#if u don’t know what i’m talking about you’re living a more peaceful life than i am

[ash-and-starlight]

modern au and esen’s honkers are haunting the instagram feed

[astrow1zar6]

Astro Observations-32

Gemini moons have very unstable opinions and values. They usually change what they believe in based on their social environment. It’s very easy to convince them it’s this and not that if you’re convincing enough. These constant changes can make people confused in what they actually believe in. Very rare they have fixed beliefs about something. They contradict themselves a lot.

Gemini suns if underdeveloped can be big copy cats. I think they do it as a way to fit in so they’re more susceptible to changing their style or mannerisms based off of others they inspire to be like

Aries suns get triggered by everything very easily. If you say something they don’t like or that offends them they can take it from 0-100 real quick. They can be very mean at times but that’s usually their defense mechanism for feeling hurt. They can let wayyy to much things get to them they should learn to not take things so personally even if they are offended (this goes for Aries moon as well!!!) Controlling their reactions to how they deal with bs can help their mental peace a lot. When they learn not everything needs a reaction they can really become some bosses fr

Pisces/12th house placements show different versions of themselves based off of the persons vibe their interacting with. Which is why some ppl can see them as quiet and reserved and another person can see them as hot headed and loud and another can see them as sweet and outgoing etc. They can read ppls energy very easily which is why I believe they’re able to subconsciously change their personality to certain ppl as a defense mechanism to sorta see if that person is safe enough to be their true selfs. This can be why a lot of ppl see them in so many different lights. (Ex: my brother has a 12th house stellium and with family he’s extremely awkward & reserved but I’m his school he’s extremely popular & social and gets in trouble for talking too much). Learning to be more comfortable showing ur true self to others (other than the people they see as safe) can help others pin point better the person you are.

Cancer moons are so emotionally intelligent it’s insane

I notice your moon sign acts more like the stereotypical sign then your sun sign (ex: Scorpio moons act more like stereotypical Scorpios then Scorpio suns)

Leo moons are very passionate ppl. They want to live the intensity of life & they live it like that. That’s why ppl mistake their behavior for exaggeration & drama. These are actually their feelings they don’t exaggerate they truly feel that intensity. They’re only playful with selected people which is why others can see them as cold at times. If underdeveloped they can act like know it alls a lot, they can be very defensive and hard headed to others advice bc they believe they know better. Can result in big ego problems if not checked. But overall genuine hearted ppl.

Virgo moons get the “ick” from people easily that don’t value what they value

Sag moons do you guys deal with deep emotions at all? Everyone I met with this placement is abnormally very jolly & nothing usually bothers them much. How do you guys deal with emotions?? I’m lowkey jealous of this moon placement because of how well you take negatively. They’re able to transmute negative energy into something positive with such little effort. This can be somewhat stressful for deeper signs however to really see under all that joy. This lack of depth can make it harder for others to relate at times. This placement is the definition of golden retriever energy.

Ppl with Aries mars in their chart gain muscle VERY easily (especially in their arms) these people actually enjoy working out and going to the gym normally. As kids they had a surplus of physical energy. They were usually always running around or climbing stuff making obstacles courses, arm wrestling ppl etc. this placement is a blessing in terms of energy levels and health.

Taurus placement can sit around and watch tv all day if u let them. They really love TV especially movies. I notice this more with Taurus mars as well, they’re more likely to watch movies all day or binge watch shows for hours. It’s usually their happy place (and when u add food to it they’ll never leave lol)

Taurus moons usually always grew up loving fashion and clothes. Even as kids they can be very creative with the outfits the wore. They were usually too stubborn to have their mom pick out their clothes cuz they wanted a certain “look” (I’m guilt for this) they are also very fond of thrifting! Can be big shopaholics lol

Pisces moons tend to ghost ppl they’re close too with very little warning. They’ll just randomly decide to move to another state without informing anyone which can catch ppl off guard a lot. They do this especially when they feel overwhelmed with life and responsibilities. These are the hardest ppl to keep in touch with (unless you’re a love interest) they tend to put their love interests before everyone.

Pisces suns fall in love with some of the most psychotic/mentally unstable ppl ever lol. They tend to have very chaotic love life’s and tend to go for people that need some sort of mental help.

Out of all the Venus signs I feel like Taurus Venus’s have the easiest time in relationships. They tend to go for very stable people that usually treat them well. They have the ability to attract very helpful partners. (Cries in aqua Venus 🥲) however they can be more likely to take their partners for granted and don’t realize how good they have it.

Another question for other astrologers does the house of ur Venus give the same affect as the sign? Like for example ( does having a 5th house Venus give the same effect as having a Leo Venus in a way? Or is it not as strong?)

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey!! if requests are open can u write a luke x jealous!reader?

The ending is a rushed pile of dogshit cuz I didn’t know what to do. 🦦

‘Luke?’

‘Yeah babe.’

‘Are you happy with me, like genuinely happy?’

Luke looked at you confused. ‘I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my entire life.’ He then reached to grasp one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. ‘What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.’ He utters softly, eyes shining with worry and concern.

You bit the inside of your cheek, all of a sudden feeling a little stupid in what you were feeling since this morning and shrugged your shoulders sheepishly. ‘It’s nothing, really. I’m just getting inside my own head.’ You attempted to play it off in hopes that it will all be forgotten, but you also knew that Luke would want to get to the bottom of what was causing you to be anything other then happy and solve it together.

‘It’s not nothing if it’s you sweetheart.’ Luke said as he then used his free hand to lift your chin so that you would look at him instead of your shoes. ‘Talk to me, please don’t shut me out. I know somethings wrong and I want help, so let me help you.’ He adds and you finally felt yourself crack. ‘I saw how some of the girls kept looking at you during training and kept hanging off of you the entire day and how you kept playing up to them.’ You eventually told him, not wanting to keep anything secret from him anymore. ‘So I ended up getting a little jealous that I might not be making you happy anymore…not to mention how busy we’ve both been with camp activities lately…’ you finished, staring deep into his dark, captivating eyes that seemed to see and know you at your core.

‘Hey, there’s no shame in what you’re feeling, and despite what we’re raised as, we’re still fundamentally human in every other aspect. Okay.’ Luke said as he tried to squeeze every ounce of his assurance into your interlocked hands, hopeful that it would bring you at least some peace of mind. ‘I hate how busy we’ve become, more than anything and I just wish we could go back to the days where we would hideaway together by our secret spot at the lake. For being with you during those moments when unrest would take over camp was always my antidote, my soothing balm for my overworked mind in trying to keep camp sane.’ Luke then rested his forehead against your own so that he was the only thing you could see and vice versa.

‘You mean that?’ You asked and Luke let out a chuckle.

‘Mean it? Sweetheart, I live by it.’ Luke said, gingerly pressing a kiss to your brow as though to ease the tension within it, leaving you to melt into him a little bit. ‘So I don’t want you to ever think that you’re not enough. Especially not when you’re the sole thing I think about from the moment I wake up -wishing you were cuddled up in my arms- to the moment I drift off to sleep. I cant get enough of you!’ Any ounce of insecurity you might’ve had beforehand had been discarded afterwards upon hearing his sweet words, so much so that you couldn’t seem to stop smiling nor stop the warm feeling within your chest whenever Luke said anything remotely endearing; it was your biggest weakness and he knew just how to exploit it for his one benefit.

‘There’s that gorgeous smile I love.’ He coos, stealing a kiss from your lips to emphasise his point, leaving your smile to widen against his lips; humming in content as any and all notions of jealously were completely forgotten alongside the campers those feelings were aimed towards.

‘Just remember that it’s your arms I want to be held by and that it’s your smile that I want to be the reason for because getting to see you smile, laugh, or just being your authentic self is my guiding light in this life and I’d be stupid to ever give that up. You’re it for me, for if I can’t have your kind of love, then I don’t want to ever experience love at all.’ Luke spoke against your lips, keenly kissing them whenever he felt as though you needed that extra bit of proof of his love and devotion.

You didn’t because Luke never failed to reaffirm his adoration for you in the little things he did for you, but you couldn’t help but allow yourself to drown in his vast displays of affection, for your love for Luke was considered your Achilles heel but you’d happily let that continue to be the case for the rest of your days.

[haet-sal]

An Attic Affair//Younghoon x reader smut

Since the Kim brothers moved in, your life has been hell. Sunwoo took over your room and made you sleep in the attic, and Younghoon… well, you don’t mind seeing him. What makes it hellish is that you’re incredibly attracted to him, and he doesn’t even seem to notice you.

Tags: stepbrother smut, KINKY fingering scene (but who cares youre already fucking your stepbrother), he calls u a 'SLUT', scene of watching porn + lots of masturbating, PERV!hoon+sunwoo (panty-stealing & ogling), perv!you, hoon calls himself "oppa" once, unprotected🤷‍♀️, BULLY!Sunwoo, hoon is VERY NICE to you

W.c.: 5.5k

Excerpt; “Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

~~

“Move over, idiot.” Sunwoo pushed you out of your high chair, and sits down with his breakfast. The same way he pushed you out of your room.

“You decided last week that that was your seat,” you say, pointing to the chair across from you two.

Sunwoo grunts. “I’m sorry, we have ‘permanent’ seats in this house?”

Your mother says it’s just the thing with having siblings now, you’ve been an only child so you don’t know how to share—why couldn’t you be more like the Kim brothers? When Sunwoo calls her ‘mom’ your mother just goes nuts with pride, so when he asked her, “mom can I please have Y/N’s room, it’s so much bigger,” she immediately gave it to him.

You couldn’t even move to the guest room, because it was now taken over by the older brother, Hoonie—who had moved into an apartment in the city, he didn’t even live here—but they wanted to keep his room and stuff there, so you had to settle for… the attic. Bullied out of a bed by Kim Sunwoo, who in the eyes your mother could do no wrong.

It wasn’t enough that he saw you battling with attic dust and cramped space every time you came down out of a ladder for breakfast, Sunwoo had to take everything else from you—your seat at any table, your laptop because his kept ‘freezing’, any alone-time you could get—and still wasn’t satisfied. Sunwoo was a bully. You didn’t know how your mother couldn’t see it.

You didn’t hate all the Kims, though. Your new stepdad was a great guy, the perfect fit to your mother’s jigsaw puzzle of a heart, and Younghoon…

You didn’t hate Younghoon. You didn’t even know how someone could begin to hate Younghoon. You first met him wearing some shabby Christmas sweater, but on the day of the wedding, he had a suit on…

You got cake frosting in your nose staring at Younghoon back at the wedding. You didn’t understand how fabric could be so sinful, more sinful than nakedness, how the thin white silk shirt hugged his chest, and the length of his legs exaggerated by the tailored pants… Younghoon was like a vision of a dream you couldn’t get enough of. Thank God he lived in the city, away from you, or you would have committed multiple crimes.

As you were staring Sunwoo down at the breakfast table, the front door suddenly opens, and two long legs strided into the dining room, to your surprise—Younghooon is in the kitchen, picking out muscats out of a bowl. “Hey, appa. Hey, mom.” Younghoon had started calling your mother ‘mom’ too, to your disdain. “I got a break from my job, and my roommate’s got his girlfriend over the whole time, so I thought I’d just come see you guys. Surprise?”

He takes a seat beside you until you’re sandwiched between both brothers. Your mom shot a look at you—“Sweetie, let them sit together, they haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Once again pushed out of your seat, you frowned, only Younghoon goes: “that’s alright, we’ll let her eat in peace.” He shot a look at Sunwoo. “You haven’t been more of an evil bastard, have you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” But Younghoon was only there for the attic thing, and not the laptop-borrowing and all the bullying that’s been going on.

~

You knew Sunwoo was a bit of a perv to other people, but… he wouldn’t steal your panties, would he? It’s weird, because it happens sporadically—once when you still kept your clothes in your old room, and right now. It’s just that he took your favorite lacey, pretty-pink-and-yellow ones, so it’s hard to not notice.

You rifled through your closet in the attic trying to find the missing panties. You thought you’d wear them, just because Younghoon’s around and you need your intimates to feel sexy. But they’re nowhere around.

Sunwoo couldn’t have, right? He’s not that sick. But who else could have? Certainly not Younghoon, who only ever even smiles at you out of obligation.

You won’t confront Sunwoo, though, just to not embarrass the both of you. He’d just deny it anyway… And currently he was hogging the bathroom just because he knew you were planning to shower.

You’re clutching your change of clothes to your chest as you knock on the bathroom door, trying to word your commands as sweetly as you could: “Sunwoo, I need to shower before my appointment!”

“You can’t rush me,” he retorted. “I’m doing my 16-step skin care routine.”

“Sun—” Your yell got interrupted, as you froze on your spot, to see a half-naked Younghoon with a towel around his waist, coming up to you.

“Oh,” he says in realization. “You were waiting on him, too? Then you can go first—”

“No!” you gasped. “No, you should—if he decides to come out, that is.”

“Hey, it’s your home,” he offered with a friendly smile.

The door swung open, and Sunwoo marches out, also half naked but ineffective on your psyche. You knew he only came out because he heard Younghoon, not because he finally felt some pity for you.

“16 step skincare routine?” Younghoon says with a sing-song.

“It’s how I keep my face baby-soft, loser.”

“Looks rougher than those basketballs you throw around to me.”

Wordlessly, Sunwoo reaches for the towel around Younghoon’s waist, and pulls it towards him, laughing maniacally as it comes off, and he throws it into the air before exiting the scene. You turn away from both boys, staring off, holding a scream inside your throat.

“Hey,” Younghoon says with a laugh, “Y/N, it’s fine. I had boxers on.”

“Wh–What? Oh.” You bat your eyes until you’re seeing clearly; Younghoon had boxers on, those baggy plaid boxers perfect for lounging around if he were living alone.

You imagined him on the couch, absentmindedly watching the TV, manspreading, the outline of his dick thick and dark in the shadows it casted. He’d reach under the waistband of those boxers, eyes still fixated on the TV in front of him, and start palming his cock, until it grows pink and needy—

You drop your change of clothes you had just thinking of it, and Younghoon looks dumbfounded. As you both reach out to grab them off the carpeted floor, Younghoon’s body ends up so close to you, half naked, almost like a side-hug. You feel his chest against yours, body so warm and real and solid.

He’s so hot. You pull away. “Um, you should shower first,” you offered. “You’re… older, and all.” You ran back to your attic screaming internally.

Brother, you tell yourself, that’s your step brother. Jeez, please, chill out, Y/N!

But you just felt his naked chest against your body, like if he were holding you in bed—

What bed! You groan. You were sitting on the mattress in the attic with your towel and clothes, waiting for Younghoon to finish showering. You willed yourself to not think of what he looked like naked—you’ve already seen enough. A whole lot. And still it wasn’t enough or you?!

~

“It’s so perfect that Younghoon’s here!” your mom starts to say. You’re confused. Why? “I wouldn’t have trusted you two here, but with your big brother here, maybe me and your stepdad can go on a trip!”

Sunwoo just grunts in response. You’re aghast—not that you didn’t trust Younghoon, but even your mother wouldn’t defend you against Sunwoo’s raids—how would Younghoon?

But the older boy grinned at your two parents. “You two should have fun, mom and appa,” he said. “We’ll take care of the house.”

~~

Your parents were packing for the trip, as they hurriedly booked a hotel with a lakeside view. You sat on the bed in the master bedroom, helping your mother with her luggage. “Do you have to go?” You couldn’t bear thinking about what Sunwoo would be like if some adults weren’t around.

“Younghoon’s here,” your mom assured you.

The said man was currently leading against the door frame talking to his dad about sunglasses, and if they were gonna swim in the lake. You sighed, dreamily staring at him. Just all the fun you couldn’t have… From downstairs, you could hear Sunwoo loudly playing fifa.

“Younghoon’s very responsible,” says your step dad. “He was resident advisor back in college!”

“Nah.” Younghoon scoffed cooly. Since returning to town, he had cut his hair the way wall street brokers do—clean cut, full forehead showing, dark brown hair pushed aside. The perfect son-in-law look, too bad your mother already calls him son. “Resident advisors are assholes on power trips. I was just the guy that helped deal with them.” He grinned, shooting you a look. “Hey, young lady, before I forget, I brought you a present.”

You raise your eyebrow in confusion, gingerly following him out to the former guest room—which was better than Sunwoo’s current one, and big enough for two people. You’d be mad at both brothers, if only Younghoon wasn’t so goddamn nice.

“Here.” He handed you a neatly folded burgundy-brown hoodie, incredibly similar to the one he wears to bed. You couldn’t control yourself from bringing it to your nose, and it smells like him, freshly taken out of his luggage, where it had laid folded next to his cologne and aftershave. So heavenly, boyish, sexy. It felt like hugging him.

“Thanks!” you chirped to Younghoon. “You’re the nicest.” The hoodie was a medium version of the oversized one he wore to bed. It’s disgusting to make a coupling joke with your step brother, so you don’t.

You looked back at the luggage it had come from, and you just… thought of something. Wouldn’t it be so cool, if you could have Younghoon’s actual, well-worn clothes? Like one of his soft giant shirts? Something that was just entirely his?

You’re so stupid. But it’s just a crush—you just needed to get over it. Right?

Well, you thought, if Sunwoo could (allegedly) steal your panties, you could take Younghoon’s shirt.

~~

While Younghoon and Sunwoo had dinner on the empty first floor—your parents had left already, adding to the stillness—you had an amazing idea. A horrible, perverted idea, but amazing nevertheless.

You open the door to Younghoon’s room ajar so it didn’t creak, and rifled through his bag. Where was it, the pristine-bleached white shirt, with the badge on it, that makes Younghoon look like an Abercrombie model? Your hands brush against the cold glass of his cologne, and you bring it out to sniff the top.

Like a creep. At least you weren’t sniffing underwear or something, ew—it was just cologne. Expensive french cologne.

Everything in his luggage was oversized and therefore too conspicuous if you take it away, so you decided to go through his unfolded just-dried laundry, which he had just done. Going through the first couple items… something flimsy and lacey fell out of it.

You thought you knew what it looked like, so you grab it from off the floor. Your panties, the ones you lost. What was it doing here… You felt embarrassed by the thought of Younghoon seeing your panties, so you just pocket it, thinking it got mixed in from the washing machine—ugh! That’s so embarrassing.

Under the pile, you find the white shirt you were looking for, and giddily take it away. He’d just think it had gotten lost somewhere, right?

You take it and threw it up the attic, ready for whatever you were going to do with it. Emphasis on whatever.

You go back downstairs to greet the brothers like nothing happened, you knew you had to do their dishes soon, which you think was your duty—only, Younghoon is pressuring Sunwoo to do them.

“You can’t just not wash your own plate, loser.”

“Why not? I let our dear little sister wash them, all the time,” Sunwoo says with a laugh.

“Sunwoo…” Younghoon sounded like he was losing patience. “Be nice to y/n.”

“No,” Sunwoo retorted, “why should I?”

“You wouldn’t do this if you didn’t like her, though,” Younghoon said in a scolding, all-knowing tone. “If she was ugly you’d leave her alone—you’re too obvious. Have some respect for the person that gave up their room just so you could jack off in it.”

You could see Sunwoo’s face, but from the back you could see that he literally flinched, stepping backwards out of instinct. Younghoon didn’t care. “Now I’ll wash the dishes for tonight, but tomorrow you’ve got no excuses, okay?”

Sunwoo didn’t dare storm away, but he got out of the kitchen as fast as he could; you hid yourself behind the stairs until his footsteps disappeared into your old room.

You felt semi-bad about causing a fight between the brothers, so you gingerly approach Younghoon at the sink, where he was getting the water ready, and offered to fill in for him. “I… usually do those,” you say softly. “Let me?”

“Don’t worry about the dishes,” Younghoon assured you with a smile, “I’ll wash them—or Sunwoo will wash them. For this week, just relax, can you do that for me?”

He reacted to your surprised expression by ruffling your hair like you were a little kid, and then avoided your body to grab the dish-washing gloves.

Can you do that for me? Jesus, it sounds like ‘can you do that for daddy?’ like in every porn you’ve seen before. The way Younghoon stood up for you gave you a knot in your stomach, and not even the bad kind, which you were so concerned about.

Now you feel extra bad for what you were planning to do with his shirt.

~~~

You type in ‘stepbrother’ into the search box, already cringing, toes curled and fists clenched. Eww, you did not want to do this, but your neanderthal brain was telling you otherwise.

The guy in the video is a white guy, so different from Younghoon, but soon he’s feeling up his costar, while she pretends to be unaware. You wondered what you would do if Younghoon did that to you, although he wouldn’t. He was just so clean-cut, and didn't seem to have a hint of perversion in his head.

You started to think of Younghoon’s cock in those plaid boxers again, the thickness of the shaft, the whole head of it, although left to your imagination it grew hot in your mind; you started closing your eyes and teasing your clit with just one finger, thinking more about Younghoon than concentrating on the porn, until it was just a mess of moans to you and it was Younghoon acting it out with you, in your head.

“Yeah, you like your stepbrother’s cock that much?”

You grabbed the shirt now, the fabric thin from being so well-worn, and stuffed the fabric in your mouth, the scent of it—Younghoon’s smell, his detergent and after-shave and just him—around your face reminiscent of what it would be like if he were gagging you, three fingers in your mouth— “shh. You wouldn’t want mom and dad to catch us, would you?” You shivered already, toes curling as the thought of him fills you up the way your fingers filled your cunt up.

With the video still playing, you toyed with yourself mercilessly, as if you were trying to get a rise out of yourself, moans perfectly muffled by the shirt that there was no way either step brother could hear from downstairs.

You came to the thought of Younghoon, his kind eyes turning feral as he watched you this way, hand inside your soaked panties and your pajamas unbuttoned that he could see your chest; you imagined him standing over the mattress, watching like a freakishly tall stalker.

When you open your eyes, he’s not here, and the audio plays blaringly from your headphones as the actors crash into each other, less chemistry than you and Younghoon had. You spit the shirt out of your mouth, his scent still lingering.

“Ah, I love your fat cock!” “Yeah, your tiny cunt is squeezing all my milk out of me—”

You hurriedly close the tab, cringing. Ew, did people actually talk like that during sex? You’d only had it once—the one time you lost your virginity to some kid named Soobin in college—and it was done in complete silence and whispers and coos, nothing like the pornographic monstrosity.

You quickly delete your history from your laptop, in case Sunwoo comes to borrow it again—imagine if he’d found stepbrother porn in your history. He’d get the wrongest idea in the world.

Or what if Sunwoo figured it out? That you were head-over-pussy in love with the older Kim? That would be so fucked up, a new way for him to torment you. You could never let him figure it out.

~

“I’m having a party,” Sunwoo tells you, as if it wasn’t obvious from the way he was setting up food and beer and one-use cups. He toiled with a beer bottle in one hand, wondering if he should start drinking before anyone even got there. “Just don’t be here because I don’t want my friends making comments about you, or anything. Also, help me set up the chips table first.”

“You’re not in high school anymore, idiot,” you replied, having half a mind to slap the chips bowl out of his hands. But then he’d just make you clean it up. “And I’m not Cinderella to help you with a party I’m not even allowed to go to.”

“Okay, attic rat.” Sunwoo was fluffing up pillows. “Just be gone when they get here, understood?”

You looked around the house—Younghoon had left to meet his friends, and wasn’t there to defend you, and maybe Sunwoo is right, maybe you should haul out, you didn’t want his friends making comments about you, either.

You shot Sunwoo an indignant look, though. “Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s no way to talk to your brother.” He drinks the pre-party beer.

~

When Younghoon comes home from having coffee with his friends (Jacob and Kevin), it’s late and his house is up in lights and loud with Sunwoo’s new age rap blasting from the speakers, and the smell of alcohol and weed overwhelmed his every sense to the point that he could taste it.

He found his brother smoking with a girl in the back porch, and immediately dragged him back into the house by the nape of his neck, leaving the girl stranded there. “You threw a party?”

“I haven’t had the house to myself since forever—”

“All you gotta do is move out, you sock.” Younghoon looked around the house. “Where’s Y/N? You know if your troublemaker friends see her, it’s gonna be a whole thing.”

“She’s been gone since I told her we were having a party, I think,” says Sunwoo. “I told her to get lost, anyway.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Younghoon chides under his breath, but Sunwoo goes back to drinking his beer out of a used cup like he didn't hear him.

The party was continuing downstairs, and the 2nd floor was more deserted. Sunwoo’s loud rap music seemed to die down slowly as Younghoon got on the 2nd floor… and then started to unlatch the ladder towards the attic.

The sounds muted down completely once he’s in, and he quickly pulled the ladder back up to cover his traces, and also so no one could follow him and interrupt.

He started his routine of rifling through your underwear drawer, last time he got lucky with those pretty pink panties, so now he wanted something else, something just as precious and sweet that makes him cold-sweat from the tension in his lower belly. From the moonlight streaming in from the skylight, he finds a pair of panties, white with a ribbon on them, pretty but cotton instead of lace, and he decides, as good as any other. Younghoon brought it up to his nose, and smelled only the detergent and fabric softener, and not a sense of you.

Needing you desperately, he heads over to the bed, thinking of lying on the same mattress as you, trying to think of what you’d look like all these nights when you touched yourself, whatever you touched yourself to. He crawled on his hands and knees onto the mattress, thumbing over the panties like he would with your skin, until nipples hardened and tight little warm walls twitched.

~~~

You were awoken as you felt movement on the other side of the mattress. You’d fallen into a deep sleep since Sunwoo told you to get lost, thinking you’d crash at a friend’s for the night, but you’d fallen asleep even through the party. Goddamn it. Now who was in your bed?

You rolled over, until you were nose-to-nose with Kim Younghoon himself.

You screamed. “Younghoon?! What are you doing here?” But your bodies were so tangled in your sheets that he couldn’t get away from you, and was in fact actually tied together, you basically on top of him.

“Y—Y/n!”

“What is that you’re holding?” you ask; it’s too small to be a phone. Unless… no way.

Younghoon tries to shake off the feeling, but he’s still frozen in his flight responses, frozen while you touched him and wrestled the fabric out of his fists.

“My panties?!”

Busted. Younghoon’s face was heating up, even if you couldn’t see it in the dark. “I–I was—” he started. “Uh, just… going through your laundry?”

You’re the one frozen now, and Younghoon quickly disentangled himself from the sheets, uncovering the little white mass stuck in the foot of the mattress—holy shit. “Is that my shirt?!”

He picked it up. “It’s stained.” You have no words, so Younghoon looks back at you, grinning maniacally. “Were you being naughty?”

It’s horrible how his entire demeanor could change in a second. Under the blankets, he started to touch you, not even a little shy, grabbing you close by the waist so horribly hot and warm. “Ah, so you were cumming to the thought of me, your step-brother?”

“I—I’m sorry!” you squeaked. “Wait, my panties—are you—are we…?!”

“Do you want me?” Younghoon asks, voice dropping several octaves just so hoarse and sexy. In the dark, he stared at your form with glinting eyes. “I do,” he says when you wouldn’t. “I want you so, so… bad…” His fingers crawled up your bare thighs—you were wearing just a night dress, flimsy and short.

“You don’t even notice me,” you huffed.

Younghoon scoffed it off, although he looked concerned. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, “plus your mom and my dad wouldn’t have liked it if I kept staring at your legs, like Mr. Obvious downstairs. Although, I did stare, when you were just too… juicy to look away from.”

You’re aroused, it showed. “R–really?” you squeaked, trying to keep your hands to yourself. He was still wearing his outside clothes, a button down and actual tailored pants. He smelled like his normal cologne, too.

“You’re a sick, sick, girl, you know? Wanting to be noticed by your step brother…” His free hand cupped your face to make you face him, harsh against your skin. He hummed, as if deriving pleasure just from touching you. “But don’t worry, I won’t punish you or anything. You know I’m the nice one.”

“Younghoon…” Your hands go up to press against his shirt, although not pushing him away, yet.

You hear him hum again, this time with a little giggle. His hand is trailing up your bare thighs, now landing between your legs, at the very core where all the heat and pulsation were coming from… He prods it with just one long middle finger, rubbing against the nub and the slit—although it doesn’t catch your clit to stimulate you, the lewdness of your step dad’s son's hand behind on your bare cunt was doing enough.

“No panties,” he observed with a cocky laugh. “And wet. What, were you dreaming about me?”

You moaned his name again. “Please…” Your hands went to his shirt and grasped onto a bunch of the fabric, like pornstars grabbing on bedsheets. You could feel his heart, and despite his demeanor, it’s pounding so hard in his chest.

“How many fingers do you think you’re ready for?” he asked.

“Um… two.” That’s a good number to start. His fingers are long and thin, but bigger than yours anyway.

“Hmm, you are tight.” He was prodding you with one finger, and when he enters, two fingers in you—it’s almost too tight in you, too much, too soon. Stuffed up inside you, so foreign.

“Don’t worry,” he says, “oppa learnt a lot about making dumb little bunnies like you cum. I bet I can make you cum… hmm…” He flicked your nub, making you squeal. “... with just a flick of my finger.” He’s still laughing at how you were trying to compose yourself, and failing.

Suddenly the door to the attic unlatches, the stairs springing down. Your goddamn attic wasn’t lock-able, from either side. Goddamn it. Younghoon stops everything, his free hand coming up to cup your mouth, eyes wide in alarm. “Shh,” he whispers to you.

It was a couple of Sunwoo’s friends. “I don’t know if I want to go up,” one guy was saying. “There’s spiders, and it’s Kim Sunwoo’s house—who knows what kind of monstrosities he has lying around?”

“You want to do it in his parents’ room?” This was another guy.

Younghoon’s fingers were still inside of you, and slowly, they begin to curl, uncurl, curl… You suppress a moan by biting down on your tongue, but the guttural sounds threatened to spill out of your throat.

To silence you, Younghoon hurriedly planted a kiss to your lips, tongue fighting its way in and taking over yours, when you moan it’s right into his mouth, the sound getting muffled and tortured and he kisses you with more force. His fingers up inside of you are now working faster.

You think you’d scream if he didn’t stop—or also stopped—you shut your legs, but his long, veined arms are persistently still stuck and working between your thighs. When you open your eyes, you see the moonlight catch in his fanged teeth—he’s laughing soundlessly at your plight.

“This is creepy,” the partiers were saying. “I’m high, anyway, I think I’d fall of the ladder if I tried.”

“Right. We’ll go to his parents’ bedroom—if someone hadn’t beat us here.”

Younghoon looked at you, releasing you—both hands now away from you, body pinned against yours. The ladder was still down, the light from down the stairs spilling upwards.

“We should close…” you started to say.

He kissed the back of your ears, one hand pinning your arm down. “Mmm… I like knowing someone could walk in…”

“Hoon, we’re not meant to be doing this, we’ll get in trouble. You’re my step brother.” Now you really sounded like a pornvid reciting its lines.

