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#incomparable line
sivavakkiyar · 8 months
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André Malraux, from Antimémoires
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I cannot begin to express how badly I need Sam Reid on horseback fighting wolves in a snow-covered forest
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minakoaiinos · 6 months
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Lost my original post of this from the other day but I genuinely don't understand how Black Butler discourse ever shifted into the does Sebastian ~really~ like Ciel or is Ciel just dinner line of conversation that is pervasive as it is because Sebastian is the one that has absorbed his whole existence into Ciel's. Sebastian's face is what Ciel wants Sebastian's whole purpose is doing things for Ciel Sebastian's every hell of a butler yes my lord speech is about how he's Ciel's and Ciel is the one going around saying shit like whatever Sebastian is just my pawn 💅
#like sjdjdkdd??????#it's not that i don't think ciel loves sebastian per se bc. well. i don't think he'd ever process it in terms like that no matter what...#...kind of relationship they have bc the most important thing to him is getting him to do tasks like a dog and proving he will over and over#which is why sebastian does it all so overkill#but the most acknowledgement you ever get that ciel likes sebastian is stuff like idk the fucking book of atlantic you did good today#or if we're feeling really crazy the you were the only demon there line#like the dynamic has gotten way skewed in fandom away from the actual text#and i know why but it's still annoying bc i am not even saying this in a shippy way bc i don't give a fuck about ships#but they're so crazy entwined and in completely incomparable inhuman situations that it literally has no merit on this story to sit and...#...definitely piece together how this relationship works with real life normie standards like it literally is going to fit into no box of...#...what we think of as friends or siblings or parents or partners bc no victorian guy on the face of the earth has a real pet demon.#it's so boring you're missing the bigger picture that they're everything to each other and completely stuck together forever#does x mean y mean z? (least problematic answer only) they're stuck together! forever!#and no one has demons in real life it's all comparable to real life nothing#other than the asthma that's real#anyway. it's like fandom has made up a version of this story in their heads that is so devoid of anything that makes the story the story#twitter is like another planet for this i am mostly talking about twitter where i have been looking for news about the anime and oh boy#i have said this before but sebastian doesn't have a grip on human relationships bc he's not one and ciel doesn't give a fuck#but like this post started with and strayed from. well. sebastian isn't even trying to act like he's indifferent. ciel actually is.#and we're all missing several funny bits from that just trying to fit everything into a box#we could have more interesting conversations if we got past the same three people have been having for 20 years#kuroshitsuji#my kuro posts
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il-predestinato · 2 years
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#re: your post in my inbox is overall great and poetic but i very much disagree about verstappen's driving style and preference of understeer#he absolutely heavily favours oversteer#in fact his *preferred* setup is incredibly oversteer#like a whole new world of front end#it doesn't mean he can't cope with understeer - he doesn't like it (nor does charles) but he is brilliant at it (charles too)#i agree that his style going into a corner is quite different from charles - the way the latter throws himself into a corner is...#extremely aggressive#max is razor perfect and charles aims for perfection on the razor edge is more how i would describe it#for me their car preference is very similar - they love snappy front end with extreme responsiveness and have amazing skill to wrestle it#they scorn understeer because that balance through the whole corner is unnecessary for their level of skill but they ROCK at understeer too#in fact the less responsive front end makes the car more unstable to drivers like them#in their earlier days i would stay max's incomparable quality was his internal clock - absolutely unbeatable timing#so his corners/braking/etc are just perfect and he extracts the absolute maximum#charles of that era actually took a more square/straight racing line which is fascinating as it's not the 'ideal racing line'#but he lets the car rotate on entry into the balancing phase of a corner and exits with a straighter line#not at all like max but very fast#i think he has actually adapted as some of the short shifting out of corners may have led to more tire deg back in the day#meanwhile his tire management (ferrari setup disasters aside) has been excellent last season#elle.txt#analysis#technical#car ride conversations with the hubby... this is what we ramble about lmao#btw thank you so much for the message! and so appreciate your love of my fics. it means so much <3 ty!
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zincbot · 2 years
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"your body is yours and yours alone forever"
i'm fucking crying and cheering
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banghwa · 2 years
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TBH family tree (intro) >>>>> family tree
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harrysmaison · 2 years
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.
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shapoopy178 · 1 year
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Bro
Demi Lovato Revamped
I'm absolutely fucking floored
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muntitled · 1 year
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𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 & 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩
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: ̗̀➛ Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader | Brief!Harry Potter x fem!reader
: ̗̀➛ Summary: Jealousy makes the heart grow fonder.
: ̗̀➛ Warnings: Alcoholism, Dark!fic, Ravenclaw!reader, Bullying, Unrequited Love, Shy!reader, Toxic Relationship, Jealousy, Narcissism, Weaponizing!Harry (sorry boo), Fluff, A bit of Angst, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), DubCon, Semi Public sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Dom/Sub, CNC, humping, Spitting, Degradation, Dacryphillia, Choking, Gagging, Subspace, Slapping, Sadism, Breeding Kink
5k words
A/N: Hell truly is empty. I apologise in advance.
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You have made peace with the incomparable fact, long ago, that if the muggle God existed - if he is known to shepard Muggles and Wizards alike, then he was far too busy to attend to you. There is just too much going on all at once. The wizarding world is caught in its archaic intolerance of Half-Bloods. On the mortal side, you were informed from your private tutoring with Professor McGonagall that their smartphones are threatening devolution.
“It’s the closest thing they’ve got to a wand, Lovie, so we can’t really fault them on that, can we?” 6 years into your schooling at Hogwarts and you would continue to shadow Professor McGonagall, hoping you might one day soar to her heights of academic prestige in the wizarding world. You needed to be a Professor as much as a mortal needs to breathe….
You cannot let him, of all people, ruin things. Your reputation is a fragile, flammable thing - and he is freaking Kerosene.
It's difficult to pinpoint when it started or how your sensibilities rushed away from you so swiftly. One moment you’re planting your textbook on the face of a wooden desk - the sound reaching the rafters in the highest peak of the deserted classroom…
“A Guide To Advanced Transfiguration.” Mattheo read the title aloud with a tedious uninterested drawl. “Seems a bit presumptuous to shove this down my throat so early on. Shouldn't we be starting from the beginning?"
You ignored him promptly, using the silence to arrange your colour coordinated stationery on your desk beside Riddle's,
“I had no idea," You began, brushing off your blue lined robes and flattening the invisible creases on your skirt, "-That the person residing under my tutelage would be a first year."
Riddle stabbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue, while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Your face remained passive as you continued, "You are a sixth year, correct?” You asked with a snide tilt of the head before planting yourself on the desk beside him.
“You are a big boy capable of understanding big boy books,” Unbeknownst to you, your words managed to stir something foreign within Mattheo but he conceals it with his usual veneer of arrogance as he swings his head lazily in your direction.
"May we begin?" You asked, with your back straightened - inches away from his hand now hanging on your chair.
"In a bit…" he says, "Just..." his voice trails off as his eyes scan over your visage, likely assessing it like an unseen tapestry. The truth is, Riddle did not know you prior to being forced under your tutelage. His droopy brown eyes appeared even more so as he broke the distance between you two and studied you closer. A tense silence grew pregnant in the ancient classroom, and your resolve was beginning to slip. Only one thought inflated a puddle of anxiety in your stomach:
Could this be your first kiss? Is this what first kisses looked like? Could this be your very first brush of intimacy overall?
Your brain failed to rationalise and compartmentalise his attraction, but your heart pushed your head closer.
"Call me a big boy again..." He had whispered… which evidently led you here.
Your lesson had ended with your hand covered in his release and a breathless smirk painted across his face. "This goes without saying," he breathed out with a satisfied smirk, "But tell anyone about this, and you're dead."
Ever since that day, your tutoring has been but a veneer of something much more sinister. When you were thrusted into the light of day, Mattheo overlooked you as did lots of his Slytherin friends. Besides the occasional threat and vague insult, you mean nothing to him.
When you two are alone, however, as you are right now, he would enchant you into servitude, lightly pushing your head down while he kissed you silly until your knees were planted on the hardwood floor.
Mattheo briefly opens his eyes to peer down at you. It is then when you notice the fresh bruise dotting the side of his face, and his pillowy lips split by a small incursion. He had very clearly gotten into another fight..
“Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be a smart ass,” His words illicit a bubble of heat inside you.
Despite all this, you are clearly aware of the fact that you should not be enjoying this at all. Not one bit. For starters, you can feel the old wooden floors digging into the meat of your knees and the crisp winter chill is unkind to your scantily dressed state. Your shirt is unbuttoned because Mattheo was like a moth to a fucking flame when it came to your ample breasts and his hand is buried tightly in your kinky curls, forcing his cock even further down your throat. The very bones of Hogwarts seem to be in vehement protest of your blatant whorishness.
3 silver chains hang from his neck as he plants his other hand against the wall behind you, blocking your kneeling frame between both him and cold, hard stone. You crane your neck back, keeping a half lidded gaze on the jewelry that drives you feral with lust. You are content imagining that perhaps, when he is getting ready in the slytherin common rooms, he wears the silver for you. A fanciful thought but one that consistently has your intestines weaving themselves into knots.
That, paired with his striking, jet black blazer, which is discarded somewhere in the abandoned classroom, has you keening and fighting to take even more of him into your mouth. Perhaps you were peacocking a little - flatting your tongue so his cock slid seamlessly to the back of your throat while you fought to ignore the pain blossoming on your scalp. He had turned you from an inexperienced nun to something you're not quite ready to examine yet.
"You're finally putting this head of yours to good use…" Despite his feigned arrogance you're utterly delighted knowing that only you can bring Mattheo to such an utterly restless state. He does not really know what to do with himself.
Not when you took so much of him, so well.
You clench your toes.
Feeling himself get too close, Mattheo eases his cock fully out of your mouth, languidly stroking himself but still assuming a firm grip on your scalp. He is operating on that very specific plain of narcissism that was special to Mattheo. He is aware of your presence, physically, but his words are spoken into the open air, like you are an inanimate object. A glorified toy.
"Are all Ravenclaws as compliant as you are?”
You bring a crisp white sleeve up to your lips, wiping away the excess drool as you remain kneeled in front of him, knowing he has yet to finish.
"If you ever think of finding out," your voice is hoarse, "this will be the last time I offer you any free study sessions."
"Is money all you seek?" He attempts to feign composure, continuing to languidly stroke his cock. "How utterly greedy. I thought- fuck… - I thought you were far more philosophical than that"
You watch hungrily as Mattheo bites on his pillowy bottom lip. He is prolonging the release, taking his time as he usually did... "If you plan on edging yourself in my mouth instead of actually finishing the job, I do have other commitments to attend to-"
He ignores you... his brows furrowing and smoothening at odd intervals as he continues to touch himself while studying you.
"We may not be studying… but I still intend to pass Transfiguration, hope you're aware." He punctuates his sentence with an breathless laugh- it blossoms across his usually stoic visage, raising his buttercup cheekbones towards his smiling eyes.
As he talks, you examine his scars and feel the slow essence of admiration seep into the pit of your stomach. An arguably pathetic feat, given that your feelings will not ever be reciprocated.
Brewing inside you is the need to take care of him. You knew the rest of the student body viewed Mattheo as a glorified parasite. Something that is only capable of thinking within the capacity of its own means. Something that takes, and takes, and occasionally jokes around, and takes. But how could he know anything different? You suspected that his home life was built on the foundation of survival, on needing to be the loudest, and proudest, and worst of them all.
"What the fuck are you doing?" The sharpness of his words slice through your thoughts, bringing you back to yourself. Mattheo's gaze is placed firmly on something down below. Throughout his mindless tirade, your hand had taken to rubbing soft, comforting circles against the leg of his pants, quite literally on its own accord. Mattheo is bent over, head tilted as he watches you questioningly. Seconds stretch to a minute, and your stomach sinks as time passes.
Eventually, he dismisses you. He shakes his head. "Whatever," He says, tilting your head back and lining your mouth with the head of his cock once more. His visage darkens into a cruel sadistic grin. "Tell me you want me to come in your mouth."
Almost instinctively, you do as he orders and like clockwork, you swallow his cum, wondering if he knew how deeply and truly your words actually were. There was a moment, perhaps imagined, in which his fingers gripping your hair, melted to the side of your soft, supple cheek. It stays there for longer than necessary, leaving bits and pieces of your composure scattered in its wake.
Mattheo soon straightens his posture, stuffing his flaccid cock back into his pants before making himself as presentable to the student body as they know him to be (which admittedly is not a lot) And before he turns to walk away, he leaves you stranded on a glacier with his ice cold words cutting deep into your beating heart.
"Tell anyone about this-"
"And I'm dead," You interject, "I know."
And with that, you pull your ruffled collar over your lint-free school jersey and check your reflection to assess the damage Mattheo and his iron grip might have left. You needn't wait for an extension on the conversation because your job here was done, (pun so malevolently intended).
As far as Mattheo is concerned, you are an easy conduit to release his frustrations through because your unpopularity makes you so incredibly inconspicuous. You blend into any given crowd at any given moment, your name seldom reaching the heights of ridicule among his group because you are so unforgettable… There had been no reason to point out your flaws, not because you did not have any, but because you were simply invisible.
It is particularly strange to have any social interaction beyond the bounds of group projects and class discussions… so Harry Potter gifting you even a sliver of attention had been violently unorthodox. So unorthodox, in fact, you failed to look up from the weathered pages of your novel when his gentle voice wafted in your direction during a rare free period in Study of Ancient Runes. Your professor has been summoned quite promptly by the headmaster and has yet to return. The class has been in a state of havoc ever since.
"I don't know if you're aware of this but…" A deep shadow over the pages alerted you to his presence, "They both die at the end."
It was incredibly rare that Potter, who sat at the desk directly in front of you, ever felt the need to strike up conversation that was not purely academic. Gryffindors made use of Ravenclaws as often as Slytherins.
So naturally, you peer curiously up at him…
"Sorry?"
"Y-Your book. It's a muggle book, isn't it? I haven't seen anything with a cover like that around here. It's refreshing. Everything in the wizarding world is ancient and leatherbound." He mumbles as his index finger slides into the collar of his red quidditch jersey. He finds himself suddenly overcome by a wave of embarrassment even though there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about… he turns his chair slightly in your direction, his eyes darting to the door and the empty teacher's seat before meeting yours once more.
"'They Both Die At The End." He says, pointing towards the title.
"Oh…" You affirm, rocking your head back and forth, "You were making a joke?"
"No," Harry snickers before waving a large hand in dismissal, "Evidently, the only thing I 'made' was a complete and utter fool of myself."
You're not sure when it happens but you feel the lower half of your face melting into what you suspect is a smile. You can feel your shoulders relaxing and your novel lowering imperceptibly.
"Work on your delivery next time and maybe we'll be getting somewhere."
"Is that how it is!?" Harry asked, pleasantly surprised by your banter, "- I could've sworn I had a shred of dignity before the start of this conversation. Now I'm not quite sure where that went."
Mattheo's feet pass over the threshold as soon as the sound of your laughter rushes past him. It is almost charming in its familiarity but incredibly curious in its rarity. He can't recall ever seeing you with your head thrown back while the instinctive sound of amusement races through your throat. He does not know he's staring until Draco shoves past him, to get to their own seats in the front of the class.
His eyes remain on you as he makes his way to his desk, hoping, perhaps, that you would turn your head infinitesimally, in acknowledgment of his presence.
You do nothing of the sort, and it not only fills him with a weird sort of dissatisfaction but it bubbles into full blown vexation when he realises who is capturing your attention so viscerally.
Mattheo has never prided himself on his patience or tolerance.
Overthinking is something he consistently lives without.
Most of his actions were spurred from things he felt in the now, and he was really fucking uncomfortable with what was happening now.
His glances at the front of the class before finding you once more in the very back corner of the class. He notices that Harry is stationed in front of you but the seat beside you is completely deserted.
Did you not have friends?
And more importantly; how did he never notice until now?
What if…
Perhaps if he…
"You didn't let me know we were having a picnic," The sound of a chair scraping against the tiles had both you and Harry rallying into silence. Mattheo appears at your side, pushing the chair against yours so he, too, sits facing Potter - who suddenly appears incredibly uneasy. Gone is the comfortable atmosphere cooked by easy and amicable conversation. Mattheo injecting himself into your little bubble created a suddenly charged and suffocating atmosphere. You cannot keep your wide eyes off Mattheo as he lowers himself to his chair beside you with his legs spread as he slouches down, like he always does.
"Don't stop on my accord," He exclaims, completely oblivious to the fact that your professor might walk in at any minute. "What were we talking about?" Your heart wrestles in your chest as you see him turn to address you. His slouching puts him a level lower than you, but it does nothing to lessen his intimidation.
"Maybe I should ask, Potter?" Mattheo turns his attention to the front, "What were you lot talking about?" There is not a trace of friendliness present in Riddle's tone. In fact, it's the very opposite. Your nerves, swelling with anxiety, only escalate into full-on panic when you feel him place a large hand on your skirt under the table.
Harry's voice is low and his eyes are trained on the floor, "Books-"
"Books!" Mattheo cuts him off with sarcastic fervour, "How utterly fascinating!" The hyperbolic wonder in his tone is utterly rude and unbecoming, but you look down at your desk in blatant anger. Refusing to be a part of whatever this is.
"And tell me, Potter, how many books have you read so far?"
