your hands and see. See - but not yourself. Just a blur. Like looking at the world through water.

Your body’s not there.

Just a ghost. A lingering memory someone dreamed up after an eternity.

It takes an effort to come to terms with your existence. Again. With a completely new form, in a new time. You’re not sure what’s a bigger shock - your ethereal self or how much everything changed. 

You can’t wander out, caged in another memory kept preserved in the bones of the city you lived in. 

The people are different. The technology is different. It’s hard to understand, but you have nothing better to do than watch the people who come in and walk through the graveyard that is your home. And you learn. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

The modern world is easy to grasp, but life… not so much. There’s only one thing that’s for certain: something changed. 

Something made the change happen. You have no explanation as to how or why. But you know one thing. He has returned.

As if you’ve been longing for eternity, you feel so relieved you could cry.

You can clearly visualize it. Him bursting in through the door, embracing you and spinning with you in his arms with that pretty and carefree smile.

He’s coming home. Finally, he’s coming home again.

You should get the dinner started…

But…

The kitchen burned down.

The house burned down.

The city burned down.

Usually he’d be cursing his alarm right about now, but today Jeonghan is already awake and sipping coffee by the window of his little shop.

Despite only having slept a couple hours, he feels energized and ready to face the day. He’s sure the exhaustion would catch up with him later, but the benefit of being his own boss and living right above his workplace is that he could always spend his lunch break napping in the comfort of his bed if he needed to. Although he isn’t sure he’d manage to keep his eyes closed or get a decent sleep until he figured out his battle plan.

What battle?

Figuring out the decoration for the upcoming city festival. The thought alone makes him breathe deeply and bite back a smile.

It was made very clear throughout the negotiations that he and his shop wasn’t the first choice; the general mood was more along the lines of you’ll have to do because no one else would accept an offer this low. But Jeonghan truthfully didn’t mind, he didn’t even mind the low pay even though it’d barely make him any profit. It was an opportunity to put himself and his business out there and show what he and his team are capable of. 

Having only tipped their toes into the waters of providing decorations for big events, this was huge. There was nothing he loved more than making bouquets for his customers and bringing smiles to faces that he sometimes couldn’t even see, but he also craved success. Not to mention that if his shop got contracted for more deals like this (with better pay, hopefully), he could likely afford to take better care of the people helping him, which was ultimately a stronger drive to make it big than the status of a successful business owner.

“Someone’s up early.” 

He turns in the direction of the voice and sees Joshua and Seungkwan walking in, both with a cup of coffee in their hands. Seeing them, he feels like he could work nonstop for weeks, all the way until the festival.

If everything goes well, maybe they could start doing weddings. Joshua is always going on about wanting to design and make someone's wedding bouquet. He'd be ecstatic if they got the opportunity. Most of them would be, Jeonghan thinks. He's seen some of Jihoon's ideas scribbled on loose pages around the shop. They were perfect, some fit for a neat modern wedding, others straight out of fairytale. Seungkwan daydreams of making little flower crowns for the flower girls and flower boys. 

Weren’t they simply meant to do weddings? It's not an easy business venture to get into, but with the festival... It's a good opportunity. Or maybe he’s just too hopeful.

"Good morning" he greets his friends with a warm smile. "It's gonna be a busy day so why not start straight away?"

"Someone's in a good mood," Seungkwan teases, but he's smiling too. 

The morning routine is a breeze with one extra person. Eventually, Seokmin and Jihoon come in and join too as they all agreed to meet and plan for the big event ahead. The back room is cramped with all of them gathered - another sign they need to make a lot of money and expand.

Although Jeonghan likes it this way, likes how cozy the main space of the shop is.

“Is there any theme they want? Colors, aesthetic?” Joshua asks, “It’d be much easier if there was.”

“No,” Jeonghan sighs, “They didn’t mention anything, so I guess we’re free to do whatever. It’s a history faire so I guess they have no idea either.”

“So something that will survive drunk dudes pissing in it for anything that’s not hanging in the air it is,” Seungkwan claps his hands like it’s a done deal, turning the attention of everyone to himself.

“Don’t ruin your boss’ illusions, dude,” Seokmin scolds him immediately, whisper-shouting as if Jeonghan couldn’t hear.

“He’s right though,” Jihoon points out with a shrug. Jeonghan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s dream a little and aim for aesthetic over functionality, shall we,” he sighs, “Bushes and weeds might be practical and local but let’s take this opportunity seriously.”

He gives Joshua a sharp glare before he can speak up. He knows his friend isn’t entirely on board with this thing ever since he heard about the details of the meeting Jeonghan attended. He’s not stupid, he knows they’re not taken seriously and that, realistically, it will be a miracle if anyone cares what they do for the decorations. It is a good way to advertise themselves though. 

“We should do something fun,” Seokmin interrupts their little staring contest, “We could make something nice and historical.”

Jeonghan thought about the same thing, the issue is…

“Flowers aren’t really known to last long, you know,” Jihoon points out, “That’s their beauty.”

“It might be a challenge to find any historical inspiration,” Joshua hums in thought, “But it would be cool if we pulled it off.”

Everyone seems to agree, and it shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, Jeonghan's main goal whenever he was hiring was to create a team of people that would fit well together. He didn’t want them to feel like coworkers, and he couldn’t be happier that it truly feels like they’re friends first and colleagues second.

The idea grows and transforms. The idea of teambuilding is thrown around a lot, even though it sounds more like an excuse to hang out instead of doing actual research and hunting for ideas. Some suggestions are better than others, some more logical than others, but Jeonghan decides to sit back and relax. Whatever they do, he’s confident the end result will be great. They’ll do well. Even if this whole thing turns into one big hang out under the guise of working. It might do them well to have fun without any worries. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later.

The scene is all too familiar. You feel it just as you did those twenty-something years ago, although who really keeps track.

The light returning to your life. The world welcoming you back. It feels like it’s opening its arms to you now.

His arms. The safety, the security. The love. You yearn.

You feel it now almost physically; truly an oxymoron in your predicament.

You kept looking for him in the strange faces coming day after day, but it was never him. Not until now.

He’s coming home.

He’s close.

It makes your whole being tingle, like a magnet drawn to another, like a moth flying too close to a flame yet unable to pull back.

You feel the shift in the air. A rush of fresh breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and the scent of the meadow where he stole your first kiss.

He’s here.

“This is stupid,” Jeonghan grumbles. His arms are crossed over his chest and there’s a displeased wrinkle between his brows. He wasn’t prepared for the sudden temperature drop between outside and here.

“Inspiration is a mysterious thing,” Joshua smooths that wrinkle away and chuckles, “Besides this is research. And that was your idea if I remember correctly.”

“My idea,” Jeonghan hisses, “Was googling a bunch of stuff and then deciding what had the chance of best results. Not going on a history tour that will be useless.”

“It’s more authentic. We’re going to breathe in the atmosphere of the old city,” the other man shrugs, “And c’mon, can you believe we’ve never been on one of these?”

Yes. Yes, he’s perfectly willing to believe so, because these tours are for tourists and history nuts and they’re neither. They have a flower shop for god’s sake. 

He doesn’t say that aloud, however, because the tour guide appears and as grumpy as the cold might be making him, and as spiteful he might feel towards Joshua for dragging him here so early in the morning on their day off, he won’t spoil the mood. So he schools his expression into a curious smile and listens to the introduction.

It’s not too bad once he gets into it. Although it does absolutely nothing so far as searching for anything decoration-related goes and inspiration is yet to hit him, it’s interesting. More so than he expected. And Joshua being Joshua reads his mind well enough that he asks the questions Jeonghan is also curious about. The younger man gives him a knowing smile whenever Jeonghan nods along to the guide’s explanation. He rolls his eyes at him.

The tour is really nice - unexpectedly, they also discover a half-burned photograph of a couple with flower baskets behind them and also a newspaper clip with a photo of something that looked like a faire with flowers decorating the streets that his companion excitedly pointed out to him. Not that either of these were clear enough to get any real inspiration, but hey, at least they will have something to report back to the guys.

However, as the tour progresses, an uneasy feeling grows in Jeonghan’s stomach. He’s never had any real issue with claustrophobia, so he doesn’t think that’s it. Human bodies are weird though, and their minds even more so. He’s stronger than some irrational fear trying to pull a trick on him. Is it really a phobia though? Is phobia supposed to make him anxious to his bones and hit him with nausea that feels like a cold hand squeezing his stomach? His knees feel like they’ll buckle under him any moment now.

“Hey, Han, are you alright?”

He jumps and only the lump in his throat stops him from yelping when Joshua grabs his shoulder. He’s frowning.

“Sorry, is there anywhere my friend can sit down for a minute?”

He hears his friend speak but the words don’t really register in his mind. He lets himself be led to the side and sat down on a chair. He feels faint. His head is spinning. He barely hears whatever Joshua is saying.

He’s here.

He’s alive.

And in turn, his life makes you remember what it felt like to live.

You don’t need to breathe but in the instant you see him, you forget you ever could.

He looks different, but you’d recognize him anywhere.

His hair is longer. It looks good on him, framing his face like a dark halo. He looks like an angel. Did he come to save you?

The clothes he’s wearing make him seem out of place just like the rest of the group. Just a tourist in a place that he should call home. That he once did call home. You don’t recognize the man next to him, and your heart pangs. His friends used to be yours too.

You move closer without realizing. It feels like your entire body is pulsing with life long forgotten; with a heartbeat you no longer have.

He doesn’t look good.

He seems to feel unwell. The closer you get, the more it seems to hurt him. Love truly is violence.

The man next to him calls his name.

You repeat it. It’s different. It feels different on your tongue, yet it doesn’t feel unfamiliar. You suppose that just comes with the territory.

He looks like he’s about to lose consciousness. You can’t just watch him getting hurt.

You move closer, grabbing onto his arm the second before he can fall.

He doesn’t. Instead he suddenly straightens as shiver runs through his body. He seems disoriented when he looks through you. Almost like he can tell that’s where you are.

You’re dragged along with him by his friend. Even though you’re right in front of his face, he doesn’t see you. He looks like he’s about to faint. Pearls of cold sweat forming on his forehead, his teeth chattering and face deadly pale. His friend moves right through you when he crouches down in front of him.

“Jeonghan? Can you hear me?” he taps your lover’s leg without any reaction, “What’s going on?”

“Breathe,” you whisper. Like a magic trick, he does. He gasps for air like he’s drowning on dry land and his friend panics, shooting up to his feet and shaking his shoulder. 

“Slowly. You don’t belong to me yet,” there’s a bitter smile on your face when again he follows your instructions. Not yet.

It’s a strange and nauseating feeling. You don’t wish him death, but you long to hold and be held. His soul recognizes yours, it yearns for you too. But will his heart? Would his heart?

“Shua?” Jeonghan asks, brows furrowed and eyes vacant. He looks dazed, the color still drained from his face.

“Han? Can you hear me?” the man - Shua - tries again.

“Yeah,” your lover rubs his face, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“You scared me, man,” the other man sighs, “How do you feel?”

“Good, I’m good now. Isn’t it cold here?” Jeonghan rubs his arms, trying to get the feeling back in them as he stands up. Shua looks ready to catch him if he loses strength again and you feel a sense of pride. He always knew to choose his friends well.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a bit chilly,” Shua responds, apprehensive, and clearly not trusting Jeonghan’s legs not to give up on him again.

“We should head up,” Jeonghan says and tries to orient himself. You can’t let him go. His friend frowns. The temperature didn’t change since they entered, only Jeonghan did - you did. You latch onto his arm. You hold him like he’s the ghost that could disappear at any moment. 

His skin is warm under your touch. He shivers and looks at his arm, right where you hold him, before passing a hand over it. His fingers slip right through you. Nothing helps him chase away the cool sensation it seems.

“I’m not sure, Han,” Shua hesitates, “It’s pretty hot up there and you seem kind of… I don’t want you to feel worse because of the heat.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jeonghan manages a smile. The same smile you used to see every day.

“Are you sure? I don’t know about you but I can’t afford any hospital bill,” his friend jokes, earning himself an eye roll.

Tears burn at your eyes. His friends were always like that - caring, kind, but with a mischievous heart.

“Alright, lemme just check with the guide that it’s okay for us to just leave,” Shua finally concedes, seeing as your lover won’t budge. Jeonghan gives him a nod (and a smile when the man hesitates again - Jeonghan even sits down to finally get him going).

It’s just you and him.

He sighs. As he massages his arm to get some feeling back in it, his warm palm passes through you once more. He grimaces. Can he perhaps feel you? It doesn’t matter how little. Can he tell you’re with him? You know it’s selfish, so so selfish. But you crave acknowledgement. After so long, after waiting for so long…

He looks up, he looks in your direction - he’s still looking as confused and lost as before. A lost young man, a look you’ve seen on him before when he took you on a trip to the countryside. He always looked at you so fondly back then. And now he doesn’t see you at all. You want him to - as selfish and cruel as it is. As foolish as it is. You want it even though your heart would break. He’d be terrified. Perhaps he wouldn’t even recognize you. You don’t think he would but you hope, you wish. It’s not like you have any idea if the same feelings in your heart remained in his.

He keeps running his hand over his arm like an obsession, like he’s trying to ground himself. He massages it, he pokes at it, he pinches it. He must feel your touch somehow, he does - he just doesn’t recognize it, so can it really be said he feels it at all? You should let go. Whatever he feels, it’s not a pleasant feeling. But you can’t. You finally found him again. You can’t let go now. It’d be like letting go of the straw that keeps you from drowning.

“Jeonghan,” you try calling his new name aloud. A mere whisper.

Yet he whips his head up and gasps. His pupils shrink, his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. He freezes. Not a simple scare freeze - no, the type of fear rooted deep in human instinct, the fear of something unknown and unnatural, something that seems human but isn’t.

He meets your eyes. You truly think he does. His breath gets stuck in his chest.

“-aaand we’re clear to go!” Shua announces cheerfully, returning back in a rush - then he speeds up more when he sees Jeonghan, his face immediately falling. “Hey, you good?”

He needs to shake Jeonghan’s shoulder to get his friend to look at him. He gets no other reaction than a few blinks.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he tries to lighten the mood, although his brow is furrowed in worry.

Jeonghan is pale as a sheet. You notice he bites his tongue, he resolves himself to push back his true feelings - you’ve learned to read him like an open book. It only causes you more pain now.

“I just got a bit nauseous,” Jeonghan lies through his teeth, “I think I messed up my breakfast.”

“That’s why I keep telling you to consider the kitchen more of a decoration,” Shua huffs while he helps Jeonghan stand up, insists on it despite the other’s protests. He watches out for him even as he stands straight and steady.

“Let’s just go,” Jeonghan groans, “I think I should lie down.”

You don’t let go. You see his hand twitch as if he wants to touch his arm again but he stops himself.

You hang onto his arm. You haven’t managed to leave the buried remains of the past before, held back by an invisible force. It must’ve been fate looking out for you.

Or maybe it wasn’t, maybe you’re meant to haunt this place. 

Whatever happens though, trapped here or not, you will hold onto him until the last second.

You hold your redundant breath as you’re all nearing the exit.

You’re carried out, anchored to your lover. 

The sun shines through you.

“So, how did it go?” No surprise Jihoon is already back. They really should have bit the bullet and volunteered to drag him around. Looking back, Joshua really should’ve picked him over Jeonghan.

“Well…” Joshua hesitates and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

His arms still feels off. It’s cold - he thought maybe it was the wind blowing directly at it once they came out of the underground. (Not a leaf moved on the ground, but Jeonghan will ignore the fact. Maybe he just offended the wind in some way.) Maybe there really was something wrong with him. Could he eat some parasite in his food lately? Maybe. Honestly he would take anything over what he saw down there. Anything over being possessed by a ghost. He has too many things to achieve. He cannot afford to lose control of his body; wailing and being creepy is bad for the business.

“I feel better now,” he pats Joshua’s shoulder. It’s not a lie - or it won’t be in a while, once he gets lost in work. His arm still feels cold. Occasionally the feeling skims over his skin like a ghostly touch. He doesn’t want to entertain that thought. “Nothing to worry about, I just got a little dizzy. Maybe I slept too little?”

He thinks aloud, overacting but it works to make Joshua sigh in exasperation and Jihoon nod in understanding. Of course he would understand. 

“Look, just be careful, okay? We can get through one day without you, boss,” there’s a teasing lilt to Joshua’s voice when he calls him that but he coos at his friend anyway.

