#i know i could not drink but it feels impossible

[mechaknight-98]

No Tomorrow (NSFW) FT Jihyo Park

Series Masterlist Here

Operator’s notes: Please not while there is a lot of plot and fluff in this story there is an insane amount of smut. Also my current longest posted fic so enjoy more Jihyo.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd's roar filled the arena, a wave of energy that sent shivers down Jihyo's spine. As the music started, her body moved effortlessly, each step, each note, perfectly synchronized with her group. But this time, something was different. There was a fire burning within her, a drive that pushed her to give more than she ever had before.

Voljune's presence was strong, their memories and emotions intertwining with hers, fueling her performance. With each beat, Jihyo felt Voljune's pride and determination course through her veins. She wasn’t just performing; she was leading, and guiding her group with a newfound strength that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the music.

As the chorus hit, Jihyo glanced out into the crowd, her eyes scanning the sea of faces. And then, she saw him. Dio, standing near the front, his smile radiant as he danced along with the music. His presence was a beacon, a source of light that filled her with warmth.

*“Look at him,”* Voljune’s voice echoed in her mind, soft and admiring. *“He’s so happy, so free. We need to protect that, Jihyo.”*

*“We will,”* Jihyo replied internally, her heart swelling with emotion. *“No matter what it takes, we’ll keep him safe. He deserves this happiness, and we’ll ensure he keeps it.”*

The thought of Dio, his laughter, and his joy, gave Jihyo a renewed sense of purpose. She could feel Voljune’s memories of survival, of pushing through impossible odds, blending with her own desire to succeed. It wasn’t just about being the best; it was about being the best for them—for Dio, for Twice, for everyone who believed in her.

With a final burst of energy, Jihyo led the group into the climax of the performance, her voice soaring, her movements more powerful than ever. The crowd responded, their cheers vibrating through the stage, a tangible confirmation of the connection she had forged with them.

As the final note lingered in the air, Jihyo stood tall, her chest heaving with exertion, but her heart full. She glanced at Dio one last time, and his beaming smile was all the reward she needed.

*“We’re stronger together,”* Voljune whispered, the warmth of their shared bond enveloping Jihyo.

*“And we’ll keep getting stronger,”* Jihyo thought back, determination burning brightly within her. *“For him, for us, for everything we’re fighting for.”*

After the performance and a few celebratory drinks with the other members, Jihyo headed home, her body buzzing with the high of the night. The energy from the stage, the cheers of the crowd, and the warmth of her group’s love still swirled in her chest as she entered the code for their small place.

As the door clicked open, a wave of something unexpected surged through her—desire, anticipation. Voljune stirred within her, not just an idle whisper in the back of her mind but a powerful presence, closer than usual. Jihyo paused at the doorway, her hand gripping the handle as an unspoken sensation coursed between them.

Voljune’s voice broke through, her tone unsteady, *“I... I’m feeling something strange. Your hormones, Jihyo... they’re spiking.”*

Jihyo blinked, slightly amused by the reaction. *“What do you mean?”*

*“You’re about to start ovulating,”* Voljune responded, her voice husky, edged with something unfamiliar. *“I’ve never felt anything like this before... this intensity. I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself around Dio.”*

Jihyo chuckled softly, her hand relaxing on the door. *“Oh, I think he won’t mind. You know how he is.”* The thought of Dio brought warmth to her chest, a feeling of safety and love that grounded her. She pushed the door open fully and stepped inside, quieting her footsteps as she walked down the hallway to their shared bedroom.

The soft glow from the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle silver hue across the room. Dio lay peacefully asleep, his broad frame sprawled comfortably across the bed. His breathing was slow, rhythmic, and calming, and Jihyo’s heart swelled at the sight of him. For a moment, she just stood there, watching him. His presence felt like home—a grounding force amidst the chaos of her life.

*“He looks so at peace,”* Voljune murmured, her voice softer now, full of wonder. *“You’re right... he shouldn’t be alive, after everything. But... I’m happy he is.”*

Jihyo smiled, her heart warming at Voljune’s admission. *“Me too,”* she whispered.

She quietly set down her things and tiptoed to the bathroom, slipping into the shower. The warm water cascaded over her, easing the lingering tension in her muscles from the performance. As the steam enveloped her, she reflected on the conversation with Voljune. She could feel how Voljune’s emotions were intertwined with hers more deeply now—the shared pulse of excitement, desire, even curiosity. Voljune had never experienced these human urges in such a raw, immediate way. It was as if their bond was evolving, becoming something more intricate, more unified.

Jihyo stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, and slipped into something comfortable. Quietly, she padded back into the bedroom, the soft shuffle of her feet barely disturbing the stillness.

Sliding into bed beside Dio, she felt the familiar warmth of his body against hers. The moment she pressed herself against his back, a deep contentment settled over her. She spooned him gently, her arm draping over his waist, her fingers resting against his chest. Dio stirred slightly in his sleep, his hand unconsciously moving to rest atop hers. Even in his dreams, he sought her out.

*“You know,”* Jihyo whispered internally to Voljune, *“I’ve thought about this a lot. About how he defies everything we know. He’s stronger than he should be. He’s survived things no one else could.”*

Voljune hummed in agreement, their shared thoughts rippling between them like waves. *“It’s more than that though, isn’t it? There’s something about him. Something... beyond us, beyond even my kind.”*

Jihyo’s fingers tightened slightly on Dio’s chest, her mind drifting as she buried her face into the curve of his back. *“Whatever it is, I’m just glad he’s here. Alive. With us.”*

*“So am I,”* Voljune replied softly, her tone full of conviction. *“We’ll protect him, Jihyo. No matter what.”*

As Jihyo’s body relaxed against Dio’s, she felt the subtle, quiet connection between the three of them—herself, Dio, and Voljune—all bound together by something stronger than mere survival. It was love, in its most primal, most protective form.

And in that moment, as she drifted closer to sleep, Jihyo knew that no matter the challenges ahead, they were stronger together. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for the man peacefully resting beside her—and nothing Voljune wouldn’t do either.

As she embraced him she felt a bizarre texture on his chest. She traced the pattern and a memory flashed into her mind:

As Jihyo’s fingers traced the bizarre pattern on Diabolos’s chest, a sudden wave of foreign memories crashed through her mind, sharp and vivid. She felt Voljune stirring, pulling her consciousness back, and before she could react, the world around her shifted.

The scent of iron and blood filled the air. The echo of ragged breathing and distant screams rang in her ears.

It wasn’t her memory—this was Voljune’s.

Jihyo blinked, disoriented, but the scene before her was all too real. She was no longer in the comfort of her shared bedroom with Dio. Instead, she stood in a cold, dimly lit room—a sterile, metallic chamber that hummed with faint energy, like a place where no warmth could survive.

Diabolos stood at the center, his body hunched over in agony. His skin was pale, and slick with sweat, and his breath came in uneven gasps. His chest, once powerful and broad, was heaving as though something was trying to tear its way out from within. His eyes, normally so full of life, were wide and wild, as though he were trapped inside his own body, fighting against an invisible force.

Voljune, or at least a younger version of her, stood helplessly at the edge of the room, bound by the laws of her kind. She could only watch as her sibling, Ruhan, ripped through Dio’s flesh in a grotesque display of parasitic horror.

Jihyo, feeling every bit of Voljune’s fear and disgust, was frozen in the memory. Her mind screamed, No, not him!

Diabolos’s body convulsed violently, his muscles spasming as the skin on his chest bulged unnaturally. With a sickening crack, something inside him shifted—something dark, monstrous. And then it happened. His chest split open with a wet, gruesome tear, blood splattering the floor as Ruhan, Voljune’s sibling, began to force their way out. He sensed the power of the chained Narset nearby and craved it so he did what he always did he found a new host.

Ruhan wasn’t a being of grace like Voljune. They were savage, and feral, driven by the need to bond with something more powerful, something that could feed their endless hunger for strength. Narset had called to them—promised them dominance, power beyond imagination—and Ruhan had answered.

As Ruhan’s form writhed free of Diabolos’s body, they were like a mass of sinew and tendrils, a horrifying amalgamation of parasitic flesh. Dio’s screams of pain echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the cold metal walls. The sound was pure agony, a sound that could tear through even the most hardened hearts. Narset watched the fire rage inside of her pupil's eyes as he fought to stay alive.

Voljune, still bound by the laws of their kind, watched in horror as her sibling abandoned the man she had grown so attached to. She had known this moment would come—had felt the tension building for weeks as Narset’s presence grew stronger—but she hadn’t been ready for the sheer violence of it. Ruhan had used Dio, fed on him, and then discarded him like a broken vessel.

Narset stood at the far side of the room, her eyes gleaming with twisted terror as Ruhan slithered to her Chained body. She tried to run away and hoped that she could do anything but Ruhan was moving closer.

“No!” Voljune screamed within Jihyo’s mind. “Dio... don’t let them... please... fight it...” But even as she begged, she knew it was futile. The Severing was nearly complete. The process was supposed to kill the host, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell.

But Diabolos—he wasn’t like anyone else. Even in his weakest moments, his will was indomitable.

Ruhan fully detached from Diabolos, their grotesque form slithering toward Narset. The room was silent for a moment, save for Diabolos’s labored breathing and the gagging of Narset as Ruhan forced himself into Narset. Dio's chest was a ruin of blood and torn flesh, but he was still alive. He shouldn’t have been, but there he stood, his body trembling as he fought to stay conscious.

And then, with a strength that shouldn’t have been possible, Diabolos pushed himself up from his knees, his hand gripping his chest where Ruhan had torn free. His eyes blazed with fury, cutting through the haze of pain. His entire body radiated with an unnatural force, something deeper than physical power—born of his sheer will to survive.

He staggered forward, toward Narset and Ruhan, his lips curled into a snarl.

“I’m not done yet,” Diabolos growled, his voice hoarse but filled with venom.

Narset turned, now fully merged as one surprised to see him still standing. For a moment, even she faltered. She had underestimated him—underestimated the force of his spirit. But before Diabolos could make another move, his body collapsed, his strength finally giving out.

Voljune rushed forward, her own form stretching toward him, desperate to stop the bleeding, desperate to help him survive. But Narset’s laugh echoed through the chamber, cold and mocking. “You see, Voljune? He’s already lost. He’s nothing without me.”

Voljune couldn’t respond, couldn’t even speak. She could only focus on Diabolos, on keeping him alive. She pressed her essence into him, trying to heal the worst of the damage, trying to save what little was left of the man she had grown to care for.

As the memory began to fade, Jihyo was pulled back into the present, the familiar warmth of her bedroom returning. She found herself lying beside Dio once more, her hand still resting gently on his chest where the faint scars of the Severing remained. The horror of the memory lingered in her mind, but so did one undeniable truth:

He had survived, and that was enough for now as she snuggled closer to him, and found comfort in his warmth.

The next morning Dio got up early and went over his website to manage any of the recent orders then sent the confirmation and payment to his embroiderer so the clothes could be ready to ship. After that, he decided to make breakfast for Jihyo. Jihyo and Voljune woke up a little later to the smell of cooked meat and a few other sweet-smelling scents, but they couldn’t process that as Jihyo’s body was deep in the throes of desire and lust. She got with a ravenous hunger that food couldn’t fill. She needed dick. Luckily for her, her favorite one was just outside.

She stripped down to her bra and panties before walking outside where she watched Dio with rapacious eyes. Dio was so caught up in cooking though that he didn’t notice the gaze of a hungry lioness watching him. He didn’t notice her inching closer as he finished until she pounced on him when he had finished the dishes.

He was startled when Jihyo grabbed his shoulders before turning him around and violently kissing him. She smelled good to him almost irresistibly so. This was in part due to Voljune knowing Dio and what made his heart race, and making Jihyo’s pheromones mimic it.

“God you smell so good,” Dio said as his head swam with lust. Jihyo smiled as his eyes lost focus. She rubbed her thighs together in anticipation, before grabbing him and bringing him into another sloppy kiss. Voljune couldn’t hold back anymore as she dialed up her and Jihyo’s sensitivity to as high as it could go. When she broke this kiss and stared at Dio he didn’t see Jihyo or even Voljune he saw his woman radiating sex as she beckoned him back to their bedroom. Jihyo smiled before locking the door.

“You’re not leaving this room until you can’t get it up.” She said before finding his box of condoms and throwing them out of the room. Dio gulped terrified and turned on. His dick painfully erect peeked through his pants. Jihyo smiled as she closed the distance while taking her bra off. When she climbed on the bed the only thing on both of her minds was draining Dio dry.

“Are you ready?” Jihyo said in an almost lullaby tone which reached the dazed Dio. He nodded slowly making Jihyo smile as she pulled down his sweatpants freeing his cock. Jihyo began to lick the underside of his shaft going from base to tip. Slowly she would trace his cock’s silhouette with her tongue and he’d watch the excruciating torture tear his brain apart and mend it barely back with the pleasure she granted.

“Fuck Jihyo just ride me I can’t take it anymore!” Dio growled as his erection became painful from her work. Jihyo smiled accepting his readiness. She crawled to his face and looked into his eyes. All she could see was a deep lust that mirrored how she felt. She smiled and said,

“Oh, you really want me. You must love me,” she said happily. Dio eyes rolled back as she aligned him with her pussy and slowly sank down. When their hips became flush Jihyo moaned in ecstasy. “Fuck!!! you fill me so well,” Jihyo screamed before slowly bucking her hips trying to adjust how her walls cling to Dio’s cock and she can barely contain the pleasure radiating off of her. It was too much and after three bounces she was cumming all over Dio’s cock, but lucky for her Voljune had her back and her body was ready to go in seconds.

“Okay Dio Fuck me,” Jihyo said and Dio began thrusting into her. His hands rested on her sexy hips and abs as he thrust in and out of her. Jihyo was a sodden wailing mess, as she fell deeper and deeper into the ocean of pleasure Dio and Voljune were giving her. Voljune was also delirious from it all as she felt all of what Jihyo felt. Dio in a weak attempt at revenge reciprocated the same slow tortuous pace Jihyo had subjected him to as she could barely keep it together while he pounded her deep.

“Fuck you’re hitting my G-spot,” Jihyo moaned as she came again. She looked down and pulled Dio to be on top of her, as she wrapped his legs around him.

“Fuck me, please!” Jihyo begged Diabolos.

“Please fucking cum in me,” Jihyo says as her pussy contacts tighter massaging a potent large load out of him. Jihyo is heaving trying to catch her breath but Voljune takes over and for the first time truly feels Jihyo's body as her she wraps her hands around her chest and slowly drifts to her clit.

“Fuck this body is so lewd,” she says

“These swollen plump breasts. This firm soft ass. Fuck this sopping sodden mess between my legs.” Voljune moans. Her words force another erection in Dio and Voljune loses it.

“God yes. Fuck make us serve no other purpose than to be your semen repository. Drown my pussy in your cum. Voljune watches with lusty glee as Dio plows into her. She watches the way her breasts jiggle and reaches out to suck on the left one while Dio continues plowing her pretty pussy. Voljune convulses as another orgasm takes her body. Unable to go any further she tries to convince herself that she can milk another orgasm out of Dio but her body is too tired to and heaving for breath. She smiles along with Jihyo at Dio who’s still hard staring at her magnificent body. Just as she tries to mount another round Jihyo’s phone goes off. Jihyo groaned softly as she looked at her phone, the familiar name lighting up the screen: Dahyun. She glanced over at Diabolos, his presence still filling the room with the lingering intensity of their earlier moment. His body, all burly and imposing, was still poised, but there was something different now. His sharp, almost predatory gaze from earlier had softened considerably. He was smiling at her, but this time, it wasn’t the fierce, consuming look that had sent heat coursing through her veins. Instead, there was a boyish sweetness to his expression—a gentle, almost shy joy that seemed to settle into the lines of his face.

"Hey, Dubu," Jihyo answered, still catching her breath from the earlier tension, "what's going on?"

Dahyun’s bright voice came through the speaker, full of energy as always. "Hey, unnie! DJ, Chewy, and I are going to that restaurant we were talking about—you want to join with Dio?"

Jihyo ran her hand through her hair, eyes drifting back to Diabolos. He was still watching her with that same tempered smile, the type of smile that made her heart squeeze in a completely different way than his fiery, more possessive looks did. It was warm, and content. His energy now was far from the imposing presence he so often carried. He seemed soft, relaxed—almost childlike in his joy like he was perfectly at peace just being here with her.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her gaze lingering on the scar that was etched across his chest. It was a stark reminder of the battles he had fought—both the physical ones and the internal wars she could only imagine. And yet, here he was, his fierce nature temporarily melted into something far more innocent, far more gentle.

“We have unfinished business with him,” Voljune’s voice purred in the back of her mind, her presence filled with immense desire. Jihyo could feel the yearning, the deep pull Voljune had towards Diabolos. It mirrored her own, but there was something more primal in Voljune’s desires, something raw that echoed through their shared bond. Jihyo nodded internally, fully aware of what both she and Voljune wanted to resume. But she was also acutely aware that they hadn’t hung out with their members in what felt like forever.

I want this too, Jihyo thought to herself, her eyes flicking back to Diabolos, who was now stretching lazily, his muscles flexing in a way that made her breath catch again. But there was something equally important in reconnecting with her friends. The love she had for her members was a different kind, but no less essential.

"Sure, we'll be there," Jihyo said happily into the phone, and even though Voljune grumbled internally, there was a sense of agreement. There would be time later for their unfinished business.

Diabolos’s inquisitive gaze followed the shift in her mood. His expression was curious as if sensing the subtle tug-of-war happening within her. "What is it, Yo-yo?" he asked, his voice soft and affectionate, using the nickname that always made her smile.

Jihyo’s heart fluttered at his gentle tone. "Well, Chewy, DJ, and Dubu are going to that K-BBQ restaurant we’ve been talking about," she explained, watching his reaction closely.

His face lit up instantly, a look of pure joy and excitement spreading across his features. The fierceness that was always just beneath the surface melted away completely, replaced by an almost childlike enthusiasm. It was such a stark contrast from the Diabolos she had first met—the one who had been all sharp edges and unrelenting intensity. Now, he was like a kid hearing his favorite friends were coming over to play.

“Oh really?” he said, his tone full of that soft, appreciative joy that always made Jihyo’s heart swell. Voljune stirred within her, the feeling of their connection rippling with warmth as they both observed Diabolos’s shift. His excitement wasn’t just for the food—it was the idea of being with people he cared about, being part of something light and easy.

He is so innocent sometimes, Voljune remarked with gentle affection, her usual hunger tempered by a kind of adoration Jihyo hadn’t felt from her before. It was as if the two of them—Jihyo and Voljune—were seeing a side of Diabolos that softened their edges, made them feel as if they, too, were capable of loving in this childlike, almost pure way.

Jihyo giggled softly, both she and Voljune feeling a surge of playful fondness. "Well, we are. They invited us, so let's get clean and get ready."

Diabolos grinned at her, his joy radiating through the room, and without hesitation, he got up to head for the shower. But before he could disappear into the bathroom, Jihyo reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back gently. There was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes now, a smoldering heat that hadn’t fully disappeared despite the shift in mood. She knew that even in these tender, innocent moments, there was always something stronger, more primal beneath the surface between them.

Her gaze locked with his, and she smiled, her voice dropping to a lower, more seductive tone. “We will continue this later,” she promised, her words laced with an unmistakable intensity. Voljune echoed her, their voices harmonizing in unison within her mind, both filled with the same burning desire.

Diabolos’s eyes darkened briefly, a flicker of that familiar fire returning, but he only smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead softly. “I’m holding you to that,” he murmured before slipping away into the bathroom.

Jihyo watched him go, her thoughts still buzzing with the silent conversation she shared with Voljune. The two of them were so aligned in this moment, both feeling the same deep love for the man who had somehow become their everything. Even in the playful, childlike joy that Diabolos exuded, there was a part of them that wanted to protect him fiercely, to hold onto this tenderness they shared and keep it safe from the darkness that often threatened to consume them all.

As the sound of the shower started, Jihyo smiled to herself, knowing that tonight, they would laugh, eat, and share joy with their friends—but later, there would be time for more. Time to continue what had been so deliciously interrupted.

Jihyo stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair as she heard the soft hum of the shower water in the next room. Her reflection caught the warmth in her eyes, the lingering blush that hadn't quite left her cheeks after her earlier exchange with Diabolos. The excitement of seeing her members—her other family—combined with the quiet thrill of being with Diabolos like this made her feel a warmth deep in her chest.

“He has softened, hasn’t he?” Voljune mused, her voice cutting through Jihyo’s thoughts. “He was once all fire and intensity. But now... look at him. He’s so content with just being here with us, with you.”

Jihyo smiled, nodding as she dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrist. “I’ve noticed,” she replied internally. “It’s like he’s a different person when we’re alone like this. There’s still all that strength, all that power, but it’s so... gentle now.”

“And he’s so in love with you,” Voljune said with a soft chuckle. “It’s adorable. That energy of his used to be so imposing, so aggressive. Now? He just radiates joy when he’s with you, almost like a little kid.”

Jihyo laughed aloud as she glanced back at the closed bathroom door. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute how he lights up around our friends, too. I think it reminds him of something simpler, something more innocent.” She leaned against the dresser, arms folded, thinking about how Diabolos had changed since they’d started dating. It was as if being around her, and by extension, her members had chipped away at some of the harshnesses he’d built up over the years.

The water stopped, and a few moments later, Diabolos emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp, beads of water clinging to his broad shoulders. He was wrapped in a towel, steam trailing behind him as he entered the room. His eyes found Jihyo immediately, softening with that boyish joy she had come to love.

“You look beautiful, Yo-yo,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate.

Jihyo blushed, smiling at him through the mirror. “Thank you. You should get dressed—we don’t want to be late.”

Diabolos laughed lightly, his smile widening. “Right, don’t want to keep the crew waiting.”

As he got dressed, Jihyo watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was something about how easily he moved now, how comfortable he seemed in his skin. It was a stark contrast to the rigid, almost guarded way he had carried himself when they first met. Now, his presence was still powerful but tempered with a softness that matched her energy. She could feel it, the way their energies intertwined so seamlessly now.

“He’s more like us than I ever thought,” Voljune remarked. “That playful love of life, how he cares so deeply for the people around him. It’s different from his old intensity, but it suits him.”

Jihyo nodded, internally agreeing with Voljune’s sentiment. Diabolos had always been strong, and intense, but it was this new side of him—this softer, more open version—that made her fall in love with him even more.

Finally ready, the two of them left the apartment and began their walk to the restaurant. The streets were buzzing with the usual evening energy, the soft hum of cars, and the chatter of people filling the air. Jihyo reached for Diabolos’ hand instinctively, lacing her fingers through his. His hand, though much larger and rougher than hers, fit perfectly, the warmth between them so natural.

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily.

“Do you think Chewy will challenge the chef tonight?” Jihyo asked with a laugh, thinking back to their last dinner where Tzuyu had, with her signature deadpan expression, offered her cooking suggestions to the head chef.

Diabolos chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s got that quiet confidence. It’s like she knows she’s the best at whatever she sets her mind to.”

Jihyo giggled, nodding. “You’re right. But Dahyun’s going to egg her on, for sure. You know how she is—always stirring up trouble just to see Chewy get flustered.”

Voljune interjected, her tone light and amused. “Dahyun’s mischief is delightful. I think she secretly loves how riled up she can make Tzuyu. They’re such a fun pair to watch.”

Jihyo agreed, smiling as she squeezed Diabolos’ hand a little tighter. “I’m so glad we get to see them tonight. It feels like it’s been forever.”

Diabolos glanced down at her, his eyes full of warmth. “Yeah, it’s been too long. I’ve missed hanging out with them too.” He paused for a moment, then added softly, “I like how they make you laugh. You always seem so light and carefree around them.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled at his words. “They do, don’t they? I think it’s because we’ve all been through so much together. They know me better than almost anyone else.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “They ground you, in a way. It’s good for both of us—being around them. And it’s good for Diabolos, too. They bring out this pure joy in him, something that we both cherish.”

As they walked, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, reminiscing about past moments with the members, and laughing at shared memories. Jihyo and Voljune, internally, marveled at how Diabolos was so effortlessly in sync with them, how his softer side blended perfectly with Jihyo’s energy. Even as they joked and teased, there was an unspoken flirty dialogue weaving between the three of them—a shared connection that needed no words.

Diabolos caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Yo-yo?”

Jihyo just smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. Just... happy.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

They continued walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the cool evening air and each other’s company. As they neared the restaurant, the neon sign glowing in the distance, Jihyo felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. She had her members, her friends, and this man—this man who had become her everything.

Voljune’s presence buzzed warmly within her, echoing her thoughts. “We’re in a good place. I like where we are, Yo-yo.”

Jihyo smiled internally, feeling Voljune’s contentment mix with her own. “Yeah, we are.”

Jihyo stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair as she heard the soft hum of the shower water in the next room. Her reflection caught the warmth in her eyes, the lingering blush that hadn't quite left her cheeks after her earlier exchange with Diabolos. The excitement of seeing her members—her other family—combined with the quiet thrill of being with Diabolos like this made her feel a warmth deep in her chest.

“He has softened, hasn’t he?” Voljune mused, her voice cutting through Jihyo’s thoughts. “He was once all fire and intensity. But now... look at him. He’s so content with just being here with us, with you.”

Jihyo smiled, nodding as she dabbed a bit of perfume on her wrist. “I’ve noticed,” she replied internally. “It’s like he’s a different person when we’re alone like this. There’s still all that strength, all that power, but it’s so... gentle now.”

“And he’s so in love with you,” Voljune said with a soft chuckle. “It’s adorable. That energy of his used to be so imposing, so aggressive. Now? He just radiates joy when he’s with you, almost like a little kid.”

Jihyo laughed aloud as she glanced back at the closed bathroom door. “Yeah, it’s kind of cute how he lights up around our friends, too. I think it reminds him of something simpler, something more innocent.” She leaned against the dresser, arms folded, thinking about how Diabolos had changed since they’d started dating. It was as if being around her, and by extension, her members had chipped away at some of the harshnesses he’d built up over the years.

The water stopped, and a few moments later, Diabolos emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp, beads of water clinging to his broad shoulders. He was wrapped in a towel, steam trailing behind him as he entered the room. His eyes found Jihyo immediately, softening with that boyish joy she had come to love.

“You look beautiful, Yo-yo,” he said, his voice deep and affectionate.

Jihyo blushed, smiling at him through the mirror. “Thank you. You should get dressed—we don’t want to be late.”

Diabolos laughed lightly, his smile widening. “Right, don’t want to keep the crew waiting.”

As he got dressed, Jihyo watched him out of the corner of her eye. There was something about how easily he moved now, how comfortable he seemed in his own skin. It was a stark contrast to the rigid, almost guarded way he had carried himself when they first met. Now, his presence was still powerful but tempered with a softness that matched her own energy. She could feel it, the way their energies intertwined so seamlessly now.

“He’s more like us than I ever thought,” Voljune remarked. “That playful love of life, how he cares so deeply for the people around him. It’s different from his old intensity, but it suits him.”

Jihyo nodded, internally agreeing with Voljune’s sentiment. Diabolos had always been strong, and intense, but it was this new side of him—this softer, more open version—that made her fall in love with him even more.

Finally ready, the two of them left the apartment and began their walk to the restaurant. The streets were buzzing with the usual evening energy, the soft hum of cars, and the chatter of people filling the air. Jihyo reached for Diabolos’ hand instinctively, lacing her fingers through his. His hand, though much larger and rougher than hers, fit perfectly, the warmth between them so natural.

As they walked, the conversation flowed easily.

“Do you think Chewy will rechallenge the chef tonight?” Jihyo asked with a laugh, thinking back to their last dinner where Tzuyu had, with her signature deadpan expression, offered her own cooking suggestions to the head chef.

Diabolos chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s got that quiet confidence. It’s like she knows she’s the best at whatever she sets her mind to.”

Jihyo giggled, nodding. “You’re right. But Dahyun’s going to egg her on, for sure. You know how she is—always stirring up trouble just to see Chewy get flustered.”

Voljune interjected, her tone light and amused. “Dahyun’s mischief is delightful. I think she secretly loves how riled up she can make Tzuyu. They’re such a fun pair to watch.”

Jihyo agreed, smiling as she squeezed Diabolos’ hand a little tighter. “I’m so glad we get to see them tonight. It feels like it’s been forever.”