It is then that Riddle's once stationary hand begins the faintest trace of movement. He begins slow and tame, his callouses barely registering on the soft fabric until his fingers prod the lining of your skirt…
Your breath hitches in your throat.
Never had Mattheo ever displayed a desire to touch you. Not in the way he made you touch him. It was made explicitly clear that only he would benefit from your secret rendezvous' and so you were left to deal with your aching cunt alone, with the image of the face he made when he came, still burned into your mind. It had never been about you.
"A couple,'' says Harry, fighting to show this bully that he was unaffected by his intimidation. If only he knew that with every advance Mattheo's palm made, you were slipping farther and farther away.
"A couple books?" Asks Riddle for clarity. He remains lax and languid on the inside, but the nature of his wandering hand underneath the desk tells a new story.
He finally slips under your skirt.
His palm connects with the softness of your thighs and he seems utterly pleased by it. His hand is immediately restless to explore how far you would let him go. Which isn't very far.
Not at all.
If he thought he could suddenly touch you after myriad occasions of using you like a discarded toy… he had another thing coming.
The tips of Mattheo's fingers make gradually increasing strokes along your thigh until his fingers prod the stretch marks on your inner thigh. It is there when you stop him, clenching your legs together, blocking his hand from any further movement.
Mattheo's voice is strained as he says, "And you like reading, Potter?"
Sensing something brewing between the two of you - your withdrawn, hazy gaze, staring directly through the desk and Mattheo's overabundance in questions, has Harry reeling backwards.
"I asked you a question, Harry."
"I like reading."
"Good! That's really good!" Quite suddenly, Riddle tilts the ends of his half-moon nails into your thigh. His nails bite into your skin, forcing them to weaken and unclamp. Before you're even able to think, his palm is cupping your cunt through your panties- forcing an indecent yelp from your throat which you quickly (and very badly) disguise as a cough.
Mattheo is utterly pleased while he continues mindlessly stroking your cunt. Not for the purpose of any glorious stimulation. His hand is just there to show you (and perhaps maybe himself) that he has access to the most private part of you.
That thought alone has an unforeseen and sudden wave of lust coursing through his veins and surging straight to his hardened cock. He thinks of all the things he could have done to you but failed to do. He thinks about how, up until this point, he had ever been satisfied with using your mouth alone, not when he was denying himself the softness of your pussy all along.
He felt angry with himself, for being so fucking stupid, he is angry at Potter for seeing whatever it is he saw in you, way before he did and, possibly most harrowing of all is the fact that he is angry with you. And he can't help but be angry at you. How easily you whore yourself out to any and every man. If this thing with Potter had gone far enough, would you replace him? Had you even fucked Potter before?
You bite down on your lower lip as your head bows even further into your book. The words blend into one another, and all you can feel is a rise in temperature and Mattheo's suddenly restless fingers, pressing rudely against your clit - for the sole purpose of ripping an orgasm out of you right then and there, at the very back of an unsupervised classroom, with Harry Potter still very much a part of the conversation.
"You've got so many books to read in your lifetime," Says Mattheo. He sits up slowly, likely spurred on by the dampness seeping through your panties. "Don't cut your long life short by trying to entertain other people's girlfriends, yeah?" Gone are any traces of feigned friendliness. "Fucking Mudblood,"
Your skin feels like you are bathing in magma and you hope Potter could not see the slight tremor in your hand as you gripped the sides of your book with more force than necessary.
Mattheo's words… they have you shifting forward and widening your legs minutely. You crave for nothing more than to roll your hips in tandem with the circles he's pressing against your clit.
"Understood?"
Your orgasm is dangerously close, with the promise of sheer, disgusting shame and embarrassment if he continues. You feel Harry give you one final curious look, perhaps pleading for an interjection of denial at some point but you've taken to bouncing your knee under the table, hoping the vibrations might create enough friction to aid Mattheo's hands. He is keeping you trapped in a space of wanting. So much so, that this almost feels like a punishment.
Once Harry is turned back around and facing the front of the class, Mattheo lowers his lips to your ears. The damp smell of firewhiskey floods your nostril and you realise that he is completely drunk. In the second lesson of the day.
However, you're so completely stimulated, even the warmth of his breath as you fight the urge to hump into his hand like a lost little puppy until you make a mess all over his hand.
"You're such a fucking slut, you know that?" Your book drops to your desk - muffled by the sounds of the classroom cacophony. "You like being humiliated like this?" He asks, almost in complete awe. It takes everything in you not to moan outright.
"Fuck," You whisper to yourself, blinking your eyes shut, warding off the need but to no avail. His fingers are long and limber, and they have you nearly cumming right there, in front of your entire fucking class. Had it not been for your Professor's haphazard arrival into the class, and the swift removal of Mattheo's fingers from between your legs… you might truly have become the slut he labelled you as.
Instead of moving to his designated seat, Riddle raises his hand for the professor… the very same hand that has previously been in between your legs.
"Yes, Mr Riddle?" Asks the Professor, his voice as lacklustre as his appearance.
"May we be excused? We were excused by Professor Slughorn to assist him in-"
"Fine, fine," Says the professor with a wave of dismissal before turning his attention to the rest of the class. "The rest of you, open your textbooks to page 56."
Riddle's hand is clamped around your forearm, already leading you swiftly out the door in a long and wide stride. Had it been any other teacher at all, they might have recognized this for what it so clearly was.
"Here," you have barely made it fully into the boy's bathroom before Mattheo is stuffing his fingers down your throat, making you gag and yelp at the sudden intrusion. "Tell me how good you taste." He doesn't even bother to make sure you're truly left alone in the bathroom before pushing your front against the bathroom sink.
"Is that good?" His voice is as sweet as honey as he forces his fingers deeper down your throat, causing you to cough and gag around them.
Mattheo has half his sense to pull his wand from his back pocket, and without turning around, whispers "Colloportus," and the heavy doors snap shut.
You're supposed to be afraid because you've never seen him like this. Mattheo is always a ball of sarcastic energy between trysts, but it's usually an energy he can somewhat contain.
You don't know what to do with him, not when he's watching you choke on his fingers through the mirror, while his other hand fondles at your breasts and rips your bra down until your nipples are poking through your school shirt.
The figure in the mirror distorts as your eyes begin to water. Thick beads of tears grow pregnant at the ends of your eyes before rolling down the side of your face.
"My girl," Mattheo presses his face into your hair, breathing you in, pressing his body into your side. His hard cock in unmistakable through his school pants, "My messy little girl,"
You finally moan candidly while your fingers grip the countertops and your hips buck into nothingness. Your eyes plead with him in the mirror, hoping they relay how utterly useless with lust you have become. It would not take hard work to make you cum, you're sure one more flick against your material-clad nipples might send you over the edge.
"Fuck, why didn't I think of this sooner,"
This is all new, even for the two of you.
"Spread your legs." He commands, even though his feet are already kicking them apart.
"Come here," you break eye contact in the mirror to face the boy behind you. Mattheo removes his fingers sitting in your mouth, leaving a trail of sticky saliva in its wake before replacing it with a long and messy kiss- one that has his tongue forcing itself inside.
Mattheo weaponizes your distraction to reach around and slide your panties to the side with one hand while he rubs your soft nub with his other, spit-coated hand.
You break away from the kiss, neck craning back and mouth hanging open while your eyebrows dissolve into crescents. You cannot look away from him, as you hump his hand.
"You wanna cum?" You nod enthusiastically. "And what if I told you, you can't cum until I've fucked that little pussy of yours? Hm? What then?" His words have you mewling from the sheer pleasure they bring and your orgasm threatens to snap once more.
"Fuck," He hisses, feeling unable to remove his hand from your wet cunt but needing to, in order to undo his belt and pull his aching cock out. "Don't you dare fucking touch yourself," He says in a deadly quiet voice before bringing his hand up to your mouth. "Spit." You don't ever think of disobeying him, not when you're swimming so deeply in your subspace, not when he's the one to bring you here.
Mattheo collects every bit of saliva you offer him before coating his cock in the stuff.
Deciding not to waste anymore time, he does what his body is screaming for him to do: he bends you over the bathroom sink and pushes cock right through your slippery folds. It's tense and painful and your voice is hoarse from doing all that screaming but the sudden contact strokes a deeply sated part inside yourself. His curved and pretty cock rams your insides with reckless abandon, all while he delivers small slaps against your cheek. Riddle keeps a firm grip on your throat. His mouth is inches away from you while his hips rut into yours. His words are being delivered through clenched teeth.
"You think you're so fucking smart but you're just my little whore, arent you? A little whore thst fucks anything that gives her the slightest bit of attention?" It doesn't even register that Mattheo wrongfully suspects that there had been something between you and Harry but you keep your mouth shut. For all his indifference in the past, this is how you would make him pay.
"Oh~ fuck." His cock bruises your cervix, leaving him balls deep and feral inside you. "Fucking Potter?! You wanna give what's mine, to fucking Potter?!" His voice is utterly depraved and animalistic and it has your orgasm cresting.
He is panting, while he mumbles into your ear.
"What would Potter think? If he saw you like this? What would he think? Would he still want your slutty pussy knowing I've been inside it? Knowing that I've cum so deep inside you? Completely ruining you for anyone else, huh?"
"You…" The tears threaten to spill, "It's only ever been you, Mattheo -oh my god! I'm so fucking close!" You fight down tears as the lava begins to bubble at the pit of your stomach.
"S-Say it again. Tell me you want me!" He exclaims, "Tell me you fucking need me."
"Oh my God, Mattheo, I fucking need you." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts.
His voice wavers after your confession. His strokes became sloppy. His mind is flooded with the tightest of your cunt around his cock- how someone so smart could possibly ever say they need him. It has a flood of heat pooling at the base of his cock. "You're so fucking pretty… my pretty girl - my pretty whore," He nods to himself while his heavy cock finds purchase in a specific clump of sensitive tissue inside your cunt. It has you clamping your own mouth shut, your arms wavering while your back arches towards him, only allowing him better excess.
"I need you," You say once more, swallowing a ball of saliva as you nod towards him through the mirror, "I need you to cum inside me."
"Oh my fucking god," Mattheo's eyes soften in their desperstion, "M'gonna fucking breed pussy right here- fuck!" His grip on your throat grows tighter until you're wholeheartedly cut off from your air supply. You hump his cock until you feel it twitch inside you.
"Y-Youre making me cum, baby- fuck-" You feel his hot cum spurting inside your walls, triggering your own orgasm that has you gripping his cock like a vice.
"So… so pretty" His hips stutter against yours until you've completely drained him of his cum. A sharp tremor settles over your bones and you gasp in vague increments, waiting for the overwhelming state of euphoria to subside… but it never does.
The weight of what you had done comes crashing back down but you are unable to feel anything besides an immense wave of satisfaction at having your deepest need satiated.
"I think I nearly killed Potter today." His voice is a hoarse echo within the school bathrooms.
"There is no Harry Potter," You say, watching him through the mirror, "In my whole world, there is only ever you, Mattheo."
And a part of him believes you, but he refuses to affirm something as emotionally stifling as that. Instead, Mattheo's eyes flutter shut as his nose finds your hair once more. His cock is still buried inside you, and you hiss as he moves his hips slowly, almost insitinvely. He loves being so wholly enveloped by you. He loves feeling you everywhere.
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slutofpsh · 4 months
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f1 racer | psh
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part two
pairings: park sunghoon
synopsis: f1 racer park sunghoon is the ace of their team until he got into a terrible accident causing of his sudden hiatus. the incident injured his shoulder and affected his mental health. you are hired by his mother to help him get through this tough times as you are one of the best psychiatrist in town. he hated the idea of being vulnerable so instinctively, he hates you. he hates how you try to get into his head for him to open up and he hates his parents for meddling with his life like he’s a kid. but he couldn’t deny that you are exceptionally beautiful and he can’t help his cock from twitching just by imagining pushing you down on your office table, fucking you deep and hard until you can’t think straight anymore.
wc: 15k
warnings: mdni. smut with slight plot, lots of dirty talking, degrading, corruption kink, p into v raw (please always use protection), dom sunghoon, slight rough sex, reader experiencing sexual harassment. IF YOU DON’T LIKE ANY OF THIS PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL AWAY.
note: i have no right and enough knowledge with medical terms so disregard my claims as it came from my imagination to fit my plot. i’m new with writing smuts so please don’t give rude comments. i am still learning. also please send me asks and reblog my work. it will help a lot. thank you so much!
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
After how Sunghoon dismissed you, you didn’t expect him to reach out first. You can still remember the bitter feeling that poisoned your whole system while you’re taking a bath that day. The pain between your legs was incomparable from how your heart was aching that time.
His cold tone and how he asked you to leave right after kept flashing back to your mind. It was such an awful experience. A part of you gets pissed at him for acting like a jerk after taking your v card, but you also know that maybe you caught him off-guard as well. Besides, it was your decision to give yourself to him that day.
It’s honestly making you feel frustrated. Were you crossing the line when you suddenly asked that question? Now you are certain that his ex-girlfriend has something to do with it. Your chest tightens just by thinking about it. He’s still very affected by her. There’s a big possibility that he still have feelings for her.
You threw your head back and stared at your ceiling. This isn’t how it suppose to be. You should be focusing on your work and not worrying about an F1 racer who probably don’t give a care about you.
The wall clock caught your eye and suddenly realized that it will soon be his session for today. Since its wednesday, he will be the one coming at your office. It makes you hopeful and you’re already rehearsing what to tell him the moment he walks in.
You wanted to apologize for suddenly dropping that question out of nowhere without even considering if he’s mentally prepared for it.
Your thoughts are interrupted when your phone chimed.
Sunghoon: I won’t be coming today.
Oh.
Your mind went blank right after receiving that message. All the words you tried to compose and prepare the moment you come face to face with him became useless. You can’t help but to feel a little disappointed and upset about it. He’s obviously trying to avoid you and it hurts just by thinking about it.
The amount of efforts and time you exerted just to be close with him seems to be put into waste when he’s pushing you away like this.
Was it really about the professional reason why you’re hurting? Or was it your heart cracking because of him? Eitherway, you don’t like the feeling of it.
Since Sunghoon is the last patient scheduled for today, you informed your secretary that he’s not coming. Although a little confused, she asked if you need something else or if there’s any patients left that you’re expecting to arrive.
You told her that she can wrap up and go home early today as that’s what you’re about to do. This thing going on between you and the f1 racer sure is draining all of you. You just want to be inside a bathtub, soaked in hot water and having a bottle of wine.
Yeah, that’s right. That could totally help with your mood.
A knock from your office door snapped you back to reality. It slowly opened revealing Hana whose now flashing you a small smile. It didn’t slipped from your friend how you’ve been gloomy these days. She took notice how you’re not mentioning the famous f1 racer as well, assuming that he has something to do with your foul mood.
“Hi,” she greets and you tried so hard to flash her a smile.
“Hello. I thought your sessions are done already? What are you doing here?”
She pursed her lips and walked inside. “I was thinking if you’d want to spend time with me? Your secretary said you’re out early today.”
Your eyes almost watered because of what she said. Hana completely understands you despite your resistance of oversharing informations regarding Park Sunghoon. She understands how you're always been a little private with your personal life.
As a friend, all she can do for you is accompany you whenever you need someone to be there by your side.
The two of you planned to stay in her expensive crib that she’s very proud of. Actually, you really like her apartment since its very pretty and cozy. There’s some vibes in it that you cannot explain.
After stopping to get some snacks, you head over her place. She was continuously talking about this one hot client of her. Obviously, she likes him but gets defensive that she just really finds him hot.
“So...” your head snaps at her direction when she suddenly halt her words like as if she’s waiting for you to look.
You got lost in time and have no idea for how long have you two been sitting outside her balcony talking about random things.
“Hmm?” you hummed, asking her what she wants to say.
She bit her lower lip, contemplating whether to go for it or stop being nosy. After ending the debate with her inner self, she sighs heavily and sets down her glass of wine to fully focus on you.
“What’s up with the F1 racer? He skipped today. That’s new.” she finally dropped the bomb.
You were kind of expecting it, but to actually be asked about it still caught you dumbfounded. You don’t know the exact words to use in order to explain what happened on your last session.
Surely you cannot mention what the director did to you and you’re too embarrassed to tell her he just pop your cherry.
“Maybe he just don’t feel like seeing me today.” the pain in your eyes didn’t slip from her. Hana may not always hear you rant things towards her, but she knew whenever you’re not okay.
She pursed her lips and reaches for your free hand to hold it. “When did he ever feel that way? As far as I remember, Park Sunghoon is totally so into you.” and even winked at you to make you feel better or at least laugh.
“I think I made him mad.” tears fills your eyes to the brim that made her go slightly alarmed.
“Why? What happened?” she gently grabs the glass of wine from you to avoid spilling any of its content.
“I asked him about his ex and after that he started acting cold. Maybe...” your words halt and emotions oozes from your eyes. Hana can see how worried and scared you are by your own thoughts. She felt so bad.
“...maybe he still loves her? What about me, then? What am I to him, Hana?” and tears started to flow out from your eyes, your cries filled his balcony as she tugs you closer to her.
Hana never saw you like this. Crying over something. You always have a strong impression towards her. The type of person who handle things like a boss. Very workaholic and once you set your focus onto something, you will, in no doubt, get it.
And so to see you like this caught her off-guard. She doesn’t know what to do or how to properly comfort you, but of course she tried. She caress your arms as she embraces you, calming you down. She lets you have your moment to let it all out as she assumed you’ve been keeping it in.