“Why don’t I start with the orders for tomorrow then, that’s easy enough,” he doesn’t wait for their agreement and instead goes to the back. Joshua will explain everything to Jihoon and he doesn’t necessarily need to be around for that. He knows they won’t protest if he takes on whatever he feels like, both a little too caring for their own good. That’s why he wants them to have easy lives, do well and be rich. A goal that will be a challenge if he starts losing his mind and seeing things suddenly. He shakes his head. Work. Focus on work and it’s gonna be fine.

And it is. They keep it cool in the back so the flowers don’t wilt as quickly. He would need to focus to feel the difference of temperatures on his body - so he won’t do that. He doesn’t need to think about much else while he prepares one bouquet after another, picking the right flowers, twisting stems together, tying bows… Although they should be getting ready for the festival and among other deals they have, they need to keep the core of the business running. It’s back to basics, but he loves it. He genuinely enjoys preparing the orders. Some of them are more specific than others, but he likes the artistic freedom of those in which he can just follow what occasion the bouquet is meant for and put his own twist to it. It’s an honor that so many people trust them to convey their feelings… or at least to create something pretty. He gets it, sometimes you just want to give someone a pretty flower without thinking about what it means.

He gets so into the work that he forgets about anything else and by the time Seokmin comes to get him, he’s done with everything. 

“You were faking it, weren’t you?” Seokmin accuses once he sees all the orders that needed to be prepared for tomorrow done and stored away. Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“Joshua is just too dramatic. You know him,” he sighs. His friend doesn’t seem convinced.

“Well, he looked really worried,” the younger man shifts on his spot nervously, “He said you looked like you’ll pass out. Like you saw a ghost.”

Jeonghan flinches a little. But he recovers quickly, gasping in a split second and hitting Seokmin’s shoulder lightly with a declaration of: “Don’t say scary things like that!”

Seokmin teases him for a while, but it’s fair enough. Jeonghan’s never been too scared of ghosts and such, never worried about being trapped underground forever - actually he doesn’t think there was ever a time his friends saw him scared, and the jokes remind him of that. Right. Ghosts aren’t real. He must’ve been just lightheaded or something. Maybe he’s more stressed about the planning than he realized previously.

“Right, I’ll do a coffee run, you want something?” Seokmin remembers, quickly getting to why he actually came.

“I’ll come with you, it’s hard to carry everything alone,” Jeonghan says as he washes his hands. 

He thinks about grabbing the jacket he keeps at the shop, but thinks better of it. It’s windy outside and Seokmin suggests he returns for it, but he absolutely won’t. The cold feeling shifted, resting around his hand as if assuring him it’s not going anywhere. Hand in unlovable hand - who said that? He shakes his head. It’s easier to ignore the sensation with the wind blowing this and that way, and Seokmin is good at distracting him.

They talk about the results of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s “research” while they wait in line and for their order to be made. It seems they were about as successful as him and Joshua, so Jihoon is their biggest hope. Not that it matters, it’s unreasonable to think anyone at the festival would care about the historical accuracy of the flowers used as decorations, and their shop focuses on the symbolism anyway, but Jeonghan likes little details like that. Even if it makes their work much harder. It would be nice to have something traditional or local for the centerpiece at least.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Seokmin asks all of a sudden. It takes him by surprise, but soon the expression is replaced by a soft smile. He nods. 

He’s not. But maybe the time he spends with his friends will help. Or maybe he’ll go mad and these are the last precious moments he has with them. Fortunately, the human mind isn’t capable of comprehending things in their entirety, and so even if his thoughts are gloomy, he can still smile. He’s grateful for that.  

“It was nothing. Maybe phobias are like allergies?” Jeonghan suggests, wondering, “Maybe they can just pop up randomly or disappear.”

“So you think I could get over my fear of bugs?” Seokmin considers the idea seriously.

“I’ll give you a raise if you do,” Jeonghan smirks and easily dodges his friend’s elbow aimed at his ribs. This is definitely better than obsessing over something out of his control. Something that might be all in his head.

(He still looks over his shoulder as they exit the cafe.)

As they sit at the round table - as Seokmin jokes - it’s very obvious everyone had a great time but it wasn’t really a productive means of reaching their research goal. They skip only quickly over his and Joshua’s trip, everyone well familiar with its less than ideal ending.

Jihoon of course agrees that local flora of history would be a great research topic for a thesis, but for now the idea remains to be extensively explored in resources that could be found at local libraries. (The silver lining though, clearly, is the stack of books in his bag resting against the wall.)

Seungkwan and Seokmin, who visited the botanical garden, did manage to get some interesting and useful information. A little miracle nobody counted on happening. They also went above and beyond to ask the visitors of the park about their favorite flowers. (“To make it like it’s made for them!” they claim, although the notion is as ridiculous as it is cute.)

Jeonghan enjoys listening to his friends, he really does. His eyes hurt with the effort to keep them on the person talking, always switching. He’s trying. But he’s so nauseous that it feels like he’s being continuously punched in the stomach.

His head feels like it’s full of cotton and fog, not a single thought forms itself in its entirety. All of them are just incoherent, broken pieces littering his mind. Jeonghan has never dived in his entire life, but he thinks he knows what it feels like now. He feels as though an entire ocean is pressing down on him. The meeting can’t end soon enough - as much as he loves listening to the chaos.

His friends fortunately aren’t blind and with all of them being aware of his almost collapse earlier, they don’t take long to catch on to Jeonghan not feeling his best. It takes some convincing that he’ll be fine, that he just needs to eat and rest, even as he’s putting all his strength into not doubling over and curling into fetal position to ease the sudden sinking fear gripping his entire body. They follow him the entire way to his door just upstairs. It’s comical, him and his four little ducklings. It eases the tension in his body and the fear, but he would lie if he said he doesn’t prefer to isolate himself whenever he’s not feeling well. He’s strong enough to lie and tell them he’ll be fine on his own.

The door closes behind him with what feels like finality. It feels like he just closed the door to his old life, though he wouldn’t hesitate to say it feels like he left his old world - whatever that means when there’s no other world. His apartment looks like it always did, like it did when he left this morning. It feels like that was eternity ago - he can summon the memories of his excitement, the energy he felt. There’s none left in him now. 

He lets his bag fall to the floor and lay there. He doesn’t bother to hang up his keys and lets them rest on the little shelf next to some trinkets the guys brought back from their holidays over the years. 

He drags himself to the living room and throws himself down on the sofa. He’s staring at the white ceiling, watches the stripes of lights and shadows following one after another where the glow of the street lamp is blocked by his blinds. It’s too quiet. 

He should wash up. There are many things he should do, actually, but he has no strength or will to get up. His stomach feels uncomfortable and his muscles are tense. That probably doesn’t help with how he’s feeling. He takes a couple deep breaths, slows down his breathing even if it feels like he’s going to pass out.

His head throbs, but it’s better than the nausea twisting his stomach. He thinks he’ll faint soon, something bad is bound to happen to him, his body overcome with heat, then cold, all within a minute. His breathing is getting heavier. He tries closing his eyes, searching for any small relief. Instead he’s more aware of his body. 

Something tells him to move, something so primal he doesn’t dare to disobey. Like his own body knows if something doesn’t happen right now, he’s gonna die. He groans when he pushes himself up, clinging to the back of the couch. He needs water. He makes it to the bathroom, supporting himself on the walls. It only gets worse. It keeps getting worse and worse and he’s lightheaded. 

He holds himself up against the sink and turns on the water. It feels icy against his skin, but that’s what he needs. He splashes his face with it, and the relief is slow but it’s there. He drinks out of his palms and the cold water sliding down his throat helps. He’s nauseous still, he feels dizzy, but not on the verge of breakdown. 

At least that’s until he looks up.

The mirror on the wall shows two reflections. 

He shrieks so loud his throat burns despite the cold water sticking to it. 

He thinks he blacks out for a second. 

But when he opens his eyes, he’s still standing in his bathroom. His hands are cramped, curled around the edges of the sink so that he doesn’t fall. 

The mirror still shows another person behind him. 

His own shriek resonates in his head and his throat burns more at the memory.

Part of him wishes that what he saw looked like a monster. Something straight out of a horror movie, something inhumane. But it’s just a person. Barely there, a shadow of a human being. Something that isn’t there when he turns to looks back.

He closes his eyes tightly and only blinks them open after a few long minutes. He doesn’t know what he expected, but what he feels is a resignation. Something in him gives up when the person doesn’t disappear when he looks into the mirror again. He refuses to check if something hasn’t changed and the stranger hasn’t manifested in his home - he’s seen enough horror movies for that. He’d rather keep his eyes on the reflection. 

“I lost my mind,” he laughs, his head hanging between his shoulders. Tears pool in his eyes. Was it stress? Was it karma for the pranks he played? What was it that finally did him in?

He looks up and the ghost is wearing a sad smile. As if it’s pitying him. He laughs again. Even the creation of his own shattering mind thinks him a pathetic clown.

“You should sleep,” a voice says, and at the same time: “I should sleep.” He says.

He hears it, but it takes a second to comprehend that the echo of his voice wasn’t truly his voice, but some other, second voice. The ghostly figure behind him never moved its lips. Never moved. Never spoke. It just keeps staring.

Has he seen the face before?

The underground flashes in front of his eyes. The split-second trick of the light he saw there. Goosebumps erupt all over his body. Could it be the same face?

Surely he just saw something, some picture - the picture on the tour? It must be a waking nightmare, just a stranger’s face he saw once. It’s said you never forget a face you’ve seen and this must be it. Maybe he slept less than he thought. He must be exhausted, his body must be shutting down. That’s why he’s losing it. His vision starts swimming. He’s dizzy from staring at the figure so intensely.

Something like sleep paralysis maybe? He’s awake but ready to pass out from exhaustion. That must be it.

“Sleep,” he speaks again, and like before, there’s the echo of the second voice. He’s sure it’s just his sleep paralysis demon speaking. He’s pathetic enough that even demons would pity him.

Sleep… He needs to go to sleep. That much is obvious. But sleep seems like the stupid thing to do. He rubs his face again, splashes more cold water on it, but the ghost doesn’t disappear. So he does the unthinkable.

He turns around suddenly. So suddenly his head hurts and he almost loses his balance. He winces, but there is no one. No solid figure, no ghastly figure, nothing. Cautiously, he reaches forward, but he feels nothing. There’s the need to check the mirror again gnawing at the back of his mind, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns off the light so he can’t see at all. He extends his hand again but still - nothing. He takes a couple deep breaths and bolts. 

He’s stumbling and banging against the walls, but he makes it to his bedroom. He jumps on his bed, covers his body with a blanket and pants. His body is shivering, trembling, tight like his every muscle is cramped. It’s hard to breathe, the lump in his throat taking up too much space, the air can’t get through. He remembers the phone in his pocket and takes it out. It lights up and he can finally see again. 

It’s just him under the blanket. Only his body and nothing else. He sits up again. It makes him dizzy, the blanket falls. The phone lights up the room but it’s empty. It’s just him.

He sighs. 

He falls back, staring at the ceiling like he did before. The nausea is gone for the most part, and now that he’s lying down, he doesn’t feel like he’s gonna pass out in the next second. There is only the dread and anxiety left that make him lightheaded and wide awake despite the exhaustion. He knows his body will give out before his mind does, but that’s worse. He knows it’s gonna create nasty nightmares to haunt him, and it’s the last thing he needs today. He honestly feels like crying. He feels like calling someone - but what’s he gonna say? ‘Hey, I think I saw a ghost in my bathroom, can you come over?’ That sounds way too pathetic. It’s too late to ask anyone to come over, and to ask if they could stay over too. At least without a good reason. He knows he can rely on his friends, knows they wouldn’t ask questions and be there within minutes, but his pride won’t allow it. And looking like he does - he can imagine the mess that he is right now - they might not ask, but they’d be worried. Jeonghan doesn’t want that above all. 

So he takes a couple of deep breaths. If there is a ghost in his bathroom… If there is a ghost anywhere, if he is possessed… What’s he supposed to do about it at midnight? Nothing. There’s nothing he can do. 

He reasons with himself. He’s exhausted. He can feel his very bones weighing him down, and he already had some sort of breakdown earlier on the tour. Must be stress. Must be hunger - he doesn’t feel hungry at all, but except for breakfast, did he eat anything the whole day? He can only remember the breakfast and the toast Seungkwan basically forced down his throat. Must be that he’s starving. Must be the lack of sleep. Even though he felt energized, that doesn’t mean he was. His body must’ve lied to him - and now his own eyes and mind are lying to him. That must be it. There’s no way ghosts exist. 

He turns to his side and checks the calendar. It shouldn’t be too busy tomorrow, that should give them plenty of chances to brainstorm about the festival some more. He focuses on that. The festival. The orders they should get done tomorrow. All the practical and necessary day-to-day things. He should get some groceries too. A warm, home cooked meal would do him good, even if it was something simple that he cooked. It all must’ve been just exhaustion and hunger. 

He lets the screen go dark. He can barely make out his reflection in the dim light coming in through the window. Only his reflection. That soothes him a little. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore anyway. He listens to the sounds of the apartment and everything sounds as it should. No movement, no steps, no doors making funny sounds. He’ll laugh about it in the morning. He’ll tell the guys and they’ll laugh about it together. That’s how it’s gonna be. He allows himself a tiny smile.

Just a sleep paralysis that came too early. 

Errors happen even in the human body. 

That’s just how it is. 

You watch him fall asleep.

You don’t have a body, yet it feels like you do all the same. The pain feels real, even if it doesn’t have anywhere to anchor itself to. Passing points, your own ghosts of neurons shooting signals to each other in a messed up web all over your being. You are a nebula of pain.

It was obvious what’s going to happen. You knew it well. Yet it left your heart shattered on his bathroom floor. 

What hurts more - the terror in his eyes or that he doesn’t recognize you? Well, he has his own life now, one without you, so you suppose there’s only so many memories he can carry with himself. And you simply have no place among them.

It hurts. You want to scream, but you can’t - not in a way that would bring relief. And what if he hears you? In what universe could you endure seeing more of his panic? You know the answer.

Seeing him so exhausted hurt you too. Was it hard carrying you around? Bringing a second soul probably leaves a toll on the body just like carrying another body would. You wished to speak to him, but how could you utter a word when seeing you made him react the way he did. You don’t want him to lose his mind. You’ll have to be smart. You don’t want to hurt him more than you’re already doing. You can carry the hurt of the situation, you can withstand the hurt he causes you because it’s not his fault. Not his fault at all. Not yours either, you think, you hope, but you definitely have more power here. You comfort yourself with the knowledge you could probably talk to him. Just not tonight when the fear is fresh. 

You move closer to him, gently move some of his hair away from his face as if you were a cold breeze blowing in through the window. He looks angelic. His features are much softer than you remember, but he’s as handsome as he always was. You lie down beside him, admiring him in his sleep. It’s not gonna be a restful night. You see the first frown twist his face, and it stabs you right in your chest. You can’t protect him from nightmares, but you’ll share the pain.

Even if he won’t know.

“Wow,” Jihoon exclaims the moment he sees him, “You look-”

“- awful.”

“- like shit.”

Both Seokmin and Joshua pipe in. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

As expected, the night wasn’t kind to him at all. Well, perhaps he could find some silver lining in the fact that despite the night being quite hot, he was so exhausted he didn’t even notice. And despite the nightmares and the heat, he didn’t wake up sweaty and disgusting.

Anyway, he didn’t have the courage to wander into his bathroom and avoided mirrors like the plague, so he probably looks a mess anyway. 

(It was pathetic enough to crawl on the floor and blindly feel for his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink without really stepping inside. To take a shower there was out of the question. Okay, maybe he was a little disgusting.)

“I couldn’t sleep well,” he shrugs, “Neighbours decided to have a party.”

The young couple living in the apartment above his own were actually the ideal neighbors, but that was good - with no reason to talk about them much, the lie would go unnoticed. He got several understanding nods in response.

“And… you feeling okay?” Seungkwan asks, and he’s once again touched by his friends’ concern that is mirrored on all three faces.

“Yeah,” he tries a small smile, “Would be better if I got actual sleep but it is what it is.”

“You can sneak out during lunch break, we won’t tell the boss,” Seokmin gives him an exaggerated wink. He scoffs, but smiles anyway. It’s genuine.