Diabolos glanced down at her, his eyes full of warmth. “Yeah, it’s been too long. I’ve missed hanging out with them too.” He paused for a moment, then added softly, “I like how they make you laugh. You always seem so light and carefree around them.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled at his words. “They do, don’t they? I think it’s because we’ve all been through so much together. They know me better than almost anyone else.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “They ground you, in a way. It’s good for both of us—being around them. And it’s good for Diabolos, too. They bring out this pure joy in him, something that we both cherish.”

As they walked, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, reminiscing about past moments with the members, and laughing at shared memories. Jihyo and Voljune, internally, marveled at how Diabolos was so effortlessly in sync with them, how his softer side blended perfectly with Jihyo’s energy. Even as they joked and teased, there was an unspoken flirty dialogue weaving between the three of them—a shared connection that needed no words.

Diabolos caught her looking at him and raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Yo-yo?”

Jihyo just smiled, shaking her head slightly. “Nothing. Just... happy.”

He grinned, squeezing her hand. “Me too.”

They continued walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the cool evening air and each other’s company. As they neared the restaurant, the neon sign glowing in the distance, Jihyo felt a deep sense of peace wash over her. She had her members, her friends, and this man—this man who had become her everything.

Voljune’s presence buzzed warmly within her, echoing her thoughts. “We’re in a good place. I like where we are, Yo-yo.”

Jihyo smiled internally, feeling Voljune’s contentment mix with her own. “Yeah, we really are.”

As the group talks Jihyo begins to feel lightheaded as her hormones start striking again. She looks to Dio and says, “Hey babe I need to go the restroom can you help me,” every people pleaser he follows when Jihyo locks him in and forcefully grabs his cock he understands. Jihyo and Voljune are barely coherent enough to have his dick go in the right hole as Jihyo bends over the sink

“We have to be quick!” Dio asserts

Jihyo nods at her lust-addled brain. Dio quickly rams into her tight hole. Jihyo can only whimper as he takes her. Enraptured by her body he secures a tit and massages it spiking both their pleasure.

At this rate, Jihyo and Voljune don't last long before they cum again. Dio exits her and cleans them up a bit when Jihyo’s mind returns.

Her gaze is possessive as she says, “I'm going to need more from you when we get back home.” Dio smiles as they head back out. The rest of their little date is pretty brief after that. After the date, Jihyo Voljune and Dio were exhausted and instead of counting their fun they got a good night's sleep and hoped to release some more tension tomorrow

It was a rare lazy morning at Jihyo and Diabolos’ small, cozy apartment. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the living room. Diabolos was sprawled out on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through channels while Jihyo leaned against him, scrolling through her phone. Their bodies fit perfectly together as if they were always meant to be in this peaceful bubble.

*“I wish we could stay like this all day,”* Voljune whispered in Jihyo’s mind, the warmth of contentment wrapping around them both. *“No interruptions. Just us.”*

Jihyo couldn’t agree more. After the whirlwind of their dinner last night, she was hoping today could be quiet—a much-needed day of rest with just Diabolos. She smiled as she watched Dio drift in and out of sleep next to her.

But then, the doorbell rang.

Jihyo groaned softly, knowing full well who it could be. Only one person rang the doorbell with such enthusiasm. Voljune sighed in unison with her, a ripple of frustration passing between them. Diabolos glanced down at Jihyo, sensing the shift in energy.

“Who could that be?” he asked, sitting up.

Jihyo gave him a knowing look. “Take a wild guess.”

The doorbell rang again, followed by a series of playful knocks. Diabolos chuckled as he stood, pulling Jihyo up with him. “Let me guess—Nayeon?”

“Yup,” Jihyo replied with an exasperated smile, but there was affection behind it. *“She always knows when to show up at the worst possible time.”*

Voljune huffed in agreement. *“We were supposed to have the day to ourselves.”*

As Jihyo opened the door, she was greeted by a beaming Nayeon and her equally cheerful boyfriend, Mark. Nayeon wasted no time, pushing past Jihyo into the apartment.

“Hey, Jihyo-yah!” Nayeon exclaimed, her voice full of energy. “Mark and I were in the neighborhood, and we thought, why not drop by?” She grinned mischievously. “You weren’t busy, were you?”

Mark offered a sheepish smile from behind her, clearly used to Nayeon’s spontaneous visits. “Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance. “Well, actually—”

Diabolos, ever the gentle giant, stepped forward and offered a warm smile to the pair. “It’s fine, really. Come on in.”

Jihyo shot him a look that said *Really?* but her irritation quickly faded. Nayeon was already making herself at home, tossing her bag onto the chair and plopping down on the couch next to Diabolos. Mark followed suit, though with a bit more hesitation, clearly aware of the unspoken tension in the room.

Voljune chimed in again, a hint of amusement creeping into her tone. *“You know what? It’s fine. Let’s just let it go. Nayeon brings a certain... chaotic joy, doesn’t she?”*

Jihyo sighed but smiled inwardly. *“Yeah, I guess she does.”* She couldn’t stay mad at Nayeon for long, and besides, her best friend’s presence was infectious. As much as she craved peace, she also loved how Nayeon always brought life and laughter wherever she went.

“So, what are we doing today?” Nayeon asked, completely oblivious to the plans Jihyo and Diabolos may have had. “We should totally have a movie marathon! Or maybe play some games!”

Diabolos chuckled, clearly entertained by Nayeon’s boundless energy. “A movie marathon sounds good to me.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes playfully, giving in to the inevitable. “Alright, fine. But *I* get to pick the first movie.”

Nayeon gasped dramatically. “Jihyo picking the movie? That’s a dangerous game, Dio. She’ll have us watching tearjerkers all day.”

Jihyo swatted at Nayeon’s arm, laughing. “You act like my taste is that bad.”

Mark, always the calm voice of reason, chimed in. “I don’t know, Nayeon. I think Jihyo has pretty good taste. What about a compromise—something everyone can enjoy?”

As they bantered back and forth, Jihyo’s initial frustration melted away, replaced by a warm sense of belonging. This was her family, her people. Nayeon’s chaotic energy, Mark’s calming influence, and Diabolos’ quiet presence all balanced each other out in the best way possible.

*“See?”* Voljune murmured, her earlier frustration now completely gone. *“This is why we love them. It’s never quiet, but it’s always fun.”*

Before Jihyo could respond, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced down at the screen and groaned inwardly.

“Speak of the devil,” she muttered as she saw the group chat light up with notifications from the rest of the members. Dahyun, Mina, Chaeyoung, Sana, and Jeongyeon were all chiming in, asking if they could come over too.

“Oh no,” Jihyo said, eyes widening as she realized what was happening. “Nayeon, did you tell everyone we were hanging out?”

Nayeon shrugged nonchalantly. “I might’ve mentioned it in the group chat...”

Jihyo facepalmed, but she couldn’t help but laugh. *“Well, there goes our quiet day.”*

Diabolos laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Jihyo’s shoulders and pulling her close. “It’s alright. The more, the merrier, right?”

Jihyo leaned into him, smiling despite herself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Within the next hour, the apartment was buzzing with energy. Dahyun showed up with DJ and Tzuyu in tow, carrying bags of snacks and drinks. Jeongyeon arrived with a mischievous grin, already scheming some sort of prank with Dahyun. Sana arrived latched to Broly’s hip with her trademark bubbly personality and champagne. Momo brought Daizohan. Chaeyoung and Mina were the last to arrive, holding hands and giggling like they were in on a secret as their boyfriends followed behind with quiet appreciative smiles.

As the apartment filled with laughter, conversation, and the smells of takeout, Jihyo looked around at her members, their partners, and Diabolos beside her, her heart swelling with warmth.

*“It’s chaotic,”* Voljune said softly, her tone full of affection. *“But it’s our chaos.”*

Jihyo nodded internally. *“Yeah. It really is.”*

Diabolos wrapped his arm around Jihyo to ground himself.

“Is someone anxious?” Jihyo asked as she looked up at her boyfriend.

Diabolos smiled as he looked down at her before kissing her forehead, “not anymore,”

Despite the unexpected visit and the way the day had spiraled into a full-on party, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life she had built with Diabolos, her members, and her extended family. They were loud, spontaneous, and a little over the top, but she wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.

Diabolos caught her eye, giving her a soft, knowing smile. Without words, they shared a moment of quiet understanding amid the noise and laughter.

It was perfect, just the way it was.

As the evening wore on, the apartment buzzed with conversations in different corners, and everyone relaxed and enjoyed the impromptu gathering. Jihyo found herself sitting on the couch with Mina, Diabolos, and Mina’s boyfriend, Richter, a soft-spoken but kind-hearted man who had a natural talent for blending into the group despite being relatively new to their circle.

The four of them were speaking English, a comfortable language for Mina and Richter, and something Diabolos seemed to switch into effortlessly. Jihyo was doing her best to keep up, her English was solid but slower as she worked through her sentences. Diabolos, on the other hand, spoke it fluently, though there was a noticeable difference in the way he sounded compared to Richter.

Mina tilted her head, her curiosity piqued by the way Diabolos' voice carried through the conversation. “Dio, your English... it sounds so different. It’s not like the Americans I know.”

Richter nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I noticed that too. Most Americans have a more nasal, higher tone, but you… yours is deeper. Almost throaty.”

Diabolos chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in that low, gravelly way. “I guess I’ve always sounded like this. Not much I can do about it.”

Mina squinted playfully at him and then laughed. “You sound like a bear! So gruff and deep. It’s like your voice comes from the earth, not your throat.” she said as she made herself appear bigger as if mimicking a bear.

The joke caught everyone by surprise, and Jihyo laughed along with them, but as Mina’s words sank in, they triggered something deep inside her, something Voljune had been quietly holding back.

Suddenly, the room around her seemed to blur and shift. Jihyo’s heart skipped a beat as a flood of memories—not hers, but Voljune’s—rushed into her mind. She was pulled back into the past, to a moment long before she had ever met Diabolos.

In the memory, Jihyo (or rather, Voljune) was flying through space in a small, dimly lit ship. The atmosphere was tense, thick with uncertainty and dread. Diabolos sat in the co-pilot seat beside her, silent, his face pale and drawn. He hadn’t spoken since the Severing. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, but his eyes were far away, distant. There was an overwhelming heaviness in the air—Voljune could feel it even now through Jihyo’s senses.

She looked over at him, at the man who had survived the impossible, who had endured Narset’s brutal Severing. His face was etched with pain, and yet, he was alive. But something was different, something was lost. His voice, when he spoke, had changed. The man she had once known had been replaced by someone else—someone quieter, sadder.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence.

“Thank you... for saving me.” His voice was rough, deeper than it had been before. It came from somewhere deep within him as if it had been dragged from the depths of his soul. And the pain in his eyes, that raw, untouchable hurt—it cut Voljune to the core.

At that moment, she realized just how much Diabolos had lost. Not just his voice, but a part of himself. He was no longer the same person she had known before. And neither was she.

The memory faded, and Jihyo blinked back to the present, the warmth of the apartment and the laughter of her friends washing over her like a wave. But the echo of that memory lingered in her chest, heavy and heart-wrenching. Unconsciously, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Diabolos, who had been quietly watching her, noticed immediately. His expression softened as he reached over, gently wiping the tear away with his thumb.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered his voice that same deep, gravelly tone that both Jihyo and Voljune had come to love. “It will be okay.”

Jihyo’s heart swelled as she looked into his eyes, and for a moment, the line between past and present blurred. Voljune’s memories, the weight of their shared experiences, and the love they both had for this man—they all converged into one undeniable truth.

*He survived. And he’s still here.*

She smiled up at him, the tear already forgotten as she leaned into his warmth. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know.”

Voljune, too, stirred gently within her, no longer holding onto the pain of that memory, but instead embracing the comfort of the present. The two of them—Jihyo and Voljune—felt a deep sense of peace at that moment. They had each other, they had Diabolos, and they had their friends.

As the conversation around them resumed, the three of them—Jihyo, Voljune, and Diabolos—shared a quiet, unspoken connection, one built on love, resilience, and an understanding that ran far deeper than words.

As the party wore on fatigue and yawns spread through the group like a plague, but Nayeon in her foresight said, “Sleepover!” Jihyo sighed but Dio relented as the rest of the girls quickly all agreed. She went to her car and pulled out all the matching pajamas she had bought. Everyone laughed except Dio as he began to notice cracks in her smile.

As the party began to wind down, laughter and conversation faded into a comfortable lull. Dio, always quietly observant, noticed Nayeon slipping away from the group, her usual sparkle dimmed by something only he seemed to notice. Jihyo, ever in tune with him, followed his gaze. Standing beside her, Mark also noticed, shifting uncomfortably. But Jihyo placed a gentle hand on his arm, smiling warmly.

“Dio’s got this,” she reassured him. “Let’s give them some space.”

Mark glanced at Dio, who was already making his way toward Nayeon with the quiet, steady calm that had become second nature to him. There was a strength in Dio that wasn’t about physical power, though it was easy to mistake it for that at first. It was in the way he carried himself, a quiet presence that made people feel safe like they could lean on him without being judged.

Dio found Nayeon sitting in a quieter corner of the apartment, staring off into space, her shoulders slightly hunched as if weighed down by unseen thoughts. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her, and gently tapped her shoulder.

“Hey, Nay,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth and care. “Is everything alright?”

Nayeon turned, her face breaking into a forced smile, though the tightness around her eyes betrayed her. She was trying so hard to appear fine, to keep up her strong facade, but Dio could see through it.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” she replied, too quickly, her tone guarded. “Why do you ask?”

Dio studied her for a moment, his eyes kind and patient. He wasn’t the type to push people to share what they weren’t ready to, but his mere presence often encouraged others to open up. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to pressure her.

“It’s nothing,” he said softly, with a reassuring smile. “Just checking in.”

Then, without hesitation, he enveloped her in a gentle hug. Nayeon froze for a second, her defenses wavering, before she finally let out a shaky breath. In his arms, she felt his warmth, his steady heartbeat, and the sense that she didn’t have to carry everything on her own. That was what Dio did—he made you feel safe like your burdens were shared, even if only for a moment.

And that’s when Nayeon broke. Her walls came tumbling down, and she clung to him, burying her face in his chest as her tears spilled over.

“I’m so scared, Dio,” she sobbed. “What if… what if Twice isn’t forever? What if ten years is it? What if… we don’t last?”

From her vantage point, Jihyo smiled gently as she watched Dio comfort Nayeon. She had been in that exact position many times herself, seeking solace in Dio’s quiet strength. There was something about him that made her feel seen and understood in a way no one else could quite match. She turned to Mark, who looked like he wanted to rush over and comfort Nayeon himself, but Jihyo shook her head slightly, her eyes twinkling with reassurance.

“He’s got this,” she whispered, and Mark nodded, settling back.

Out on the balcony, away from prying eyes, Dio led Nayeon to a chair and sat beside her, still holding her hand as she sniffled and wiped her tears. The cool night air helped to calm her, but it was Dio’s steady presence that truly soothed her frayed nerves.

“Twice is already forever,” Dio said, his voice calm but certain.

Nayeon looked up at him, confused and still wiping away tears. “What do you mean?”

Dio leaned back, gazing up at the night sky. “The legacy you’ve built—the hearts you’ve all touched—it’s something that goes beyond this moment, beyond this year, or the next. It’s already part of something bigger.”

Nayeon blinked, trying to process his words, but Dio wasn’t just being philosophical. He knew, better than anyone, how far their impact truly reached. There were worlds, literal worlds, far from Earth where Twice’s music had found its way, where “One” gathered and celebrated the group that had become a universal symbol of love and hope.

“As long as there are stars in the sky, there will always be Once. And as long as there’s Once, there will always be Twice,” he continued, his voice low and soothing. “It doesn’t matter what happens to the group—whether you’re on stage together or not. That love, that connection, will last no matter what. You’ve already created something eternal.”

Nayeon’s tears slowed, his words sinking in as a warm sense of comfort filled her. She smiled, a little watery still, but the fear that had gripped her heart began to ease.

“So… you’re saying we’ve already won?” she asked softly, a bit of her usual sass creeping back into her tone.

Dio chuckled, a deep, warm sound. “Yeah, you’ve already won. No matter what comes next.”

Nayeon sniffled again, this time out of relief, and wiped her eyes. “When did you get so soft-hearted?”

Dio shrugged with a playful grin. “I always was.”

Nayeon laughed, a real laugh this time, and the sound filled Dio with quiet satisfaction. Jihyo had told him once that Nayeon needed these moments of reassurance, to feel grounded when her insecurities flared up. And he had learned, from his own pain and struggles, how important it was to remind others of their worth, their impact.

From the balcony, Dio and Nayeon could hear the soft hum of the party continuing inside, but for this moment, it was just the two of them and the silent assurance that everything would be okay.

As they walked back inside, Nayeon shivered in the cool night air. Jihyo’s smile lingered as they rejoined the party, but something stirred within her. The room seemed to shift, subtly at first, as if the air grew thicker, heavier. Then, the sensation deepened, and she felt a pull—Voljune’s presence awakening inside her, memories unfurling like a delicate, intricate web. Her vision blurred slightly, and suddenly, she was no longer in the present.

The scene around her morphed, transporting her into a memory not her own.

---

It was a long time ago, in a strange, desolate place. Voljune's memory opened up fully before Jihyo’s eyes. She saw the room—sterile, cold, and dimly lit. In the center of it stood Diabolos. He was younger then, though not by much, but there was something raw about him, something unrefined. His tall frame looked tense, ready for a fight, but his eyes—his eyes told a different story. Beneath the hardness, Jihyo could see it: a quiet vulnerability, a softness that hadn't yet been buried by the years of torment to come.

Voljune had been wary, uncertain. It was her first time seeing him, sensing him. She could feel the power coursing through his veins, but it was more than that. There was something about the way he carried himself, something that spoke not of violence, but of care. He had been thrown into an impossible situation, and yet, his gaze wasn’t hostile. It was searching.

Their eyes met. He had been expecting another enemy. Instead, Voljune felt the unfamiliar sensation of calm, of warmth. Diabolos, though prepared for battle, didn’t strike. He merely stood there, waiting, observing.

“What are you?” his voice was soft, far softer than it should have been for a man of his size. The tone startled Voljune—gentle, almost questioning. It wasn’t the voice of a hardened warrior, but someone seeking to understand.

Voljune hesitated, unsure how to respond. She hadn’t expected this. She had expected brutality, cold calculation. But instead, she saw in Diabolos a strange, disarming kindness that caught her off guard. He wasn’t the monster she had anticipated.

“I’m here to observe,” Voljune had said, her voice tinged with both curiosity and caution.

“Observe?” Diabolos repeated, tilting his head slightly. There was a softness in his eyes now, a flicker of something almost childlike. “What do you want from me?”

That was the first time Voljune had felt it—his compassion. Even then, even in that strange, cold room, Diabolos had carried with him a heart that sought connection. His strength hadn’t been forged in cruelty or dominance but in a quiet, determined desire to protect.

Jihyo could feel the memory washing over her, flooding her with an understanding she hadn’t grasped before. The Diabolos standing before Voljune back then was the same man she knew now. The quiet protector. The gentle giant. He had always been like this, even when the world had tried to harden him.

And then the memory shifted. Jihyo felt it—Voljune’s rising feelings, the moment she began to realize that Diabolos wasn’t just another force of power to contend with. He was something different, something good. She had been drawn to him then, not because of his strength, but because of his heart.

---

The memory faded slowly, and Jihyo found herself back in the present, standing in the middle of the apartment as the party hummed softly around her. She blinked, trying to shake off the vividness of the past. It had been so real, so tangible.

Voljune stirred inside her, an odd sense of apology coming through.

“I’m sorry,” Voljune said quietly, her voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t mean to subject you to all of that. My memories... they can be overwhelming.”

Jihyo smiled softly, brushing it off as if it were nothing. “It’s okay. It helps me know our boyfriend better,” she replied, her tone full of warmth and affection. There was no resentment in her voice, no frustration. Only a deep understanding of who Diabolos truly was, both in the past and now.

Before she could say more, she felt a familiar warmth behind her. Dio had approached quietly, his arms wrapping gently around her waist as he pulled her close. His presence was grounding, his embrace filled with the same tenderness she had seen in that memory.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered softly in her ear, sensing the lingering emotions. “It’ll be okay.”

Jihyo leaned back into him, feeling his strength, but more importantly, feeling his love. They stood there for a moment, enveloped in each other’s warmth, connected not only by the present but by the shared understanding of who they had always been to one another. Eventually, the warmth flooded Jihyo’s core and she turned to Dio. “You my bedroom now,” she whispered.

- - -

Diabolos stood stone-faced as his mind fogged over, the world around him blurring into a distant hum. He could feel it creeping in—the familiar dissonance, the numbness that had plagued him ever since the Severing. A small part of him, the part that Narset had ripped away, left a scar deeper than the physical wound. Sometimes, it felt like a piece of him was still wandering, aimless, and disembodied, an echo of Ruhan’s presence within him. He shuddered.

It wasn’t just a memory, though. There were moments—fleeting, but unbearable—where he could still feel Ruhan beneath the surface, like a parasite never fully exorcised. A phantom, mocking and ever-present, digging into the darkest corners of his mind. He hated it, hated that there was a part of him that could never truly belong to him again. No matter how hard he tried, there was always something lingering, denigrating his thoughts, whispering things he’d rather forget.

Diabolos sighed, trying to shake the weight off his chest, but it clung to him. Then there was a knock. It startled him out of his trance, and he turned around, his brow furrowing as he crossed the room.

When he opened the door, Jiwoo stood there, her expression unreadable. "Hi, Dio," she said softly, “I needed to drop something off.”

Dio blinked, still disoriented from the fog in his mind. “Okay... what is it?”

Without warning, Jiwoo leaned in and kissed him. The suddenness of it jolted Dio, but before he could push her away, a sensation he dreaded washed over him—Ruhan.

For a split second, it was as though something foreign slipped through the kiss, like an invisible thread snaking its way into his body, reigniting the bond he thought he’d broken. His revulsion turned to horror, and his stomach churned as his body reacted, his muscles tensing. He clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles whitened. A cold sweat broke out across his skin as he felt the ghost of Ruhan inside him, like a twisted form of possession.

Jiwoo stepped back, confused by his sudden change. “Dio, are you okay?”

He doubled over, struggling to suppress the invasion. His breath came in ragged gasps, and though Jiwoo reached out to help him, he waved her off. “Thanks, Ji. I’m fine. Just... have a good day.”

His voice was strained, but calm enough to keep her from asking questions. She lingered for a moment, her brow furrowed, but then she nodded and left, glancing back over her shoulder with uncertainty.

As soon as she was gone, Dio moved with purpose, heading straight to the mirror in his room. The moment his eyes met his reflection, he saw it.

Ruhan.

There, staring back at him, a twisted version of himself in the glass. Ruhan’s presence wasn’t fully corporeal, but it was unmistakable—his mocking smirk, his cold, calculating gaze. The parasitic twin who’d always reveled in his chaos.

"Hello, Dio," Ruhan greeted, his voice echoing through Dio’s mind as though it came from within the mirror itself. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was a darkness to it that Dio couldn’t ignore.

Dio’s eyes narrowed. His reflection glared back at him, the intensity in his gaze betraying the flood of emotions churning beneath the surface. "I should expel you right here, right now," he said coldly, the anger barely masked.

Ruhan’s smirk grew wider, and he raised his hands in mock surrender. "Please," he drawled, "you act like this is pleasant for me. You think I wanted to be back inside you? Trust me, Dio, if I had other options, I’d take them. But I need your help."

Dio’s jaw clenched, and his knuckles pressed against the edge of the mirror, the glass cool beneath his fingertips. "Why should I help you? After everything you’ve done—everything you took from me. You think I’ve forgotten?"

Ruhan's smile faltered, his expression hardening for just a moment before he composed himself. "I’m not asking you to forget," he said evenly, "I’m asking you to survive."

Dio’s body tensed, and for a long moment, there was nothing but silence between them. "Survive?" he repeated, incredulity lacing his words. "I’ve done that just fine without you."

"Have you?" Ruhan raised a brow, the weight of his presence pressing down on Dio like a heavy fog. "Tell me, how often do you wake up, the fog clouding your thoughts? How often do you feel the emptiness, the part of yourself that was stolen away?"

Dio’s glare sharpened, but Ruhan’s words had struck a nerve. He hated it, hated the truth in them. He could never be whole again, not without the part that had been severed. He could deny it all he wanted, but some nights, the absence was unbearable.

"You don’t need me," Ruhan continued, "but I need you. Orochi has returned."

Dio froze. The name hung in the air like a death sentence.

"Why should I care?" Dio finally asked, though his tone had shifted. His anger was still there, but the uncertainty was creeping in. "After everything, why should I help you—especially you?"

"Because," Ruhan said, his smirk gone now, replaced by something darker, more serious, "Orochi’s return doesn’t just mean trouble for me. It means trouble for you. For Jihyo. For every one you care about."

Dio's hands clenched against the mirror, the glass threatening to crack under the pressure. He wanted to reject it, to reject everything about Ruhan’s presence, but deep down, he knew the truth. This wasn’t just about Ruhan. It was about the bigger picture, the looming threat that had reared its head once again.

"And don’t worry," Ruhan added, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "I have no intention of severing you. I need your continued existence... for now."

Dio hesitated, his mind racing. He hated this. He hated the idea of working with the very thing that had destroyed him. But he knew better than to ignore the warnings.

"Fine," Dio said through gritted teeth, his fists unclenching as he let out a slow, controlled breath. "But after this... after Orochi, you leave. And you never come back."

Ruhan’s reflection gave a slow nod, though Dio could sense the amusement underneath. "As you wish," he said, though his smile didn’t fade.

Duo turned away from the mirror, the weight of what had just transpired settling heavily in his chest. The phantom presence of Ruhan still lingered, curling like smoke beneath his skin, making his body feel alien. The room seemed to tilt as his mind fogged over again. There was a plan—a necessary evil—but it still sickened him.

Steeling himself, Dio walked outside just as Jihyo arrived back at their apartment. She was still wearing her radiant smile, her energy as bright as the sun, but the moment her eyes met his, that joy evaporated. A strange, unsettling tension filled the air.

Voljune surged within her, alert and bristling.

"You," Jihyo hissed in unison with Voljune, their voices layering over each other with venom.

Dio—no, Ruhan—smirked in response, tilting his head slightly. "Ah, sister..." His voice was Dio’s, but it was off as if something deep within had shifted and was no longer aligned. There was a dissonance in his tone, a foreign rhythm. "Please forgive me, but I need to borrow Dio for the time being."

Jihyo flinched at the sound of his words, the way Ruhan twisted Dio's familiar voice into something uncanny. It was like hearing a favorite song distorted, played backward with the melody shattered. Her eyes narrowed as she felt Voljune stir inside her, recognizing the presence of her twin.

Ruhan.

It was impossible to ignore. Dio's usually calm and collected demeanor had been warped, replaced by something darker, more assertive. Even his posture had changed—the easy confidence that Jihyo loved was now edged with an eerie control. She could feel Dio fighting beneath the surface, locked somewhere deep inside himself.

Within Dio's mind, he remained silent, holding firm. Ruhan had pried into his body, but Dio was prepared. He guarded his most vital memories, locking them behind mental barriers. He had learned how Ruhan operated during their previous encounters, and he wouldn't allow the parasite to fully take over again. Still, Dio felt the pull, the struggle to maintain himself as Ruhan exerted more control over his body.

"I know what you're planning, Ruhan," Dio's voice echoed internally. "But I won’t let you sever me again."

Ruhan, nestled inside him, chuckled softly. "Such mistrust... I told you, Dio, I need you alive. Severing you again would be counterproductive to my goals. Besides, Narset—she would never forgive me."

Dio’s heart clenched at the mention of Narset. His mind flickered back to her, and he couldn't help but ask, "What did you do to Narset?"

Ruhan’s laughter died down, his tone shifting to something softer—almost regretful. "She is safe, locked away in a cell where she can't cause any more damage. But she misses you, Dio. She regrets involving you in this mess. She’s sorry for everything."

The remorse in Ruhan's voice was genuine, but Dio didn't trust it. Not entirely. Yet the mention of Narset stirred something in him—a longing he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for so long. He couldn't help but picture her, locked away, her sorrow weighing heavily on her. Still, he couldn't let Ruhan manipulate him.

Meanwhile, Jihyo watched as Dio’s expression flickered with tension. Her instincts screamed at her—Voljune’s energy inside her bristled with fury, ready to confront her twin, but Jihyo held back. She had to tread carefully.