“I t-think I fell in love with him, Hana. And I’m so scared because I’ve never felt this way and to think he still loves...” you couldn’t finish your own words as you started crying hard. Hana shakes her head side by side in disapproval, eyes starting to water as well.
“I’m sure he doesn’t love her anymore, y/n. Don’t think it that way, okay?” she cupped your face to make you look at her eyes.
“Just give him time to process his own emotions. He went over through hard times that makes it a little harder for him to decide about things, yeah? Maybe you just caught him off-guard as well.”
Your lips pursed into a pout and realized she had a point. Sunghoon’s going through something. Your priority should be to make him feel better and not confront him about his feelings for you.
You nodded your head and slowly rest your head at her shoulder, cuddling closer. She wraps her arms around your shoulder to pull you closer to her body. She sighs and you felt so much better letting your worries out. Like a big chunk of emotions been lifted off from your chest that made your breathing more stable, your way of thinking became much better as well.
Like what Hana said, you gave him time to settle his own thoughts. Thursday came and you didn’t bothered sending a text message for him as well. You tried hard to divert your attention towards some other things. Thankfully, you’ve managed to do that.
Friday came and you’re very much nervous to go on your day. It was suppose to be your day off from the hospital and Sunghoon’s the only client you have for the day but Hana called you early in the morning.
“Can you please take over my session this morning? It will be just quick I promise! It slipped off from my mind that I have that scheduled today and I already booked my flight to Hawaii.”
Your brows furrowed as you put your coffee to the machine, one hand resting at your hip.
“Hawaii? Suddenly? Why haven’t I heard about this plan?”
Of course you can fill her spot for today. You’ve done it for other people before, there’s no reason for you to decline her offer as well.
She giggles, “I didn’t invite you because I know you won’t come anyway since you’re saving up! This is so sudden too! My mom asked me to tag along their trip and since the director will be out of the country for almost two months, I figured I should go to a vacation as much as I can!”
This time you’re even more intrigued of what you heard. You leaned over the kitchen counter and lift your hand to nibble on your nails.
“T-The director will be gone for almost two months?” you asked, baffled.
“Yes! Haven’t you heard about it? Anyway, you should get more rest now that he’s not around! I know how much you want to earn more, but please have some fun as well. We’ll plan a trip for the two of us once I’m back!” she kept going on that slowly became muffled by your own thoughts.
The amount of relief that dawned you after hearing the news of the director being not around was being overwhelming for you. To think that you don’t have to feel anxious of bumping over that monster relieved you.
“I will buy you something from her as a thank you gift of taking over this client for me!” Hana snapped you back to reality.
You giggled and glanced over the machine when it made a sound, indicating that your coffee is now ready.
“Okay, have fun with your mom.” and then the two of you decided to end the call.
After you get ready for your day, you drove straight to the hospital and met with Hana’s client. Like she said it was just a short consultation and nothing heavy. An hour and a half passes by so fast. Your secretary ringed your intercom to let you know its over.
You guided the client out to the door and tell her she did well for today. She seemed very satisfied with your session and thanked you. A smile is what you responded her before bidding goodbyes with her.
Now, you started preparing yourself to leave and go straight to Sunghoon’s place. Your heart started thumping just by the thought of that man. He didn’t send any messages yet that tells you not to come so you’re somehow hoping he’s expecting to meet you today. I mean, he cannot avoid you forever right?
Eitherway, you already set your mind to go and check him yourself. You wanted to convince yourself that you just want to do your job properly, but you know that you’re doing that fot personal reasons. That you want to come and see him because you missed him so bad.
You heard your office door opens that slightly made you jolt. Thinking it was your secretary, you didn’t bother to look over and check. You just continued fixing your things so you can leave.
“You can leave after I finish here, (name). That’s the only client I’ll be meeting here on the office for today since I will go to the Parks to meet with Mr. Park Sunghoon.” you tried to inform her.
You heard the door closed so you assumed she’s inside. Finding it odd not receiving any responses from her, you decided to turn around to look and you almost drop your car keys at the sight of Park Sunghoon by the door.
He looked so good as usual. His slightly long hair brushed perfectly as he rocks his semi formal attire, one hand inside his pocket. He stares right at your eyes that made your knees instantly weak.
“M-Mr. Park.” you stutter.
He pursed his lips and sighs heavily. He may seem like he’s calm, but Sunghoon’s very nervous right now. He took all of his courage to come here and see you. He knew what he did last time was wrong and he can’t find the will to meet you. Not after treating you that bad. He figured you may hate him now. But damn, he misses you so much. He missed you so bad that he might go crazy if he didn’t come and see you.
He didn’t say anything and started walked towards your direction. You held on your table for support as you can feel your knees getting even weaker as he approach closer. Seeing him again after days of being away from each other just made it even more emotional.
“W-What are you doing here? I was just about to go and meet you—” your words cut as he clash his lips on your shaking lips. He placed his hands on your hips, making sure you won’t fell.
You moaned, eyes getting teary of being overwhelmed. You felt his kisses, his touch and his warmth.
After the heated kiss and when he realized you two needed air, he pulls away. He kept his eyes straight at yours, letting your foreheads touch each other.
“I’m sorry for how I acted the last time. It was such a jerk move.” he whispered sincerely that tugs your heart.
You pout and raised your arms to wrap it over his neck.
“It’s fine. I understand that maybe I went overboard. I shouldn’t have let my personal emotions take over me.”
He licked his lips, taking a short glance at your slightly swollen lips. He was tempted once again after having a taste of something he’s been craving for a while. He sighs, calming himself down. This isn’t about him.
“Let me make it up to you.” and he leans even closer, tugging your body closer to his. His lips dangerously inches away from yours.
A small smile spreads across your face.
“You don’t have to, Hoon.”
He leans and placed a peck on your lips. “I want to. Will you let me take you out on a date tonight?”
Your mouth gapped in surprise. “A date?” you repeat his words, bewildered.
He nods his head, trapping his lower lip over his teeth. Sunghoon pressed his body towards you that made you giggle.
“But we already skipped two of our sessions.” you reminded him. As expected, he seemed totally unbothered.
“Then this will be the third time.” he smirks and arched his brow. “Please?”
You stared straight to his eyes and eventually surrenders.
“Okay.” you agreed that made him smile wider.
“Thank you.” he says and leans for another kiss. You giggled returning his affection and letting yourself be drowned by his kisses. His hand playfully roams around your whole body like claiming his territory.
“I have something for you.” he mumbles after leaning away. You can see how his eyes are starting to be clouded by lust and longing.
It stirs excitement inside you. Just having him this close again and staring at you this way makes your core hot and wet. The way he affects you is crazy. Its even crazier because you know he’s the only one that can make you feel this way.
“What is it?”
A mischievous grin spread across his handsome face before he lets one of his hand go from your hips to slid inside his pocket. Your eyes looked curiously to what he’s trying to get.
He fished out something and you can see its color pink. Your brows furrowed in confusion as to what is that thing. It seems soft and like a toy. Your hand unclasped from him to try and hold the thing he was holding.
“What’s that?” you asked too innocently that made Sunghoon almost go feral. Just the genuine look of innocence in your eyes were enough to make him lose his mind. He thought that during the times he was with you and with all the things you two had done together, he might have corrupted you enough.
But it seems like he was wrong. He hasn’t corrupted you enough for you to know that what he’s holding right now is a small vibrator.
He gulped, trying to calm himself and his dick.
“A vibrator.” he announced that made you instantly blush.
“W-What...” you are unable to ask further question as he moved quickly to carry you and make you sit at your office table.
“Hoon, wait what are you gonna do?”
He smiles, “We’re going to have some fun, baby.” and he placed a kiss at your cheeks.
His hand reaches for your thighs and he spread it enough. You’re about to protest and ask more, but he quickly kisses you to distract you from what he’s about to do. His hand made its way inside your skirt and searches for your underwear.
You moaned and tried to pull away, but his lips just chases yours. He eventually managed to take off your underwear, his bare fingers touching your wet core.
“Ugh,” you moaned sensually.
“Already so wet for me?” he smirks so proudly that made you feel so flushed.
He raised his other hand that was holding the vibrator and placed it near your mouth.
“Coat it with your saliva, baby. So it will go in smoothly.” he instructed, eyes flickering with so much excitement.
You obliges and opens your mouth. Sunghoon stares as he dips the vibrator inside your mouth, your tongue twirling around to make sure every part is fully coated of your sweet saliva.
“Fuck, you look so hot.” he mumbles and pressed his lips at your cheeks before gently pulling it out from your lips, making an unintentional ‘plop’ sound.
Your heads stared down while he placed it at your entrance. It was wet and full of your juice already so it slid easier. You kind of felt the stretch but it was a good one. The kind you’ve missed for a while.
“How does that feel?” he asks carefully as he lifts his gaze to look at your half-lidded eyes.
You gulped, salivating a bit due to pleasure of having something inside you.
“G-Good.”
He nods and grabs this one small device. Your mind is pretty clouded and occupied by that small toy inside of you that you didn’t realized that in order for it to be called vibrator, it needs to vibrate. And that will only happen using that controller Sunghoon’s holding at the moment.
“Okay, let’s start it with the mildest intensity.” he says softly near your ears and pressed something.
You jolt at the sensation it was giving you, a hand grabbing him by his arm. “Oh my gosh,” you mumbled surprised.
He chuckles, “How does that feel, pretty? Much better?”
He leans his forehead to yours as you nod your head slowly. It was a foreign feeling, but it was good. Really really good.
“I think we can put it higher.” he didn’t even wait for what you’re opinion about it and raises the intensity making you open your mouth. Your eyes shut abruptly and the grip over his arms tightened.
“W-Wait, this is too much...” you mumbles feeling everything in you just vibrates and shaking along with this small device.
Your mind are slowly becoming blank and filled with nothing but lust. The vibration is so perfect and the way Sunghoon showers you with kisses makes it even better. He kisses, sucks your skin and sometimes bite you using his canine teeth, making sure he mark you pretty well.
“I’m c-coming,” your words snapped Sunghoon out from his trance as he pulls away and manipulated the controller to make it feel better for you.
As you came, your body loses it strength but thankfully Sunghoon was there to support you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He placed a kiss on your shoulder then at your temple, whispering praises.
“You did so well for me, baby.” he kisses you again at your lips then flashes you a sweet smile.
You smiled and leaned to give him a kiss too. You’re still high from your orgasm that you couldn’t say anything to him. After he pulls away, your eyes watch how he slid your underwear inside his pocket. His eyes are darted at yours when you lift your gaze up to look at him.
He smirks shamelessly, unbothered that he was caught red handed of pocketing your underwear without consent.
“Hey, I can’t go eat dinner without it.” you pout.
He chuckles, “Oh, you can do it. Besides you have that inside you to keep your cum inside.” he smirks that made your eyes grow big.
“What do you mean?”
He fixes your hair, “Am I going to have this inside me while we eat outside?”
He smirks, already giving you the answer.
“Yes. We’re going to have so much fun tonight.” and with that you are left with no choice but to go out on a date with a freaking vibrator inside of you.
You don’t know how exactly you look, but you bet it was awkward. The way you kept moving around, squirming out of discomfort is quite noticeable. You’re inside the elevator and thankfully it was just the two of you heading down at the underground parking lot of the hospital.
Sunghoon chuckles and held your hips tighter, holding your position.
“Stop moving around.”
You grunted, “It feels uncomfy. I feel like my cum will drip out from it.”
He leaned down, lips touching your ears as he whispers, “I bet not. Your pussy is so tight it left no gap for the vibrator.” his raspy voice rings through your ears that made you shiver.
When you arrived at the parking lot, Sunghoon guided you somewhere. It was a black rang rover and a man went out from it then wait patiently until you two came near the vehicle.
You gave him an awkward smile as you still feel bothered by that thing you’ve been keeping between your legs. He bows slightly.
“Let’s go to the restaurant.” Sunghoon says firmly and opened the door for you.
So this is his driver. You’ve been informed by his parents that ever since the incident, he refused to drive. Whenever he have to go see you at your office during wednesdays, he have his own driver to accompany him.
Sunghoon sat beside you and tugs you closer to him while his driver started driving. You felt conscious now that you have another person around you, but it doesn’t seem like the same way for him. Since his touches became more bold.
You gave him a warning look and held his wrist tightly to prevent his hand from entering your skirt completely. His hand was just chilling at your thigh a while ago, and now its slowly moving upwards.
“I just want to check if its still there.” he reasoned out with a grin on his face.
You rolled your eyes at him, “Like it can get out by itself, huh? Of course its still there.” you tried hard to whisper so his driver won’t hear any of this wild things you two had been doing.
He pouts mockingly, “I want to check it myself.” and tugs his arm away to unclasp your hold before he dips his hand further inside your skirt.
You pressed your lips together to prevent any moans from coming out and just lets him do what he wants. This is why you think its dangerous for you to hang around Park Sunghoon often. Because you are too weak for him and you always ends up letting him have his way.
When his fingers touch your core, he graze it gently on your slit and smirk grew wider at the feeling of your cunt being filled. He pulls right after plopping his slightly wet digits inside his mouth to lick it clean. He does all of that while staring shamelessly to your eyes.
The drive towards the restaurant was surprisingly short or he just really kept you occupied the whole ride. It was a fine dinning and thankfully, you dressed pretty appropriately for its aura.
The two of you entered while holding each others hands. Just by the entrance, you can see heads whips towards your direction probably intrigued to see the famous F1 racer out in the open once again. Not to mention that he’s being accompanied by someone unfamiliar to the public.
It made you conscious and a little bit anxious. The feeling of the vibrator inside you isn’t helping as well. Sunghoon did turn it off as you begged him to as you get off from the vehicle. He said that he will allow it only because you behaved and asked nicely.
“Reservation under my name.” Sunghoon tugs you closer to him, hand resting over your waist.
Sunghoon hates the attention he’s having the moment he step foot inside this place, but he thinks he hates the attention that you are gathering even more. More than once he caught a male looking at you like a hungry animal. He fucking hates it. How dare them look at you for more than five seconds? You are his to look at, to admire, to kiss, to claim and to fuck.
“This way, Sir.” the waiter smiles and guidee you inside.
The whole ambiance of the place was romantic and classy. The type of restaurants you see in movies where the people dressed extra nicely to fit the vibe of the place. It was just perfect, if only that thing was not making you feel uncomfy.
Sunghoon beats the waiter to pull a chair for you and you smiled at him. He kissed your hand before sitting at the chair across. He smirks while watching you trying to get comfortable on your seat.
“You good, baby?” he asks meaningfully as the waiter comes back for the menu, handing one each to the two of you.
“Y-Yeah,” and glared at him slightly before trying to look over the food they’re serving.
You’re just in the middle of trying to find something you like to eat when you jolt in surprise. Your eyes instantly darted at Sunghoon, glaring at him. He’s eyes are fixed on the menu while a big evil grin occupies his sexy lips.
He just turned the vibrator on, catching you off-guard and jolt on your seat. The waiter took notice of your sudden discomfort.
“Are you okay, Ma’am?” he asked, very worried.
You flash him a quick smile and pursed your lips tightly right after as the intensity gets higher.
“I’m fine— Ugh,” you groaned and lowered your head in embarrassment. You pressed your legs together, but it just became more intense that way.
“Are you sure? We can—”
“She said she’s fine.” Sunghoon’s strict tone interrups the waiter’s concerned remarks. You glanced at him and you can see him shooting glares at him.
You bit your lower lip and tried hard to control your body from shaking obviously. Its making your head fuzzy and the pleasure clouding your mind. Sunghoon clicks his tongue and proceeds on saying his order.
As he pressed the controlled on its max intensity, the satisfied grin spreads across his face seeing how you reacts. Just seeing how hard you try to control your expression and actions to not fully give into pleasure makes him slightly proud. He kind of wants you to make a mess tho, he’s not going to lie.
“I will order for her too. Is that all right, baby?” he even reaches for your hand that was resting by the table.
You nod your head eagerly, trying to focus on reaching yet another delicious orgasm. Right at this moment, you don’t care if the waiter notices how your legs are shaking or your face too flush from pleasure. All you can think of is to cum hard right there and then.
After the waiter gets your order, he excuses himself and informed you that your order will be ready after ten minutes. The moment he turns around to leave, your legs shakes reaching your climax.
Sunghoon smirks as he watch you slowly going back to your right mind space. With glares shooting straight at him you grit your teeth.
“Why w-would you do that?!”
He smirks, totally not regretful.
“I hate it when men flocks to impress you.”
You furrowed your brows hardly, still high from the orgasm you just had.
“He was just doing his job.”
He tilts his head, unimpressed. “Well I am just doing mine too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Marking what’s mine.” he said that seriously that it made you blush so hard.
Your heart thumped faster and harder that you almost got scared that it will come out from your ribcage. These are his actions that made you confuse if he have feelings for you or not. He’s not saying anything.
He asked something else afterwards to maybe ease the atmosphere. He’s still the Sunghoon who loves to tease you which somehow comforts you. Last time you’ve seen him, you asked him something personal and you got scared it made him cave in his shell once again.
Like what the waiter said, the food will be available after ten minutes. They served it and you two continued eating and talking. It was fun and you cannot believe you are having a date with Park Sunghoon.
You’re just worrying and overthinking about him last Wednesday night. You sure cannot predict what’s about to happen.
After your perfect meal, you’re trying to enjoy the dessert that he ordered for you when naughty Sunghoon once again tries to attack. Your head shakes side by side to stop him, but he was already grinning at you.