This is better. Normal is better. Last night feels like a fever dream compared to this. Just a joke played on him by his exhausted body and mind. He’s still shaken by it, though, the cracks it left in his confidence in himself and what reality is are still too sharp to joke about it. He hopes that by tomorrow he gets some quality sleep and his shit together.

“Anyway, let’s get to work so Friday isn’t a pain in the ass,” he claps, rolling his eyes at Seungkwan’s mock salute. 

He’s more grateful than he could ever express for these guys. The nightmare of last night is easily forgettable and written off as a glitch in the matrix with them around. 

When a cold breeze circles and brushes around his wrist though, as if lingering like a lover’s touch, he shivers and breaks out in cold sweat anyway. He turns around. He sees nothing. 

As it should be.

(Then why does he feel the hairs at the back of his neck stand up?)

You’ve always admired his hard working nature. The honesty and dedication with which he works. It’s quite the change from the man you used to know back then - you’d never think you’ll get to see him one day selling flowers, but it seems to suit the present day version of him. Very little of him changed in the aspects that matter. Bodies are no more than a shell to be eventually discarded - or that’s how you came to think of them over your short experience of being just a wandering soul.

You’re careful not to hover too close too often. He flinches any time the wind blows in, even if it’s a work of nature and not your touch. And so you lost your excuse to touch him. It still makes you uneasy to keep your distance. Your heart is filled with anxiety whenever you lose contact with him, terrified of being dragged back into the underground by the same mysterious power that allowed you to leave when you latched onto him.

Jeonghan’s friends watch him closely - trying to be as inconspicuous as they can to go unnoticed by him. Yet he does notice them, smiling a little to himself. He seems troubled but he hides it well. At least from everyone who can’t float around him and see him when nobody is looking. It pains your heart, it really does. But it can’t be helped - you can’t help it. Your instinct screams to stay close to your lover after what, decades - centuries? No way you’re letting him disappear from you now.

It’s painful to watch him be cautious and on guard, to be the only one aware of it, and the only one on the receiving end of this icy attitude. You don’t blame him. But it hurts. You’re tempted, oh so tempted, to take advantage of the moments when he speaks to his friends, moments when you know he’d fake being alright, to touch him. To wrap your arms around him and hold him. Just for a second.

He’s yours. Can’t he see? Can’t he feel it? His soul is yours, yours is his. Doesn’t he know?

It makes you angry. Some part of you is furious with him for not feeling the tug of your bond. It’s so deeply interwoven in your heart, bound to your very existence. Why else would you be awakened to your afterlife if not to meet him? To be one with him again?

And he doesn’t even bother to care about you.

All he seems to care about is how repulsive your touch is to him. When he’s left alone in the room, he turns around helplessly, desperately searching for something that is not there, yet something that makes his skin crawl, that invades his space, that he can’t run away from. 

Why would he run?

His eyes are wide and panicked, teary. You can see yourself in their reflection and you feel shame that makes you draw back.

But he’s still scared. He doesn’t know you back away from him.

He’s still backing himself into a corner, or against a wall, or a desk, or against soft blooming flowers that stop him in his tracks. And then you are reminded of his gentle touch and tender caresses and you want to weep. 

He might be terrified of the summer breeze, but he never harms the flowers. He stops himself before he can knock them over.

You’re a monster, and it hurts. You’re a monster but it hurts. You’re a monster despite and because it hurts. Being a ghost cannot possibly be described in any other way than the simple statement I am in pain.

You don’t want to hurt him. Yet it seems that’s all you can do.

You’re angry and you’re hurt, your emotions come and go like the waves at the sea.

And he’s hiding it all so well, acting like he lost his balance when his friends start returning. He laughs, pretty and bright. Like he was never on the verge of tears.

Truth be told though, it’s hard. He wants to break down, but he can’t and he won’t. Jeonghan won’t let them see him cry, he won’t tell them anything. He’ll let them tease him, he’ll whine at them. He’ll laugh. It’s important as a business owner to be able to act, to pretend. It’s what he’s always done. He doesn’t need help. He can do this.

It’s harder to let the work swallow him whole, however. He feels eyes on him. Hand frozen just a breath away from his skin. It makes him jumpy, but fortunately that can be easily written off and joked about as just him dozing off. It wouldn’t be the first time lack of sleep made him act weird, and for once he’s glad for that. At the same time, though, it stings. 

He wants to be comforted, to be reassured. At the same time, he doesn’t want his friends to be concerned about something that might just be his mind playing tricks on him. But it really doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. He can’t explain it; the impending sense of doom, like he’s about to have a heart attack. The fear so strong and urgent it enables him to act with absolute serenity. Jeonghan knows it’s not just the exhaustion - which means that yesterday was no play of the shadows in his bathroom either. It makes him nauseous all over again. It makes the scent of flowers overwhelming.

He makes it through the maintenance and prep for tomorrow with only a few tiny hiccups. Mostly due to the efforts of his friends to keep him entertained. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to thank them. They might quite literally be saving his life - or his sanity at the very least. But isn’t it the same thing at the end of the day - his life and his ability to comprehend that he’s living this life.

After the necessary is done at a record pace, a couple hours earlier than it would take under normal circumstances, they sit down according to plan to brainstorm. It’s more fun now that they abandoned the pressure of sticking to tradition and history - which in hindsight should be obvious to be impossible. It’s not like even if they wanted to, even if they could, it would be viable to only use the local wildflowers for all the decor.

Jihoon also shocks everyone when, unlike Seungkwan, he provides the list of artists and other entertainers who’ll be present at the festival. (“What? I have friends too, you know,” he scoffs when everyone turns to look at him with their mouths hanging open and Seungkwan grumbling to himself.) 

Most of the musicians are local and undiscovered artists, but it helps with imagining the vibe the festival will have. It’s starting to come together when they look up the official program and list of activities that will be available. Surprisingly it seems that it truly aims to celebrate the city’s history, if one’s willing to look past the few necessary activities for children that are planned. And memories, remembering, cherishing, all that is so easy to express through flower language. 

A little too easy. 

And Jeonghan is yet again grateful to his friends for a thing he’d find a little annoying any other day.

“We don’t have to have it figured out today,” he tries to join the conversation again, tries to steer it in a more productive direction. It’s hardly a conversation anymore, rather a contest of who can be the loudest. Jeonghan’s eyes meet with Jihoon’s who shrugs and lifts the paper in front of him. There’s a rough drawing of what looks like possible table decoration with arrows and names pointing to individual flowers that Jeonghan can’t make out through the flurry of hands thrown around in wild gestures. Jihoon mouths a what do you think? to him anyway, although he can’t quite respond.

He runs a hand through his hair just as Seungkwan scolds Joshua for apparently making the centerpiece look too much like a funeral decoration.

If something really has possessed him, he wonders what the entity must be thinking…

“Jeonghan was saying something,” Jihoon grumbles out of nowhere, and even though Jeonghan himself could barely make out what the other was saying, the room goes quiet and all the four heads turn in his direction. He sighs. Like he needs more eyes on him. At least these he can see.

“We don’t have to get everything finalized today,” Jeonghan reminds everyone and starts picking different colored highlighters from the table. He swipes different colors over the individual items on the list of everything they were contracted to provide. He tries to be fair with the division of labor and closely monitors the reaction when he slides the paper further down the table for everyone to check out. 

“I think it’s best if everyone picks out something and comes up with ideas for that,” Jeonghan suggests, “We have enough time, so let’s meet about it in two weeks. And if you have any ideas for the other things, write them down too.”

“Do you want to pick first?” Seokmin asks but Jeonghan shakes his head.

“I’m fine with whatever,” he waves them off. It’s not like he could get himself to consider and focus right now. Honestly he can’t be sure yet how big of a deal whatever’s happening to him is, so it’s better this way. If there’s a risk of him not doing as good of a job as he could, why take something one of the guys would enjoy?

He watches with fond eyes as his friends bicker over the colors more seriously than the tasks. He spins the pen he’s holding between his fingers. The eyes he feels on his back constantly never disappear but somehow it seems like he’s not the main focus now. Is he losing his mind for real? Jeonghan rubs his eyes. 

It’s like he can feel it. Like he can feel something hover around. He doesn’t see anything, truth be told he doesn’t feel anything unless… It feels foolish to say until it touches him because there’s nothing there but there’s no better way to explain it. If that something was a person, he can feel their gaze shifting. If it was a person, who could it be? He made his fair share of mistakes in his life, but he doesn’t think he’s ever hurt anyone enough for them to haunt him.

“Well, that leaves the centerpiece for you,” Joshua slides the paper back to him. He whines.

“Is it because Seungkwan hates your idea?” Jeonghan complains. He doesn’t care, not much anyway (although it does put a lot of pressure on him), as long as they’re happy but he is worried. It’s a big responsibility, and if this whole issue he’s having will drag on, can he do a good job? He doesn’t want to let them down.

“It’s because you’re the owner. You should be the star,” Seungkwan pushes at his shoulder. Jeonghan hopes his smile is convincing enough. He hopes they’ll read the anxiety only for the half of the worries they’re meant to see.

“Always being nice to me only when it’s convenient, I see,” he sighs, shaking his head. At least he can smile for real now. At least he can forget somewhat about the eyes when he play-fights with them. 

They throw around ideas for a while longer and go through the timeline again - when is the next meeting with the organizers, when are they going to need to make the order, when to start with the work. That’s gonna be the main issue - to manage everything in time along with the other jobs they have. It’s not like there aren’t ways to get around it, but it’s another huge thing on Jeonghan’s plate to figure out.

It’s not exactly a tiring day and all things considered, Jeonghan feels quite refreshed when he makes it home. Mostly because Joshua insists on hanging out with him for a while, so that takes away the anxious edge he feels about coming home. Still, he thinks it must be because the other man worries about his breakdown yesterday and it irritates him a little.

He doesn’t even know a half of it - if he knew the whole story, Jeonghan’s positive Joshua would treat him differently. Like a freak. Then the guilt hits. Joshua is too kind for his own good and Jeonghan’s paranoid. Of course his best friend would try to understand, he’d probably help him come up with a logical solution and offer support. It’s just Jeonghan’s mind trying to isolate him like it always does when he’s going through something. He wishes he could blame it on whatever nightmare he’s dreamed up, but he really can’t.

Once the door closes behind Joshua, Jeonghan feels like his heart dropped into his stomach. He can’t swallow. He can barely breathe. Not that there’s anything preventing him, but he can’t set any rhythm to taking breaths that would allow him not to choke. He’s gasping for breath, his ears ringing.

The eyes are on him.

They were the whole time, but he could push it to the back of his mind. Now it’s all coming back to him in full force.

He can feel them, burning into his back.

When he turns around, there will be nothing there.

He does, slowly, hesitantly, eyes glued to the floor. It takes all his will power to look up.

Nothing.

He smiles bitterly. At this point he’d prefer it if he was hallucinating as well. He wants to see that thing that he saw in the bathroom yesterday. Anything that would make it more real and less like a delusion brought on by a sudden attack of claustrophobia. Because he’s not going insane. He won’t lose his mind from a silly visit of a historical site that Joshua brought him on. 

Then a thought hits him - what if Joshua finds out about it somehow? If his best friend ever learns about what Jeonghan is going through, he’ll feel guilty. Like he’s not already beating himself over that sudden spell of nausea that overcame him then and over Jeonghan’s exhaustion and weakness.

He has to solve this. He has to figure it out, at least. Make any kind of first step of getting rid of this. Yesterday, he could easily dismiss it as a punishment for pushing himself too much - what else could he do? It was late, he needed to sleep. His own body protected him from the horrors that he can’t avoid today in the daylight. Sure, he’s still exhausted, but it simply doesn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense. There’s no reason for him to have a psychotic break, so why? Why is this happening right when he most needs to be in a good condition? His fists clench and unclench, his jaw set. His eyes burn holes into the air in front of him. He can feel something there. He knows it’s there. He doesn’t understand why, he doesn’t understand what he’s dealing with, but he’s going to figure it out. Now.

Jeonghan struts into the bathroom and in the mirror - nothing. Only him. He takes a couple of deep angry breaths that sound too loud in the silent bathroom.

Not a speck of dust stirs. There’s no breeze. No cold ghostly touches brushing against his skin. If it was a dream, a trick of his exhausted body and mind, so be it. But he needs to be sure.“Show yourself,” he spits, “If there’s anything - anyone - following me, show yourself right now.”

[kradogsrats]

The Mystery of Blacksteel Sanctum: A Retrospective

So, I loved TDP: Xadia, right? And my no-question favorite region was the Border: best environments, best NPCs, best-ish puzzles (look that ones a close call, okay), and best, most lore-rich story... which, in true TDP fashion, winds up raising more questions than it answers.

This post, and the thought I've put into it, are kind of my love letter to that story... and the other people who loved it, or could have loved it.

So: let's talk about what was going on in Blacksteel Sanctum.

Catch-Up Summary for Non-Players

If you played TDP: Xadia during its brief lifespan, you can skip this section. But to bring anyone who didn't up to speed:

In the Border region, a joint effort is underway to establish and secure reliable routes for crossing between Xadia and the Human Kingdoms. This is challenged by two fronts of enemies—magma crawlers, an aggressive part-bug and part-crab pest species infesting the area, and Saranar and the Dawnbringers, a faction of rebel Sunfire elves hostile to the new peace. The missions for the region are thereby divided into two "plotlines" directed by accompanying NPCs: the crawler plot, led by human rogue zoologist Mervyn and ending with the Crawler Queen boss, and the Blacksteel Sanctum plot, led by Sunfire elf Knight Ravna and ending with the Blacksteel Forgemaster boss.

Got it? Okay.

Digging for the Truth: Blacksteel Sanctum Basics

After first encountering the (sealed) Blacksteel Sanctum beneath the surface of the Border, Ravna expresses shock that not only is the Sanctum here, but that it's even real. She summarizes its story as:

This is a fairly standard Atlantis-style story—a place of legendary technological or magical wonders, brought low by some calamity and its secrets lost forever. In this case, it's reportedly where the Sunfire elves started their journey as master smiths of magically-enhanced weapons and armor, but also largely considered to be a myth.

Knowing that Blacksteel Sanctum was real, can we determine what was actually being made there? Well, there's a prominent crossroads location in the Blacksteel Sanctum mission maps, a setpiece room featuring a massive, gilded statue:

(That's not the room, but it is the same statue. Because of the way the game's camera and controls were set up, the statue was excruciatingly difficult to get even halfway-decent screen captures of in its in-game setting.)

Between the statue and the prominent, repeated use of the rune from Janai's Sunforge blade sheath as a decorative motif, it seems likely that Blacksteel Sanctum is the place where the first of the so-called "Sunforge" blades were, uh, forged. That technique was then either passed to or replicated by the Sunforge smiths.

There's even an answer for how Blacksteel Sanctum could compete with the Sunforge in magical power: in one of the magma crawler storyline missions, Mervyn concludes that "the same primal magic that led the ancient elves to build Blacksteel Sanctum here has attracted the crawlers." That source, whatever it is/was, made Blacksteel Sanctum's forges powerful enough to craft the first of the ever-burning blades that would later only be achievable with the Sunforge.

However, what should be considered the real trademark creation of Blacksteel Sanctum (as we shall see) is one Ravna is entirely unfamiliar with: those autonomous combat golems. She initially assumes they are strange suits of armor, and is astonished when they are able to move and fight, which suggests that not only did this technology never leave the Sanctum, it wasn't even preserved in the legends... and may have been deliberately excluded. At the same time, the golems are clearly the weapons the Dawnbringers are looking for, with Saranar stating her intending to march an army of them to retake Lux Aurea (after eliminating the humans and loyalist Sunfire elves securing the Border, of course). This raises the question: how exactly did the Dawnbringers find out about them? (Put a pin in that, we'll come back to it.)

Bearing Her Mark: The Forgemaster

In what is learned from exploring the Sanctum, a single significant figure emerges: the Forgemaster. She appears in a couple of recurring murals (technically they're on the floor, probably since that's the easiest area for the player to see), depicted as a radiant, almost queen-like leader of legendary stature:

Who appears to even send her people into battle:

This could just be figurative, in that she's sending forth Sunfire elf warriors through equipping them with the best and most powerful weapons. It's also very unclear who the enemy they are fighting actually is—the blocky, hooded figures contrast with the horned elves in a way that suggests they might be humans, possibly including dark mages?