"Dio," she said softly, her voice cutting through the space between them, hoping to reach him. "I know you're still in there."

Ruhan's smirk faltered slightly, but he maintained his control, tilting his head as if amused. "Dio is here, sister, but he is not in control at the moment."

Voljune seethed within her. "Ruhan, I swear, if you hurt him—"

Ruhan's voice came out with a mocking edge. "Hurt him? Why would I? He is valuable to me. I am only borrowing what I need, for the time being."

Jihyo’s heart pounded. She could feel Voljune’s fury building, but she kept her gaze steady, refusing to let Ruhan see any fear. "You don't get to take him, Ruhan. We won’t let you."

Ruhan’s eyes gleamed with something darker. "You act like you have a choice, sister."

Inside, Dio’s thoughts churned, but he remained silent, calculating. He knew Ruhan's power well enough by now and knew what it took to survive against him. But he couldn’t deny the strange truth beneath the surface—Ruhan needed him. There was a twisted logic there, and Dio had to play along, at least for now.

Jihyo took a deep breath, steadying herself as Voljune rallied inside her. Her connection with Dio, though strained by Ruhan's presence, still pulsed with life. And as she held onto that, she refused to let go.

"We'll get you back," Jihyo whispered, more to Dio than to Ruhan, her voice resolute.

Ruhan, still possessing Dio’s body, simply chuckled. "We'll see, sister. We shall see."

As the tension thickened between them, Jihyo felt Voljune’s resolve growing stronger inside her. No matter what it took, she and Dio would face this together—even if it meant confronting the darkest parts of themselves.

Dio—no, Ruhan—stood in front of Jihyo with a smirk that was both foreign and unsettling. The familiar warmth and softness she always saw in Dio’s eyes were buried beneath a cold, mocking glint that belonged only to Ruhan. Jihyo’s heart pounded in her chest, Voljune simmering beneath her skin with rage.

"You," Jihyo hissed in unison with Voljune, their voices layered with venom, their connection flaring as one.

Ruhan's lips curled into an amused smile. "Ah, sister... Voljune, how you’ve matured. But still so predictable. And you, Jihyo—Dio’s precious little companion. How quaint. But you must know, I’m only borrowing him for a while."

Jihyo's hand clenched at her side, her gaze sharp, but her emotions were a storm beneath the surface. She had learned, thanks to Dio, how to control that storm—to stay calm when faced with something as manipulative as Ruhan. But it wasn’t easy. She could feel Dio trapped somewhere deep inside, struggling, his presence flickering like a distant candle in a storm.

Ruhan took a step closer, tilting his head with a bemused expression. "I’ve always wondered... What do you see in him? Dio, I mean. What draws you to such a... subpar vessel?"

Jihyo’s brow furrowed, a flare of anger igniting in her chest. Voljune, ever in sync with her, pulsed within her consciousness, pushing against the boundaries of her control. Jihyo could feel the heat of her twin's rage, the ancient fury simmering just beneath her skin.

"You’re wrong about him," Jihyo said through clenched teeth. "Dio is more than you could ever understand."

Ruhan chuckled, the sound cold and dismissive. "More? Perhaps. But from where I stand, he is little more than a broken tool—a shattered relic of what he once was." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Still, you’ve attached yourself to him, haven’t you, sister? Why?"

Jihyo held her ground, her eyes fierce as she met his gaze. "Because he’s more than just a vessel. He’s a person, Ruhan. He has a heart, a soul, things you can’t comprehend."

Ruhan narrowed his eyes, his smirk fading into something more calculating. "A heart, a soul..." His voice trailed off, almost bored. "How sentimental. I suppose that’s why you two are so... compatible." He gestured toward Jihyo and Voljune with a flick of Dio's hand. "Your bond is fascinating. Almost perfect synchronization. It’s admirable, truly. If only your dear Diabolos had that same potential."

Jihyo felt a ripple of indignation, her blood boiling as Voljune surged within her. She could feel her twin’s ancient power coiling and ready, her rage almost spilling over.

"We’re not perfect," Jihyo said, her voice calm but edged with steel. "But we don’t need to be. What we have is enough."

Ruhan’s eyes glinted with mock interest as he looked at her, his smirk returning. "Enough, you say? Hmm." He tilted his head as if considering her words. "What I see, sister, is wasted potential. You and Voljune are almost perfectly in sync—an extraordinary bond, truly. I can’t help but wonder... why lower yourself to Diabolos’s level?"

Jihyo flinched, feeling the sting of his words, but she stood firm. "You wouldn’t understand. It’s not about power, or strength, or even perfection. Dio and I... we complement each other. We make each other better, and stronger. You think he’s broken, but I see someone who’s survived the impossible. Someone who’s still kind, still loving, despite everything."

Ruhan let out a low laugh, his voice a dark hum of amusement. "Oh, sister, your sentimentality is charming, I’ll give you that. But you’re wrong if you think Diabolos is anything more than a tool. He’s a means to an end. He always has been."

Jihyo’s heart ached at Ruhan's dismissive tone. She could feel Dio’s presence, small but resilient, fighting beneath the surface. Voljune, too, bristled with anger, her twin’s energy surging through her like an electric current.

"Voljune," Ruhan said, his tone now more focused on his twin. "You’re stronger now. I can feel it. But you still tether yourself to this... human." He spat the last word with disdain. "Why?"

Voljune surged forward, pushing against the edges of Jihyo's consciousness as if she were about to burst free. "Because Dio is ours," Voljune growled through Jihyo's voice, their bond radiating through every word. "He’s not a vessel for you to control. He’s more than you could ever be, Ruhan. He’s better than you."

Ruhan's eyes darkened, his smirk fading into something far more sinister. "Better than me? Oh, sister... you really are delusional. But I’ll let you cling to your fantasies, for now. I have no intention of severing Dio—at least, not yet. There are... greater things at play."

Jihyo’s breath hitched, her mind swirling as she tried to keep her focus. But Voljune’s words rang true inside her—Dio was theirs, and she wouldn’t let Ruhan take him away.

"You think you can control everything, Ruhan," Jihyo said, her voice soft but filled with determination. "But you can’t. Dio’s not going to be your puppet. He’s stronger than you think."

Ruhan looked at her with a sneer, but his amusement lingered. "We shall see, sister. We shall see."

And with that, Jihyo felt Dio's presence flicker, as if fighting its way back to the surface. The shift in control was subtle, but she could sense it. Dio was still there, and he wasn't giving up.

As if sensing Jihyo’s unwavering resolve, Ruhan’s voice faded, leaving her with a parting thought. "Just remember, Jihyo. As synchronized as you and Voljune may be, Dio will always be one step behind. He’s never going to be what you need him to be."

Jihyo shook her head, feeling the warmth of Dio’s presence growing stronger beneath Ruhan’s shadow. "You don’t know him like I do."

A moment of silence followed, and then, as if in response, Dio’s familiar warmth returned—faint but present. The soft, gentle presence that Jihyo had come to love.

Suddenly, she felt Dio’s arms wrap around her from behind, his embrace firm and comforting. "Don’t listen to him," Dio whispered softly into her ear. "We’ve got this."

Jihyo relaxed into his touch, Voljune settling inside her. Ruhan’s words still echoed in her mind, but with Dio’s warmth enveloping her, she knew they could face whatever was coming—together.

Ruhan stretched, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the sensation of being in control of Dio’s body once again. It was almost amusing—how he could manipulate the physical form of his “vessel,” a body that had once been so imposing and powerful. But now, something simpler tugged at him, a small indulgence Dio had held onto. The refrigerator hummed softly in the quiet of the apartment as Ruhan pulled open the door, revealing Dio’s stash of treats.

Voljune stirred inside Jihyo, her presence shifting slightly as they both observed from the edges of Rohan’s awareness. They could feel it—the change in energy, the way Dio’s body seemed to react to Ruhan in ways only they could see.

“He’s indulging,” Voljune noted with a hint of surprise in her voice. “Not in power or conquest—but in something so... mundane.”

Jihyo watched with narrowed eyes as Ruhan plucked a milkshake from the fridge and studied it with mild curiosity. She had seen Dio savor these moments before—these small, personal joys that grounded him in ways Ruhan would never understand. As Ruhan took a slow, almost hesitant sip, Jihyo felt a ripple of Dio’s presence beneath the surface, faint but still there.

Voljune hummed thoughtfully. “He is more in touch with Diabolos than he realizes,” she observed. “Even now, he feels the connection to the vessel. He may not admit it, but Dio’s essence... still lingers.”

Jihyo’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Dio would appreciate the irony,” she murmured. “Ruhan, this cold and calculating being, indulging in something as simple as a milkshake.”

Ruhan, oblivious to their presence, sighed as he took another sip, his body visibly relaxing. There was something almost humorous about watching this ancient, powerful entity indulging in mortal pleasures. Voljune and Jihyo could feel the faint echoes of satisfaction that trickled through Dio’s consciousness—a simple joy in the taste, the texture, the momentary comfort.

“What does he get out of this?” Jihyo wondered aloud, her eyes focused on Rohan’s every movement.

Voljune’s voice grew softer, more contemplative. “Perhaps he misses it,” she mused. “The experience of life. Even the small things. After all, what use is power if you can’t enjoy the sensations of the world?”

Ruhan’s focus shifted to a bag of burgers sitting on the counter. He unwrapped one with an almost theatrical gesture, biting into it with a low groan of satisfaction. Jihyo watched, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement, as Ruhan seemed to savor the taste more than she expected.

“He’s starting to appreciate it,” Voljune observed. “Even if he won’t admit it.”

Jihyo’s mind wandered to Dio—how he would smile so brightly whenever they would grab a quick burger or share a sweet treat. The contrast between Ruhan’s mechanical indulgence and Dio’s simple joy couldn’t be starker, but for a fleeting moment, Jihyo saw something else in Ruhan—a faint echo of what had been taken from him.

“He doesn’t understand it,” Jihyo whispered. “But he’s feeling it.”

Voljune’s voice deepened. “Ruhan is experiencing a part of Dio’s essence that he would never admit to craving. The sensations. The pleasures. The simplicity of being human.”

Ruhan finished the burger with a contented sigh, tossing the wrapper into the trash. He leaned back against the counter, letting the moment settle over him like a blanket of warmth. His eyes glinted as he gazed out at the balcony, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“For all his power,” Voljune mused, “Ruhan envies this—the mortal pleasures, the joy of living in the present. He envies Diabolos.”

Jihyo blinked, surprised at the thought. “Envy?”

Voljune’s presence swirled inside her. “Yes. For all Ruhan’s power and domination, he lacks the ability to truly enjoy the world. Diabolos can. That’s why he clings to these indulgences.”

Jihyo crossed her arms, watching as Ruhan ran a hand through Dio’s hair. The casual gesture, the ease with which he moved—there was something almost human about it. But the unsettling truth remained: it wasn’t Dio. Not fully.

“You mortals and your food,” Ruhan muttered to himself. “This is the only thing I might actually miss.”

Jihyo’s jaw tightened. Even now, Ruhan couldn’t fully admit it—couldn’t admit that he was starting to understand, even in the smallest ways, why Dio found joy in these moments. But there was something undeniable about the way Dio’s body reacted to it—the way it softened, relaxed, and surrendered to the sensations.

Ruhan turned toward the balcony, his gaze shifting to the sky. “Enjoy the quiet while it lasts,” he said, speaking to Dio as though the man was still present. “Once this is done, you can have your body back. But until then... you’re mine.”

Voljune’s presence stirred within Jihyo, her thoughts intertwined with her host’s. “What does he think he’s gaining from all this?” Voljune asked quietly.

Jihyo tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she studied Rohan’s every move. “He’s trying to understand it,” she murmured. “Even if he doesn’t realize it, he’s trying to connect with what makes Dio who he is.”

Voljune’s voice softened with a quiet understanding. “And he never will,” she whispered. “Because he can’t see what we see.”

Jihyo’s heart ached with the truth of those words. Ruhan might indulge in Dio’s pleasures, but he would never grasp the depth of Dio’s heart—the way he cared for those around him, the way he found joy in the smallest things. That was something Ruhan could never take.

As Ruhan stood there, gazing out at the city lights, Jihyo and Voljune exchanged a glance. They knew Dio was still there, locked away but present, waiting for the moment to reclaim what was his.

Voljune’s voice was barely a whisper now. “He doesn’t understand the strength that comes from living through the heart.”

Jihyo nodded. “No. And he never will.”

And with that, they watched, knowing that, no matter how long Ruhan stayed in control, Dio’s essence would remain—quiet but unbroken, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

Dio’s mind flickered back to a time when his life had been a haze, trapped between pain and recovery, long before he’d set foot back on Earth. He remembered the distant planet—far on the edge of the universe, a place unlike anything he had encountered before or since.

It had been barren at first glance, a rocky wasteland stretching out toward the horizon with nothing but dust and jagged mountains. But beneath the surface, in hidden sanctuaries carved into the mountains themselves, lived a race of beings unlike any other. These creatures stood eight feet tall, their skin a muted gray, a perfect blend of earth and stone. Their bodies radiated strength, and their eyes glowed faintly with the energy of untapped power. Yet, there was no violence in them, no hunger for conquest or destruction, which caught Dio off guard.

The moment he crashed on their planet, broken and fragmented after being severed, he expected to be greeted by warriors—beings who might challenge his will or force him to fight for his survival. But instead, these giants, their voices deep and resonant, moved with an unexpected gentleness. Their hands, rough from battle and labor, tended to his wounds. They carried him to one of their great sanctuaries, a structure hewn from the mountains, where the hum of ancient power vibrated through the air. The energy was palpable, yet somehow, it was contained, controlled, and peaceful.

They called themselves the Ky’Rans, and despite their imposing stature and strength, they lived lives of quiet isolation, far from the reaches of ruin and conquest. The more time Diabolos spent with them, the more they revealed their history—stories of a people who had once been conquerors, feared across the galaxy for their might. But after centuries of war, something changed in them. They turned their backs on the destruction they had wrought, and instead of ruling through power, they chose peace.

Their culture revolved around balance and restraint. They no longer saw strength purely in the ability to conquer but in the preservation of what was precious. They believed that peace, true peace, required more strength than any battle. Their teachings baffled Diabolos at first, their ways alien to everything he had known.

During his stay, they showed him how they preserved their world—both physically and spiritually. They honed their bodies through labor, not combat, maintaining harmony with their environment rather than seeking to dominate it. Dio, as broken as he had been, found it hard to argue with the results. Their world thrived with lush, untouched forests hidden between the harsh rockscapes. Their people lived long, content lives, untouched by the brutal cycle of revenge and violence.

"You are strong," one of the elders had told him one day as they walked along the cliffs overlooking the vast landscape. "But strength is not just in what you can break. It is in what you choose to protect."

Diabolos had stared out at the expanse, pondering those words. It was an idea foreign to him—he had always believed strength was defined by overcoming challenges, by fighting back, by taking power into his hands. But here, the Ky’Rans thrived without that hunger, without needing to exert their dominance.

"Revenge," the elder had continued, "is like a treadmill—you run and run, but never get anywhere. The faster you chase it, the more you realize how empty it is."

Diabolos knew, deep down, that there was truth in those words. The Ky’Rans had helped him heal, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. In their quiet sanctuaries, he had found peace for the first time in his life. It wasn’t the same kind of peace he had been taught to seek—the peace after victory, after battle, after silencing one’s enemies—but a peace that came from within.

And yet, as much as he respected their ways, Diabolos couldn't fully embrace their ideology. He understood their philosophy, but peace, to him, wasn’t the ultimate goal. He knew he couldn’t walk their path, as noble as it was. He still felt the pull of something more—a need to confront his past, to face the battles waiting for him on Earth.

His time with them had given him clarity and strength, but it also showed him that his journey wasn’t done. There were still forces at play—forces that would come for him and those he cared about, no matter how much peace he sought. The Ky’Rans might have conquered their inner demons, but Diabolos had a different fate awaiting him.

And so, one day, he left.

As he stepped aboard a ship they had helped him repair, he looked back at the towering figures that had nurtured him back to health. Their expressions were solemn but understanding. They knew he wouldn’t stay.

"Strength," the elder had said in parting, "is in knowing when to fight and when to walk away."

Diabolos nodded, but he had no words to offer. He couldn’t explain it—not then, at least—but he knew his battles were far from over.

Returning to Earth felt like waking from a long dream. He had been restored and renewed by his time with the Ky’Rans, but he didn’t feel at peace. That wasn’t his path. Peace, for him, was something that had to be earned—not by walking away, but by facing the storms that came his way.

Back in the present, Diabolos blinked as his memories faded, his mind drifting back to his body. he got up showered and got ready for his upcoming battle. As he did Jihyo and Voljune watched him intently.

“Do you think he ever regrets leaving them?” Voljune's voice echoed softly inside Jihyo as they watched Dio from a distance.

Jihyo's brow furrowed as she studied him, seeing the weight of his memories flickering in his eyes. “No,” she whispered. “He couldn’t stay. His path was always going to be different from theirs. But... I think they gave him something important. Maybe more than he realizes.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “He carries their lessons, even if he disagrees with them. That kind of peace... it’s rare. And I think, in his own way, he’s always searching for it—even now.”

Jihyo sighed softly, her heart swelling with affection for the man she loved. He was strong, but not in the way most would think. His strength lay in his resilience, his ability to survive not just the battles outside, but the battles within.

And, maybe one day, he would find the peace he sought—on his own terms.

As Ruhan took hold of Diabolos's body again, his demeanor shifted. The once gentle and calculating presence of Dio faded, replaced by the arrogant and aggressive stance of Ruhan. His movements were sharp, confident, almost theatrical as he relished the control.

"Ah, good," Ruhan exclaimed, rolling his shoulders, feeling the stretch of muscles he hadn't used in ages. "Now we fight."

He made to leave, but before he could step through the door, Jihyo grabbed him by the arm, her grip firm yet full of concern.

“Can I have Dio back for a moment?” she asked, her voice steady.

Ruhan paused, clearly confused, and tried to suppress Dio further, pushing him down into the recesses of their shared mind. But something strange happened. Dio pushed back—more strongly than he had ever done before. Ruhan frowned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to have full control. Yet, despite his efforts, Dio’s consciousness rose to the surface.

Jihyo saw it too. The subtle shift in body language, the softening of his posture. A familiar warmth returned to Diabolos’s eyes.

“I love you, Yo-yo,” Dio said, his voice now his own. “And I love you, Voljune. I’ll be right back.” He gave her a reassuring smile, one that made her heart ache with worry, but she nodded and let go.

As Diabolos stepped away, his mind became a battlefield between him and Ruhan. Internally, they were locked in a struggle. Dio could feel Ruhan’s frustration brewing beneath the surface as the conqueror tried to maintain dominance, but it was Dio’s body—and he was done letting Ruhan run the show without questions.

Inside Dio’s Mind:

“Why are you doing this?” Dio’s voice echoed through their shared consciousness, reverberating in the space where Ruhan’s presence lingered like a shadow. “What’s the endgame, Ruhan? What do you actually want out of all this?”

Ruhan’s laughter filled the void. It was a low, sinister chuckle. “What do I want?” he repeated mockingly as if the question itself was absurd. “I want what I’ve always wanted. Power. Control. The kind of strength that transcends mortal limits. With Orochi back, and Narset neutralized, I can finally take what’s rightfully mine.”

Dio frowned, not satisfied with the answer. “Power for the sake of power? That’s it? You’ve been doing this for ages, Ruhan. Conquest after conquest. Planets have fallen at your feet. What’s the point? What’s the final goal here? More bodies? More worlds under your heel?”

Ruhan’s presence simmered in annoyance. “You wouldn’t understand, Dio. You’re soft. You’ve spent too much time worrying about ‘feelings’ and ‘relationships.’ Strength is all that matters. Control. The universe rewards the strong and devours the weak.”

“But to what end?” Dio pressed. “You’ve conquered worlds, and built empires, but you’re still here, inside me. If you were truly satisfied, you wouldn’t need to keep taking over my body, my life. What are you running from?”

Silence stretched between them, and for a moment, Dio thought he might have hit a nerve. Ruhan’s energy flickered, less stable than before. There was a pause, then Ruhan’s voice came through again, more subdued, but no less cold.

“I am not running from anything,” Ruhan spat, though there was a sharp edge of defensiveness in his tone. “I do what must be done. Those who are weak deserve their fates. Strength is survival.”

Dio let out a slow breath. “You’ve been saying the same thing for centuries, haven’t you? But deep down, you know it’s not enough. What happens when you’ve conquered everything? When there’s nothing left? Then what?”

Ruhan growled, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t get it, do you? There’s always something more to conquer, Dio. Power doesn’t have an end. It’s a cycle. You take, and then you take again. It’s the only way to survive in a universe that wants to crush you.”

Dio’s mind was calm, and contemplative, even as Rohan’s grew more volatile. “Survive... or thrive?” he asked softly. “There’s a difference, Ruhan. And you’re so focused on survival that you’ve forgotten how to live.”

The statement hung in the air like a challenge, one that Ruhan seemed unwilling to face directly. He deflected, shifting his tone. “And what about you, Dio? You pretend to be above it all, acting like you’re somehow better than me. But let’s not forget—you and I are more alike than you think. You’ve got that same hunger inside you. I can feel it.”

Dio’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. “Maybe. But I’m not afraid to face it. To admit that I want more. But unlike you, I don’t need to destroy everything around me to find it.”

Ruhan scoffed, but his grip on Diabolos’s body loosened slightly. “You’re a fool, Dio. You think peace will save you. That love and bond will make you strong. But when the time comes, and Orochi’s claws are at your throat, you’ll see just how weak those things really are.”

Dio didn’t flinch. “Maybe. But I’ll take that risk.”

In the Real World:

Jihyo and Voljune stood nearby, their shared consciousness attuned to the changes they sensed inside Dio. They exchanged a glance, knowing full well the battle raging inside him but trusting that he would come through.

“Ruhan doesn’t understand, does he?” Jihyo whispered to Voljune. “He only sees strength in conquest. He can’t comprehend what we see in Dio.”

Voljune’s voice resonated softly within her. “Ruhan is blinded by his own fear of weakness. He believes that vulnerability is a flaw. But Dio… he embraces it. That’s why he’s different. That’s why he’s stronger.”

Jihyo nodded, her heart swelling with pride. She watched Diabolos’s body, noting the subtle shifts in his posture. It was Dio again, she could feel it. But Ruhan lingered, a shadow in the background.

“He doesn’t see what we see in Dio,” Jihyo said quietly. “He can only see him as a vessel. A tool. But Dio is so much more than that.”

Voljune hummed in agreement. “That’s why we’ll win. Not because of brute force, but because we fight with our hearts, not just our fists.”

Jihyo smiled softly, her gaze fixed on Diabolos as he took a steadying breath, the internal dialogue with Ruhan still raging in the depths of his mind. She knew Dio would come through—he always did.

And when he did, he would show Ruhan just how wrong he was about what true strength really meant.

As Diabolos and Ruhan soared through the stars, the ship they were on hummed with an uneasy energy. The silence between them was thick with tension, the kind that could break at any moment. Ruhan was in control, steering the vessel toward the planetary ruins Orochi had begun to consume. Yet, despite his command over Diabolos's body, he could feel Dio's presence just beneath the surface—a coiled serpent, ready to strike if Ruhan let his guard down for even a second.

In the dimly lit corners of the ship, Ruhan’s soldiers whispered amongst themselves. Most of them had followed Ruhan through countless conquests, planets scorched, and civilizations reduced to ash. They were battle-hardened warriors, yet now, many felt a fear they hadn’t experienced in years. Diabolos, Ruhan’s most volatile and dangerous host, was back. And though they had seen him in action before, something was different this time. The usual raw chaos and fury that accompanied Diabolos had been replaced by a malignant calm—a terrifying stillness that hinted at something far more dangerous than brute strength.

A group of Ruhan’s lieutenants huddled near the back of the ship, casting uneasy glances at Diabolos. One of them, a seasoned warrior with gray streaks in his hair and a scar running down his cheek, turned to his comrade with wide eyes.

"I forgot how formidable they were together," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the ship.

The other, a captain with sharp, calculating eyes, nodded grimly. “It’s unnerving. It’s like their energies match so perfectly, but they despise each other. It makes no sense.”

The lieutenant glanced over at Diabolos, who stood at the ship’s helm with an eerie stillness, his eyes glowing faintly with the shared power between him and Ruhan. “I know, right? Ruhan’s always been obsessed with Narset, thinking she’s the perfect host, but it's not true. Diabolos—he’s the one. And it’s not even close. If it wasn’t for them working together, Ruhan would never have been able to build this empire.”

The captain’s gaze darkened. “Diabolos is more than just a host. He’s unpredictable. Even Ruhan can’t fully control him, and that’s what makes him dangerous. Narset may have power, but Diabolos… he’s something else. Something Ruhan fears, even if he won’t admit it.”

They both watched as Diabolos—Ruhan—stood, commanding the ship with an unsettling sense of calm. His body was poised, every movement deliberate, but beneath it all, there was a brewing storm, an unspoken tension between the two beings sharing the same vessel. Ruhan’s arrogance may have made him believe he was in control, but anyone who knew Diabolos well understood that he was biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Another soldier, standing a few paces away, joined the whispered conversation. “It’s strange, isn’t it? They’re more powerful together, but it’s like a ticking time bomb. How long before Diabolos breaks free?”

The captain sighed, rubbing his temple. “I don’t know. But I do know that when it happens, we’d better be far away from the blast.”

The planetary ruins loomed ahead, a vast wasteland consumed by Orochi’s relentless hunger. As the ship descended, the soldiers braced themselves, knowing full well that what lay ahead would be a battle like none they had ever fought before. But the real war, the one between Ruhan and Diabolos, was already underway.

As the landscape of desolation spread out beneath them, Diabolos instantly recognized the remnants of a planet he had once annihilated: Hebo, the sapient planet, whose cries for survival had echoed in his mind long after the destruction. Memories surged within him—fragments of lives extinguished, hopes dashed, and a vibrant world turned to ash.

"Surprised?" Ruhan’s voice cut through Diabolos’s reverie, his amusement masking a deeper concern. He could feel Diabolos’s distress radiating through their shared psyche. But silence greeted him, heavy and foreboding, amplifying Ruhan’s unease. Diabolos loved to talk, to connect. His silence now signaled something serious—either a strategic maneuver or an emotional upheaval. It was likely both.

Dio knew he was standing on the precipice of his worst-case scenario. The weight of his past actions pressed down on him, a suffocating shroud. He needed to be smart, to act prudently. Drawing on the energy that coursed through him, he summoned the Imagin Saber, its hilt warm against his palm. The blade shimmered with the potential of their combined power, but at this moment, it felt like a reminder of his burden.

As they landed on the planet's surface aboard a skiff, Ruhan’s curiosity pierced the heavy atmosphere. “How did you survive being severed twice?” he asked, his tone half-mocking, half-serious.

“It’s simple. I wanted to live more than you wanted me to die,” Dio replied, a hint of defiance in his voice. The comment earned a genuine laugh from Ruhan.

“God, sometimes I forget how stubborn you are,” Ruhan chuckled, but the mirth was short-lived.

As they approached the titan Orochi, laughter echoed through the barren landscape, cutting through the tension. “I have been expecting you,” the titan boomed, his form shifting and warping into something that was sure to wound them both: Aerith.

Diabolos felt a surge of fury, his body tensing as he instinctively dropped into a defensive stance. Ruhan faltered a flicker of sentimentality and lost love shadowing his expression.

“I knew this form would garner a reaction. Now let’s end this. I have a universe to consume,” Orochi declared, a predatory glint in his eyes. But before he could finish his sentence, before Ruhan or Orochi could even react, Diabolos surged forward, the Imagin Saber slicing through the titan in one fluid motion.

“Color me surprised,” Ruhan shouted, only for his exhilaration to quickly shift to terror as he felt something pull at him—a violation of the worst kind. In that moment of raw fear, Diabolos ripped Ruhan from his body, casting him aside like a discarded husk.

As Ruhan hit the ground, he felt cold, abandoned, and utterly helpless. Watching Diabolos, he saw a new light in his eyes—something he had never witnessed before. It was power, clarity, and a sense of purpose that made Ruhan crave retribution. He was filled with a need to reconnect, to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his.

“Wait!” Ruhan pleaded, moving toward Dio. “We are meant to be one. You are me, I am you.”

But Dio held him at sword point, the tip of the Imagin Saber glinting in the fractured light of the dying world. “Our deal is done,” he declared, his voice icy.