He pressed the controller making you jolt.
“H-Hoon,” you moaned.
“Yes, baby?” concern and teasing plays through his tone.
You pursed your lips. “Enough p-please.”
He pout his pinkish lips, “How can I stop when you look so good like that? Such a slut for me.” he says licking his lips while grinning widely.
The sensual look on your face and the way you fight it just so nobody notices turns him on. You’ve always been innocent in Sunghoon’s eyes. An angel. He’s like a very bad wolf trying to prey on you. To corrupt and make you his slut.
Sunghoon palms his dick as it slowly grow harder inside his trousers. He just couldn’t get enough of you.
“N-No...” you whimpered and lowered your head when he pressed it again to rise the intensity.
The pleasure is making you lose your mind. Sunghoon’s already lost his moments ago as he continue palming his erect friend down there.
“Just one more, baby. Cum for me one last time.” he says softly and you gulped.
The way he talks you through it is what’s dangerous. You can never say no to his sweet tone. It’s like it has its own way towards you that convinces and automatically hypnotize you to oblige to his words.
“B-But I c-can’t anymore.”
“Of course you can.” and he even reach for your hand to place a warm kiss on top of it.
He put it at max and you shut your eyes to prevent people from seeing how it rolled at the back of your head. Everything starts to be blurry and to spin.
“I-I’m close...” you mumbles, biting your lip hardly.
Sunghoon licks his lips, “That’s it...” he grabbed your hand and watch carefully while you surrendered yourself into pleasure.
“Hmph,” and another delicious orgasm unfolds.
“Let’s go,” Sunghoon stood up from his sit and approach you. He carefully helps you to stand up. Some customers looked at your direction, but you’re still too high from your previous climax to give care.
“Is she okay?” one waiter approaches after noticing that it seems like you are unwell.
“She’s fine. I just need to get her to the bathroom.” Sunghoon says and excused the both of you.
One waiter guides you two inside a bathroom. She asked if you needed anything more but Sunghoon dismissed her and told her that you just needed space to breath.
The moment she left, he went over the door and locked it. He pushed you over one of the counters, hold you by the hips and easily lifts you up. He made you sit down.
“W-What...” you licked your lips, unable to properly say anything.
He smirks, “You did so well for me, baby. So so good.” he mumbles and spreads your legs and placed a kiss at your forehead once.
His hand reaches for your core and carefully removes the vibrator inside.
“Ugh,” you moaned and groaned a bit at the feeling of that thing being removed from inside you.
Sunghoon take it to his lips and licked all of your juices out from it. It was so sweet, something he missed for days.
“Fuck, I need to have you. Right now.” he announced that made you flutter your eyes slightly open.
With the small gap, you saw him unzipping his pants that made your anticipation rise. Although totally worn out from the multiple orgasms he already gave you from that toy, the thought of having him for yourself excites you the most.
“P-Please.” you begged, gripping over his clothes.
“Please what, pretty?”
You lift your gaze and stared straight to his lustful eyes. It was dark and you can see how dangerous he is. The amount of lust he has for you was unmeasurable. Sunghoon never felt this way towards someone before.
“Please fuck me.”
Sunghoon’s eyes turned darker and dipped his head down to connect his hot lips on yours. He bit your lip to crack an entrance for his tongue to enter your delicious mouth. Your sweet taste overwhelms him and he started to get addicted.
He pressed his body towards you as he carefully pulls out his erect member. He strokes it a couple of times before placing it on your wet entrance. You whimper at the feeling of his hot dick grazing the line of your cunt.
It sent unexplainable pleasure that the two of you sure enjoys at the very moment. Something you two won’t get tired of.
“So fucking beautiful.” he mumbles on your lips and continues giving you messy kisses.
“So beautiful and only for me.” he growled as he slid his cock inside of you.
One hard thrust and he’s all in. Your eyes flutters open, mouth hanging open at the unexpected stretch. The vibrator and couple orgasms sure prepared you, but not enough to feel a slight sting. Sunghoon’s dick is so big for your small cunt.
“Fuck.” he cursed, feeling his dick suffocating inside of you.
“H-Hoon,” you whisper.
“I know baby. Hold on.” and he started to move, thrusting in and out of you. It was so good. The pleasure was too much.
He showed no mercy in using and abusing your pussy as he rutt his cock inside you so hard. He grunts and groaned at the pleasure of having your body this close. He glanced at your privates and just thought how they perfectly fit each other.
“You are mine. You hear me?” he grunts as he continued rocking harder. His thrusts became deeper and faster, fucking you into oblivion.
“Answer me!” he groaned and bit your shoulder when he received no response from you.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes what?” he stared at you.
“Yes, I am yours.” you mumbled near his lips and he smiled widely before kissing you.
His hips started rutting even harder as both of your climax approaches. The two of you became a mess trying to catch that orgasm you’ve been yearning to have together. A couple of hard thrusts and dirty talking and you exploded first before him.
You throw your head back, eyes shut as you started to see stars fromtl too much pleasure. Sunghoon catches his breath and kissed your collarbones before slowly pulling out his member.
He watch how your mixed cum drips out from your hole. He smiles and use two of his fingers to push them back inside, making you jolt a little.
“Sorry, baby. I don’t want to waste it.”
The two of you tried to make yourself look much more presentable. You’ve been glaring at him through his reflection in the mirror in front of you and he’s been grinning all the time. He looked so hot and handsome, you hate it.
“You look so pretty.” he compliments.
Despite the blushing cheeks you rolled your eyes and twist to face him. You crossed your arms at him and stared. He smirks and put his hands inside his pockets.
“Don’t you think that was too much?” you fired him. He arched his brow, acting innocent about it.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
You clicked your tongue, “I bet they knew what was going on! Its so embarrassing.” you pout.
He chuckled and walks closer placing his large hands at your sides.
“I’m sure they don’t mind. Let’s go?”
“Where?” you looked at him with so much suspicion in your eyes.
“Why are you looking at me that way?”
“The last time you said that you led me here.”
He barked a laughter before kissing your cheeks once. He started guiding you out from that bathroom. Surprisingly, nobody took it as a big deal. Some of them looked genuinely worried of you, but once Sunghoon said that you’re just a little sick they let it go and wish you to feel well soon.
While he was paying for the your meals, you roamed your eyes around and by the entrance someone caught you attention. A familiar elegant girl walks inside with yet another familiar face.
They walked closer and when her eyes darted at your direction, it slightly grew.
“Sunghoon?” she calls softly.
Your head craned to look at Sunghoon and you saw how he stiffened. His hand halted from reaching over his black card he used to pay for their service.
He slowly turned to face the girl and the look on his face is not good. He jaw clenches as he looked at the two people standing a few feet away from you.
As you glance back at that girl, you realized she was the same girl you’ve seen at the elevator. The one who looked dreadful. The other one beside her is familiar as well. If you can remember it right, he’s one of Sunghoon’s team-mates.
“How have you been? I’ve been trying to call you, but they said you are refusing my calls.” she seemed agitated while Sunghoon remained his distant.
A little confused to what is happening, you took notice of his obvious discomfort by their presense. His body language is showing you that he doesn’t want to be here in front of them so you quickly stepped in.
“Hey, done paying?” you asked gently and grabbed his hand. It was cold, sweaty.
Their eyes then darted at your direction. The expression on that girl’s face drastically changed. Her eyes looked at you with so much judgement, raking it up and down.
Sunghoon finally took in a breath after feeling you beside him. He glances at you and seeing how you looked at him with so much care, calms him down. He nods and pursed his lips. You can still feel his hands shaking a little. He’s having a panic attack.
You faced them and smiled, “Hello, I’m y/n. I’m sorry, but Sunghoon and I have to go. I hope to see you guys around some other time.” and with that, you bowed politely before starting to guide him out.
Sunghoon manages to walk well, but you can still see that he’s in panic. When you arrived in front of his vehicle, his driver assisted you to get him inside. You asked him to give you two some space.
You cupped his face after giving him some water.
“Hey, calm down. Breath in,” you gently instructs and caress his arms. “breath out...”
He looked at your eyes and carefully follows them. He can feel his chest tightening for unknown reasons. His fist felt numb and her mind starts to lose focus. You, on the other hand understands that he’s having an anxiety. For what exact reason, you don’t know. But what you’re sure of is whoever those two are, they triggered something in him.
“Baby, I’m here. Just breath. I am here for you. Look at me.” you mumbles and held his hand to place it on your face.
He felt your warmth and his eyes slowly focused on you. He can now clearly see your beautiful face despite the slight darkness inside the vehicle. He felt his heart thumped faster, but this time in a different matter. You made him feel safe and calm.
“I’m s-sorry.” he whispers and your heart cracks at the sight of him.
It was almost like he’s not Sunghoon. He looked so fragile. A part of you felt relieved that he finally shown you this side of him, but your heart couldn’t take it.
You tugs him closer and he gave in. He wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzle closer, enjoying your warmth.
“She’s Natasha.” he mumbles.
Your brows furrowed and realized that he was probably referring to the girl from a while ago. You kept your mouth shut, doesn’t want to ask something that can ruin it again.
“My ex girlfriend.”
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You guided Sunghoon inside his house once you two arrived. After he revealed that it was his ex-girlfriend from that restaurant, you don’t know what to feel. Just by thinking of how he reacted, it made you feel things. It made you overthink once again.
“Y/n...” you snapped back to reality when you heard him call you softly.
You craned your head and looked at him laying on his bed. He’s looking at you with slight worry and fear.
“Yes?”
“Please stay with me.”
He never, in the whole duration that you two had been in this set up, he had never asked you to stay. You felt your heart races, hope ignites inside your chest.
Slowly, you strut closer to his bed and he opens his blanket to then scooted away to give you enough space. When you lay down, he pulls you closer to cuddle you.
“Stay for tonight.” he begged.
You sighed and slid your arms over his waist after placing a kiss on his chest. “Okay.”
The two of you fell silent. You’re just caressing his back gently and you have no clue if he’s already asleep or what. All you can think of is how messed up it is to meet his ex girlfriend that way. You’re starting to overthink how he still feels for her or where you stand in his life at the moment.
“That night of the accident...” your hand halts from caressing his back and slowly you pulls away to look at him.
“You don’t have to if you aren’t ready yet.” you gave him an assuring smile.
He looked at you straight in your eyes and leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“I want to.” he says firmly.
You gave him a nod and rests your head on his chest once again. You gave him his time, doesn’t want to make him feel uncomfy and just take his precious time.
“On the night before I got into an accident, I planned to go to her place because I felt like I neglected her too much. I was having practice on consecutive days since the competition is near.” he says.
He took a long breath and tries to calm himself to go through the night he got into an accident once again.
“I went to her place and found her...” he gulps. You placed a kiss on his chest and caress his back gently. “I found her naked on top of my best friend.” he finally said it.
Your mouth gapped and slowly pulls away from hugging him. His breathing fasten and you raised your head to look at his eyes. It was brimming with tears and you felt like your heart teared off.
“I j-just can’t believe it. How can they do that to me? My girlfriend and my own best friend? That’s so fucked up.” a tear escapes his eyes as he clenched his jaw harder, trying to compose himself.
You cup his face and listened to him carefully.
“I stormed out from her apartment after cursing them out. I drove while still being so angry. The next thing I know, I was in the hospital.”
He pursed his lips together and stared at your eyes. Sunghoon didn’t hold back, he lets you see his vulnerability. He doesn’t know but if there’s someone he can show this side of him, he knew it was you.
“I refused to drive again because I feel like it was the start of how things got messy between all of us. She said I neglected her and all I can think of is that race. My best friend said I took away all the spotlight and left him out of it. He was pushed out of the picture and I am the only one people can see.” he stated, he looked so broken and betrayed.
You may not know a lot about these people, but what you heard from him was enough for you to feel a slight hatred towards them.
“Hey, listen to me.” you sniffed, tears pooling your eyes.
Your hands cupped his face and his hands slowly rested over your hips. His eyes stared at you, trying to listen like you said.
“The issue with your ex girlfriend, it was not right for her to make neglection as a reason to cheat on you. Yes, you might have your short comings as her boyfriend but I am pretty sure you two can solve that problem together by talking.” you carefully make him understand. He stays silent, hand slowly caressing your waist up and down.
“Your best friend,” you started and the picture of the two of them you saw from the internet months ago flashes back to your mind. They look so happy in that photo and yet who knew this could happen?
“You can never cure insecurity, baby. Even if you try to give him the time to shine, you can never fix his own issues for him. If he cannot be supportive of you, then he doesn’t deserve you.” you rest your forehead over his.
“Don’t blame yourself for something you don’t have control of. Even if you don’t neglect her, what assurance do you have that she will not do that to you? If its meant to happen, it will happen. Just like racing.” you smile gently at him, tears streaming down your pretty face.
Sunghoon raises one of his hand to wipe off those tears and kiss you once on the cheek.
“Racing and you are meant to be together. You shine differently behind those wheels and you love racing. Don’t let these people take away your dream.” and you sincerely told him.
Something tugs inside Sunghoon’s heart as he leans in to give you a slow heated kiss on the lips. That night, he couldn’t be more thankful that he have you beside him. You spent the whole time cuddling and enjoying each other’s warmth.
The next day, you left after giving him smooches. He refused on letting you go, but you told him you have an importang meeting for that day. He was a little sulky so you had to give him a head to boost his mood a little.
He walked you out and waves cutely, the firm disapproval of you leaving flashes across his handsome face. His bed hair and slightly crinkled white shirt just gave more vibe to you, making your stomach churns and wetting you down there.
Sunday came as well, Hana went back and you decided to spend it with her. Sunghoon kept on texting you. Thankfully he wasn’t that sulky about it.
“Doctor, that was your last patient.” your secretary announced after she knocks and opens the door to your office.
You smiled and told her she did well today. It’s monday already and you’re off to go see Sunghoon at his place for his session.
Speaking of which, your smile grew after seeing his caller i.d flashing through your phone.
“Yeah?”
“You’re at your office?” he asks.
“Uh-huh. Why? I’ll just fix my things and I’ll go straight to your place.” you informed him.
You can hear some muffled background sounds from the other line, like he’s walking or something.
“Nah, stay there. I’m almost at your floor.”
“Huh? What are you doing here?” you asked, confused.
“Picking you up. See you in a bit, baby.” and he ended the call.
You couldn’t help but to smile widely just by thinking he came here to fetch you. Not long after, a knock can be heard from your office door. With excited hops you went to open it for him. A big grin is what greets you.
“Baby!” you greeted cheerfully and threw yourself at him. It made Sunghoon giggle and press kisses on your lips right away.
One of his hand rests over your waist, the other one holding something. After being satisfied of the affections you shared with each other, you pulled away and stared at him.
“You didn’t have to come and pick me up, you know?” but the smile on your lips almost rips face.
“We’ll go out on dinner.” he says that made your brows arched. You’re about to say something when he beats you into talking.
“With my parents.” he added that made your face turn pale instantly.
You’ve seen Mrs. Park a couple of times throughout the process of your sessions with Sunghoon. She is nice, except that you still find her a little intimidating. His father tho, despite showing his trust on you that day they seek for your professional help, he intimidates everything in you.
“You okay, baby?” and he pulls you closer to him.
“I’m nervous. Why are we suddenly having dinner with them?” you asked a little warry.
He smiles and kissed your cheeks, finding you adorable like this. He placed the paperbag he’s been holding ever since he arrived. Your eyes darted at it with slight curiosity.
“You can wear this dress for tonight.”
While staring at his expressive eyes, you realized you’ve got no choice but to go with him. Thankfully, he did gave you enough time to get ready and make yourself look more presentable. You have no idea what’s the dinner for since Sunghoon didn’t quite made it clear.
After an hour or two, he guided you towards the elevator. His coat rests on your shoulder to keep you warm while you go down to where he parked.
“Where is your driver?” you asks, roaming your eyes around to search for his familiar range rover.
Instead, he guides you over into a red sports car. With hopeful eyes, you glanced silently at him. He smirks and opened the passenger seat to the two-seater vehicle.
“I’ll be driving us tonight, pretty.” he finally confirms and you couldn’t explain how happy you are at that moment.
He leans and kissed your shoulder before helping you to get inside. You took the time admiring the inside of his car. It was very beautiful. The kind of car you think that fits Sunghoon, the famous F1 racer. His range rover is not bad, but this one fits him even more.
“What?” he scoffed while starting the engine when he noticed how your stares lingers.
“Have I told you how sexy you are?”
He chuckled and smirked widely.
“Well, this sexy man will eat you later tonight.”
You blushed and quickly swat his arm quickly. “You always find a way to ruin the moment with your horniness.”
He laughed and leans to kiss you on your cheeks swiftly, “What can I say? I just couldn’t get enough of you.”
The ride was short and you can feel your whole system panicking the moment he handed his keys to the vallet. He offered his hand and you accepted it as he guided you inside. Just days ago, you were inside a fine diningr restaurant and now you are here once again. What’s even more thrilling is that his parents will join you.
The waiters greets you with full enthusiasm and helped you find your table. They informed the two of you that his parents were already there.
“Doctor (Surname).” his Mom flashes you a big smile the moment she sets eyes on you.
Compared to the last time you met them, their aura seems to be lighter. His Dad looked a little more friendlier. A small smile plays through his lips as he silently watch you two approach the table.
You bowed politely and accepted the sudden hug from his mother. She’s always nice, but never to this extent. It caught you off-guard.