Possibly confusing the timeline even more, the clearest reference to the Forgemaster as an actual person is the Signet of the Forgemaster item and its text:

All of Lux Aurea knew that armor bearing her mark would be as strong as her will.

From this, we know that the Forgemaster lived at a time contemporary with Lux Aurea—which doesn't actually tell us a huge amount, given that Elarion stood for a thousand years or more and Lux Aurea is no doubt even older. Did she leave Lux Aurea to establish Blacksteel Sanctum? Was this before the Sunforge, or maybe before the Sunforge was an actual forge-forge? If magical smithing was unknown to the Sunfire elves before Blacksteel Sanctum, presumably the Sunforge either didn't yet exist or was used for other purposes.

The problem is mostly that we don't have any real concept of what "ancient" means to elves. If we the Blacksteel Sanctum murals depict dark mages, that would mean that it can't have been buried more than 1,000 years, unless we're going to reject the conventional understanding of when dark magic entered the picture. Is 1,000 years ago considered "ancient" for elves? I wouldn't expect it to be, but realistically we just don't know.

(That being said, for Blacksteel Sanctum to have been founded shortly after the continent was split for the expulsion of humans would explain things like the discovery of a buried source of primal magic, unearthed by the massive geologic shift. The part I can't wrap my head around is the idea that the Sunfire elves didn't discover magical smithing until the same time that humans were being given dark magic... but I could get used to the idea.)

Anyway, in addition to this mysterious figure of the past, there's also, y'know... this Forgemaster:

I.e., the "Blacksteel Forgemaster" golem, the first region boss encounter for the Border.

Story-wise, the Forgemaster golem is first referenced in an encounter with a Dawnbringer group that it exterminated, where the dying captain speaks of a "gleaming giant" defending the lower reaches of the Sanctum from exploration. Ravna confirms this account, and declares that the golem must be eliminated for further investigation of the Sanctum. Even at this point, it's not exactly a secret that there's a connection between this golem and the Sanctum's master smith:

This is made even more explicit after defeating the golem, when Ravna reveals that she went to inspect its remains, and it reactivated at her touch to deliver a message:

Now, Ravna seems to think that this was essentially a pre-recorded message stored in the golem, which is otherwise autonomous, but mindless. However, having played a video game or two with very similar plotlines... even if it's not where things start out, someone always eventually starts stuffing souls into these things. Personally, I have no doubt that this was the Forgemaster herself, or whatever shreds of her remained. This is also the first place we get an explicit reference to the Sanctum's downfall—that the Forgemaster herself went too far, and that horrible act, whatever it was, led to the Sanctum being abandoned.

Ravna is sympathetic to the Forgemaster golem's plea to let the Sanctum's secrets remain buried, and decides that once the scattered remnants of the Dawnbringers are cleared out, all exploration will end. She intends to return her full attention to the mission that really matters: securing the Border crossings and the shared future of humans and elves.

This is a fairly typical "act one" soft ending for a video game plotline that will be picked up again later—I very much doubt that it was intended to be the final, decisive ending of the story of Blacksteel Sanctum. My bet would be that the eventual TDP: Xadia roadmap would have included additional story arcs for each region, with new bosses and some new missions, maybe another mission map... something like that. These would be either a new story, probably sharing some of the same characters, or a continuation of the first "resolved" story from that region. For example, I would expect the Far Reaches to have a second act not centered around the Natamus, since that plot was pretty well wrapped up (though it could be opened again), but possibly following up on Zeph's mysterious backstory and departure at the end of the first arc.

For the Border and Blacksteel Sanctum, an obvious hook for act two would be for the Sanctum's true secrets, their awakening set in motion by the Dawnbringers, to finally started crawling up to the surface. Because I don't think the Forgemaster's golem was there only to keep intruders out... there's something down there that she was also intended to keep in.

Shadow and Flame: The Sanctum's Fall

(Oh, did you somehow think you were getting out of this without a Khazad-dûm reference? You were wrong.)

So the Forgemaster golem confesses to Ravna that she and her smiths did "something unforgivable," spurred by their own arrogance in considering themselves all-powerful, and their continued hunger for more knowledge and power in spite of that. However, there have also already been hints of a dark secret to the Sanctum, probably related to its decline and/or fall.

One is made nice and obvious in the form of the Sins of the Sanctum item, presented as a book and providing a one-line excerpt:

"... its moral heart did die and rot, but oh! Its fire and flames did not..."

Another, a bit more subtle, is the region armor set shared by Soren and Viren, which offers three ominous lines:

Something echoes in the metal. Does it sing, or does it scream? What did they bury down there beneath the earth?

Finally, and most importantly, there's what I'm just going to refer to as the "dragon forge." At the end of a story-oriented mission to escort Ravna herself while she explores the Sanctum, she calls out the final room in a pretty suspicious way:

Ravna links the Sanctum's most prominent forge with dragons, while Sins of the Sanctum links dragons, or a dragon, with the Sanctum's fall. There's also the reference in her original summary of the Sanctum's legends that one possible reason for its disappearance is that it was "destroyed by jealous dragons."

The draconic theme isn't the forge's only unusual feature, either:

It's worth noting that she delivers the line about its size immediately after you've defeated a giant mission-boss golem, so she's familiar with just how big those golems get. Based on the size and power of that golem, she also comments that her ancestors "clearly wanted this particular forge protected." We're meant to understand that whatever was made in this giant, dragon-themed forge was somehow special, and likely tied to the Sanctum's most prominent works... including the one that led to its downfall.

This is the room in question, by the way, or close enough to it:

I'm not sure whether the stuff around the very perimeter is the same as in the game, but the dragon-themed forge itself and the floor pattern are accurate.

Ravna doesn't comment on the floor pattern, but I'm going to, because that center floor image is the main section of another mural that appears repeatedly throughout the Sanctum environment. It's on walls, banners, and floors, basically anywhere that a space needs to be filled. (The Forgemaster murals appear far more rarely, really only in specific areas.) With screenshots being both difficult to frame and not the best resolution, this non-game render is the clearest image of it:

It's easy to look at this and say "well, obviously that's the confrontation between Ziard and Sol Regem," except... it's not. Or if it is, it's not a depiction that makes any sense at all. Because look, if Sunfire elves know how to represent one thing in their decorative and architectural motifs... well, okay, back up for a second. If Sunfire elves know how to represent one thing, it's the sun. However, if they know how to represent two things, those are the sun and Sol Regem's horns. So unless everyone down in the Sanctum somehow forgot what Sol Regem looks like, that's not Sol Regem.

(There are actually no visual references to Sol Regem's horns in the entirety of Blacksteel Sanctum, aside from statues of juvenile dragons with only two horns in the same shape. Considering just how many there are in all other Sunfire architecture we've seen? That's weird. Like weird to the point that I wonder if it indicates some kind of schism between the Sanctum and Lux Aurea specifically about dragons.)

Additionally, the mural shows a massive, jagged hole in the dragon's chest, which is not something that happened to Sol Regem in the confrontation with Ziard. It's not 100% certain, but it seems to me that it makes more sense to interpret the central orb as being ripped from it, rather than being thrown at it. This is the imagery that is centrally and visibly featured in the dragon forge.

So we have 1) some terrible act by the Forgemaster, 2) the Sanctum's most prominent and unique forge being dragon-themed, 3) depictions of a dragon rent asunder, and 4) references to something buried in the depths, with fire and flame persisting beyond mortality.

Just to seal the deal, we also, if you do the kind of extensive ArtStation dive that I did, have this piece of concept art:

As Ravna says, the dragon forge goes "beyond armor and weapons for elves," and in this concept we have what appears to be pieces of armor for a dragon. Obviously it would be a pointless exercise to arm a dragon with forged weaponry, but could they have tried to armor one? What would be so unforgivable about dragon armor?

But wait, what did Ravna herself mistake for armor, when first entering the Sanctum? That's right.

They built a goddamn dragon golem.

Furthermore, as with the Forgemaster golem, they definitely put some piece of an actual, living dragon into it. Whether that was its heart, or its spirit, or something else, it was torn out and caged in metal. This could have been a malicious attempt by the Forgemaster and her smiths to enslave a dragon into their own control, or it could have been an altruistic attempt to save the life of one that had been torn apart by something else (dark mages?) by playing god. Either way, it seems that it went... quite badly. Badly enough that the Forgemaster not only had the Sanctum sealed and abandoned, but also put herself into a golem the same way, so she could stand as an eternal guard against her creation ever escaping or being freed.

Unfortunately, I would bet money that the dragon golem has already been awakened (probably by the magma crawlers). Remember the question of how the Dawnbringers knew about the golems? Well, as Saranar lies dying, the golems having proved to be uncontrollable and turned on her, she says this:

Someone a) knew about Blacksteel Sanctum, a place Ravna wasn't certain was even real, b) knew about the golems still remaining there, something Ravna had never so much as heard legends about, and c) promised the Dawnbringers power and victory, should they breach the Sanctum and take the golems for themselves. This could be the plot of an unusually well-informed external actor manipulating the local gang as cannon fodder to access some heavily-guarded secret, except they already ran that exact plot in the Far Reaches with Vant and Margot over the Natamus. I think it's more likely that the dragon golem has found a way of communicating with the outside world, and brought the Dawnbringers to the Sanctum knowing that they wouldn't stop digging for more power and weapons until they inevitably went too far and unearthed it. With the Forgemaster golem defeated, the last true line of defense for either direction—into the Sanctum or out of it—is now gone. Like I said, it's an excellent set-up for a second act.

I mean, as the Dragonbreath Embers item puts it:

Go on. Let them out. Surely nothing bad will happen.

So yeah! We'll also probably never find out if any of this is correct, since even if the game never re-launches or continues, anyone who could tell us anything is almost definitely legally prohibited from doing so... but we may have been robbed of an eventual epic boss battle with a golem dragon, among the countless other things that were in TDP: Xadia's future. THANKS, NETFLIX.

—

Speaking of people under NDA, here are the TDP: Xadia artists whose public portfolios were invaluable to researching and making this post:

Marvin Tischler

Alice Cho

Jacinta Vu

Guillaume T. Delbarre

Margaret Dost

Nelson Dou

Rebecca Blessing

Sara Lansdell

[psilliguykai]

WELCOME TO WILLIAM’S WANTON WEARY WILES!

An impulsive, apathetic man’s misanthropic jams. An eclectic collection of futile dissensions, a pretentious pile of literary bile filled with self destructive theatrics and rectifying tactics and any other slew of showy words.

Welcome.

(Info under the cut)

*queue WTTH instrumental*

Hello boys, girls, neithers, boths, and in-betweens and welcome to William’s Wanton Weary Wiles, a Will Wood/WWATTW x CCCC AU! Consider this a masterpost. Note that this AU is still very much in development, and this post will be updated as things change/get added :] Also. being totally up front. I’ve never made an AU or attempted a story this complex before, so please bare with me if things get confusing! Feedback is appreciated ^^

Warning! WWWW tackles sensitive topics, but nothing foreign to Will Wood or Chonny Jash’s music. Appropriate warnings will be put in the tags of each post, but overall CW/TW for: alcoholism/addiction, mental health issues, suicidal ideation, manipulation, and (moderate) violence.

The WWWW AU story is very similar to the original CCCC album, but with slightly different themes and tone. It still follows HMSW after Whole splits, creating Heart, Mind, and Soul. However, each character and their dynamics + certain plot points (e.g the Juno incident) are altered.

Asks about this AU are extremely welcome! Could be genuine questions, thoughts, serious, silly - anything (so long as it’s SFW!) is great and will help me with making this a Better and Actual Thing :3

In WWWW each member of HMSW represents and is based off of a WW(ATTW) album. Each character’s songs are from their respective albums, and the story will be told in the form of a written series of covers of songs by WW/WWATTW (plus some visual pieces :]). These will be posted individually and linked here as they get released.

3/31/25 EDIT: The information above is somewhat outdated! The idea of having to write 20+ song covers has been kind of killing my motivation for this project, so I've decided I will only be writing the covers I'm confident and interested in. However, the full tracklist with notes on what happens in each song will be posted soon[ish] and hyperlinked here when it's finished so you all still get the full storyline :]

While HMSW still exist with the same vague concepts and color themes, they do diverge a decent bit from the original CCCC album and I would not consider them to be representations of canon HMSW (or of any real people, including Whole /srs). Ref sheets have been posted and are linked in each character's name.

Important overall info: 

- HMS exists in a sort of parallel reality I’m calling Marybell (as a reference to Suburbia Overture as well as The Prescription). It’s a town within Will’s psyche that reflects his reality. It can change depending on his state of mind/current situation, and pretty much only exists to provide a physical space for HMS.

- Time loop!! Soul remembers every loop and knows the vague events that happen when Will is whole (though the memories are less clear than when he’s split). Heart and Mind don’t remember previous loops and aren’t really aware of anything when HMS is combined. Physical changes caused to any of HMS remain, even when the timeloop resets.

- LI does exist in WWWW! She’s about as significant as she is in CCCC and will probably get at least an intro, if not her own ref sheet at some point. I also have a sort of Darrell-equivelant which will probably get his own thing at some point as well.

Meet the cast: 

All characters have multiple names which can/will be used interchangeably. I’ve included the pronouns I think the characters would use, but you all are welcome to use whatever you’d like for any of them. Run free :3 here are the posts with the ref sheets for each of them - info on its own is below:

William

Jimmy/Laplace/Cotard

Whole:

- Whole/Will/William Racheal McSprout

- In Case I Make It

- He/him (GNC Cis Guy)

- 23-24 years old across the album

- Works at a small grocery/general tourist store

- Makes music as a side hobby. Not that successful lol. He makes decent stuff though - within the AU, the ICIMI covers featured would be considered his original music. 

- Spends his extra money on video games, alcohol, music equipment (sorta, though he mostly borrows shit and uses free programs), and serving cunt (fashion/makeup stuff)

- Not aware of HMS, though they’re aware of him. Mostly just feels a general sense of dissonance during splits, rather than Knowing the presence of these Multiple Actual Guys. Can’t interact with Marybell, same as HMS can’t (directly) interact with the “Real World”.

Soul:

- The Soul/Mr. Capgras/Cotard/Atlas

- He/it

- SELF-iSH

- Whole’s “self” - who he is at his core. His identity and personality at its most raw form. 

- He’s the most in-tune with Will’s actual state of being (health, emotions, etc.) and considers himself to somewhat be William, just separated and with pieces of himself missing. 

- Ultimate goal is to become a Happy Healthy and Alive Whole. Unlike in CCCC, the self-destruction is left more to H/M in this one .

- Knows he needs to get Heart and Mind to work together if he wants to keep William good and well, but he’s growing incredibly tired throughout the loops. He primarily experiences Will’s worst moments and rarely gets a break. Spends most of him life trying to get these. Fuckers. to get along and he’s so incredibly done with both of them. Growing distant, but ultimately does care about H/M on a personal level and really wishes they could all be happy together.

Mind:

- The Mind/Laplace/Al/Marsha/Apollo

- He/she

- The Normal Album

- Whole’s logic, as well as his self-control and calculated decision making. Doing his best to keep Will stable and often doing so to the point of burnout.

- Primarily tries to keep Heart in check, to the point of excessively trying to control it and Soul. Wants to keep Whole productive and functional by any means necessary. 

- At the end of the day, he does want Whole to live a happy life, but (despite keeping up a facade of superiority and strength) fears Heart’s impulsiveness/ erratic nature and feels the need to over-compensate in order to keep Will safe. 

Heart:

- The Heart/Jimmy/Vestal/Artemis

- He/it

- Everything Is a Lot

- Whole’s emotions, as well as his impulsiveness and indulgence. Sometimes joy-seeking, sometimes self-destructive. Often those two go hand in hand.

- Focused on breaking free from Mind’s controlling nature, trying to get her and Soul to “live a little”. Wants to allow Whole unbridled indulgence (in every whim and emotion, including negative) often to the point of self-destruction. 

- Ultimately knows he’s wrecking Will, but finds it’s the only way he knows to soothe his suffering. He knows Mind is right about them needing to get their shit together, but finds him difficult to work with and listen to when he’s so excessively overbearing. 

Tags:

Everything about this AU will be listed under the tags #wwww au and #william’s wanton weary wiles. 