“B-but?” Ruhan protested, pain lacing his words.

Diabolos faced Ruhan and said, "I should kill you, but Riku wouldn't want that. So I will spare you this once with a warning: Leave me be and you'll live otherwise I will destroy everything you hold dear."

"Who cares about any of that garbage? it's all fleeting to what we had. that power. We were a God." Ruhan screamed in agony

Diabolos, unyielding, began to walk away, and as he did, Ruhan felt something shift within him—a hollowing, a deep sadness that threatened to consume him whole. At that moment, clarity struck him: he had mistaken power for unity. They had been at the top of the food chain together, but that bond had crumbled the instant Dio severed their connection.

“No, please don’t leave me,” Ruhan cried, desperation flooding his voice. “We are one! You’re everything I need! You can’t leave me behind!”

Dio turned his back on Ruhan, striding toward the skiff that awaited him. He signaled for Ruhan's empire to pick him up, his expression unreadable. It didn’t matter what the would-be conqueror’s change of heart was; Dio had made his choice.

As the skiff approached, the chasm between them widened. Ruhan’s pleas faded into the wind, a haunting echo that danced between the ruins of Hebo. The titan Orochi, once a looming threat, now stood in silence, witnessing the fracture of two beings who had once been bound by necessity and ambition.

In that void, Ruhan felt a profound loneliness settle deep within him, a weight heavier than any defeat he had ever faced. As he lay on the cold ground, the remnants of a planet he had once cherished, he realized that power alone could not fill the emptiness left by Diabolos’s absence. It was a lesson too late to learn—a truth swallowed by the shadows of ambition.

as his empire picked him up and brought him to Narset. Narset's eyes widened seeing the parasite alone.

"Where is diabolos?" she demanded?"

Ruhan groaned as his people put him back in Narset. What once felt like a fitting glove felt foreign and alien.

as his psyche overpowered and flooded Narset he lamented, "I finally had it all!" she yelled distressed. the power of infinity freedom from fear, and it's gone. now I am stuck, in this form. Ah, how could I have been so blind? Of course, he was hiding more power, but what kind? I have never felt anything like it. It was somehow whimsical but deeply ancient and terrifying. it was so uniquely him. I had it we had it, and it's slipped through my fingers again." Narset cried as she fell to the floor dismissing her people.

"What do I do knowing that such power exists? I can't live like this I need it Narset said as she clawed into her skin desperately searching her or Ruhan's memories for what could have given Dio that power.

Dio arrived back home later that night, stepping through the door with a quiet confidence that immediately caught both Jihyo and Voljune’s attention. He looked different—not just in appearance but in presence, like a man who had undergone a fundamental change.

The moment Jihyo spotted him, her eyes lit up, and she let out a joyful squeal, rushing to greet him. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and excitement.

But as they drew closer, Voljune was the first to notice something unusual. Her keen eyes took in every detail—the faint glow in Dio’s eyes, the way his skin seemed more vibrant, healthier. Most notably, the twin’s presence was gone. She could no longer feel the subtle hum of Ruhan or the remnants of that alien parasite. His scars, the deep marks that had once been etched into his body like battle wounds, had mostly healed over, replaced by smooth skin. Even more striking was the intensity in the air around him, an aura that shimmered with power, like a star caught between implosion and explosion.

It wasn’t just power though—there was peace, a dangerous calm that made Jihyo blink in awe. She hadn’t felt this kind of energy from him before, something about it was… magnetic. Yet, despite the gravity of the aura, it didn’t push them away. In fact, both Jihyo and Voljune felt drawn toward him, as if he were the center of some invisible force field.

“This is… different,” Voljune murmured, a small frown creasing her brow as she stirred within Jihyo. “Something’s shifted. Ruhan’s gone… he’s gone. Completely.”

Jihyo nodded, her eyes sweeping over Dio, but instead of questioning it further, a soft smile broke across her face. “You look… incredible,” she whispered, her voice low with admiration. There was pride there, as if seeing him like this filled her with a sense of awe.

But before she could say anything else, Diabolos crossed the remaining distance between them in a heartbeat, his movements sudden yet graceful, almost like a predator approaching its prey. Jihyo gasped as he grabbed her, pulling her close. There was an undeniable heat between them now, something fierce and primal, radiating from him like the burning core of a star.

Without hesitation, Dio brought his lips to hers, and Jihyo melted into the kiss. There was nothing gentle about it—he kissed her with an intensity she had never felt before, the hunger and passion raw and unrestrained. His hands gripped her tightly, but not in a possessive way—more like a declaration, as if reminding her that he was there, fully present, fully alive. Jihyo responded with equal fervor, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer as their kiss deepened. It was as if the world around them ceased to exist at that moment, and all that remained was the energy crackling between them.

Voljune felt surprised, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her and Jihyo’s mouths. She hadn’t seen Dio this… free in a long time. The restraint he usually carried with him, the careful consideration of every move, was gone. He was living in this moment with nothing held back.

“Wow, okay,” Voljune muttered under her breath, catching her breath after the kiss. She stared into his eyes and felt his lust rise to the surface. The two beings understood in a moment and surrendered themselves to Dio. His crotch ground into hers during another kiss until they broke it and Diabolos said, “I need you both,” Jihyo and Voljune could feel the desperation in his touch. He needed her reassurance that she was there with him, and Jihyo/Voljune was ready to give it. She smiled as she took him in for another kiss she ground on his crotch where she could feel his bulge surging and ready to meet her folds. Jihyo yelped as he poked her

“Oh someone is very eager.” come on babe let's go to the bedroom. Dio followed her his eyes clouded by lust as she led him. She noticed a change in his touch the hesitancy was gone replaced by an implacable assertiveness and reverence for her that made Jihyo feel heat swell all over her. Dio brought her in for another kiss as they tumbled onto the bed. As they lay entangled in each other’s presence Jihyo smiled.

“With you by my side, I feel like I can take on the world and win,” Jihyo said as she started to take off her top emboldened by his presence.

“You can I know it,” Diabolos affirmed and Jihyo brought him to her chest. She moaned as his tongue swirled around her breast. They locked eyes as Dio switched to the other and Jihyo moaned. She pushed him deeper into her magnificent mounds hoping to smother him in her warm embrace as she continued to grind on his body. Jihyo moans content as Dio explores every part of her breasts and continues to lick massage and grope her mighty mammaries. When finally stops Jihyo pulls him up to her and says, “Let me fucking ride you.” Dio nodded as he opened his pants to her. Jihyo gets up to take her bottoms off. She straddles him and stares into his eyes. Where she sees a list of course but a renewed vigor for life. Jihyo smiled as she sank into his cock only for Dio to stand right up and begin thrusting into her. She moaned as she never knew he could so easily manhandle her like this. She groaned as his cock kisses her cervix with the tip before greedily taking him in for another kiss. She clung to him like a koala as he ravaged her insides with the vigor of an animal before he laid her gently on the bed and continued plowing her. He watched her delicious breast bounce as he fucked her until Jihyo screamed reaching her orgasm. Terrified he pulled out but Jihyo in the throes of violent pleasure grabbed him and said in unison with Voljune, “Put that cock back in me and cum in me or I will rip it off.” now even more terrified. (and aroused) by his girlfriend, he slammed back into her. Jihyo’s screams echoed through their apartment,

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she groaned as Dio ravaged her and her eyes rolled back. Unable to hold back any longer Dio picked up speed and burst inside of her. Jihyo moaned as she felt him cum inside of her sending her into another orgasm. It was then that Dio realized that Jihyo had an impregnation kink. As every single time they fuck she wanted a creampie. Dio smiled and teased her saying, “You wanna be a mom so bad,” Jihyo’s eyes narrowed as she pinned Dio to the bed, and she began riding him. Her pace was ruthless as she took him in and out. Her eyes never left his as she rode him right past the refractory period into another arousal period. Her eyes filled with need as she demanded he fill her again.

“Please Dio give me a baby please,” Jihyo said as she rode. Diabolos for all his strength and power was helpless to stop her as she rode him again and again stringing out orgasm after orgasm until he passed out.

When the warmth in her core left Jihyo looked down to see Dio was unconscious. She chuckled as she got off of him. His cum having filled her womb with seed. She smiled as she lay next to the poor man sensually stroking his cock as he awoke jolting awake. Jihyo locked eyes with him as she never let go and kept nursing his rod back to life gingerly.

When they finally broke apart, Jihyo was breathless, her heart racing as she gazed up at him. “What… what happened to you?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek as if to confirm that he was real.

“I moved on,” Dio said a bit perplexed and unsure of how he came to that answer but understanding it was the correct one. Jihyo and Voljune smiled as they lay next to Diabolos happy to see him so vibrant. He was different from the Dio he was before he was severed but the one that stood before them had a new glow to him that was undeniable.

[thecameronchronicles]

Once A Year In Nassau

TW: Public sex. Hair pulling. Dirty talk. Raw sex.

SUMMARY: Tradition sparks a new need between you and Rafe. Something more permanent than your current arrangement.

Once A Year in Nassau

He pouts into his hand, thinking about everything else he could be doing right now other than sitting across from his father and Rose at yet another silent dinner where he is ignored. Sarah doesn't have to put up with it and Wheezie is at camp somewhere back home.

"Cameron!" A raspy introduction projects his eyes upwards as the first flicker of hope for excitement is reinstated through his veins. But it isn't for the man shaking hands with his father as they discuss the time apart. It is for the girl following him.

You.

You're appearance has changed; your hair a bit lighter and cut an inch or two shorter from last time, your skin still needing to be the same tan it was when you said your goodbyes last summer, but your smile to him was blinding and unwaivering.

"And look at Y/N, even more of a stunner every time I see you." Ward offers as Rose kisses your cheeks but your eyes stay on Rafe. It's long enough to see the anger behind his clenched jaw before you offer an awkward nod to appear unaffected. In truth, you are both bubbling inside for a moment alone and as you are invited to join their dinner, it seems it might never happen.

"Excuse me." You manage between your father and Ward's conversation, your eyes flicking up to Rafe as if to hint some silent invitation but you see him glaring at his drink. You sigh, knowing exactly the reason for the scowl but disappear for a reprieve anyhow.

The layout of the resort is luxurious with an open concept to all but that of the bathrooms. It is the only place where one could mutter and not be heard and it's what leads you there. You slip away behind the door and cool your heated skin at the thoughts of last summer.

On the beach, in Rafe's arms, as he playfully throws you into the water before diving behind you. Later beneath the stars as he makes you call to God as you grip the seamless sand beneath as it forfeits support between your fingers.

The summer before that in the supply closet on the second floor as he came off of an argument from his father.

Since the first kiss that initial summer, it had become a tradition of sorts to be lost in each other. Each goodbye more painful, each morning after feeling impossible to breathe. Now finding him still affected by the weight of the Cameron name, all you wished for was to have a summer you didn't have to make it only a memory with him.

"You're back." His voice forces your eyes to him within the hallway as you can't help but pull your neck to ache at just how he towers over you. Summer and time is always kind to him, only now the beautiful sadness behind his eyes has amplified to a permanent existence that pulls at your heart.

"You're so-" Sad? Handsome? Unforgettable? The adjective is lost on your tongue as he takes you against him. Stronger than last time, he pushes you against the wall between the assigned restrooms until you can feel how rigid he's become for you.

"You're the only thing that makes me feel right, Y/N." He pleads between kisses, the taste of his vices on the tip of his tongue lost to the heat of the same muscle wrapped around your own.

"Then let me..." You pull him into the bathroom and lock the door. Decorated in affluence, a couch conveniently lay in wait. You set him in the center and pull the skirt of your dress up high enough to get onto your knees.

"Oh fuck..." He groans as he watches you descend onto your knees for him. You finger his buckle until his button can be freed, releasing him to you as he flexes his hips so you can pull him out. The sight of him, already shiny with precum makes your mouth water.

"Yes..." He moans as you tease him. Long licks up his shaft before finally claiming him to the resistance of your throat. Breathing deeply, you commit him deeper until he's gripping the couch.

"Oh baby...just like that. You know just how to suck me, don't you?" You nod, your new manicure threatening ruination by how you are gripping his thigh.

"Anyone else get to know how this feels? It's a long time to go without, ya know..." His eyes are hard while his jaw is slack as your tempo only increases as if your enthusiasm proves your conviction to him.

"Only you." You moan before he wraps your hair in his fist.

"I don't like when you change things. I like remembering it like last time. Don't do it again." He pumps himself into your throat as you take him in stride. Hollowed cheeks, you bask in the understanding of being used for his pleasure. Knowing exactly what it is he needs, you moan around him and feel him buck with abandon.

"Such a good little mouth for me, aren't you?" You nod, looking up through faulty mascara you know he loves to see run and the tearful eyes as the reason.

"Get the fuck on me." He tears you up by your hair until you're on his lap.

"Nobody else?" He rubs your exposed ass made available by the cut of your panties.

"You sure about that?" He rips it without much effort to the limited fabric there.

"You didn't let anyone else touch you? Hmm?"

"Nobody. I swear, Rafe. Nobody else has touched me or kissed me since our first summer-" He interrupts you with a kiss as his fingers draw figure eights throughout your folds until you're mindless.

"Show me you're mine. Ride my hand until you drip down my rings." You feel the cold metal he references against your thigh before the length of his sturdy fingers enter.

"Oh-" He uses his second hand over your mouth.

"Nobody else gets to hear you either. Got it?" He leaves a new rule every interaction and this is no exception.

"Yes-"

"Good. Now show me before I take what I want and or leave you unsatisfied for another year." You grip the couch at his back and use his hand, two dedicated fingers curved at your g-spot, as you moan.

"That's my girl-" He huffs in a guttural groan, his head against your chest as he breathes in the scent identifiable to only you. His words are interrupted by the force of your lips demanding his attention. As you kiss, your tongues intertwine for taste and need, until you end up biting and sucking on it.

"I need you on my cock. Right fucking now." Whatever separates you is pulled away before he hoists you up and levels himself inside of you. You've felt him in enough familiarity to know it will stretch you, a feeling he echoes as he groans to the intimacy of it.

"I need this." He grips your ass before bouncing you onto him.

"And these-" he uses his other hand to expose your breasts, naked sans a bra. His name is your only breath as he takes his time nibbling and sucking, his hands otherwise devoted to your curves and ass.

"Deeper." He orders as you turn for him, surprising him as he watches you take him reverse cowgirl. Only this is still not enough. You bend forward, hands on the small carpet before you, as you curve for him.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N-"

"Hold my hair-" You gasp at the grip he makes.

"On my God, Y/N. Your ass," he squeezes it before swatting it hard enough to leave a red mark behind. "Your-fuck! I need this..." One hand on your hair, the other draws a line of his trimmed nails down your spine until he has you in a grip.

"You want it like this? You want me to fill you up while you're bent over giving me this..." He stalls, searching for the right words. "this view?"

"Please Rafe. I've thought about how it will be all year." He pulls you up by your hair until your back rests against his chest. His fingers play with your clit as he moans against you.

"That's it. Oh fuck. Oh yeah baby...ohhh-" The door tries behind you as your thighs sore from the rise and fall of your muscles called into motion.

"Do. Not. Stop." He breathes with each thrust until you are unable to speak and high off of his need for you. He holds a hand around the sides of your throat, ensuring you can breathe while also holding you in place as the other palms your breasts.

"Open the door-" A woman's voice calls as Rafe pounds up into you, deeper than he's ever been.

"Make us come, baby. I'm not stopping until you're filled and shaking but I also don't want anyone else seeing you like this. So come-baby,"

"Open the-" The voice tries again.

"FUCK OFF!" Rafe calls out, dainty feet rushing away as he doubles his efforts, inspiring you to do the same. Wherever he has you pinned so you cannot move, you use small ministration to affect him. Clenching your inner walls until he can feel the flutter, he arches back in awe.

"Baby! That's good-Goddamn!" He groans into your neck as you shake uncontrollably. His fingers a rush against your clit unwind and prepare your orgasm as you feel it surge without warning.

"That's it, fucking come for me baby. You're gonna make me come-" He chokes out, his own pleasure coursing through him as he spills inside of you.

"Rafe..." You breathe as his hand remains on your throat as if he cannot begin to fathom the idea to release you. It takes you tapping his hand for his head to rise from your shoulder as his lips trace the skin there.

This is the part you loathe. The part that has gotten more difficult over the former exchanges.

"I-"

"Stay, Y/N."

"Rafe, I-"

"Please." His summons resonates into the marrow of your bones.

"I don't think-"

"Marry me." His words make you turn to face him and you see how there is no humor on his expression. Not the hauntingly soft yet intimidating eyes or the full lips spread in contentment.

"Marry me, Y/N."

MASTERLIST

A/N: I was thinking of possibly making this into a series. Any thoughts?

[emilys-bangs]

So I loved to see you are taking requests for tooth rotting fluff and I’ve been thinking, what an established relationship in which Emily gets super jealous when someone’s flirting w r and instead of being mad or sad, she just responds by getting extra touchy and really wants to make you believe that she loves you better and louder and softer than anyone else could? (You obv already know) this is super random so sorry if it’s not your vibe lol

This is absolutely perfect, tysm for requesting <3

----

nuisance | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: established relationship, fluff, jealous / possessive emily, a gross man, no use of yn, use of petnames

Word count: 0.9k

A soft laugh tumbles from your lips as Emily whispers in your ear, idly profiling the dining guests from your place at the bar. She’s standing next to you while you sit on the plush stool, two drinks in front of you as you wait to be seated.

She’s chosen the perfect place. The restaurant is lit up with the warm glow of candlelights, soft music playing over the clinks of cutlery and the hushed conversations of couples. Emily is wrapped up in a burgundy dress, the satin kissing her pale skin in a way you’re almost jealous of. Her voice is soft, her fingertips softer still as they skim your arm and leave idle goosebumps in their wake. 

You feel almost sickeningly in love; your heart is just on the cusp of racing, your cheeks heated with a warm glow at the tenderness of her attention. It’s a rare opportunity, to see her like this—dressed up and relaxed and oh so gentle, her eyes shimmering with the love you know is reflected clearly in your own face.

“And that guy,” she murmurs, subtly tilting her head to the suited man sitting in the corner, “oh, he’s a piece of work,”—you giggle and her eyes soften, her lips tilting upward in a smile—“his suit looks like Armani and that’s definitely a Rolex, so you know he’s a lawyer. Pity, their egos are sky—”

“Excuse me?” Someone interrupts. You and Emily both turn in the direction of the voice, expecting to see the hostess.

It’s not her. A man stands in front of you, the determined look on his face informing you of his intentions before he even speaks.

Emily’s arm curls around your waist. “Can we help you?” Her tone is pointed and sharp, edged with irritation you know only you can hear—apparently she sniffed him out, too.

The man ignores her. His eyes slide to you; the unabashed hunger in them makes you stifle a disgusted shiver. “Can I buy you a drink?” He leans against the bar, dragging his gaze over your body.

“I already have one.” You say flatly, “In case you didn’t see.”

“He’s too busy looking at you to notice it,” Emily’s voice turns warm as she hooks her finger under your chin and gently brings your eyes back to hers. Her fingers tighten on your waist, the darkness of her eyes as intense as a black hole as her thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. “I don’t blame him, chérie,” she breathes, her words now for you only, “have you seen yourself tonight? You’re breathtaking.” Her fingers gently rake through your hair, careful not to mess it up.

A shiver dances down your spine. Cheeks hot, you tilt your chin upward. 

Getting the hint, Emily leans in for a kiss, not before you see the smug smile on her lips. Surprisingly she’s soft, caressing your lips gently, reverently, instead of kissing you with possessive intent. Somehow it makes you love her impossibly more, and you sink further into her kiss before an annoyed ahem breaks you out of your daze.

You turn to the man with a scrunch between your brows. “You’re still here?” You ask, fighting to keep a straight face when Emily snorts. She hides the sound in your forehead, her lips gently pressing against your temple. The hand on your bare arm distracts you, and as she draws circles on your skin you barely notice the napkin that the man slides across the bar, his number written messily on it.

“If you ever change your mind from that,” he sneers at Emily, her responding scoff dripping with derision, “call me.” 

He has the audacity to smile.

Anger flares in your stomach. “Watch your fucking—”

“That’s sweet.” Emily interrupts before you throw a punch. “I don’t think you want it though, do you, amor?” She trails her knuckles down your cheek, her eyes still hot with jealousy. The low murmur of her voice almost soothes the fire in your veins.

“No.” You say, twirling your chair to properly face her. Her nimble fingers cup your jaw and you lean into her hand, raising your voice so the man can hear you. “You’ve got a lighter on you, haven’t you?”

Emily grins. The dimples in her cheeks make you smile back, even as the man sputters behind you.

“Emily Prentiss?” The hostess comes by then, giving you an apologetic smile. “Your table is ready.”

“Just in time.” Emily doesn’t spare the man another glance as she holds out her hand for you. You take it, smiling as she carefully helps you down from the stool. Her fingers thread through yours and you turn to grab your phone.

Ever in tune with you, Emily squeezes your fingers. “I’ll get it, my love.” She murmurs, grabbing your phone and hers, as well as her purse. With the barest tips of her fingers, she grabs the napkin and tosses it into your half-full wine glass as the man gawks.

You laugh softly as Emily turns and gently pulls you to your table, both of you steadfastly ignoring the hot set of eyes behind you. She drops your hand when you reach the table, only to pull out the chair for you, a sparkle in her dark eyes.

You grin at her brightly. 

Emily feigns confusion. “What?” She asks, her brow arching.

“I love you.” 

A slow smile spreads across her lips. Emily grabs your hand, gently kisses your knuckles and leaves behind traces of her lipstick. 

“I love you, too.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[stevesgother]

Dress - S.H

Paring - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - 2 times Steve Harrington has lost his mind seeing you in a dress that fits you like skin, and the one time he does something about it.

Contains - best friends to lovers, mutual pining, reader is pathetically in love, loosely based off of ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift. Or maybe heavily based lol

Warnings - steve & reader ARE 18 in this, they just haven’t graduated yet, drinking, vomit. As always, let me know if I missed anything

AN - THIS IS PART 1 OF A WIP. second fic…ever! also my first mini series! i was gonna make it all one fic but i figured it would be easier to digest this way. enjoy :)

Senior Prom - May 1985

Michael Cooper. That’s who was waiting for you downstairs in your foyer, sweet talking your parents while he waited to escort you to your final high school dance. He wasn’t your first choice for your senior prom, hardly even your second; but he was respectable enough for you to be seen on his arm for one night.

Taking one last look at yourself in your vanity mirror, you smoothed your hands down the front of your dress. It was a beautiful baby pink ball gown with lace trim and puffy sleeves. Before you can think better of it, before you can feel guilty for it, you imagine Steve’s reaction when he sees you tonight.

Steve Harrington. Your best friend since diapers. Your mothers grew up together, so naturally when they found out they were pregnant at nearly the exact same time, it only made sense that they would orchestrate your friendship immediately.

As it turns out, not much orchestrating would be required. The second your little baby brains could comprehend what it meant to love another person, the rest was history. Wherever you went, Steve went too. You’re not sure when your feelings for him started to change. The usual calm that washed over you whenever you were in his presence one day seemed to transform into something different. You felt nervous, like someone had released a net of butterflies into your stomach.

You clear your head with a harsh shake and grab your clutch off the bed, making your way downstairs. Michael is waiting for you with a green corsage in a shiny translucent box. ‘That's Sweet,’ you think, “if only it matched my dress.’ 

–

Upon arriving at the gym, the first thing you do, consciously or not, is scan the room for your best friend. You spot him quickly, his perfectly manicured hair and well-pressed suit making him hard to miss. Even harder to miss is the gorgeous, curly haired brunette resting her head on his shoulder.

Nancy Wheeler.

They’ve been together for over a year at this point, even joining your close knit circle of friends. Despite this, you can’t help the nagging sense of jealousy stabbing at your chest, making your face heat up. You tell yourself it’s the humidity inside the gymnasium, and not the fact that you’d give anything to be in her position. You quickly abandon your date and try not to feel guilty for it, making your way over to the happy couple.

“Steve!” You call as you come further into their line of sight.

“Hey you!” Steve stands and gives you a tight hug. “Hey!’ you greet, returning the embrace. He can’t help the way his eyes quickly travel down the expanse of you, noticing the shape this dress gives your body. He prays to any listening God that his girlfriend didn’t notice, that you didn’t notice. “Hey Nance.” You address her with a polite smile. She gives you a hug without warning. Another thing that irks you about Nancy Wheeler: that girl is impossible to hate. You have every reason to despise her, and yet you can’t. She’s kind, funny, strong-willed and beautiful. She’s so ‘girl next door’, she’s so…not you. Occasionally you’ve wondered if it’s a front, that she can’t possibly be that perfect.

“Where’s Michael?” She asks inquisitively; like she genuinely cares where your douchebag date has run off to. A quick scan of the room reveals he’s already talking up another girl by the photobooth. There’s not one part of you that gives a shit. “We were just thinking about grabbing some food, wanna come with?” Steve nods his head toward the various appetizers they have set up on tables decorated with gaudy tinsel and tablecloths. “Yeah, why not?”, you smile and it doesn’t reach your eyes.

–

An hour and 2 cups of spiked punch later, ‘Heaven’ by Bryan Adams starts to play and you feel like you might hurl. Nancy’s face quickly lights up and she gives her date a knowing look, “Steve! Let's dance! Please??”. She’s immediately pulling him away from the table where you’ve been watching them flirt all night. Her delicate hand resting on his bicep, his large one finding a home on her thigh. He sends you a sympathetic look as he rises; sorry that he has to leave you there, sorry that you won’t be slow dancing with anyone tonight. He has no idea.

Your date is long gone. The two of you going together was a ticket inside and nothing more.

The air in the gym is suffocating and frankly smells of sweaty basketball shorts, so you decide to make your way outside for some fresh air. The romantic serenade of Bryan Adams’ voice is nothing more than a quiet lullaby as you lean against the brick wall of your high school.

You hear him before you see him. “Hey stranger,” the open door momentarily lets the humidity escape and you feel it wash over your skin. “you alright?” he asks with a half smile.

“Yeah just,” you say looking around, “getting some air is all,” returning the expression. He imitates you and decides to lean on the wall, a little too close for comfort. You’re all but slapped across the face with his scent. Cinnamon, a no doubt expensive musky cologne, and sweat. You can feel him looking at you, so you decide to meet his gaze; praying that he can’t see the crimson shade of red creeping up your neck and cheeks simply from standing next to him. You feel so pathetic at times like these. 

“Nance found a couple of her girlfriends, figured it’d be a good time for a smoke.” He pulls a cigarette out of his suit jacket pocket, and lights it. His hand cupped to cover the breeze.

“Those’ll kill ya, you know?” you smirk, knowing. You’ve always teased him for his bad habits, especially this one. “Yeah well,” he says in an inhale, “now’s as good a’ time as any, right?”

He grins at you, smug. It sends you reeling and you hope your thundering heartbeat doesn’t give you away. Maybe it’s just the alcohol.

After a few minutes of silence, he stomps his cigarette out on the pavement and turns to fully face you. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and your breath hitches in your throat.  Steve’s complimented you before, thousands of times. So why does this feel like you’ve just been slammed into a wall of concrete?

“Steve…”

You feel like he’s getting closer. You’ve definitely had too much to drink.

Before you can stop yourself or even comprehend what’s happening, you vomit all the contents of your stomach directly onto Steve’s perfectly polished loafers. He yelps, most in surprise, slightly in horror. Despite that undeniable foulness of the situation, his hands immediately move to hold your hair back, just in case you aren’t, well, finished. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started crying. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re okay,” he soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Let’s get you home, yeah?” He starts to lead you to his car in the parking lot, leaving you here alone not an option for him. “What about Nancy?” you sob, “I’ll come back and get her, honey. Don’t worry.” Honey. You almost puke again.

Once he settles you into the passenger seat of his pristine BMW, you watch as he toes off his shoes and throws them in the garbage. When he slides into the driver's seat and turns on the ignition, he turns and brings a palm up to cradle your jaw. “Guess I’m gonna have to keep an eye on ya next time,” he chuckles, “can’t handle your mildly spiked punch.” You groan, but give a breathy chuckle of your own, “Just drive, Harrington.”

When you arrive home, you breathe a sigh of relief at the lack of your family car in the driveway. Your mother would certainly pitch a fit if she saw you like this - mascara streaked down your face, an obnoxious yellow stain down the front of your once flawless dress. Steve leads you upstairs with a hand on the small of your back, and a palm cradling your elbow. You know you’re not drunk, and you’re almost positive that wasn’t the reason you spilled your guts. But the alternative to just letting Steve take care of you would be admitting that you love him, that you’re in love with him.