Sunghoon pulls the chair for you and waits for you to have a seat before taking his.
“We already ordered our food! I hope you don’t mind, Doctor (surname).” she says with so much elegance.
You smiled, “Not at all. Apologies for being a little late.”
“Oh, no need! I mean we did arranged this dinner so suddenly.” she giggles.
You have no idea what she thinks about you and where you stand in her son’s life so you feel a little awkward. Despite the large leap between your relationship with Sunghoon, he didn’t confirmed anything yet.
You felt his arm resting at the rest of your chair. It caught his father’s eyes so you felt conscious and made sure not to lean back. His Mother was the one who carries the whole conversation. She seems excited and so you make sure you respond well to her.
“So Doctor (Surname)—”
“Y/n, Mom. Call her by her first name. You’re too formal.” Sunghoon interrupts her while the waiters starts to serve the food.
“Is it okay with you, dear?” she asks.
You eagerly nodded your head as you find it a little awkward to be called by your surname all the time.
“Please enjoy the meal, y/n.” Sunghoon’s father said that made you glance at his direction. You nodded and all of you started eating.
Sunghoon kept looking after you that even while his father and him discusses about something, he keeps on assisting you. You blush, feeling a little shy that his mother will soon take notice and ask what’s between the two of you.
“You’re probably wondering why we suddenly asked to have dinner with you.” she started after you finished the main meals and now at your desserts.
You nodded and patiently wait for what she’s about to say. She pursed her lips and you can see her eyes softening, slightly brimming with tears.
She reaches for your hand and the two male kept silent, watching the two of you. Sunghoon’s hands moves and rests at the small of your back, giving it subtle caress.
“We want to thank you for looking out for Sunghoon and for helping him. We really did the right choice of asking for your help.” she sincerely said.
You smiled, “It was my pleasure.”
She smiles, “When he told us that he wants to undergo surgery and to drive for (f1 team) once again we were so happy. We couldn’t thank you enough!”
Your mouth gapped at what you just heard. The shock on your face was too evident that his Mom looked at you with amusement.
“W-What?” you asked, totally confused.
“Wait, he didn’t told you?” his Mom asks.
You shook your head side to side and heard Sunghoon heaving a sigh from beside you. He pushed himself from resting at his chair.
“It was suppose to be a surprise for her, Mom.” he says that made you look at him with teary eyes.
“Surprise.” he smirks.
“Are you really...?”
He nods his head, staring at you with an unknown look on his face. His affection for you oozing that even his parents noticed it right away. They didn’t need to ask or for their son to confirm it. From just how he holds you and looks at you, they can tell that he’s very fond of you.
“I’m so happy for you!” and you caged him with a tight embrace.
The dinner continued with a lighter atmosphere. You shared conversation with his Mom as she starts telling you stories about his childhood which you find really entertaining.
“Thank you for tonight.” you smiled widely at his Mother when its time to bid goodbye.
She pursed her lips and approaches for yet another warm hug. “Thank you for coming into our son’s life, y/n.” she whispers only for you to hear.
Your heart thumps and was unable to say anything else after she pulls away to give her son a hug this time. They waved and Sunghoon guides you towards his sports car.
“She likes you so much.” he says after putting his seatbelt on.
“Well your Mom is a sweetheart.”
He smiled agreeing. He started the engine and drove. You noticed that he its not the direction back to the hospital so you glanced at him.
“You aren’t taking me back to the hospital?”
He glanced at you, “Why? You left something?”
“My car is there.”
He kept his eyes at the road, “You’re going home with me tonight. You don’t need your car.”
You pursed your lips into a pout, “But I have work tomorrow.”
“We can ask someone to buy you work clothes and I can drive you to the hospital tomorrow since I also need to see the surgeon my Mom was talking about.”
Your eyes grew out of excitement.
“Okay, I can accompany you before I go to work.”
So it was final. The two of you made it to his place and decided to cuddle. Legs tangled with each other, your head laying over his chest as he hugs you close to his body. Sunghoon couldn’t ask for anything else. Just by having you like this while your hearts beats in sync with each other was enough.
The two of you spent the whole night just enjoying the warmth and comfort that escalates between you. It was a wholesome moment that probably will be cherished for as long as you can remember.
“Fucking fuck!” Sunghoon’s rasp voice moaned as he continued rutting deep and hard from behind you.
It was morning the next day and nothing’s better to start your day with a morning fuck. So here you are on your second orgasm for today, face pressed down on the pillow while he take you deliciously from behind. You can feel his length reaching all the right spot perfectly.
“H-Hoon, just like that!” you screamed.
“Pussy so tight for me. So good, so fucking good.” he leaned and bite on your skin before rocking even harder.
When you’re about to reach your climax, Sunghoon flips you around so you can face him. “I want to see your beautiful face while I cum deep inside you.” he groaned and once again find his pace.
You two were a moaning mess, desperately getting drowned by too much pleasures.
“P-Please, I'm cumming.” you mumbled, tears swells over your eyes.
He groped your chest and continued fucking you hard. Sunghoon licks his lips as he make sure he is hitting it deep and right. The amount of pleasure your pussy is giving him is out of this world. For him, nothing can match this. You are the only one.
“Cum with me, baby.” he demands that you completely obliges as eyes rolls back hardly after your release.
After a couple of thrust, Sunghoon shoots his hot seeds deep inside your womb, making sure he paints and claims you enough. He leans in while still giving you lazy thrusts and kissed you on your lips.
He plops beside you and you’re both trying to catch your breaths.
“We need to get ready.” you announced and sat up. His eyes follows you silently.
“Can’t we just go tomorrow instead?”
You shook your head in disapproval. “No. We have to do your sessions tomorrow so we have no time. Besides, you have to meet with your surgeon.”
After so many attempts of making him leave the bed and get ready, you finally succeeded. He drove you to the hospital.
“We’ll go to your surgeon first.” you left him with no choice.
Sunghoon silently follows, ignoring the eyes that obviously watches him after recognizing who he is. His tall figure, handsome face and the way he carries himself just catches attention easily.
“Excuse me, is doctor Kang available at the moment?” you ask the attendant nurse.
Her eyes lits up at the sight of you and smiles. “Yes, doctor.” she response.
“Great! May I ask what time is his appointment with Park Sunghoon?”
The nurses eyes brightens, “Mr. Park Sunghoon? Oh, Doctor Kang has been waiting for him for twenty minutes. His Mom already made the appointment last night.”
You smiled excitedly, “Thank you! I’m sorry for being late, we were caught on traffic. Can we go inside now?”
She nods and just informs Doctor Kang that his patient just arrived. You walked towards Sunghoon who have a placid expression on his face.
“Let’s go. I will walk you inside and I’ll go.”
“You’ll leave me there?” he asked with a tone of betrayal.
“I have work to do.”
“But I need you there.”
You sighed, “I’ll just meet with my client and then I will come back here. Okay?”
He still looked unsatisfied, but you pulled him towards the office of his surgeon. When you entered, his head lifts and eyes widen in surprise to see you. It didn’t slip from Sunghoon. The delightful look on his face the moment he saw you walking inside stirs something inside him.
He walks near you, back pressing on your back.
“Doctor (surname), what a surprise.” he greets and stood up from his table.
“Oh, I just accompanied Sunghoon here.” and now his eyes darted at his direction.
The doctor seem to be surprised again and quickly offered a hand. Didn’t want to be rude, Sunghoon tries to keep his cool and accepted it.
“Its such an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Park.” he says.
He gave him a short nod, looking a little snobby. Your lips lifts a bit, remembering how he’s just the same the first time you two had met.
“How’d you know him?” he curiously asked you.
You smiled, “I’m his psychiatrist,”
“And my girlfriend.” Sunghoon added that caught you off-guard, resting his hand over your waist.
The smile on his surgeon’s face fell, but he tries hard to pull it back.
“Oh, I s-see.” he awkwardly stated.
You blinked and with blushing cheeks, you realized it was your cue to leave them two alone.
“I’ll see you l-later?” you stuttered.
Sunghoon seemed unbothered and even pleaced a peck on your lips before finally letting you go. The whole time you’re walking towards your building, your mind was occupied. You cannot think of anything else but what Sunghoon just said.
Girlfriend? Did he really just said you are his girlfriend? Your stomach churns and heart hammered hardly inside your chest.
It took everything in you to shove that thought off of your mind in order to focus on your work. Your sessions went surprisingly well regardless of being a little distracted because of the F1 racer.
After your last session, you heard a knock from your door and Sunghoon went inside. You smiled while still writing something at your folder.
“So...” you started and tilts your head at him.
“Since when did I became your girlfriend?” your tone sounds teasing. He smirks and leans in to drop a peck on your lips.
“Since I asked you out on a date.”
You furrowed your brows, “The day we met after not seeing each other for days?” you tried confirming it to him.
He nodded his head innocently.
“I thought you already knew that we’re already dating since I asked you out.”
You blushed, “Do you even like me?”
He narrowed down his brows and stared right at your face. “No.” his quick answer shoots you straight to the chest. It was painful.
He grabs your hand and gently guides you to stand up only to tug you closer to him. He wraps his arms around your body.
“I love you.” the three words came out from him naturally that you’re completely dumbfounded.
You blinked, “A-Are you serious?”
Sunghoon chuckled, finding you adorable.
“I am crazy for you, y/n. In case you failed to notice.”
You smiled and tip-toed for a kiss on his lips. “I love you too.”
His cheeks perks up in so much satisfaction after hearing you utter those three words. You never knew that you two will end up in this situation. You were just overthinking about this and now it was settled. There’s nothing more you can ask and just enjoys being warmly wrapped between your boyfriend’s warmth.
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Almost two months had passed and you cannot be happier. It was well spent with Sunghoon as you two grew in love with each other. He was badly smitten over you as much as you are to him.
His surgery went well too and he’s now on his therapies for him to get back in the right shape. The doctor said once he's over with all of this, he’s good as new like before. He can go back on track and win races again.
“Come in!” your cheerful voice echoes inside your office after you heard a knock from your office door.
You’re done with your session today and just getting ready to leave. Sunghoon’s not responding from your text an hour ago so you assumed you won’t be meeting him again today. He’s been really busy with his therapies lately and you completely understand.
Right now, your top priority is for him to get better and nothing else.
“Miss me?”
Your hand halts from putting your things inside your bag. Shivers ran through your spine and cold sweats all over you. The familiar horrifying voice you almost forgot about rings inside your head, instantly triggering that traumatic experience you had.
Slowly, you turned around to face the person standing right by the door. The smile on his face terrified you.
“M-Mr. Cha.” you stuttered while looking at him with nothing but fear on your eyes.
“Nice to see you too, y/n.” he trailed his gaze from your face down to your body. And when you saw how he licked his lips as he does that disgusts the hell out of you.
“I see you’ve been prettier while I was gone.” he walks closer and you couldn’t even move a muscle. You are pierced right at your position, unable to even say anything.
You wanted to run as fast as you can, but your stupid feet just could not move. Like it was glued or something.
“How have you been?” his hand raised to touch your face and you moved away. He doesn’t seem to like what you did so he grabbed your hair.
“Being feisty, eh?” the sarcasm looms over his tone as he pulled your head backwards, he took his time admiring your beautiful face up close.
The director can’t remember the very first time he ever started to feel the attraction towards you. Maybe it was when his father introduced you to him as the newly hired psychologist for the hospital. He still remember how bragged that you’re one of the top students in your university and the hospital managed to pull you.
He couldn’t help but to agree. It was indeed a lucky thing they managed to have you.
“P-Please don’t do this...” your tears rolled down your cheeks and lips shakes in so much fear.
Just by thinking of going through the same process like before terrified you. But who you are kidding? You didn’t even know why you bother to plead when you knew very well he wouldn’t listen.
Mr. Cha smirks and started peppering you with kisses. You grunts and cried in resistance, but he’s just more powerul than you.
As tears silently rolled down your face while this man was assaulting you, Sunghoon flashes through you mind. How you wished he can be here to protect you and prevent this thing to happen. You should’ve had said to him what happened before.
That’s the thing. No matter how many times you try, you can’t. Fear and embarrassment takes over whenever you try to tell him about that day. You know he would understand, its just your own fear is hunting you.
On the other hand, Sunghoon’s all smiley while he parks his car at the underground parking lot of the hospital. He’s just in time to pick you up from your shift.
He felt bad that therapies had been taking all of his time and he couldn’t spend more time with his lovely girlfriend. Tomorrow, he’s off to leave the country for a week of seminar and therapy. It would be the last one before the doctors allowed him to go on full training.
He figures he can go see and spend the night with you before he leaves for a few days. He will miss you the most.
As the elevator tings at your floor, he steps outside and saw that the table of your secretary was vacant. Seems like she left already. He’s pretty sure you are still here since he didn’t receive any messages that you left your office.
When he stepped closer, he can hear muffled sound coming from inside. Things being moved and some grunts. He slowly pushed the door open and the flower he was holding fell to the cold floor.
His whole body felt numb and his ears ringed at the sight in front of him. He can feel his whole body feeling cold, mind going blank.
“What the fuck...” he said that made the man holding you moved away.
Your teary eyes grew and you quickly fixed yourself as Mr. Cha managed to push your skirt up until your waist. You still have your underwear on, but the scene itself was sensual enough for Sunghoon to react this way.
“H-Hoon...” you called softly and tried to stand up properly.
When he looked at you with the hint of betrayal flickering through his eyes, your heart drops. He misunderstood everything. He clenched his jaw and took a step backwards, shaking his head from side to side.
“N-No! It isn’t what you t-think—”
You squealed when he step forward and took a hold of Mr. Cha’s collar. With dark and dangerous eyes he glares right at him. He threw a punch with no hesitation.
“Fuck you!” he shouted.
You quickly went to stop him before he unwillingly damage his shoulder again. Thankfully, he did let you but your heart broke when he shoved your hold off from him. He glanced at you with cold eyes and left the room.
You got stoned in your position for a while before finally composing yourself. Without much thought inside your head, you grabbed your jacket and phone to come after Sunghoon. He was no longer in the elevator and so you headed down the parking lot hoping you can catch up on him.
“Sunghoon!” you called out and scurry over to his sports car. Surprisingly, nobody was there.
A part of you felt relieved that he didn’t go and drove away using his car while he’s feeling that way. You’re still very worried. You fished your phone from your pocket and dialled one of his friend’s number.
“Y/n?” his surprised tone greets you after answering your call.
“Jake! Is Sunghoon with you?”
“Huh? He just left to go see you. Is he not there yet?”
You bit your lower lip and another set of tears attempts to stream down your face. Just being reminded of how horrible and hurt he looked moments ago hunts you.
“W-We had a fight. Can you please call him? Please? I’m scared that he’ll get into another accident.”
You heard background noises from the other line and follows, “All right. Jay and I will look around for him. Don’t worry too much and be safe.” he says that send instant relief.
“Thank you.” and you crash down the pavement near his parked car.
It’s unbelievable how these things are happening to you right now. As far as you remember, you’ve never did anyone wrongly to the point for you to suffer this way. Nobody deserves to be assaulted and silenced that way. But you are scared. To think that you shouldn’t be the one to feel ashamed but still do is depressing.
As expected, he refused to see you. His friends did confirmed that they had found him somewhere and safely took him to his house. It was enough for you. The last thing you’d want is for him to get into trouble because of you.
You headed home as well, praying so bad that everything will be fine soon. You’ve been so happy with Sunghoon lately that you lost track of time. The director is back after being out of the country for a while. You’re a bit dumb to think that he will stop once he sees you’re already dating somebody.
The next day, you’re about to head over to Sunghoon’s house but to your dismay he’s off to do his last therapy. It slipped off your mind as well. Now, it made you feel bad even more. He might have went there to come see you since he will leave for a few days.
You planned to come after him, but it may be not the best choice. His mind is probably occupied and he needs time to collect his own thoughts. The best thing you can do right now is resign from your job and wait for him to come back. You can afford losing that big opportunity, but not Sunghoon. Not him.
On the other hand, Sunghoon’s on his second day out of the country. He still out of it. He’s body is here, but his mind is clearly left back at you. His heart too. He can still feel his chest tightening whenever he recalls how he sees another man touching and kissing you that way.
“That seminar is so boring!” his head craned over to one of his friend as he settles down beside him. He placed his food on the table and glanced at Sunghoon once.
“You’re too quiet these days, hyung. You missed Y/n noona that much?” he teased and even nudge him over the shoulder.
He ignored what he said and remained silent. He was right. Even after what he saw, he can’t deny that he’s been missing you so much.
“But you know Cha Jin? The director of that hospital she's working on?” he stated that made Sunghoon stops from fidgeting over his fingers.
Just by merely hearing that guy’s name sets fire inside him. It boils his blood that he wants to go straight to where he is and punch him nonstop until he passed out.
His friend seemed to not notice how his expression changed and just continued talking about this director.
“He used to be my cousin’s batchmate and he said that guy harassed a lot of girls before! He even mentioned if it wasn’t for his family’s money and power, he would have been already in jail.”
Sunghoon stunned at what he just heard. He suddenly got reminded of how he caught you and that guy that day. Him pressing himself over you while your eyes brim with tears.
Your eyes....
He cursed inwardly for not noticing it right away and for letting his emotions take over him completely.
He abruptly stood up from his seat that surprised even his friend. He looked at Sunghoon with confused eyes.
“Hyung?”
“I’ll go first.” he says and started pressing something over his phone.