Additional tags (color-coded according to character): #William Racheal McSprout, #Jimmy wwww, #Al wwww, and #Mr. Capgras wwww

[mochilatae]

A Matter Of Time (Namjoon x Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k (ish)

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, semi-public sex, night sex, flirting, kissing (tongue and other), making out, drinking, missionary sex, cumming on (you), orgasms (yours and his), dirty talk, oral sex (licking, sucking), intense sex, mouth fixation, finger sucking, fantasizing, semi/public nudity, spying/voyeurism (mild), thinking about Namjoon's big cock. Probably missed a few!

Genre: PWP, Strangers to lovers

AUs: Mildly CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: It's just a vacation at a beautiful resort. ..And it's just a matter of time until it becomes more.

Author’s Note: for @worldwideseal. Suffer well, dear sis. Purely for escape and sauce. Don't trouble yourself with the hows or gaps in this plot, just enjoy.

Thank you for reading, should you choose to. If you feel like letting me know what you liked with a comment, I'd love to hear. Reblogging is ALWAYS appreciated, but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

The travel agency had promised so many beautiful scenes. By far, this view outstripped them all. And this was not the result of losing track of time in tropical heat or some sun baked illusion. 

This was as real as it got: A man, paused at the bow of a decent sized yacht. 

The resort brochure had boats—all shapes and sizes. Certainly ones just like this, but being this close to one wasn’t on your itinerary. But snorkeling was, and you’d been doing fairly well at it. 

Right up until you’d come to the surface to snatch a quick breath and saw the form, standing at the boat front. You sunk lower into the water, until only your nose and eyes showed.

Even the wide lens of the snorkel goggles didn’t diminish this impressive silhouette. Especially not such narrow hips. Or the way his body just widened the higher your stare went. You’d never seen a shoulder span like this, or a neck so elegantly long and thick.

He wore a smile as he rolled it right, face upturned to the sun.

Whatever might be on his mind, the man wore no concern, letting the sun wash across his sparkling face. Head to toe, every inch of skin shimmered. 

You were certainly close enough to watch a few rivulets trickling down one side of his neck. And admire the way his hair was slicked along his scalp with almost artistic swirls. He ran fingers through a section, head rolling your way. 

You snorted. A few bubbles broke the surface in front of your face as you bobbed, legs slowly kicking independent of where your focus was: fully zeroing in on this stranger. He certainly looked content relaxing one hip into the bow rail. 

I KNEW I should have brought my camera. It was your best investment yet: a waterproof style that you’d saved a bit to purchase. Snorkeling had a purpose and you’d kicked yourself all morning after realizing the camera was sitting on the bed back at the hotel, unused.

Based on the man preening in silence, the camera’s full potential was going entirely to waste.

Wouldn’t have been a crime to sneak a snap or two of this hunk between shots of clownfish and stingrays. Or coral beds and seaweed. 

It got better when you actually noted he wasn’t wearing a stitch. It was all bare skin top to toes. He spent a long time in the sun like this because the only parts a shade lighter were the rounds of his ass. 

You had to give it to him, those were the best tan lines you’d EVER seen. Following the down slope of his abdomen, you caught the peek of familiar shape. Thick and bare. Your eyes popped as your gaze dragged to the other end of the boat, finding letters, painted immaculately in black with fleur-de-lis shapes accenting.

Fanta-sea 

That’s cute. You had a passing concept of boat names, knowing enough that they were usually clever, humorous, or even punny at times. This name suited the owner. As far as you were concerned, he met the definition of a fantasy.

Foremost yours but who even KNEW how many other women. There was no way on God’s green earth this man was here without company. And if he was? A resort this nice would soon fix that.

You took an unabashed eyeful of the man's ass when he turned away, readily deciding this was the choicest ass you’d ever seen. What you’d managed to see of his front was surpassed only with this angle. He was blessed with long legs and hamstrings defined by sections of tight muscle.

It was truly a delight for the eyes as he strolled towards the bridge, then ducked through an open door there. With him gone, your shoulders surfaced and tension ebbed away. That didn’t stop your lips trembling.

“Jesus..” 

Yes, you’d been floating out here for a while, finally accustomed to the temperature, but now a chill ran the length of your body. Skin prickled against the flow as you began a sluggish dog paddle, heading for the shore. 

Although you’d started further down from where the yacht floated, it was hard to believe you’d missed it this easily. Every stroke against the current, you tried not to look back. Tried not to think about how he looked. How long he might be staying and was it the same resort? 

For now, he seemed to be alone. There’d been no telling giggle, or signs of anyone else there to share the space and the view. No other body sprawled out on the deck, soaking up sunlight. That lack just added more questions to a rapidly growing list. 

First and most pressing of all: What is his name? 

The second followed just as doggedly, sinking claws into your brain: How could I even meet this guy?

----------------------------------------------

The ‘how’ came about all on its own, when you stood at the bar, watching the bartender pouring your drink. Until this moment, you’d been all too fixated on how close he could get to the top and not spill a single drop. 

Just beyond the bartender’s left side, you noticed the stare. It wasn’t that you’d gotten to really see the face clearly, but you didn’t need to. 

The shoulders were enough, even stressing the crisp white shirt of the form leaned against the bar, directly across the way. 

And your confusion dimmed the lazy jazz and island fused beats down to a thrum as his stare held. You found the barstool suddenly so preciously high with both feet swinging inches off the floor. 

Your fingers gripped the bar edge as you watched the man stand and make his way around. When he did, you knew that body, even a layer of clothing on.

With a warm evening breeze playing through your hair, your eyes followed the white, linen shirt approaching. It fluttered around the man’s chest as he braced an elbow into the counter next to your left side. 

His smile had one dimple and the very subtle shadow of a second on the other cheek. The neon signs above the bar reflected in his curious stare. Both dark brows twitched up.

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” At least you managed to speak up. Although the resort bar wasn’t packed at this hour, it was easy to hear your racing heart. The pace was much more than when you’d been kicking through the waves to chase exotic fish or explore coral reefs. And the view, even better.

A glass slid nearer. The man glanced there, then came back to your face. “Yours?” 

As you lifted the glass the contents shivered briefly. Your lips met the rim with a responsive “Mmhmm.”

“Are you here alone?” He was moving along, another temperate breeze washing around you both. He wasn’t afraid to ask what you’d wondered earlier. You were beyond certain that this WAS that same man.

Your skin felt alive. It wasn’t just tropical heat, and it would soon be moving to other places. Several, ready to respond as intended around a good looking man like this. 

You gulped down a mouthful of fruity coolness, hoping a little liquid courage would go a long way. Especially with your mind full of nothing but the recall of this man’s bare ass and smiling face, soaking up the sun hours ago. 

But do you admit that? How could someone even approach that kind of thing? You couldn’t very well say ‘Yes I saw you naked, on a boat. No big deal..’ It wasn’t exactly a nudist resort here and he probably didn’t even think anyone would see as far down the beach as you’d gone. 

It must have been written all over your face, because the man’s head inclined as his expression devolved into a cheeky grin. “What is it?” 

“I’m alone.” You replied. His stare intensified, his upper body inching closer,closing off space for the breeze roiling its way down the bar, heading at you both again. Your skin was starting to get clammy. 

“Is there something else?” 

“..No.” Your eyes moved to the glass, sweating on the counter nearby and your nails drumming the wooden bartop. Out of beat and tapping the nail points in a nervous staccato. 

He didn’t break eye contact. “I’m here alone too. How rare do you think that is?” 

“Not that rare.” You ventured. 

There was no way to really know, but you hadn’t missed the pairs and groups of people wandering around in the previous days. The beach was riddled with goers, all laughing and communing around you and your lone towel, umbrella pitched at an angle as you squinted into a book and sucked down a mimosa for a few hours. 

It wasn’t a bad thing, but it wasn’t like you’d been able to say you were having the MOST fun you could have. You had plenty of things to do and a partner or friends would just drag your schedule down. 

“I think it’s interesting, anyway.” 

While he was facing the bar and ordering a drink, you studied his face. The man’s skin had become dewy. The sheen went all the way down into the space at the top of his shirt. This wasn’t like ocean water evaporating in the midday sun rays.

This was a muggy summer sweat, which ALSO suited him well. It was getting hard to ignore the darker spots starting to appear where the sweat concentrated most, at the center of his broad chest.  

He turned back with a glass in hand, raised it, then sipped, you spoke up with fingers circling your own glass. You didn’t sip. The glass never even left the bar. 

“You’re here on that tour package–Island Escape?” It didn’t hurt to ask. “...I am. It was a great deal. Once in a lifetime thing, you know?” You added. Now felt like the right time to lay out your purpose for setting foot on these beautiful grounds, and it'd save him the trouble of asking.

He smiled again. “I’m more the self guided tour type.” 

“You travel a lot?” Alone, hopefully.

The man nodded. You smoothed hair from your neck, winding the sweat dampened strand around one finger. 

“Is it for work or…” Your voice trailed off. Bare toes curling, you came off the bar seat and went to the balls of both feet. You shouldn’t yield to the pressure pushing up from inside your hips, but there was every incentive NOT to ignore it. 

“..Or something.” The man’s lids lowered perceptibly, watching you over the glass as he took another long sip, then set it down, entirely facing you.

Something about that was so satisfying, despite being overwhelmed. KNOWING he was looking at you, versus you looking at him–with him unaware–was an entirely different ball game. 

“How often do you take these trips?” The man asked. 

“Let’s start with the important question.” You retorted, a smile breaking out. He mirrored it, showing just how perfect his teeth were too. 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s your name?”

His head dropped with a chuckle, making both shoulders dance and drooping the shirt front lower. Giving a clear-as-day view of the tight valley between his pecs. And hints of muscle there, judging by the shadows playing. Your throat clenched.  

“Yes, we SHOULD get that out of the way. A nagging detail, but probably important. I’m Namjoon.” 

After he said his name, he held out a hand. You found his grip warm and measured as he pumped your hand but didn’t let go first. You wanted to hold it all night, but reluctantly pulled your hand back and rested it palm down on your thigh, feeling the heat through your gauzy skirt.

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon’s head bowed deeper this time, then he looked towards the resort, watching people further away. There were more couples. Somehow the attendance doubled between when you’d gotten here and when he’d come over. It wasn’t like anyone here knew you’d stumbled upon this man hours ago, when you’d seen him in a most intimate way–birthday suited and sun drenched.

For all you knew, this resort had a nudist beach portion. There was plenty to discover and you only had a handful of days. You’d only begun to check off a full list of activities, none of which stimulated below the belt. 

Until tonight. 

“You’ve been here a little while?” Namjoon asked, stepping closer. Standing that much closer. Within reach, more so than he’d been before. Unspoken respect, but that didn’t mean you weren’t more tempted to reach out and touch. 

Underneath your skirt, the heat was becoming too much. So was the ache that was gnawing through you.

“A couple days.” You agreed. 

“Me too. It’s nice this time of year.” 

“Is that your..boat?” 

Namjoon’s brows shot up again, then pinched briefly. “My boat?” He looked good, even feigning confusion, eyes shining playfully. 

“Yes.” You puffed a little. “Out there in the water–I saw it earlier.” 

“When?” He asked. 

“Today. I was snorkeling and I saw it….saw you.” Fire clawed up your neck. Namjoon caught the flutter in your lids and lowered his own more. He took a brief bite of his lower lip, then scoffed.  

“Did you? What was the name on the boat?” 

“Fanta-sea, I think.” Don’t think. I KNOW. And Namjoon KNEW that you knew. His face came a little closer.

“Yeah. That’s my yacht. Didn’t think anyone would be on the section of beach, down that far. Usually it’s empty.” 

Usually? You swallowed hard. “You’ve been there before?” Surely he meant the day before, or earlier than that. 

“This time of year, yes. Other times it’s pretty packed. I try to avoid it in the dead of the season.” 

“Season.” You echoed. Clarity was coming, rapidly. He wasn’t talking about it as a season vacation package-goer. This was so much more. 

“Mmhm. Travel season. When vacationers overrun this resort. It’s not too bad right now. But there are times..” He didn’t finish, chuckling. When he grew quiet you stared into his eyes. And he looked deeper into yours, stirring something that had your walls twitching. 

“Sounds rough..” You managed.

You wanted to finish the rest of your drink but you were certain the glass would smash to the ground if you tried to pick it up right now. Instead, Namjoon pushed the glass further out of reach, following the bar top towards your hand. His fingers lightly rode the knuckles on the back of that hand. 

“Y/n..” He was solemn as another breeze wrestled the shirt around his body. Your thinned lips refused to release any kind of affirmative sound—not that he needed it to continue. “..Have you ever been on a yacht?”

Your head shook. 

“I want you to see mine. Come with me?” 

You wanted more than that. You wanted Namjoon, just as you’d seen him earlier, except bathed in moonlight, naked under your gaze. If you could be guaranteed a chance at that…. 

Once again, he must have read the desire telegraphing in microexpressions across your face when he took your hand, fingers laced easily through. He tugged you closer, staring down his nose. 

“Know you didn’t come here to see a boat, but trust me. It’ll be worth it.” 

----------------------------------------------

You’d managed a few indulgences in your time on this planet–the occasional spa day with your closest friend. A nice dinner with your parents. A birthday shopping spree at the best stores on the rich end of town. 

Stepping foot on a yacht wasn’t quite on your list, but not for the reason you’d assumed. Where you lived wasn’t close enough to a beach or convenient to fly to without sinking a whole day in and out of airports and planes. 

But this trip came with bonuses that checked the lux yacht experience off your list after inking it right at the top.

Stepping onto Namjoon’s yacht proved it was even BETTER from on board than it had appeared floating in the ocean and stone’s throw away. Even with just the moonlight painting the finely finished wood deck. 

The surface was cool under your feet as you paused away from the ladder and slipped off your flats. You laid them next to Namjoon’s shoes, arranged neatly side by side, then followed him as he moved towards the beam, where the yacht seemed to be widest. You could spin around, arms wide and never hope to hit a single thing–in fact ALL of your closest friends could do that very same thing with that guarantee. 

Namjoon had turned, watching your big eyes roaming with a measured smirk. Slowly his arms crossed at his chest. 

“View better from up here, hmm?” The wind was stronger here, and a bit cooler, coming off the water and the rocking of the yacht wasn’t noticeable as you’d expected. It was more an imperceptible sway. 

“It’s beautiful.” You marveled. 

Eventually your attention found its way to Namjoon, the darkness around consuming the taller portions of the ship, disappearing into the shadows if you squinted up or in any direction too far. 

Not that it mattered. 

This man standing just in sight, chest expanded, and the wind teasing his shape through whipping fabric was the best, most breathtaking view of them all. You weren’t even sure you’d noticed any stars in the sky as you gazed at Namjoon’s beaming smile. 

“When you saw me today….What was I doing?” A step brought Namjoon close again and you braced, leaning into the soft tilt you could feel in your senses as a wave rolled the giant yacht body a little. 

“Just…standing here.” You replied, skimming back more hair as it spilled forward over your shoulder, dragged by the wind. You knew he was watching that action, his eyes roving in matching directions. 

“Standing here?” He glanced down. “I don’t think it was here.” 

You held back a giggle.

“Obviously not there.” You looked around, nodding towards the bow of the boat. “There… I think. It was hard to tell from down in the water but…I saw enough.” 

“Did you?” He moved by you, but had your hand as he did, pulling you closer to the railing. You didn’t end up there, but you could see down into the water from the nose of the boat well enough. You had a sense of somewhere, in that dark ocean below, that he’d be lying to say he hadn’t seen you floating there–even as vast as the ocean was. 

The water was too clear and calm earlier. And your bright pink snorkel set stuck out like a sore thumb, but you said nothing, combing back more hair on the other side, tucking it behind that ear. 

Namjoon released your hand. His feather lite touch grazed your chin.

“I was standing near here.. Hmm?” You nodded, watching him do the same a little, fingers circling your chin. Pressure came as he squeezed softly, pulling the rounded shape up faintly. “..Just doing nothing?” 

You managed another nod, grateful he didn’t let go. 

“...What else did you see?” 

“What do you mean?” You breathed. That building feeling that had nestled and filled up your pelvis became a massive, pulsing ache. There wasn’t a single, undisturbed nerve there. 

“I think you can tell me.” 

Whatever had compelled you to keep staring like earlier today, treading water, or across the bar during Namjoon’s approach, it was bigger than everything right now.

It kept you from breaking eye contact and prevented any lie from growing roots. 