You don’t bother taking your makeup off, Steve just helps you change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Lights on or off?” He asks as he pulls the covers up and over you, “Off, please.” he gives you a little two-finger salute, “you got it.” Just as he’s reaching underneath your lamp shade you whisper, “Steve?” he looks, “yeah trouble?” “I’m sorry for ruining your night…and throwing up on your shoes.” you give a sheepish look. Even though he would have every right to be, you know he’s not mad at you.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head,”the shoes we can discuss at a later date,” he shoots you a wink, making sure you know he’s only teasing.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Without another word he closes the bedroom door, bathing you in darkness. Just before you succumb to sleep, you’re filled with dread at the thought that you’re gonna remember this in the morning.

Cheers to senior year.

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C1)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.0K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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01: The Thermodynamics of My Hot Mess

I wasn't jealous before we met. Now every woman I see is a potential threat. The once timid, tame, collegiate girl I was before I met you has turned me possessive, it isn't nice.

And it’s all your fault, Oscar Piastri. You’ve taken the calm, rational part of me and set it on fire, leaving nothing but the green-eyed monster in its place. Oscar Piastri, you have turned me into a jealous mess, filled with envy and desperation I never thought possible. It’s like you’ve invaded every corner of my mind, making me obsess over the thought of you, the idea that someone else might take you away from me.

Even in my wildest, most fantasmic dreams, I would never have predicted that a spontaneous trip to Santorini, Greece, would spark the greatest lustful romance of my life. It was supposed to be a simple escape, a break from the pressures of college life. But the moment I laid eyes on you, everything changed. The calm, composed person I used to be unraveled with every stolen glance, every accidental touch, every moment we spent together under the Mediterranean sun.

But here I am, in a whirlwind romance that’s as exhilarating as terrifying, driven by emotions I didn’t even know I had. And the craziest part? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. This chaotic, intense passion has awakened something in me that I can’t ignore, something that makes me feel more alive than I ever have before.

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Three weeks ago, I was drooling on page one hundred thirty-eight of my physics textbook on thermodynamics, barely awake and running on fumes. I was practically strung out on Monster Energy Drinks and those overpriced, sugary lattes from the campus vending machine—the only thing keeping me from completely passing out on the spot. The dense equations and dry theories blurred together on the page, making it impossible to focus. My brain begged for a break, but I kept pushing, hoping the caffeine would magically make the material stick.

News flash, it didn't.

So, when Mama casually mentioned that we’d be vacationing in Santorini for summer break, it was like a lifeline had been thrown my way. Suddenly, the fog of exhaustion lifted, and a thrill of excitement surged through me. It was as if a dormant part of me, buried beneath layers of stress and routine, had been awakened, eager for the unexpected adventure that awaited.

The idea of trading my study desk for the stunning views of Santorini seemed almost surreal. My thoughts raced as I imagined wandering through the picturesque streets, soaking in the sun, and immersing myself in a world far removed from the rigors of academic life. It was an escape I hadn't known I needed, a break from the monotony of textbooks and equations.

I pictured myself strolling along the charming alleys lined with whitewashed buildings and vibrant bougainvillea, the scent of the Mediterranean Sea mingling with the aroma of fresh local cuisine. The thought of exploring ancient ruins and savoring sunsets that painted the sky in hues of orange and pink felt like stepping into a dream.

And not to mention, a part of me was inkling for a dream-like, rom-com-esque summer romance. I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, a change of scenery could bring that fantasy to life.

As I swiped through images of ancient ruins, bustling cityscapes, and pristine beaches, I couldn't help but imagine myself in those exotic locales, experiencing the same thrilling adventures and romantic escapades. It was hard not to get swept up in the fantasy, picturing myself in those picture-perfect settings, with someone special by my side. It could quite literally be anyone, at this point. My horrific failed romancing attempts as well as my "not quite mediocre", yet "not quite stellar" looks were keeping me away from all the hotties.

The contrast between the vibrant, sun-soaked images on my screen and the monotony of my daily grind was stark. Quite embarrassing, frankly.

It fueled my desire for something more; something that broke away from the predictability of my studies and everyday responsibilities. Each scroll made the dream of a spontaneous adventure feel more urgent, intensifying my longing for a chance to immerse myself in the extraordinary.

Girls that I had grown up with were posing like models. Vogue, Elle, Cosmopolitan. And I wanted to be just like them.

Teeny tiny bikinis tied by a loose string, new ear and a belly piercing, flip-flops, and red tan lines. Margaritas, mojitos with lime, white wine. Loud club music, the nightlife of a girl in a foreign country, and dark blue eyeshadow and glitter. Flocking around older guys with them, locking lips with handsome strangers in bars, and flaunting all their escapades (or namely, their sexcapades) It was all so racy, daring, and outgoing. All of these things were unlike me, but I was a girl who dreamed of having fun. So you never know, I could suddenly change overnight.

The thought of stepping into that world, even just for a summer, was both thrilling and terrifying. It was a side of life I had only seen through screens, and part of me wondered if I was capable of embracing it. What would it feel like to let go of all my inhibitions, to live without worrying about consequences? To be that carefree girl who dances until dawn, flirts shamelessly, and collects stories too wild to share with anyone but your closest friends?

I couldn’t help but wonder if that girl was buried somewhere inside me, waiting for the right moment—or the right place—to emerge. Maybe Santorini would be the setting for my own little transformation, a place where I could shed my quiet, reserved self and become someone who seizes the moment without hesitation. After all, isn’t that what summer is for?

And when Mama told me about our trip to Santorini, that possibility suddenly seemed within reach. The idea of a vacation to such a dreamlike destination felt like the perfect catalyst for the change I’d been secretly craving. But more than that, it was a surge of joy and gratitude that hit me, knowing how hard she worked to make this happen. Growing up, it was just the two of us—Mama working tirelessly to provide for me and make every day special despite our modest means. She had always done her best to ensure that I had the opportunities I needed, even if it meant making sacrifices. The idea of a vacation, something so seemingly extravagant, was a rare treat, and I was thrilled beyond words.

To say the least, the envy was palpable, a green-eyed monster gnawing at me, craving the excitement and connection that seemed to radiate from every carefully curated Pinterest-worthy post.

Yeah, you can say that that excitement might not have lasted that long.

"Wait, wait, wait, repeat that please?" I questioned, exasperated by both the shitty wifi in my dorm room as well as my mother's purposeful exclusion of information. I sat criss-crossed in my twin-xl dorm room bed, surrounded by the comforting clutter of my college life. My phone rested precariously on the edge of my left knee (balancing carefully as I too, was practicing balancing my temper), its screen flickering with a weak signal as I struggled to catch every word Mama was saying. To my left, a wall was covered in an eclectic array of Polaroids and dimmed fairy lights, creating a soft, warm glow against the stark white of the dormitory walls. The space felt cozy but cramped, with textbooks and scattered notes littering the desk beneath the small window, which offered a view of the bustling campus below.

"Well I thought it would be a wonderful surprise for you," Mama said, elated over the fact that this bit of information was quite important. She wore a gigantic stretching grin on her face, a strict contrast to the curvature of my dimpled frown.

"By purposely excluding that we would be sharing a house with another family?" I incredulously asked, my left eyebrow arching up, my mouth turning into an even more prominent downward frown. Fuck, the shitty dorm wifi is acting up again. Now on Facetime, I was stuck like that. Great. I was eternally engraved into my phone as an unhappy bitch.

"You can make wonderful friends! I heard that they are your age," Mama wiggled her eyebrows. Figures. Of course, she would turn an opportunity that seemed to actively pray on my downfall into a splendid opportunity for me to, *shudders*, socialize.

"I don't need new friends, and there are four of them! That's a lot of people," I exclaimed, throwing my hands into the hair and finger-combing the stray bits of hair out of my face. Socializing was a lot for me sometimes. The thought of mingling with a whole new group felt like a daunting task, especially when my comfort zone was so tightly packed within the walls of my current routine. Each new interaction felt like a potential minefield of awkward conversations and missteps, a far cry from the cozy familiarity of my small circle. (Okay, a circle may be an exaggeration. Maybe a direct line would be a better description to describe the relationships around me: small, minimal, clean)

"Four kids your age, and two parents. This is the perfect mixing pot for you to make friends," Mama pointedly replied.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't need friends," I lied.

"That's a lie," Mama accused. Well, not accused. She was right, but I wouldn't give that to her. I was innately stubborn. Wonder where I got that from…

"Of course not! I have a great social life, thank you very much," I lied, again. Blinking slowly, I tried to not let my eyes expose me.

"You haven't brought a boyfriend home ever. And you have one friend total." Mama snapped back.

"Well, Clementine is a very amazing and loyal best friend," I narrowed my eyes.

"Amen to that one," I could hear Clementine's voice echo from her bunk bed next to me. She was mindlessly scrolling through her phone under her light-blue comforter, yet this nosy bitch was still listening to our conversation.

"Mind your business Missus Nosy," I sassed at Clementine.

"Whatever, your business is mine. You forget we are literally ten feet away from each other." She groaned as she flipped to face me from under the comfort of her blankets. Mama laughed and I grimaced again.

"Seriously, you should branch out. As a young lady, you must learn to explore your choices-" Mama continued, and I could feel a heartfelt lecture incoming.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it I know." I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"So, what exactly are we supposed to do with this family?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around the idea.

"You’ll figure it out," Mama said with a reassuring tone. "It's an opportunity to meet new people and have some fun. Plus, they might have interesting stories to share."

"Right, because nothing says 'fun' like having to navigate the quirks of a new family while on vacation," I said, sarcastically. "I suppose I could use a few new stories to tell."

"That's the spirit! And who knows, maybe you’ll end up having a great time. Sometimes the best adventures come from the unexpected," Mama said optimistically.

"I guess we’ll see. Just don’t be surprised if I spend most of my time avoiding their overzealous attempts at bonding," I replied, half-joking.

"Fair enough," Mama laughed. "Just promise me you’ll at least give it a chance. And who knows, you might even surprise yourself."

"Yeah, yeah. I promise," I said with a resigned sigh. "I'll give it a chance, even if it means putting up with a bunch of new faces."

"That’s all I ask," Mama said, her voice softening. "I’m looking forward to this trip, and I hope you will be too."

"Me too, I guess," I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. "Just don’t expect me to become best friends with everyone right away."

"Deal," Mama said with a smile. "And remember, it’s supposed to be an adventure."

"Adventure. Got it," I said, rolling my eyes again but smiling this time. "Let’s hope it’s more exciting than a group project."

"Exactly! Now, get ready for a summer you won’t forget," Mama said, her tone upbeat.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied, "I’ll do my best."

As the call ended, I shook my head, trying to shake off the unease. Interrupting me from my daydreaming, Clementine cleared her throat.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I'll do my best." She mocked me in a high-pitched voice.

"Girl shut up," I groaned, throwing one of my various squishmallows at her head.

"Branch out my ass, you need to get cronked." Clementine gestured enthusiastically. Yes, she was the most extroverted person that I knew, and I loved it about her. We were just two opposite ends of a stick, and I did have a lot to learn about her charisma as well.

"What you just described is quite literally the evil alter-ego version of me, you know that right?" I deadpanned. Throwing back the squishmallow at me, she continued.

"Oh, come on! Loosen up and have some fun," Clementine replied with a flourish. "You’re too stiff, girl. You need to embrace the chaos and just go with it. And you know that you really want to have fun." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Okay yes fine, you got me." I rolled my eyes again.

"It's the summer somewhere new, be happy! You can be anyone that you want for a bit." She said.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe if the wifi wasn’t being a pain, I’d have a better attitude," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Blame it on the wifi all you want," Clementine said, laughing. "But seriously, you’re going to have a blast. Just let yourself get loose. Besides, how often do you get to have spontaneous adventures like this?"

"True," I admitted, "but it’s a lot easier for you to say. You thrive on chaos. Eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"Okay, make me sound like some ravenous gossip party monster, Mrs. Malnourished-From-Any-Entertainment," Clementine rolled her eyes.

"Hey!!" I sputtered, trying to feign madness. I failed, as I immediately burst out laughing.

"And I swear you’re going to learn to love all the chaos too!" Clementine said enthusiastically. "It’s all about stepping out of your comfort zone. You’ve got to live a little!"

I sighed, shaking my head but smiling. "Alright, Miss Extrovert, I’ll try. Just don’t expect me to start dancing on tables or anything."

"Hey, you never know!" Clementine teased. "You might surprise yourself. Besides, it’s all about making memories, right?"

"Make memories, youthful nature, spring in my step, all right I get it man!" I yell, burrowing my face in my pillow, also conveniently getting a mouthful of hair. Yum.

"And don't forget it's actually time for you to get laid," Clementine said in a sing-songy type of voice.

"Clementine!" I exclaimed. She really had no filter, this girl…

"What? I'm just saying," Clementine shrugged, her grin widening. "A little romance never hurt anyone, right?"

"Yeah, but could you not be so… blunt about it?" I replied, trying to regain my composure. "I mean, it's one thing to tease me about dancing on tables, but this is pushing it."

Clementine laughed, unabashedly. "Oh, come on. You're going to a beautiful place with a bunch of people your age. It’s practically a recipe for adventure. And who knows? Maybe this will be the summer you meet someone special."

"Or maybe it’ll be the summer I learn to tolerate sharing a house with strangers," I said, rolling my eyes. "But thanks for the… encouragement."

"Hey, I’m just trying to help you make the most of it," Clementine said, her tone softening. "Sometimes a little push is all you need to open up and see things differently."

I sighed, shaking my head but smiling despite myself. "Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll keep an open mind. But no promises on the whole ‘getting laid’ part."

"And plus, I have absolutely no skills in approaching any guy ever. You know this," I cried in despair. Clementine laughed, recalling all the times when my horrible romancing skills failed me. Note, there are way too many to mention, so why do I even bother to find a boyfriend in the first place…

"Oh, I remember the summer fair incident," Clementine said, her laughter bubbling up. "You were trying to strike up a conversation with that guy at the cotton candy stand, and you got so flustered you ended up spilling your drink all over him."

"Please don't remind me of that, oh no," I groaned.

"And then, in an attempt to salvage the situation, you accidentally knocked over the cotton candy machine. The whole thing turned into a sticky, sugary disaster. You actually looked beet red it was so funny," Clementine continued laughing.

"I still cringe thinking about that," I groaned, hiding my face. "I was so embarrassed I avoided that fair for months."

"And let’s not forget that one party during Midsummer's last year," Clementine said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Oh let's not bring that one up from the archives-" I started to say.

"Girl you need to stop pretending that you can actually dance," Clementine giggled.

"Hey! I actually didn't know that he was a professional dancer, okay? Showing me up that badly was so embarrassing, I did want to die so bad at that moment," I recalled.

"I was trying to save your horrid fate," Clementine continued.

"You can't just gesture to me at a party and try to whisper yell, it's so loud. That would've never worked," I argued.

"Well from the sidelines it was actually pretty funny seeing you trip and then knock over those plastic cups," Clementine continued.

"Yeah? It wasn't funny when I landed in that bowl of punch face-first though," I whined.

"Yeah! Of course, it wasn't because my car smelled like the rancid mix of alcohol and punch for weeks," Clementine complained.

"That's my revenge for you. You should've yanked me out of the dance circle the minute I stepped foot in there. Why I did it, I have no idea to this day," I lamented.

"Ugh, meanie," Clementine laughed at me.

"That was such a mess, though" I admitted, cringing. "I had to help clean up while everyone tried not to laugh at me."

"But hey," Clementine said, her tone softening. "All those awkward moments make for great stories, and they don’t define who you are. Sometimes, it’s those hilarious failures that end up being the most memorable."

"Fine, Mom," I droned on. "You have a point."

Clementine’s eyes twinkled with a mix of sympathy and amusement. "Exactly. And besides, who knows? Maybe this summer will be the time you finally get it right. You’re going to be in a new place with new people. It’s a fresh start."

"I suppose," I said, still feeling a bit skeptical but warming up to the idea. "I guess there's something to be said for making a fool of yourself in a new environment. It might not be so bad if everyone’s in the same boat."

Okay, I lied again. It was that bad.

(Guys I promise that I'm not a serial liar, I just exaggerate. A bit.)

The overwhelming heat of Greece, and pretty much the heat of the Mediterranean hit me like a truck immediately when I landed. It was dry heat, no humidity no nothing. Just good ole heavy heat. Sweating through the airport terminal, then customs, to the shuttle, my bra was pretty much damp by the time I had stepped onto the cobbled ground in front of our air b&b.

Beaded sweat was clouding my vision, completely ruining the pretty vision I had when I put gel on my forehead to curl my baby hairs. I was seeing stars (mostly perspiration). It was hot. I was getting a hot flash/nearly dying of heatstroke.

The dreamy images of Santorini I had envisioned from my cool, comfortable dorm room felt like a distant fantasy now. The picturesque streets, which I had imagined as quaint and inviting, seemed more like a maze of sun-baked stone. My excitement was quickly replaced by a wave of discomfort and disorientation.

“Welcome to paradise,” I muttered sarcastically to myself, feeling like I was melting into the pavement. I glanced over at my mom, who was also looking a little wilted but trying to maintain her usual upbeat demeanor.

“This is just the beginning,” she said, her voice cheerful but slightly strained. “It’ll get better once we get settled in.”

I hoped she was right. For now, though, all I could think about was finding a cool, shaded spot and trying to regain some semblance of composure. The fantasy of a perfect summer seemed to be melting away as quickly as the ice in my now lukewarm drink.

I fumbled with the keys to the front door, my fingers slick with sweat. The lock was stubborn, refusing to cooperate as I struggled to get inside. My mom was at my side, trying to help but also looking equally overheated.

“Maybe I should have warned you about the heat,” she said, her voice strained but still optimistic. “It’s a bit of an adjustment.”

“I think ‘a bit’ is an understatement,” I managed to reply, finally pushing the door open and stepping into the cooler interior. The contrast was immediate, but the relief was short-lived as I realized the air conditioning wasn’t working properly.

“This is not how I pictured it,” I admitted, feeling my earlier excitement wane. The romanticized version of this trip was crumbling under the harsh reality of the Mediterranean heat and my physical discomfort.

My mom looked around, her face showing a mixture of apology and determination. “We’ll get it sorted,” she said. “Let’s just unpack and try to cool off. Maybe a cold shower will help.”

I nodded, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. I just hope the heat doesn’t turn this whole trip into a sweaty ordeal.” To foreshadow, it pretty much was like that the entire trip.

As soon as I stepped inside, the first thing that hit me was the chaotic array of shoes scattered haphazardly across the floor. There were sneakers, sandals, and flip-flops in a disordered spread as if a small army had shed their footwear in a hurry. The once inviting entrance now resembled a makeshift shoe rack, cluttered with mismatched pairs and abandoned shoes.

“Mama, it looks like we’re not the first ones here,” I said, my voice tinged with annoyance as I kicked aside a stray sandal. “It’s a mess.” I could feel my frustration mounting as I took in the scene. The once appealing idea of arriving at a neatly prepared vacation home now seemed overshadowed by the disorder and lack of preparation.

God, I hoped that whoever was here didn't make the whole place look like the dorm room of a stinky, smelly, teenage boy.

Mama quickly scanned the surrounding areas. “Oh, I didn’t realize. They must have arrived before us. They’re probably out exploring the city.”

“That’s just great,” I said, feeling a mix of irritation and resignation. “They’re already out having fun while we’re stuck schlepping our luggage.”

With a sigh, I grabbed two huge pieces of luggage and began dragging them up a narrow flight of stairs. Each step felt like a small victory, but the sweat pouring down my back made every movement feel like a monumental effort. I didn’t even know my butt could sweat that much. It was as if my entire body was engaged in a desperate battle against the oppressive heat. My clothes clung to me in a way that made me feel like a walking puddle.

Every few steps, I had to stop and catch my breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead and cursing under my breath. The heat inside the house, combined with the physical exertion, had me feeling utterly drenched. My damp hair stuck to my neck, and I could smell the distinct, unpleasant odor of sweat mingling with the heat.

“Can you believe this?” I called down to my mom, trying to keep my frustration in check while I heaved one suitcase up another step. “I’m already drenched, and we haven’t even started unpacking. I feel like I’m swimming in my sweat!”

“I’m sure it’ll be worth it once we get settled,” she said from below, her voice slightly muffled by the distance. “Just hang in there. Take that cold shower, aye? It’ll make you feel better.”

Her optimism was appreciated, but it did little to ease the burning frustration I felt. I finally managed to get both suitcases into our room and collapsed onto the bed, feeling utterly defeated. My legs felt like jelly, and I flopped down with a dramatic groan. The mattress, thankfully cooler than the air, felt like the only respite I’d had all day.

“I’m taking a shower,” I announced, my voice flat with exhaustion. “I need to cool off before I melt into a puddle. This heat is seriously getting to me.”

Grabbing all my toiletries in one hand (which would be moderately regrettable in approximately a minute), my phone and a towel haphazardly slung over my shoulder, I sped-walked to the nearest bathroom. My appearance was nothing short of disastrous: a loose beige bra that clung awkwardly to my sweat-drenched skin, and tightly fitted black spandex shorts that felt like they were melting into my sweaty legs. But, by golly, I was determined to take a shower. I assured myself that no one was there but Mama and me.

That is what I thought.

Clearly, that thought changed when I threw open the bathroom door to be met with a wall of steam and the startling sight of a pasty, pale chest belonging to a random white guy. In a comedy of errors, we collided headfirst into each other. He let out a yelp of surprise as I stumbled backward, dropping my toiletries and towel in the process.

“AHHH!” We both screamed in unison, our voices mingling in a perfect pitch of panic and disbelief. My phone slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor, the emergency contact screen flashing in alarm and my phone's flashlight being turned on as it bounced. The towel, now airborne, landed atop the guy’s head like a makeshift hat, which only made the situation more absurd. My toiletries, scattered like fallen soldiers, rolled across the tile in every direction.

In the frenzy, the guy’s shampoo bottle, which had been precariously perched on the edge of the sink, took a dive and exploded into a foamy mess, splattering us both with a thick layer of bubbles. I slipped on the slick tile, my foot skidding out from under me and sending me crashing into a pile of wet towels.

In the chaos, I tried to grab onto the nearest thing for support, which ended up being his bicep. My fingers closed around the surprisingly smooth and firm muscle, and I couldn't help but notice how it felt like a warm, solid rock under my touch. The unexpected contact sent a flush of heat to my cheeks, and I found myself blushing furiously as I tried to steady myself.

Never mind the sudden fucking romance, I was flailing and falling, and it was embarrassing as hell.

As I yanked on his arm, he lost his balance and we both went tumbling to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs, shampoo, and toilet paper. The sheer force of our combined weight caused the guy to slam into the opposite wall, sending a shower of misplaced toiletries and a small avalanche of cleaning supplies cascading down on us. We landed in an awkward, sprawled mess, my leg draped over his and his arm pinned beneath my back, all while the air was filled with the scent of minty shampoo.

"What the actual fuck," The weird white guy said. I was surprised to hear an Australian accent escape his mouth, quite different than the accents I heard every day.

"Who the fuck are you?" I exclaimed in disbelief, trying to stand up, but wincing because my head and bum hurt very much.

He groaned, trying to sit up and shift me off his chest. "I'm Oscar. From Australia."

"Oscar who?" I asked, still struggling to comprehend the situation while attempting to fix my disheveled hair.

“Oscar from Australia,” he deadpanned, his frustration evident. His wet hair, still dripping from his recent shower, clung to his forehead, adding to his slightly disheveled look. Despite his frown, which was more a mix of irritation and bemusement, there was something oddly cute about him. His features were sharp but softened by his annoyed expression, and his damp hair only added to his rugged charm. The heat of the bathroom made his skin glisten slightly, and the combination of his tousled hair and pouty frown gave him a kind of adorably exasperated vibe. "You know, as in the guy whose bicep you just clung to like a life raft in a storm."

"Well, excuse me, Oscar from Australia," I retorted, finally managing to get to my feet but still wobbly. "I didn’t exactly plan on meeting you in such a—uh—personal way."

Oscar smirked, flicking some shampoo suds off his hand. "Yeah, well, this wasn’t how I planned to greet my new neighbors either. I was expecting someone who could walk without tripping over thin air, but hey, I guess we can’t all be that lucky."

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. "Great. So not only am I dealing with a mess of shampoo and toiletries, but now I have to navigate an awkward introduction with some guy who thinks he’s important enough to be 'Oscar from Australia.'" I honestly did not give a fuck if he was called "Oscar from Bumfuck Nowhere" or "Oscar the Prince of Bahrain", he needed to chill the fuck out.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, still struggling to keep a straight face. "Well, you know, ‘Oscar from Australia’ doesn’t have a very high bar for first impressions apparently. But hey, at least you’ll remember me, right?”

I rolled my eyes, snatching my towel off his head. "Yeah, I’ll definitely remember you as the guy who managed to turn my bathroom break into an episode of slapstick comedy."

Wiping a loose tear that streamed down my face due to shampoo getting in my eyes, I continued. "I just wanted a goddamn shower after that long plane ride and the bloody heat from outside man. What the hell…" I drifted off.

Oscar’s face twitched between amusement and exasperation. Honestly, now that I am thinking about it, his countenance was definitely leaning more toward exasperation and frustration. "I’m sorry my ‘Australian charm’ is such a disaster for you. But you know, I wasn’t exactly planning on getting tackled by a very disheveled girl either."

I huffed, my arms crossed defiantly over my chest, and my posture was a rigid display of frustration. My shoulders were hunched slightly, and I tilted my head to one side, making it clear I was not in the mood for further nonsense. My face was a portrait of annoyance—my brows were furrowed deeply, and my lips were pressed into a thin line. A flush of irritation spread across my cheeks, and my eyes, which had been rimmed with the remnants of shampoo, glared at Oscar with unfiltered exasperation. Every muscle in my expression seemed to scream, "Seriously?" as I struggled to keep my composure amidst the chaotic aftermath of our unintended collision.

"Oh, so now I’m ‘disheveled’? You might have noticed I was in the middle of trying to clean myself up when you decided to become a human wrecking ball."

Oscar chuckled despite himself. "Look, I didn’t mean to turn your bath into a soap opera. It was an accident—just like your epic phone drop and shampoo explosion." The audacity of this guy to even put my "epic phone drop" in air quotes. What a comic. Haha, totally funny.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yeah, well, it’s not every day I get tackled by a random guy in the shower. Maybe you could’ve picked a less dramatic way to introduce yourself."

This "Oscar from Australia" guy was really starting to annoy me.

To be fair, I may have been escalating the whole thing because I truly do feel like a different person the moment heat washes over me. And this whole situation—sweaty, disheveled, and now dealing with a ridiculously charming yet infuriating Australian—was the cherry on top of my chaotic day.

Oscar shook his head, a smirk still tugging at his lips. "Well, if you ever need a more dramatic first impression, you know where to find me." With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone in the steamy mess of the bathroom.

The jokes on him, first impressions are first and quite permanent. They don't change.

As I stood in the shower, still reeling from our chaotic confrontation, I finally managed to get my shower running. The cool water cascading down my back felt like a small slice of relief after the sweltering heat and tension of the past few minutes. I glanced at my reflection in the misty mirror, trying to scrub away the remnants of shampoo and irritation. My hair, now a tangled mess of suds and frustration, clung to my face as I attempted to regain some semblance of dignity.

It struck me suddenly—amidst the chaos and embarrassment—that something had shifted within me. I had been more assertive and bold than I ever remembered being, and this unexpected encounter had stirred confidence in me I hadn't recognized before. I didn’t just let the situation unfold; I stood my ground, even if it meant facing down a charming yet infuriating Australian.

Blushing slightly, I scolded myself silently. Really? Hurling myself at a guy I just met the moment I get to Santorini? It was like I’d thrown my usual reserved self out the window along with my dignity.

This wasn't Love Island. And he certainly wasn't the steamy-hot Australian guy from Casa who would be able to woo my heart in mere milliseconds.

Sweet lord, Clementine told me to reset myself this vacation. I had singlehandedly managed to reset my personality in three minutes.

As I rinsed the last of the foam from my hair, a sudden pang of regret hit me. I had never actually told Oscar my name. How had I managed to skip such a basic part of an introduction amid our chaotic collision? The thought gnawed at me, adding another layer to my mortification.