“G-Go where? Hyung!” he slightly panic at the sight of the older one gathering some important things.
“Home. Tell Mr. Lim I left because of an emergency.”
Sunghoon didn't even let his friend to say anything else and just proceed on leaving that place. He put his phone over his ears and wait for the other person to answer the call.
“Yes, Mr. Park?”
“I want to file a case.” he says seriously, fist hardly clenched while talking to his lawyer.
He wants so bad to ruin Mr. Cha for doing that and he wants to punch himself for being too dumb to notice. Sunghoon asked for an immediate flight back home and tried to organize everything that will be needed.
The next day, you went over your office to gather some things. Honestly, you have no enough courage to go there. You knew you couldn't stand being in that room for long right after what he just did to you.
You hate it because you’ve put so much work and effort just for that place to feel cozy and safe. He just ruined all of it. He’s disgusting and a monster.
Just as you’re hurrying to put all the stuff you can fit inside the small box you brought, your door bursts open.
“Leaving without saying good bye?”
You whipped your head to face him with piercing eyes. Seeing him flashing a smile and having the face to be here after doing all of that to you is unbelievable. He has no shame at all.
“I’m quitting my job.”
He scoffed, “Really?” he laughed with no humor. He still scares you, but you need to be brave. You have to.
“Do you think another hospital will accept you if I spread rumor about you?” he slid his hand inside his pocket and tilts his head with a cocky smile.
You clenched your jaw and stared at him with so much hatred. He is powerful and wealthy. You knew he can ruin your life in a snap, mainly why you’re also too afraid to leave this place.
“You can’t do anything about it, y/n.” he smirks wickedly.
A tear fell from your eyes then it moves over to look at the unfamiliar person who suddenly walks inside. Your brows furrowed in confusion and so does Mr. Cha.
“But I can.” Sunghoon’s familiar voice made you roam your eyes around and you almost lost your balance when you saw him walking inside.
“What...” Mr. Cha is as confused as you are.
“Mr. Cha Jin we are asking you to come with us for interrogation about a case of harassment and rape.” a guy held him by his shoulder firmly and the other put his wrists together.
Sunghoon walks towards you and cupped your face, making you burst into tears even more.
“I’m sorry for being late, baby.” he mumbles and you just shook your head side to side.
“You’re just in time.”
He smiles and leaned down to give you a sweet kiss on your lips. He pulled away and both of you looked over Mr. Cha as he kept on resisting from the people whose guiding him outside.
“You can’t do this! You have no enough proof!” he said enraged and his eyes darted at your direction.
“Tell them, y/n! Tell them I am innocent! Do something! Defend your director!”
You can’t believe how he can say all those words towards you when he knew very well how guilty he is. Sunghoon tugs you closer, trapping your body using one of his arm.
He throw an envelope near Mr. Cha and his eyes dropped down to look at it.
“That’s her resignation letter.” Sunghoon said seriously.
Mr. Cha doesn’t look so happy about it and with gritted teeth he looked at the two of you.
“You can’t do this! You know what I can do to you, y/n!” he kept threatening you.
Sunghoon scoffed and tilts his head before placing a kiss on your forehead while still eyeing Mr. Cha. No fear can be seen over your boyfriend’s eyes.
“You messed with the wrong girl.”
He signalled the authorities to take him away already and you nuzzle over his chest as the commotion unfold. You have nothing in mind, but the thought of things being over.
“Wait.” you said when it finally hits you.
“Are you done with your therapy?” you looked at him with worried eyes.
Sunghoon smiled a little, “Not yet.”
“Then why are you here? You should be—” your words got cut off when he leans in and drop a kiss at your lips.
“I am here because my girlfriend needs me. I am a fool to leave you here alone that day.” guilt flashes through his eyes and you’re quick to comfort him.
“Don’t say that. The important thing is that you are here now.” and you wrapped your arms around his waist for a tight hug.
You two stayed that way before you decided to go home.
“Wait.” Sunghoon says and tugs your arm to pull you back.
Your body crashes on his and he looked at you with those hot eyes. With a little suspicion you stared at him.
“W-What?”
He smirked as one of his hand slowly moves down your thighs. You blushed and roamed your eyes around to check if somebody is there.
“Let me fuck you here in your office one last time.” he whispered sexily as he swiftly switch your positions and pushed you over your office table.
“But what if someone sees us?”
He pushed your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Sunghoon curses at how hot you looked beneath him before he licked his lip.
“Then they will enjoy the show.” and with a big grin, he pushed your undies to the side then pulled out his erect cock.
He gave his palm a lick before aligning his hardened head on your wet core. You let out a small moan at the sensation of his dick touching your entrance.
“Nobody,” he grunts as he pushed it inside with no mercy making you yelped a little. “can every taste you this way. This is all mine. Mine.” he said firmly like a law nobody can disobey.
He started thrusting from behind you and you two are both a moaning mess. He made his hand roam your sexy back before reaching your hand to intertwin your fingers.
“I love you so much, baby.”
Your mouth hanged open, saliva dripping slightly out from it from too much pleasure as your boyfriend kept hitting the right spots.
“I l-love you, Hoon.”
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“You look lovely.” he doesn’t even need to utter those words towards you as his eyes are enough for you to know it.
The way Sunghoon stares at you with so much love and affection will always be your favorite thing. His thick brows making a straight line whenever he looks at you indicates how his worries disappears. His sexy eyes never leaving you and his lips lifting for a smile shows how badly smitten he is for you.
You smiled and leaned closer for one kiss as you don’t want your gloss to be smeared all over him if it was a long kiss. He tried to chaste after, not satisfied with the short affection. You’re quick to dismiss his attempt for another kiss.
“Later.”
“Later?”
You giggled, “Yes, later.”
He nods and placed a kiss at your shoulder before the two of you walks inside the venue. Tonight, his team gathered everyone for a small dinner party to welcome him back. His other team-mates and his coach are pretty much excited to have him back.
Of course, he asked you to be there. He wants you to be there for him.
“There he is! My man!” their coach cheers and eagerly approached Sunghoon as you two made an entrance.
His teammates didn’t waste time to come and greet him as well, delighted to see him around. You didn’t fail to catch their attention too as they kept eyeing you after greeting Hoon.
Your eyes catch a glimpse of his ex-girlfriend with Sunghoon’s ex best friend. They both stood from a distance unlike everybody else. She looked a little sad and whole regretful as she stare at your direction.
She couldn’t help but reminisce the times that it was her who he was holding.
“This is Doctor y/n (surname), my girlfriend.” he announced sounding so proud.
They all looked amused and even bickered around who can shake your hand first. You giggled finding it adorable and funny.
“You two look good together.” your heads whipped over to the side when two people approaches.
The taunting lingers over his tone as he smirks over Sunghoon, eyes flickering slight anger and disapproval to your boyfriend’s presence. Natasha stood close to him, her body language shows how uncomfy she is and how she refused to be in that situation.
A part of you felt bad for her, but you also know she kind of deserves it after what she did to Sunghoon.
Sunghoon didn’t show any sign of annoyance through his face, but instead pulled you closer to his side.
“Thanks. I can say the same thing to the two of you.” Sunghoon said with a playful smirk on his face as he stated those words with a meaningful tone.
Natasha looked so bothered about it and so does his best friend. He tries to hide it with a humorless laugh and clicked the side of his cheeks.
“Don’t you feel sorry for suddenly showing up like nothing happened?” he fired that made Sunghoon's smile fell.
His smirk grew wider at the reaction Sunghoon showed. He seems to be enjoying it and you hate it. So even before he can utter another word, you stepped in.
“Yes, my boyfriend does feel sorry.” you interrupted with a sweet voice and a playful expression on your face.
Everyone eyed you as you looked straight at his ex best friend’s face.
“The only thing he felt sorry about is that he left the team on your care.” you said that earned reactions from their teammates.
You pursed your lips into a pout, like you feel sorry. Like you feel so much pity.
“You didn’t even made it to the top five, right? What a shame.” you teased that clearly hit the spot as his smirk fell completely.
Sunghoon grinned and licked his lip before tilting his head over to the side, very impressed.
“But don’t worry guys. Sunghoon’s back to win you another trophy this season. I know he won’t disappoint us.” and you flash them all a very sweet smile.
And he really didn’t disappoint.
“For first place, champion for this season.” the announcer voice echoes to the whole place while you looked above during the podium ceremony.
Your eyes goes teary just watching Sunghoon smiling so widely while looking straight at you. His mother held your arm beside and got her widest smiles as well.
“Park Sunghoon!” everyone cheered so loudly after his name was called.
You screamed and clapped, admiring how he really shines. This is where he truly belongs, his natural habitat. He is meant for this. You pursed your lips, trying to hold back your tears.
He kissed the trophy while still looking straight to you. He mouthed ‘I love you’ and you responded, ‘I love you.’
Your heart races as the crowd cheers loudly for Park Sunghoon, the famouse ace racer of the team (f1 team) and also your boyfriend.
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fushitoru · 1 month
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chapter 2: the aftermath a bridgerton!au
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pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, heir to a dukedom mr. satoru gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)
a/n some parts of this chapter broke my brain to write but i kind of had fun! as always thank you to @/sinn-claire for beta reading :p i was going to say i'll try to have weekly updates but i don't want to jinx it lol
prev. the debutante | next. the manor
general masterlist | series masterlist
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Dearest gentle reader, 
It appears that Her Majesty has bestowed the coveted title of this season’s Diamond upon none other than Miss Itadori, who has indeed lived up to her newfound acclaim as the incomparable of the year. At the latest ball, our shining Diamond was quite occupied, with suitors lining up in such numbers that one might have thought them to be queuing for the royal throne itself. Furthermore, blooms were budding between many of the debutantes and gentlemen, including…..
...Yet, one particular couple captivated the attention of all: none other than Mister Satoru Gojo and our season’s Diamond. After having kept his words sparse and his attentions limited to none, Mister Gojo appeared utterly taken with Miss Itadori, conversing with her intimately on the dance floor. It seems your humble Author was indeed correct⸺Mister Gojo has entered the marriage market. However, the exclusivity he has adopted may not deter the determined maidens he seeks to avoid, for the Ambitious Mamas will no doubt perceive his selectiveness as a challenge to be overcome. 
One cannot help but wonder if an announcement of particular interest will be made at the upcoming Gojo country house party. Although your Author has not yet laid eyes upon the guest list for the Duchess Gojo’s anticipated gathering, reliable sources suggest that nearly every eligible young lady of marriageable age will be journeying to Kent next week. The country house party is known to be a perilous affair. Married individuals often find themselves enjoying the company of someone other than their spouse, while the unwed frequently return to town betrothed with surprising haste.
Indeed, the most unexpected engagements often follow closely on the heels of such rustic diversions.
⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
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Satoru had no intention of squandering his time this season⸺or at any time, for that matter.
The notion of love matches held little appeal to him, despite witnessing such a union firsthand in his own parents. Make no mistake, the Duke and Duchess Gojo enjoyed a happy marriage, and Satoru held both his father and mother in the highest regard. Yet, he was perfectly content on his own.
Being one of the strongest bachelors⸺both intellectually and physically⸺has been Satoru’s destiny. Ever since his ancestors had been blessed by the royal family with the dukedom, the Gojo family had made its goal to be the most powerful nobility and the closest to the royal family. (Which is still maintained in the status quo, because the Queen dotes on Satoru, inviting him for tea every fortnight. The Queen lavished him with overly sweet biscuits, and in return, Satoru provided her with the latest gossip from court). 
But this responsibility doesn’t get fulfilled without independence; one had to accept the solitary truth that to be truly great was to remain unswayed by the fleeting pleasures of the world⸺love included.
Satoru had little time or interest for the other vices that tempted men of his station, such as lust. Contrary to the whispers circulating among the ton, Satoru had never indulged in the life of a rake or frequented brothels as many of his acquaintances did. Really, the allegations were, in truth, merely just a byproduct of his appearance and demeanor; with a young man with the stature, face, and eligibility of Satoru, the public would immediately like to slap on the label of “rake” due to his arrogant personality. Moreover, any encounters he had witnessed between men and women⸺whether dropping his friends off at brothels in his carriage after an evening at the gentleman’s club or overhearing flirtations at parties⸺struck him as shallow and an utter waste of time, especially when he was already a week behind on the ledgers and other official matters his father had entrusted to him. (He did have one indulgence, however: a weakness for gluttony, with an array of sweet confections as his loyal companions during long, sleepless nights.)
Marriage was an even greater burden. The thought of being accountable for a wife, and eventually children, seemed like a daunting task to Satoru. With sleepless nights spent on covering just a fraction of the business his father must do as a duke, Satoru was tired. He was exhausted⸺exhausted from the weight of responsibility, from striving to meet his father’s expectations, from seeking the Queen’s approval, from worrying over what Whistledown might print about him, and from the gossip of the businessmen with whom the Gojo family dealt. 
And yet, despite this weariness, Satoru was gripped by an insatiable obsession with perfection, an obsession that only deepened his fatigue. He craved approval, power, and the flawless execution of his duties⸺desires that gnawed at him even as they threatened to consume him.
Which is exactly why he needed a perfect wife. A wife that was capable, could handle bothersome people⸺which he was steadily losing the patience to deal with⸺and a reliable companion. Someone that would reduce his stress, not add to it. 
Satoru had spent all day lurking in the shadows as best as he could; being the most eligible bachelor did mean that brothers and sisters were coming up to him, singing praises of their debutante in an effort to capture his interest. But Satoru knew all too well that the loudest families often had the most to compensate for.
As ladies in white paraded before the crowd, many buckling under the weight of judgment and attention, Satoru prowled like a jungle cat, staying hidden in the throng, biding his time, and waiting for the right moment to strike.
What he noticed first about you was your way of carrying yourself. Even Auntie⸺the Queen⸺who, after seeing countless of girls today, had been incredibly bored, dragged her eyes over you in slightly more interest than she did for others. The moment you stepped through those grand doors into the court, it was evident to everyone that your stride was that of someone who understood her role and position in life⸺a confidence that set you apart from the other debutantes. Satoru’s eyes raked over you, observing you as your chest rose slightly as you took a breath in. 
And then you smiled.
Satoru's eyes widened, just imperceptibly, as he watched your expression as you made your way to the Queen. He made sure to shake his expression off to a more nonchalant one as he watched your form walk. Lesser men than Satoru would die for your smile. Men, out of all traits a woman could possess, cherished a pretty visage the most. Yet, what your smile conveyed went beyond mere beauty; it embodied innocence and the qualities most esteemed in a demure bride (which Satoru knew was just all a show, but it was indeed indicative of your skill to put up appearances, hence deeming you a reliable companion).
The corner of the young man's mouth rose.  When the Queen declared you the diamond of the season, Satoru knew he had found his quarry.
When the ball came, Satoru acted similarly: observing from behind, staying in conversation with his friends and other noble men that did business with the Gojo family as he prowled the ballroom, waiting for the right moment to ask you for your hand. And then Naoya came in when you were finally alone, away from all the incompetent men that dared to think they had a chance to court you, and Satoru almost laughed snarkily at how easy it all was. 
Approaching you, saving you from Naoya⸺it was all a perfect construction of his. Dancing, he noticed your steps were carried out with a practiced perfection and grace, and your responses to his questions displayed a respectable level of intellect. He could tell your responses were practiced and simple, your constitution and demeanor a result of much effort into presenting yourself as best as you could. But what does it matter, when you do it so perfectly?
Maybe it was a bit naive of him, but you seemed to glow when conversing with him. It amused him, as he kept watching your pretty eyes as you kept smiling while he kept throwing difficult questions at you. It was all expected, however. Satoru knew he was blessed with the brilliant blue Gojo eyes and eccentric fair, white hair; he was the most eligible bachelor for not only wealth and power but reproductive capabilities and opportunities as well. Which lady wouldn’t want to be mother to his cute and beautiful blue-eyed babies?
After witnessing such mediocre men who paled in comparison to Satoru, surely you must be smitten. Gojo could see right through you: you, the diamond, have been looking for a man as meritorious as you, and you had found it in Satoru. 
So why were you acting this way?
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When you wake up in the morning and get ready for suitors, it is as you expected; there are multiple carriages outside your doorstep, and there is a line from the drawing room, extending all the way down the stairs. When Choso stumbles into the drawing room, where you and your mother are enjoying tea, he is clearly unhappy at the selection of men waiting to be let in to call upon you. 
“This is absurd!” Choso’s hands raked over his hair in an effort to process the scene he had just witnessed. “Why do I see Naoya waiting outside?”
Your nose crinkled in distaste. “Well, dear brother, I certainly cannot control which suitors call upon me. He must’ve enjoyed our conversation yesterday. The enjoyment, however, is one sided.”
Choso’s eyes widened comically. “You had a conversation with him yesterday?” He then turned to your mother accusingly, who was reading a Whistledown while sipping on her tea innocuously. “This would not have happened if I was there, Mother. This is your fault.”
Your mother continued drinking her tea nonchalantly, waiting for a few beats to grace him with a response. “I prefer this, my son, to no visitors out there because our dear Lord Itadori scared all the bachelors away with his pickiness.” Then, her eyes flashed. “And don’t give me that tone.”
You snickered behind your palm as Choso visibly deflated.
 “Kuna! Get back here!”