Younghoon shushed you, parting your legs with his knee. Your bare pussy under his legs, you couldn’t help yourself from grinding against his thigh. “Such a bad girl,” he remarked in a strained voice. “Ah.” He lifted your leg up higher, and took himself out, rubbing the head against your cunt. “You want it?” His voice was still deep from whispering.

You simply nod.

“Use your words…”

“I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Tell me how much of a bad girl you are,” he says, tone still teasingly tantalizing. “Tell me how much you want your big step brother’s cock buried inside you.”

“I want my step brother’s cock in me, I’m so bad. I’m so… hnng, fuck…” You couldn’t reach the bed sheets, so you just grab Younghoon’s shirt again. You were making an untidy mess of his outside clothes, although he still had hair still perfectly parted like for an event, he looks amazing. And he’s inside of you, buried all the way, he zaps his head away from you just to make a guttural grunt. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so bad, you… you know that?” He pulls out, only to slam back in, and you squealed.

“Already? I haven’t even…” He’s now obeying the urgency in your eyes before you can even say ‘faster’. He’s quick and fast and thick and hard in you, and he’s starting to break out in sweat just from the heat of it all.

He tears the rest of the blankets away from your bodies so he could thrust into your pussy easier. You just hear his panting, and just to silence himself, he bites down on your shoulders, and up your neck. You hear “hnngg, yeah~” out of his lips, like he was having a hard time controlling his own pleasure spilling out from him.

You moaned. “Sunwoo’s gonna see these…”

“And think you’re a slut that fucked one of his friends,” Younghoon says. “Is that what you are? A dumb little whore that just spreads her legs for everybody?”

“N—no!” You’re doing everything just to not scream, but it’s excruciating holding it in. “I’m n–not a slut. I’m just a slut for—for you, Hoon…”

Younghoon laughed. “Is that right?”

He switched the position to missionary, holding you underneath him as he pounded your poor cunt, the same way he imagined he would when he was masturbating with your panties. You hear his strained panting again, his lovebites still stinging along your neck. You threw your head back and moaned.

“So, so wet… baby…” It grew sloppier, with sounds of the wetness of your cunt and his precum, disgustingly mixing. Younghoon fucked you harder now, knowing he had to pull out soon. “Fuck… fuck!”

Your hands crawl up from under his shirt, scratching his back. He was so big, every part of him… you sink your nails into his waist. “Ugh, Hoonie…”

He hurriedly took himself out of you, panting, to spill his seed on your stomach. You still had your nightdress on, and the cum got on it, white against white… It’s almost beautiful, a ruin of your innocence. It satisfied Younghoon enough, that he just fell back into the mattress beside you, catching his breath. “I’m… sorry…” he said. “Ugh, I feel like such a bad man.”

You wiped it off your belly with the dress, and then took it off. “No, I liked it,” you reassured him. You put the dress away into the laundry basket, and put on the hoodie that he’d given you, grinning at him. He had his eyes closed, slowly feeling the post-ejeculation clarity.

You crawled over and shut the latch, blocking it with a box so no one could come in. “Seriously, though… Sunwoo might see your hickies,” you say.

“Let him.”

“I don’t want him to call me a slut, to add to everything else he calls me.” There was a truthful sting in your voice that Younghoon felt the pain. He gathered you in his arms, until you were just cradled so tiny in his chest.

“Shh, it’s alright.” Younghoon kissed the side of your face again. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’ll sleep in my arms tonight.”

~~

“What the hell is that?” Sunwoo demanded at the breakfast table, cups still scattered around the kitchen counter.

“What the hell is what?”

“You got laid last night?”

“Kinda weird that you notice it when you can’t even get your eyes to open from the hangover,” you pointed out, “are you in love with me that much?”

He stuttered. The first time Kim Sunwoo had ever stuttered in his life, although maybe the hangover was giving him a brain fog. “Shut up.”

Younghoon was cutting you strawberries in heart shaped cutters and frying pancakes on another pan. He watched you out of the corner of his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Hey,” Sunwoo whines when Younghoon makes two portions—one for himself and one for you—and leaves him out. “Where’s mine?”

Younghoon pinched your thigh under the table, the way he did last night… you threw your head back and moaned a little from the pain.

“Whatever!” Sunwoo groaned. “I’ll probably just vomit everything back up, anyway—I’m gonna nap.”

As soon as he turned his back, Younghoon inched closer to you on the seat, lips attached to the same place he had sucked hickies on. “This is so fun,” he giggled. “And just the beginning of the whole of it.”

~~

Who wants part 2 where you fuck sunwoo too!! Tell me if i should write it ahahahhaa

[wolfvmin]

House of Cards: Final

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love (but is it really), pining wc: 30.8k (i know, i’m sorry) warnings: violence, niragi, spontaneously written at 2am and under the influence, chishiya is emotionally constipated, violence, mentions of sex, making out, mentions of murder, suicidal themes, slightly obsessive banda, season 2episode 7, reader is reckless, mentions of torture, daddy issues, smut, dry humping, nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it >:(), multiple orgasms, a little choking, doggy style, missionary  summary: the final games of borderland are upon you. it’s up to you and chishiya to navigate where you stand in this world and to each other.  a/n: IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG,, and thank you for 515 followers!! <333 ily ily :((( i’m sad this is the last part. also i think the aib fandom has been thinning lately </333. i took too long in writing damn. if anyone wants drabbles of the hoc couple i’d be down to write them! i really enjoyed writing this story. thank u for reading it! 

AO3 link ; Part 2 (Previous Part)

You still weren’t sure if you’d died in the Queen of Clubs game and hallucinated last night’s events. Neither of you was clear about what that kiss meant. Was it just in the heat of the moment? Was it Chishiya acting on his apology? Or perhaps a reciprocation of what you feel for him? You don’t know and you were too scared to ask. 

The kisses ended as the song ended. Chishiya pulled away as soon as that record stopped spinning. Then he smiled at you. A small one where the corners of his lips were slightly turned upward. It was a smile that could mean many things if we were talking about that white-haired guy. To make matters worse, that motherfucker turns around and leaves you alone in the living room, confused and somewhat turned on, without saying anything.

The light seeps through your closed lids and you try to block it with your right hand, scrunching your forehead in annoyance. Your other hand glides over the other side of the bed, searching for the man who slept beside you last night. The material of his shirt is soft against your palms, indicating that he’s still next to you in bed.

With your eyes open now, you see Chishiya who is still sleeping beside you. He looks so peaceful like this. Although it’s not the first time that you’ve woken up beside Chishiya, it’s somewhat different to find something familiar in the real world. 

You were sure you’d never see him again when you found yourself in this world. You’ve lost all hope to get back to your previous life. But he’s here. He’s real and beside you. Somehow, you don’t know if you’re lucky or misfortunate for this. Sometimes, you wish you never found him at The Beach. 

“Get back to sleep.”

He still had his eyes closed, forehead scrunching while he said that. You chuckle, his morning voice ten times more attractive to you. Suddenly, the tip of his nose is the next thing you fixate on. Using your index finger, you booped it, making his nose scrunch up and catching your hand with his. 

His eyes finally flutter open, staring at you intently. The only light in the room is from the sunlight seeping through the windows, you can see the reflection of it in his eyes. From this close distance, you can see his dark eyes’ irises in hazel brown. His skin looks a little bit rougher and his lips are drier than they did in the real world. Despite this, his lips still looked like it was beckoning you, whispering to be tasted as they did last night.

You turn on your stomach, leaning unto your elbows for support as you shift your body closer to his. The action was not easy, your body sore from all the fighting you’d done in the last game. His face is about an inch away from yours, so close that you can hear each other breathing. There’s a weight that is put onto the back of your neck and you quickly realize that Chishiya’s hand is there. 

He doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t push your head down to finally close the distance. He doesn’t even move his fingers. His hand just stays still there as you slightly hover over him. 

“Hey, Shuntarou. Will you marry me?” 

A wide grin spreads across your face when you ask him. In answer, the man’s face drops into a frown, his eyes unamused. “What? You kissed me last night. You have to marry me now.”

“I don’t think that’s what that usually entails,” he replies with his raspy voice, lips tugged to an amused smirk. 

“Can I kiss you again?” You ask, ignoring his sassy remark to your unserious question. Your gaze fell onto his lips once more. You were too scared of his answer to meet his eyes. So you wait.

Just like that, he finally uses his hand on your nape to push your head down, smashing your lips against his. Last night’s kiss was unexpected and serene. It was your first kiss with Chishiya and to you, it was perfect. However, this one right now is needy—like he couldn’t get enough of you. 

You weren’t a prude. You've shared a bed with men even if your heart was Chishiya’s. It was mostly due to curiosity, loneliness, and simply fulfillment of needs. And if you were being honest, you don’t know if Chishiya was even interested in matters of sex. You never really indulged each other in your sensual lives. And to be frank, you’d rather not think about Chishiya being intimate with someone else.

However, as he kisses you right now and how he gently pushes your shoulder with his other hand to lay your head on the pillow, you know that Chishiya knows a thing or two about pleasing his partner. His body hovers over you as his knee is between your legs and his hand beside your head. Your hands clung to his shirt as if to prove to yourself that yes, Chishiya Shuntarou, the love of your life and the man of your dreams, is melting you in a heated kiss on a bed you shared. 

You register the plumpness of his lips as you’re still in a bit of shock. Chishiya’s free hand slides to your waist and gives you a squeeze in order for you to fall back into the rhythm of his kisses. These lips that would often frown and smirk at you, how long have you imagined what they would feel like? They were warm, contrasting his cold exterior. Even warmer is his tongue as he darts it out to lick at your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, pulling him even closer to you by grasping his shirt down. 

It’s just so Chishiya to do things with ease and perfection. It seemed calculated and somehow erotic like he was communicating every word that he couldn’t say through his kisses. When he pulls away, it elicits a breathy gasp from you. Your eyes were wide open, blown out, and staring at him with glossy eyes. 

You’ve only felt this way a few times in your life, a number you can count with your fingers. Happiness, is it? 

It’s not high. It wasn’t addicting. You’ve experienced that a lot with fighting. But this… this feeling is so pleasing that it almost brings you to tears. This was the kind of happiness that brings you to disbelief. It makes you think, “Do I deserve to be this happy?” 

“More,” you plead, begging like you were an addict.

Chishiya hums, his deep voice sending you straight to heaven right there and then. He doesn’t lean in. Instead, he taps your cheeks with three fingers. Twice in a fast motion. 

To your disappointment, Chishiya removes himself from you and gets off the bed. He exits the bedroom and you were left on the bed, thirsty like a fish out of the water. 

You’ve put on new gym clothes. It was a black sports bra and active jogger pants. Chishiya was in the living room, reading a book he found somewhere lying around. It seemed he found something too. “I’m going for a jog,” you inform him, already stretching to start. 

Chishiya doesn’t even look at you. Typical. But you know he heard you and he wants you to be safe. It’s dangerous for both of you to keep going like this. Communication is much needed in every relationship, no matter what kind of relationship it is. You’re not sure if those kisses have changed anything in yours and you should really talk about it. However, what you really need right now is to sweat it out and gain some confidence to ask him.

Yesterday, you and Chishiya took the chance of having a long visa to lounge around all day. He never kissed you again and acted like how he was before. What he did do was not let you out of the bed, insisting that you should rest your injuries away for the day. You obliged. When have you not?

Now, it’s early in the morning and the sun has not even reached its highest. The apartment was near trees, you’ve gone just away from the center as much as possible. Chishiya said that after you join the next game, it’d be best to move out of there. He assumes that since the games would be going down one by one, the King of Spades would go around the edges of Tokyo to push everyone back into the center. 

As you were running along the sidewalks, you remember having morning jogs and stretching like this with Usagi, bringing Usagi and Arisu into your thoughts once again. They should be fine. Kuina too. Still, you can’t help but worry for them.

You’ve gone a bit far from the apartment, jogging by a short tunnel under a bridge. Before completely going in, you stop in your tracks, hearing something other than the wind whistling and leaves rustling. You focused on listening, hiding on the side and pulling a dagger from a strap on your leg. 

It was breathing. Difficult breathing. And sobs. Someone is crying. 

You’ve become careful with your steps, readying for anything as you approach the sound. Slowly, you reach the voice. It was one man, leaning against the wall of the tunnel. It was dark but you could see the gunshot wound on his head and the gun in his hand. He could barely move his mouth, dark red blood all over it. When he sees you, his sobs get louder. 

You stand near him but not approaching him closely. He raises his empty hand and points at something. You follow his gaze to your hand. He was pointing at your dagger.

Oh.

Your eyes darkened at what he was insinuating—what he was asking of you. 

“P-Please… end it.” 

This stranger was asking you to mercy kill him. Why? He was done for what he’d done. Why would he kill himself? You’re not sure he could even reply if you ask him.

His bloodshot eyes plead with you as tears and blood fall from them. You walk closer to the man, your hands slightly trembling. You wish you brought a gun with you. That way you wouldn’t have to use your hands for what you’ll do. You think about it first. Not if you’ll do it but how you’ll do it. You have a dagger. That’s all you have. You’ve brought it for emergencies but you didn’t think you’d actually have to use it. 

It would have to be the most painless way possible. 

“Lean forward,” you instruct the man in a low voice, completely dreading what you’re supposed to do.

The man, with all his strength left, removed himself from the wall. If you stab him repeatedly in the chest, he’d have to bleed out and die painfully longer. You have to strike somewhere else. His back was free for you to stab into. No matter how many deaths you’ve seen, it just doesn’t get easier. Especially if you’re the one to cause it. 

This is the first kill. A mercy kill. You’re doing this man a favor but making a burden to yourself. You know that if you do this, you’ll have to remember him for the rest of your life and somehow regret it. You weren’t a monster. You have darkness inkling inside of you that you don’t understand but you were still human. 

“T-thank you,” he was able to say as he spluttered blood onto the pavement. Tears well up in your eyes and your nostrils flare up as you take a deep breath.

Blocking your thoughts away, you strike your blade unto his back, just above his shoulder blade, severing the spinal cord. You remember this one lecture in med school where someone asked where would be the most painless way to stab someone to death out of sheer curiosity. This was the answer. 

You watch as his body falls sideways when you pull out your dagger, his blood painting the cemented ground and your hand. You wipe your hunting blade on his clothes and put it back on the strap of your leg. 

When death comes to collect him, his hands relax and their contents fall. Something scrunched up fell out of the hand without the gun, the one he pointed your dagger with. You pick it up and straighten it. It was a picture of him and a child. He was a father. 

Does that mean that child is dead? A father wouldn’t kill himself knowing he has a daughter back home. But would he? It’s possible. You don’t even know the name of this man. You don’t know what kind of person he is, much less a father. Sighing, you pick up his gun next. It was a Pistol. You could keep it but it was useless. Where would you get—

Oh.

For the second time in a few minutes, you were dumbstruck. Even if it was pointless, you couldn’t help but check the gun just to be sure. And you were glad you did. This gun… still had bullets, meaning you didn’t have to do it yourself. 

Your grip on the gun tightened, feeling a bit betrayed by this man. He hadn’t asked you to kill him because he was incapable and out of bullets. He asked you to do it because he was a coward to finish it himself.

Feeling a bit drained because of the revelations, you decide to head back to the apartment, carrying the gun in your hand.You push open the door, knowing you’ve left it unlocked. 

“I’m back,” you announced to not alarm your companion in the house. Chishiya was already in your line of sight, sitting on the couch which can be seen directly from the door. He wasn’t sitting there earlier. Was he waiting for you? 

Lifting his head from the book, he takes in your appearance. There was blood that splattered over you. Not to mention your hand that was still covered in blood and holding a loaded gun. He raises a brow as if waiting for an explanation. You shake your head, not wanting to talk about it. 

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” you press and head to the room to clean yourself. 

When you’ve cleaned yourself and changed your clothes, you stare at the gun on your bedside table. You sat down on the side of the bed, slouching, and then completely lying down and staring at the ceiling. You shouldn’t feel this way. You still helped the man. But still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed. Maybe that’s just how it is. This is how people are. In the end, he chose to die no matter who did it or how it happened. It’s fine to feel upset. But what happened already happened. 

Chishiya strides into the room, standing beside you and looking down at you. You groan, turning to your side to not see him.  “Go away,” you order weakly.  

You’d rather not tell him what happened. This will go away in a few days. But for now, your heart is too heavy to do anything else. So, for now, you hope Chishiya leaves it alone.

“I’ll join a Diamonds game.”

You scoff. “I said I’m fine—wait, what?” You sat up on the bed in disbelief. That’s what he was going to say? He wasn’t even going to check up on you? 

“You’re staying here. You need more rest,” he adds. 

You shake your head. “What? Are you kidding? No!”

He stares at you, giving you that nonchalant expression again. This was non-negotiable. He really didn’t want you anywhere near the Diamonds game. 

“I’ve won a Diamonds game once.” It was true. Your first game was a Diamond. You were capable of a Diamonds game. Just because you threw away medicine doesn’t mean you were not smart. “What if only one survives? That’s not limited to a Hearts game, you know?” 

You couldn’t answer. 

“I’ll go,” he repeats. “Stay here.”

“When?” You ask him, lips jutting out almost into a pout. Your frown and scrunched-up forehead should tell him that you still don’t agree with this. “Tomorrow.” 

You put your head down. If he’s going to join a game, you couldn’t just wait around here for him to come home. It’s going to make you officially go insane, being alone here in Borderlands. 

You’ve never been alone since you met Usagi. Ever since you met her, you couldn’t believe you found an actual pure person here. She was a good friend and just like she’s done for Arisu, she’s the reason why you’re still alive and fighting for yourself.

It was time to join a game by yourself again. 

“Fine,” you say without looking at him, fronting how you’re just agreeing with him but already decided that you’ll leave once he’s out of sight.

He doesn’t say anything and just walks out of the room, finishing the conversation. 

You gave Chishiya the silent treatment the whole night. Were you sulking? Maybe. But you can’t really blame him. You were just upset. Was that a crime? You can be upset right? A person doesn’t have to be understanding every time. When you woke up, he was still beside you, staring at you with those deep brown eyes. Why is he looking at you like this? 

“What?” you deadpanned. 

“I’ll come back.” It wasn’t to assure you. It wasn’t a promise. It was simply a statement. He’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You trust him, yes. But maybe the reason you’re upset was because of something else. Worry? But not just for him. For him and yourself. 

What if you don’t come back from the game you’re joining? That would be a shame. He won’t even know and just find you gone. But he won’t allow you. So if you don’t allow him now, you’d be a hypocrite. 

“I know,” you answer softly, laying your armor down, and giving up the fight. He sits up on the bed, tugging on his white jacket that was folded by his bedside table and wearing it. It was cute to you how he still wears it. 

“We have many days left on our visa. Does it have to be today?” You ask him, sitting up too.

“I want to clear the games as fast as possible,” he answers. 

You understand that he wants to clear the Diamond games himself. What for? Absolutely nothing but curiosity and interest. He finds them fun and challenging even if his life was on the line. Sometimes, you think you worry more about his life than he does. 

He knows he’s clever. You know that too. But sometimes, he really needs to realize that he isn’t immortal or anything. You sigh. “A game could take days. What do I do here?”

“Rest. Did you forget you have an injured leg?” He was putting on his shoes now, turning his head for a second to give you a look. 

“No. But it’s fine now.” You really did feel better about your leg. “I want to look for the others.” 

“When I come back.” He refuses again and stands up, ready for his day. You poked your cheek with your tongue. He really doesn’t want you out of this house, does he?

The rest of the day goes by quietly. He planned to leave in the afternoon. So, you still had a meal with him before he left. Chishiya leaving was uneventful. He didn’t kiss you goodbye or offer you any words of assurance. He just… left. However, he did remind you to rest. 

But rest, you didn’t. 

You gave Chishiya 30 minutes before you left. It was 30 minutes for him to get far enough for you not to see him outside. It was getting dark and cold. You’ve decided to put on a hoodie, covering your sports bra. You slung the sword Kuina gave you over your shoulder and put your dagger back in its sheath that was attached to a wrap over your leggings. You figured that the gun might come in handy to you if you ever come face to face with the King of Spades. So, you took that too, putting it inside your small belt bag.

You head over to the nearest Spades game, knowing it will be a long walk. 

You were about 45 minutes away from the apartment and looking for a working car. However, you were failing. Every car out here is trashed. Plus, you weren’t very knowledgeable about fixing them up. 

So you had no choice but to walk.

Getting a bit tired, you decide to sit down on the sidewalk. 

However, not even five minutes of your resting have passed, you hear a scream. And then gunshots. Not just any gunshots. Rifles. 

You immediately stand up, hearing that dreadful sound could only mean one thing. 

And then you see the woman screaming, running with a few people behind her. 

The King of Spades was here.

You get on your feet, hearing and seeing his blimp in the sky. Your sneaker-clad feet pounded against the cemented ground, breathing steadily as your lungs pumped. Fuck. You can’t face him alone. 

You just ran, always choosing the safest option of direction while avoiding the gunshots. One direction led you to another then another, until you lost sight of the Spades game’s blimp. You were forced to go the other direction to another game. 

You ran and ran until you didn’t hear the gunshots anymore. Then you see it. A blimp for another game that wasn’t a Spades or Diamonds. It wasn’t your target but it also wasn’t Chishiya’s. 

Can you do it?

You don’t know which is more depressing: you ending up in a Hearts game or the grey walls of Teio Prison. 

PUT ON A COLLAR AND GO UPSTAIRS TO THE CENTRAL GUARDROOM

There were two collars left on the table. Shit. It’s the exploding kind of Heart game, huh? 

With a frown, you get one of the collars and clasp it around your neck. It makes a blip sound and some kind of shuffling sound. What could that be? Whatever it is, you know it’s no good.

Sighing, you make your way to the central guardroom, taking all your time in the world and observing the dark penitentiary. It’s giving you the creeps. You thought about what might have you waiting here. A Hearts game in prison? You really should’ve joined a Spade game. Man, fuck the King of Spades. This is all his fault. You just hope that Chishiya is doing well at a Diamon—

Chishiya?

As soon as you lift your head from looking at the stairs you were climbing, your line of sight catches that damned white jacket and white hair. What was he doing here? Didn’t he say he’d join a Diamonds game?

You didn’t let the shock show through your movements or countenance. Instead, you turn to your right and lock your eyes with him as you stand over the nearest wall from the stairs. 

Everyone was reserved and kept themselves at a distance from others. It wouldn’t look good if you just walked over to him like old buddies at a fair. It’s better to be strangers. But oh, he was mad. 

With the way his brows were slightly furrowed and his jaw was clenched, you try not to avoid his gaze and cower right there and then. Beside him, the agitated man in overalls follows Chishiya’s gaze over to you and then he whispers something to him. This made you look away, afraid he’ll know of your relations. While you busy yourself with observing the other players, you’re sure Chishiya made up a lie about you. 

You hear soft steps on the staircase and you know that the game is about to start. You notice that their feet were intentionally light. There was only one collar left downstairs. The person going up should be the last player.

He stops right at the end of the stairs, looking around at all the players who were avoiding his gaze. Well, except you and Chishiya. Lastly, his gaze lands on you who was right beside him. The corner of his lips curled up into a subtle sinister smirk. You raise a brow, tilting your head to the side. You already don’t like this guy. You poked your cheek with your tongue and crossed your arms, about to address his condescending stare when the screen attached to the wall lights up, indicating the game is starting. 

DIFFICULTY LEVEL Jack of Hearts 

The odd man’s eyes stray from yours when the automated voice is heard. You both look at the screen and listen attentively.

GAME SOLITARY CONFINEMENT

Rules:

Guess the card suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you may not look at the symbol yourself. This game is about how much you can trust one another.

The time limit is one hour per round.

In the final five minutes, enter the cell and state your symbol. 

When the time limit reaches zero, your collar will reset and change for each round. 

Beware that your opponent, the Jack of Hearts is hidden among you.

Looking at your symbol through reflection is not allowed.

Players may not use weapons or violence to kill fellow players.

GAME OVER If you do not guess your correct symbol, your collar will explode.

GAME CLEAR You win when the Jack of Hearts dies.

As the other players react to the rules and other details of the game, you are left to think for yourself. There’s no limit of hours to this game which means that betrayal is inevitable if we want to get out of these depressing walls. Someone has to lie to the Jack, kill him, and clear this game. Anyone could be the Jack, even Chishiya.

The game will now commence.  ROUND ONE

It’s complete silence as the buzzer rings throughout the penitentiary, indicating the start of the timer for an hour. The players are eyeing each and every one, probably looking for a trustworthy face to dictate their suits and fate. At least, now you know that Chishiya wouldn’t lie to you about your suit. Should you just go ahead and partner up with him? It shouldn’t look suspicious, right? 

Some players began to partner up as you still stand like a wallflower, watching as they form groups. 

“So, the 20 of us need to eliminate each other until we somehow figure out who the Jack of Hearts is.” A tall man in corporate attire speaks out loud, speaking to no one in particular beside the first two guys who decided to partner up. “What makes you think that anyone is trustworthy?”

The two guys who were just eager to tell each other’s suit began to grow wary, stepping away from each other hastily. Your brow furrows at this man. He was right but his aura exudes something dark and clouded, just like the man beside you who last joined the game. Could either of them be the jack? 

An arrogant-looking bald guy in chains that previously stood in the middle of the guardroom makes his way in your direction. Your senses are heightened, alert for any cause of disturbance. However, he shifts his way to your right, heading to the nervous-looking man in a blue checkered shirt with a smirk. 

He corners him, no doubt going to pressure him into telling him his suit. He’s a bully that found a mouse to play around with. That’s a wrong move. You watch from your peripheral as the man quivers and shakes from the bald man. “Tsk,” you couldn’t help but react distastefully. Thankfully, the bald man didn’t notice. It was taking everything in you not to intervene. 

The man beside you, however, hears your displeased reaction. Unfortunately, this puts his attention back on you. So you speak, gathering it’d be better to speak to someone, at least. If he was Jack, then he’d want to hear your next words.

“This game…” you utter in a low voice, wanting him to be the only one who hears. “Isn’t going to be cleared through shit like that.” 

The other players began to form a large group with the girl in a blue dress leading it. From the looks of it, this girl is also not to be trusted. Getting involved with a large group offers a far larger chance of betrayal. Especially with one person leading it and others blindly following whatever this person’s decision may be. 

“Forcing,” you refer to the bald man who was still bullying the blue-checkered shirt guy into telling him his suit. “Control,” you refer to the girl who has now gathered most of the players. She’s only put herself more at risk now that she aimed for control. Things could easily turn around if they don’t like the way how she handles things. And you could already tell. From here, she reeks of being fake and two-faced. That group should be the last choice for you. 

“This game is about trust.” You sigh. It seemed fairly easy but you could already tell that this game is going to be a messy representation of humanity. It seemed so fitting—a Hearts game of this difficulty being a face card. 

It’s a clever game, you have to admit. By now, every player in Borderland knows that you should never willingly enter a Hearts game with someone you want to get out of this world with. But this one puts you in a position of needing to have that someone with you in order to survive this game. No matter what, as long as you have one player you have here who you know you can trust, you’ll be able to walk out of here. 

You walk off, not waiting for the guy’s response. There was one hour for each round. You’re sure you can find a partner a little later if Chishiya won’t agree. It’s only the first round and you don’t think even the Jack of Hearts would start killing now. 

For now, you really need to see the food supply they were so proud of. As you head downstairs, you realize that the guy beside you followed you as you register his footsteps when you snapped out of your deep thoughts about the game. You stop in your tracks, waiting for the man to address what the hell is he after. Did he want to be partners? Well, you don’t really think that that’s a good idea for you.

“You’re that L/N.”

You turn around, looking at the source of the voice and the person who seems to know of your heritage. Without the thought of Chishiya startling you, you’re able to focus clearly on the man in front of you. He looked not older than you and Chishiya, a little taller than the both of you too. He was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt with an inner white shirt. His hair is dark and his eyes were tired, bags under them, and yet he did not look as tired. Instead, his eyes glimmer of malice and unexplainable darkness as he gives you a smirk.

“And who are you?” You question the man in front of you. You can’t quite put your finger on it but the man looked familiar—like you’ve seen him before Borderland. 

“Banda Sunato.” Again, familiar. You’ve heard of it, you’re sure. Was he famous for something? A family friend? A rich person? You really should've paid attention to the television more. 

Something tells you not to trust this man. This was a Hearts game, after all. No one could be trusted. Yet, if you partner yourself with Chishiya, who knows where that will lead? It’s unsafe and he’s a little mad right now. Truthfully, you are too. What can you say? You both are a stubborn bunch. 

“Banda? It’s familiar,” you truthfully ask him for some reason.

“Should be. I was in the news for a while.” The smirk hasn’t been wiped off his face. From then on, you were sure. Just like Niragi, this man is bad news. 

So you turn around again, ready to walk off and head to the food supply. However, a hand on your shoulder stops you. A glimpse of white flashes your eyes from above and you look up for a few seconds, meeting Chishiya’s eyes who were watching you from the floor above, leaning against a wall beside the man dressed in a yellow striped shirt and denim overalls. His jaw is clenched, lips tight, and even from his crossed arms, you see the tight fists forming from his hands. My, he’s almost making a frown too.

You don’t turn around to face Banda again but you break eye contact with Chishiya. You wait for him to speak and look at his frail hands on your shoulder. His hands are gentle, the perfect way to lure you in. You can see from the way his hands looked rough yet delicate—this man cannot fight. Worst comes to worst, you can take him down. But that didn’t matter. This is a Hearts game which means that most of these players are Hearts specialists, no doubt him being one too. You have to be smart about this. You can’t punch your way out of this one.

“I’m a serial killer,” he adds. 

You raise a brow, slowly turning your whole body to face him again. How could he just throw that out of nowhere like it’s a well-sought and respected occupation? And then you remember. Banda Sunato. It was what? One or two weeks? He was all that the news held. He was known to have murdered about four people, specifically women. A real psychopath heading for death row. It gives you the chills, having a real-life murderer standing in front of you and taking an interest in you. 

Does this man scare you? Maybe a little. Should you partner up with him? The normal and sane response would be no but there’s this irrational thought that keeps persuading you that maybe you can actually get through the game with this criminal. 

If what Asaki said in the Queen of Clubs game was real then it really is up to the citizens to design games. A serial killer designing a game inside Teio Prison. It seemed to fit like a puzzle that he would be the Jack of Hearts. 

That’s how you know that it’s possible that he might not be it. It was too easy and too obvious. 

“Are you asking me to partner up with you?” You ask with a poker face, jutting your chin up to compensate for the height difference. It’s funny how a murderer was asking you to trust him. It has to be the most stupid insinuation you have heard in your life. 

“I agree with what you said back there.” He answers, referring to what you said before walking off. “So I’m telling you who I am. It’s your choice, hospital princess. Will you trust a serial killer in this world?” 

Right now, you badly wanted to look up at Chishiya who is no doubt watching from the floor above. You want him to give you some kind of advice or answer for you. But you know he won’t. You’re on your own for this one. You sigh, mirroring his smirk and tilting your head. Don’t let him think he bothers you. “Can I think about it? I’m really hungry.”