“..Nothing.” Your tongue swept your lips and the wind sucked the moisture away in a blink.

“..You weren’t wearing anything.”

Namjoon’s face relaxed as his brows shifted as he nibbled his lip longer this time. “And what did you think of that?” 

It wasn’t like you’d never seen a man naked. In your life you’d seen PLENTY of them. All shapes and sizes, but none like Namjoon. None had hit you so directly in the center of your need. 

“I liked it.” 

“I liked being naked. It’s freeing.” 

You squeaked. It meant something, but you didn’t have time to figure out what. Namjoon’s thumb pried your lower lip down as he leaned towards you. His lips opened just a little. Dizziness rushed to your head as you swooned towards his approach. 

At the last minute he stopped, the touch of his lips a silky heat as he spoke into your parted lips. 

“Did you like what you saw?” 

“Yes.” You whined. “Your body is—” 

“Mmnnn..” He dragged his lips across yours for a peck and pulled back just so, again. “Be naked with me? I think you’ll find it’s liberating here.” 

“Here?” You blinked, feeling your lips sinking around his thumb as he fed the tip past your lips. 

“Yes. Out here. On my yacht. On the deck. Under the stars. Are you here to enjoy yourself and do what you want? I am.” 

You didn’t answer, lips still tight around his finger, until it popped free from your latch. You chased it a little until Namjoon seized your chin again and leveled his stare on you, nose to nose. 

“Y/n..” His tone dropped a level, dragged across gravel. Serious, to match his unflinching gaze. “What did you want when you saw me naked?” 

Where could you even start? You went with the first thing your brain and loins demanded in unison. 

“I wanted to feel you.” Confession felt so good, the heat spilling up out of your mouth as you spoke. Namjoon leaned his front into you, letting you get a good sense of his body. And it was exactly as firm and muscled as it looked from that big, deep blue world below. 

You went about as wet too, right at your seal. Your nipples perked and you moaned when his chest dragged your top across the newly woken points. 

Namjoon cradled one hip, then gathered the hem of your shirt, guiding it up your side. The other hand did the same, bringing your top to your breasts, peeling it away. Along with the bra underneath, he dropped both to the deck.

Smiling, Namjoon pulled your hands to his hips and nodded. “Go ahead. Help me out?”

This was really happening.

All the questions and pondering that had been building all day long and simmering all night were now about to find a happy realization. Fruition, in the form of your fingers, under Namjoon’s shirt, pushing rough and fast. He did the rest at his shoulders, hauling the garment off. It went right to the ground, atop yours. 

Without speaking, your fingers walked the waist of his bottoms, finding them just like his shirt: a lighter material and quickly off his body. He kicked them clear after you stood up. Without waiting, his hands guided your skirt down. 

As the stretching waistband widened and rolled down your hips, Namjoon mouthed over your bare belly. You moaned, listening to the sound carried away by the salty breeze. It didn’t matter–what mattered was how good this felt. 

The water lapped the hull as Namjoon’s lips pressed into your skin. He tugged a bit of skin below your navel, shuffling your panties down last. When his open mouth found your pussy, your thighs shook and you melted down against his face. 

Namjoon was ready, jaw flexing as his hands caught your hips, lifting you enough. His tongue dove against your folds, spreading you with a few long, firm licks. From the way his moan rattled your mound, he was more than pleased with the taste. 

The stars you barely made out winking in the sky overhead, faded again as your eyes rolled shut when Namjoon pulled your clit tight between his lips. And sucked, deep. Hard. Pulsing his lips with a suction that didn’t falter. 

It went on for some time until you felt like everything was flowing down, out of you. Your senses finally came back enough to groan his name as fingers scraped his scalp. Twisted hair through your fingers, tugging him closer, then trying to pull him away. 

Namjoon wrestled himself free with a dulcet sigh. “You taste…so good…” He swabbed your slick from his lips in a lick, then palmed your ass. “...Lay down for me, baby..” 

The deck was exactly as smooth as it'd been under your soles, when back and ass met it. No sooner and Namjoon went to hands and knees, then stroked both palms down the insides of your thighs to guide them apart and settled between. One leg he draped along the inside of an arm, the other he pushed up and out, angling the knee to widen you. 

Opening you at the very center, wind spilling over slick coated skin. It felt good, but that didn’t last long. The gnawing emptiness was back and your hips twisted as you whimpered. The very last thing on your mind was the devilish details. 

Small things, like what Namjoon said next. 

“Y/n…You okay with raw?”

I shouldn't. So why do I WANT to? Vacations were about being care free, but this was about as far from sensible as you'd ever been. ...And every fiber said you WANTED it. Right-wrong-whatever, let it sweep you up.

Your palm struck wood, then dragged with a squeal of damp skin and sting of friction. Breasts jerked and rose higher as you arched. Impatience went right down to the center of your soul.  

“Yes..” You gasped. “..Just want you.. Please… fill me up.” 

Namjoon’s gripped cock drew close and he swept the head right up your center, coating the blunt end. You wanted to wither at the way he moaned in surprise. It wasn’t long before he guided his tip right against your opening. 

A palm thumped against the deck, bracing right next to your hitched knee. The other arm bent, keeping your other draped leg angled shamelessly high. Then Namjoon slid inside. It was relief at first, as you stretched around his shaft. Then it was sweet pain as he sank deeper, stretching you more. 

Your ass wiggled when Namjoon pulled back. Pushed in, with a single, firm body roll. He slid back out, then plunged again, this time falling immediately into a steady pump. He had a stroke that said he knew what to do with himself. 

And how to take care of the perky tightness that was developing the more he thrust. Your fingers started at his forearms, circling there, then nails touched skin, sinking in, then dragging higher with a low moan. Your body shook with the impact, then gyrated counter to Namjoon’s marching pace. 

“You feel so…tight. God..” He snarled, snapping hips harder. Less gentle, his head went back. The stars were back, under your lids, and when they opened, the shining started on Namjoon's skin.

Underneath your bare ass and back, the deck was alive with sound–you shifting up inch by inch with the power packed into each forward driving motion. Namjoon was heading quickly towards pounding and it was opening a pit of pleasure under your belly. Your walls gave a massive clench and chills washed over you.

An orgasm was right there, about to hit you hard. Your cocked knee recoiled more, snapping in place over Namjoon’s hip. The other heel sank into his back. Both climbed higher as he grunted. Added force. Barreled into you–through you. Waves of pleasure built on top of each other inside you.

Another dizzying rush and you barely gasped out  “That’s it…Namjoon—” before it all hit you at once. Struck you dumb in a full body convulsion. His instroke faltered as you seized around him, clinging so hard onto his biceps that he shuddered. It must have hurt, but you couldn’t be bothered to notice.

You couldn’t help anything you did,except let out a high pitched shriek of relief. However far that carried, it wouldn’t be a surprise if it reached the shore. You’d taken more than enough time at 7 knots, getting further and further offshore, rising and boring through inky waters, deep into the approaching night. 

And it led to this: you, under Namjoon, his cock stabbing relentlessly into you as he went on after a short reprieve. Enough that he could pummel you again, taking his own turn. Your nails slid through moisture again. 

Had to be more sweat developing faster than the wind could wick away, but that was fine. Your pussy was ultra wet, just tight enough he could get away with more force. More depth. And it sounded so good. You were helpless to do much but lay here. Taking it with eyes bleary and fixed on a far away point of light. A single, white point blinking in the distant horizon. 

And you, rocking against the final thrusts. Rocking like the waves against the ship’s hull, giving away as it was meant to: You, wet and pliant, melting around Namjoon with his last plunge in, before he pulled out and brought himself upright, head thrown back. His shaft speared once more through five tightly circled fingers, then the spurt of cum splashed onto your belly.

Hitting higher, shot by shot until he created a decent, milky pool between your shivering breasts. 

It was just like that moment you’d seen him on the bow–under the golden sun. A mirrored moment, but bathed in white of the moon’s delicate aura now. Head craned, lines in his neck strong, taut skin aglimmer again. And like earlier, it pulled you in entirely. You couldn’t look away, eyes barely open, adrift in the afterglow. 

Namjoon had to be proud of the sight: sweat and his load, mixed on your chest and torso. He openly admired, then his shoulders dropped. Eventually he leaned over you. In spite of however much effort he’d just put out, Namjoon was still just as careful laying against you with his full body weight.

His weary smile wasn’t lacking any satisfaction. A dreaminess painted his moon washed features. You found it easy to get lost, admiring in silence as he gathered thoughts then spoke.

“...God.. you’re…” That was YOU, robbing an obviously well spoken man of the coherency he was accustomed to. Probably even KNOWN for in his daily and professional life. I did that. And fuck does it feel AMAZING. If the girls back home only knew… 

Not that you’d ever tell.

“Mmmm..You…didn’t want to finish inside me?” Was that really pouting in your tone? Were you really too fucked out to question yourself or hide it? 

Namjoon chuckled, looking down at your breasts, and further, getting a much closer look at the chaos he’d left behind. The verdict was in–he was quite impressed at the handiwork.

“You didn’t ask.” When he dragged fingertips through his fluids on your belly, then headed for your mound, your hips lifted. His hand pulled back just before he reached what you were offering all over again. “..Mnnnngg…Good aim and distance.” 

“You’d cum inside me if I wanted?” 

Namjoon looked at you again,from under lowered brows, wearing a questionable smirk. “I’d consider it. Not the brightest move if we’re strangers.”

“Neither is condomless sex. Or sex on a boat, in the open ocean air.” 

“Sex on the beach is an option too, Y/n. The night is still young and I know a stretch of beach that’s empty for SURE this time.” 

“God..” You began. Delight tightened everything inside. Although you’d just cum, the body was quickly recovering and the mind was more than willing to meet this man’s unflagging energy. “..Namjoon..” you gasped, turning your face when shyness caught up for a moment.  

He wasn’t letting that feeling gain any traction,bringing his face close, angling for a kiss. Ultimately soft, exploring your mouth lightly with his tongue. When yours flirted past his lips, he sucked the tip and you squeezed around nothing, drowning in a moment of pure desire. The kiss was over all too soon, and Namjoon was sitting up onto his knees.

“Let’s go below deck. Clean up and change.” He’d already begun indiscriminately collecting clothing, pausing to dab away the more plentiful globs he’d left behind on your chest and belly. 

“Does that mean we’re heading back to shore?” 

Namjoon sighed. “..Eventually, we have to.”

He WAS right, but you didn’t want to just yet. Not tonight and maybe not until tomorrow afternoon. It was much different enjoying the ocean being out on, rather than splashing hundreds of feet offshore or laying out on a towel in the sand. 

Namjoon detected the concern in a pinch between your brows. “What’s wrong?” 

“Does ‘eventually’ mean…now?” 

“Not if you don’t want it to. I don’t…Is that okay?” 

Relief felt as cool as the night air racing across your thighs and breasts. The puddled fluid on your skin was rapidly becoming distracting for different reasons: a persistent reminder of the temperature falling around you as the night wore on. 

“Yes.” You smiled as he took your hand and brought you to your feet. Even entirely naked, you suddenly didn’t care much. It was a nice surprise. In the past, nudity hadn’t been the easiest for you. A vacation from that hang up was a bonus. 

Standing face to face, Namjoon watched you for a moment. And you gazed up, remembering the moment you saw his eyes, around the bartender. You hadn’t done much and it hadn’t been long, but you felt different enough to ensure you’d come back from this trip a changed person. 

“Let’s get settled. Sleeping on a yacht in the ocean…It’s like a waterbed. Best sleep of your life..” There was no need to promise. Namjoon had already guaranteed it. From the pleasant and relaxing heaviness seeping through every limb, this would be the most refreshing night of sleep you’d had in a long time. 

And when it came to vacations and resorts, this would lead the pack for a long time too.

----------------------------------------------

You buckled the lap belt long before the flight leveled out and reclined back into your seat. It was routine. Everything, going off without a hitch. At the airport reasonably early. Breezing through security. And now, perfectly situated–magazine on your lap. Earplugs prepped for insertion. Carry on tucked under your seat. Your final step in the ‘routine’ was a look out the window. 

Cruising altitude was a few minutes away, but peeking out the small window to your left, you could see it all easily enough. 

The island. Large, pale squares of the resort’s most prominent buildings. Even the darker red clay tiles of the resort bar. Where your best night had begun. Better than the hikes. Better than the tours of the ancient landmarks. 

And out there, at the shoreline, the thin white trail of the waves rushing at the shore line, then ebbing away as they slid back to where they’d come: the vast and endless ocean. You couldn’t  make out figures on the beach anymore, from this high up. 

And because of that, you knew looking for Namjoon was fruitless, until the moment you saw it: his ship there, anchored further down the shore, opposite from where you’d found him. A single, elongated white shape, alone on the blue. 

For a moment a pang of sadness filled you dangerously to the top, bringing a brief heat to your eyes, but you blinked it away, smiling against the thick plastic of the window. You focused on his boat for a bit longer, then shut the window shade. 

It was how you needed to leave things: the last sight should be what had made the most impact in your memory: Namjoon and his smile as he let your hand go first this morning. Early–just before the sun was fully out, sweatshirt shapeless on your form, eyes puffy from sleep but still struggling to drink him in so close. 

And what he’d said–that he’d see you again... How did you know?

Show and prove came in the form of a text with a link. When you clicked it brought up a calendar with Namjoon’s name. There wasn't much detail beyond dates and locations--blocks of color hashing out days at a time. 

Whoever Namjoon was here at the resort, beyond the boundaries and back in daily life, he was regimented. Private. Very secure. Protective of his time and much, much more.

Those walls were high but for a few hours he'd given you a peek over. This text brought them down again--something you had a feeling did not come easy or often.

He meant what he said. 'I'll see you again.'

Scrolling forward through his calendar, for a few months from now, you knew exactly when. Your mind was already doing the math farther ahead. Finding that perfect alignment. 

All you had to do was pick a date and fly there. From here,and no matter how far apart you were, it was just a matter of time. 

[cq-studios]

Might be going insane or might be cooking. I don't know but I need to throw my Missing Link speculation into the void.

Also special thanks to @starlightwayfinder for pointing out the things that had me putting these pieces together in the first place. This is really just me building (a lot) on their initial idea lol

(Spoilers the ML Beta Test and the January ML Leak)

The leak in question.

(It's only kind of relevant but I figured I'd include it anyways.)

This leak reveals that it is possible, hell, even likely, that Destiny Islands will be in ML. Of course, this idea was already floating around with the whole nameless tropical-ish island in the beta tests, but this adds a whole other layer of proof for its inclusion.

With that note made, I'd like to point out some interesting things about Destiny Islands.

Destiny Islands seems to have a connection to the Realm of Darkness.

This is shown when Kairi's letter shows up on the Dark Margin (But hey... isn't it interesting that the Dark Margin looks the way it does in the first place? Not hard evidence by any means but definitely something to keep in mind).

2. The door in the Secret Place.

This is something that is specifically shown in the ML trailer even.

Everything is Connected.

3. It has knowledge of the outside worlds

This is because of Xehanort, of course, but keep it in mind. It'll be relevant later.

While I was talking to Starlight about the leak, she took a sidebar to talk about how excited she is to learn more about the Child of Destiny and the situation surrounding the prophecy.

I mentioned the fact that Destiny Islands was one of the worlds on the list, then they brought up this exchange from DR.

(insert screenshot here)

The rules can be changed.

What an interesting thing to bring up and never mention again, huh? And Vor's "But why would anyone do that?" is so leading, you know? It really makes me wonder what might've been cut out of the game. Or... well... maybe this isn't just set up for Dark Road... maybe it's set up for something else.

Something in Missing Link.

We don't know whether or not the Child of Destiny prophecy is real. Or, let me rephrase that, we don't know if it was really written in the Book of Prophecies.

I would like to claim that it isn't, and my evidence for that is hidden in plain sight.

Sora is not seen in any of the worlds in KHUX.

Just to be thorough, the Disney worlds in UX (other than Wreak it Ralph) are future projections (according to the Book of Prophecies) of the worlds you are going to. Other than Olympus, they follow the plots of the movie decently loyally with some extra side quests thrown in.

And I understand that's like, "yeah, no kidding. They just didn't want to put him there because something something Player fills in his spot or they just wanted to follow the plot of the movies because it's easier or whatever", but a) this really would not be the first time (or the last time) Nomura would use the 'it's just a video game thing, its not that deep' to hide something in plain sight (Riku fusing with the dream eaters anybody?) and b) Cloud is there.