Pitter patters of small paws started to get closer and closer, as heavy footsteps followed it. Yuji and the family corgi, Sukuna Jr., burst into the room. Eyeing the biscuit in your hand, Kuna made his way directly to you, panting at your feet. A pet given affectionately by your-not-so-affectionate older brother, Sukuna, when he left for his year long trip around Europe, Kuna was the cutest little puppy. You and Yuji loved to spoil him, clearly shown as Yuji patted him while breathing heavily. You cooed as Kuna licked your fingers while inhaling the biscuit you had presented him. 
“Well,” your mother stood up, having finished her tea, and began ushering in the maids to clear the table. “It seems our morning will be quite busy. You’d best be prepared for a long day, my dear.”
Choso was still grumbling as he took a seat across from you, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the long line of suitors outside. “I’m keeping an eye on that Naoya fellow. If he so much as looks at you the wrong way…”
You raised an eyebrow at your brother’s protectiveness, feeling both amused and touched. “Choso, I appreciate your concern, but I can handle myself. Besides, with Kuna here, I doubt any of these gentlemen will get too close without proper approval.”
As if understanding the conversation, Sukuna Jr. barked enthusiastically, his tail wagging as he looked up at you with bright, expectant eyes. You smiled and scratched behind his ears, watching as his tiny body wriggled with joy.
Yuji, still catching his breath from the chase, flopped onto the chair beside you, shooting a grin at Choso. “Come on, big brother, give her a break. It’s not every day our sister gets declared the diamond of the season. Let her enjoy it.”
Choso crossed his arms, still unconvinced. “I’m just saying, if any of these men don’t meet my standards⸺”
“Your standards?” you interrupted with a teasing lilt. “Choso, I’d never find a husband if I had to meet your impossible standards. Besides, you should be more concerned about finding someone yourself.”
Choso’s cheeks tinted with a slight blush, but make no mistake; he was hot with anger, ready to make a snarky retort. Your mother, who had been overseeing the maids, turned her attention back to the conversation with a soft smile.
“Your sister is right, Choso. It’s her time to shine, and as her family, we should support her, not make things more difficult.” She gave him a pointed look before turning to you with a gentler expression, and he backed down as he always does for your mother. “Now, my dear, are you ready to begin receiving your guests?”
You took a deep breath, nodding as you steeled yourself for the hours of polite conversation and careful navigation of the social battlefield ahead. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good,” your mother said, her voice laced with both pride and encouragement. “Remember, you are the diamond of the season. There isn’t a man out there who wouldn’t be lucky to have you.”
You offered a weak smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
As you walked toward the sofa where you would be talking with suitors, Kuna trotted alongside you, his presence a comforting reminder.With Yuji and Choso trailing behind, and your mother leading the way to open the door, you braced yourself for the onslaught of admirers waiting beyond the door.
But as you straighten your posture, in anticipation to greet the first suitor, you couldn't help but glance down at Kuna, who stared up at you with wide, curious eyes. You chuckled softly.
“Well, Kuna,” you whispered, “let’s see who passes your test today.”
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Gojo’s gaze wandered down to Sukuna Jr. in your lap as you stroked his fur, and he gave you a saccharine⸺yet strained⸺smile. “Must this dog bear witness to our conversation? 
As if sensing Gojo’s unfriendliness, Kuna started growling, and you could feel the rumble deep in his stomach. You met Gojo’s sweet smile with one of your own. “Yes.”
Gojo blinked, and the smile on his face faltered. You noticed that this was one of the first time Gojo’s ever expressed an emotion outside of smugness, and you count this as your personal win.
“Well,” he hesitated, and then a smile was on his face as if that stumble didn’t happen. “You look wonderful this morning, Miss Itadori.”
Your eyes flashed at his audacity to talk behind your back and try to fool you with flattery. “On the contrary, I think I look rather simple.”
Gojo, none the wiser as to what you were referring to, waved his hands. “Nonsense.”
Before you could respond, Kuna let out a low, rumbling growl, his sharp eyes fixed on Gojo. The sound was subtle, but in the quiet of the morning, it was unmistakable. Gojo’s gaze flickered down to the small dog, and his smile tightened ever so slightly.
You gently scratched behind Kuna’s ears, calming him, though his gaze never left Gojo. “I apologize on behalf of my dear Kuna,” you said, your voice light but nonetheless pointed. “He tends to be wary of many, particularly those he believes to be with ulterior motives.”
Gojo nodded, unfazed, and looked down at the dog in question. Upon eye contact, all your efforts to calm Kuna went to naught as the dog stood up, tense and teeth almost bared fully, to stare back at Gojo defiantly. Gojo, to his credit, was starting to be a little wary and was giving the pup an impassive stare. 
“You know, I have an affinity for dogs. There are many pups that I have spent my entire childhood with.” He offered a chuckle and moved his hand to pet Kuna. “Dogs do have a way of sensing things, don’t they?” That was clearly the wrong decision because the dog’s growl grew louder, and suddenly, he snapped at Gojo’s hand. Before Kuna could sink his teeth into Gojo’s hand, however, Gojo smoothly withdrew it out of his reach. 
“Protective, isn’t he?” Gojo laughed, but his stare towards Kuna was veering more and more into a glare. He tried to disguise his irritation by suavely adding, “Admirable. I’m glad he has protected my lady so well.” Gojo then grabbed your hand to give you a small kiss on the back of it while keeping eye contact. You had to divert your eyes elsewhere to avoid coloring your cheeks; while you knew this was just another one of Gojo’s pretenses to charm you, you were still fazed by it. 
You cleared your throat and tried to uphold the conversation. After all, it would be outright rude to keep throwing thinly veiled insults his way when there were others in your company; he also had the potential to spread further malicious rumors about you if you showed attitude. You mustered up a fake smile, and offered, “He was a gift to me and Yuji offered by my older brother, Sukuna, when he went traveling,” you offered. 
“Is that the brother you hoped to follow to Europe?”
You blinked and faltered. You didn’t expect him to remember that tidbit from your conversation at the ball last night. While most of the preferences you had asserted were artificial⸺supplemented to you by your tutor, who had drilled what fake preferences of yours would woo men⸺you truly did gain enthusiasm for the languages because you hoped to prove your helpfulness to Sukuna in an effort to run away from your inevitable debut. At the time, you were rebelling against anything your mama said, avoiding anything  associated with being paraded around like an animal, put on display for men. “Yes,” you said slowly, “Yes, it is.” 
Gojo smiled, this time a little more genuine at the fact it was his first time receiving an authentic response from you this morning, rather than something covered with a fake smile. Just as he leaned in slightly, probably preparing to make another smooth remark, Kuna, who had been shifting in your lap, suddenly stilled, his face buried in your lap and tail facing Gojo. For a moment, you thought he might be settling down.
And then it happened.
The largest fart ripped through the room out of Kuna’s arse, which was pointed directly in Gojo’s face. While you were not a scholar studying physics, you were aware that the air dynamics did not do Gojo any favors in preventing the smell from hitting him direct-on. Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise, and his suave expression faltered entirely as the smell quickly followed, filling the air around you both.
You could feel the heat rushing to your face in your effort not to laugh out loud. Trying to keep your composure, you gently patted Kuna’s belly, who was now face up, tongue lolling out in bliss. “Oh, dear,” you muttered, your voice strained with the effort to suppress a laugh.
Gojo, for once, was at a loss for words. His eyes were tearing up, probably at the smell; whenever you and Yuji spoiled Kuna with those biscuits, he dropped nasty-smelling dungs, and you knew Gojo wasn’t spared at all. The arrogant bachelor, who always seemed to have a witty response ready, was now at a loss of words as he weakly gazed upon the weak little poot! poot!s that escaped Kuna as you continued patting his stomach in an effort to relieve your pup’s digestive system.
At Gojo’s expression, you had to take quiet, deep breaths in an effort to rein in the cackles that were threatening to overcome you. You resorted to covering your mouth as you strained, “As you can see, my Kuna is quite expressive, and he seemed quite eager to show you that.”
He offered you a strained smile. “He does indeed generate quite a bit of wind.” At that, you could no longer hold back. Genuine laughter wracked through your figure, hurting your ribs as you tried to quell it with a hand to the mouth, but no avail. Your muffled laughter was still loud, and when the giggles subsided, you wiped your tears and threw an apologetic look at Gojo, preparing to express your regret. 
But you stopped at the sheer wonder he contained in his face as his gaze fixated on your lips, which were drawn back in the ghost of the smile you had while laughing riotously. Without allowing you much time to dwell on it, he stood up and dipped his head in a little bow. “Well, I have been taking quite a bit of your time, Miss Itadori. I better let other suitors have their chance.” He kissed the back of your hand. “I hope to see you at the horse race tomorrow.”
“Likewise.” You couldn’t help but spy some red coloring Gojo’s alabaster cheeks as he made his way to the exit. As you greeted the next suitor, the imprint of a certain man’s lips continued to tingle on your hands. 
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“I told you he was a rake,” Nobara muttered as she scrubbed your arm with an intensity that matched her outrage. After hearing what Gojo had said about you, she was livid. Unfortunately, your skin was bearing the brunt of her frustration.
“Well,” you mused, trying to distract her, “what rumors have you heard that make you think that?”
“Momo told me a few months ago⸺” Nobara paused, her hands hovering over the various bottles on the counter. “Which scent would you prefer for your hair?”
“Sandalwood,” you replied.
Nobara nodded and poured some of the rich liquid into her hands before massaging it into your scalp. You closed your eyes, feeling the tension from the day's exhausting and dull conversations slowly melt away under her skillful fingers. “Momo mentioned that he’s often out late at night, which seems suspicious. But now that I think about it, Momo isn’t the most reliable source,” Nobara added, her tone shifting to one of skepticism.
You quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“There’s talk that she attempted to lure another maid’s husband into an affair,” Nobara replied, her hands now working the shampoo through your hair with a practiced ease. “She even tried to gain access to his quarters.”
You gasped. “How scandalous!”
“I know,” Nobara said, her hands now massaging the back of your neck with a gentler touch. “So, who knows how much truth there is to her gossip. But still, Gojo’s behavior is less than honorable, don’t you think?”
You sighed, gazing up at the ceiling with a mix of frustration and resignation. “He was gossiping about me with other men, calling me all sorts of horrible things⸺‘simple,’ of all things. And yet, he has the audacity to want to call upon me?”
“You know,” Nobara mused as she continued her task, “He sounds the exact opposite of what some of your books would imply.”
You hummed in agreement, recalling the radical works you kept hidden beneath your bed. Your mother would be appalled if she ever discovered them, but you often sought solace in political writings that challenged the rigid expectations of society. “I know. And that is precisely why I have no intention of encouraging his attention this season—at least, not before I ensure his complete and utter humiliation.”
“But do take care. His connections to the Queen are quite strong.”
You drew back from Nobara's hands, much to her chagrin. She gave you a glare while you exclaimed, "What?"
“Surely you’re aware that the Gojo dukedom is among the closest to the royal family?”
You fervently hoped your mother hadn’t caught wind of Gojo's status. Yet, the way she had been observing you⸺subtly scrutinizing you in the drawing room while feigning interest in a suitor awaiting his turn⸺suggested otherwise. She had certainly noticed Gojo's growing interest, and the thought of her getting involved, fixating on a match with him, filled you with dread. Drawing your hands over your face, you moaned, the very notion of her scheming to pair you with Gojo weighing heavily on your mind.
“But that should hardly be a concern if you’ve begun to distance yourself from him, correct? You have been creating some distance, haven’t you?”
Your silence spoke volumes, and Nobara, ever quick to discern your hesitation, gasped in exasperation. “You cannot seriously be considering giving this gentleman any encouragement, can you?”
"No, no, it’s not that,” you replied, massaging your temples in frustration. “It’s just that my mother is probably ecstatic at the prospect of securing a match between me and Gojo.”
“But surely, if she knew the things he’s been saying behind your back, she would understand.”
You tried to open your mouth to respond, but it felt as if your throat had closed up. Would she really? A match with Gojo would mean elevated status for the Itadori family⸺a duchess for a daughter. What worth is there in being the diamond of the season if not to secure the most advantageous match? The very thought made your chest tighten with the suffocating realization that your mother might very well advocate for the union, despite Gojo’s duplicity.
“I⸺” you swallowed. “I’m not sure.” Before Nobara could interrupt, you stood up and reached for your robe. 
Nobara's brow furrowed as she watched you stand up. "Where do you think you're going? You’re not done with your bath, and your hair is still full of suds!" She reached out to stop you, her hands hovering as though unsure whether to pull you back into the tub or grab the robe you were now clutching.
You forced a small, tired smile, grateful for the distraction. “I need just a moment. The water's gone cold, anyway.”
“Oh, nonsense! You’ll catch a chill if you get out now. Sit back down,” Nobara insisted, her protest tinged with genuine concern. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you back toward the warm water.
With a reluctant sigh, you allowed yourself to be coaxed back into the tub. The momentary reprieve from the conversation was a relief, and you welcomed Nobara’s determined focus on completing your bath. She picked up a sponge, her earlier frustration melting into concentration as she scrubbed your back.
“Well, we can discuss that scheming rake later,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “For now, let’s get you properly cleaned up before your mother comes looking for you. She’d never forgive me if I let you appear anything less than perfect.”
You nodded with a lump in your throat, grateful for the change in topic, even if only temporary. The soothing rhythm of Nobara's hands working through your hair, the warmth of the bathwater, and the familiar, comforting routine helped ease the tightness in your chest. For now, the troubling thoughts of Gojo and your mother's ambitions could be set aside.
“Now, hold still,” Nobara said, her tone softening as she rinsed the last of the soap from your hair. “We’ll have you looking radiant again in no time.”
The conversation was left unfinished, hanging in the air like a question that neither of you was quite ready to answer. But for now, the silence was a welcome refuge.
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"Do you have any notion of how impossible it is to charm a lady when there is a pup expelling such foul air right beneath your nose?" Satoru lamented, leaning back in his chair and raking a hand through his tousled hair. The trio gathered at the table presented a rather unusual sight: Satoru, visibly discomposed; Nanami, calmly sipping his drink as ever; and Suguru, nearly doubled over in laughter at his friend’s misfortune.
“Would you please⸺SMACK⸺cease your laughing?!” Satoru glared at Suguru, who seemed to be of no hope, now with tears in his eyes as he clutched his stomach and the back of his head, which Satoru had just hit. 
“Truly, your vanity⸺haaah⸺your vanity was in need of humbling,” Suguru managed between breaths, still snickering behind his palms. 
Satoru glowered, crossing his arms and staring daggers into his drink, as if his gaze alone could break the fine glass. “My pride had already suffered enough. She was positively frigid.”
Nanami hummed. “Perhaps she’s merely discerned your true nature.”
“It defies comprehension,” Gojo groaned, ignoring Kento’s statement. “What kind of lady disparages her own beauty as ‘simple’? I cannot fathom what has caused her such vexation. Only the night before, she was utterly taken with me!”
Suguru⸺who had now calmed down⸺was in the midst of wiping his tears when he suddenly stopped. “You don’t suppose it had anything to do with your careless words, do you?”
Kento eyed the pair in front of him with an accusatory side eye. “And what precisely did you say?”
 “Satoru, in his usual fashion, could not contain his tongue. Out on the terrace, with the garden as witness, he spoke rather unkindly, referring to the diamond as ‘simple and dull.’”
“Nonsense,” Satoru waved his hands, dismissing the idea. “The lady would never wander the gardens at such an hour in the night unchaperoned.”
“I suggest you reconsider.” Kento gave him a stern look and continued, “I happened upon her last night, emerging from the gardens, and she appeared rather disheveled.” 
This revelation gave Satoru pause, but if there was one thing certain about Satoru Gojo, it was this: his arrogance was such that he could scarcely fathom anyone, least of all a lady, finding his charm anything but irresistible⸺even if that very lady had overheard him uttering defamatory remarks about her. And this lady was one he could not let go of, unless he wanted to wave good-bye to his future.
“I am confident all will be well,” Gojo exhaled, his lips curving into a Cheshire smile. “Even if she did overhear, surely a few well-chosen sweet words will surely set matters right.”
(He was most grievously mistaken.)
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“How many of those biscuits do you suppose we could finish?” Yuji was eyeing the biscuits from his seat next to you in the pavilion where you and your family were sitting. Out promenading with the other families of the ton, it was a scenic and beautiful day for you to mingle with even more suitors. The joy!
“Certainly less than me,” you remarked, sipping on your tea smugly. By the irritated pout on his face, you knew you were successful at getting a rise out of your younger brother. Knowing your mother wasn’t in sight, you quickly darted for the jam-filled biscuits, and your brother quickly followed in tow; soon, you were both stuffing your faces silly with the sugary treats.
“You two are incorrigible,” Choso scrunched his nose from where he sat across from you, arms crossed. “There’s no need to inhale those biscuits. What if someone sees?”
Yuji stuck out his tongue⸺now adorned with biscuit crumbs⸺and continued gorging, while you snickered at your younger brother’s pettiness.
“Miss Itadori.”
You began coughing wildly, caught off guard, and hastily straightened your posture to greet your guest. You turned to see Lord Ino, who offered you a slight nod before acknowledging your brothers. “Lord Itadori. Mister Itadori.”
“Lord Ino, nice to meet you on such a fine day.” You try to put a smile on your face as best as you can, even though you were caught off guard. “How do you find today’s weather?” 
Takuma grabs the back of your hand to kiss it. “I find it wonderful for the prospect of promenading. Do you care to do so with me?”
“Of course,” You stand up and link your elbows with Takuma’s.