“Of course,” he replies. And with one nod, you walk away from him, still feeling the serial killer’s eyes on you until you get away from the center of the lower floor. 

The cafeteria was indeed filled with shelves of food and drinks. As you stare at a wall of food, you are overwhelmed with the choices, not being used to seeing multiple foods that are actually still edible and you didn’t have to check their expiration date. You roam your eyes around, looking for something good to eat.

And then you spot that yellow bag of biscuits. Chishiya’s favorite. Seeing it made you grin to yourself. Oh, he’s gonna be so happy. Too bad you didn’t really like those cookies.

There were ramen cups and instant rice too but you figure that a snack would suffice so you grab yourself a packed strawberry cake roll and a chocolate drink. You missed sweets so much. You’re tired of eating instant noodles and whatever canned goods you could find in convenience stores.

There were a few people in the cafeteria. You didn’t like any of them as you stared at them. They stare at you too, probably working out if you were the Jack of Hearts. You give them a smile, one that is confident. Then you give them a nod, one that is out of respect. And then you leave the cafeteria.

You ate the sliced cake roll while walking around the penitentiary, observing the people and keeping the chocolate drink in your hoodie’s pocket. 

No one seemed like a safe option. The big group, the bald man and his mouse, the couple in business attire, Chishiya, and Banda. These are your options. 

And finally, you approach Chishiya and his partner who awfully reminds you of Minions because of his outfit. “Hey,” you talk to the overalls guy, purposefully ignoring Chishiya. “Do you guys have room for one more?”

The guy stutters, looking over to Chishiya for some kind of confirmation. Wow, he already trusts him this much? 

“We’re part of this group already,” Chishiya answers for him and points at the blue-dress girl. So they joined the big group? Huh. You wonder why. You know he knows that big groups are dangerous. Once one person’s trust is lost, they’ll go down like dominoes. 

It doesn’t matter, then. You only need Chishiya’s trust. But it seems that he doesn’t want you to join him here.

“Huh,” your reply now was for Chishiya. It’s crazy. He’s driving you insane. Is he still mad that you joined a game? If he cares so much about you then why won’t he just tell you your suit and—you don’t know, keep you alive? 

You place the last roll of cake in your mouth, chewing in front of the two guys. You give a nod at Chishiya who stares at you with curled-up lips, anticipating your next move.

This is dangerous, what you’ve decided to do. 

You could ask Chishiya again or his partner what your suit was and join their big group. But you don’t want to. 

You take a step back and Chishiya’s smirk drops. He wasn’t expecting that. He thought you’d try and persuade him to let you join his partnership with Ippei.

A strange feeling tugs your heart as you walk away from Chishiya. His presence is comforting. It calms you down in this game. And yet, you are walking away from him—from both your safety.

You aim to find the Jack of Hearts yourself. And you won’t be able to do that hiding from Chishiya’s back. 

As if on cue, Banda walks into the central guardroom with another guy behind him. He was tall and had this fringe covering almost half of his face. So he already found a partner after all.

“Replaced me so quickly?” You ask with a smirk as you punch your straw in the chocolate drink. 

“So you’ve decided.” His voice is as sinister as his whole being. It scares you. A lot. But you think you can trust him. You think.

“They all seemed… boring,” you answer truthfully. 

The man behind him watches you carefully and you give him a slight wave. “What’s up? I’m Y/N.”

“Matsushita,” he replies simply. 

You turn around, pulling off your hoodie and hair away from your nape. 

“Heart.” It was Banda who answered, then it was confirmed by Matsushita. 

You ask them if you need to tell them theirs but they said there was no need. You shrug, they must’ve already told each other. 

And so you were in Banda’s group. This is gonna be hella interesting.

You sit by the two guys as the hour passes, watching the other players interact and talk to each other. You don’t doubt that Banda told you your real suit. The killings won’t start yet. Not in the first round. 

“Are you not going to doubt me?” Banda asks you as you sit next to each other against a wall. Matsushita stands beside you, no doubt listening to your conversation now. 

This Matsushita—you don’t like him. He seemed quietly arrogant. Those are the worst kind of assholes. 

“No,” you admit. “You’re not going to lie to me yet.” 

“You still don’t trust me?” He asks but he knows the answer to that. “Then why would you join me? Your life is in my hands now.”

Your mind brings you back to a certain blonde-haired man. His smirks and his clever words. “I like my men a little deranged,” you answer with a shrug.

There was silence between you for a few seconds. The sound of your drinking is the only thing heard. Although you’ve long strayed your eyes from Banda, you still feel his eyes on you. He was thinking deeply, calculating you like a math problem. 

“You don’t like your life outside Borderlands,” he concluded. You pause, turning your head to look at the psychopath. What was he saying? “You’re reckless but smart. You know what you’re doing here. And yet you still paired up with me knowing I’ve murdered for nothing but pleasure. What makes you think I won’t kill you?” 

You scoff. “You won’t kill me in the first round. There needs to be some kind of push before the killing starts. Like a hand triggering dominos.” He listens to you and doesn’t answer for a while, thinking while a sinister smile spreads on his face. You know you’re right. 

“Just as I thought,” he answers before standing up.

The timer turns zero as he stands up and the voice of the game speaks again. 

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement of your choosing.”

You walked side by side with Banda, stopping at a door next to his. From your peripheral, you could see that Chishiya chose a door two doors down from yours. You’re pretty sure you’re safe for the first round but you can’t help but panic. 

You enter a cell. It’s small and even more depressing than the outside. 

“Please give your answer.”

The speed of your heart beating rises, constricting the air in your lungs. An exploding neck should be one of the most gruesome ways to die in Borderlands. 

You calmly close your eyes, tuning out the panicked thoughts in your head. 

“Heart.”

Silence. 

A rush of relief passes you. Just as you thought. No one is dying in the first hour. 

You step out of the cell at the same time as everybody else does. Banda’s eyes were already on you when you looked at him, giving you the same sinister stare. You wink at him in return before walking off to follow the other players, not even staying to see his reaction.

“Round 2 begins now.”

In the center guardroom, the big group began to thank each other for being honest. You sat on your spot before, in the middle of a sitting Banda and a standing Matsushita. 

“I wonder how long is this going to go on for?”

Matsushita verbalizes the question in your mind. If there’s no trigger, the real game wouldn’t start. But it has to be soon. If not and all the players really are going to be honest with each other, then soon we’d be stuck in this prison in an endless cycle. Even if the food supply is abundant, each round lasts an hour. It’d be exhausting. One can’t get much sleep in an hour. We’d go insane in these dry walls.

“Either the Jack will start to kill or someone afraid of the Jack will start to kill. As Y/N said earlier, until a trigger happens, this will never end.” Banda’s the one who answered Matsushita’s question. 

Before you could give your thoughts, a body slams to the floor next to Banda. It was the boy in the blue-checkered shirt, being thrown off by the bald man in chains. 

“I told you to give me the answer!” The arrogant man screams in frustration. Everyone goes quiet as they watch the situation unfolds. This man couldn’t be more stupid, thinking he would win by using his fists over his partner. 

He was about to attack the man with a kick but you move faster than light, standing and throwing a kick to the man’s stomach before he could hurt the boy, sending him flying and landing on his bottom and away from you. You don’t know why you did it. You couldn’t stop yourself from saving him. Maybe it has become all too pathetic or too painful to watch. At times like these, you really miss Arisu and Usagi. You know they would’ve done the same. Maybe even better than you. 

“What the fuck?!” The man reacts, staring at you with glaring wide eyes. 

From behind you, Banda moves to the boy on the floor, whispering in his ear. You hear it all clearly. While he was asking if the boy was alright, he whispers that he should tell him his suit is a Club.

It was the wrong answer.

The man quickly stands up, glaring at you along the way. He heads for the boy again and you wanted to interrupt if it weren’t for you catching Chishiya’s gaze of disapproval and Banda holding your arm. You glance at Banda's hand on your arm and he lets go, walking back to his spot while the bald man begins holding the boy by his hair.

Don’t get involved, you could almost hear Chishiya’s voice in your head. It’s what he would say to you in this situation.

“Looks to me that you want another beating.” He punches the boy in the face and you put your head down. 

“Give me the answer!” He raises his fist, threatening to throw another punch if the boy doesn’t speak.

“C-club!” The boy stuttered out an answer.

“Huh?!” The man wants him to repeat it louder.

“Club!” he answers, firmer this time yet he still closes his eyes, readying himself for another punch.  

The fist doesn’t come. Instead, the man taps his face like he’s a good dog. “Don’t wait so long next time.” And he lets go of the boy’s hair roughly, making the boy lean on his palms to support himself again on the floor. Then he collapses his body on the floor, curling up and turning into a sobbing mess.

The man passed by Chishiya and his partner, walking through the other players and all of you could see clearly. 

The bald man’s symbol is a Diamond.

“It’s the trigger,” Banda whispers in your ear, making the hair at the back of your head rise. Ah. That’s why he manipulated the boy into saying the false suit. It was to finally start the game.

It didn’t matter now. All is said and done. The boy lied in front of everybody by choice. The wall of trust is broken. 

The game is finally starting… and you couldn’t help but think that it’s your doing.

Just as expected, the lies and mischief started when the bald man’s neck blew up. Everyone is scared, wondering if they’re going to be next.

To make matters worse, the big group recruited the boy who first lied. You can tell that Urumi, the girl in the blue dress, wanted to eliminate him in case he was the Jack. Having such a mischievous leader, that group is going to end up in flames.

“You’re no princess, after all.” You don’t know if Banda is talking about your eating habits or show of skill in the previous round. 

Still, you glare at Banda as you eat potato chips this time around, craving something salty. There was silence as you two sat side by side in the central guardroom. Matsushita has gone to the cafeteria to get some snacks of his own. 

You wonder what Chishiya was doing right now. He’s in the cafeteria with the big group. You’re incredibly bored.

“Underground fighter,” you suddenly say. Banda doesn’t answer but you know he’s intrigued and listening.

“I’m an underground fighter,” you finish your sentence. 

“I see,” he replies as if that answers a lot of questions for him. “Blood, sweat, and glory. It appeals to you.” 

You nod. “I’m a Spades player.”

“Then you’ve definitely fought harder here than back there in the real world.” 

He was right. You thought back to the games you were in—all the games where you had to fight for yourself. It was life or death and yet it gave you that feeling of rush. To put your life on the line gives you an unexplainable feeling that you loved and craved.

“You crave death.” His sudden words make you freeze. “You’re not afraid of being hurt because you want it. You like it more when it’s about to kill you. Because you want it, don’t you? The reason you’re so reckless is that you have nothing to lose. It doesn’t matter if you die today or tomorrow. It’s why you partnered up with me. Because you’re more at risk with me.” 

His face has become awfully close to yours, inches away. He hadn’t put on a smirk this time. Instead, he stares at your soul like he’s known you all your life or he can read you like an open book. Unlike Chishiya, you found nothing but an abyss in his soulless eyes. 

Was it true? Is the reason why you loved fighting so much… because you’re suicidal? You thought about it a lot. That maybe one night, you might just meet your match and finally die in that ring. No one will know. You’ll just disappear into thin air. That was how the underground worked. It was a thought that scared you but somehow calmed you.

If this doesn’t work today, then you’ll just die. But every night, you prove yourself wrong. You win. Was it just a battle with yourself that you deserve to win with the risk of dying?

“What shall you do?” He tilts his head to the side. “I think I plan to keep you alive until the end.” 

The shake in your eyes is probably noticeable now. So you furrow your brows. This man is not the Jack of Hearts. He wants to win this as much as you do. But why? You assume that this is just fun for him, seeing so many deaths. 

Fine, you’ll play the game.

“I want to live,” you firmly say. 

“Why?” He asks. “Why do you want to live?” 

It was almost the same question Chishiya asked you back at The Beach. While Chishiya asked you what was so valuable about your life in the real world, Banda asked you why you want to live. It’s just two questions—two questions that are somehow related to each other. Unfortunately, you don’t have the answer to that yet. Life has never appealed to you. It brought you more bad than good and yet you want to live. Do you deserve to? Probably not. But you don’t care. As long as you can, you will fight to live. 

“So I can live freely. Here.” A lie. But you sensed that that’s what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t much of a secret. If you’re a criminal on trial, which is a better world to be in? A boring, stupid world where you’re on death row or a cruel one where people die every day? Where everyone is equal? Where it doesn’t matter how rich or poor you are or what you’ve done or what you haven’t done? Where all that matters is you play the game and survive? You… what would you choose?

He seemed satisfied with your answer, pulling away and looking ahead with his hands on his knees again. “I think… this world is a perfect one.” 

You couldn’t believe it. Did you just agree to an invitation to live in Borderlands? Maybe that’s really how this all ends. When you win the games, maybe it will just be your turn to make them. And then what? Maybe this is really Hell and you’re supposed to die here. 

If you’re a citizen, then you would probably work on the Spades games. Banda would definitely be in charge of Hearts. What about Chishiya? He’ll be in Diamonds, for sure. Is it really possible? A world where you and Chishiya could rule and be free? 

You shake the thoughts away. No. This can’t be it. If that were to happen, then you’re not free. You won’t ever be. Not here. You thought back to that man in the tunnel and what he made you do. You don’t want any of that any more than necessary. You won’t have blood on your hands anymore.

And just like that, an agreement is made between you and the serial killer. 

You’ll work together to know more about the citizens. Meaning, you have to catch the Jack of Hearts and interrogate him into telling you more.

For the next round, the boy in the blue-checkered shirt did not survive the lies of the big group. As expected, he isn’t the Jack of Hearts. 

You were getting some snacks in the cafeteria with Matsushita, even getting some food for Banda. You haven’t seen him eat at all the whole game. Are psychopaths incapable of knowing when to eat too?

You notice Matsushita getting the same brand of biscuits that he has been getting each round. Were those really good? You know you’ve tried them once before and there wasn’t really anything special about it. Nah. There was something off about it. How could he just keep getting the same snacks?

Chishiya’s group is mostly at the cafeteria during the rounds. Though, instead of sitting with them, he’s usually at a table beside them with the minion guy whose name you learned is Ippei. He’s just there, eating away his damned biscuits. Sometimes, he would even put four pieces into his mouth while staring into your eyes. Damn, he really missed them, huh?

From what you’ve eavesdropped on, things are starting to get messy with the big group. The blue-dressed girl is starting to turn on her members one by one. Now, you realize that the sole purpose of her making the group is to gain control over who dies first. As if she could get the Jack that way.

For the next few rounds, they fall like dominos. Their pictures are blacked out on the screen as if they’re players on a game show. They were visibly and loudly stressed, the members of the big group. Soon, they’ll be out like a light.

By round nine, you noticed that Chishiya and Ippei were somewhat separated from the group but are still there, opting to not include themselves in their arguments. He really just needs Ippei, you think. 

Banda has been keeping you alive so far. And you don’t think he’s been lying to you so far in any of your conversations alone with him. However, it’s Matsushita that has been suspicious. 

You have a feeling that he’s planning to eliminate Banda somehow. But you aren’t sure how. Does he think Banda’s the Jack of Hearts? 

And those biscuits. You’ve figured it out by round six. He’s communicating with the girl in office attire, the one with the boyfriend who was keeping her away from all the other players for protection. Yaba and Kotoko are their names if you remember them right from the screen. 

If the girl’s communicating with Matsushita then that means that she doesn’t trust her partner. From afar, Matsushita and Kotoko looked awfully submissive to their partners, Yaba and Banda. So, they’ve been scheming, acting like they’re being controlled.

Then it was just seven of you. You, Banda, Matsushita, Yaba, Kotoko, Chishiya, and Ippei. 

Ippei has been distressed the whole game. Unlike the people here who have been tainted by the games, he was pure. You’re glad Chishiya found a partner like him. 

But he’s wavering. And not in the way the others wavered into lying to save themselves. In fact, the boy looked disgusted with all the lies and killing. Just how did he survive all those games before?

“Y/N.” 

An agitated beckoning whisper pulls you back from your worry for Chishiya’s well-being and partner. It was Matsushita, looking around like he was wary of someone.

Huh. He’s going to try and eliminate me.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning worry.

“Did you know that Banda’s a serial killer?” He asks like it’s new information.

You raise your brows and freeze from getting a snack on the shelf, turning your head to the man acting like you are in pure shock. “W-what?” 

“Before Borderlands. In the real world, he’s a serial killer. I think we should eliminate him. He may be the Jack of Hearts.” He explains distraught. 

Before you can react to his acting, Banda strides into the cafeteria. You shift and give the entering man a smirk. 

“Got that thing you brought me last time?”

You nod and reach for the snack and throw it in his direction. He catches it with ease as it lands on his stomach. 

“Let’s go back to the guardroom,” Banda says to both of you, taking a swift glance at Chishiya and his partner who was sitting on one of the tables as well. 

You follow Banda closely, wanting so badly to take a glance at the man in the white jacket when you feel his burning gaze following you and Banda. 

Chishiya’s all alone for the next round. You gathered that maybe Ippei couldn’t handle the mental pressure and eliminated himself because you don’t think that Chishiya would’ve given him the wrong answer when he needed him so much. He’s probably in the cafeteria all alone right now. Matsushita’s heading there right now to get his biscuits, leaving you alone with Banda just right outside the hall of the cafeteria. 

You don’t know why but you feel like this is the final round. 

Oddly, Banda’s keeping a close eye on you. You wonder if it’s because of him seeing you and Matsushita talking. 

He put a hand in front of you when you wanted to follow Matsushita into the cafeteria. You hope that he doesn’t think you don’t trust him anymore. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” 

You break the silence with a mutter. And then he smirks, confirming your question. Matsushita’s the Jack of Hearts. He was right there beside you all along. 

You don’t say anything more, knowing that Matsushita’s about to come back any minute. You notice that Yaba gave Banda a glance when he passed. Either he finds Banda suspicious or they’ve been communicating too. 

By now, it’s you who’s not sure if you can still trust him.

“I won’t lie to you.” Banda is the one who speaks now, still not looking at you. “You don’t have to worry.” 

It was oddly comforting that you almost forgot that you were talking to a psychopath who kills women, of all people. However, you stayed quiet and nodded. 

Matsushita’s taking a bit long taking his biscuits and you know that Chishiya must’ve spoken to him in there somehow. He doesn’t have a partner, after all. Someone has to tell him about his suit. You want to do it for him but Banda’s keeping an eye on you.

When Matsushita appears again, Banda asks him what happened.

He fidgets on his biscuits packet and then answers. “The Jack of Hearts. I think that it’s that guy.” Then he points to Chishiya’s picture on the screen.

“I thought he was suspicious too,” Banda replies while looking up at the screen. 

“Hm. He did seem quiet through all of this.” You add. There was no point in denying Chishiya being suspicious. You nod at Matsushita as if complimenting him on his observance. But honestly, you want to punch his stupid fringe away from his eye. 

“Well, don’t worry.” He looks at you and Banda proudly. “He’ll die this round. I promise you that.” 

“Good,” you tell him and give him a smile but your blood was boiling deep inside. You wanted to punch him. He definitely lied to Chishiya about his suit back there. 

Fuck. How will you save him? How will you protect him? Think. I have to get out of Banda’s sight.

“Let’s tell each other’s symbol then,” you suggest. “I’ll go first.”

You turn around, lowering your hood and parting your hair from the back. Again, it’s Banda who first speaks up.

“Club.” 

When it was confirmed by Matsushita, he turned around. With Matsushita’s back turned to you and Banda, Banda gives you a glance and smirks. It was time. 

“Spade,” Banda says. 

You nod even if Matsushita couldn’t see it. “Spade,” you agree.

Then it was Banda’s turn. 

This time, Matsushita’s the one giving you a look.

“Spade,” Matsushita claims. 

You nod at Matsushita. “Spade.” 

Banda turns around and looks at the two of you as if assessing your faces. 

“Hm,” he hums. “I’m going to the restroom.” 

Finally, you’re free of this psychopath. 

“I’m going to get some snacks while you’re at it,” you reply. 

You watch as Banda walks away and turns into a corner. Just as you were about to walk off, Matsushita pulled you to the side.

“You’re a Heart. Banda lied to you.” He whispers in your ear. 

So his plan is to kill all of you here.

You nod and thank him. “Good. Thanks.” You whisper back and head to the cafeteria. 

However, just as you were about to leave the guardroom where Matsushita also is, Chishiya walks in. Fuck. How were you going to tell him his suit if he wasn’t there anymore?

You’re sure he still doesn’t know it. Matsushita lied to him and you’re sure Kotoko wouldn’t tell him anything. It’s up to you to give him some kind of sign. 

You take a swift glance at his nape. Diamond. How fitting for him. 

In the cafeteria, you got yourself some sweets and a chocolate drink again. There has to be some kind of sign you could give him. You look through the different kinds of snacks, wondering if you could sneak a tiny piece of paper into them. But that’d be too obvious. And you’d have to give him the snack. 

Then Matsushita’s biscuits catch your eye. 

Hm. You’re sure Chishiya would’ve noticed it too, right?

Hastily, you grab the pack of biscuits with the color of the wrap corresponding to his symbol and exchange it with your cake. Just as Matsushita and Kotoko have been doing.

Walking into the central guardroom, you munch on the cookies loudly and everyone turns their head to you, Chishiya included.

Please get it. 

Banda’s already there beside Matsushita and he was staring at you like a hawk. When you approach them, you wave the biscuits in front of Matsushita’s face.

“Yo, I tried your biscuits and I can see why you can’t get enough of them,” you say and bring another piece into your mouth. “Hey Banda, do you think we can get some of these supplies if we win?” 

“Maybe,” Banda actually replies to the stupid question. 

You hum, nodding while you chew your food. 

Your palms were cold inside the pockets of your jacket as you stand in front of the cell’s door. You’re a Club. Not a heart. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. 

Banda gives you one last glance with his dark eyes before opening his cell door and getting in. When he’s out of your view, Matsushita takes your line of sight. He gives you a nod as if you’re really partners and has deceived Banda. 

You noticed that he hasn’t even held his cell’s knob, waiting for you to get in. You sigh internally. You wanted to be the last one to get in and tell Chishiya his suit verbally. 

However, Chishiya has already opened his cell and gone in. You close your eyes and lick your lips, suddenly anxious. The lights inside this penitentiary are starting to hurt your eyes. The walls are dim as the lights are. No doubt prisoners go insane. 

Sighing, you open your cell and go in. 

“Please give your answer.”

Who do you trust? Banda or Matsushita? The Jack of Hearts or a serial killer?

Well, if you die then you die. 

“Club.”

A loud explosion is heard across the cells and your hands shot up to your neck. When it hits you that your neck is untouched and still very much attached to your body, you lean your back on the wall of the cell in relief. You’re alive. Banda hasn’t lied to you. Not even once. 

Then who died?

Anxiously, you wait inside your cell as you hear a cell door creak open. You’re not getting out there yet. Not without knowing who’s out there. 

A sinister laugh echoes through the halls and the cells. Matsushita. The Jack of Hearts. Has he thought he won? 

Then another door opens. You wait patiently, hoping it’s Chishiya. 

And then you hear that voice.

“I had a feeling you were the Jack of Hearts.”

Glee and relief rush through your veins and you smile with your head down. He’s alive, after all. That’s good.

“How did you—“ Matsushita is probably confused, thinking he successfully deceived everyone and won his own game. 

“You teamed up with Banda from the start and he’s a murderer so it just made sense,” Chishiya continues. 

“But Y/N teamed up with Banda too and she died,” he even tries to argue, thinking he really got you with his plan.

“Maybe. But Banda approached her first. You, however, approached him first and were moved by his little monologue. Still, I know you didn’t trust him. Not that fast.”

Then another cell opens. “Most people won’t even talk to a guy like me but you wanted to kill me. I could sense that in you right away.” It was Banda as you expected. “So I wanted to see if you were smart or just stupid or whether you were a true psychopath.”

“You mean…” You could sense the frightened tone in Matsushita’s voice, probably in disbelief. Still leaning against the wall and listening, you cross your arms and put a foot against the wall. You don’t want to come out yet. For some reason, it feels safer to be in isolation from those men.

“You thought you were controlling me this whole time but I was manipulating you into thinking that way. Ultimately, it was your huge superiority complex that gave you away.” 

Banda’s voice got clearer by the last sentence which means he’s right outside your door. 

“That kind of self-importance usually comes from being put into a special position—something that made you untouchable. In this case, it’s being chosen as the Jack,” Chishiya explains further.

And then your door opens, revealing you to the three men. You raise your head, finding that it was Banda who opened your cell. Banda gives you a proud look as you step out of your cell. Matsushita’s eyes widen at the sight of you alive and well. Behind him, Chishiya gives you a little wave. 

“Sorry. We already exchanged symbols before the three of us did.” You tell Matsushita. Betrayal doesn’t feel so great now, doesn’t it?

“You guys are wrong. Banda’s the Jack of Hearts!” Matsushita points at Banda, looking stressed and agitated.  

“Sorry, kid. It’s not Banda.” Yaba claims as he walks into the hall with his hands in his pockets. He must’ve slipped out of his cell as soon as the timer ended. 

Matsushita’s lips tremble at the sight of another player he failed to kill. “You and Kotoko were communicating. I told Kotoko her symbol and yet she still died. Which meant that Kotoko was being manipulated by someone other than me.” 

“Well then,” Matsushita nods, then points at Chishiya. “You should be accusing this guy.” 

“Whenever I went to the cafeteria, you and Kotoko would be there, getting snacks at the same time.” Chishiya is quick to counterpoint. A smile spreads across your face. So he did notice. “And every time, you’d get the exact same kind of snack. You and Kotoko were secretly communicating in the cafeteria.” 

“Both of you were just pretending that you were being controlled,” Chishiya concludes. 

“There were four different flavors of the snack,” you add, inserting your hands inside your jacket pockets and pulling out the empty packet of the biscuits you’ve eaten for Chishiya. “You would confirm your symbols by checking the packaging, using those snacks as a code with each other.”

You shifted your gaze from Matsushita to Chishiya and smiled sweetly, waving the empty packet. “I knew you’d caught on pretty quickly, Shuntaro.” 

Chishiya smiles back at you, raising a brow. “Yes. That’s how I got to know my symbol for this round. Thank you, Y/N.” 

“W-what? You two knew each other?” Matsushita is yet again shocked at another deception. Even Banda raises his brow, gazing from Chishiya to you.

“Kinda. It’s complicated.” You answer with a smirk and then shrug, tilting your head. 

Before the Jack of Hearts or Chishiya could react, Yaba speaks up again, reminding you to go back to the topic. “And then you told Kotoko to give me the wrong symbol. I really did trust her.” Yaba sighs. “Except at the end,” he finishes. He seemed really disappointed about it. Wow, he really planned to protect her till the end. It’s such a shame. But you understand Kotoko. You’d hate it too, the feeling of being controlled. 

Matsushita is short of breath because of his anger. “When did the four of you start working together?” 

“Well, the very first announcement said that this game is about how much we can trust one another. So we simply followed that principle.” As Yaba says that, Banda still has his eyes on you. 

“In order to gain someone’s trust, you can’t control, manipulate, or guide them in any way. You can’t brainwash them or hypnotize them, lie to them, or instill fear.” Yaba states what you basically said to Banda at the beginning of the game as he walks and stops beside you and Banda.

“It’s called equality,” he finishes his monologue.

“Wait a second, how can you be sure that it’s me? The Jack of Hearts could easily be any of you guys.” He looks at each and every one of you. However, nobody listens to his attempt to save himself. 

“Okay, maybe I did try to blame everything on you by setting you up, but look! That’s not enough. You don’t have proof that I’m the Jack of Hearts!”

“You sure about that?” Chishiya teases. 

“Huh?” Banda bites his teasing, confused.

“Just think about it. If they suspected that you were the Jack, then why did you survive the last round? Why didn’t Banda and Y/N lie? Tell you the wrong thing? The reason that you’re still alive is that you’re the Jack.” As he explains, Chishiya walks closer to him. Matsushita’s eyes were drowning in realization.

“These guys planned to keep you alive because they decided they wanna get information out of you,” he whispers but it’s still loud enough for all of you to hear. 

Matsushita turns to face the three of you in horror. Banda and Yaba begin to approach him. With Chishiya on his back and the two approaching him like predators targeting their prey, he was cornered. 

“Round 14. Start.”

Stupidly though, he decides to run. He turns and pushes Chishiya out of the way, running in the opposite direction. It made Chishiya stumble but he was able to balance himself and stay on his feet. Banda looks over at you and you sigh. 

You were obviously faster than the lanky arrogant guy, catching up with him before he could even get to half of the hall. You leap into the air and kick his back, sending his face to the floor. As he grunts in pain, you lift his head through his hair. 

You drag him across the floor as he panics and screams. Pushing one of the cell doors open, you throw him inside, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud. 

Yaba enters the cells first, taking off his coat and you stand on the side. Matsushita looks up at him, scared and weakened. Banda enters next, holding a shaver and a knife. You try not to react knowing what will happen next.

Banda gives you a smirk as you stand against the wall of the small confinement. “Thank you, darling.” He tilts his head while saying it and your face heats up, both a little frightened and surprised at the nickname.

“What are you doing?!” Matsushita cries.

Yaba began to tell him the reason why they were going to torture him. It was suddenly too crowded for four of you in one cell. Oh god. This is going to be gruesome. Do you have to stay here with them?

“Y/N,” Chishiya calls out your name from outside the cell. “Let’s go.” 

You look at him and his face doesn’t look like it’s going to accept any answer other than yes. You look over to Matsushita who was shaking in fear. His eyes met yours and they were pleading for you to help him. You huff and look away. 

“I’m sorry that we won’t be able to kill you.” Banda crouches down to become face-to-face with Matsushita. “But there are other ways to have fun.” 

As Bands holds the blade against his face, you take it as an opportunity to slip out of the cell. Matsushita’s screams fill the halls of the penitentiary. You and Chishiya stood side by side outside the cell, listening to whatever information Banda and Yaba were getting out of him.

The splurts of blood and the scream for help by Matsushita made you squirm as you sat on the floor against the wall with Chishiya standing by your side. They didn’t get much out of him. 

The torture lasted for an hour. 

When it was time to give his symbol, Matsushita immediately said the wrong answer. Then, the game was cleared. 

You and Chishiya walk together outside of the penitentiary, already having retrieved your weapons. It’s already morning. The two of you look up to the sky to see the Jack of Hearts’ blimp explode. This is the second game you’ve been in. How the hell did you even survive that without Chishiya telling you your suits? 

Banda and Yaba were walking out of the penitentiary side by side before you and Chishiya could even get far from the prison. 

Banda still had his eyes on you as he left Yaba and walked over in your direction. You stop, waiting for the serial killer, and see what he has to say. You grip the strap of the Katana’s sheath tighter to brace yourself for any attack, though you doubt that he would be able to attack you.

“My offer still stands.” 