To him, I was probably that weird, really sweaty, and kind of stinky vacation girl with a pissy attitude. Now I am not saying that that isn't a spot-on accurate description of me, but it kind of hurts that I didn't behave better.

A lack of decorum on both of our parts, I'll conclude.

I couldn’t help but replay the moment when I’d bumped into him—his rock-solid chest meeting mine with surprising warmth. My eyes had instinctively trailed down from his broad shoulders to the defined abs that quite literally were making eye contact with me. The firm, unexpected contact of his body against mine had sent a jolt through me, making me acutely aware of how close we’d been.

Even now, the memory of that fleeting contact made me blush deeper, and my face felt like it was on fire. The way his chest had felt—solid and warm—seemed to linger, leaving an imprint on my senses. I recalled how his abs had pressed against me, their tautness undeniable from even where I was standing. It was almost embarrassing how my eyes had involuntarily traced those contours, as if they were a new and intriguing landscape I had never seen before.

Ugh, what the fuck. I desperately needed a Facetime to debrief all of this confusing absurdity with dearest Clementine.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[official-cvntified-gay]

Can i get Sugar mommy Alcina? 😭🙏

Reader found her profile and fell inlove instantly, (because who wouldn't) and idk you can do whatever you want with the rest 😗

Thanks and loveeeeee your work so much!💞💞

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭? [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

❥warnings: smut, sugar realness, public sex

❥note: I am so sorry darling it took me so long to upload this, I gotta say, writing smut is so hard(I get all hot and bothered) on my knees to all smut writers, thank you for feeding us. And thank you anon and I hope you enjoy this filth<3

❥note: request is open<3

You had no intention of diving into a sugar relationship, but curiosity got the best of you one late evening as you scrolled through various profiles on a niche site. You weren't even seriously looking until she appeared on your screen.

Alcina Dimitrescu.

It was impossible to ignore the immediate impact she had on you. Her profile was captivating, her beauty mesmerizing, and her wealth? Well, it was obvious she didn’t need to flaunt it—her elegance spoke volumes. Standing taller than any woman you’d ever seen, her striking dark hair cascading down her back, sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, and the grace in her piercing gaze made you pause. The way she carried herself, even in a few photos, was magnetic.

A playful grin tugged at your lips. Why not? You thought as you typed a message, half-expecting not to hear back. But, to your surprise, it took mere minutes before a response pinged in.

"You’re quite bold to approach me, darling. Care for a drink tomorrow night?"

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you read it. Tomorrow? Alcina Dimitrescu wanted to meet you tomorrow night? The thought was dizzying.

The next evening, you found yourself dressed in your best, standing nervously in front of one of the most luxurious hotels in town. The butterflies in your stomach only worsened when a sleek black car pulled up, and the driver opened the door to reveal her.

Alcina stepped out gracefully, her figure impossibly tall, dressed in an exquisitely tailored black dress, her red lips curled into a knowing smile. You felt your pulse quicken as her golden eyes swept over you.

“Well, aren’t you just darling?” she said, her voice smooth like velvet, with an edge of amusement. “Shall we?”

You nodded, speechless, as she offered you her hand—cool, strong, and commanding. The touch sent shivers down your spine as she led you into the hotel, whisking you away to a private lounge that screamed exclusivity.

Conversation flowed easily, and though Alcina radiated power and grace, she was attentive, never making you feel lesser despite her imposing figure and wealth. There was undeniable chemistry—her eyes never straying far from yours, her voice laced with quiet seduction as she inquired about your life, your interests, all while making her intentions clear.

After that night, Alcina kept her promise, sweeping you into her world of luxury. But each encounter revealed more than just opulence. With every passing day, you started to see behind her controlled exterior. At first, she showered you with gifts—lavish dinners, designer clothes, and trips to private locations. Yet, amidst the grandeur, something in her softened.

Months passed, and your relationship with Alcina grew more profound and passionate. She wasn’t just spoiling you with her wealth anymore—though she did love to see you dressed in the finest clothes and accessories—but there was a deep connection between you two that transcended the material world. Her affection had shifted into something tender, something that felt like home. She had started trusting you with more of her personal life, and her once-impenetrable walls had crumbled in your presence.

One afternoon, Alcina decided to take you shopping in one of the most exclusive boutiques in town. She had mentioned a gala was coming up, and of course, you needed to be dressed to perfection for the event. As you entered the store, you were greeted by the staff as if you were royalty. Alcina’s commanding presence made it clear that this was no ordinary shopping trip—she wanted to spoil you, and nothing was off-limits.

Her eyes scanned the racks of elegant dresses, pausing at a sleek, black gown that immediately caught her attention. She turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I think I’ve found the one for you, darling,” she purred, holding the dress up for you to see.

The gown was stunning—long, with a dangerously high slit on one side that promised to show just enough to make hearts race. You could already feel Alcina’s eyes tracing the path that the dress would reveal.

“I’ll try it on,” you said, your heart already pounding.

The boutique’s fitting rooms were just as luxurious as the rest of the store, complete with velvet curtains and gilded mirrors. As you slipped into the dress, you could feel the fabric hugging your body in all the right places. It was a perfect fit—sensual and elegant, just the kind of look Alcina loved on you.

You stepped out of the fitting room to show Alcina, her gaze locking onto you immediately. Her golden eyes darkened with a familiar, smoldering intensity as she drank in the sight of you in the dress.

“Turn around for me,” she said, her voice low, but there was a fire beneath it.

You obliged, slowly turning so she could see every angle. The slit of the dress revealed the smooth curve of your thigh, and you could feel her gaze lingering there. The air between you grew thick with tension as she stood up, her towering form moving closer.

“You look exquisite,” she murmured, her fingers lightly brushing against the exposed skin of your thigh. The simple touch sent a jolt of heat through your body, and you swallowed hard, trying to focus.

Before you could say anything, Alcina’s hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. Her breath was hot against your ear as she whispered, “I can’t resist you like this.”

Her lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. You tried to keep your composure, but her proximity, her scent, the way her hands caressed you—it was overwhelming. The fitting room suddenly felt far too small for the desire crackling between you.

“We’re in public,” you managed to whisper, though your voice was shaky with need.

Alcina chuckled softly, her lips brushing against your earlobe. “Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?”

Before you could protest further, Alcina was guiding you back into the fitting room, pulling the curtain closed behind her with a swift motion. The space felt even more intimate with her towering figure crowding you against the mirror. She tilted your chin up, her golden eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.

Her lips crashed onto yours, and all thoughts of resistance vanished. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you melted into her touch, your hands gripping her shoulders as if to steady yourself. Her hands slid down the curve of your waist, fingers grazing the slit of the dress as she traced the bare skin beneath.

The heat between you was undeniable. Alcina’s touch was firm yet gentle, her lips moving against yours with a raw passion that sent waves of desire coursing through you. Her hands explored your body with practiced ease, and it wasn’t long before you were both lost in the moment, the world outside fading away.

Her lips left a burning trail down your neck, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the dress as she whispered against your skin, “I want you, here and now.”

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to form coherent words. You didn’t care that you were in a fitting room, or that anyone could walk in at any moment. All that mattered was the way Alcina made you feel—desired, cherished, and utterly consumed by her touch.

As the intensity between you deepened, her lips found yours once again, and you surrendered completely to the moment. The fitting room became your world, and Alcina was all you could think about—her touch, her scent, the way she made you feel like you were the only person that mattered.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she move your lacy panties to the side, teasing your clit with her feather like touches.

"I know, sweet girl." She coos as you whine at her teasing, she made sure you were nice and wet for her. She coats her fingers with your juices before finally inserting her fingers into your aching hole.

Her hand pat your head as you rest your forehead on her shoulder, biting your lips as you contain your moans and whimpers. “Shh, darling,” she whispered soothingly. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know, would we?” she gently pull your hair back as she asked you, all you could do was gave her a nod as another whimper escaped your lips.

"Leg up, sweet girl." she wrap your leg around her waist, giving her better access and her fingers going deeper, your head resting against the mirror as her fingers continued to thrust sporadically against your walls.

Eyes closed, lips bitten, strained moans and whimpers

This woman knows what she's doing and she does it so well.

"Everything alright in there ma'am?" Your body jolts in shock as the staff knocks on the door, Alcina immediately brings her hand around your mouth. Her fingers thrusting faster and curling simultaneously in that spot, she smiled as your eyes widen then rolled back.

"Everything's all good." She answered the woman calmly as you fell apart against her fingers, Alcina kiss your forehead as the woman kept talking.

"Alright ma'am, if you're settled with your dresses just come to the cashier and we'll assist you." The woman said, unaware of what's happening just a few steps from her. Sweats are forming on your forehead as you feel your whole body warming.

"We're definitely coming." Alcina removes her hand as the oblivious woman walk away. "Come for me darling." With that your whole body follow her sweet words, trembling against her fingers, high-pitched moans and whimpers left you while your cum drips down her fingers.

Legs shaking as she let you rode your orgasm before pulling out, stroking your hair as you catch your breath. Alcina whisper sweet words and encouragement to you, kissing you as she muttered how good you are for her. You rest your head on her shoulder, nuzzling your face on her neck as she stroke your back.

The world outside could wait. Here, in this moment, it was just the two of you, tangled in a web of desire and affection that felt both overwhelming and perfect. And as Alcina whispered your name against your skin, you knew that this was more than just a fling, more than just a casual romance.

This was something real. Something powerful. And you were all in.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Less 📱☕️

Alexia Russo x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You meet your online girlfriend "Less", only to discover she's secretly Alessia Russo, the famous footballer.

You sat in the café, sipping your drink, glancing nervously at the clock. Today was the day you were finally meeting her, the girl you had been talking to for months. She went by the name "Less" online, and you had hit it off from the start. It felt like you could talk to her about anything, and she had this charm that was impossible to resist.

But there was one thing that always nagged at you: Less never sent many personal photos. Sure, you had seen a few selfies here and there, but they were always casual, nothing overly revealing of her life. She claimed to be a private person, which you respected. After all, she made you feel safe enough to open up, and that was all that mattered, right?

You stared out the window, lost in thought when you heard the café door open. You turned instinctively, and your heart nearly stopped. Walking in was someone you never expected to see in a place like this.

Alessia Russo

You recognized her immediately. She was one of the brightest stars in women’s football, and you had seen her play countless times. But what was she doing here?

Before you could process the situation, she looked right at you, her eyes lighting up. She smiled, a smile you knew all too well. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion flooding your mind as Alessia Russo, the Alessia Russo, made her way toward your table.

“Y/N?” she asked softly, her voice familiar yet completely shocking.

You blinked, struggling to connect the dots. “Less?”

She grinned sheepishly, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Surprise.”

You sat there, speechless, your brain trying to catch up with what was happening. Less, the girl you had been talking to for months, your online girlfriend, the one who you thought was just a regular person, was Alessia Russo, one of the biggest football stars in the world.

“I... I don’t understand,” you stammered, your thoughts a jumbled mess. “You’re... you’re Alessia Russo?”

She shifted on her feet, a hint of nervousness in her expression. “Yeah, I know. I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to see me as... well, as ‘Alessia Russo the footballer,’ you know? I wanted you to get to know me.”

You stared at her, still processing the fact that the Alessia Russo was standing in front of you, the girl you’d grown close to, the one you’d shared so many personal moments with. And now, she was telling you she had been hiding this huge part of her life.

“I wanted to meet you like this, in person, so I could explain,” Alessia continued, sitting down across from you. “I’ve never done this before. I didn’t want my job or my career to change the way we talked.”

You could see the sincerity in her eyes, and it was hard to stay mad if you were even mad at all. Mostly, you were just shocked.

“So, all this time, you were hiding this?” you asked quietly, trying to make sense of it.

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yeah. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t want it to affect the way you saw me. I love football, but I wanted you to get to know Alessia, not ‘Russo.’”

You sat there, staring down at your coffee, feeling a mixture of emotions. It was hard to be angry, because in a way, you understood. Being Alessia Russo meant she had the world’s eyes on her. She didn’t get to live like a normal person most of the time, and she probably feared that once people knew who she was, everything changed.

“I get it, I think,” you said after a long pause. “It’s just... a lot to process. I didn’t think I’d be meeting a famous footballer today.”

Alessia chuckled softly, looking relieved that you weren’t storming off. “I’m still the same person you’ve been talking to for months, though. I still care about you the same way, and nothing’s changed in that department.”

You met her eyes, despite the shock, this was still the girl you had fallen for. The person who had made you laugh on long nights, who had listened when you needed to vent, who had shared parts of herself with you. That hadn’t changed.

“So... you’re not just some random girl who likes football,” you said, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

She laughed, her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, I guess not. I was going to tell you. I just wasn’t sure how.”

You leaned back in your chair, still processing everything but feeling a lot less overwhelmed. “It’s a bit crazy, but I guess I can’t be mad. You’re still my Less.”

Alessia’s smile grew wider, the tension finally easing between you two. “Exactly. And I’m really glad you came today. I’ve been wanting to see you in person for so long.”

Despite the whirlwind of emotions, you couldn’t help but smile back. “I’ve been wanting to see you too. Even if you did leave out one tiny detail.”

She laughed, looking at you with that soft, affectionate gaze you had come to know through your video calls. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shook your head, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders. “You better. But... I think I can forgive you, Alessia or should I still call you Less?”

“Call me Less” she said, reaching across the table to take your hand.

You squeezed her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch, and smiled softly.

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 1

SUMMARY: You’ve been feeling off—tired, anxious, and full of doubt. When the realization hits that you could be pregnant, your world shifts. As you struggle with the weight of the situation and avoid Jake, the truth becomes impossible to ignore. When you finally tell Jake, the conversation is filled with tension and fear.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST two more parts to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

It started as something small—just a slight sluggishness that you chalked up to long hours and a busy schedule. After all, everyone had days where they felt off, right? You didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe you hadn’t been drinking enough water or were pushing yourself too hard at the gym with the new workout routine you had taken up. But the fatigue lingered, heavier than usual. The exhaustion hit you mid-morning, the kind that left you wanting to crawl back into bed despite a full night’s sleep.

By day three, the headaches came. Sharp and persistent, not debilitating but enough to make focusing at work a struggle. You found yourself squinting at the screen, rubbing at your temples, wondering if your caffeine intake had anything to do with it. Coffee had always been your crutch, but suddenly it wasn’t helping. That in itself seemed odd—coffee usually gave you a little boost, but lately, it just left you feeling more nauseated than energized.

As you sat at your desk, half-listening to a Zoom meeting you were supposed to be engaged in, you absentmindedly reached for your phone. Flipping through your calendar, you skimmed the past couple of weeks, your thumb freezing as a realization crept in. You were late. Not by a lot—but enough to notice.

You glanced at the calendar again, frowning. Surely, it couldn’t be that. Your cycle was sometimes a day or two off. It wasn’t something to worry about. But still… you couldn’t shake the feeling, the quiet voice in the back of your mind that whispered that maybe this wasn’t just an irregular month.

No. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear the thought. You were on birth control. You and Jake had been careful. This was just your mind overreacting, connecting dots that weren’t there. But then a new thought slithered its way into your consciousness. A few weeks ago, you’d been sick—laid out with that stubborn cold. You’d gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics.

Antibiotics…

Your breath caught in your throat as you suddenly remembered the doctor’s warning. Something about your birth control being less effective. At the time, you’d been too focused on just wanting to feel better, not giving much thought to how the medication could affect anything else.

The nausea from your coffee earlier that morning felt more like a bad omen now.

You leaned back in your chair, your heart thudding a little harder in your chest. No. It couldn’t be that. You were just being paranoid. But now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The headaches. The exhaustion. The nausea from foods that had never made you nauseous before. Your pulse quickened as you stared at the calendar, connecting the dots. Could it really be? The thought hung there, weighty and terrifying. What if you were…?

The panic bubbled up, threatening to spill over, but you pushed it down. You needed answers, not speculation. You couldn’t keep spiraling like this. There was only one way to know for sure.

Without a second thought as soon as you were clocked out at 5:01pm, you grabbed your keys and purse, practically bolting for the door. There was a CVS just a few blocks away. The sooner you took the test, the sooner you could put this fear to rest.

As you hurried toward your car, your thoughts raced alongside you, a thousand different scenarios flashing in your mind. What if it’s positive? What would Jake say? Would he leave?

The short drive back to your apartment felt like miles, the little white CVS bag clutched in your hand felt heavier than it should have been. Each minute only magnified the gnawing uncertainty in your chest.

The moment you stepped through your front door, the cool air of your small apartment hit you, but it did little to calm the heat of your rising anxiety. You shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as if delaying what you knew you had to do would somehow make the looming possibility disappear.

Your heart raced as you walked to the bathroom, the test still tucked in its box as though keeping it sealed would keep the truth hidden a little longer. You set it on the counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You looked tired. Your skin was paler than usual, dark circles faintly visible under your eyes. Maybe you were just exhausted. You had been working on a project at work that had a pretty tight deadline. Maybe it was finally catching up to you. Maybe you were imagining all of this. Making up something that wasn't there.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from the mirror, reaching for the box. The sound of the packaging tearing open seemed too loud in the quiet apartment. You took one of the two pregnancy tests out and set it on the counter. Your hands trembled slightly as you read over the instructions, even though you didn’t really need them—you knew how this worked. Open the package. Pee on the stick. Wait. But reading them gave you a few more seconds before facing the truth.

You took a deep breath and finally did what needed to be done. Afterward, you placed the test down, careful not to look at it yet, and set the timer on your phone. You couldn’t bear to watch the lines form, so you forced yourself to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, pressing the heels of your palms into your knees, grounding yourself while you waited. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind raced, jumping between panicked thoughts and desperate rationalizations. There was no way. You and Jake had been careful, hadn’t you? You’d been taking birth control for years with no issues. And yet… there had been that one night, the night you felt better after being sick. You remembered how he had pulled you close, his warmth intoxicating after those few days of feeling terrible, his touch erasing the last of your discomfort. It had been one of those spontaneous moments, the kind you didn’t overthink. But now, it felt like maybe you should have.

The timer on your phone went off, snapping you out of your thoughts with a jarring sound. You inhaled sharply, your heart thudding hard against your chest as you reached for the test. With your hand trembling, you flipped it over, your breath catching in your throat.

Two pink lines stared back at you.

Your vision blurred as the world seemed to tilt for a moment. No. You blinked hard, clearing your eyes, then looked again.

Two pink lines.

You felt the floor drop out from under you, a heavy weight settling in your stomach. You set the test down, unable to keep looking at it, and hurriedly reached for the second test in the box. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you’d done something wrong. Hands shaking even more now, you repeated the process, this time pacing the bathroom as the second timer ticked down.

But deep down, you already knew.

The timer buzzed again, and with a knot tightening in your throat, you picked up the second test.

Two pink lines stared back at you, a confirmation you weren’t ready for.

You sat back down on the edge of the tub, the reality of it all sinking in, a cold rush of panic sweeping over you. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? 

Your thoughts went to Jake. How would he react? Would he freak out? Would he be upset? Would he leave? End things with you? Your chest tightened at the idea of telling him. You’d only been together a few months, and even though things were going well, you couldn’t help but feel that this would be too much, too soon.

You pressed your hands to your face, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind wouldn’t stop racing. Images of Jake flashed through your mind—his charming smile, the way he’d pull you into his arms without a second thought, the lighthearted banter that had drawn you to him. Your relationship was going strong. But was that enough? Were you enough? Would it be enough to survive something as life-changing as this?

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you quickly wiped them away. Crying wouldn’t help. You needed to think, to figure out what you were going to do next. But your thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear, uncertainty, and—oddly enough—a tiny flicker of something else. Something you didn’t want to admit. Hope.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought aside. This wasn’t how things were supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be feeling this lost, this scared, not when the rest of your life could be so drastically altered by a couple of pink lines.

But there was no denying it now. You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what to do next.

The next morning, the reality of what had happened still weighed heavily on you. It had settled in overnight, creeping into your mind every time you closed your eyes, so sleep was hardly an escape. You lay in bed longer than usual, staring at the ceiling, the events of yesterday playing on a loop. The two pink lines. Your pounding heart. The panic that had taken root in your chest, now a constant, gnawing ache.

But beyond the overwhelming fear of your situation was an even greater question: Jake. How were you going to tell him? Or… should you even tell him yet?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you out of your thoughts. You didn’t have to check to know who it was. Jake had sent a text earlier in the morning—a simple “Good morning” with a smiley face—and you had left it unanswered.

Now, a second message appeared, more direct this time:

Jake: You okay? Haven’t heard from you.

You swallowed hard, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t know how to talk to him without the weight of your secret making everything feel wrong. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard as your mind scrambled for something—anything—normal to respond with.

You: Yeah, sorry. Been busy.

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt settling in your chest as you hit send. You hated how distant the response felt, hated how you couldn’t bring yourself to say more. But what could you say?

The seconds stretched on before your phone buzzed again.

Jake: Busy? You trying to avoid me?? ;)

The words on the screen were playful, a light jab that might’ve made you smile any other day. But today, it only made you feel worse. He was catching on. Jake always had a knack for reading people, and now he was reading you, seeing right through your weak attempts to act normal.

You set your phone aside, deciding not to answer for now. You’d figure out what to tell him later. But for now, you just needed space. Space to think. Space to process. Space to make sense of the storm that had taken over your mind.

The day dragged on, and you kept your distance. Every time your phone buzzed with a message from him, your anxiety spiked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to respond beyond brief, one-word replies. You were trapped in this bubble of avoidance, knowing full well that it wasn’t sustainable but unable to break free of it just yet.

Later that evening the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over The Hard Deck as you stepped inside. The familiar sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but they felt distant, almost muffled, as you made your way to the bar. 

Jake was already there, leaning against the counter, chatting with a few of the guys. His laughter rang out, and your heart sank a little. How could you keep this secret from him when he looked so carefree?

“Hey, you made it!” Jake grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached out to pull you closer. You forced a smile in return, feeling the weight of your secret settle heavily on your chest.

You settled onto a barstool beside him, ordering a Diet Coke, the bubbly drink a stark contrast to the cold beer he and the others were enjoying. As Penny placed your drink in front of you, Jake’s gaze narrowed slightly.

“Diet Coke?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not feeling under the weather? I thought you’d be grabbing a beer with me.”

“Just not in the mood for one tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Come on, it’s Thursday night! You can’t tell me you don’t want to kick back with a cold one.” He leaned in closer, a playful grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.”

You chuckled lightly, but it felt forced. “I just have a lot on my mind with that project deadline tomorrow I told you about.”

“Just thinking about work, huh?” he asked, his voice low, laced with concern. 

You nodded, a little too quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in your hand as you raised the glass to your lips. 

Later that night after beating Rooster and Bob in games of pool Jake made his way back over to where you were still sitting on the bar stool. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight. You sure you’re okay?” He said as he put his hand on your back and began gently rubbing it.

“I’m fine,” you replied, a little too rehearsed, the words falling from your lips like an empty promise. “Just a lot on my mind with that deadline tomorrow.”

“Right.” He nodded, though the frown on his face told you he wasn’t entirely convinced. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer, but instead of the warmth you usually felt, you tensed.

You could feel him studying you, as if he were searching for something just beneath the surface. His touch, usually comforting, felt heavy now. “You’re not really laughing tonight,” he pointed out, the concern in his tone deepening. “I mean, that joke from Phoenix was hilarious, and you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Jake tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “You sure that’s all? Because it feels like something else is going on.”

You swallowed hard, the truth lingering just beneath your tongue. He deserved to know, but the thought of revealing your pregnancy sent waves of panic coursing through you. Instead, you looked down at your drink, tracing your finger over the rim of the glass. “Really, Jake. I’m just... thinking about everything.”

“Okay, but you know I’m here for you, right?” His voice softened, and you could see the worry etched across his features. “If you need to talk, just say the word. I can take you home. We can go back to my place. Whatever you want.”

You nodded again, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I know. I appreciate it.”

The night wore on, and the laughter and camaraderie around you seemed to grow louder while you felt more isolated in your thoughts. As Jake tried to draw you back into the fold, the distance between you only seemed to widen. Each time he reached out, you instinctively pulled away, hiding the truth that threatened to spill from your lips.

You were trapped in a delicate dance, and with each passing moment, the weight of your secret pressed heavier against your chest. You took a deep breath, knowing that soon, you’d have to face him. But for now, all you could do was keep the facade intact, holding on to the last threads of normalcy before the storm would break.

When Jake asked you to meet him at The Hard Deck the following evening, your heart sank. He was trying, reaching out to spend time with you like always, but the idea of seeing him, pretending that everything was normal, felt impossible. Your chest tightened as you typed out your reply.

You: Can’t tonight. Sorry.

You could almost imagine the confusion on his face as he read your message. Normally, you would’ve jumped at the chance to meet up with him, to sit at the bar with him, sharing drinks and flirty comments. But not tonight. Not now.

You spent the evening in your apartment, pacing, thinking. The truth was suffocating you, and the longer you put off telling him, the worse it became. But fear gripped you every time you thought about saying the words out loud. What if this changed everything? What if Jake didn’t want this? What if he… walked away?

The knot in your stomach twisted tighter at the thought. You tried to shake it off, tried to reassure yourself that you were overthinking things, but the fear wouldn’t let go.

You didn’t know Jake’s thoughts on kids, on the future, on anything beyond the easy, carefree nature of your fairly new relationship. And now, this could upend everything.

When your phone buzzed again later that night, you ignored it. You couldn’t deal with it. Couldn't deal with him. Not yet.

But avoiding Jake was harder than you expected.

The next evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, you heard a knock on your door. Your heart skipped a beat. For a moment, you froze, staring blankly at the door. Who would be at your door right now?

Another knock. Louder this time.

Your pulse quickened as you pushed yourself up from the couch and made your way toward the door. You peered through the peephole, and your stomach dropped.

It was Jake.

You hesitated, every muscle in your body suddenly tense. He had come to see you. Maybe he was worried. Or maybe he was just tired of your evasiveness. You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was here, standing on the other side of your door, and you had to face him.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked the door and slowly opened it. There he was, standing in the hallway, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets, his usual easygoing smile playing on his lips. But there was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to meet your eyes.

He leaned in slightly as if to kiss you. Instinctively, you took a small step back, the distance between you immediately noticeable.

Jake’s smile faltered.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern. He tilted his head, studying your face. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. Didn’t even want to meet me at the Hard Deck tonight. That’s not like you.”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve just… been busy,” you muttered, knowing how weak it sounded.

“Busy. Right. Well, your deadline at work was up at 4:59, so what's your excuse now?” Jake repeated, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Are you avoiding me? Is something wrong?”

Your chest tightened as he pushed, his words cutting through your thin layer of avoidance. He wasn’t letting this go. And you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, avoiding eye contact. “It’s nothing.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “You sure about that?” His voice was firmer now, the playful edge gone. “Because this isn’t you. You've barely texted me all week. Then you acted like you were trying to avoid me like the plague last night at the bar. You blew me off tonight, and now… what? You’re acting like you don’t even want me here?” He paused and just looked at you, shaking his head. "Do you want me here? Do you want me to leave?"

The guilt hit you like a tidal wave, and you could feel your emotions starting to bubble to the surface. You tried to swallow it down, to push the panic aside, but it was too much. The pressure was too much.

“Jake, I—” You stopped, biting your lip as your vision blurred with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “I just… I don’t know how to—”

He took a step forward, his voice softening again. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It's just...you're scaring me, babe. You're making me think you're trying to hide something. Just talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out. But don’t shut me out like this. ”

You blinked, fighting back the tears. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to tell him. But fear kept your throat tight, the words trapped inside.

He reached for your hand, his touch gentle, and grounding, but even that felt too much right now.

You pulled away, stepping back toward the living room.

“I… I don’t know if I can do this right now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jake frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Can’t do what?”

You knew you couldn’t avoid the truth much longer. 

“Jake, I’m pregnant.” you blurted out, your voice breaking. The words spilled out before you could stop them.

The room went completely still. For a moment, Jake didn’t react, his expression frozen in surprise as if he hadn’t quite processed what you had just said.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I took a test a few days ago. It was positive.” The words felt heavy, hanging in the air between you, and you could barely look at him. “I didn’t know how to tell you… I didn’t even know how to deal with it myself.”

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, as Jake stood there, his gaze locked on you. You could see the shock in his eyes, the way his mind seemed to be working through what you had just revealed. Your stomach twisted in knots, the fear bubbling up again. You had no idea how he was going to react. No idea what this meant for the two of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped back, processing. His face was unreadable, and the silence between you became unbearable.