If they were just following the movies, why would Cloud be there? If Cloud is there in the future, then why isn't Sora? Or the Wayfinders for that matter?

The future written in the Book of Prophecies (at least at that point) does not include them and the Disney worlds different because of it.

(To address the rules of time travel, which kinda contradict the idea of being able to change the future, this isn't time travel. That is to say, the rules could be different. We don't know. Nomura hasn't told us.)

"Now that's cool and all, but how does that tie in to ML, and the Child of Destiny, and all that other stuff you were talking about earlier?"

Well, why does Sora leave the islands? Because of Riku. Why does Riku want to leave the islands? Because he wants to explore the outside worlds. Why does Riku know about the outside worlds? Because of, not only Terra, but Xehanort.

Why was Xehanort taken Destiny Islands in the first place?

If there was no Child of Destiny prophecy, Xehanort would never have left the islands because he wouldn't have even been there, and there would have been no light for Terra to follow to Destiny Islands to show Riku other worlds were real or give him a Keyblade.

And even if the world had fallen to darkness anyways, without a Keyblade, neither Sora nor Riku would've been able to travel between worlds.

But, obviously, that isn't how the games went. There is a Child of Destiny prophecy. So, if it didn't come from the Book of Prophecies then where did it come from?

Brain (and/or Player) could've made the Child of Destiny up as a ploy to try and change fate.

This may seem like it comes out of nowhere, but whether or not you can change the future that is written is something that Ava and Brain even talk about in KHUX.

Brain spends all of UX trying to change the future by not reading the Book of Prophecies. After that failed so spectacularly, who's to say he wouldn't try and take a more proactive approach this time.

So, remember all the way back, close to the beginning of the post when Starlight had brought up that scene from DR?

I think avoiding darkness prevailing and the light expiring might be a good reason.

We did it, we made it past all that build up and to the actual speculation/theory.

Brain (and/or Player) made up the Child of Destiny prophecy and, because the world was still reforming at the time, was able to will it into existence on Destiny Islands.

They tried to make it Xehanort (avoiding his fate as the prophesied Dark Seeker) by moving him there, but that didn't work. Despite everything, the real Child of Destiny (either Sora or Riku depending on your opinions) was born years later. Making the prophecy real, but not in a time Brain or Player would live to see.

There are probably loose threads in here so feel free to pick at them or add stuff to this or what have you. Might come back and add more later but I'm too tired to keep writing. What I put down was the gist.

Hope y'all enjoyed my insane rambling. I feel like I'm loosing my mind lol

[enkas-illusion]

Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Reiner x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Friends to lovers; non-titan au

Content warning: fluff, teasing, language, size kink!!!, smut, piv sex, protected sex, oral (f & m), various positions, overstimulation, kinda dom!Reiner, sub!reader, porn with some plot.

Summary: Helping college friend Reiner, who’s cleaning his room, but it turns into a friends to lovers type beat.

Author's Note: Hello, this is how I picture a millennial Reiner if he wasn't depressed as fuck so sorry if his personality doesn't match. Hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading <3

~ Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: From The Start by Laufey / Rodeo (feat. Flo Milli) by Lah Pat

“How do I look?” You turn your back to the mirror, eyes searching your friend's face for an affirmative reaction.

“Thought you were here to help me,” he mumbles, merely glancing at you for a second before getting back to folding and sorting the pile of clothes on the bed.

“I ammm,” you whine as you take off the star-shaped funky glasses, swinging it in your hand as you make your way to where three boxes are placed on the study table next to the bed, “Which pile?” 

He doesn't hear you, attention focused on the t-shirts he's sorting on the bed.

“Reiner?” 

“Oh yeah sorry… I was certain I'd lost this,” he holds his football jersey up for you to see before looking at the glasses in your hands.

“Those are Jean's,” he answers as he points to the right box. You let out an involuntary chuckle.

“What?” Reiner asks as he holds a different t-shirt up, examining it before tossing it into the box on the left.

“Nothing… weirdly enough, it seems very Jean-like to own these,” you explain.

“Didn’t know you talked to him enough to assess his personality,” you hear him mumble, still faced away from you, folding his clothes.

“Well, in 3 years of college, it's not unusual to have a few conversations with friends, is it?” You move next to him, picking up the jersey he'd placed to the side.

“He's advanced to ‘friend’ now, has he?” He teases, finally looking at you as you hold it up to your shoulders.

“Aren’t they changing the jersey next term?” You question, ignoring his comment.

He nods and you smile at him slyly, “So, can I keep this?” He rolls his eyes at you in an exaggerated manner and you take it as a yes.

You walk to the mirror, putting on the jersey over your tank top. As expected, size ‘Reiner’ is too large for you and the jersey ends just a little shy of the length of your shorts.

“Umm, this actually looks quite decent,” you speak more to yourself.

“Okay, Adam Sandler.”

You simply let out a dry ‘ha ha’ at his joke before fiddling with the hem to make the fabric drape a bit more elegantly. You look up to catch Reiner in the reflection eyeing you, only for him to look away awkwardly.

“You know he has a crush on you, right?” He speaks after the moment passes.

“Jean? Oh my! I had no idea,” your sarcastic tone manages to break out a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you once again.

“It's kinda easy to tell! I can’t pinpoint it, but when guys like you, they act a bit odd… it's just the vibes,” you explain.

“Hmm,” he contemplates as he clears the remaining clutter from the bed, placing it all in the ‘Jean’ box.

You move to him, peeping over his arm, “All of this is Jean's stuff?” 

“Yeah… kinda glad I'm getting a separate room. I may tolerate him as a friend, but I just don't want a roommate for final year,” he chuckles awkwardly, packing his boxes and shoving the rest of his stuff in his suitcase.

“So, when do you leave for the vacations?” You ask as you rummage through the Jean box.

“Flight’s tomorrow afternoon but I'll still have to leave for the airport by… 11-ish, I guess?”

“So you'll move your stuff to the new room after you return from home?”

“Hmm, the guy living there hasn't cleared his shit out yet.”

You fiddle with the cowboy hat you find in the box. Another moment of awkward silence. 

“Do you find him attractive too?” He asks hesitantly.

“Jean? Yeah, I've got eyes, you know; he's fucking hot obviously,” you're the only one to laugh at your joke, “...but I doubt he's my type.”

“Hmm,” he's lost in thought so you just stand there awkwardly, trying to find more interesting things in the box. Something about Reiner feels different today but you haven't been able to figure it out yet.

“If you can really tell on a hunch… is there anyone else who you think might have a crush on you?” He breaks the silence again.

“Other than you?” You tease and he laughs awkwardly, cheeks turning red.

“Stop toying with that… you came here to help me but you're doing the opposite,” he mumbles, changing the subject and taking the hat from your hands to put it back in the box.

You giggle, knowing you've successfully made him awkward. 

“Only here for moral support,” you take the hat once again, reaching your hand up to place it on his head. You bite the inside of your cheek but decide to speak anyway, “hmm… I get the appeal, you look kinda handsome.”

He gives you a crooked smile as he tips the corner of the hat down, “Do I, now?”

“You’re so used to everyone complimenting you by now… regardless, don't get all cocky about it!” you point your index finger to his chest, pushing him away playfully.

“Me? Cocky? I'm just a humble guy… What compliments? I’m completely bitchless,” he sighs.

Your fake accusatory tone turns into an almost serious one as you call his bullshit, “You got at least half the campus flirting with you, the only reason they give up is cause you don't bother pursuing them after the first date. If anything, you are far from bitchless!”

“Not half the campus…” he rolls his eyes, “...it's a lot more than that.”

You chuckle at this, “oh, so you’re aware?”

“I think if someone approaches you to sleep with them, believe it or not, they might like you,” he teases as he watches you go through the items in the box.

“Oh, so you just fuck them and leave them hanging on purpose?” you fake gasp and he moves towards you. 

“Hmm… what's the point in wasting time like that if I have no intentions of getting with them?” he asks and you cringe at his words. 

“Hey… no, I've always made my intentions clear with them, not my problem if they end up wanting more… What's with the judgy look? I don't fuck around that much,” he clarifies. You turn to look at him, only to find him eyeing the jersey.

You whisper a sarcastic ‘sure’ as he brings his arms around and it almost looks like he's about to hug you but he simply grabs your shoulders to turn you around till your back is facing him.

His fingers move your hair out of the way before gliding them over his name on the back of the jersey.

“Suits you,” he mumbles and it's barely audible. 

His fingers accidentally make contact with your nape, tickling your skin and you push his hand away as a reflex. He doesn’t say anything and it's another one of those awkward silences, making you wonder why they've been happening so many times today. 

“I'll miss you,” he says and you look at him as he moves away from you to slump down on the bed, resting on his elbows, having tidied up the entire room.

“You'll be back in about a month's time,” You reply, your cheeks feeling warmer due to such an out-of-place confession. 

“I told you you were welcome to stay at my place for the summer,” he shrugs.

“I know, but it’s the last time I'd be able to attend those workshops… and maybe try for an internship while I still have time,” you sit next to him and he sits up properly to face you.

“Do–,” he stops abruptly, his face showing he’s fighting his own thoughts, “Take care, okay? Don’t be lazy with food or miss meals. If you don’t feel like cooking, just order in.”

“Yes, mother,” you bow, giggling. He rolls his eyes again before hooking his arm around you to catch you in a headlock, but you’re quick to move out of it, escaping as you get off the bed and away from him. He simply lets out a booming laughter at you predicting his movements, shaking his head as he leans back down on his elbows.

As the laughter dies down quickly, he lets out a sigh, “Can’t believe packing took so long, I’m tired.” 

You try not to stare but you can’t help but notice how gorgeous he looks like this – the way his legs rest off the bed from knees down make his thighs look thicker than they already are, while his torso looks slender and muscular at the same time. Even when clothed, Reiner has the type of body that has you imagining what's underneath and makes you feel perverted for wanting to see him naked, imagining all kinds of dirty things.

When you look at his face, adorned with the cowboy hat, your stomach does a flip and you look down at your feet to collect your wandering thoughts, “Should I leave? You can take a nap, we’ll meet later for dinner.”

“What? No, stay,” he pats the space next to him and this time you follow him, leaning back on your elbows as well. 

You turn to look at him only to find him already smiling at you softly. When your eyes meet, you mumble ever so quietly, “I’ll miss you too.”

“I’ll be back in about a month's time,” he mimics your statement from earlier and it’s your turn to roll your eyes. He laughs and you smile at him nonetheless. 

His eyes wander down to your lips and yours follow his movement. He bites the corner of his lip briefly in thought, before mumbling a ‘fuck this.’

Your eyebrows furrow and the silence is soon replaced by the rapid beating of your heart when Reiner suddenly moves closer, almost leaning over you till your noses are only about an inch apart.

He looks into your eyes, searching for permission. You toss the hat he's wearing to the side before cupping one hand over his cheek gently. He takes it as a sign, closing the gap to kiss you hard.

Since you’re supporting your upper body on one elbow, your balance goes off when his bodyweight pushes onto yours.

This breaks the kiss and you giggle as you stumble back on the bed. Reiner straddles you, caging you under him before kissing you hastily again.

His fingers intertwine with yours as he pins your hands above your head. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and you let him. It's filthy – the way the room is quiet except for the desperate smooching sounds. 

He breaks the kiss when you're both out of breath, instead pecking your cheek before nudging his nose to your jaw and you tilt your face to the side to give him access. His lips latch to your neck and your breath hitches.

This is real, it dawns on you. This is nothing like the one time you'd shared a drunken 3am kiss with him about a year ago at a friend's party. A kiss that had directly influenced your crush on him to grow exponentially. A kiss that had been left unaddressed since both of you assumed the other would've forgotten, neither wanting to be the one to bring it up in fear of being that fool.

“You look so cute in my jersey,” his words break your thought. He bites your skin, causing you to whimper at the feeling.

“Rei– mmh– Reiner, wait,” you sigh and he stops to look at you, his grip on your hands loosening slowly. 

“Do you not want to…”

“No! I mean– I do,” you move away from under him to sit up in front of him, “What does this mean to you?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“I mean… are you just gonna fuck and forget me too?” you add bluntly.

“I'm not crazy to jeopardise my friendship with you just cause I couldn’t keep it in my pants,” he states dryly.

“Oh,” you fiddle with the hem of the jersey, recounting your next words in your head, “I… I've had a bit of a crush on you for a while actually, so I don’t want to be just another girl you sleep with and never call again.”

“Me too,” he confesses. Your head shoots up as you stare at him, perplexed. “Well, the feeling’s mutual. When we kissed back then, I thought it was only cause there was something unfinished there, you know? But now even after a year, it still hasn't faded,” he scratches the back of his neck.

You stare at him and he waits for you to speak. You clear your throat before finding a comprehensible chain of words.

“Then how come you still continued to fuck around so much when you had this massive crush on me?” you wonder out loud.

“The best way to get over someone is to get on someone,” he laughs.

“Maybe I should’ve done that too… college would’ve been more adventurous that way.”

“Well, better late than never,” he caresses your cheek. You shrug.

He pinches your cheek lightly, “But just so you know, I haven’t had sex in like five months now… it's when I realised I really liked you.”

“Oh my– five months? How are you still alive?” You tease, feigning shock. His palm covers your face as he shoves you away playfully, causing you to laugh once again.

“Then why did you never tell me about it?” you enquire again.

“Hmm?”

“Your crush… maybe we could’ve gotten together much sooner if you’d confessed,” You press further.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Your face burns up, “I– well, you know…”

“Yes, exactly,” he adds and it makes you giggle.

“So, what changed today? How come you’re so brave all of a sudden?” you egg on.

“Because I'm selfish,” he looks into your eyes, dead serious, “and jealous… I'll be gone for like a month, I know Jean's staying back as well… didn't want to lose you to him simply cause I didn't have enough balls to tell you how I felt.”

You snort at his words and he smiles at you. You hesitantly hold his hands into yours as you feel the tension dissipate. 

“Reiner, you’re like my best friend… I know you and you know me. Be honest, am I going to regret this?”

You can sense he’s thinking carefully about what he’s going to say next. So, you wait in anticipation as your throat feels tight due to the nervousness.

“You know sex has never been that big of a deal to me… but if you want to know, yes, it’ll be different with you because I really do like you... You’re kinda adorable,” he kisses your knuckles.

When you don’t speak, he continues, “I know it’s not exactly convincing, but I hope you can tell when I'm being sincere. You can trust your best friend, right?”

You nod as you bite your lip in thought. He intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling your attention back to him, “You won’t regret it. Just give me a chance, okay?”

You smile and nod your head. He leans forward to kiss you briefly. You pull back to speak again, “It's been a while since I've done this… just letting you know.”

“Oh… we don't have to do anything today,” he reassures you, “I’m just glad everything’s out there now.”

You shake your head too eagerly, “No! I want to.”

“Okay,” his smile widens as he wraps his arms around your waist, readjusting your position with ease till you’re straddling his lap. 

Your breath hitches once again as he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, “I would've actually combusted into flames if you'd said no.” 

You chuckle at this, shaking your head at him, resting your palms over his shoulders.

“Relax, it's just me,” he cups your face into his hands.

“That's precisely why I'm nervous,” you reply. He rolls his eyes again before pulling you into a kiss. His left hand is placed firmly on your cheek while his right hand pushes the small of back forward.

When he grinds his hips against yours, you feel how hard he already is. He pulls at your bottom lip as his left hand dips into the jersey to grope at the mound of your breast, causing you to let out a soft moan.

“Shit,” he huffs before his lips move down to your collarbone as you grind back and forth over his clothed cock. You pull away from him as you take off your jersey before hastily removing the tank top as well. 

Reiner grins at you, quick to unhook your bra and toss it to the ground before cupping your tits and squeezing them together. You hum as you tug at his t-shirt to take it off but struggle due to his arms restricting the movement. He snorts softly before pulling it off himself in one swift motion.

You run your fingers over his bare chest, feeling flustered at how perfectly sculpted his torso is. Your eyes meet and you don't shy away, wanting a reassurance of his sincerity.

“Yes?” He questions as he smiles softly, recognizing that look.

“I guess there's no going back now,” you joke awkwardly followed by a laughter that makes it even more awkward.

“Why go back when something better awaits us in the future?” He smiles as he gives you a quick peck.