You don’t know what it is that makes you so intriguing to Banda but you were grateful that it kept you alive throughout the game. However, no matter how odd it may sound, you don’t trust Banda as much as you did inside the game. Outside the game, he still looked like a serial killer who would kill you in the middle of the day. He also said that he only planned to keep you alive till the end of the game. So what about after that?

It did not appeal to you, the invitation to rule this world along with him. He wanted to be a citizen. You feel like Yaba does too. But you? You know you don’t want to. But what if Chishiya wants to? 

Before you could answer, Chishiya does it for you.

“No.” 

You whip your head to the guy behind you, with his chin up and hands inside his pockets. “She’s with me.” 

Banda doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are still on you. “She told me she likes her guys a little deranged.” 

“Exactly,” Chishiya answers again. “Key word: Little.” 

“And I’m assuming that’s you?” Banda finally looks at Chishiya, subtly sizing him up with his dark eyes and smirk. You don’t know what’s happening but you’re not a fan of it.

You step up in front of Chishiya, putting yourself in Banda’s line of sight. He shifts his eyes to you. You glare up at him through your lashes, brows furrowed and frowning like a lioness protecting her cub. It was a poisonous stare that made Banda’s lips curl up in amusement, the same strange gleam in his eyes sparkling like before.

There were no words you had to say as your eyes bore into his, fronting every confidence you have to make him get away from you and Chishiya without a fight. 

“Such a shame,” Banda says. “If you change your mind, or if anything happens and you’re alone, I’m sure we’ll find each other.”

You nod, doing anything for him to get out of your sight even with his frightening last statement. He leaves with Yaba. It seemed he made a companion for the rest of the games anyway. 

When you can no longer see their silhouette, you turn around to face Chishiya, he gives you an unamused look. You frown, already knowing what he’s thinking.

“You didn’t listen,” he scolded.

“You asked me to stay put!” You complain, throwing your arms around. “I can’t just do that.”

“So you go ahead and join a Hearts game? Really?” He starts to turn around and walk while speaking. You follow him hastily, grunting.

“I was supposed to go to a Spades game but the King of Spades showed up. You? What’s your excuse?” You cross your arms as you now walk side by side. 

Chishiya had his hands in his jacket’s pockets. You sigh when you hear his answer. “The King of Spades too, huh? He really doesn’t rest.” 

“Right. Do you think I can take him on?” You ask this time. If there weren’t guns involved. You think you could do it. Maybe. You don’t know. You’ve fought war veterans back in the underground. He seemed to be one of them. 

“No.” Chishiya didn’t even sugarcoat it.

“Then, we have to find Arisu and the others. It’d be better to try and take him down with numbers.” You think out loud.

“Just leave it to them, won’t you?” Chishiya suggests. This makes you frown once again. You really didn’t want to do that.

“No. I want to try and face him. The King of Spades.” You declared. 

Chishiya doesn’t answer anymore but you know he disapproves of it. You two were both doing it lately, just doing whatever the hell you wanted without caring about what the other might think. You’re starting to think that Borderlands is rubbing off on you.

And then you remember the game. 

“Hey, you asshole. You didn’t even try to partner up with me during the game. What if Banda lied to me?” You huff.

He sighs. “I did try to tell you every round. It was how many cookies I ate.”

Oh… Oh! That’s why he was eating four pieces at a time. 

“I slipped the meaning of each count in one of your favorite snacks and you took it. I thought you saw what I wrote. Idiot.” 

“What the…” you were in disbelief, a hand over your mouth. You stop in your tracks, pressing your lips together dramatically and lifting your head as if you were preventing yourself from crying. 

You point to Chishiya. “You’re telling me… I trusted Banda all throughout the game when I could have known my suit every round?”

Chishiya kept walking, not even bothering to look at your dramatic acting. However, you hear him mutter the word idiot one more time. 

You can’t believe this. He still looked out for you. How much of a dumbass are you to not see that fucking note he left in your snack?

“What was the offer Banda made you?” 

You know he’d grow curious about it. He was probably itching to ask about it the moment the murderer walked away. You’ll have to congratulate him for only asking about it now that you’ve found another place to stay at.

It was closer to the center of Tokyo. Now that you know that the King of Spades was roaming around the outskirts of the city, it’s safer for you to be here. Chishiya was right about his hunch as usual. If only you expected it to happen sooner.

“Banda… he wants to be a citizen.”

The thought of the psychopath still gives you goosebumps. He was scary. He’s the kind of man you’d rather avoid than beat up. You wonder what game he went to next. Did he go with Yaba? They seemed to get along after the game.

“And?” Chishiya presses.

“He thinks that I should be one too. He wanted me to join him in staying here. He said I was just like him.” It was funny. How could a psychopath compare himself to you? Somehow, it makes you think. Are you really just like him in some way?

“What a load of crap,” Chishiya muttered as he leaned on the wall of the room, arms crossed with his hood down. You’re currently staying at a condominium. Specifically, your home. 

You were curious if it was still here. Surprisingly, it was. So is this world really just a mirror of the real world, just abandoned? 

“What?” You barely heard what he said so you asked in case you heard it wrong. 

You’ve just finished cleaning it to be habitable to the best of your abilities. You’re just staying here for one night anyway. You just wanted to see it for a while.

“Why are we here?” Chishiya answers your question with another. 

You give him a glare before jumping on your bed. Your back hits the soft mattress, the exhaustion catching up with you. It just hit you that you were awake all night because of the game. “I missed my bed too much.”

“You can go back to your bed once you get back to the real world.” 

When I’m back in the real world, huh? To be honest, your time with Banda is on your mind. What if… There really is no end to this? You need to keep your mind open and have no expectations. You need to prepare yourself for anything.

“How optimistic of you, Shuntarou.”

“How the tables have turned.” Chishiya chuckles in a low voice. “Tell me, has Banda gotten into your head?” 

You scoff but let your silence answer his question. This made Chishiya sigh out loud. As you stare up at the ceiling, you feel the edge of the mattress sink, indicating Chishiya sat down with his back turned to you. 

“It’s just… What if this is really it? What if we can’t go back? What if this really ends when we die? Like Asaki and Matsushita?” You were thinking out loud and indulging Chishiya in it. You’re sure he’s listening. He always was. Even if sometimes you didn’t feel like he was. 

“He asked me why I want to live so much.” You were still staring up at the ceiling, your eyes focused on absolutely nothing. “And you asked me what was so valuable back in my life that I want to go back.”

You pause and think. 

Let’s say that somehow, you are able to go back and finally leave Borderlands? What happens when you’re back in the real world? It’ll be the same. High heels, full-course meals, boring meetings, attending parties, drinking wine. Then, once in a while, you’ll risk your life in underground fights. When you win, you’re back at the hospital, chasing around a guy that you’re not even sure if he wants you. 

And then there’s your father. 

Knowing that piece of shit, he most probably doesn’t care that you’re gone. He never wanted you anyway. You were just a product of an unwanted pregnancy with a whore who chased him around. Well, that’s what he told you multiple times. 

Your mother wasn’t a whore. She was just a girl in love. She loved him and he loved her too. However, he didn’t see a future with her because of her status. She was a nurse and he wanted someone better, someone more powerful. So, when he learned she was pregnant, he pushed her away. 

It broke her heart so much that it killed her months after you were born.

Your father regretted it so much that he loathed you. You were only a reminder of what he lost—of his mistakes. Still, your father never married and you don’t know why when he would insult you and your mother any time he could. You wish he just did so he could look at something else other than you. He took you in, gave you a roof over your head, and fed you but never raised you. You were raised by maids, tutors, and your grandparents who were just as cold but at least they cared more. 

There was never a person you could say that was your own just because they are. You never really felt alive. You had no family. Your friends never really felt like your friends. The money you spend away is never really something you earned. And the person that makes your heart race… was with you because he was after something else. 

Maybe Borderlands is better.

Here, Chishiya is something else. He was still the same, cruel and selfish. But here, you tasted his lips. You don’t know if that’s just him being affected by the apocalyptic situation you’re in but you were still happy it happened. 

You’re happy here because the people around you here, they’re reaching for you—actually you. They wanted you. They weren’t reaching for their past lover that birthed you, weren’t reaching for a few paid bottles of alcohol or food, weren’t reaching for social connections, weren’t reaching for wealth, weren’t reaching for a punching bag—weren’t reaching for anything at all but for some reason, their hands found you first. 

And so they settled. 

But here, you found Arisu and Usagi who relied on you and you relied on them. Here, you can feel that Chishiya cares about you. Here, he wore the jacket you gave him.

“Chishiya…” A tear fell out of your eye. You didn’t even realize that you were on the verge of crying. “I think I can accept it. If this is the end for me.” 

Ice-cold skin collides with your laid out hand on the bed and you almost jump in shock because of the temperature. 

Chishiya who still had his back turned to you, reached out for your hand… and held it. 

You can’t see his face, not when he wasn’t letting you. Chishiya never liked skinship. He was always eager to push you away whenever you tried to initiate it. You respected it though. You would always annoy him only with your words but you always remembered to keep your boundaries. 

But here he was, with his hand on top of yours. 

Honestly, it was more awkward than comforting. Your hand is frozen in place, unsure of what’s happening. The room was dim and you don’t have a clue what his face looked like right now. Never has Chishiya ever shown you empathy in words or in actions. This is the first time he has ever touched you like this.

“Shuntarou?” It was a whisper, calling out his attention and at the same time asking him why he was holding your hand. “What’s wrong?”

Like a feather, his touch is soft and fleeting. Within seconds after your question, his hand lifts off of you as if it was never really there. 

Before you know it, your bed dips on each side and you realize that Chishiya is now hovering over you with his hands on either side of your head and knees on either side of your legs. 

Your breath hitches and heat immediately rushes to your face at the intimate position. The air is suddenly heavier as the atmosphere changes. You see his face through the moonlight coming from the window. Up close, Chishiya’s face is clearer like you can memorize every detail and be able to draw it like a portrait artist with a photographic memory. 

His brow was slightly furrowed and his lips were parted slightly. He was staring you down right in the eye like he was trying to say something. They were blazing as if he was raging, his mind boggled into a million words but he couldn't speak of it.

You blink, confused as your gaze fleets to his lips, remembering your previous kisses. 

And then his gaze finally softens and a hand that was digging the mattress beside you moves to your face. It caresses your cheek and you involuntarily lean into his hold. Then, it moves up to your head, pushing your hair back away from your face so he could see it more clearly.

Your eyes sparkle in front of him. The untied lower half of his white hair is falling in your direction. You always loved the length of his hair. Sometimes, you would crave to run your hands through them. However, that was just a fantasy before.

Longing. Comfort. Lust. Which one of these three is he trying to say to you? 

His hand stops on your cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. Then, his hand moves to your lips, thumb pressing into the soft parted flesh, caressing it. It stops in the middle and presses further. 

You decide to take things further, the hell with whatever he was trying to do. You parted your lips and encircled his thumb with your mouth as you stared up at him intensely. Your wrapped lips suck him in and you see his brows rise and eyes darken. You let your tongue run through his finger, sucking like you would another part of him. And finally, with a loud pop, you let his thumb go. 

For a few seconds, all you could do is stare at each other with overwhelming lust in your eyes. Whatever the conversation was earlier, long forgotten. Right now, the need for each other is heightened, your core being awakened. His mouth finds yours immediately, smashing one another with a burning passion. His hips lower and you feel the hardening of his center on your abdomen. You lift your hips up as you gasp into the kiss, feeling the pressure of his clothed cock against your pulsing heat. Wanting to feel more of him, you grind yourself up to him once more. 

As you do that, Chishiya pulls away from your mouth, buries his head on your neck, and moans. Oh, you were going to be addicted to that sound. You want to hear more of it. 

“Do you want me, Shuntarou?” He was still littering kisses on your neck as you asked that question. This a bold question. What are you going to do if he says no? 

And yet he doesn’t answer. He continues licking and biting your neck. However, his hand rises to your cheek and then he does it. Two taps with three fingers. The same as he did that one morning after sharing your first kiss. You hadn’t minded it then, thinking it was just some cute gesture that he’d do instead of showing affection to you. Well, it is. But it’s more than that. Specifically, you don’t know what it means. But it seemed like a yes. You just had to be sure.

“Tell me.” You hold his hand that was holding your face.

He lifts his head that was buried in your neck, finally looking at you in the eyes. “Yes.”

Then he closes the distance between you once again. You surrendered yourself to him completely, with him pulling you in with his hands beside your face. You grasp the sides of his shirt, crumpling it as you try to pull it up, wanting to feel his bare skin. He smirks against your lips, pulling away and kneeling on the bed. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his lean body to you. 

You sit up, immediately drawn to his body. He lets you eye himself, picking up your hand and placing it on his chest. You look up at him through your lashes with enlarged pupils, pulse racing, and mouth agape. He looks down at you with equally as much emotion. You know this through the feeling of his heart beating in his chest. Chishiya wasn’t much one to show off his body. You admit that he wasn’t the most athletic but he did exercise as much as he needed. He wasn’t as fit but he was healthy.

You feel his body through your hands, running them up and down his chest and stomach, memorizing the feeling of his skin against your palms. You rarely see him topless so you wanted to remember this. He bends down to capture your lips again, caressing your cheek gently then down to your neck, to your shoulders, and then your waist. 

You gasp against his lips as he lifts and spins you around, sitting you on his lap. You’re on top of him this time, legs folded on his sides while your heat directly sits on his crotch. 

His lips are back on your neck, sucking and marking them. You rest your hands on his shoulders as he continues his attacks of kisses on your neck. His hands on your waist go lower and under the fabric, goosebumps forming from his touch. His hands roam around your skin under the shirt, inches away from the underside of your breasts. When he finally feels them, he freezes.

He pulls away from your neck and with a frown, he asks. “You aren’t wearing a bra?” He seemed a little pissed.

“Who the hell wears a bra to sleep?” You ask, dumbfounded and confused as to why this is relevant. 

“You should always be ready to run.” He complains like an idiot, brows furrowed. “Do you always sleep like this here?” He raises a brow. 

“Of course not, you idiot. Only with you.” 

After you said that, the corner of his lips tug into a satisfied tight-lipped smile. You smirk back, hands on the hem of your shirt. You pull the clothing off of you, exposing your braless breasts to him. The cold air hitting your skin hardens your nipples instantly, catching Chishiya’s eye in the process. 

Most of the time, you feel comfortable with your body. You like to think you looked sexy with your well-built body. Then again, Chishiya has never looked at you like this—not in this context. 

It made you feel a bit insecure, not being one of the girls with perfect, unbruised skin and thin delicate bodies. 

You cower in his gaze, not quite covering yourself but looking away to avoid seeing his reaction further. He notices this and uses two fingers on your chin to bring your face back in his direction. 

“Look at me,” he orders. With glossy eyes filled with want and lust, you stare at his eyes, the beauty mark under his right eye, and his delicate lips. “Only look at me.” He repeats himself. 

You nod, holding his gaze for a while before he leans to pepper kisses on your chest, not quite reaching where you want him most. His hands were on your ribs, thumbs tracing the underside of your breasts. Then his lips finally circle the curve of your breasts, sucking the skin and marking them as he did with your neck. 

“Shuntarou.” You were pleading, whining, and asking him to place his mouth or even just his hands where you really wanted him to. You jolt when his hand comes up to pinch your nipple, earning a moan from you. 

“Patience,” he reminds you.

He continued licking your skin, kissing your neck and chest alternately while holding one of your boobs in hand, massaging them. Your sensitive nipples were aching to be touched. You badly wanted to take his head in your hands and bury his face in your chest so he could smother them with his mouth.

When his tongue licks one nipple like a kitten as if testing the waters, you shudder. A soft whine slips from your mouth, not being able to control yourself and place a hand on the back of his hair as he fully envelopes his lips on your nipple, sucking it ferociously. 

Throwing your head back in pleasure, you grind your crotch on his hardening one. The friction of your clothed regions goes directly to your clit and now you were sure that you were soaked. Deciding you absolutely wanted more, you place both your hands on his shoulder and ground yourself on his clothed cock repeatedly while he flicks, licks, and sucks your hardened buds. He was eager to taste every inch of your chest and you were drowning in absolute bliss.

Hands shot down to your torso, stopping you from your back-and-forth motion. You frown as he pulls away and stares at you with a smirk.

Before you can protest, he flips you over again, earning a squeal from you. He captures your lips again in a desiring kiss and your arms instantly wrap around his neck, making him press an arm to the mattress by the side of your head. 

His other hand is still at your hips, thumb circling the skin just above the band of your shorts. It inches closer and closer until a finger is hooked under the soft material, teasing but not pulling it down quite yet. His hand goes under the material, feeling your underwear with his palm. You involuntarily clench as his palm goes directly to your clothed clit.

You feel him smirk in between the kiss as he feels your wetness, encouraging him to nibble on your lips. You were in dire need of him. You needed him to touch you, to mark you, to fuck you. 

“Please,” you plead, breaking the kiss and looking up at him with hazy lustful eyes. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, his hand going still under your shorts. You nod almost immediately and vocalize your consent. 

He doesn’t wait for a second after he hears it and slides your shorts and panties down your legs. You slightly shiver when the cold air hits your bare center, feeling the wetness dripping from it. His hands parted your legs so he could see more of you, making you feel a little more conscious than usual with a rose tint on your cheeks. You were completely bare in front of him while he was still clothed from the waist down. You should be a little shy but you weren’t, something about the dynamic feels more erotic.

Chishiya’s hands are moving slowly from your thighs but not quite getting where you want them. Instead, his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, massaging them with a purpose: to tease you and make you wetter.

When he is satisfied, he bends downwards. Oh. You didn’t expect this.

He licks one languid stripe from your hole to your clit, gathering the wetness on his tongue to which he swallows with a hum, his cat-like eyes fluttering open after. You swallow the lump in your throat as you stare at him in the eye, wide-eyed at the erotic scene that Chishiya played out for you. 

“Delicious,” he comments before diving in for more. Your hands immediately shoot down to make a home in his white hair as his head is buried between your legs, your back arching in pleasure as you gasp. 

He presses open-mouth kisses to your clit and you don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling lost in the immense pleasure he was giving you. You tug at the strands of his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind, his ministrations to your cunt the only thing he’s focusing on. 

Chishiya was like a man who suffered drought for years with the way he was eating your pussy. Half of his face is probably covered with your juices. You were only seeing the mop of hair between your legs but you can definitely feel his face mold against your heat. 

He hums as he eats you out, sending vibrations and shock waves to your spine. You love Chishiya and you admit you thought about him naked from time to time. You also fantasized about this happening once or twice but hell, you didn’t know that it’d be the first thing he’d do and be so good at it. 

He begins to catch on soon that it was clit stimulation that sends you closer and closer to that aimed high. The pressure begins to build in your abdomen, making you mewl and moan out his name to continue with whatever he was doing. It was a bit embarrassing how fast he could make you reach this point in only a few minutes. Was it because he was really good or was it because you held feelings for him that you hadn’t for anyone else? 

The sound filling the room is obscene, his tongue lapping your wetness echoing your bedroom walls. Your clit is throbbing underneath his tongue. 

The tension building up in your stomach rises with every flick of his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you feel it closer than ever to your most wanted high. 

“Chishiya,” you sob, fingers tugging his hair. “Baby, please…”

The nickname slipped out in the midst of your begging. What’s funny is you don’t even know what you’re begging for. For him to not stop or for him to make you come already? Maybe it was both.

“I know,” Chishiya murmurs against your cunt and gives your clit one extended suck before practically lifting your bottom half from the bed and digging his head further into your pussy.

He’s quicker than ever and you can’t not appreciate seeing Chishiya’s blatant display of eagerness and lust. His nose is pressed against your pelvis, lapping up your cunt as if it’s the last thing he’ll do. Your wetness is dripping down your thighs, pussy providing more for him like a water source. 

“Oh, ngghh… Shuntaro… Yes. Fuck!” You moaned incoherently while your hips involuntarily grind against his face. He doesn’t mind, his hot appendage flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and heating you up further.

You’re going insane, not knowing where to put your hands. They went from his hair to grasping the sheets, to feeling every inch of your naked skin, to groping your tits and pinching your nipples, to pulling your hair, and then back to his mop of hair between your legs. You were an absolute mess and it was all because of Chishiya’s mouth on your pussy.

You were a mess and your mind is blank, void of any thoughts except of the knowledge that you were about to cum. Your stomach is unwinding at a breakneck speed, your breathing heavy as Chishiya is working endlessly to get you there. He pushes and pushes until—

And then you came.

Your legs clasped around Chishiya’s head as you came, your moans in the form of screams. You can’t hear anything, too indulged in the sinking pleasure and gasping for air. He was still there with you, continuing to eat your pussy like you weren’t cumming messily under him.

You were trying to catch your breath when it subsided, finally releasing Chishiya from your legs by parting them. He gazes up at you to admire your face which was cherry red and wet with tears you didn’t even know were there.

You give him a lopsided smile, eyes content and chest warm. 

You pull him from below you and he lets himself be carried to your face, lips meeting in a soft kiss. It’s a sight to behold, half of his face covered in your juices. It is seldom that Chishiya is caught in a mess and right now, it was all because of you.

His fingers are on your core again, not even letting your sensitivity subside. You don’t complain though, excited with what more he could give you.

He spreads your wetness around your pussy, careful enough to go around your sensitive clit to not hurt you. Your tongue explores his mouth, tasting yourself in the process. 

His finger is prodding your hole, teasing the tip in and out or circling it. When he finally enters you with a finger, you gasp. He was already knuckle deep, not pulling it out but curling that finger until the pad of his finger felt that spongy spot inside you. 

You grasp the bicep of the arm that was beside your head. He leans down to suck your nipple again, making you arch your back again. He adds another finger, navigating your pussy as if wanting to learn every crevice of your cunt. 

He pistons his fingers in your pussy while overstimulating your sensitive nipples. The pleasure was immense and you abruptly sat up when his pace went faster, hitting that certain spot inside you that’s an instant gateway to your edge. 

Contrasting your loud moans and constant citing of Chishiya’s name, your partner is not as audible as you expected. Unlike your other partners before, he’s more on actions than words, making sure you were enjoying, checking every sign of your pleasure or discomfort in your face. 

He wraps an arm around your back, supporting your upper body slightly closer to his as his other hand is knuckles deep inside your cunt. 

You were mumbling incoherencies as his fingers repeatedly hit that spot while his mouth worked expertly on your tits. 

“Again,” he orders. “Cum for me again.”

He inserts another finger as he says that and the stretch burns so good. You often dreamed about his hands. God, his hands. Delicate and well-controlled. He was a doctor, after all. You don’t forget how in med school, you’d watch his hands as he demonstrates something and your mind would trail off somewhere. Now, those same fingers are where you want them to be. 

What else could you do but comply?

Your orgasm gushes out and takes you off guard. His fingers don't stop, each thrust of his fingers making your cunt squelch. The sound is lewd and you don’t think you’ve been pleasured like this your whole life. It was so unfair. How is Chishiya handsome, intelligent, and good at sex? 

You were panting when you came down from your high, staring at Chishiya with spent and glossy eyes.

“W-what the fuck,” you breathed out, unbelieving what just happened. He just made you cum two times and you haven’t even seen his dick. 

“Are you tired? We can stop here.” He asks you out of concern. You’re already vigorously shaking your head as an answer. 

“No. I want to feel you,” you say while palming his erection over his pants. “Want to taste you too.” 

“You don’t have to.” He was serious about it, eyes soft and genuine. Men would often want a reciprocation when it comes to oral sex, that is, if they even gave one in the first place. But Chishiya, this man right here, the man you adored since the first day, he was different.

“I want to,” you say before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips against his. You pushed his body to lay down on his back and you trail your kisses from his lips to his neck to his chest and down to his pants. His legs spread, lying comfortably on the mattress.

Unlike Chishiya who liked to take it slow, you were impatient, tugging down his pants and briefs in one motion before completely removing them and throwing them somewhere on the floor. His cock springs out and it was already hard and leaking at the tip. You look at it with anticipation, basically salivating as you were eager to taste him.

You wrap your hand around the base and licked the tip with your tongue, making him hiss. You were sure to taste him first before anything else then you moaned as he did when he first tasted you, looking up at him dirtily through your lashes.

His eyes were shut close and his jaw was clenched, basking in the second of pleasure. You wanted more from him—to make him a mess under you as he did you.

You spread his pre-cum with your thumb and then spat, using both as lube as you slide your hand up and down his shaft. His face contorts into pleasure and hums. 

Finally, you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling and sucking it as if it’s the last meal you’ll have. Chishiya was of decent length but the girth—oh god, the girth. It suddenly made sense why he used three fingers on you earlier. 

You push your head down on him, taking him little by little. If he was good at it, then you’ll show him how great you can be at it too. You bobbed your head back and forth, taking more and more of him at every thrust. Your hands massage his balls as you suck his cock. 

Chishiya’s head is thrown back when you glance up, his beautiful neck on display for you. This only motivates you more, fastening your pace, not minding as lewd sounds come out of you as you choke and gag on his cock.

Your eyes stay on him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours again. And it does. He glances down at you, teeth clenched together in an attempt to strain a groan from him. “Fuck,” he hissed.

You were probably a messy sight to behold. Tears on your blushing face, saliva leaking out of the corner of your mouth, and all high on pleasure and lust. Despite this, he looks at you in pure adoration in contrast to the sinful situation. 

Freeing his cock from your mouth with a little ‘pop’, you breathe and give him a smile before sticking out a flattened tongue and running your tongue from the base to the tip. You take him in your mouth again, humming to create vibrations as you swirl your tongue and bob your head ferociously. 

And then you hear it. He moans and mumbles your name. 

You didn’t know that he wanted you to stop, taking the sinful sounds coming out from him as motivation to make him come. It was turning you on so much, having such a man writhing with the way you suck his cock. He practically pulls your head away from his cock for you to realize. “Need to be inside you,” he explains in a rush. Once again, he flips the two of you over. There was no warning, no second to prepare.

In one swift motion, his cock enters you, taking his cock inch for inch. You were so wet that he entered with ease, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support. He doesn’t move for the first few seconds, taking in your warmth and tightness. His eyes are closed and his brows are furrowed when his entire length is inside you.

“Shuntarou,” you mewl. Just as you thought, he was on the thicker side, filling your cunt so well. 

“Feel so good,” he mumbles against your neck.

The warmth goes straight to your chest, an unfamiliar feeling during sex. His cock is nestled inside your warmth but you wanted him to move so you grind yourself against him. The sudden friction makes him groan, digging his arms into the mattress as he raises himself just above your face. And then he starts to move.

He pulls out until just the tip of his cock is inside then he slams it back inside again, your sensitivity from previous orgasms doubling the pleasure and making you moan out curses. He starts building the pace, cock thrusting in and out of your heat. It stretches your cunt, every pound hitting your g-spot which he found with ease. Your body jostles with every snap of his hips.

You wanted to keep your eyes open and see every slight change on his face. The way his brows furrow, the way creases form on his forehead, the way his lips part slightly, and the way he pants. But it was all too good.

“Fuck! Oh shit. Please don’t stop!” You plead with shut eyes, tears leaking out of the sides of them as you clench your pussy just as he grinds his cock right at the spongy area of your cunt.

“All mine,” he grunts. “You’re all mine.” It was so lewd and vulgar. You were so wet and loud that you were sure that even the mattress is now soaked with your wetness, your sheets forever ruined. 

“Yes,” you croak. “Only yours.” Your words give him some kind of encouragement, his pace going faster than ever. You’ve never seen Chishiya this energetic. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, his cock hitting all your nerves as you wail in ecstasy. 

You both were chasing your high like madmen, you thrusting up your hips to meet his rhythm. Your cunt was clenching around his length and he let out a guttural growl every time you did it. 

“On your knees,” he commands as he pulls out of you.

You get on your knees, hands digging into the mattress to support yourself. He hisses behind you, cock entering you once again in one swift motion. Your back instantly arches and his hands fly down to your shoulder and waist. The hand on your shoulder slides to your neck and then to your throat, wrapping around it lightly. You turn your head to him, catching his smirk as he looks at you while squeezing your hips. He starts moving his hips, cock hitting deeper than ever. He has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, his hand gripping the sides of your neck and adding to the haziness of your brain. 

You turn your head again, watching as he captivatingly watches his cock move in and out of you. It was good. So good. But it was painstakingly slow.

“Faster,” you beg, voice a little coarse. He complies, grip on your hip and throat tightening to anchor himself as he rams his hips into you faster and deeper, fucking you silly. 

“Fuck!” You scream out, starting to get high on the bliss the sex was giving you. Your back curves to him as he finds his rhythm and thrusts in fast motion. 

The hand on your hips slides down to your pussy, his finger stroking your clit in swift circles. You scream, his dick hitting that sweet spot inside your and his fingers overstimulating your bundle of nerves.

“Chishiya, I’m—“ Your voice hitches, putting all your strength on keeping you steady even if your whole body is turning into jelly. You were completely engulfed in his touches.

“Come,” he commands for the second time. For the third time that day, the coil inside you snaps, your orgasm coming down at you in full force. Loud and messy. Just as you are. 

The fuzzy feeling rushes through your body, making your cunt tighten at your orgasm. Chishiya pounds harder to chase his own. Both of his hands snap back to your hips to avoid hurting you with overstimulation. His hips were stuttering, a sign that he was close too as your pussy cages him. 

“Where?” He asked out loud while you were still coming down from your high. Your mind was hazy but it was clear enough to know what you wanted. “Inside,” you blubber. “I have an IUD.” 

Just like that, he spills inside of you. Underneath him, you were a sobbing mess, sensitive to having three consecutive orgasms. 

You take a glance at the man, his brows were knitted in pleasure, a few strands of his white hair sticking to his face. He was incredibly beautiful. Chishiya was a ravishing man and he just unveiled you. You wouldn’t want more for a while.

“Fuck,” he pants. His hands fall down from your hips and to his sides. He keeps his cock inside you for a few seconds after he comes down from his high before pulling out. Immediately, your body collapses on the mattress, your mixed juices spilling out of your pussy as your muscles all come loose. 

With your head turned to the side and buried in the pillows, you can’t see Chishiya behind you. However, you do feel his hands come down to your ass as he spreads them apart, most probably watching his cum inside you. He collects them with his fingers, the tips of them brushing your sensitive clit in the process and making you shudder. Then his fingers enter your cunt again, pushing your mixed cum into you again. It was so erotic and vulgar, his fingers just ruining your oversensitive cunt. You squirm, the pleasure all too much. 

“Ah…” you moan weakly. Chishiya chuckles and pulls his fingers out of you, the dip of his knees on the bed disappearing and you hear his steps on the floor. You were too tired to look at him but you do hear the water running in the bathroom for a few seconds before his steps return to the bed.

You jolt at the cold and damp towel meeting the skin of your thighs. He wipes you gently, hands working in favor of your sensitivity. He was so gentle that it almost felt relaxing. You let him do what he was doing and close your already droopy eyes.