“I… I didn’t see that coming,” he said finally, his voice low and rough around the edges.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look at him. “Neither did I,” you whispered, your throat tight. “I’ve been freaking out, Jake. I didn’t know how to handle this. I didn’t know if I should tell you, or if you even—”

He held up a hand, stopping you mid-sentence. “Wait… did you think I wouldn’t want to know? Were you thinking about not telling me?”

His tone wasn’t angry, but it was laced with disbelief, and you realized what you had implied. Your heart clenched as you met his gaze, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

“I didn’t know what to think,” you admitted, your voice shaking as tears started to form in your eyes. “I was scared, Jake. I still am. I don’t know what this means for us, or for anything.”

Jake took a deep breath, his eyes softening as he stepped toward you. His hand reached out, gently taking yours, his touch warm and steady. “Baby, I get that this is… huge. It’s not something either of us expected. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words sent a wave of relief washing over you, but the fear was still there, lingering at the edges. You had been so caught up in your panic that you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope for this—that Jake wouldn’t run, that he wouldn’t leave you to handle this alone.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Because I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

Jake squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what the future holds, and yeah, this is scary as hell. But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight of his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for the first time in days, you felt a sliver of hope break through the fear. You weren’t alone in this. Jake wasn’t going to leave.

The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally broke free and started to roll down your cheeks as you looked at him, the emotion finally overwhelming you.

“I was so scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you’d want this. If you’d want me.”

Jake’s expression softened even further, and without a word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt as the reality of everything finally hit you. But this time, it didn’t feel as crushing. With Jake’s arms around you, it felt just a little bit lighter.

“This isn't your fault, baby. We both made this baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady. “We’re in this together.”

You stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in his embrace, the fear still there but no longer as suffocating. With Jake by your side, you knew you could face whatever came next.

For the first time since seeing those two pink lines, you allowed yourself to believe that everything might just be okay.

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Epilogue = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13 — Part 14 — Part 15 — Part 16 — Epilogue (here)

Charlie’s face grimanced as she watched Alastor and Husk at your services whenever. Even Angel was comfortable around you now. Her stare shy away the moment your head turned to her direction, even though your eyes were closed, she could feel that she made eye contract with you. You gave her the same soft and gentle smile with a nod, she nodded back but her eyes lips pressed to a tight line. 

She moved when she heard the lift ding to signal its arrival, she got in and pressed her desired floor, looking out as the doors closed at the press of a button. Her eyes met yours as the doors slowly closed like time was slowed or paused, the longest wait of her life was this. You maintained your stared until your attention was called away and Charlie immediately let out a sigh of relief. 

The dear princess steadied herself, she has to do something. She was the one that brought along this hotel, she was the one that brought along all her friends, she was the one that survived that hellish experience with the exterminators. So why was it that the moment you arrived that she felt a change? Saw a change.

She knew she wasn’t enough, that there was more to do as the Princess of Hell. She lacked so much that her people hardly see her as the Princess, the heir to the throne. When she saw your commanding presence in action, she thought she could learn from you. Yet, she found herself unable to get close to you. 

She saw how Alastor was always with you, treating you in a way that was never shown before your arrival. She saw how Husk was more actively attentive without that sharp edge in his tone and words. She saw how Angel was more respectful and mindful of his words and actions, being more open and kinder like a cageless bird. She saw how Vaggie was less angry and tense, even with new guest, also having at least a small smile on her face. She also saw how much more cheerful her father, Lucifer, was after your arrival.

And Niffty was Niffty but more tamed, if one could believe it.

These were all things she wanted to do, things she was aiming to help them change. Granted, she knew it’d take some time to achieve, but that’s what the journey will teach them, that things take time to change. She just can’t understand how you brought along this change in the short amount of time you were here. She saw what you have accomplished without even trying to be impossible. A miracle.

“Dad, you got some time?” Charlie knocked on the door to Lucifer’s workshop, another renovation that you granted to her hotel along with a few other special rooms after your identity was revealed by Lucifer. “Can we talk?”

Charlie flinched as she heard stuff fall and crash behind the door, then she could make out her father stumbling to the door before it opened and Lucifer was standing there with an awkward but excited smile, “Charlie! Of course! Come in, come in.” Lucifer moved to the side to let his daughter enter and closed the door behind her, “Weird that you’re free to chat. Ah, not that I’m not happy or bu- I mean, don’t you usually have some friendship or moral class now?”

“Uh… Well, The Coll- Silver offered for a day off for me since I’ve been working too hard and everyone else agreed. Husk’s teaching everyone to be careful for themselves and others, you know, like lies and tricks?” Charlie felt like she was choking as she admitted that, it was like she was slacking off, like her purpose was being taken from her.

Lucifer sighed, bringing Charlie to sit down at a tea table and sat down himself. With a snap of his fingers, drinks and snacks appeared on the table. He pushed a cup to Charlie before sipping on one himself. His smile dropped as he noticed the obvious frown on her face. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Why are there so many changes after Silver came to the hotel?” Charlie blurted out, Lucifer blinked before getting to respond or given the chance to, Charlie continued, “Not that the changes are bad, but they are the changes I thought I can do it with time. Hell’s my home, this hotel and everyone here is my family and friends, I thought… I thought I can finally pull my weight and help… You know, do my part and be the Princess of Hell.”

“Charlie, you need to understand.” Lucifer got up and went to her, kneeling down so that he was looking up at her, “The throne was never ours.”

The princess gasped. “Then why—”

“We’re only given the title. It means nothing to anyone other than the Sinners.” Lucifer explained, “You never been to the other Rings, but there, you’d be no more than a minor significant figure. We only manage the Sinners, the souls sent to Hell after death, we’re the King and Princess of Sinners. Not of Hell.”

“Then who…”

“Charlie, you’re important to me and I know redemption and this hotel is important to you. But like I told you before, you can’t protect anything without power and authority, you can’t change anything with those as well.” Lucifer got up and opened his six wings, “We’re given this title to protect ourselves, Lilith and I, it never extended to you because you were never there in the beginning when the words were spoken. It was never agreed that our place will be taken over by an heir.”

Charlie got up, feeling like everything was being taken away from her, “So what. Am I nothing now? I can’t amount to anything?”

Lucifer held her hands in his, giving her an encouraging smile, “No. I never mean that. All these changes you’re seeing means potential and interest in rising you to be the next Queen. Teacher doesn’t throw away anyone.” He chuckled, “I had nothing when I came here, Lilith too, but Teach gave us so much. Teach is also giving you so much too. Where this hotel is built, this land was untouched the moment you were born. Until you said to move out, this land is yours.”

Charlie blinked, her heart ached as her eyes pooled up, “Then I’m not being thrown away? I’m not..”

“Never. Everything Teach may be, Teach isn’t pure evil. Otherwise,” Lucifer smiled brightly, “We’d all be dead where we stand.”

Charlie chuckled along, but then froze, “Wait, but then, that means Silver’s the real… Oh my… But you tell me all this, aren’t you in—?!”

Lucifer patted Charlie’s hands, “These are secrets meant for your ears now, Teach said when you ask then I can tell, it was time you knew. Because more challenges will be coming for you in the future.”

.

.

.

“The Princess is ready for her test. For this stage, it’s vital for her to grow. To do that, we need some fiction. Between the hotel and the new Overlords.” You turned to the three kneeling Overloards behind you. “The former Vees and Alastor. Your history with each other, Vox and Alastor, would be of great help.”

Alastor, Vox and Velvette all raised their heads as they meet your attention.

“I won’t disappoint, My Sovereign.”

“I’ll do as you command, My Sovereign.”

“Everything will be as you wish, My Liege.”

Note: Okay. This is really really the final part. Say bye bye to this series everyone. I have no idea if it will continue when Season 2 is up cause of all the changes I did for this series. Thanks for sticking by this story till the end everyone.

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

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[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Polyphemus

Hey guys! The first chapter of the Cyclops saga is here!!!

Tags: @myfairkatiecat @ham-cheese-toastie @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @justalunaticfangirl (let us know if you want to be tagged in the future!)

After Athena faded away, Fitz’s vision sharpened back to reality. They were approaching an island, and even from this far away, the whole fleet could hear the Bla-ah-ah-ah! Blah-ah-ah-ah! of the sheep. There must be hundreds, just grazing peacefully, unaware of the men docking below them. 

There was a bit of a climb to reach the fields, but it was so, so worth it. Fitz transmitted orders to the small crew he had taken up with him, not wanting to disturb the tranquil silence. They obeyed, silently killing enough sheep to feed the crew for at least a month.

Keefe whispered, “I have to hand it to you and Dex. This is quite the treat.”

Fitz leaned closer, “I don’t trust this. Why would the lotus-eaters pass up on all of this food?”

Suddenly the ground started to shake beneath the sailors’ feet. Thump! Thump! Thump! 

Were those…footsteps? 

“Who are you?” An impossibly deep rumbling voice asked. Dread crept into Fitz’s mind, but he pushed it aside. He had to show this monster that he wasn’t afraid of it. 

Stay calm! Fitz transmitted his group. They nodded, hands ready to grab their weapons. 

“Hey there!” Fitz shouted. “We come in peace. We’re just travelers looking for food.” The monster wasn’t in sight yet, so Fitz really hoped it wasn’t getting mad.

“You killed my sheep.” It was a statement, not a question. “These were my favorite sheep. What gives you the right to deal me this pain?

“Don’t you know that the pain you cause others will be reflected upon yourself? Your life is in MY hands now.”

The monster slowly lumbered into sight. It was a Cyclops. But not just any Cyclops….

This was Polyphemus, the biggest of the beasts to walk the earth. His giant– singular– eye glared down at the mortals. Fitz could imagine the sound of his army being crunched in his massive jaw. His teeth were pointed to a sharp edge, and–was that dried blood? He hoped not. 

“When I’m through with you, you’ll regret ever setting foot on my island. You came to my home to steal, and now you’ll become my meal. A trade, you see? I’ll take from you like you took from me.”

“There’s been a misunderstanding! We never came here to steal! Now that we know these sheep were yours, perhaps you and I can make a deal? I’ll give you our finest treasure, as long as you let us leave here alive!” He called. Polyphemus loomed over him, considering.

“What is this treasure?” He boomed. 

“The world’s best-tasting wine!” Fitz answered. Keefe glanced over, confusion in his ice-blue gaze. 

Fitz took a moment to say, Trust me. I know what I’m doing, before turning back to the Cyclops. 

“Wine?” the beast said suspiciously.

Fitz pulled the bottle from his satchel, handing it to the monster. The bottle was barely as big as Polyphemus’s finger, but he still looked delighted.

“Have a drink!” Fitz said, “Take one sip and you’ll understand how lucky you are to have this. It’s wine so fresh, you’ll never want to eat human flesh again!”

Polyphemus downed the bottle in one sip, hurling the glass into the sea when he was finished. 

“Now we’ll be on our way with no blood spilled here today,” Fitz said. Keefe looked like he couldn’t believe that had actually worked, and Fitz had a similar feeling.

“Wait! Before you go I must ask you: What is your name?”

Fitz panicked. He couldn’t tell the beast the truth. So he raised his head and calmly said, “My name is Nobody.”

“Nobody,” Polyphemus repeated slowly. “I must pay you back for this gift.”

“I’m so glad we see eye to eye,” Fitz said with a smile. 

“Yes, you shall be the final man to DIE.”

“What?” Fitz asked, shock quieting his voice. A moment later, Polyphemus stepped closer to the crew. Fitz got a sinking feeling in his gut. Keefe glanced at his captain, clearly trying to ask “What are we going to do?” without words.

Fitz only had one answer. As loud as he could, he screamed, “WATCH OUT!”

[kiwidotcom]

😓😓😓

[feralsneeze]

Not sneeze just mental health rambling in the tags

[psychoticwillgraham]

went to trade in some cards earlier today and the 20 year old guy that has a massive crush on me saw me walk in and immediately went ‘you look pretty today’ and blurted it out and started blushing and ngl it was super cute

[aberooski]

Luke's song Diamonds is hitting me a little too hard and close tonight.

[heliophaestus]

i know how much it sucked but i do sometimes wish i still felt anxiety about day to day interactions

[ikeuverse]

I HATE YOU — l.heeseung

PAIRING: best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, smut  WC: 10.7k+

WARNINGS: lots of swearing, arguments, mention of drinking, parties. reports of sex scenes, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (use caution and protection).

SYNOPSIS: you and your best friend's brother hated each other, almost as a matter of course between the two of you. but something changes when you wake up in his bed at the weekend.

NOTES: i think this story has been in my subconscious for so long, idk why it took me so long to write it. it smells a lot like heeseung to me, so nothing was more fitting than doing it for him. i hope you like it!

masterlist

The rule of life is clear when you have a best friend and she has an older brother. Either you fall in love with him, or you don't get along with him and you both hate each other. In your case, more specifically, the second option would fit like a perfect glove. It was like a combo in your background to be best friends with Dahyun, and hate Heeseung, her brother. Not that you'd do it alone, he contributed to every ounce of your body boiling with rage for him.

As if he had been born to unleash the purest feeling of rage in your heart just by entering the room and breathing. But it wasn't as if you nurtured that alone either. Heeseung had the same great anger towards you because, according to him, it was because of you that Dahyun stopped being the innocent little girl she was.

It wasn't a good excuse compared to the times he'd taken you seriously. Still, even so, Heeseung felt angry just being in your presence and knowing that you went to his house and he couldn't do anything but make you angry until he heard you swear at him or try to throw something in his direction. Dahyun was the balance bridge to try to maintain an ounce of harmony between the two of you while you were all together, although it was almost impossible to maintain a pleasant atmosphere whenever you and Heeseung were in the same environment. Which was practically all day long.

There wasn't a single moment when you could get rid of him or he of you, because unfortunately – or fortunately – you were Dahyun's best friend. You met her before you even knew that your best friend had a completely asshole brother. He swore that Dahyun having a friendship would be a quiet thing because she was never one to have many friends. Heeseung would be lying to say that he wasn't looking forward to meeting the first person his younger sister had befriended after entering university.

He just didn't expect you to be introduced to him when Dahyun had her first binge at the frat party, with you holding her hair and introducing yourself as her best friend.

So it's this crazy girl who's my sister's friend? Heeseung's anger may have started first, but you certainly felt it more intensely as the months went by.

Heeseung always found you with Dahyun at insane moments, like the pool party where you lent your best friend your most revealing bikini. That night you threw him into the pool because you two argued, but before you could regret it, he pulled you in with him, getting you wet before you could show off your hours of hard work to maintain the beautiful, wavy hair that took so long to make.

War had been declared, and at every party you and Heeseung attended, something always happened to emphasize how the two of you couldn't stay on the same radar and in the same environment for so long.

Not this last time.

The remnants of last night invaded your mind like a little dream, where you knew it was far from a fantasyland. Friday night was party day at some frat house or at some rich person's house who could afford to buy drinks for a bunch of horny, partying college kids. You and Dahyun always went together, because at the end of the night, you would sleep at her house. And of course that happened. You just didn't expect to be in another Lee's bed.

You took a deep breath after you realized what had happened, remembering the exact moment when you argued with Heeseung. Nothing new for the two of you. But that night something seemed different about the way you and he argued about absolutely everything, like the amount of drink he poured himself. Or how you had accepted a drink from a guy who had handed you a glass because he was going to play and didn't want to drink anymore, Heeseung had scolded you for being reckless and, even if you were, if that had made him angry, then you had done the right thing.

But why were his eyes dark and shiny when he cornered you in the kitchen to swear at you? And why did you lean too far towards him when he tried to take the glass from your hand? The reason was canonized at that moment, with you wrapped in Heeseung's sheets.

The memory of his lips pressing down hard on yours to shut you up, your body almost turning to porridge when he softened to kiss you properly. And why on earth did you give in? Why did you kiss him back looking like you needed it? Your mind knew you did, but never, under any circumstances, would the two of you say that that need was blatant and that you were both waiting for what had happened.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a weight slid around your waist. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you close. You effortlessly felt Heeseung's chest pressing against your back. Your whole body stiffened for a few seconds but relaxed – without any explanation – when his hand rested on your stomach and his breath hit the back of your neck.

That breath you felt against your lips after he kissed you, as he whispered one last curse when he took you to his car and then brought you to his house. Heeseung's breath against your skin with every touch he made, with every kiss, sent shivers down your spine. You didn't want to think about the effects he had caused in just one night, while all those months later the only thing you felt for him was anger and disgust. But no, last night it was anything but that that you felt for each other.

You began to wonder how you were going to get out of there. Or worse, how you were going to bump into Dahyun and explain to her that, strangely enough, you had ended up in her brother's bed. It couldn't have been an accident because neither of you got drunk enough to blame it on alcohol, so what? What would you say when asked why you slept with Heeseung?

An involuntary sigh left your lips when he moved again, pressing you a little closer and nestling his face in the crook of your neck. Inhaling all your scent as if it were normal and he'd done it a million times before.

“It's not possible that you're actually doing this” your voice came out without thinking, not at all cordial or subtle as he continued to inhale your scent. You wanted to curse yourself even more as soon as you heard Heeseung's morning laugh. Rude, low, a real sin for your poor body that was processing everything that was still going on.

“What? I don't even get a good morning?” he asked in the same tone as the laugh and every word coming out of his mouth was truly a sin. You'd seen Heeseung after waking up countless times, but it wasn't as if you saw him seconds later as was happening now. Usually, it was a while later, his voice was normal at least, although his face was puffy from sleep and his hair slightly mussed. But it was nothing compared to what you were hearing at that moment.

“You're an idiot, you little shit” your hand went over his hand that was still on your stomach, trying to pull it away “I hate you, now let me go.”

As expected, Heeseung did the opposite of what you asked. Pulling you closer to him and, with the strength he was holding you with, he managed to turn you around and make your body face him.

“You hated moaning my name last night” he smiled with half-lidded eyes “Now why are you playing hard to get?” there was the Heeseung you remembered hating, even though he was so hot in a sleepy, lazy way. You held back with your hands to pull his face in and kiss him, messing up his hair even more and getting lost in those lips that were claimed as yours last night.

“Because—” your voice died right there, you had no answer to that. You didn't know why you were playing hard to get after having slept with him of your own free will.

The victorious smile on Heeseung's lips made you slap his chest, feeling the skin beneath your fingers. Remembering how you touched him and how he felt every shiver go through him every time your fingers slid across him and interspersed with your nails. Heeseung knew that some part of his body was marked by you, but he honestly didn't care.

Your eyes rolled down as soon as you noticed that he was shirtless, looking under the covers as much as you could. He wasn't wearing anything over it and didn't even seem to care about covering his chest when your eyes locked on the spot, your hands still gripping his chest ready to slap it again in case any silly jokes were made. But your face heated up when you noticed that, if he wasn't wearing a T-shirt, you were wearing his.

Heeseung noticed the way you recorded it all, and although it was amusing, he remembered how hot you had looked after putting on his T-shirt to sleep. With nothing underneath, just his clothes covering the curves of your body that he touched, kissed, and marked. And he'd be a dead man if he confessed that he wanted to do it all over again.

“You didn't like wearing my shirt?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you “Just take it off, I remember you're not wearing anything underneath anyway.”

“I hate you!” you let out a shriek, hitting him in the chest again before pulling the covers off your body so you could get out of bed in search of your clothes.

“Right, if it makes you sleep better at night, then I hate you too” he muttered, rolling his body across the bed to lie where you had been seconds before. Secretly smelling your scent on his pillow, as you searched for your clothes on his bedroom floor at that moment.

Hearing about the fine line between modern and contemporary art history was wonderful for you, one of your favorite classes. The grace with which the professor explained it so passionately, highlighting important points that you made a point of writing down in your notebook with a lilac-colored pen that Dahyun had lent you at the beginning of the class. It took up most of your thoughts from the moment you arrived on campus, taking your focus away from the fact that a few days ago you were lying on Heeseung's bed. And now you were sitting next to his sister sharing one of your classes.

Your thoughts traveled to another subject now… Did Dahyun know that you and Heeseung had had sex? It wouldn't be something to hide from your best friend, having heard from her a few times that the two of you had some kind of repressed hard-on. Of course, that made you and Heeseung even angrier, but it turned out to be true last weekend.

Dahyun was right, after all, and you didn't want her to be. Or did you?

“Y/n” she called your name in a whisper, making you turn your head to face her “The boys are waiting for us in the study room, do you want to go now or do you want to stop by for coffee?”

Back to the normal schedule where you would have to live with Heeseung and try to put aside what had happened between the two of you. Or at least try to. Carry on with your routine and chores and not pay attention to him like you always did.

Class ended and you felt your body dragging alongside Dahyun through the corridors to the campus cafeteria. It wasn't a long way, but dividing your energy between the class and the thoughts that flooded your mind had left you tired. The salted caramel coffee you always ordered might have some effect on your body right now.

And you were more than right.

After paying for the drink and some treats, the straw rolled around your lips as you sipped the drink that was your comfort. You could hear Dahyun's laughter every time the taste of coffee impregnated your tongue and you moaned with satisfaction. The whole way to the study room was filled with these moments that the two of you shared as you sipped your drinks and tried to balance the takeaway bags.

“Am I seeing a mirage or did you bring food?” Jay almost knelt to thank you and Dahyun when you entered the study room.

“Are you guys hungry or something?” she asked, stepping in front and placing the bag of food on the small table around some cushioned armchairs.

“Our class finished early and someone forgot to stop by the convenience store” Sunghoon sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face almost shoved into one of the bags to look for something that interested him. Finding a filled brownie, he took it without asking permission, even though he didn't need to.

“He's in over his head, isn't he?” Jake nudged Heeseung, who had been quiet the whole time since you and Dahyun arrived.

Looking at your best friend, you saw her sit down next to Jake as if it were something mechanized as if she had to be there without any kind of effort. It was cute how close the two of them always were. But your mind went into overdrive because as she sat next to him, the only seat left was next to Heeseung.

“What?” he asked, shaking his body at the slight shock Jake had caused him. Adjusting his posture in the armchair, Heeseung swallowed as soon as he felt a weight next to him, indicating that you had sat there.

“You forgot to stop by the convenience store to pick up some food” Jay grumbled “What are you thinking, man? You haven't answered us since you came to class today.”

Playing the misunderstood had been a mutual agreement with everyone in the room. They had seen you and Heeseung leave together, but if neither of you had mentioned anything, none of them would do it. Playing the game of not knowing anything about you and him was the best thing. At least until that moment.

“I'm just sleepy, don't fight me” Heeseung grumbled, stretching more than usual so that he could annoy you, as he had done ever since the two of you met. He could hear you taking a deep breath next to him, holding back a little so as not to swear at him before the study session even started.

Heeseung mentally thanked his friends for the lame excuse he'd given, because they all started to engage in side conversations as he slipped a glance in your direction. Your fingers held the coffee cup with a certain lightness, your thumb circling the cardboard that was possibly warm against his skin. Heeseung suppressed a smile, thinking about how your fingers had touched his body a few days ago.

He didn't want to think about anything involving the night you two had spent together, but even though it was recent, seeing you so close hit him hard. It was as if his mind betrayed him the very moment you sat down next to him and did the bare minimum to be noticed. There was no way Heeseung could think of anything other than you. The way you brought the cup to your lips and drank the coffee, for example. It made him think of your mouth kissing him, how easily your lips turned red as the kiss got more and more intense. How your mouth looked like the perfect shape of his cock when you wrapped it around you and sucked it, giving him the best blowjob of his life.

Fuck Heeseung, stop thinking about it. He told himself, or he'd get turned on just associating every single thing you did with the way he had you in his room, under his body, and in his bed.

The only way to make his thoughts go away and him not think like that was to irritate you, bring up the atmosphere of the argument you had with him, and thus get his friends to intervene and completely change the course of Heeseung's thoughts. And the way he thought was by taking the coffee cup from your hand, bringing it to his lips, and taking the last sip.

“Hey” you said loudly enough, trying not to shout because the study room was next to the university library “You ruined my coffee, you idiot.”

“I was thirsty, sorry” Heeseung pouted his lips, feeling the taste of salted caramel all over his tongue. He ran the tip of his tongue between his lips to wipe away any coffee residue. He just didn't expect your attention to be on his mouth. Without hesitation, your eyes traced the path of his mouth and the way his tongue traced his lower lip. That sparked something inside Heeseung because it showed that you were thinking along the same lines as he was.

“You're a real idiot” you said quietly this time, trying to look away as Heeseung bit his lower lip.

He leaned in a little but didn't manage to get close enough to tease you because he felt the famous slap on the chest that you gave him when he said something stupid. Ever since that morning in his bed.

“Ouch, that hurt” he cringed, dodging the next slap you'd give him. For the first time, the dynamic between you and Heeseung was a little closer and more physical. Usually, the two of you didn't sit near each other or you couldn't get there in time to hit him, Jay or Sunghoon always managed to hold you back first.

“Hey, stop it, you two” Jake broke off from an interesting conversation he was having with Jay, sharing a packet of sweets with Sunghoon in the process.

“It's not like you guys had sex at the weekend” Dahyun yawned, throwing the full weight of her head on Jake's shoulder.

“What?” you and Heeseung shouted at the same time.

Their eyes widened, their breathing quickened and their faces heated up as they looked at the four of them sitting in front of them. So they knew, but how? You and he had tried to be discreet the whole time, and you hadn't said anything to Dahyun, considering Heeseung's astonishment, showing that he hadn't said anything to his friends either.

“Come on, we saw you two leaving the party together” Jay sighed “We agreed not to say anything until one of you spoke.”

“But you're still fighting” Jake pouted.

“By the way” Dahyun squeezed the cup between her fingers, the coffee long since finished and she just needed something to munch on while she talked to Jake “I could hear you two when we got home” she looked at Jake for a few seconds, then at you and Heeseung. They exchanged frightened, embarrassed glances.

A hole could be dug right there that you wanted to bury yourself in and never get out of. There was no escaping it and no escape from your friends' looks and playful smiles. There was also no way you could face Heeseung after everything you'd heard, so your only way out was to make an excuse that you needed to go to the library to get a book to start studying. You left the room as quickly as you could and entered the door at the end of the corridor.

At least it was quiet there and you wouldn't hear any of your friends talking about you and Heeseung having sex, or about how they knew all along and didn't tell either of you. It hadn't been long since it happened, but you'd been with Dahyun all morning and Heeseung had probably spent a lot of it with some of the boys he shared a class with. So they waited for you to give them a break to say it out loud?

“Holy shit” you whispered to yourself, leaning on one of the shelves in a vast aisle of encyclopedias. Nothing there was of interest to you and you didn't necessarily need any of those books, but it had been the first aisle you'd found to enter and browse the various shelves in search of clearing your mind.

“It really is shit” the voice settled in your ears and went straight to your skin, sending shivers down your spine and making your heart race. Your heartbeat accelerated more than usual when you turned around and noticed Heeseung just a few steps away.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Go away!” you whispered at him, turning to one of the shelves to pick up any stupid books. If you'd never read encyclopedias before, that day could be your first. Then you'd be too busy reading and not paying attention to the boy who was slowly approaching you.

“I had to leave too, I couldn't stand that embarrassment alone” he said in the same tone as yours, stopping right behind you as he noticed your feat in trying to open a heavy book that had nothing to do with the classes you were attending “Besides, I came to tease you for being too scandalous” Heeseung's breath hitched against your ear, his lips almost kissing your skin.

You turned sharply, the book wobbling in your hands from the weight of it and the force with which you turned. But your reflexes were good enough to hold it steady while you stared at it.

“Me? Scandalous?” your indignation was palpable, along with your anger that was beginning to grow inside your chest at him and the arrogant smile he had “What do you mean?”

“That you moaned so loudly that my sister heard!”

“Motherfucker” you almost forgot you were in the library, wanting to scream in his face and curse him with every swear word you could think of “I didn't moan that loud.”

“Yes, you did” he said.

“No, I didn't” you answered back, not realizing that you had taken a step forward and leaned your body against his. Heeseung took the opportunity to take the book from your hands, the weight shifting to his arms as he put it back on the shelf. Now having full access to you and your body in front of him.

He knew you hadn't moaned out loud, not least because he managed to shut you up every time. Making you moan against his mouth or listening closely when your mouth was close to his ear, having the most beautiful moan Heeseung had ever heard in his entire life.

“On a scale of zero to ten, if I say you moan scandalously…” Heeseung began, his speech somewhat meek “How angry will you be?”