“And what's that?” your fingers find their way to his nape, playing with the fade of his beautiful blonde hair.

“A boyfriend who's whipped for you, can make you happy, keep you satisfied and is also your best friend,” he states all the while tracing his index and middle finger down your collarbone to your perked nipples.

“I don't know about the last one… I doubt we're best friends,” you suck in air through your teeth as you tease him.

“Right… best-est friends then,” he smiles and you laugh at him.

“That was horrible!”

“All my blood is rushing towards a different head… don’t expect me to crack good jokes,” he grunts before abruptly pushing you down on the bed and his lips are quick to attach to your neck, causing your laughter to turn into a squeaky whimper.

Before you realise it, he’s yanked your shorts away, leaving you only in your underwear. You want to facepalm yourself when you realise you’re wearing boxer briefs – not exactly your sexiest pair of underwear. He chuckles slightly.

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothing…” he presses his lips together to suppress his grin before joking, “Didn’t know you shopped from the men’s section.”

“Ah… I forgot you’re used to pretty thongs. Sorry to disappoint, buddy,” you pat his head in an almost condescending manner.

“Not at all, I'm not that shallow… it’s what on the inside that matters,” he smirks as he hooks his fingers into the waistband before pulling the fabric off of you. You smile at his joke but quickly find yourself getting flustered at being completely naked in front of him – his gaze raking over your body making it far from easy to keep your cool.

You push him back till you’re sitting up straight, raking your nails over his torso softly. You tilt your head to kiss him, cupping his jaw as your tongue slides into his mouth before you feel his fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer. You break the kiss to look at him, blurting your words out before your bravado fades, “Take off your clothes.”

He nods before getting off the bed to slide his sweats down along with his underwear in one swift motion, letting his dick spring free. You gulp as you stare shamelessly at his glorious cock, realising why all the women he hooked up with always wanted to come back for more.

Seeing him this way made you discover two things about yourself – one, you’d been dreaming of this way more than you’d realised; two, you might’ve just developed a size kink in case you didn’t already have one before.

You shift till you're sitting on the edge of the bed, holding your hand out to him. He moves closer, his fingers combing through your hair before tucking the loose strands behind your ear.

You smile at him before your eyes break contact to instead look at his painfully hard cock, leaking with precum, waiting for you to take care of it. As you wrap your fingers around it, you feel Reiner grip your hair lightly. You lick your lips before enveloping them around his tip, sucking gently to test the waters.

When you hear him groan, you swirl your tongue around the head, making his grip on your hair tighten. Your left hand splays over the back of his thigh while your right hand moves to the bottom of his shaft that you can’t take in your mouth.

As you bob your head over his length with your hand adding to his unbridled pleasure, you feel tears forming in your eyeline when his tip hits the back of your throat a few times.

Admittedly, you try your best to keep up despite your jaw aching as his low moans fuel your desire but you let out a muffled whimper when he pushes your head closer. 

His head that was lulling back till now tilts forward to look at you as his grip on your hair loosens as he tries to steady his hips, “Shit, sorry baby.”

You shake your head slightly before pulling away from him. You murmur an ‘it’s okay’ before quickly taking him in your mouth once again. You fasten your pace, sucking him in your mouth while your hand squeezes the bottom of his length tighter. You can tell he’s close by how he twitches slightly, coupled with how his thigh muscles are flexing.

“W-where?” he huffs, voice strained. You pull away from his dick, motioning towards your tits. His eyes fixate on your chest as your hand keeps on pumping his dick and within moments, your skin is covered with his sticky white load, trickling down the valley of your breasts. You squeeze his length till his cum spurts out completely.

“Fuck… holy shit. You’re so hot,” he pants as his hand glides over your hair as if to praise you for doing a good job. You lean back on the bed, resting your weight on your arms as you smile at him lazily, too tired to speak.

Reiner bends down to grab his t-shirt from the floor before leaning over you to wipe his cum off your tits slowly but you let out a chuckle when it feels as if he’s spreading it around more than cleaning it up. 

Once he’s finished ‘cleaning up’, he tosses the t-shirt away before spreading your legs apart and getting on his knees in front of you. His hands rub over your thighs in a comforting manner as he smiles at you. You lean forward to kiss him and feel him pull you towards him till you’re sliding off the bed and onto his lap. 

His lips move down to your neck while his fingers play with your tits, causing you to moan softly. His right hand abandons your tit to move down to your core and you squirm when you feel two fingers glide your folds open, spreading the wet arousal around.

“Fuck… Reiner,” you sigh, bucking your hips forward while your fingertips rake his back. You slap a palm over your mouth when his middle and ring fingers slide into your cunt. He continues to suck and bite the skin over your collarbones, leaving tiny angry marks all over the expanse of your neck while his fingers fuck into you. He chuckles at your attempt to muffle your moans.

“Baby, you’re gonna have to be a lot quieter…” his other hand pulls yours away from your lips before gripping over your jaw, “if you don’t want anyone to hear your pretty voice.”

He kisses you fervently, shoving his tongue into your mouth to stifle your moans quite effectively, except the noise is now replaced with the wet kisses and his fingers pumping in and out of you ruthlessly.

Your nails dig into his shoulders to steady yourself as you break the kiss, your chest heaving as you look at him with a fucked out expression, lips connected with a thin string of saliva that disappears just as quickly as it forms.

“Shit… I can’t wait any longer. Please let me fuck you?” he asks as he kisses your cheek softly. You nod as you follow his action, kissing his cheek in return. His fingers pull out of you and you feel the sudden emptiness as he grabs you by your hips to help you sit up on the bed once again.

He gets up to walk to his closet. You see him rummage through it briefly before closing the door. When he turns around, you see a box of condoms in his hand. However, when he opens it, you see his face drop but you don’t have to ask him why when you see him hold up the single pack left in his hand and throw the empty box on the floor.

“And you said you don’t fuck a lot,” you joke, solely to make him laugh.

Instead he rolls his eyes at you again before defending himself, “I don’t… if I did, I’d have tons of 'em lying around, just in case.”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” you tease again as you move back to lie down fully on the mattress, “just fuck me right and all’s forgiven.”

“Bet on it,” he grins like an idiot and quickly puts the condom on before climbing on top of you. He grabs one of the spare pillows to place it under your lower back. You lift your hips up and let him readjust your position to his liking, till his knees are hooked under your thighs to keep them wide open.

“Ready?” he asks as he glides his tip over your folds to collect your slick before lining it up at your entrance.

You huff out a ‘mhmm’ as you nod your head, accompanied with a nervous giggle. He leans down to give you a quick peck before whispering against your lips, “Breathe…gonna make you feel so good.” 

As his tip pushes into your hole, you suck in a deep breath that turns into a constricted exhale when you feel him slowly push deeper into you. 

“Ahh– Rei– oh god,” Your eyebrows knit as your hands find their way to his chest, nails digging into his flesh shakily.

“Too much? Fuck– want me to stop?” he huffs, trying not to lose his composure at how your walls are fluttering around him. 

“No… please keep going,” you beg desperately as your arms hook around his shoulders. He nods and you close your eyes.

He kisses your temple as he slowly continues to push inside you, “Breathe baby, relax.”

Reiner rests his forehead against yours as his ragged breaths fan your face and you can tell he's trying his best to be gentle with you. 

“Oh god,” you sigh when he bottoms out. He shushes you as his left hand grabs both your wrists, pinning them firmly over your head. As he braces his bodyweight with his other hand, his knees push your legs further apart. He pulls out slowly before sliding back into you with an excruciatingly slow pace.

You whimper when you feel your walls hug his length tightly. He repeats this for a few more thrusts to let you adjust to his size. But truth be told, it has your patience wearing thin, wanting nothing more than to feel him rail your brains out.

“Reiner p-please,” you moan, only for him to play dumb.

“Yes?”

“Faster, please!”

“Like this?” he asks as he slows down further, enjoying the way your frustration shows on your face. He kisses the crease between your eyebrows gently and while the action makes you feel things, your sexual frustration precedes it by miles.

“Reiner, I swear to god, if you don–”

“Remember, you asked for this,” he interrupts as his grip around your wrists tightens, pulling out in one swift motion before slamming back into you. This makes you moan louder than before and you can tell he’s enjoying it a bit too much. His pace quickens as his hips slam against yours with an ungodly force. You cry his name out, mixed with lewd curses as your wrists wiggle against his hold to break free.

“Mmh– Reiner,” you cry and he leans down to kiss your forehead. You feel your tears trickle down the sides and you focus your blurry vision on his face. His eyebrows are knitted with a concentrated expression on his face. 

“That’s it– fuck… tell ‘em who’s fucking you so good, baby,” he groans before kissing your cheek and biting your earlobe. You feel a bit more aware and embarrassed at his words, tilting your head to the side to drown out your moans into his mouth. He obliges as he kisses you back, alternating between shoving his tongue down your throat in a way that has your stomach doing flips and biting your lower lip before releasing it with a pop.

His lips find their way to one of your breasts, sucking on the hardened nipple and making your back arch. You try to wriggle your wrist again before begging him, “Reiner, let me touch you, please.”

“Okay, baby, whatever you want,” he says before his teeth pull at your nipple and your brain feels foggy due to the sensation. He lets go of your wrists and as soon as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, he wraps his arm around your waist. He pulls you to him firmly as he sits up straight, still buried deep inside you as you straddle his lap. 

Straddling him like this hits much better and you find yourself clawing at his shoulders and biceps when he lifts you by your hips firmly before slamming you onto his cock with ease. Reiner’s lips are back on your neck once again as he practically uses you like his own personal fleshlight.

You moan his name with ragged breaths as your pussy flutters around his cock. He slows down, breathing getting heavier before he switches to grinding your hips back and forth. You squirm against him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

From this angle, you can see your face in the wall mirror. You lift your head up slightly to observe the way your bodies are moving together and your cheeks grow hot at how fucked you look, and then you look down to see the freshly formed red marks on Reiner’s shoulders – it’s nothing less than a porno, and you feel your walls clench around him.

“Shit– baby, I’m close,” he cusses as he picks up the speed once again. You close your eyes shut, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself as he starts bouncing you up and down at a faster pace. His cock impales you so good, you have to fight the urge to accidentally say you love him.

His movement gets erratic as his fingers dig further into your flesh as it starts to sting ever so slightly. He bites the skin over your shoulder blade to stifle his moans when you feel his dick twitch inside you. You hear soft cusses as his movement slows down before his grip on your hips loosens and he holds you in place for a moment.

Your pussy throbs, feeling incomplete as he pulls out before gently laying you down on the mattress. He kisses your chin before sitting up to take off the condom, tying a knot around it and tossing it in the vicinity of the torn wrapper. His hands make their way around your ankles as he bends down to hook them over his shoulders.

Your breath hitches once again when his face moves closer to your core. He places a kiss on the inside of your right thigh and rubbing soft caresses over your left thigh, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbles and you lace your fingers into his hair. His fingers part your folds and you close your eyes, humming approvingly. He licks a strip up from your dripping hole to your clit, and your head falls back as you sink into the mattress.

Your whisper broken praises when he starts alternating between sucking on your puffy clit and poking his tongue into your entrance. Reiner laps at your juices relentlessly, making your legs shake. Your back arches when he adds two fingers into your entrance, his tongue solely focusing on your oversensitive clit. Your grip on his hair tightens and he hums as he continues to get you closer to your release. 

“Taste so good, babe…” he mumbles between licks before sucking on your clit. His words go to your head and you chant his name in broken moans. 

Your hips jerk off the mattress slightly as you push his head impossibly closer to your cunt, your entire body shaking as you feel your pleasure build up. He curls his fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace and you feel your legs twitch.

“Yesyesyes– just like that, don't stop,” you cry as you feel your pussy throb and twitch, your muscles squeezing up before your orgasm washes over you and you cum on his fingers. Reiner takes his fingers out with a big grin, generously slurping your juices up. 

“Oh god, Reiner. Stop–” You try to push his head away due to how sensitive you feel but the man between your legs doesn't budge as he licks you clean. You claw at his hair roughly and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss on your clit and finally letting go. 

Your legs fall off his shoulders limply and he gives you a satisfactory smirk. You hold your arms out for him. He moves up to rest his entire weight on top of you and you almost feel the wind knock out of your lungs due to how heavy he is.

“R-reiner… I'll die if you stay like this any longer,” you exaggerate and he laughs. He moves down till his head is resting on your stomach instead.

“Better?” he enquires and you nod your head as you caress his hair softly. You giggle when he peppers your belly with lazy kisses. He sighs in satisfaction as his hands roam all over your body with a gentle pressure, “I love this… staying with you like this.” 

“I’m going to miss you even more now,” you pat his head softly.

“Should I just tell my parents I’m staying back for an internship or some shit?” The way he speaks makes you wonder if he’s seriously considering it.

“No? They’ll see through your bullshit like always,” you state and he slumps, groaning against your stomach.

“How am I gonna handle not being so close to you for a whole damn month?” he looks up to smile at you and you smile back. You're about to reply but freeze in place when you hear someone fiddle with the door lock. Your eyes widen as you stare at Reiner.

“WAIT!” he shouts as he gets off you, hearing the door unlock but it’s too late. He quickly manages to haphazardly cover your bodies with his single blanket before Jean walks in.

The new intruder stops dead in his tracks when he sees you next to Reiner. You hold the blanket close to your chest to prevent it from slipping as Reiner sits up next to you.  

You give Jean an almost apologetic grin and he forces himself to recover quickly to avoid further embarrassment. 

He clears his throat before looking at Reiner. “You forgot to put a sock...” his words trail off as he points to the door.

“Sorry, it just happened–” Reiner rubs the back of his neck as he drags out his excuse, but before he can finish his sentence, Jean mumbles an ‘alright’ before walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh as you look at Reiner.

“What?” he asks as he turns to lie on his side to face you, head resting against his bicep.

“I don’t know why, I feel bad for him,” you pout as you run your fingers through his hair to flatten the messy strands.

He wraps his free arm around you to pull you closer, “Eh… he should’ve seen it coming. He knew we’d kissed.”

You look up at him in surprise, “He did?”

“‘If y'all didn’t go beyond a kiss, nothing’s gonna happen’... so no, I don’t really feel bad for him,” he shrugs.

“Reiner, you’re a meanie,” you let out a chuckle as you shake your head.

“If not wanting another dude to steal my girl is being a meanie then sure, I’ll proudly be a meanie for you,” he kisses the top of your head as his arm traces your silhouette, lowering the blanket off your body along the way.

You blush as you lean forward to give him a quick peck. He wraps his arm around your waist, turning you over till you're straddling him. You rest your head on his chest as he draws circles on your back. 

“Reiner?” you look up at him, placing your hands gently on his chest.

“Hmm?”

“I really like you,” you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. This confession feels a lot more vulnerable than the one from earlier.

“I do too,” he smiles as he takes your hand before bringing it to his lips to place a reassuring kiss on your knuckles. You giggle when he bites the skin playfully. His hand leaves yours to slide down your lower back before squeezing your butt.

“Shit– maybe I can pull out this time?” he suggests as his hand slides over to your pussy.

“No way!” you slap his chest.

“Ugh… fine… put on some clothes if you want to avoid that,” he slaps your butt, earning a yelp from you. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you tightly.

“Okay… let me go,” you try to move but he hugs you tighter.

“No, you feel so soft,” he hums as his hands move down to knead your asscheeks. You hum as you rest comfortably on top of him, tracing the muscles of his arm lazily. A few moments pass by in silence before your stomach rumbles, embarrassingly loud.

Reiner laughs, “I guess we have to get out now.”

“I’m starving,” you confess as you laugh back awkwardly.

“Good god, you’re so fucking cute,” he flips you around till he’s on top before kissing you softly. You feel his fingers wrap around your throat as his tongue invades your mouth once again. You hook your legs around his lower back and his hips grind against yours on instinct. You let out a soft moan as your arms hug his wide back, pulling him closer and he groans into the kiss.

“Don't do that… I'm trying my best to hold back,” he scolds as he breaks away from the kiss. 

You trace your index finger down his torso playfully, “Maybe we can buy another pack on our way back?”

“Okay, let’s get you some food,” he kisses you hastily before springing out of bed.

You laugh as you follow behind him before making your way to the bathroom door. He hands you his towel and you’re about to step into the bathroom but stop when he calls your name. You look back at him, puzzled.

“Wear my jersey.”

~fin~