When he’s done, you feel the bed dip beside you. Your hands immediately find his chest even with your eyes already closed, pulling yourself closer to him as you let yourself finally fall asleep.

When you woke up, Chishiya was gone. It made you nervous, finding the side of his bed cold and another canned food on the top of your bedside table. You reach for it, sighing and reading the label before putting it back down again.

You sat up, your blanket falling down from your body and exposing your naked breasts. It suddenly felt too cold and you notice the clean folded clothes sitting by your blanket-clad feet. 

You get out of bed and decide to shower first. After cleaning yourself, you went back to your bedroom and started dressing up. Starting with the fresh underwear, you slip the panties on first and then the sports bra after. As the band below the sports bra snaps to your skin, you hear Chishiya speak.

“You’re awake,” he walks into the room and sits casually on the chair in front of your desk as if you weren’t half naked—as if you haven’t just had sex. 

“Where were you?” You snapped, not looking at him and taking the yoga pants in your hands. You start slipping your legs into it as you wait for an answer. 

“The King of Diamonds. Registration will start later.” You froze.

The two of you just survived a game together, and now he still wants to join another? Well, he is Chishiya after all. What were you thinking? Just because you two had sex, he’ll magically change overnight? You sigh, pulling the pants to your waist. “Okay,” you reply. 

“Okay?” His voice sounded intrigued. He didn’t expect you to just agree like that.

“Okay,” you repeat, still not looking at him.

You sigh, grabbing the black dry-fit shirt. You pull it over your head as you speak. “I can’t really stop you, can I?” Besides, he hasn’t played a Diamonds game and you know he wanted to. 

You pull the hem of the shirt, all done and dressed up. You know he didn’t want you coming to that game. And to be frank, you were all done with it. You had plenty of days on your visa and there were only a few games left. You have to put your trust in Chishiya. And if you will, a Diamonds game is where you trust him the most. He can do it, right?

“I’ll wait for you here,” you continue. “But only if you promise you’ll come back.” 

You finally meet his eyes, staring at you intently. He was wearing his favorite white jacket, an oversized shirt, and pants. He was all ready. It made you sick how he did it all while you were sleeping soundly. He was to leave you. Did he fuck you because of this? 

He stands up from his seat, walks over to you, and shortens the distance between you. He was inches away from you, pushing your hair to the back of your ear. 

“I promise,” he answers.

You nod with a hard stare. “I won’t join any more games if I don’t have to and if you don’t come back, I’ll leave and start looking for the others. Deal?” You ask him, brows raising.

He was quiet for a few seconds as if he was contemplating an answer or if there was something else behind your words. But he answers anyway. “Deal.”

When you were content, you sat back down on the bed. “You haven’t eaten,” Chishiya observes as he stares at the untouched food beside you. “Not in the mood,” you reply blankly. 

He hums, unconvinced by your answer. He sits down beside you on the bed. “Is this because of last night?” He asks you. So now he brings up what happened?

“No,” you lied through your teeth, aware that you were convincing no one but yourself. His kisses and now sex. Was this just how Chishiya did it? Just hook up and then go on as if nothing happened? Maybe that worked for any random person he did it with but he couldn’t do that to you. Not you. 

He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets. He most likely knows that you were lying. “I didn’t have any motive if that’s what you’re thinking.” He takes a glance at you while he says that then looks in the other direction again. 

“It’s hard to be sure with you,” you reply with a straight face but it comes out sadder than you intended.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, thinking. “I know,” he says. “I know.” His voice equals your saddened tone. 

“Can’t we just be sure? I need you to be sure about me.” Chasing him around, you didn’t get tired of that. You always expected to get nothing in return. You thought that if you do someday get a reaction from him, you’d be content but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Him reciprocating your feelings without actually confirming anything, it hurts more than anything. 

He doesn’t answer and tears well up in your eyes. You hold out your hand, the back of it touching your thighs. “This is hard for me too, you know?” You are your mother’s daughter, you realized. Loving a man that doesn’t even want you. You liked to think that Chishiya isn’t like your father but who knows? It’s hard for you to love too. But you’re trying. It just so happened that your heart chose him. It’s unfortunate but you’re hopeful. 

“I know,” he answers the same thing. 

“You know an awful lot of things,” you snort. 

“I do,” he replies quickly.

You turn your head away from him even if you weren’t previously looking at him to express your aggravation. You don’t say anything else, sitting with him in silence and letting your anger marinate into something else.

“I do know a lot of things,” he continues a little later than a conversation should. “I know everything about you. More than anyone else I know. Your every habit. Your every favorite thing. Your thoughts. Your likes. Your dislikes. I know all of them. It’s not because I’m simply smart. I wouldn’t remember if it’s anyone else.”

A hand on your chin gently moves your face towards him, making you come face to face with him, faces only inches away from each other. His eyes were sparkling in the most expressive way they could be, boring into yours with a purpose.

“I know,” he says again. “I know because it’s you.”

A tear falls from your eye. Then from the other. Then another. Then another until they fall like waterfalls. He captures your lips into a kiss while holding your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“Stop crying,” he whispers when he pulls away. “You look ugly when you cry.” But like a child, you cry harder, hands covering your face. Chishiya chuckles, pulling your hands away from your face and you let him. 

You wrap your arms around him. Words were still unsaid between the two of you, those three words that hang around your heart for years. You wanted to say them in case you don’t see each other again but you were scared. Why? You don’t even know.

“I—“ you stutter. “I have something to say to you when you come back.” He hums again and you feel the vibration of his throat in your touching bodies. 

“So come back, okay?” You sniff.  Chishiya exhales, bringing a hand on your back to tap it two times. “I will,” he promises again. “But don’t go out. Just wait for me. I’ll come back.” 

What else were to do but trust him? 

Chishiya didn’t come back. 

The King of Diamonds blimp had fallen but there was no sight of the white-haired man. Agitated and feeling your body waste away inside the waste of a room he left you in, you worry for your acquaintance. Has he really lost the game? 

No, impossible. It can’t be, right? This is Chishiya we’re talking about. Will he really lose a game—a diamond game out of all suits? This is unfair. You’ve kept your promise. You didn’t join any games and thankfully, there wasn’t any sign of the King of Spades. So why isn’t he back yet?

Your mind goes back and forth. Will you look for him and go outside or will you stay here, patiently waiting for him to come back? If you do go out, you’re breaking his promise and your trust in him but if you don’t go out, you think you’ll go insane out of worry. And what if the worst thing has already happened? Will you just waste away here in this room?

You decided that you won’t wait for him anymore. 

Going outside, you mindlessly walk the streets of London without any destination, occasionally stopping by some places where you can loot some supplies and avoiding any people that come into view if you don’t know them. 

As you are nearing Shibuya, an alarming sound pierces your ears.

Gunshot? But that’s just one. If it were the King of Spades, it should be much louder and followed by more running and bullets. You were near the main roads so maybe more people are there?

What if it’s Chishiya? or Arisu? Usagi? Anyone at this point. Just so you weren’t alone. You groan. You won’t allow yourself to be seen. If it’s no one you know, you can just walk away and run in another direction. 

After you’ve decided, you begin to stealthily walk in the direction of the fire. As you hide from car to car, more gunshots come followed by a little bit of shouting. There were arguments, maybe. Really? In the middle of having only two games left? Are they really going to kill themselves when we’re so near our goal? Sighing, you pick up your handgun and prepare to use it.  

Then it was quiet again as you neared Shibuya crossing. You were maybe two or three blocks away. Who could they be? You hope it’s not anyone you know. Wait, is that? 

That shaggy hair and lanky tall build. That’s Arisu holding a shotgun. And who’s that on top of a car wrapped up like an onigiri—oh. That’s fucking Niragi. He’s aiming at someone. If Arisu is here then that means? Your eyes trail to where the gun is pointed and you spot the short-haired girl in a red athletic tank top. Your eyes watered in shock and happiness. You finally found them. 

However, that bastard Niragi is just a pain in the ass until the end, isn’t he? That fucking asshole. Speeding up your pace, you raise your gun without being heard. Your eyes were focused on Niragi and how his finger is on the trigger. He’s gonna shoot. You’re gonna have to do it fir—.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was his shot that rang first. Then yours. Then Arisu’s that sent him flying off the car. Aware of another shot that wasn’t coming from him but his back, Arisu turns around hastily with his gun pointed at you. You immediately raise your hands, showing your defenselessness in order for him to stand down his guard.

His eyes immediately softened when they saw you, putting down his gun and exclaiming your name in relief. “Y/N!”

You run towards him and pat his shoulder before screaming Usagi’s name and running in her direction.But when your eyes shift to where she was, Usagi was still on the floor, and in front of her was… what? Where did he come from? Why are there blood stains on his white jacket? In two different areas, too? What? No. What’s going on? 

“Chishiya!” Usagi’s scream was piercing as his body falls on the road. Arisu goes over to them and Usagi presses a hand on his wound in order to control the bleeding. “Why?!”

You, however, stood frozen in place, just a few steps away from the three. Usagi began asking him why he saved her. It was indeed odd. Even you know that it’s out of character for him. You’d never thought you’d see the day that Chishiya would take a bullet for someone. He always argued that if a person could take a bullet for someone, they would have enough time to move away from the shot. 

Whatever they were talking about, you tune out. You couldn’t hear anything. You feel like your brain shut down and all you could feel inside your body is raging fire. Your heart has stopped taking in anything, overflowing with exuding unexplainable emotion. 

You had shut down.

“I wanted to do something that was a bit out of character.” Chishiya chuckles as he sputters out the words behind the pain. He sighs. “I know it’s thanks to Y/N and the people I met here. Like Kuzuryu. Arisu, too.”

Usagi and Arisu were worried and Arisu even took a glance at you, wanting to check on you as you stared down at Chishiya with a lifeless expression. There were no tears in your eyes, only an unmatchable coldness burning them. No emotions. Your shoulders were relaxed and the lids of your eyes looked as if they were too heavy to keep open.

However, he focuses back on the man dying in front of him. “Hey. What were you gonna say before?!” He asks, pertaining to a few minutes before Niragi went and interrupted them.

Chishiya takes his time to take a breather before answering. “Honest people always seemed pretty stupid to me. I always loved messing with people who try too hard at life. I hated selflessness.” He pauses to breathe again, his voice raspier as his eyes stare up at the sky. “It’s probably because I was jealous. They all had something I was missing.”

He stares at Arisu for a second before looking straight ahead again. “It was like they could always see what a pathetic and small-minded person I really was.” Then his head turns to you who wasn’t even looking at him. You were gone inside yourself. “I was always afraid.” That I wouldn’t be enough for her too, is what he thought as he saw you. 

“I understand you,” Arisu responds, genuinely with a nod. He doesn’t say it just because the man lying down on the ground is in a critical condition. He does understand what he’s saying and what he means. “I thought you would,” Chishiya replies with a bittersweet tone. 

Usagi and Arisu look down at Chishiya with pity and understanding. They were betrayed by this man. He used and manipulated them in his favor. He had hurt Y/N a lot. But this man… is just a flawed human being. While that doesn’t excuse his actions, they do understand him a little bit better. They wished that somehow and one day, he can change and be a better man. 

Usagi looks up at the woman standing quietly in front of them, her eyes widening at her lifeless state. “Y/N?” Arisu follows Usagi’s eyes and hurries to his feet, about to check on their friend who looked terribly off. They’d never seen her like this before. Hell, Chishiya has never seen her like this before.

“I guess hunting rifles aren’t as deadly as you thought.” Grunting at hearing the voice of his enemy, Arisu rushes to where he fell, ready to shoot him once again if he makes a wrong move. However, a hand on his chest stops him and he looks at the person with wide eyes. 

Your eyes were still lifeless and blank. You didn’t even look at him, staring at Niragi’s body who was sprawled on the cement road next to the car. He was still laughing, his breathing uneven with all his injuries and shots. 

“Whatever you do, don’t make me out to be the villain.” The man was dying, it was clear to anyone. But you didn’t seem convinced. “If there were seven billion of me, you guys would all be villains too. You’re pretty lucky you know. You guys are the majority.” 

Arisu lowered his gun, knowing that the man had forfeited. His bloodied burnt face and the bullets in his body are enough for him to not be able to move. However, as Arisu looked at you, you didn’t look like you cared. “Y/N!” He couldn’t do anything but scream your name as you rush to Niragi, kicking his body, and sending him rolling on the ground. 

Niragi coughs out blood. Plenty of it. He doesn’t even try to move or run. He couldn’t possibly do it. He was too weak and injured. You pick up the man by his hair, lifting his body off the ground. With blaring eyes, you throw a powerful punch across his face. His body falls to the ground again. 

“What’s your pr—,” he tries to ask but you weren’t hearing anything. You pick him up by his hair again. But this time, you punch the other side of his jaw. He falls to the ground again and sputters out blood, spitting crimson red and a tooth.

Arisu and Usagi were too stunned to move or speak. You were merciless as you beat up Niragi, punching him multiple times and kicking his wounds repeatedly as Niragi cries out in pain. You weren’t hearing any of his protests. You were completely out of it. Arisu could see that something was wrong. He has never seen you like this before.

From the ground, Chishiya looks up at Usagi who was still pressing down his gun wound. “She’ll kill him,” he tells her, implying that the pair should stop you.

It’s not that he didn’t want Niragi to die. He wasn’t the judge of that, he learned. He also didn’t say that Niragi doesn’t deserve to be beaten by you. He most understandably deserved it. However, he knows that if you killed him, it'll leave a mark on you. You were a fighter but never a killer. 

Usagi and Arisu pull you away from a curled up on the floor Niragi despite your protests and attempts to pull yourself free from their holding. You began screaming, grunting, and raging like a bull. 

“Y/N! Get a hold of yourself! Please!” 

Usagi pleads as she holds your arm tightly. Arisu holds your other one as they both struggle to pull you back. 

“YN, stop!” It was Arisu who screams, having a much more difficult time than Usagi.

As the pair is still trying to hold you back, the familiar sound of rumbling puts them to a halt, frozen over what they know follows. This puts an urgency on Usagi, pushing Arisu from you and moving in front of you. She stops you by holding both of your shoulders in place, planting all her weight on the ground. 

“Y/N!” 

“Y/N!” 

Usagi was in front of you, in distress as she squeezes your shoulders. She was holding on to you with maximum effort, her feet gripping the ground tightly and the force on your shoulders was vehement. Your face relaxes, releasing the tension that was once on it. 

“U-Usagi?”

What was happening? Why is Usagi on the verge of tears? Why can’t you remember anything? Your knuckles are clenched and wet? You look down, seeing the blood and bruises forming on it. What’s the last thing you remember? 

You feel Usagi’s hold loosen as you think. 

You try to retrace your steps. You heard gunshots. You followed them. It was at the Shibuya crossing. You saw Arisu. Then Niragi. Then Usagi. Niragi was about to shoot Usagi. But Chishiya was shot instead. 

Chishiya was shot. Fatally. 

Your face morphs into a horrified one as you remember. You look up, finally processing what has happened and what was happening. The rumbling sound followed by a whistle indicated a blimp was near. Chishiya was shot and the King of Spades was about to come. 

Snapping out of it, you turn around and run to where you know Chishiya is. Dropping to your knees beside him, tears began to sting your eyes as you try to press your bruised hand on his wounds.

He was fatal. There were two shots, one below the rib and another on the chest. You know you can’t carry him away to a safe shelter. He was too exhausted and he was losing too much blood. And you have to run now, quickly. 

With your touch, Chishiya’s eyes open again but with struggle. He looks up at your face that had worry and devastation written all over it. 

“H-hey,” he greets you with a corner of his lips curled up. He could barely keep his eyes open.

You broke into a sob, tears flowing down your cheek as you stared at the bloody mess in front of you. “Shuntarou. T-tell me what to do. Please. We can stop the blood. I can carry you to the nearest drugsto—“

He shakes his head, not even listening to your cries in an attempt to help him. “I-No. The jacket. I’m sorry.” 

Your brows furrowed as you scrunch your forehead in confusion. “What?” 

A hand lifts to the blood on his jacket. Was he trying to say sorry about ruining his goddamn jacket?

“Are you fucking serious? That doesn’t matter right now!” You scold him, fist slamming the concrete below you.

The man dying in front of you had the audacity to smirk in his condition. “T-the plant too.” 

Your mouth drops open at his words, momentarily halting your sobs as tears continue to fall from your eyes. The plant? Could it be? 

That’s when you realize that this man bleeding in front of you, unmoving and on the verge of death, is the same man who you met when you were a kid. This is the same man who would ignore you endlessly. This is the same man who pushed you away. 

But this man… has always cared about you. 

You wondered why he hadn’t gotten rid of it all this time. Back at the beach, you saw him wearing it. He had taken it off only one time—when you chose Usagi and Arisu over him. Then he mysteriously has it again when the games started. Had he always cared this much over that damn Nike jacket? Because of you?

You were about to speak again but a loud scream from afar interrupts you, indicating that the King of Spades is near. 

“We have to go!” Arisu screams and runs to you and Chishiya. “We’ll hide them under the cars,” he says and you nod, wiping away your tears. 

Arisu, Usagi, and you dragged Niragi and Chishiya behind the cars. However, you know that wouldn’t do much. But you have to run or be shot to death by the King of Spades right here with them. 

“Come on!” Arisu beckons as he drops Niragi beside the car. You were still beside Chishiya, kneeling beside him and looking at him breathing and alive despite his exhausted and lifeless eyes. You place your hand on top of his and hold it, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

You look at Arisu and then back at Chishiya, thinking about what could be the stupidest decision in your life. From the look on your face, Arisu begins to understand what you were thinking. 

“Y/N, we need you.” Arisu pleads with you. You both know that if it ever comes down to taking down the King of Spades, three is better than one. Especially with your combat skills. 

However, you stay on your ground, eyes focused on Chishiya who was now looking at you with confused eyes. “I want to be next to him. If I die, it’ll be next to him.” 

Arisu and Usagi look at each other as if they’re communicating with their eyes. 

Chishiya turns his head, looking away from your focused stare. “Just go,” he tells you, his hand that was in your hold pushes yours away. 

You shake your head in protest. “No.”

The shouts got a lot clearer and the gunshots were louder. The King of Spades is nearing and you were giving Arisu and Usagi no chance to convince you to come with them. But you’re choosing Chishiya this time. As you always had. 

Arisu places a hand on your shoulder and you finally look up at him with tears in your eyes. You give him one last nod and he gives you a stare and nods back. It wasn’t a look of pity but a look of worry and respect. This might be the last time you’ll see him and Usagi. Not all of you might actually survive this time. 

“Be safe, Y/N.” Usagi crouches beside you to hug you.

You nod, patting her back. “Go. Now.” Usagi gives you one last look of determination and stands up in sharpness when you hear the screams and guns fired again. 

And so you watch as Usagi and Arisu scramble away from you. 

You finally plop yourself beside Chishiya, head down low in silence at the realization of what you’ve done. You don’t breathe or make a sound, only staying by his side as the shooting and running take place behind you. 

Minutes passed by and there were still people screaming and being shot but a further distance. You were frozen there, not doing anything but sitting while everyone you meet here is dying. 

Chishiya is breathing slowly but he’s alive. You can feel him looking at you in your peripheral vision but you don’t look back. 

“Is this really what you want?” His voice was weak and soft, unlike the Chishiya you used to know. You don’t answer him, only staring ahead at the ruined buildings of Shibuya. 

You remember walking here like it’s a chore. You remember seeing these streets alive with diverse people. Workers, students, tourists, and residents. It was a busy street. Now, what used to be a place that was never empty and filled with people, is littered with dead bodies. 

“Y/N,” Chishiya continues in a warning tone, trying to catch your attention as your mind is drifting away. 

You shake your head, headstrong on your decision. “No, I’m not leaving you.” 

He sighs. “You’re so stubborn.”

You raise a brow, glaring at him. “And you’re fucking stupid. Look at where you’re shot.” 

Why is it that the moment he turns things around he has to be in the line of fire?

He chuckles breathily, staring down at his wounds with raised brows. You frown when he literally does what he’s told. How can he be so sarcastic when he’s dying?

“What does my doctor think?” Chishiya raises a brow at you. You huff, looking away in annoyance. 

“That you should shut up,” you snap. “Can you sit up? Let’s at least try to control the bleeding.” 

“It’s no use.” You both know he’s right. Still, you’re not one to give up. You try to pull his arm but he winces, making you let go as you’ve accidentally touched a hot stove. You sigh, no choice but to sit in silence again.

It’s kind of odd how the King of Spades didn’t reach you behind the cars. The gunshots seem to have gone further away. Perhaps most players have decided to end the King of Spades now with Shibuya as his first and final arena. You thought about Banda and Yaba, were they in Shibuya too?

A cough pushes you out of your thoughts. You turn your head to your right and once again, your blood boils when your eyes meet Niragi’s who was barely leaning in front of a car. Sometimes, you really hate Arisu’s moral compass. He should’ve left Niragi for dead in the middle of the street for him to be shot dead and sure.

“What?” You spat. 

He doesn’t even have the energy to answer. His face was all bloodied, having been beaten up. His burns haven’t been healing properly and he was shot twice by you and Arisu. He was in a more critical stage than Chishiya. You hope that he'll die soon. 

Well, maybe not. 

“Don’t die,” you tell the deranged man. 

The corner of his blooded mouth curls up in the tiniest bit and you continue with a soulless voice. “Don’t die and let’s go back to the real world. When we’re back, just wait. I’ll find you and make you suffer so that you’ll wish you never lived and died here. I can atone for my sins in hell but you… I won’t let you. I want to be the one to punish you.” 

You know a million thoughts are running through his head. He may be wanting to curse you or taunt you, or in the slightest of chance, regret all of what he’s done here. It doesn’t matter anyway. He was too injured to move his mouth.

You turn your back to him and face Chishiya again. He was staring at you with amused eyes, probably shocked at your cruel words for his enemy. 

“What? I promised.” You defend yourself. “To protect you.”

“Why?” 

“You know why,” you argue, brows furrowing.

If Chishiya isn’t answering because of his injury or simply because he didn’t have anything to say, you weren’t sure. You do know, however, that there is one thing weighing on your mind. There was no time to ask but now.

You open your mouth to speak and close it again, hesitating a little before finally speaking. 

“Why didn’t you come back?” Your voice cracked. “I waited for you and watched the blimp crash. You didn’t come back.” 

He stays silent for a moment, not even staring at you. His face looks troubled. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of crying. You’ve never seen him look like this. What exactly happened in his game?

“I—“ He finally answers, stuttering as if he’s unsure. “I don’t know.” 

“You told me you will,” you bark. Were you angry? Maybe a little. Nobody wanted what happened to him to happen. It wasn’t his fault. Yet, you couldn’t not feel angry. If he just came back to you, would this have happened? 

Sometimes, you wish you could get inside Chishiya’s mind just once. Just so you could be sure of what he thinks of you—of where you stand in his life. 

“I know.” He chuckled bitterly. “And you told me you wanted to face the King of Spades.” 

“Then I guess our words never really meant anything to each other.” 

“So? Are you really going to stay here until they clear all the games?” 

“Yes.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“How is this ridiculous, Chishiya? You know how much I—“

“I know,” he pauses. “I know.” 

“Why won’t you let me tell you that I lo—“

“Not here. Not now.”

“What if we never get the chance again? Say I do go out there and join them? What if I die?”

“Walk it off. Win the game and crawl. Then say it.” He presses on every word harshly. You frown, upset that he was pushing you away this way. 

What now? He really wants you to leave him, huh?

“Listen, Y/N. I’m okay. I won’t be able to join the last game but I can stay here and be alive until it’s been cleared. You can go. I’ll wait for you here.”

You close your eyes, sighing as you rest your elbows on your folded knees. You place your head on your hands, frustrated. 

Of course, you wanted to help Arisu and the others. You weren’t selfish. You wanted to help with the King of Spades. But Chishiya is always your dealbreaker. He’s always the priority for you. 

The sooner the King of Spades is cleared, the sooner the Queen of Hearts could be entered. If you go now, maybe you can still find and help Arisu and Usagi. You sigh. It’s been a while since they left and the sound of gunshots and crashes has dwindled into a few now. Where will you find them?

“Shuntarou.” 

Your tone was serious, venom dripping from your voice. Your head was still on your hands, covering your face. 

“If I don’t make it—if I don’t make my way back to you, you’ll go back to the real world and try. Live better. I don’t know how you’ll do it.” As you ask the question, you turn your face to him. “Just try, okay?” 

You don’t wait for him to answer, taking his face in your hands and smashing your lips against his. He kisses back almost immediately, taking a hand and placing it over your hair. 

You pull away earlier than you wanted to, still holding his face. His eyes softened, half-lidded as they realize what was happening even if he was the one that pushed it. 

“I’m gonna go.”

You rise to your feet, crouching. As you turn to leave, Chishiya’s hand tugs your hand back to him. Your eyes widened as your lips met his once again. This time, it was softer and moist, and you realize that it was because tears began falling from your eyes and had saltied your kisses. The softness of his kiss contradicted the harsh truth of the situation while the intensity of it matched it quite perfectly.  His insistent mouth was parting your lips, palm now back at the back of your head, pressing you further to his face. He groaned softly, low in his throat and you felt it against your mouth. You chuckle against his lips, finding the irony in the situation. 

“I promise,” he says when you two finally part. 

Determined, you gave him a smile and a nod. 

“Go.” His voice was hoarse from both his injuries and the kiss. 

Then you turn around again, taking one last glance at your man before running off in the direction of where the King of Spades went. 

Ruins welcomed you as you walked further, finally putting a visual to the people you heard were being shot as you hid with Chishiya. Against your will, you take a look at each and one of them, crouching and hiding once in a while and hoping that one of them wasn’t people you know. 

You hear multiple gunshots from what looked like it came from an alley. Hastily, you run in that direction. 

As you get nearer, you hear the familiar voices. However, they weren’t speaking, they were screaming in agony. 

You readied your gun, cocking it, and stealthily walked into the alley. Usagi was shouting in pain. Kuina too. You walk faster, the lightest you could possibly go knowing that the King of Spades may know you’re coming. 

You lean on the wall as you reach a turning point, slowly peeking further into the alley where you’re sure that’s where they are. 

It was An you see first.

Her unmoving body sprawled out on the floor, her white shirt covered with blood. Next to her, was a crying Kuina, bleeding from what looked like multiple stab wounds. 

Usagi was on the King of Spades’ back, trying her best to choke him but he brought out a knife, plunging it into her knees multiple times. They were moving too often and you cursed to yourself because you were not a great shot. 

It was Usagi’s screams of pain that put you in overwhelming urgency. You take a deep breath, aim, and shoot.

Bang!

You press the trigger at the same time as the King of Spades throws Usagi from his back and onto the ground. You keep on shooting, revealing yourself from your hiding place at the edge of the alley and marching to him. 

The bullets hit and some don’t, having been avoided by the skilled man. A veteran. Or maybe someone like Aguni. You can see his face unlike before and there were no longer multiple pieces of armor adorning his body. 

He heads on straight to you and before he reaches you, you throw the gun far behind him. He only has a knife and you can’t risk him having a gun. It has to be this way for you to beat him. 

You hear Kuina or Usagi mumbling your name as they realize that you were here.

Your opponent lunges at you with his blade and you run to tackle him, putting both your fists forward. As he swings his fist holding the knife, you misdirect him with what supposedly looked like a tackle and swiftly shift to the right and smack his face with your right fist while holding his left arm with your left. The impact makes him stumble to his right and you jump, kicking his waist with both feet to make him lose his balance entirely.

He didn’t. It didn’t work.

He stayed standing on the ground like a statue, putting all his weight on his feet. This made you clench your legs to his body to steady your hold on the arm with the knife. 

He uses the opportunity to grab your leg and keep it there. You repeatedly slam his head with your fists while he, like a bull, runs and slams your back to the nearest wall. You grunt in pain, your other leg that he wasn’t holding falling and you use that leg’s foot and slam it against the wall so you won’t be pressed further. 

You put all your strength into preventing him from using the blade and take the pressure of you against the wall to steady yourself. You smash your fist on his eyes repeatedly and repeatedly until his head is thrown back. 

He growls. The hold that was on your leg tightens enough to hurt the muscle and you scream in pain while still slamming your fists into his face. The pressure of his hold was enough for him to lift you again and then throw your body on the ground. 

You were quick to go back on your feet and he was already lunging at you but you spin, unsheathing the Katana on your back and pointing it at him. You put yourself in the traditional Kendo stance with both your hands on the grip, left foot behind the right, and hips straightforward. 

This makes him step back enough but still hold the knife in his hands with conviction, ready to attack or counter at any given moment. 

To be honest, you’re never very well versed in playing around with swords but… you’ve been carrying it around all this time, won’t it be a waste to not use it?

You attack first, swinging the sword which he blocks with his small blade. You swing to the other side and he blocks that again. 

You back away again and thrust forward which he avoids by jumping to his right. He rushes with his knife and knowing you can’t block it with your long blade, you bend backward and go under his arm. Successfully, you avoid his attack then spin and turn to face him again, slashing your sword onto his back, creating a huge gash on his shirt, his bulletproof vest, and his skin. 

Your eyes are wide as blood drips from your blade. 

Wow, these things are really sharp, you think. 

You attack again as he turns around, swinging the blade again and he backs away to the wall to avoid it. 

You expected him to dodge but he didn’t. What he did catches you off guard as he quite literally holds the blade of your sword in hand and not minding as the skin on his palm is sliced open. Brows furrowed and eyes blazed, he holds the sword in place and then uses the blade in his other hand to stab you in the stomach.

The blade pierces your skin in one swift motion and your jaw drops, not even having the chance to scream in pain. He stabs you again. And again. And again. Harder and deeper at every thrust.

You grip the hand with the knife, pushing all your strength into both hands. He was so strong that you could barely keep his hand away from your stomach. You wanted to slam his hand on the wall but he was far too strong like a rock. 

Tears well up in your eyes. You still have to go back to Chishiya. 

But this was starting to look like a losing game. 

From your peripheral, you see Aguni crawling in the direction of where you threw your gun. So he was still alive. Even if you lose, he can win. And where was Arisu? You doubt he left Usagi alone.

And then it hits you.

They have a plan.

You scream and push with all your might, overpowering the King of Spades’ hand and slamming the knife against the wall. You slam your head from under his chin while repeatedly slamming his fist against the wall until his grip on the knife loosens.

However, him losing the blade causes his hand to be free from anything and he uses it to overpower you again, slamming his fist against your face in one big punch. His fist was heavy and his punch was nothing like you ever received before. It caused your head to throb and everything felt blurry for a few seconds.

You realized that you were thrown on the ground from the impact and your sword was no longer in your hand. Your vision was still a bit fuzzy as you see him holding the sword but then hear it hit the ground from far away. 

Seeing from your eyes opening and closing out of consciousness, his silhouette was picking something up and then he was on top of you. 