“Ten, obviously” you hadn't even hesitated to answer, regretting it the second he smiled.

“So you moan too scandalously” such a simple sentence, but one that practically tore away the last bit of calm you had with Heeseung. Not that it ever really existed, but at least you tried inside the library.

As if it was the right thing to do, you raised your hand to hit him as you had been doing so often in the last few moments, but he acted quickly. So fast that neither of you could process it. Heeseung's long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled you against his chest, wrapping his free arm around your waist to press you down and give you no chance to escape. The warmth of his fingers against your skin made you hold your breath and close your eyes, almost like a memory of what was about to happen.

It was the perfect cue for Heeseung to lean towards you and touch the tip of his nose to yours. His breaths mingled and his eyes closed to revel in the sensation of being so close to you again.

He wanted to touch your mouth, kiss you, and be able to leave with you. To remember the softness of your lips and how perfectly your mouths fit together as if the two of you had learned everything from each other. Even though the two of you shared hurried, slow kisses, none of them were disproportionate or out of rhythm. You and Heeseung managed to find harmony and synchronicity in every movement.

“Oh, shit” Jay's voice made you and Heeseung break apart quickly, startled by the closeness and realizing that if the brunette hadn't arrived, you and he would have kissed right then “Sorry, I—”

“You owe me lunch for a week” Dahyun appeared beside him, smiling openly as her eyes landed on you and Heeseung. He didn't need to look at you to know that you also shared a confused, albeit frightened, expression as to why Jay and his sister were there in the library.

“What did you two bet?” Heeseung asked the dreaded question, opening and closing his fists and holding back the urge to touch you again, even if it was in front of the two who were still there.

“That you and Y/n would be kissing” Jay said “But the two of them never actually kissed, so I don't owe you anything.”

“Yes, you do!” Dahyun protested, pushing Jay out of the hallway and leaving you and Heeseung completely unresponsive.

It would have been a smart idea to avoid going to any parties after what happened, in case you both regretted it. But that wasn't exactly it.

As the week went by, the teasing between Heeseung and you continued with a little more intensity, adding to the spice of what had happened between you, and now things had become a little more physical. Like him having to get too close to you and touch your hair after getting on your nerves, or how your hand wrapped around his arm – unnecessarily – so you could avoid Heeseung when he was near the kitchen counter teasing you before you left and went to his sister's room.

Things were getting heated and neither of you made any move to actually stop or that it wasn't affecting you anymore, quite the opposite. As the touching persisted or you paid too much attention to each other's actions, things got more and more complicated.

That was why Heeseung now found himself with a red glass in his hand, bringing it to his lips and feeling the bitter taste of alcohol go down his throat. He could have refused to go to that party after Sunghoon insisted, with the excuse that the class had been terrible. Even though he had slept through most of it. At least they were at Yeonjun's parent's house, the rich boy and Jake's friend who always gave up his house when the fraternities hadn't recovered after a few parties over a short period.

At least there was somewhere to sit, a room without too many people and the music wasn't too loud. The pool room that the boys usually went to when they wanted to escape the crowds, but didn't want to leave the party completely.

“Man, I love it when we’re here” Yeonjun sighed, sitting across from Heeseung and next to Jay “I wanted to run away from Stacy all night.”

“Is she annoying you?” Jay held back a laugh.

Talking about girls was the main topic when Yeonjun was around, and it wasn’t such a bad thing. Sharing experiences and even talking about how their current relationships were going, just as Jake made a point of praising Dahyun and how the two of them were getting along better and better. At some point in the conversation, Heeseung didn’t even bother to share anything, feeling shy for the first time. You had been the last girl he slept with, and talking about it, about the intimacy you two shared made him embarrassed. It wasn’t that he would brag every time he got with someone, on the contrary, the poor boy was the most teased because he rarely kissed a unit on the mouth at a party.

Maybe it was his chance to say that he had finally kissed someone after so long. But he wanted to keep it all to himself as if he felt jealous of sharing every detail about you.

“And you, Heeseung” Yeonjun called him as if he could read his thoughts. “Did you finally have sex?”

Sunghoon choked on his half-drunk drink, biting the plastic cup as he looked at his friend and noticed the shocked expression on his face. Yeonjun didn’t know anything about what had happened, especially since he wasn’t that close to you and Dahyun. He knew you two by sight and exchanged a few words because you were always around, but it’s not like he knew everything about you.

“He definitely had sex” Jake bit his lips to keep from smiling “Guess who?”

There wasn’t a single name that crossed Yeonjun’s mind, it was so difficult to associate Heeseung with anyone. Just like they associated Jake with Dahyun or Yeonjun with Stacy. Heeseung didn't have anyone on his radar, and the boys didn't know which girl had ever mentioned his name as a possible sexual companion.

A short period of silence fell over the room, and Jay's impatience quickly cut through.

"Y/n" he said.

“What?” it was Yeonjun’s turn to almost choke on his drink when he decided to take a sip of his beer. “Don’t you two, like, hate each other more than anything in the universe?”

I thought so, Heeseung had that answer on the tip of his tongue, almost wanting to say it out loud.

“So our dear Lee has a powerful dick” Yeonjun joked.

“Dude, we can ask Y/n if he has a small dick or not” Jay suggested.

“That’s cute, we’re finally going to know about his dick” Jake faked a cute voice, pouting and everything to get in on the joke.

“I don’t have a small dick, you idiots” Heeseung wanted to sound angry, although that joke was always there. Talking like that or about sexual performance with some girl… It would be disgusting if it was a conversation that happened often, but it wasn’t. It was just at times when they all wanted to escape from everything, to be in a universe where only boys existed and they could talk about anything.

A laugh filled the room before Heeseung or any of the boys could respond. Turning to the door, there you were. Standing with your hand on the doorknob and the other holding the plastic cup.

“Y/n!” Jay called out to you excitedly.

“Hey Y/n, is it true that Heeseung—” Yeonjun was interrupted by a flying plastic cup, hitting him in the chest as Heeseung threw it.

You had heard the entire conversation before entering the wrong room, looking for a bathroom to pee in. Your eyes scanned the room, seeing how relaxed and happy the boys were, far from those people you were starting to get bored with.

“Wrong door, sorry, boys” you waved and smiled at all of them, stopping your eyes on Heeseung for a long moment. Analyzing every inch of his body. Every piece of clothing adorned that man’s curves very well. Wide pants, white tank top, and leather jacket. A cardinal sin was that his hair was slicked back and the silver chain showing well above the collar of the tank top he was wearing. Luckily for you, the music was loud enough that no one could hear the force with which you swallowed when you noticed Heeseung’s collarbone was more exposed than usual. Waving to all of them, you closed the door as quickly as you opened it.

He tried to process what had just happened. Did your laughter indicate that you had heard the conversation, giving the boys room to think that he had a small dick? It wasn't possible… Heeseung couldn't believe it, even though it was true as he started to hear his friends making fun of your reaction.

If she laughed, it was because she agreed.

Does he really have a small dick?

Shit, Heeseung, she's teasing you.

He didn't want to hear anything from his friends anymore, the small flame of anger consuming him for teasing him like that in front of his friends. It wouldn't stay like this. Heeseung wouldn't let you get away with it, just like you almost didn't let him get away with it on library day.

Without time for goodbyes or small talk, Heeseung left the room in a hurry, opening the door and closing it without giving time for protests or for any of the boys to follow him. Now, in the middle of the small crowd in the hallway, he dodged some dancing and sweaty bodies, looking everywhere in search of you or his sister who, perhaps, could know where you were. Heeseung had a small spark of hope that he could find you before you went somewhere he couldn't find anymore. Or worse, that you started to feel tired and drunk enough to want to leave.

Running down the stairs, he reached the ground floor in record time, even with some people getting in his way. Heeseung walked from one room to the other, his eyes increasingly attentive to the people, scanning the place until he finally found you. Standing at one end of the table with glasses piled up in front of you, while his sister was at the other end with a few more girls.

“My turn to play,” one of them said, excited enough to grab the ball and throw it before it fell into one of the cups. She and Dahyun celebrated that you would have to drink, and from the look on your face, it wasn’t that good.

Heeseung took hurried steps towards the table, watching you take the ball out of the cup and drink all the contents inside.

“How disgusting” you stuck your tongue out, making a fake vomit sound before discarding the empty cup right next to you. “Now it’s my turn” but your turn didn’t come. Before you could even throw the ball into one of the cups in front of Dahyun and the other girl, Heeseung grabbed your arm and slid his fingers through your hand until he took the ball out. “What the fuck—”

“I need to talk to you” he said.

“Oh, that’s our girl, finally Y/n!” you wanted to ignore those comments, especially because Heeseung’s eyes were so intense and focused only on you. He didn’t care that the girls were joking about that situation, or how Dahyun was saying some teasing things in a playful tone. As if his gaze was capable of erasing everything around him and leaving only the two of you in the center of everything.

“Heeseung.”

“I said I need to talk to you, let’s go” he threw the ball to Dahyun, grabbing your arm again to get you out of there as quickly as possible.

Strangely you didn’t protest, just accepting the boy in front of you leading the way out of the party and through the front door. The air that hit your skin almost made you shiver, but Heeseung’s touch was capable of warming everything in your body without giving you a chance to feel the cold outside environment.

He stopped walking as soon as the two of you passed through the entire front yard, the sidewalk almost devoid of anyone around. Everyone was lying on the lawn or the porch, except for the excessive amount that was already inside Yeonjun's parents' huge house.

“What do you need to talk to me about?” you finally asked, letting your voice be heard by Heeseung after a while of silence between the two of you. He then let go of your arm, turning towards you to face you. Looking around a little, he wanted to make sure that he wouldn't be interrupted or, worse still, that someone would hear your conversation. People had a slight impression that you and Heeseung always argued, but the only ones who listened attentively to this were your friends and his sister. Heeseung didn't want anyone else to know about these little details.

“You heard the boys’ conversation upstairs, didn’t you?” he asked you. His tone was usually serious, but with a hint of anger that was always directed at you.

“Wanting to know if you have a small dick? Yeah, I heard you” you laughed a little, regretting it the second Heeseung approached you. His eyes were glazed over anywhere on your face, at least you knew where he was looking. His chest rose and fell in a rapid breath as he leaned in enough to be able to look you in the eyes without losing your attention.

“Do you find this funny, Y/n?” his low tone of voice never had any effect on you, on the contrary, it always instigated you even more to tease him. Smiling now and then, pushing Heeseung’s buttons when he seemed mad at you. But this time it was different, his voice seemed to fade away as he said things to you that way. The look still in your eyes, now falling to your lips “So you think I have a small dick?”

“I didn’t say anything about that—” you were quickly interrupted.

“Answer my question” he said “Do you think I have a small dick?” Heeseung’s hand touched your waist, pressing his fingers tightly against the spot before pulling you against his body.

You swallowed any sound that could come out of your lips so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing the effect he was having on you. Your pride spoke louder at least at that moment.

Thinking of all the possibilities that could answer his question, something popped into your mind. The instinct of rivalry and fight between the two of you couldn’t end so soon, and you knew that a remnant of the old Y/n that started all this with Heeseung still lived inside you. So you did the right thing by whispering those words.

“On ​​a scale of zero to ten, how angry will you be if I say yes?”

Heeseung felt like an idiot for letting a smile appear on his lips so easily, especially because of you.

“We’re going home right now, tell my sister to go with Jake” he said, not taking his hands off your waist until he took you to the car and they left that party.

You were both experiencing a little deja vu from the first night you were together, but something at that moment seemed to be a little slower. You arrived at the apartment without much of a rush because Heeseung drove carefully; the city streets at that time were not a safe place to speed, even if he was in a hurry. The silence in the building's elevator was not uncomfortable, much less the rustling of the keys when he opened the apartment door.

The path to his room was led by him, with dragging and slightly nervous steps – which you didn't notice and he was grateful – because you were equally nervous. The last time you made this path, you were in Heeseung's arms and with your mouth glued to his. Shy giggles and messy words were said as the two of you tried to balance each other until you entered his room.

When you entered the room again, the smell of Heeseung's cologne was still in the air. The same smell he had all over his clothes and inside the car, showing that when he had put on perfume a few hours before going to the party, the smell still lingered in the air. Your eyes searched around in search of some recognition, mentally cursing yourself for remembering practically everything. The shelf with trophies he had won, video games stacked perfectly next to each other, some dolls and superheroes. Nerd stuff that you had played with him for so long outside of that environment, but being in Heeseung's personal space and taking a good look at it was something new for you.

At that moment your thoughts flew to the boy in front of you who, delicately, wrapped his hands around your waist this time. The tender touch was a total opposite of what the two of you had been having lately, about everything that involved you and him. Heeseung pulled you closer, his forehead slowly touching yours, while one of his hands left your waist to touch your face. The touch of his fingers against your skin immediately made you close your eyes.

“Do you miss being here?” he asked in a playful tone, but the softness of that question made you wonder if you really missed being there. Even though it was the second time you had stepped into Heeseung's room under those circumstances.

“You're the one who misses having me here” you teased.

“Maybe so” he shrugged, smiling when you seemed surprised by his sudden confession, but you didn’t dare open your eyes. Shy enough not to be able to look at Heeseung while he was still caressing your face.

You had both consumed a little more alcohol than the last time you did this, but still, neither of you managed to get to the point of getting drunk. There was no way you could tell him that you drank too much at the games with Dahyun and the girls, and much less could Heeseung use the excuse that he was drunk with the boys. Again, you were both in that situation because you wanted to be.

“Y/n” he whispered your name, taking you out of the little trance where you could only hear your calm breathing and your heartbeats against each other due to the proximity of your body to his.

“Yeah” you answered.

“Can I kiss you again?” the first time he didn’t ask for permission in that scenario, Heeseung’s lips were simply against yours. But now, there inside his room, everything seemed different. All the tenderness and calm that you were strangely enjoying, while he didn't know exactly why he was caressing you so lovingly and asking permission for something he had already done.

“Yes, please” your answer surprised him more than it surprised you. You even said please, something that had never happened to him. Usually the only thank you you gave Heeseung or the only word of cordiality you said to each other was the famous good morning, and when Dahyun still insisted on the two of you.

Finally, Heeseung's lips pressed against yours, the soft touch of his mouth sliding over yours before he opened his mouth and urged you to do the same. Heeseung's chin slowly pressed against yours to keep your mouth open and enter his tongue into your cave, searching for your tongue and intertwining the two gently.

Although there was urgency in each touch, in how he wanted to kiss you and how you wanted to be kissed by him, something unsaid – but understood – was that you both wanted to enjoy that strangely pleasurable moment for both of you. Your hands went up to make contact with the collar of the jacket he wore, running your thin fingers under the leather before grabbing Heeseung's shoulders. Your skin against his made him sigh during the kiss, bringing you closer and walking with you towards the bed. Stopping only when his calf touched the wood indicating that he had reached where he wanted.

He was the first to stop kissing you, placing small kisses on your chin until he reached your jaw, where he lightly scraped his teeth and smiled when he saw the skin on your neck start to get goosebumps. You didn't want to be left behind, so your hands forced themselves on his shoulders to loosen his jacket and make it fall halfway down his arms. Heeseung grew impatient with that piece of cloth and soon got rid of the jacket, not bothering to throw it on the bedroom floor, wrapping his arms around your body again.

Heeseung returned with his lips against your skin, brushing whenever he could on every little spot before alternating with the tip of his tongue a short path down to below your ear. His breath so close was enough to make you go a little crazy more.

“We can—”

“We can do whatever you want” he told you, kissing the spot below your ear and returning to position his face aligned with yours. Foreheads together and feeling her breath hit his lips “Tell me and I will do it.”

It was your turn to kiss Heeseung, your hands holding his face to keep him close while his tongue wrapped around yours again. The perfect fit of your mouths and how the two of you, despite your need, didn't let go and didn't make a mess of it. Yet.

Heeseung picked you up just to lay you down on his bed, snuggling his body between your legs without taking his mouth off yours. He pulled away momentarily to breathe before kissing you again with even more desire. At that point you felt like you needed him even more, your legs wrapping around Heeseung's hips who, you could tell, was holding back from making any risky moves. Even though you both wanted that. But it was impossible to hold back any longer because of the way the kiss started to get sloppy and lazy. You didn't know that you could get even more excited by the way Heeseung's tongue moved against yours or how the softness of his lips remained even after you abused them for so long.

Involuntarily your hips rocked, feeling Heeseung's erection rub against your clothed pussy, making you both moan in sync.

“Fuck” he moaned into your mouth, swallowing another moan of yours as he pressed his hips against you so you could feel a little more of his cock.

“Heeseung” your hands ran down his arms, your nails making a reddish path against his skin as you marked him.

“Are you going to moan loudly now?” he teased, lifting his head to look at you. It would be typical of Lee Heeseung to comment on that while he had a hard-on and was between your legs, you should have imagined that.

“I think you need to keep your mouth busy and stop talking shit” you rolled your eyes at him, holding yourself back so that your arousal wouldn't turn into anger and you would hit the boy.

“Your wish is my command, ma'am” Heeseung smiled so seductively that you asked yourself countless questions at that moment.

As he slid down your body, taking off each piece of your clothing without your protest, you wondered. Heeseung always smiled mischievously at you, although the effects were always the opposite of what was happening. Maybe the vulnerability in which you and he found each other at that moment made you with your senses heightened, paying a little more attention than necessary. Of course, you saw Heeseung up close, in his most intimate form, just as he saw you too. So that would be a good explanation for why you felt strange when he, at that moment, directed the smiles that you knew so well, at you.

Looking down at the exact second that Heeseung took off your panties, you noticed how lost in thought you were at that moment. Did he undress you so quickly or were you thinking too much about his smile to notice that now you were both naked? It didn’t matter, the job was done and now you fought against your racing heartbeat as Heeseung’s face lowered to be level with your pussy.

As if asking permission with a glance directed at your face, you nodded slowly as he adjusted himself between your legs and placed a kiss on your thigh. His lips tickled your skin before sliding down to your groin and finally finding your pussy.

“Heeseung— shit” you held back a moan between your lips as the tip of his tongue touched your clit. Swollen and in need of his full attention which he was more than willing to give.

Heeseung wrapped one hand around your thigh, bringing the other to your pussy to part your labia and spread all your wetness on his fingertips. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever see, but one he couldn’t stop seeing now. He needed to be in that position at least once a day, if possible. Heeseung’s fingers made their way across your pussy lips until they reached your hole, circling it before pushing in. He looked up, his face fucking gorgeous as you fought the urge to open your eyes.

He wrapped his lips around your clit to suck on your bundle of nerves at the same time his finger was inserted into your hole. The two sensations flooded you as you let out the most beautiful moan. It wasn't scandalous at all, on the contrary, it was low and sensual. A reminder of how Heeseung was making you feel with just a few seconds of giving your pussy proper attention.

Moving his finger inside you, he included another and the two began working in and out of your hole. The wet sound of his fingers fucking you along with the moans you were letting out made his cock throb. Heeseung felt himself getting harder and harder, aching and wanting to be inside you as soon as possible.

“Hee” you moaned that nickname that had been heard only a few times, but that was enough to make him want to hear it again. This seemed to motivate you a little more, because Heeseung inserted the third finger into your pussy and, leaning down again, he went back to kissing your clit and any other place his mouth could reach.

It seemed like the way he kissed your mouth, kissing your pussy so perfectly that you were going crazy. Your hands found their way into his hair, tangling a few strands without having enough strength to pull them out. You focused as much as possible on how well Heeseung was fucking you and his fingers curling inside your warm walls. It was the second time you had sex, but it seemed like he knew every spot on your body and how you should be touched.

Heeseung felt your hole tighten against his fingers, licking your clit more slowly, although the intrusion of his fingers into your hole wasn't that slow. He smiled against your pussy, lifting his face from there and crawling until his face was flush with yours. His fingers didn't stop fucking you even though his mouth was far from your pussy.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked in a deep and hoarse whisper, making you open your eyes and almost actually cum at that moment. His chin was covered in saliva and your wetness, making Heeseung even hotter than he looked.

You nodded quickly to him, bringing one of your hands to Heeseung's chin and sliding your thumb over the spots on his skin to clean it. Any other time this would have been kind of cute, warming both of your hearts with the act. Although he appreciated your care even if he didn't mind having a little bit of you stuck to his chin.

“I want you to cum looking into my eyes” he whispered “Can you do that?”

You had no way of knowing if you were capable of it, especially when his fingers started fucking you again so slowly, but so intensely. He made sure to go all the way to his knuckles, rotating and scissoring inside you with precision. Wanting to feel your warm walls enveloping them as he penetrated you. A scream burst from your throat when his thumb touched your clit, where his lips had been minutes ago. You moved your hips to match the movements of his fingers and that made Heeseung almost go crazy.

Your hands went back to touching his hair, one of them going to the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours. Heeseung kissed you to share a little of your taste on his tongue, to show you how addictive you were not only to the kiss but to the taste of your pussy that he was already starting to get addicted to. This was starting to get too much for you, the way he moved his tongue around as he kissed you to muffle your moans and the way his fingers filled you up nicely. A few more small strokes and a particularly hard press on your clit and you came undone, cumming all over his fingers and squeezing them like Heeseung remembered your pussy being capable of.

He held you throughout your orgasm, his fingers still inside you until your walls stopped convulsing and tightening. Slowly sliding out with all of your cum running down your fingers and into the palm of your hand.

“That was…” your words slowly faded as you noticed him pull away a little, enough for him to be able to place his hand between your face and his. The glow of your essence covering every little part of Heeseung’s fingers made your face heat up. It wasn’t the first time you had cum with him, but seeing it so close made you feel shy… You came all that and only on his fingers?

With an air of pride for having been the cause of it, Heeseung smiled before bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking every little drop of you. Fucking hot. He licked it all up with determination, just like he had done on your pussy until there was nothing left for him to clean.

“That was what?” he turned his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he leaned in again and now Heeseung's hips were pressed against yours.

Your pussy was still sensitive as his throbbing cock made contact with your folds. He let out a hiss, low and whimpering at the warm sensation that hadn't yet enveloped him. You wanted to surprise him just like he did to you, so slowly your lips enveloped his. A slow kiss to calm your heart that was still racing from the post-orgasm, but preparing yourself for what was on your mind as you felt him melt into your lips.

It was the calmness of Heeseung kissing you and the way you took his lips at that moment. Feeling the attention you gave to each caress, when your hands slid over his body… He just didn't count on how fast it was when you grabbed his dick and slid the red and sensitive head into your entrance.

“Y/n… Fuck, holy shit” he moaned. Being taken by surprise by the sensation, but unable to contain himself when he felt your hot hole envelop him. Quickly his hips pushed forward as if he was trained to do it, as if Heeseung needed to do it without thinking, just being close to your pussy like something magnetic to his dick.

In a quick movement, his entire dick was inside you, and you both moaned at the same second. You because you felt filled by his dick, killing the longing that was to have him inside you. That would never be admitted out loud. While he felt the warmth and sponginess of your walls enveloping every inch of his dick. A hot embrace that he needed more than ever. Another thing that wouldn't be admitted out loud either.

Heeseung adjusted himself, one hand resting on the side of your head while the other found its way to your hip. Supporting himself and squeezing the flesh of your skin as he rested his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes before starting to move.

You remember that the first time you two had sex, Heeseung practically fucked you. The force with which his cock entered and left you, the way he ate you out and you sucked him. It was an almost angry but needy sex, where the two of you poured out teasing and moaning. But this time was different. He also remembered the way you and he gave yourselves to each other the first time. How his hips tortured yours as his cock went in and out, hearing you moan his name so much that Heeseung could think it was devotion to him.

But this time he moved masterfully. Slowly and carefully, but each time his dick entered, Heeseung went intensely to the bottom, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you completely and reach the limit that was being in your pussy, reaching your deepest point. His dick slid perfectly inside you, combining his pre-cum with your fluids and the cum from the previous orgasm, all combined with the way he moved.

To add even more intensity to the sex, Heeseung remained with his gaze fixed on your eyes. His hand on your hip tightened as he managed to reach the bottom of your pussy or when your walls squeezed him at a certain point. He was on cloud nine every time your hole swallowed him and he felt your walls being slid by every inch of him.

“Y/n” the whisper of his voice made you mumble softly, as if answering his call and telling him that you were listening. Not wanting to say too much or simply interrupt what he wanted to say to you “That’s amazing” he slowly kissed your lips, the hand on your hip sliding down to grip your thigh “You’re amazing.”

He didn’t even care if it had been said that way or how you would react. By the way your eyes were soft on him, your mouth half open letting moans escape, Heeseung could tell you felt the same way.

“You’re an idiot” you whispered “But you’re amazing too, Heeseung” he chuckled against your lips as he kissed you again.

The sharing of each movement of your tongues as they danced in sync with his hips that were still moving against yours. His cock throbbed inside your pussy indicating that he wouldn't last much longer than that, although your pussy was addictive and he could fuck you all night. But Heeseung wasn't that strong when it came to you – at least not in the last week that he discovered what sex with you was like – so cumming was more than a necessity for him at that moment.

He quickened the pace of his thrusts, the sound of his pelvis hitting against your thighs quickly in search of the apex to share a little more intimacy. Heeseung thrust his cock into you fast, but with a certain care that made your chest heat up. And that was a combination of the overwhelming sensations that the two of you were sharing. His cock went to the limit, touching your cervix as he started and going a little harder and faster to fuck you with a little more need.

Heeseung rested his forehead against yours again, a silent plea that he wanted to see you cum with him or simply see your expression when the two of you came together. And with a few more strokes you felt the burning in the pit of your stomach. Your hands ran to hold his face, afraid that the two of you would turn away and you wouldn't be able to look at him while you came undone on his cock.

“Hee” you called him before moaning close to his mouth, sharing accelerated breaths before your walls closed around his cock, cumming hard. More than the first time on his fingers.

That was too much for Heeseung to handle, he wouldn't be able to hold back the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock. Your cum slid all over his length and hitting against his pelvis. Heeseung felt his balls ache as he continued to pound his cock into you until he finally came. The hot and long jets of cum inside your pussy, hitting your insides hard. He moaned your name tirelessly as he continued to move in search of prolonging both orgasms.

For a long moment, the two of you remained in that position, trying to normalize your breathing, which was still more than accelerated. Heeseung held you as if his life depended on it, and so did you. Little by little, after your pussy stopped squeezing him and his cock stopped twitching, he slowly raised his hips to pull out of you. Both of you moaning together were almost no longer connected as before, he threw himself next to you on the bed.

“Don’t move” Heeseung whispered, although he knew you didn’t have the strength to do it. With great difficulty, he got up and made the well-known path to the bathroom outside the room. Thankfully, no one had arrived from the party yet, having the apartment just for the two of you. When Heeseung returned to the room, he had a small smile on his lips as he lay down next to you again, bending over you.

“What…” he seemed to have the power to interrupt you on the strangest occasions, catching you by surprise with unexpected actions. He cleaned you carefully, leaving no trace of the two of you between your legs, just like he had done in the bathroom with himself a few seconds ago. Heeseung discarded the damp paper in the trash next to the computer table, lying down next to you again and wrapping his arm around your waist. Just like he had done the first night you and he slept together.

But this time it didn’t seem so strange to you. What was strange was that you liked the feeling of having him so close like this, facing him and resting your hands on Heeseung’s exposed chest.

“So you…”

“Don’t say anything to provoke me now or I’ll hit you” it was your turn to interrupt him, making Heeseung laugh as he pulled you closer and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You didn't know what happened to you after Heeseung touched you, because every little thing he did made your whole body shiver.

“I was just going to say…” he whispered, his lips close to your ear, but with a subtle tone that was rarely – if ever – used with you “If you still think you hate me.”

“I do” you answered quickly. Heeseung laughed against your ear, lifting his face so he could look at you.

“Then I hate you too” he said back, pressing his lips against yours, but not kissing them like he always did when he was close enough to you. “Can we hate each other like we did today, then?”

It was your turn to laugh, making Heeseung feel strange now. His heart skipped a beat at the brightness in your eyes and the way you frowned when you were smiling like that. Was he paying too much attention or were the two of you close enough that he couldn't notice anything other than you and what you were doing? He wasn't sure.

“I think we can hate each other like this” you replied, seeing the small hint of happiness in his eyes and in the smile he gave you.

Pressing his lips slowly to yours, you let him kiss you so subtly like you never thought would happen. Because after all, you and Heeseung hated each other.

And you would hate each other the same way you did in his bed.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.