Why can’t you move? Everything feels so strange. Will you really lose this time? 

You felt a weight on your torso and a black figure hovering over you. He raises his fist, slamming it across your jaw. Fuck. Was that fucking personal? 

Your hand shoots up to stop the King of Spades’ other hand from stabbing you again. You don’t know when you’ve reached for your hunting knife strapped to your leg but you somehow did and plunged it right into his side and drew it back.

His free hand that punched you gripped your hand hard, slamming it on the cemented ground. You grunt, tears forming in your eyes as you try and get out of his hold or under him. 

You push yourself up as he keeps on pressing you down to the ground. You wrap your legs around him and scream with all your might to turn yourself, putting all your weight on him and turning him over. 

His wounded back slams on the ground and you stare at his deadly eyes, seeing the hatred and the urge to kill in his eyes. It scared you, to be honest. You’ve encountered lots of fighters. Strong, weak, arrogant, psychopaths, assholes, whatever they are, they always got a reason to fight no matter how pathetic it may be. 

This man right here, he has a reason too. And from the looks of it, it’s not because he simply wants to win the game. There has to be something like a personal agenda. That made him a lot scarier. 

You’re not stupid. You know you’re not a match for this man.

But if by wounding him a little, you’re helping the others, then you’ll gladly give your life. You just have to go back to Chishiya after. 

Maybe Banda was right after all.

Your eyes catch Aguni who was getting near the gun. You sigh and when you look back down, the King of Spades slams his forehead against yours, knocking you back distracted and he plunges his knife again into you multiple times, blood spurting out of your mouth as he does so.

You could no longer move, the force of the blade wrecking you back and forth, making you fall back on the ground with wide eyes. You even hear Usagi crying for you.

The King of Spades doesn’t stop assaulting you when you fall on the ground because you don’t stop fighting back. You scream and scream, kicking him repeatedly however you can. He pulls one of your legs and stabs the knife in your thigh, specifically where your previous gun wound is. This made you stop fighting, wailing in pain but you catch yourself quickly, stabbing the knife in your hand on his foot and on his leg. He kicks your knife out of your hand and steps on your palm. You scream as you hear and feel your bones break. He doesn’t stop, kicking your stomach and letting your bleeding out pace faster. 

Eventually, you become unresponsive to his hits, having everything feel numb that you can’t move. Your hand was broken, there were about ten stab wounds on your body, and your leg was wrecked. 

You didn’t realize you ended up beside Usagi who was holding out her hand to you while barely conscious. 

You hear two gunshots and you don’t even know if that is Aguni or the King of Spades. 

You were crying, face wet with blood, sweat, and tears. You have to get back to him. You have to tell him. 

“Usagi… help me. Chishiya,” you plead with a hoarse voice. “H-have to go back.” 

And then everything turned black.

Arisu screams Usagi’s name as she falls on the ground with you, her injured legs and the weight of you was too much to support. Usagi could no longer scream for the pain and you were completely out of it. 

You were crying, face wet with tears. The sight was breaking Arisu’s heart. The two girls who saved him when he was dying inside himself—those two girls who always seemed strong, who always saved him, he was watching as you both crumbled on the ground, beaten up, and weakened. 

He picked up Usagi first, seeing as she was the one still conscious or at least in the right mind to talk to him. He cradled her face in his hands, tapping it as she was being pulled and pushed from consciousness.

“Arisu…” It was barely a whisper, slipping past her dry lips. She calls for him, forehead scrunched as she tries to tell him something more but her body fails her. Arisu could only make out your name. 

He looks over at you, sprawled out on the ground and bleeding from multiple stab wounds on your body. You were hysteric and sobbing, trying to crawl the ground and away from them as he heard that the registration for the Queen of Hearts game was starting. It was obvious what you were trying to do. 

He doesn’t know whether to pity or admire your love for Chishiya. 

Helping Usagi up, he let her stand on her own for a few seconds before reaching over to you and picking you up, hooking your arm over his shoulders and his hands on your back and under your thighs. 

You groaned in pain at Arisu’s sudden hold, tears pouring down your face as Arisu’s shirt is soaked with your blood. Once he stabled his footing, he let Usagi hold his arm for guidance as she struggled to walk with her injured knees. 

The two of them walk in the direction of the Queen of Hearts game with you in his arms. Thankfully, Chishiya was on the way to the game. 

It was like a death march. Arisu seemed to be the only man standing to enter the game. If it was up to him, he’d rather join the game alone. But from the determination on Usagi’s face, it seemed that she wouldn’t have that at all.

He only wished that no one has to die any more after the last game. He wishes to finish the game as fast as possible, hoping that he could save everyone who tried their best so far and are still trying to keep alive. You, Aguni, Kuina, Chishiya, An, Heiya, and everyone who was still breathing here in Tokyo. No one should die anymore. 

“Shun…” It doesn’t even seem like you were still conscious anymore. He doesn’t know if you know he’s carrying you to him. It’s like you’re only dreaming of him. 

“It’s okay, we’re near Chishiya. Hang on, Y/N. Just hang on.” Arisu assures you but as he says this, your eyes finally shut close and your body goes limp against his hold.

As that rusted car came into view, Usagi and Arisu went quiet, dreading the news that they were about to deliver to the white-haired man. 

They pass the trunk of the car, catching the attention of the injured man in the bloodied white jacket leaning on the car door. He turns his head, spotting Arisu first and then the person he was holding. There you are, eyes closed, beaten, and bloodied. 

The hand resting on his lap drops to his side and he tries his best to sit up straight. Usagi lets go of Arisu’s arm and lean on the car’s trunk. Arisu carefully placed your body next to his. 

Whatever Chishiya was feeling was incomprehensible as he stared at your color-drained face.

Arisu couldn’t even say anything to the man. He wanted to say sorry but what would that do? He wanted to tell him why he brought you here but he’s sure he already knows the answer. What he could do, however, is to finish the last game quickly. 

Chishiya didn’t even notice as Arisu and Usagi left, still looking at you, breathing slowly and watching as your chest would barely rise and fall. 

He always liked being right. It gave him a sense of security that he was doing things well. You were the only thing that never made him feel secure as you were always pushing yourself into danger. He knew from the moment he saw him that the King of Spades was far too strong for you. When he said to you that you were no match for the King of Spades, he wasn’t lying. 

And yet when he pushed you to fight the King of Spades, he also believed in you. 

He could only wish as the blimp crashed that you were still alive. 

And here you are, lying beside him… and he is so proud of you.

He never understood why you liked fighting. He didn’t understand what rush you were feeling from blood and sweat. But you’d never understand how his intelligence excited him either. He guesses that you two were both different and the same that way. 

Ever since he figured out that you went underground, he’d secretly sneak into every one of your fights. There were times when an opponent with an established name in the underground would come and challenge you. When those assholes of an audience would turn their back on you and bet against you even when they know what you’re capable of, he would still bet your name. Those were the only times in his life that he allowed himself to not be critical. 

You never lost once. 

He was kind of hoping that it’d happen one more time. But you did win. The King of Spades went down, didn’t they? But why does it feel like Chishiya lost instead?

“Focus.” Chishiya pushed the book you’ve pushed away in front of you. You glared at him and put down your phone.

He easily snatches the phone from the table and put it in his pocket. “Read,” he commands, eyeing the book the professor assigned for reading. 

“But it isn’t due next week,” you mumbled angrily as you leaned your head on your palm while looking down at the book’s pages. Chishiya hears this but ignores you, all too familiar with your whining.

You began reading as he wished but after five minutes of learning about anatomy, your brain starts flying away from you and your eyes start to get droopy. Your head starts getting heavy and soon starts slipping from your palm.

Chishiya sighs and without even looking up from his book, he uses the end of his pen to push your forehead up.

“Ahh,” you groan as he forbids you to fall asleep inside the library again. How could you not? It was very cozy, cold, and quiet.

“If you’re not going to study just go home.” 

He knows you don’t want to go home, finding nothing but an empty house there. You’ll definitely stay.

“But it’s boring.” You whine in a whisper. 

He sighs, still not looking at you. “Not my problem.”

This time, it was your turn to sigh. “Why do you even want to be a doctor? And don’t give me that to save lives bullshit, Shun. We both know you’re lying.” 

He shrugs. “Just because.” 

“Because?” You press further. 

He finally looks at you with a glare and repeats. “Just because.”

“Because your father was one?” You ask, tilting your head. 

It was the reason. There wasn’t a particular humane reason why. He just wanted to see what was so great about it—saving lives. He had more than enough intelligence to do it and it was the same thing his father devoted his life to, so why not?

“Do you not have a reason?” You ask again, this time more seriously. He doesn’t answer this time. 

You smiled, looking at your book now. “I think I’m too weak to be a doctor,” you admit, lips twitching. 

“I mean, I’m physically strong but mentally, I don’t think I have it. But you, I think you’ll be a great doctor, Shuntarou. You’ll save a lot of lives and help a lot of people.”

You used to have so much hope in him. You still do. But whatever slight confidence he had in himself that he’ll understand and care for people once he becomes a doctor, he lost it when he actually started to practice medicine. It wasn’t all about saving lives. It was a profession driven by greed and power. 

He thought that he could just ignore it. That if he just focused on his job, he won’t be included in their greed. It was pathetic of him to think that. 

A man like him who came from his father and followed his father will eventually become his father. 

Ever since realizing that, he didn’t have the guts to face you. Still, you kept on cheering him on, believing he was purely saving lives. You kept on visiting him in the hospital and gave him gifts. You didn’t know he basically killed Hayato and many more people. 

It was just the way it worked for him. To be honest, he envied you. You were living a double life but you were happy with that. You had a breather. He didn’t. 

If you married him, you’d be tied up to a man like your father and his father. You wouldn’t want to live like that. He didn’t want you to live like that. He used to say that you’d just be a burden to him but now he knows that he just wanted better for you.

He wasn’t enough for you. 

He was always afraid that one day, you’ll see how much of a pathetic man he is and pack your bags.

After the King of Diamonds game, he couldn’t escape the heavy feeling on his chest and the boggling of his mind. He didn’t feel well enough to see you. He had to figure out what it all meant. 

And so this happened.

“Chi…”

He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating because he could barely hear it. But it did come from you. Even in your state, you were still mumbling his name. 

“Y/N?”

He called your name, desperate to hear your voice again. Don’t you have something to say to him? 

“I…” 

“Y/N.” His voice softened. You need to hear his voice to let you know he’s beside you. That way, you can tell him. 

Your face was pale and dried of both sweat and tears, dust and dirt all over it. Chishiya’s jaw clenched, turning his body to yours to face you. He held the gunshot in his chest as it ached when he moved again. 

“Shunta…” 

This time, you say it with a frown and a scrunched forehead, indicating that you were maybe getting a bit of consciousness. 

“I’m here.” 

Chishiya’s expression hardened, brows furrowing as he held your hand tightly. 

“I’m here,” he repeated. He felt a finger twitch against his hold. He held his breath, not blinking as he stared at your face. The few seconds that he was waiting felt a hell lot longer. 

And then you smiled. 

You smiled. 

You smiled and then your face relaxed.

The color drained out of Chishiya’s face as he realized what was happening—what he knows is happening but his mind, letting itself be controlled by emotions for the third time that day, was hoping for a different outcome. 

He hoped you weren’t just hallucinating before your last breath. 

“I…” It was coming from his mouth this time.

“I love you too.”

The skies turned dark and time was a concept that Chishiya lost track of. He was still holding your hand as they turned pale. 

He had his eyes on the Queen of Hearts blimp the whole time, silently wishing that Arisu and Usagi would win the game soon. He had all hopes for him. He knows that Arisu could make it. 

Congratulations.

All of the games have now been cleared. 

The first explosion of the blimp made him realize that he was not breathing well the whole time as if anticipating something. He let out a sigh of relief as the explosion was followed by another and another as fireworks scattered the sky. 

The whole of Tokyo is surrounded by fireworks and he stares at your face illuminated by them. It was done. What now? What makes the two of you?

All surviving players will be presented with two choices. Players must now decide whether to accept permanent residence in this country or decline it. Once again, players must now decide whether to accept permanent residency or decline it. 

What do you know… you do get a choice. 

His hand holding yours tightens. With his other hand, he pushes away the hair that got on your face, ignoring the searing pain from his wounds. 

“We’re gonna have to decline… I think.” 

You have to go back with him. And when you do, he promises to himself that he won’t let anyone hurt the two of you anymore. Not himself, not yourself, not your father nor his father. No one else. 

It will be just the two of you. 

The last thing he remembers is he was on his way to your date. It was the last thing he wanted to do that day. He’d rather work on some patient’s case. But it was his day off and he didn’t really have anything better to do other than work. 

He was walking along Shibuya when something that looked awfully like a meteor passed in the sky. Everyone looked up in awe until they realized that it was coming straight near. 

And then he woke up here on the hospital bed. 

The man beside him had burns all over his body. The side of his face was also burnt, Chishiya assumes as half of his face is also bandaged. He was throwing a coughing fit. 

“What do you want?” The man groans as Chishiya stares at him. 

“It looks to me like you’ve experienced a cardiac arrest,” Chishiya answers, vocalizing his opinion as a doctor. 

“What are you, a doctor?” The stranger asks. 

“Well, I did too.” He answers instead, not really wanting to tell the truth for some reason. The doctor did tell him that his heart stopped for a whole minute when he woke up so it wasn’t really a lie.

“What a coincidence.” 

“So we both almost died.” Chishiya raises both his brows before asking a question that relates to him as well. “You feel any different now?” 

The stranger sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I look a lot worse. What about you?” 

Chishiya takes his eyes away from the man. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my life, the choices I had to make. Pretty sure I’m gonna be turning my life around.”

With the way he lived his life, he felt like he shouldn’t be one of the people lying here on the hospital beds. There were people much better than him—people that deserved to survive more…people like you.

“Or something like that.” He continues. 

He was alone when the meteor hit. But he was on his way to meet you. He couldn’t help but wonder about you. Were you okay? Were you already in the area when the meteor hit? It was the first time in his life that he actually felt scared for you. He didn’t want you to be one of the casualties of the tragedy.

“You were a piece of shit too, huh? You fucked up?” 

He thought back to his life choices, the way he is as a doctor, as a son, and as a friend to you. He did fuck up. He forgot why he was doing all of these in the first place. Him being here alive, it felt like he was being given another chance. He wanted to be better. To himself and to you.

“I did.”

Niragi scoffs and sighs, halting the conversation and letting the room fall into silence again, only the light vibrating sound of the air conditioner being heard.

Chishiya asked for your name when the nurse came in. There was a lot in need of medical care but she clearly remembered your name. When he saw the familiarity in her eyes, Chishiya knew that there could only be two reasons and one certainty. 

The only certainty was you were definitely here and the reasons being one, your name was well known in the medical community in Japan, and two, you were in a critical condition. Doctors and Nurses at times of tragedies like this often have a hard time remembering their patients’ names unless they’re at the top of the list of people who need immediate help.

“Ms. Y/N L/N. Do you know her?” 

“Yes.” 

Chishiya pauses before continuing. 

“She’s my fiancée.”

The doctor agreed to let Chishiya leave the room but not before realizing who he was. On a wheelchair, Chishiya wheels himself to the ICU where he was told you are. 

He has only seen you a few days before but to him, it felt like there were missing pieces that he can’t seem to figure out. He had never craved to see you like this before. He had to see you. 

Chishiya pushed the wheel to turn with his palms, slowly walking the hallway of the hospital, and observing the other patients he was passing by. 

He stops by a man that catches his eye. His condition looked bad and seemed to be in a coma. He sighs, at least he was lucky with what he got.

Pushing his chair again, Chishiya realizes that one of the wheels is stuck. 

“Fuck,” Chishiya curses, looking down at the wheel while trying to lean his body towards the floor without opening his stitches.

“Something stuck. Here, let me help you.”

Dreadlocks come into Chishiya’s view first as she leans down and grabs something from under his chair. “There we go,” she mumbles and lifts her head, giving him a warm smile. 

Chishiya raises a brow, staring at the woman’s face. Her brows rise and her smile drops in return, slightly bewildered at his ungrateful expression. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful. It’s just that her face looked awfully familiar and he couldn’t quite think why. It’s unsettling how he feels this way since the tragedy. 

“Thank you.” He quickly drops his face back to a nonchalant one and thanks her. She rises to her feet, throwing what looked like a small piece of crumpled cardboard in the nearest trash can with ease. 

“Meteor too, huh?” She asks, scratching the back of her head. Chishiya nodded, looking at her from head to toe. It doesn’t seem like she’s in a bad condition seeing as she can still walk with her two feet.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad for me.” She quickly notices what Chishiya meant by his look. “Although they said my heart stopped for like a minute. I’m Kuina, by the way.” 

“Chishiya,” he introduces himself. “They told me my heart stopped too. So did the one I’m sharing my room with.” 

“Huh. That’s weird.” Kuina pursed her lips, crossing her arms. “So, ‘ya know anyone here?”

Chishiya nodded, a bit confused as to why he was keeping a conversation with a complete stranger yet he answers. “Yeah. I’m looking for my fiancée.” 

Kuina evidently pauses, a little shocked by the information. That could only mean that his fiancée is in critical condition if she’s on this floor. She nods and asks. “Do you need help? I can wheel you to them.”

Oddly enough, Chishiya lets her. His new acquaintance pushes his wheelchair slowly as he eyes the names on the doors of the single-bed ICUs. The hospital they were in was quite large and no doubt owned by your father. He’s quite surprised you weren’t transferred to a VIP one yet. Was your condition that bad? 

“Wait.” He stops Kuina as he sees that familiar name on the side of the sliding glass door. 

Y/N L/N

“She’s here.” 

He could see clearly from outside. You were there, on the bed enclosed by protective transparent curtains. A weirder feeling settles on his chest and then he finally feels it. He finally finds what he lost along the way—what he craved to feel again.

Care. Despair. Agony. He finally understands as a tear falls from his eye. 

He loves you.

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only in ao3 under the name vantantae. thank you.

[jinlias]

tally - rosé

— songwriter!, musician! rosé, paparazzi

i say fuck it when i feel it, cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like

rosé was exhausted, she hates this cycle. of sneaking around and hiding under dark clothes when you’re in public, of hiding her lockscreen and the polaroid on her phone case from appearing on photos or videos, she hated being unable to talk about you to everyone, she hated all of this, loathed it.

but she always kept you around, even if you had to ride with crew most of the time, for when she was away from you too long she would start to hear her own heartbeat more than she’d like. you were peace to her. rosé was exhausted, but mostly, she was furious.

and i ain’t gon conceal it, while you talking all that shit, i’ll be getting mine

it was a thing of time, that everyone started noticing the same feminine silhouette around her even when none of her crew was. fans kept up with her management team, everyone even knew her re-ocurring friend group, they just couldn’t pinpoint where u fell, yet, you were always there.

don’t apologize for my behavior, if you’re offended i don’t care.

she never fit in the usual korean mold, the delicate, educated and always quiet women she shared the industry with because they valued their dream career more than their own freedom. controversy is what made her stand out, it’s how she blew up, it’s expected no one was too surprised when she started a soft launch of your relationship. pictures of the two bowls of food, tangled hands, two shadows on a crosswalk, small, private, intimate photos like these easily gave away it was not just one of her friends.

sometimes i like to go play dirty, just like all of the fuckboys do, that’s my choice and there’s no one i’m hurting, when that’s not girly.

but rosé has always been open about her private life, she’s never hid behind dark clothes or hats, at least not until you. she was a weekly topic on social media, everyone took out the time to discuss her possible hook ups, like that was of important matter to anyone else.

that’s why everyone else was so observant now, because all of the sudden she stopped running out of models’ apartments at three am with tousled hair. instead, she was seen hiding behind her clothes and around a becoming familiar silhouette at restaurants, movie theaters, parks, at houses and parties of families who no one’s ever seen before, which was the ideal, but people would just not stop watching her. and you.

everybody tells me to play nice, everybody judge but looking twice, but my body don’t belong to none of them though, and i’m not going to change cuz you say so.

she was tired of playing nice, of laughing it off when men asked her about her love life, when the woman interviewer asked about any special boys in her life. she was tired of everyone assuming and deciding which one of her friends she was dating today. why couldn’t they see she loved you? why couldn’t they just move on? she wasn’t theirs to play around with, she just wanted to do what she loved, surrounded by people she loved. surrounded by you.

warned me to make the rules, or play the fool, it ain't that hard to choose

“rosie, this could make or break your career” you really wish it wasn’t this hard, you wish you could just love each other and live contently. without anyone else interfering.

“i don’t give a fuck anymore. i need you to do the same” she’s cried, she’s given up. but she’s angry, she wants this over. she wants you two to be free. “will you walk the red carpet with me? please” she asks again, begs, her eyes are telling you all of the above. how she can’t take this anymore, if she has to pretend she doesn’t know you for one more night, she might just explode.

rosé can’t ever explain to you the amount of bliss she felt when you agreed, she had been given an ultimatum since the beginning, play the fool or break the rules. play the fool because it could save her career, break the rules because it could save her. she’s finally brave enough to choose for you. and she chooses to be immensely happy, publicly

i say fuck it when i feel it. cuz no one’s keeping tally i do what i want with who i like.

that night, hell broke loose. so did the internet, the photo of her kissing you at the red carpet had millions of fans publicly giving up on her, but so many more expressing their gratitude and pride for her. regardless she couldn’t care less about the numbers, the money, all she cared about was you, her, your future together, and how it was finally possible.

[csuitebitches]

Book Review: Book 1: Stop People Pleasing (a 9-part series by Patrick King, “Be Confident and Fearless.”)

I’m reading a 9-part series by Patrick King, “Be Confident and Fearless.” His books talk about becoming assertive, saying no, not people pleasing anymore and being confident. Generally, such books are quite generic but I found his take on the subject interesting. His techniques to handle certain situations seem to be quite doable too. His techniques have been highlighted in bold.

Book One: “Stop People Pleasing”

A people-pleaser is worried about rejection. They have a need, as we all do, to be accepted and treasured—to be loved. But in people-pleasers, this need is amplified to the extent that they will bend over backward just to not lose that love or acceptance. This is more invalidating than giving an honest opinion.

-

In reality, people-pleasers continued promises and inaction just tick their friends off, as it becomes apparent that they are willing to be dishonest and only say what people want to hear.

-

They’re not really doing what they do to improve someone else’s life—they just want to feel more positive about themselves.

-

Living under the limitations of our own viewpoint, we tend to think everyone in our circle is looking at and judging how we look and behave. At most, maybe a couple of people are paying attention to most of your moves, and they’re likely people you’re already close to who are supposed to know you better than anyone else.

-

When you’re so consumed with the perceived needs of others, you’re not paying yourself any attention. You could be overlooking or ignoring things you need to do to take care of yourself.

-

Avoiding confrontation for fear that it might only make things worse ironically results in the very outcomes it’s meant to deflect. The absence of confrontations doesn’t mean your relationship is all healthy, and the presence of confrontations doesn’t mean your relationship has gone to the dogs.

-

The BLUE model is a specific CBT strategy developed by PracticeWise to help counter negative thinking. BLUE is an acronym that stands for the kind of extremely negative thoughts you should recognize in yourself when they do pop into your head. “B” stands for blaming myself, “L” is looking for bad news, “U” means unhappy guessing, and “E” represents exaggeratedly negative thoughts.

-

What many people-pleasers fail to see is that sacrificing so much of themselves in pursuit of serving everyone else around them is sabotaging their very capacity to continue being there for others when it truly matters.

-

Rejecting an invite is not the same as rejecting your friend and that prioritizing your own peace of mind by just settling into a restful weekend is totally okay.

-

Ask yourself, “What are the things I do to be happy?” or “What are the core beliefs I have about my worth as a person?”

-

Exposure therapy is the process of deliberately placing yourself in situations that cause you fear and anxiety. You’ll need to immerse yourself in your feared situations in a gradual and progressive manner, starting from situations that cause the least anxiety and later advancing to those that cause the most intense feelings of fear.

-

Creating your fear hierarchy. The fear hierarchy is an ordered list of situations that elicit your fears and anxieties.

-

The first habit we must develop is the habit of self-awareness. We don’t understand why we people-please, and we’re not aware when we’re doing it.

This begins with questioning the motives for your actions: “Why exactly am I going out of my way for this person?” “Do I genuinely care for them, or am I just afraid of what might happen without them?” “Would I be doing this out of free will, or am I doing it for someone else?”

Take note of the moment you’re starting to feel internal resistance. When that happens, stop everything and question why you’re doing it.

-

The second habit to cultivate is the habit of personal autonomy. An autonomous person knows what they truly believe and why they believe it. But the differences that you’ve valued your own opinion over that of others. Or you’ve at least valued it equally and not by habit put your own opinion as inferior to that of others.

-

That’s why it’s important to get into the habit of expressing yourself honestly. The more you communicate where you stand, the more people will know where you’re coming from (and what your limits are). After all, people can’t read minds, and to expect others to know what you want is an impossible task.

-

Remain strong under pressure. When you stop people-pleasing, you will face some angry reactions. It’s not necessarily their fault because you have conditioned their expectations. But this is where you must not fold under pressure, like you previously would have. It only takes five seconds of extreme willpower, and it gets easier every time thereafter.

-

How to set boundaries:

1. Determine your core values

2. Change yourself and only yourself. You dont control other people

3. Set consequences of someone else breaking your boundaries. Write down the boundaries you have, the actions others might take that trespass those boundaries, and exactly what you will do when they’ve violated your boundaries.

4. Communicate your boundaries to others in very exact terms. Make sure everybody’s very, very clear on what your limits are.

-

If you tell yourself “I can’t,” you’re simply reminding yourself of the limitations you’ve set for yourself. You’re creating a feedback loop in your brain that tells you that you can’t do something that you would normally want to do.

When you tell yourself “I don’t,” you’re creating a feedback loop that reminds you of your power and control of the situation. You’ve given yourself a line in the sand that takes the situation out of your hands. Your choice was premade to say no and thus you can stick to it more easily.

[randombush3]

Blame It on the Dog.

florence pugh x reader

summary: you make flo a little annoyed when watching her cook

words: 1978 (short 💔)

warnings: none! (god can u believe it)

notes: requested by @kassies-take - thank you so much. this was so peaceful and relaxing to write.

also i’m an awful cook so don’t ask me what she was making

Having proper meals has never been your top priority in life. Earning enough to put food on the table, yes. Eating the food on the table? That could wait.

Then your girlfriend came along, begged you to live with her, and decided she’d be your personal chef until the day you die (and she’d run into oncoming traffic before allowing the cause of death to be malnutrition). Breakfast is always fresh and healthy and too good not to eat, and as lunch can be on-the-go and busy, a hearty dinner finishes your day. Like bookends.

Sometimes, Flo gets lonely and talkative – usually when you’re not around to sit at the table and nod along to her monologue – hence her personal cooking show on her Instagram. It goes smoothly because she has no distraction, bar the scavenging dog and her impeccable music taste (which you don’t tend to like because it gets wacky and you have enough strangeness in your life through her), and her followers keenly watch every part to her lengthy story because they love her and the food looks good.

The food is good; so good that she frequently doesn’t have to make dessert.

“Y/n,” Flo grumbles, prodding you with a jittery index. You recline on the sofa, having been lazing around ever since you stepped through the front door.

She’s been on edge recently. Nothing’s come your way, but you can sense that something (or someone) has worsened her general anxiety and caused her to become restless and, frankly, a little irritating.

“Hm?” You open your eyes. “You okay?” She nods, fingers playing with the bow of her apron, rubbing the fabric between them. “Oh, is dinner ready?”

“No, I was just about to start on it,” explains Flo, perching on the arm of the sofa, fingers now walking up and down your forearm.

“You seem antsy.”

“Do I?”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering why she’s in denial. She’s quite upfront most of the time, and you say, “yeah, you do. You look like you’re about to stress-cook a five course meal.” She slides down the arm, landing lightly in your lap. “What’s wrong?”

“Just people.” Ah. Rumours. Normal things. “I’m going to film a Cooking With Flo – I was just telling you in case you wanted to watch.” Two years and you’ve never seen the entirety of your personal cooking show. You might catch the end if you get to the kitchen early.

You press a kiss to her lips. “Sounds fun. I’ll be your first live human audience.” Billie barks from the other side of the sofa, where she has been matching your mood and napping on a handmade cushion Flo picked up when filming in Morocco. “Sorry!” She turns away from the both of you in a huff, and Flo calls after her saying she cherishes her company more than yours. “I’m going to push you off me in a second.”

Dramatically, she groans. “My girls hate me, do they? Good thing millions of people can be my friends instead.”

“Fuck off,” you joke, wrapping your arms around her waist before she can saunter off. You bury your face in her hair, breathing in the smell of a shampoo that was yours originally but stolen and carted off round the globe by her. “I love you. I know you’re stressed.”

“Y/n…” She hates trying to be cross with you because she hates failing. She relaxes into you. “I’m just going to cook it out. Are you coming or are you both going to be couch potatoes?”

You pat Billie’s bum. “We forgive you for making us compete for your love and affection.” Billie grunts in agreement. “But my associate here is demanding cuddles as compensation. Specifically, cuddles for me – oh, that’s so kind of you, Billie – involving a kiss or two or three, and maybe some state of undress. Scandalous, but you have to pay the price.”

“And this is all Billie’s idea?” she teases, turning around and straddling you. If you had been looking at the dog, you would have seen her roll her eyes. “Definitely not yours.”

“No, I would never ask for that. I think Florence Pugh is a bad kisser.”

She frowns, standing up. “I’m never kissing you again. Billie gets all my love from now on.” To top it off, the dog follows her as she exits the room, tail wagging like she knows she is suddenly number one. You trail after them because there’s nothing else for you to really do.

It makes your girlfriend quite smug to see you observing her every move, staring when her hips sway to a song she’s only playing because she knows you hate it. The music barely registers in your mind as you settle your gaze on her, only tuning into her commentary to keep you grounded. Otherwise you’d probably pounce on her.

Deciding to satisfy an alternative hunger (she’s adamant that you can’t sleep with her until you retract your statement from earlier, but you’re a stubborn woman and refuse), you reach across the worktop for the chopping board, pulling it towards you. Flo is in her own world, filming what’s happening on the stove, talking to her phone. You wash the chopped cherry tomatoes down with the margarita she made both of you, sliding the board back to a similar position it was in when she left, pretending you’ve been sitting there doing nothing the whole time her back has been turned.

“I’ve prepped the–” Your guilty expression and the sudden decline in tomatoes cause her to stop recording. “Did you eat them?” You shake your head. Shamelessly.

“Billie ate them.”

She glances doubtfully at the dog, who is eating her own dinner, then back to you. “Billie jumped onto the worktop, and, despite the fact she doesn’t like tomatoes, gobbled half of them up?”

“I guess so.” You waggle your finger at the very innocent dog; no wonder she naps by Flo’s feet more often than yours.

Flo furrows her eyebrows, amusement slowly tugging the corner of her lips into a soft smile. She continues recording. “Sorry about that. I prepped the tomatoes, but someone ate half right from the chopping board. If you ever find yourself with a food thief in your kitchen, the best way to recover is to make yourself an even stronger margarita and reassure your dog that you don’t believe one word of the blame placed on her.” She looks directly at you.

“It wasn’t me!”

“Right, Y/n.” She rolls her eyes at the camera, using your arm on the worktop as a stand for her phone. You whisper to the microphone that she trusts you very little and that it is perfectly realistic for Billie to steal food from you.

The next time you take something is when she bends to put the vegetables in the oven, handily facing away and very focused.

She leaves the feta out, temptingly right in front of you. You have a whole shelf stacked with packs and packs of it in the fridge so you resolve that it won’t hurt.

Eating feta while looking at her bum (her jeans are very flattering – you remind yourself that she’s your girlfriend of three years and that you are very much allowed to stare) would be a perfect evening if she didn’t seem to still have a ‘songs Y/n hates’ playlist on shuffle. Once she’s finished her detailed explanation of why she’s now baking everything in the oven, she ends the video, uploading it to her story and catching you in the act. You freeze

“Caught feta-handed.”

Her face is so serious that you laugh, ultimately choking on the cheese and needing a long gulp of your cocktail to fix it.

“I would never eat your ingredients. I’m telling you that it’s Billie!” The dog is on the other side of the room. You pout at her. She ignores you and updates everyone on what’s baking.

“The cherry on top will be this white wine sauce that my friend showed me a few weeks ago.” It’s a good sauce. “Then all we’ve got to do is take everything out of the oven, toss the salad and add the feta, and we’re done!”

Her glass is empty, and so is yours, so you grab the bottle of tequila from the cupboard and start measuring things out in the cocktail shaker. You mix the drink and give Flo hers in a glass chilled from the freezer, kissing her cheek before returning to your seat. You groan once you get there, asking how long she’s going to be. You are so hungry.

“Y/n, can I use this one?” She holds up a bottle of Delas Freres. A sixty pound bottle. She makes faces at the camera while you decide.

“Do we have another bottle?” She shakes her head. “I mean, Mum gave it to you, so it’s your choice.”

“Guys,” she says, addressing her millions of friends, “this wine is one of my favourites, but if you don’t want to use your prized white in the sauce, you could easily use something else. But I’m gonna bung it in – Y/n’s mum loves me and will get me another bottle.”

You took Flo to meet your parents a month into seeing her. They used to FaceTime you to check in, now they only call your girlfriend. It’s okay because her family would much rather have you stay over.

She has far too much trust in you, because you drink a sixth of the bottle the minute it’s open and her attention is on something else. By now, she really should be expecting it but her mouth still forms an ‘o’. “Y/n!” She’s slightly offended now. “Why am I cooking if you’d rather eat everything raw?”

When Flo gets cross with you – which is rarely something super serious – she folds her arms and furrows her brows and sits in a hip; a perfect replica of her mother. You can see her prepare her war stance, eyes widening. She settles into an upset frown, over exaggerated for sure, and you exhale in relief. Thankfully it won’t be your last breath.

You make a big show of enjoying the food once she’s finished, not being able to bear the glint of actual hurt in her eyes. Part of you is convinced she’s acting, but you’re trying to make it up to her just to be sure. You might have taken your teasing a little too far. You can fix this.

“I’m not going to touch you no matter how many times you moan.” You swallow your water quickly, nearly choking; it’s a close call. “I know the food is delicious. You know the ingredients are delicious.”

“I was hungry.” She waits. “And thirsty.”

“You are definitely thirsty.” A euphemism. She’s proud of herself for that one.

You decide to change the topic slightly, knowing that something’s going to be slammed on the table in either direction that this current chat is going. (One is a world where she forgives you, the other is where she does the opposite.) “Has the response been good so far?” Your fork clatters against your polished-off plate. There’s a slight smirk of satisfaction creeping onto her lips. “Don’t be so pouty.”

“I am not being pouty!” You laugh. “And the response has been excellent, thank you very much. Lots of nice things said about my cooking.”

Her phone sits on the worktop. You grab it on your way back from putting both your plates in the sink, unlocking the device and going onto Instagram.

A few people have commented on your mouse-like tendencies.

You snap a picture of her pouty/confused/entertained expression, adding it to her story captioned: ‘she doesn't like it when cooking with flo becomes eating with Y/n’.

tags: @pewpughpew @ridlz @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @sophie-xox @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz

[abdulraveman]

Nishikido Ryo × Cookie!

Hitotoki Kyuukei-Shitsu 2023.12.15 part 2

Nishikido Ryo & comedian Cookie! sat down for a casual chat for "Hitotoki kyuukei-shitsu" on Japan Tobacco's official YouTube where they talked about SNS, hobbies, opinions on work etc

link to part 1 —

Translation below:

In terms of his career Ryo said he is really taking it easy. He admits it was scary at first when he became an independent artist. Cookie said rye must’ve been brave, Ryo said rather than being brave it’s more like taking responsibility if he fails. Even though all the responsibility falls on him, Ryo feels it’s better that way. He feels like his life & career now more healthy

On when Ryo will retire from the entertainment industry  

Cookie: how long do u plan to be in this business? Will you continue even when you become an ojisan? 

Ryo: To be honest, I think it I’ll be done when they don’t want me anymore. But by that point, I’ll realise it on my own and I’ll withdraw by myself and then live my life doing only what I want to do. Maybe I’m preparing for that now. 

3. Ryo does admit he sometimes loses his temper & gets angry. He doesn’t want be angry but admit there times he gets really annoyed & it shows on his face.  

4. On when Ryo feels peaceful:-

Cookie: is there anything you do, a thing, a place or an activity that makes calm and peaceful?   Ryo: I think it’s when I go for a walk in the park. When I takes walk with my friend, their spouse and their baby. I felt very peaceful.   Cookie: What about when you’re surfing?  Ryo: It’s really strenuous when you’re in the middle of riding a wave… I feel good after I succeed in riding out a wave. Even in winter, after a shower, I can wear just a t-shirt. I feel satisfied at those times.  

5. Ryo on what makes him cry & his views on acting:-

Cookie: I cried while watching the Blue Giants movie. I was so embarrassed crying in front of my kids while they were just eating popcorn. Have you cried recently? Ryo: Well, I don't really cry at sad things anymore. I cry more when I watch wedding videos of people I don’t even know 😆 Cookie: ah, because of other people's happiness? Ryo: I feel that is more touching. Cookie: Do you cry at once when you do a crying scene? Ryo: I can cry right away! Cookie: Some actors really get into their roles, don’t they? Even when they are off-screen. Are you not that type? Ryo: No, I'm not that type lol. Of course there are ways of approaching it, but in my case, even when I’m doing serious filming, I’ll be singing on a music show later that evening 😆

5. Ryo on cars:-

Cookie: are you particular about cars? Ryo: When I was about 24 years old, I bought a classic Mercedes-Benz car with vertical headlights. I still drive it now Cookie: Like the one in Ringo Sheena’s Tsumi to Batsu music video? Ryo: Hahaha yeah. But when I was in my early 20s, I got a little carried away and bought an Aston Martin. It was a DB9 model. Although I liked it very much… but every time I passed by the exact same car and I got little demotivated 😆, so I switched to a Mercedes Benz that no one seemed to be driving.

[darling-drag-brainrot]

hi there milo!!!! how are ya? it's question time <3 tell me a story about yourself. any story, from any time—yesterday, when you were four years old, middle school, anything. don’t focus on making it interesting or cool, just tell me something that feels nice to talk about!! is there an old friend you miss? a sledding hill you used to go to? what was the last meal you made? tell me something, but be sure to add details!!

Omg hi!!!!! Thank you for the questions because I love love LOVE hearing from you and I love answering stuff lmao 💖

Okay so a story I love telling because I am lovesick and also obnoxious is the story of how me and my girlfriend got together because it’s hilarious and silly and very U-Haul Lesbian trope of us 🥺 Also,,, apologies in advance this story is long because it contains so much backstory and I cannot shut up about my girlfriend because they are amazing.

So, imagine you’re me. You’ve just moved into your new building for your second year of college. You have some super cool new friends in said building and a super cool, super chill roommate. And all you could want now, is a girlfriend. Though you assume that’s not something you’re gonna get for a LONG time, which you’ve made peace with.

So, One day, I’m sitting in the communal kitchen with some of my building-mates. We’re all just chatting and joking around when one of my friends from down the hall let’s us know that his roommate finally moved in. This is shocking news because by this point it’s almost two weeks into the school year and while we knew said friend was supposed to have a roommate, we had yet to see them and had just assumed they’d never move in. None of us at this point have met them, and we have no idea what they could be like. My worst fear is that they’ll end up being the most frat bro kind of cishet white man to ever exist.

Spoiler Alert : They weren’t that.

Just as we’re speculating about this mystery roommate someone new enters the kitchen.

The prettiest person I’ve ever seen in my life enters, soft smile on their face and I’m instantly smitten. They have long, flowing black hair with a reddish tint, large brown eyes, deeply tanned (as in clearly non-white tan), and despite the fact they’re in extremely simple casual clothes they carry themselves like an off duty model.

I think in that moment I reached a new plane of existence because I vividly remember feeling my heart skip several beats.

Then they introduced themself.

Their name was Sasha. They were a third year. And they used they/she pronouns.

And to top it all off, they were the elusive roommate that we had just been speculating about.

Imagine you’re me in this moment. Faced with the most gorgeous creature in the world. Informed that this gorgeous pretty creature is now living down the hall from you. You can only imagine my internal panic. Though I tried to rationalize to myself that with how busy college students are, I’d likely never seen them outside of briefly passing each other in the hall. Hopefully I’d not have to see them again, because if I had to interact with them more than once I’d probably embarass myself.

So about an hour later my friends and I are still in the kitchen long after Sasha has left to unpack, and we’ve switched to the topic of the previously open door to one of the empty rooms in the hall which had mysteriously been locked earlier in the day.

Cue Sasha entering the room.

Cue Sasha overhearing us.

Cue Sasha proclaiming they know how to lockpick.

Cue about an hour straight of Sasha gathering everything they can from paper clips to bobby pins to butter knives as half the building gathers to watch them try to break into this locked door.

Then once this plan fails they drag their roommate around the back of the building to simply slip in through the window and unlock it from the inside.

Cue the plot twist.

The reason the door is locked is because the room is no longer empty. Someone has moved in. And Sasha nearly just climbed through the window, stopped only by the fact they saw all the luggage that the new person had left in the space.

So Sasha and us all abruptly stop lockpicking and as people scurry back to their rooms I sit back at my kitchen chair to watch Sasha begin wandering around the kitchen, rambling nonsensically about memories and erasing doubt and stuff that sounded vaguely cult-ish.

They tear down all the informational posters stuck to the communal corkboard before gathering my friends to crucify a large stuffed bear to said corkboard in a way that resembles a cult-ish crucifixion of Christ.

Fun.

At this point I am confused, intrigued, and mildly worried that this cute person is legitimately off their rocker. But once the bear is crucified they scamper off to bed with a big smile on their face and in my ‘ooooh pretty person’ haze I simply accept the fact that sometimes the hottest people are the kookiest.

I expect this to be the last I see of them but from that point on I start seeing them every time I’m in the kitchen (as that’s my favourite place to study). They sit next to me and chat, we browse Etsy together, we chat incessantly all the time, every single day until my friend begins asking me when’s the wedding.

This culminates in Sasha and I staying up ALL night in the kitchen on a whim- chatting, doing makeup, and being obnoxious as hell (I found out in the morning that everyone in the building could hear us talk all night cause the walls were so thin and I felt so bad).

And so, to not have everyone in the building constantly pissed at us for chatting so much, I one day (about two weeks into our knowing each other) invited Sasha into my room.

They immediately made themselves at home on my bed and we chatted for hours. My roommate came in and struck up a conversation with them and before I knew it I had woken up in the morning with Sasha wrapped around me like a blanket.

Now at this point I am even further smitten for them. They’re funny, creative, smart, unpredictable and a very good person to talk to overall. So maybe I invite them back to my room the next day hoping they’ll end up staying the night again. And when they do, under the pretense of it simply being ‘cozy’ and I am thusly emboldened to bring them back to my room a third night.

So, the day of the third night my best friend and I go out to lunch and I ramble about Sasha for approximately two hours. My best friend immediately demands I ask Sasha out because (and I loosely paraphrase here) she had ‘never seen my eyes light up so much’ when talking about another person before outside of maybe when I talked about Louis Tomlinson from One Direction for several hours straight.

I tell my best friend that maybe- MAYBE- I will admit my feelings to Sasha… at some point.

I admittedly was like 99% sure that Sasha liked me back by this point due to them sleeping in my bed multiple nights and also the ways they would make romantically themed jokes to me constantly under the guise of ‘teasing’ (the second night I woke up and got ready for my class with them crooning for me to ‘come back to bed my dear husband’ and I nearly collapsed).

But I was anxious and also scared and a little bit of a wimp.

Then, at dinner, I’m sitting with my roommate, their friend, and Sasha. Sasha and I are holding hands in a totally platonic normal friendly way (I swore) and chatting when the friend turns to us and goes ‘Are you guys dating?’

I freeze like a deer in the headlights and struggle to respond. Because NO we technically are not dating but I don’t want to say no too agressively because then Sasha my think that I’m disgusted by the concept of dating them and will feel bad.

After a long silence my roommate states that me and Sasha are not dating.

About five minutes later the friend smirks and goes (to me and Sasha) ‘Okay, but you guys have hooked up before right?’

Cue me and Sasha agressively shaking our heads and denying this because we have not in the slightest.

The rest of the meal was unbearably awkward from this point on.

Then: Night Three.

It is is one in the morning, Sasha is in my bed, we are literally cuddling and staring into each other’s eyes and I can’t take it anymore so I blurt out.

‘You know I’m attracted to you right?’

Because subtlety is dead and I can’t think of anything smarter to say.

And Sasha goes, ‘Good, cause I’m attracted to you too.’

And then I launched into a long ramble about how much I liked them but I was worried and didn’t want to label us or go too fast because I had emotional trauma still from my previous girlfriend and I liked Sasha so much it maybe scared me.

And Sasha listened and smiled and comforted me and told me we’d take it as slow as I needed and they would always respect my boundaries.

And then (because omg how sweet is that - I had never had someone be so understanding before) I felt the insane urge to kiss them but because I was still trying to take it slow I simply kissed their cheek instead.

Then badda bing badda boom we fell asleep and I woke up buzzing with excitement as I told my roommate (who was unbelievably happy for me) and my friends and my best friend (who all were just waiting for Sasha and I to figure it out) that I now had a girlfriend.

Then uhhhhhhh time skip to now and me and them have almost been dating for two months!!! How awesome!!!!

They’re super sweet and awesome and I talk about them on my Instagram all the time and I once had them sit for like two hours while I infodumped about RuPaul’s Drag Race and Crygi and Drag Con until they agreed with me that Gigi Goode is fantastic. And I also made them read some of my fics which they thought were cute!

Okay that was SUCH long winded story I am SO sorry but I just get excited when I talk about my girlfriend cause they’re sweet as pie and also I just think the shift from me thinking they were cute but nuts to spending every hour of the day with them to literally having them sleep in my bed for several nights before I asked them out after knowing them for two weeks is hilarious.

Especially because ever since we got together my girlfriend hasn’t slept in their bed in their room for more than like three days. They just sleep in my room (shout out to my roommate who literally doesn’t mind and actually thinks it’s cute and has invited in Sasha as the unofficial third roommate).

Yeah so that’s my story gjdnfnfnf sorry it was a novel.

[iloveyouphillipmorris]

i say this out of love. i think u should start taking responsibility 4 yr own existence. ur here wether u like it or not. u cant keep victimizing urself and just assuming that everyone else doesnt or wont like u. u have 2 actually try 2 understand the thoughts n headspaces of those around u and make an effort 2 be a good part of that. stop trying 2 escape into different realities, i know it brings comfort 2 u but there is such a thing as too much comfort and paths into self isolation. u have a future and ur decisions right now will be what determines it, and u will live longer than u expect right now. i hope things get better 4 u. keep making moves towards getting a reliable income, getting therapy, n furthering urself. ur doing great. i know u know its me, i just wanted 2 say my last peace b4 i part ways permanently. i dont want 2 keep in touch because i think u have hurt me in more ways than u recognize and i dont think i could rehash that rn n thats ok 4 both of us. i just hope u understand. be safe n well. xoxo

i don’t see thee point in sending things like this. you hurt me equally in ways you don’t understand, either. if you’re leaving, leave. i have a job, i have therapy, i’m on like 8 medication, i have a gallery show for thee entire month ov decemebr, im working with a local zine, i worked to get rick outtuv my life, i take care ov my home and family, i take responsibility for what i do. i didn’t used to but i do now.

if this is thee way you wanna do this, fine, but know it’s cowardly and i’m allowed to vent and talk here especially during a bipolar swing to a psychotic side which is yes, in my control. but it is almost equally outside ov my control. your monitoring helps me none cuz i know You know that you-know-who is still staking me. it’s just adding to my paranoia and anxiety. i do have few close friends, you know that, you were one ov thee 3. if i want to be alone, i deserve thee right to be alone. i was codependent on you and on you-know-who and V etc and it wasn’t good for me, iv grown distant from other people bcoz it’s Good for me to learn to be alone.

you’re reading my posts and extracting thee worst from them. it hurts like fucking hell you decided to go anonymous to tell me this when we breathed thee same air for almost a decade. i hope you know i would have come to you personally.

all that said, i will always love you. i just think it’s absurd that this is how you went about it. be well. bye.

[devilyn]

is that too much to ask? | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: love somebody by lauv

I don't wanna be the one to say

That we gotta have a conversation

I don't wanna watch the tears roll down your face

Know, I hurt you, and I, I'm sorry

All I wanted was to love somebody

— synopsis: tsukishima avoids physical affection with you as often as he can, and you wonder what it is that you’re doing wrong in your relationship.

— genre: angst, happy endings, & the product of my writer’s block

— word count: 2.6k

You knew Tsukishima wasn’t the affectionate type--you knew that when you asked him out in your second year of high school. You knew that if you hugged him in front of his volleyball teammates, he’d stiffen and cringe away from your touch. It was natural for you to start reaching your arms out towards him before stopping yourself and resorting to a proud pat on the arm and a bright smile. It was to the point where even Hinata once commented that he’d never even see the two of you hug.

Now that the two of you were in university, and almost three years into your relationship, you started wondering what exactly it was about physical affection with you that Tsukishima hated so much. You started to experiment--slipping your hand into his when you walked back to your shared apartment together after his long volleyball practices, or tossing your arms around his neck in excitement after he wins a tough match. Each time, he’d react the same way. He would pull his hand from yours, or he’d put his hands on your shoulders and put some distance between the two of you.

At first, you believed it to be embarrassment. He didn’t like PDA--you could understand that. Even you had a limit to how much you could flaunt your relationship status in public. But even when the two of you were in the comfort of your apartment, you wondered why he never initiated any physical affection.

“Kei,” you whispered his name softly, and he looked up from his phone to meet your eyes. “Do you...not love me?”

He blinked, raising both brows in genuine surprise and slowly lowering his spoonful of cereal back into his bowl. 

“...Are you dumb?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tightening your grip on your keys.

“It’s whatever,” you murmured, pulling the front door open and not bothering to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “I’ll see you.”

You left quickly to not have to deal with the aftermath of your sudden question, the door shutting firmly behind you.

Was it selfish of you to want more proof of his love for you? Sure, there were small things. Things like how he always helped you study for your exams if he could, or how he’d make you a cup of coffee before you left because he knew you struggled with staying awake during your morning classes. You knew he loved you because of these things.

But there was always a small voice in the back of your head asking if he only did those things to drag your stagnant relationship on. For a year now, it felt as if every day was the same with him. Actions were repetitive, dates were infrequent and only occurred when you asked, and at times, each day with him felt like a clone of the previous. Which is why you started wanting to hold his hand, and melt into his warm embrace.

Your fingers tightened on your tumbler, holding the contents of your boyfriend’s love--the coffee he made you this morning. 

Even at home, he would merely pet your head when you cuddled into his side on the couch. Kisses were rare unless you initiated, and he’d always tease you whenever you whined about wanting him to kiss you first. It’s not like you two never had sex either, so what was so wrong about your relationship that left you wanting more?

Your phone buzzed in your other hand, and you glanced at it briefly.

u ok?

You tucked your phone back into your pocket without replying. You never should’ve asked. Now you’ve disrupted the peace you had in your stagnant relationship.

Though, maybe it was okay to want more.

“Is it really a problem?” Kuroo sipped his drink through his straw, raising a brow in your direction. “You’ve been dating for three years. I’m more surprised that you didn’t bring this up to him earlier.”

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the half empty tumbler, teeth gnawing anxiously at your lower lip.

“...I think I was too scared in the beginning,” you murmured.

“Mm,” your friend hummed softly in agreement. “You’ve changed. You were always affectionate before.”

You blinked, raising your gaze from the table between the two of you to meet Kuroo’s grin.

“How’d you know that? We just became friends in uni--”

“Tsukki told me,” he cut you off, and your fingers stopped tapping against your drink. “And it’s not like I don’t notice that you hug me more than you hug your boyfriend.”

“First of all, don’t say things that can be so easily misunderstood,” you tossed a crumpled up napkin at the former captain, and he quickly dodged it with a short laugh. “Second, what do you mean Kei told you? He said I used to be more--affectionate?”

This was news to you. You never thought that he would notice how you changed to make him feel more comfortable with your relationship.

It was true that towards the beginning of your relationship, you were always scared of upsetting him, so you did everything you could to change to his needs. You held back words you knew he wouldn’t want to hear, and only ever spoke up if something truly bothered you. It worked up until the end of your first year before you started opening up to him slowly. But something you could never seem to breach was Tsukishima’s habit of avoiding physical affection. 

“You know how he is,” Kuroo waved his hand dismissively, “Your boyfriend’s terrible with emotions. I tell him all the time that I’m surprised you lasted so long--”

“Don’t talk badly about him like that,” you scolded your friend with a scowl, to which he snickered quietly.

“Well, you can’t deny it, can you? He sucks, but he has his good points. That’s why you’re still dating him, right?”

It was true that you couldn’t deny it. Tsukishima had many faults, and his lack of desire for physical affection was only one of them. Still, you were just as much at fault for not communicating with him out of fear that he’d leave you.

“He’s just scared, y’know,” Kuroo rested his chin in his upturned palm. “Just like you. Even after three years, he’s not used to affection. Why don’t you just talk to him instead of sulking about it to me? I feel like I might as well be the third person in your relationship with how often you two come to me about each other.”

You were quiet for a bit, swirling the now cold coffee around as you processed the thought of confronting the issues you’ve been burying for so long.

“...he’d never date you,” you finally murmured, turning your gaze out the window.

“Ah, and you would?”

You didn’t need to look up to see Kuroo’s smug smirk.

“You wish.”

But no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, there was some truth in Kuroo’s words. You had used him as a therapist far too many times, when your issues could easily be solved by confronting your fears and sitting down to talk with the man you lived with.

If only speaking to Tsukishima about your problems was as easy as it sounded.

By the time you finally gathered up the courage to even speak his name, your boyfriend was standing from the dinner table to grab your plates and heading towards the sink where his dishwashing responsibilities awaited him. The sight of his broad back seemed to glue your lips shut. 

You couldn’t get the words out.

“Do you hate being touched by me?” was the first thing you wanted to ask.

“Is it wrong for me to ask for you to tell me you love me sometimes?” would probably be the second, paired with, “Can you just kiss me once in a while without complaining about it?”

It all felt so childish, even before the words left your lips. So instead, you sat frozen in your chair, gazing at your boyfriend’s back that you longed to embrace.

Slowly, you stood. Before your brain could tell you how stupid of an idea this was, your feet moved forward until you were standing just a step away from Tsukishima’s much taller form.

Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and you could feel the way he jolted in surprise as you rested your cheek against his warm back.

“I’m washing--”

“Do you hate me?”

Silence.

Well, that question didn’t come out as expected, though it’s not like you didn’t wonder that too.

“Don’t turn around,” you pleaded quietly over the running water. To someone else, you must’ve looked like a fool, clinging onto your boyfriend like your life depended on it while he soaped up your dirty dishes.

He granted your wish, and didn’t whirl around to pull away from your touch. Instead, he continued scrubbing at your dinner plates.

“You have until I finish washing the dishes to explain yourself,” he stated calmly, and your arms tightened around his waist. It was a demand.

“I heard...from Kuroo that you said I used to be more affectionate before we started dating,” you stammered out quickly, “If you knew that, then why do you get so stiff and push me away when I try to initiate physical affection even after we’ve been dating for three years? Do you hate being touched by me so much?”

The kitchen was quiet, now that your boyfriend was drying the dishes. His hand stopped moving robotically over the wet plates, and he slowly set them down on the counter instead. You could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how. So you continued.

“I do know that you love me, Kei,” you murmured weakly, voice muffling against his shirt as you shifted to rest your forehead against his broad back instead. “I do. I know you’re always thinking of me, and I love that about you. But when you push me away, I can’t help but think that you’re just pretending to love me for the sake of convenience.”

“If I wanted convenience, I wouldn’t date you,” he mumbled under his breath, and the words stung to the point that your arms dropped from around the middle blocker’s waist.

No longer confined by your embrace, Tsukishima spun around and grabbed your shoulders, his eyes wide with panic.

“Y/N wait--I didn’t mean it that--”

“You’re such an ass,” you averted your gaze from his, trying to blink away the tears that began to blur your vision.

“Listen--” his voice was frantic, but you didn’t let him continue. You were scared to hear what would come next if you did.

“I guess I was wrong, and the voice in my head is right,” you cut him off, voice trembling. “So I’ll just tell you everything that I held back since it’s all going to fall apart anyway.”

It took all your courage to turn your teary gaze back to his deceivingly sorrowful golden eyes.

“Is there something so disgusting about me that you don’t even want to hold me? Even after this many years?” you began, fully prepared to spill every one of your fears from the past three years. “Am I asking for too much when I ask you to kiss me every once in a while? Is it wrong for me to want you to just tell me you love me sometimes? Am I a bad person for thinking our relationship has become so boring because neither of us want to make the first step to try and change because we’re both scared of scaring each other away?”

You rubbed your arm against your eyes, trying to pretend like you weren’t sobbing into your sleeve. Though you’re sure you weren’t a very good actor, with the way you hiccuped and took shaky breaths between your questions.

“Did I make a mistake trying to change myself to fit your standards? Should I have never confessed to you back--”

Your voice was suddenly muffled into your boyfriend’s chest, and you gasped at the suddenness of his hug.

“Please don’t regret it,” he requested weakly, his voice trembling just as much as yours.

Those simple words were all it took for your sobs to come out freely, your shaky hands clawing upwards to grip onto Tsukishima’s t-shirt, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. It was a hug you’d been craving for ages--one he initiated. You hated that it took you throwing your heart at him for it to happen, but what were you to do?

He allowed you to cry as he continued.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he murmured into your hair. “There’s nothing wrong with what you want. I was...just scared, like you said.”

“Of what?” was what you wanted to ask. And like he read your mind, Tsukishima elaborated.

“The more I hug you, and the more kisses we share, the more I fall for you,” he whispered, as if fearful of the words he was admitting to you. “The deeper I fall, the more scared I get that you’ll leave me when you remember how bad of a boyfriend I am. I want to give you 100% of me, but at the same time, I’m too scared to do exactly that.”

Your cries were quieting down, and you took shaky breaths, inhaling his familiar scent each time. Just his embrace managed to soothe your frantic sobs.

“So I avoided anything that would make me fall too much in love with you, but it’s already too late,” he laughed bitterly, pulling back slightly so he could cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing at the wet streaks staining your skin. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I already love you too much to let go of you, and you know it.”

“...you’re really, really not allowed to be cute right now,” you grumbled, and he laughed.

“Yeah, I could say the same to you,” he joked, leaning forward so his lips could brush over your forehead.

“...can you kiss me now?” you murmured shyly, and his grin morphed into a weak smile before his hands tilted your jaw up towards him. His lips met yours softly, and though this wasn’t your first kiss, it was the first time you’d felt this way with Tsukishima in three years.

When he pulled away, you were crying again.

“Stop crying,” he cursed, “If someone saw you right now, they’d think I was bullying you.”

You babbled something incoherent through your tears of joy, and your boyfriend’s expression softened in a way you hadn’t witnessed in what felt like years.

“You have to take responsibility, you know,” his palms cupped your jaw, pulling your teary gaze back up to his as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. “For making me fall so deeply in love with you again.”

You laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around Tsukishima’s neck to pull him down into another love-filled kiss.

“Until when?” you grinned when you pulled away, his eyes closed as he sighed happily and rested his forehead against yours.

“Until I make up for the three years I put you through,” he mumbled, and you smiled softly as your lips grazed over his lightly. As you pulled back, he leaned forward and peppered kisses across your face.

“So, until forever?” you teased with a quiet giggle.

“Until forever,” he whispered, lips meeting yours once more.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Since your requests are open i shall throw my brain rot at you <3

Slightly mean(bc he is a tease and is having the time of his life bc of the current scene in front of him) Kaeya that watches his virgin s/o try to fit him inside but she fails ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

And finally after some time he agrees to help out.

(uh also if u are accepting anons, may i be the ⚠️ anon?)

Pairing - Kaeya x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Degradation kink, praise kink?, very slight dollification

Word count - 1.7k

Other comments - Dude your Kaeya brainrot is always welcome here I love him. You’re so smart, mean kaeya is next level. And of course everyone welcome ⚠️ anon! Also this one is a little shorter, i just wasnt in the mood to write the build up i just wanted s e x

Your body was hypersensitive with nerves. It was your first time so of course you would be anxious about this whole situation. What wasn’t helping was your boyfriend's relentless teasing. It was aggravating and embarrassing, but part of your body was getting off to it as well; your body getting even more sensitive as time passed.

Right now, you were trying desperately to ride Kaeya, but he was just way too big and you didn’t know what you were doing so nothing was going well on your end. Kaeya on the other hand was having the time of his life watching you struggle.

“God if you hadn’t told me you were a virgin, I’d have never known seeing as how you're whining like a little slut right now cause you can’t ride me.” You shot your boyfriend a glare. God you just wanted to shut him up.

“Watching you struggle like this is quite amusing my dear… Maybe I’ll just sit here and force you to keep trying. You're destined to get it right at some point hm?” You heard him chuckle as you groaned out. There was a feeling that was beginning to bloom deep within you. You couldn’t quite name the feeling but all you knew was that you needed Kaeya’s help and you needed it now.

“Please Kaeya. This is driving me crazy. I need you Kaeya.” There was a needy rasp in your voice that made his only exposed pupil blow wide. There was a low rumble in his chest that only made this feeling intensify. You didn’t know what you had done, but you knew you weren’t going to regret it.

In less than a second there was a punishing grip on your hips, Kaeya’s long slender fingers holding so much strength in the iron grasp he had on you. Effortlessly Kaeya had you hovering over his pulsing cock. You whimpered in anticipation.

“Such a pathetic useless slut, always in need of my assistance. Hold yourself up like this so I can line myself up. You’re competent to be able to do as simple of a task as that right?” You nodded quickly, biting your lower lip instinctively out of mild anxiety. Once again, despite it all, this is still your first time. Your position did not waiver when Kaeya pulled away one of his hands. You could still feel the imprint of where it was on your hip.

“You’re okay right (y/n)? We’ll take this first part slow so as to not hurt you too much. This isn’t going to be amazing at first but just trust me it’ll get better. Then we can get back to having real fun.” The change in Kaeya’s whole tone and demeanor gave you whiplash; a stark contrast to the dark look he held only moments ago when degrading you. Instead he held a warm, almost concerned and genuine look on his face.

You took this moment to really admire him. The way his dark blue hair fell over him, shining in the pale light of your lamps next to the bed. Your breath never ceased to be taken away when you looked at him like this, cherishing the way his tanned skin contrasted the shining pale blue eye he had exposed. You guessed you had been staring at him for a little too long, with the way his expression started leaning more towards concern than anything.

“I always trust you Kaeya, this time is no different than the others.” A gentle smile formed on both of your faces. There were no words for how much you guys trusted each other, having this unexplainable bond. Somehow you both knew more about each other than yourselves.

Kaeya nodded before he nudged the hand that was still on your hip down, signaling for you to start lowering yourself. There was still an unease in the pit of your stomach, but it was much less noticeable now. You jumped slightly when you felt the tip of Kaeya’s dick intrude, causing him to chuckle quietly and begin rubbing comforting circles into your hip. You continued down, wincing as you felt yourself begin the stretch around him. It ached, and Kaeya was right, this certainly did not feel amazing, but you trusted him. After a few more painstakingly long moments of lowering yourself, you were fully seated on his lap. You could feel every pulse and twitch of his cock, and slowly the pain began to fade; leaving a burned need to feel more in its wake.

You squirmed on his lap, not trusting yourself to talk at the moment, in fear of saying or making some abhorrent noise. Kaeya’s punishing grip returned, holding you still on his lap.

“That didn’t take very long. Are you sure this is your first time? You’re really acting like a slut now.” The antagonizing tone returned to Kaeya’s voice, and it was really affecting you now. You desperately needed him to move. You let out a whimper as you futilely tried wiggling around in his grasp. A dark smirk graced his face as he tightened his grip even more.

“What was that my slut? What do you need? How am I possibly to know what you need if you don’t tell me. I’m not a mind reader darling.” You groaned, your face lighting up red with embarrassment with the knowledge that you were indeed going to have to beg this man to move.

“Kaeya…. I need you….to move please. I need to feel you in me. Please Kaeya help me.” You saw that familiar darkening on Kaeya’s face that made you melt, and an ache began deep within you.

“Your wish is my command, my beloved.” Before anything else could be exchanged, Kaeya hoisted you up until only the tip was still inside you then almost dropped you back down. You repeated this motion over and over and you let out loud moans and cries.

“That’s right. You’re my whore. I’m the only one that ever gets to see you this way or make you this way. Let everyone know who you belong to. Who exactly is making you whine like a bitch.” You cried out at a particularly hard and direct thrust into that one special spot that made you see stars.

“Say my name you little whore, say it out loud so we can all know whos fucking you this well.” You cried out once again, your moans being interrupted with the loud gasps of his name on your lips. You chanted his name like a prayer to the Archons above. In this moment, he was your archon, your divine being who you followed with unwavering devotion. What else were you to think when he was bringing you such pleasure.

“That’s it my darling. Even though your only use is being my fucktoy you are such a good one. You just keep sucking me in so well, this feeling is addicting.” You moaned out louder at the words he was throwing at you. Only moments later your legs began getting very tired from the constant up and down. You placed your hands on his toned chest as you began slumping over, not being lifted up quite as easily.

Suddenly you felt yourself being tipped over before Kaeya quickly pulled out, rolled you onto your back and caged you in with his strong arms on either side of your head. Without warning he thrusted himself in again, much easier this time.

“We haven’t even been doing this for very long and you already seemed so fucked out. Of course I shouldn’t be very surprised seeing how pathetic you are.” You could feel tears beginning to fall from your eyes from the pleasure that was wracking through your body. The tears only egged Kaeya on, as his thrusts became even harder. You could sense how sore you were going to be, you might have to stay home tomorrow. Kaeya began to let out strained grunts and groans, gritting his teeth in pleasure. He could feel the way you were squeezing him, and how you were about to fall over the edge any second now. He needed to ruin you.

The tears began to fall faster the closer you got to the end, a huge knot threatening to break in your core. After only two more targeted thrusted your back arched off the bed, smashing into Kaeya’s torso above you as you screamed out his name along with a few other profanities. Your vision flashed white as the feeling of your orgasm crashed over you like unrelenting waves in the sea.

Your cries quieted down as you slumped down onto the bed trembling, tears staining your deep crimson cheeks. Kaeya had grown much louder over those few moments and before long we was shoving his throbbing cock as far as he could get it and cumming. His orgasm took him by storm, nothing ever feeling that incredible before. The noise he made as his body shook above you and his sweaty forehead fell into the crook of your neck only made you tremble more. Before too long Kaeya gently pulled his softening dick out of you and slumped down onto the bed next to you. You were immediately pulled into him as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. This skin to skin contact filled you with the fuzziest feeling in the world as you snuggled as deep as you could into him.

You guys stayed in silence, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing of the two of you. You were both tangled in each other’s bodies before you quietly heard Kaeya mumble a soft ‘I love you’. You smiled and kissed his chest, not having the energy or willpower to speak. Not long after the two of you were lulled into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of your lives.

[jungwonenthusiast]

can I please request for prompts 2, 5, 10, 12 for hard&soft dom!heeseung and an innocent!fem!s/o from enhypen smut prompt list? prompt no. 5 to be said by the reader while the rest by heeseung

A/N: forgive me if there r any typos lol i hope u like it :)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), degredation, slight corruption kink

Word count: 2.4 k

You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm as another jumpscare appears on the movie screen. He giggles at you. “Is it gone yet?” you whisper and he nods.

Today was your four month anniversary with Heeseung and you decided to treat him by taking him to a scary movie he’s been wanting to see.You’re not a huge fan of them but you figured it’d be a way for you to cuddle him without raising too much suspicion.

He kept a hand on your thigh throughout the movie, occasionally squeezing and rubbing it over your pants.

You try to ignore the film by keeping your eyes on him. His hands, his legs, his hands, his profile. Anything to distract yourself from the poor family being killed on the screen.

It isn’t long before the movie ends and you walk out to Heeseung’s car.

“The brother was such an idiot. Why didn’t he just call the police?” he says while starting the engine. (haha engene lol sorry)

“The police can’t stop ghosts.” you chuckle.

“Maybe NASA could’ve figured something out.” he grabs your thigh again, it’s kind of his thing. “I’m surprised you survived.”

“Yup, my love for you overcomes my hatred for horror movies.”

He smiles and leans over to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s go to my place.” he says and you frown.

“But all the boys-”

He cuts you off. “The maknaes aren’t there, they’re paintballing in Itaewon.”

You groan. “Fine.”

The boys’ dorm is never your first choice which is understandable without elaboration. But you try not to get annoyed and instead enjoy living in the moment.

He has the windows cracked open and the wind is whipping through his hair, making him look like a moviestar.

Sunghoon and Jake are in their own rooms when you get there so at least there’s some peace and quiet.

Heeseung plops onto his bed. “Come here sweetheart.” he says with his arms out to you.

You smile and snuggle up to him, resting your head on his chest.

He pets your hair and kisses your forehead. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re prettier.” you say and he chuckles.

“Nuh uh.” he says and sits up. “Lemme see your pretty face.”

You sit up too as he holds your face delicately in his hands. “You’re so gorgeous I wanna kiss you everywhere.” he kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, and your nose, your eyelids, then your jaw, and down, down, down your neck. Your heart beat starts to speed up. You never tell him, but your neck is your weakness. He finally pulls away to give you a proper kiss on the lips.

“C’mere.” he says and pulls you onto his lap. You let out a small squeal.

He holds your waist tight as he kisses you again, this time slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan a bit, enjoying the sensation.

You guys had made out before and even grinded a bit but it never went further than that. Not because you didn’t want it. Of course you wanted it. There have been nights where you spent hours imagining what it would be like. You already knew that he’d be sweet, but you kind of wanted more than that. You wanted him to take control and boss you around. Maybe today will be the day, you think to yourself.

You start to slowly rock your hips against his and he lets out a low groan. His fingers travel up your hoodie and he’s delighted to find out that you aren’t wearing a bra. He massages you and pinches your nipples a bit as you grind on his hard on. You’re already so stimulated, you could cum just like this.

Heeseung’s curious as to why you’re acting like this today. Usually by now it’d be over, but why would he complain about you being naughty, especially when it’s been such a big fantasy of his to corrupt you. His darling little girlfriend who checks in with her parents everyday and wouldn’t dare to skip school all sprawled out under him, whimpering and begging for release. God, he could think about it all day.

He flips you onto your back and pushes your hoodie up, exposing your torso. Your arms fly to cover yourself.

“Stop that princess,” he kisses your stomach. “Let me see you.”

You slowly pull your arms away and he goes right to kissing your chest. “So perfect.” he whispers, rolling his tongue over your nipples.

You’re already squirming underneath him, eager for him to touch you somewhere else. And as if he read your mind, his fingers start to play with the band of your pants.

He quickly unbuttons them and slides them off your legs.

“Can I touch you?” he asks and you nod eagerly.

“I’ve never done this before.” you admit.

“That’s okay,” he kisses your knee. “Just relax.”

He kisses your neck, licking it and nipping at it, leaving a blooming bruise. Your body tenses as he circles your clit.

“I didn't know you were this sensitive.” he smiles.

You feel your face heat up. It’s kind of embarrassing. He was barely touching you plus it was on top of your underwear.

“I’m just teasing baby.” he kisses your cheek and continues the circling motion.

Soft moans leave your mouth as he does so. He pulls away and notices a wet patch already forming on your underwear.

His fingers slip into the waistband. “Can I touch you here?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Please?”

“You submit to me so well,” he nips at your neck. “I love it.”

His fingers find your slit and you whine.

“So fucking wet,” he whispers as he rubs your clit. “Did I get you that worked up princess?”

You nod pathetically, already drunk on his touch.

He circles around your hole for a bit before slowly pushing his middle finger into you. You hold on tight to his arm, getting used to the foreign feeling.

He pumps it in and out of you a couple of times. “You ready for another one?”

You nod and whine as his ring finger stretches you out.

“You’re doing so good.” he whispers and kisses your forehead.

Your moans get more and more needy as he curls his fingers in you hitting a spot that you’ve never felt before.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Feel good?” he asks and you nod. “I bet it does.”

He shifts down and settles his face between your legs.

“Wait what are you doing?” you ask him, shutting your knees. “I want to taste you,” he says. “Is that okay?”

You contemplate for a moment. The thought of it makes you a bit shy but then you imagined how good it would feel and that won over everything. “Yeah.” you nod and he smiles.

His fingers are still curling in you as he kisses your thighs, leaving small marks on the way down to where you need it the most.

After what feels like years, his tongue finally finds your clit. Your thighs shut from the sudden pleasure.

He chuckles. “Keep em open baby.” he uses his free hand to keep you spread.

He moans into you. “Tastes so fucking good.”

It’s so much to take in at once; his fingers in you, his tongue drawing circles on your clit, the vibrations you feel every time he groans. You feel overstimulated but in the best way possible.

Your fingers tug on his hair as your thighs begin to tremble.

“Don’t stop don’t stop,” you cry out.

His grip on you tightens and he moans into you, encouraging you to cum in his mouth.

A string of curse words leaves your lips as you reach your high, and it’s the hardest you’ve ever came in your life. It’s like you’re floating up in the clouds, and you never want to come back down.

Heeseung kisses you, giving you a taste. He holds you tight in his arms and tries to calm your shaky breathing.

“You did so good doll.” he kisses your cheek.

You hold onto him as your heart rate goes down to normal.

“Here let me go get you a towel.” he starts get off the bed but you grab his arm.

“Wait we’re done?” you ask and he looks at you. “Do you wanna keep going?” he asks and you nod.

“Yes,” you say and he chuckles.

He sits back down onto the bed. “I didn’t expect that.”

You climb on top of him and give him a passionate kiss, sliding your hands under his hoodie.

He pulls it over his head with ease.

You admire his lean body for a moment before kissing his neck and his collar bones. “Can you fuck me please?” you ask him.

He smirks. “Your wish is my command.” he flips you over onto your back and unbuttons his black jeans. Just watching him do it makes you wet.

He climbs over you, rubbing his tip on your clit. He sighs into your neck.

“You ready princess?” he asks and you nod vigorously.

He slowly pushes into you and you wince a bit from the stretch.

“Ow ow ow.” you say quietly and he stops.

“You okay? Does it hurt a lot?” he asks.

“It’s not bad.” you say through gritted teeth.

He kisses you, giving you time to adjust to his length. He pets your hair and tells you how gorgeous you look.

“Please start moving.” you ask him and he listens, slowly thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck,” he moans. “So fucking tight.”

You whimper so loud as his tips brushes against your g-spot that you clamp your hand over your mouth, worried that Sunghoon and Jake would pick up on what was going on.

He pulls your hand away. “Be louder, I want them to hear you.”

“But-”

“Do as I say sweetheart.” he cuts you off.

Of course you melt under him. How could you not. He’s so perfect. He’s the type of boy that only exists in books.

“What a good girl,” he kisses your shoulder. “Look how well you take it.”

You grab a pillow and cover your face with it, you can’t help but want to conceal your moans.

He throws it off and grabs your jaw hard. “What’d I say about that? Don’t you want them to know how much of a slut you are for me?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Speak up when I talk to you.” he says sternly. His words make you throb and he notices. “Do you like it when I’m mean?” he smirks at you.

“Yeah,” you admit, sheepishly.

“There you go again being all quiet, keep that up and I’ll edge you until you’re begging.” he threatens you with a good time.

“What if I want you to do that anyway.” you say flirtatiously.

He raises an eyebrow. “I can make that happen.”

His thumb finds your clit and the sensation of him rubbing you and his cock ramming in and out of your pussy sends you so close over the edge.

The look on your face is so angelic and hopeless, you’re better than anything he could imagine.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” he kisses you. “You look so pretty while being fucked.”

He snaps his hips into yours and your eyes roll back.

“Just like that.” you whine.

“How bad do you want it?” he asks you.

“So bad,” you say out of desperation. At this point you don’t care. Heeseung had taken over your mind, ego, and pride. “You feel so fucking good inside of me.”

He smiles. “How could such a sweet voice say such dirty words.” Then all of the sudden he pulls out. You nearly cry out from the unexpected emptiness.

“What the fuck,” you swear at him.

“You’re the one who asked for this.” he says, still slowly rubbing your clit.

You whimper. “I take it back. I need you.”

“No take backs sweetheart.” he tsks.

He kisses your chest and pinches at your nipples. You writhe under him, needing him in you.

After what feels like an eternity but is probably a minute or so, he slams back into you and right after being satisfied, he pulls out again.

“Heeseung please,” you whine. “Please I’ve been good haven’t I?”

“You have, but I like doing this to you.” he kisses you. “Who knew my innocent girl would be begging for my cock like this.”

You pull at his waist. “I need it.” you tell him in the sweetest voice you could get out.

He sighs. “I’ll never win.” he kisses you again before pushing into you.

“Fuck yes,” you moan in relief. “Faster please.”

Thank god he listens to you.

You cling onto his back, pushing your nails into his skin a bit. It only takes thirty seconds to get you on the edge and Heeseung can tell by the way your moans are getting high pitched.

“Cum on this cock sweetheart,” he says lowly. “Be a good girl for me.”

And just like that, your whimpering his name like it’s the only word you know; like it’s your mantra.

“That’s it baby,” he whispers. “Just like that.”

Your pussy pulsing around him sends him into euphoria and he groans into your neck.

You don’t even realize the tears on your cheeks until he pointed it out. He looks at you in shock and holds your face in his hands. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck I’m so sorry pumpkin I-”

“No no it just felt really good,” you giggle. “I didn’t even know I started crying.”

“Oh thank god,” he sighs in relief and kisses your forehead. “You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had you know.”

You laugh. “Stop it, you sound like a man whore.”

“Just being honest.” he smiles and pulls you into his arms.

“Shit,” you curse to yourself.

“What is it?”

“Jake and Sunghoon definitely heard us.” you say, wide eyed.

“Yeah probably,” he says “they probably got off on it too.”

Your face twists in disgust and you shove him in the shoulder.

He cackles. “I mean wouldn’t you?”

You think to yourself. “Yeah I probably would.”

[myherowritings]

PART 4. HOW THE RICH SUCK THEIR OWN DICKS

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.9k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. enji makes an appearance bleh, enji being classist, enji...ew, okay i swear most of the chapter is shouto and y/n being cute though 

A/N. ngl i have genshin brainrot real bad at the moment but i still have motivation for ceo!shouto and ceo!shouto only u.u there are only 7 parts to this series so we’re at the halfway mark already AHHH i hope u enjoy reading and lmk what u think!! :3 xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

Shouto’s day went from good to bad faster than it took to pull an espresso. 

It started off with a good morning text from you and having a brief, but pleasant, interaction at your work. Actually, the past few weeks have been going along a similar routine that he found himself settling into all too comfortably. You even upheld your promise of stealing him away one weekend to walk around the park, get food, and just have time to relax and be happy for once. 

Getting to be in your presence almost daily became so normalized in his life that even some of his employees heard about the cute barista with the best pastries. Yet, although he saw you often, he found himself wanting to talk to you more and more.

But for now, Shouto told himself to settle with starting the mornings off with you. They were the best mornings he’s had in a while and he didn’t want to sound ungrateful. 

Today, however, went sour fast after he heard his father was coming up to the top floor for a meeting with him. He didn’t find the idea of Enji visiting to be the most abhorrent thing, but the moment his father opened his mouth, Shouto quickly took that back. 

As expected, his father reminded him about the annual charity gala Todoroki Enterprises was expected to attend. Handfuls of galas ran through the year, but the once hosted by Naruhata Industries under the guise of raising money and awareness for the charities of choice.

In theory, a charity gala ball sounded humanitarian and a way for the upper class to give back, but in reality, most of the funds collected didn’t go to the actual charities, instead they went to paying for the venue, live bands, entertainment, the most expensive catering, decorations, and more. What presented itself as a charitable event in the eyes of the public was really a way rich people could flaunt their wealth and feel good about themselves for doing absolutely nothing to benefit society. A way for the rich to suck their own dicks, if you would. 

Shouto absolutely hated it. 

It was also a press opportunity and, in his father’s eyes, a way to gain public favor for the Todoroki business. Today, Enji attempted to tell him that bringing a date that fit the mold of high society was the best way for him to establish rapport through media coverage. Apparently, the image news outlets have placed on Shouto were either a heartbreaker and playboy with no care for other’s emotions, or a monotonous stoic who seemed like a robot with no care for other’s emotions.

In either cases, there seemed to be a theme of Shouto not caring for others. 

He sighed. 

“You can’t keep that image, Shouto,” said Enji with his arms folded across his chest. “If the media sees you with someone—a nice girl with a good upbringing—then your likeability will increase tenfold. If there’s no one you like, I’ll have to set up a date for you.”

For a while, he was torn between telling his dad to fuck off and trying to do as he said to keep peace within the family. But then, an image of you popped into his head.

“Actually, there is someone I like.” 

Enji narrowed his eyes. “Oh? An educated girl with wealthy parents?”

“There’s someone I like,” he simply repeated, the tone in his voice growing cold. 

He didn’t know anything about your upbringing or family nor did he exactly care. Shouto didn’t want to bring a date to the dumb gala, but if he had to, he would want it to be you. Only if you agreed, of course. But if you weren’t willing, then he had to face the facts that his father would most likely force a date of his own choosing upon Shouto. 

“That’s good you like someone, son,” Enji said through his teeth, “but we have to make sure it’s not some sort of...loose woman. That’d be even worse publicity—”

“I like someone and if you really cared about my happiness like you said you did, that’d be enough.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Shouto didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times Enji had told him and his siblings that he would try to be a better dad. A caring dad who only wanted what was best for his children. A better husband for Rei. A better example for the public. The first few times, Shouto believed it. But Enji said the same things over and over again with no lasting change and Shouto was just fed up. 

After hearing the same lie told to him over and over again, it seemed to lose its weight. He seemed to lose his hope in his father ever changing.

Still, Shouto had to deal with him for as long as he lived. That much he knew as a son living in this society. 

But he hoped Enji at least had enough guilt to let him have this.

“Fine.”

Shouto blinked in surprise. 

Enji stated, “If you think your date can help your public image and not be a complete embarrassment to the business, you can bring them.”

That was the closest thing to approval Shouto would get today. He nodded and listened along to whatever else his father had to say, the only thing actually on his mind was thinking about how he would ask you out on a date to some stuffy gala. And hope that you’d say yes.

— ✩ —

“Wait, so, let me get this straight— You’re the CEO of Todoroki Enterprises and even after almost two months of knowing you, I had no clue?”

He inclined his head, looking solemn. “Yes, I’m sorry. Are you upset with me for not telling you sooner?” 

Initial shock aside, you couldn’t say that you were too surprised at the revelation. You knew Shouto was wealthy and probably in some high-up position in the business industry, but you never knew to what extent. A CEO? That had to be the highest rank in a company! And a company as well known as Todoroki Enterprises? 

The thought made you a little nervous. The guy you slowly befriended over the course of short cafe visits and silly texts was Mr. Todoroki? Or worse— The guy you stole away from doing work for a whole weekend was someone as busy as a CEO? You internally groaned. That had to be against laws of the universe or something. 

“I’m not upset, no,” you said with a shake of your head. “I just...can’t believe it I guess.” Eyes widening, you were quick to amend your words. “Well, I can believe it. You seem very intelligent and well-put together and, uh, rich! But I guess I just didn’t think a CEO would be so funny and kind.” You winced. “Oh no, is that mean to say?”

“I don’t think it’s mean.” He shrugged. “You’re right to say most people in this field aren’t known for their delightful temperaments.” 

You absentmindedly drummed your finger against your thigh, trying to process this new information. “So you’re Todoroki Shouto...and you want me to be your date to the Naruhata Charity Ball?” 

“Yeah. I know it’s a huge favor to ask, and I promise you can say no if you choose,” said Shouto in earnest. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to agree.” 

With a hum, you stretched your legs out under the table before crossing one over the other again. It was a Saturday afternoon where you had no work and Shouto managed to escape from his for a few hours of the day. You took him to your favorite ice cream place nearby and the two of you ate at a dining area outside the establishment. 

Just a mundane day as two friends hanging out with each other where you found out one of those friends was the chief executive officer of a billion dollar business headquartered in Japan. 

Totally normal, everyday occurrences, obviously. 

“And you need a date for this event?” you asked. In all honesty, you would be more than happy if Shouto asked you out on a date. He was fun and you enjoyed getting to know him. But these particular circumstances made you a tad bit more nervous.

“I normally wouldn’t need to bring one, but my father insists it’d help my public image and in turn the image of the company.” With a pinched look on his face, he took a bite of his ice cream. “In other words I bring a date or he picks one for me.” 

You weren’t the most caught up on super rich people drama, but it was almost infamous how estranged the Todoroki family was. Again, you didn’t know much but you did know enough to say that Todoroki Enji seemed like a Class A asshole. If you could help Shouto out with his weird dilemma, you saw no reason not to. 

“So this charita gala is like where they have those live auctions and silent auctions and get tipsy on fancy wine and champagne for hours right?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Yeah. Have you attended one?” 

“Not quite,” you said with a sheepish smile. “I’ve volunteered at one in school though. As one of those runners? It was fun. I got a bunch of those tiny complimentary candies!” Your mouth watered at the memory. “What kind of drug were in those candies? I’ve never had candy so good before!”

“The tiny, circular candies with the excessively big wrapper? The fruity ones?”

You shot up in your seat, excited he knew what you were talking about. “Yes! That’s the one!” 

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards. “I always see those at these types of events.”

“So… The candy will be there at the gala you want me to accompany you to?” 

“Most likely.”

“Can I take a bunch of those from candies there…?” you asked with an optimistic grin.

“I’ll be your accomplice in sneaking them out.”

“It’s a date!” you said before Shouto could get another word out. 

You’d be reunited with those yummy, fancy candies you’ve been separated from for far too long. What other reason did you need to agree? 

With a determined look on your face, you held your hand out for Shouto to shake to seal the deal. 

He blinked. “Wait. Did you want to discuss it some more? Maybe have a few days to think it through? I’m grateful, of course, but I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“No. I won’t regret it. I’d do anything to taste those candies again.”

Shouto looked unsure what to say. “Isn’t there some parable warning people not to be bribed by candy?”

“Not to take candy from a baby?”

“No. Not that one.”

“That’s the only one I know.”

“Never mind then.” 

The two of you exchanged confused looks before letting out fits of laughter. You weren’t sure if either of you knew exactly what the other was laughing at, but the moment was an enjoyable one nonetheless. 

“Yet another reason to bring me to that fancy event— I’ll make sure you’re entertained all the way through,” you playfully bragged, smoothing down the front of your shirt. 

“The event will definitely be more bearable with you there.” He licked a small bit of his ice cream from his pink spoon, making a sound of approval. “But you can change your mind about coming at any time, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you said, holding a pinky out. “Pinky promise.”

With what seemed like a bashful expression on his face, Shouto extended his own pinky to interlock yours. You sealed it with a kiss and a heart, like you were a kid again. 

“Now, am I supposed to be in love with you at the gala?” you asked nonchalantly, finishing off your last bite of ice cream. He offered you a spoonful of his and you tried not to grow too flustered at Shouto feeding you his dessert. You murmured a quiet, “Thanks.”

He gave you a small smile. “You’re welcome. As for being in love… I don’t think that’s necessary. Just pretend you like being around me, I think.”

Under the table, you nudged his shoe with yours, pulling a face. “I don’t have to pretend about that, silly.” 

“Ah, well,” he paused, offering you another spoonful of ice cream, “I don’t either.”

“I’m glad.” Then, “Is this strawberry? I was never a big strawberry ice cream fan but for some reason this tastes so good.” 

You ignored the nagging voice in your head that said maybe it wasn’t so much the ice cream flavor but who you were enjoying it with. 

The two of you finished his dessert in peace and after cleaning up the area with a napkin, Shouto turned to you with an intent look on his face.

“Before the gala, would you mind if I talk you shopping so you could pick out what to wear?” he asked. “I would pay of course— It’s the least I could do to say thank you.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me! You’re my friend and I want to help.” You thought about it for a moment. “And get the candy.”

“Anything for the candy.”

“Exactly,” you said in complete seriousness. “But I wouldn’t mind going shopping with you. You could help me decide what to wear! I’m not exactly sure how to dress for an event as fancy as this.”

“You could wear anything to the event and still look amazing.” His words were ones of flattery but his tone sounded completely genuine. 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the compliment. “Look who’s talking— You’re practically runway ready no matter what time of day.”

“I’ve never walked a runway before.”

You stifled a laugh at his literal interpretation of your words. Cute. “Me neither.”

He looked confused at why you were grinning, but it still brought a smile to his own lips.

By now the sun had begun to set and Shouto was walking you to the train to see you off before you went home.

“Can I pick you up next weekend in the morning?” he said. “So we can get your outfit for the gala?”

“Sure! I’ll text you my address.” 

He nodded in contentment. “And again, you don’t have to worry about any costs.”

“Is this why my friends have called you a sugar daddy?” you teased, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked down the street, side-by-side. “But thank you. Shopping will be fun— We can even match colors!” 

“Mn.” He looked between the both of you, as if trying to picture what colors would complement each other. 

You crossed the sidewalk in a comfortable silence, enjoying the scenery by Shouto’s side. A few times, you even felt his knuckles brush against yours and you had the undeniable urge to hold his hand. Would that be weird? you asked yourself before deciding against it. 

Just because he asked you to be his date for the Naruhata Charity Ball didn’t mean he actually liked you, right? It was just a favor from a friend to a friend.

Something about that though made your stomach unsettled. Maybe part of you wanted it to be a real date— Wanted this to be a real date. 

“So I won’t be seeing you tomorrow,” you said after a moment’s silence, trying not to look too dejected. 

You knew he’d still text good morning and good night and ask you random things throughout the day (all of which you found really endearing, by the way), but it was still different from seeing him in person. Even though your time together in the morning was small, they still were enough to make your day. The thought of your waking hours being so entwined made you nervous, but for some reason it didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. In fact, it was sort of...nice. 

“I’ll see you Monday morning, right?” you asked hopefully, though you were already fairly certain of the answer.

Shouto nodded. “Of course. It’s already marked on my calendar.”

“Ever the flatterer, hmm?” 

“Not flattery, just the truth.” He pulled his phone out and showed you his (rather packed) calendar app. To your surprise, a little reminder that said ‘See Y/N :)’ was marked on his Monday schedule. 

Unable to stop the beam from spreading across your lips, you hid your face in your hands. Gosh— Did he have to be so cute? He was making it harder and harder to only like him as a friend. And even now, you weren’t sure if you liked him only as a friend.

But you pushed those thoughts away.

That was something to deal with at a later time.

When you reached the train station you normally took home, you turned to Shouto, giving him a big hug. He was tall and warm. You could feel his lean muscles through his button-down shirt as you rested your head against his chest and arms around his waist. 

“Thanks for today,” you mumbled. “I’ll see you again soon.”

After a pause, he gave you a hug back, hands rubbing hesitant circles on your back in a way that made you smile. “Text me when you get home safe,” he said as you both reluctantly released each other from an embrace.

“I will,” you promised. “You do the same! Later, Shouto!” 

And with that, you waved goodbye and boarded the train, unable to shake the unwavering grin on your face all the way home.

a/n: when shouto started feeding y/n spoonfuls of his ice cream i cried (Ｔ▽Ｔ) that’s so cUTE OF HIM LIKE PLS SIR STOP BEFORE I FALL MORE IN LOVE WITH U !! >:O he’s such a sweetheart ahhhh,, i hope all the fluff made up for the brief appearance of endeavor ಠ╭╮ಠ  FHDJKF 

what to expect in the next part:

shopping for the gala time !! 

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~ part 2

oh my, y/n has to try on dresses? oh my, it’d be a shame if they needed help putting it on :o *fake gasp* 

yeah things get just a lil steamy but shh