“We’ll be thirty paces behind you, sister.” You both turned to look at Choso, who was giving Lord Ino his inevitable protective glare. Given Ino’s acceptable station, Choso hadn’t immediately protested, unlike the many suitors he had chased out of your manor the day before. He grabbed Yuji by the elbow, who, with cheeks comically inflated like a chipmunk hoarding acorns, was promptly dragged away. “Yuji, get up.” The last you saw of your brothers was Yuji’s futile protests, his mouth too full to be coherent⸺inevitably sending some crumbs flying onto Choso⸺and Choso swatting him for it.
As you began your walk with Lord Ino, the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming horse race. “Are you looking forward to the race this afternoon?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“I am,” the lord replied. “And you?”
“Very much so,” you said, a hint of excitement in your voice. “I have a feeling that the less popular horse⸺Blaze, was it?⸺might surprise everyone. The conditions seem just right for an underdog victory; the track is soft and warm, which would favor Blaze’s build.”
Lord Ino glanced at you with a polite but unconvinced smile. “But Thunder has higher odds and more bets. It’s as simple as that.”
You couldn’t help but bristle at the word “simple,” a word that had recently come to grate on your nerves. You pressed on, though, determined to keep the conversation pleasant. “I suppose there’s some truth to that, but sometimes there’s more to a race than just the odds and popularity.”
Ino chuckled softly. “Well, a good mentor and friend of mine⸺Duke Nanami⸺agrees with the odds, and His Grace is someone I deeply respect. I tend to follow his lead⸺the duke has a way of teaching lessons without hindering one’s growth.”
Before you could respond, the sound of a trumpet blared in the distance, signaling the start of the race. You looked at him, giving him a courteous nod, gesturing in the general direction Choso and Yuji were supposed to be in. “It seems the race is about to begin. I must rejoin my family.”
You curtsied as he bowed, and you watched as he walked away, leaving you momentarily alone. You took a deep breath, trying to dispel the lingering irritation from the conversation. Just as you began looking for your family, you felt a presence approaching.
You turned to find Lady Mei Mei and her entourage closing in. Their expressions were a study in artful contempt, laced with curiosity and barely concealed amusement. The atmosphere between you was thick with unspoken competition, each woman silently gauging the other’s position on the social ladder. 
“Miss Itadori, what a nice surprise!” Lady Mei Mei remarked, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “It appears you are alone and unchaperoned in a garden yet again! At least, according to what the rumors say. Was it part of yet another one of your charming ploys to get what you want?"
You met her gaze with cool composure, not giving her the satisfaction of a visible reaction. "I have no clue what you're talking about."
Lady Mei Mei tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if appraising a particularly interesting specimen. "Really?" she mused, drawing out the word as though savoring it. "It’s just that Lord Gojo hasn’t spoken with you all day. Even if Whistledown commended you in the last issue, I wouldn’t expect his interest to linger." The two ladies flanking her⸺unremarkable save for their sycophantic attachment to Mei Mei⸺giggled behind their fans, as though she had delivered a crushing blow.
You allowed yourself a small, almost imperceptible smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. "So I’m assuming he called upon you?" you questioned sweetly, your voice laced with feigned politeness.
For a fleeting moment, Lady Mei Mei’s carefully curated composure slipped, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing her face before she regained control. She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper meant for you alone. “None of the suitors will be interested in you any longer. The Queen may have mistakenly proclaimed you the diamond, but a pretty face, empty smiles, and hollow words can only last so long.”
“Whatever would be most convenient for you to believe.” Her words were empty and her threats dull, but you couldn’t help but let it compound on the irritation you had experienced today. But you knew better than to let your tongue loose; you were quite impulsive when you had started, and you didn’t want to start any scandal anytime soon. Instead, you held your ground, trying to maintain your composure (outwardly, at least) as Lady Mei Mei and her entourage turned to leave, their laughter echoing in your ears. 
You tried to implement a few things your tutor had ingrained in you: taking deep breaths and setting your posture correctly. However, as you stood there, collecting yourself, the last thing you needed seemed to manifest before you: Satoru Gojo.
His tall figure approached you with that familiar, self-assured stride, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, Miss Itadori," he greeted, a sly smile playing on his lips. You were already irritated, and it took all your will-power to stifle a groan. 
"I couldn’t help but notice you were conversing with Lord Ino," he remarked casually.
Give him a smile. "Indeed, we were enjoying a promenade. It is, after all, what young ladies and their suitors are expected to do."
“Quite the choice in company!”
KEEP up the smile.  "He is a nobleman, and I am of noble descent. I fail to see your point, Mr. Gojo." 
Gojo’s smile was quick and cutting. “Oh, I’ve no particular quarrel with Lord Ino. It’s simply that he’s hardly the sort I’d expect to see on your arm. After all, he’s practically Nanami’s lapdog.”
You felt the familiar irritation rising within you⸺and you were fighting for your life trying to keep a smile on your face⸺but you kept your tone measured. "And what, pray tell, are you implying by that, Mr. Gojo?"
"It’s quite simple, really⸺" 
But your patience, already worn thin, snapped at that word.
"My good sir, do you not think it rather dishonorable to speak ill of others behind their backs?" Gojo began to respond, but you cut him off. "It’s curious how quickly opinions can change, is it not? Just the other evening, you seemed to hold me in rather low regard. Tell me, do you often dismiss people as ‘simple’ when they fail to meet any of the lofty expectations you have set? Or do you perhaps truly believe yourself to be at a station higher than others?"
Gojo stiffened, the smile slipping from his face as your words hit their mark. Before he could respond, Choso appeared at your side, his protective presence a welcome relief.
“Is there any problem, sister?” Choso asked, his tone polite yet firm as he glanced at Satoru, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Gojo’s gaze flicked to Choso, his irritation clear as he opened his mouth to make a cutting remark, and you couldn’t thank the gods enough for Choso’s mother hen tendencies. But the words faltered when he recognized who had interrupted. For a brief moment, surprise flashed in his eyes before he masked it with a tight-lipped smile.
You seized the moment, turning to Satoru with a sweet smile. “I think our time is up, Mister Gojo,” you said, your voice laced with venom.
Satoru hesitated for just a fraction of a second before nodding curtly, his expression unreadable. “Of course. Until next time, Miss Itadori.”
With that, he stepped back, allowing you and Choso to walk away toward where people were gathering for the race. As you moved through the crowd, you could feel Satoru’s gaze lingering on you, but you didn’t look back.
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“That horse appears rather stout, does it not?” Yuji squinted against the blazing sun as he observed the horses from his seat beside you in the grandstand. “Why has it garnered so many bets?”
Choso, seated protectively on your other side, kept a steady arm linked with yours. His presence was reassuring, though your irritation was directed at the figure seated just below you. Satoru Gojo, to your endless chagrin, was sitting with Lady Mei Mei, who had all but forced her way into the seat beside him. Though he tried to appear indifferent, his signature flirty remarks flowing with ease, you noticed the subtle signs of irritation crossing his face. Whether it stemmed from Lady Mei Mei's advances or from your earlier exchange, you couldn't be sure. You refused to meet his gaze, though you could feel his eyes on you intermittently as the crowd waited for the race to begin.
“Men can be quite foolish at times,” you remarked hotly, your voice carrying just enough to be overheard. “Some people value the superficial and materialistic over true substance, much like they do with horses. Blaze, for instance, has the qualities that truly matter.”
You could almost feel Gojo’s gaze intensify, and despite yourself, you glanced in his direction. Lady Mei Mei, ever the actress, feigned a stumble, exclaiming with a coy smile, “These crowds are rather rough on a lady!”
You scoffed inwardly at her transparent attempt to press her bosom against Gojo’s arm.
“Oh my,” Gojo drawled, his voice oozing concern. “We can’t have that, can we?” Ever the gallant gentleman, he interlaced his arm with hers. “Here, for extra protection. I wouldn’t want a pretty lady shedding tears beside me.”
Mei Mei’s smirk was as satisfied as a serpent after a meal, and she batted her eyelashes coquettishly. “If I were to cry, would you console me?”
“Of course,” Gojo replied smoothly. “Though I might find myself crying should my horse lose. The bets I’ve placed are rather substantial.”
A flirtatious giggle escaped Mei Mei’s lips. “Then I shall cheer with all my might, so you needn’t suffer any losses, my lord.”
You were perilously close to tearing your hair out.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, my lady,” Gojo said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it with exaggerated flourish. “But rest assured, I am quite confident of a victory today. Thunder is swift and cunning, far superior to that... other horse. It’s simple, really—Thunder will win.”
Your composure cracked. “Yuji,” you called, your voice sharp. Your brother, who had been lost in thought, snapped to attention. “Despite the other horse’s popularity, Blaze possesses the one quality universal to all champions: speed and diligence. The track conditions are in its favor.”
Yuji, caught off guard, blinked in confusion. “Yes, of course, sister,” he mumbled, clearly unsure of why you were addressing him.
“And anyone who thinks otherwise,” you continued, raising your voice slightly, “is bound to lose their money. Sorely and simply.”
Gojo matched your tone, his voice ringing out. “But of course, it’s all in good fun. There’s no need for hostility over a sport, is there? Both horses are fine contenders, though I remain convinced Thunder shall emerge victorious.”
Mei Mei tittered, parroting his sentiments, but you could hardly see straight for the anger coursing through you. Unable to hold back, you retorted, “However, it is, after all, still a race. And Blaze will win.”
By now, your exchange had drawn the attention of those around you, including your brothers. Choso and Yuji exchanged puzzled glances before Yuji asked weakly, “Are you still talking to us, sister?” Meanwhile, Choso’s protective instincts flared, his gaze darting suspiciously between you and Gojo.
Before you could reply, the horses lined up at the starting gate, and the crowd collectively rose to their feet, including Gojo. “Steady now, Thunder!” he called out, his voice brimming with confidence.
Not to be outdone, you shouted, “Come on, Blaze!”
The bell rang, and the horses surged forward, the crowd erupting in cheers. Blaze and Thunder quickly pulled ahead, the two horses locked in a fierce battle for the lead. Thunder was currently ahead, its sleek form cutting through the track with precision.
“Steady, Thunder! Keep the lead!” Gojo’s voice was full of excitement, urging his horse onward.
Your heart raced with frustration as Blaze lagged slightly behind. “You can do this, Blaze!” you urged, your voice rising above the din. Without thinking, you began whistling sharply, drawing alarmed looks from your brothers. The stares from the crowd meant nothing to you as you focused solely on the race.
Blaze, as if responding to your encouragement, began to accelerate, its powerful strides eating up the ground between it and Thunder. You noticed Thunder’s pace faltering, fatigue setting in, while Blaze surged ahead, pulling into the lead with a quarter of the race remaining.
Now it was Gojo’s turn to whistle, his voice tinged with desperation. “Straight to the finish line, Thunder! Don’t let up!”
But Blaze only widened the gap, its momentum carrying it farther ahead. You couldn’t contain your laughter, a joyous sound that bubbled up from within as Blaze crossed the finish line first, with Thunder trailing behind.
“Goddamn it,” Gojo cursed under his breath, his frustration palpable. You clapped your hands in delight, your laughter ringing out.
With deliberate grace, you placed your hands on your hips and turned to Gojo, flashing him a triumphant smile. “I’m so glad the ‘simple’ horse won,” you said, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “It seems I’ve finally bested a duke.”
Gojo’s blue eyes bore into you, their intensity searing, but you met his glare with a boisterous laugh, savoring the victory as the crowd’s cheers and claps echoed around you. Until it was only the two of you, staring each other down.
Gojo ⸺ 0, you ⸺ 1.
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Now, Duchess Gojo had always had a penchant for gossip, no one escaping her eye and observation. Of course, it was now the Whistledown era, for the unknown author could observe far more than the high-profile duchess, who was the receiver of much praise and attention due to her son’s eligibility. But this eligibility had only been achieved because of her ability to direct the tide based on her reconnaissance, and in all her years, no could match her sass and direction. Except one. 
"You know, Lady Itadori," the Duchess remarked, her tone laced with feigned pensiveness, "the Gojo manor in the countryside has been dreadfully quiet, and, if I may say, it has been quite some time since we last enjoyed a proper tête-à-tête.”
The two ladies stood together near the stands, choosing a more secluded spot from which to observe the horse race. Lady Itadori, her closest confidante, met the Duchess’s gaze with a gleam in her eye. "Indeed, I must agree."
For a moment, the two women stood in silence, their eyes surveying the scene before them. From the ladies flirting shamelessly to the gentlemen scrambling for the favor of the season’s debutantes, they were like spectators at a grand circus. Yet, their attention was drawn to a particular act.
Raising her fan to her lips, Lady Itadori whispered conspiratorially to the Duchess, "I might add, my diamond has been spending a considerable amount of time in your son’s company."
The Duchess met her friend’s eyes and laughed lightly. "How many days do you wager it will take in the manor?"
Lady Itadori, now fully smirking, gave a delicate shrug. "It took you and the Duke but four days."
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prev. the debutante | next. the manor
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n: reader is hearing boss music rn
forced proximity whatttt
gojo when kuna ripped one in his face
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comment, reblog, and send in an ask to let me know ur thots :3 memes are also appreciated <3
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TAGLIST:
@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati
@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs
@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs
@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun
@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1
@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover
@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur
@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco
@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx
@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2
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davidjcutler · 7 months
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Nightwing x Starfire With lines by David Cutler and colors by the incomparable @missmrah
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dmitriene · 8 months
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THOUGHTS ABOUT BATHING WITH SIMON.
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cw: fluff, comfort, slighty suggestive, established relationship, female and male anatomy, sleepy and soft simon, maybe slighty ooc simon because of his behavior, hard on, intimacy, kisses, bits of a clingy behavior, hints on sex. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader
 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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periodically, getting simon into the bath was a bit of a challenge, not because he was against showering on a schedule, but because he was terribly tired.
being at the base, running around on various missions that, at best, took several weeks, incapacitated any person, and he was no exception, especially once he finally returned home.
he was incredibly glad to return to the warmth of your common harbor only because he could finally rest, without unnecessary noise, without one open eye in case the enemy was unexpectedly close, without annoying and depressing experiences — just a soft bed, you, and your soothing scent.
the slight smell of cologne and ingrained gunpowder tickled your nose when simon buried a slightly uneven line of his nose into the back of your neck, blowing it with periodic warm sighs and thus tickling your skin, while his voluminous, heavy hand was thrown around your waist, literally pressing you into the place near him, he wasn't sleeping, at least not completely, at the moment he was just silently enjoying your presence.
you toss and turn, causing him to pull away from you with a slight dissatisfied growl so that you change your position, facing him when he was already in a hurry to bend down to bury his face in your chest, but you intercept him, the roar of chesty growls is heard throughout the room, frozen in the morning silence, while his light stubble pricks yours warm palms, and you lift his face, seizing the moment to examine his dirty blond hair, which would be nice to wash, his stubble has grown, gunpowder has eaten into his light eyelashes, turning them black to match his bottomless, equally dark brown eyes.
simon frankly doesn’t understand why you don’t let him rest, and you are driven by sincere concern when you stroke the line of his cheekbones, tracing the edges with your fingers and scratching him like a cat, forcing his already barely open brown eyes to close with fluttering eyelashes, snuggling into your warmth and comfort closer, looking for more affection, but you are in a hurry to interrupt him with a whisper from which he frowns, practically jerks back like a dissatisfied kitten, so incomparable to a strong soldier, but this is no less charming, because such a reaction is caused by one simple invitation — «need to clean up, si, you're home already second day and just sleep all the time, i can't even recognize my man anymore»
— «no wanna» he interrupts instantly, childishly leaving the warmth of your palms and immediately turning over to the other side, showing you his bare, wide, slighty pale back, a scattering of scars, barely noticeable moles, even freckles that seem to appear to the eye as a homely canvas when he folds his hands on his chest, slightly tensing his muscles, which immediately go limp when you giggle at his behavior, pressing closer, wrapping your arms around his torso and reverently leaving a warm kiss on the curve of his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles as if under the lips themselves.
— «come on, si, i'll help you, hmm? would make you a warm, bubbly bath, help you wash yourself, give a massage to those aching muscles of yours?» you mumble rather purring, quite seductively, running your fingers along the curve of his muscle and shoulder blades, practically tickling, and he is unable to deny the craving for the way you describe it, making him growl and rise, brushing the blanket off his hips and standing in nothing but in boxers, stretching on the corner of the bed.
— «bloody woman» the only thing he mutters, not at all out of resentment and hostility, but from the realization of how much power you hold over him, forcing him to overcome all laziness and fatigue in order to finally reach the bathroom, shuffling his feet on the floor not even in slippers, throwing open the door when you follow behind him, nothing more than giggling from gloating and his domesticated appearance, just like a lazy, well-fed cat, with crumpled strands of hair, a slight softness on the sides and belly.
the smell of scented bath foam and some kind of scrub caresses your nose with soothing smells when you sit with simon, settled in a slightly narrow, but at the same time comfortable bathtub, he reclines with his arms outstretched on both edges of the snow white ceramic, looking at you sleepily through the flutter of his light eyelashes when you gently rub his chest, washing everything thoroughly, sitting in front of him in a complete nakedness and focusing on his comfort as he traces your every move.
his muscles relaxed, the hot water doing its job of softening him while you rub the scrub into his rough, scarred skin, doing deep cleansing, and he doesn’t even resist or turn his nose, allowing you to absorb the sweetish aroma into him, making his skin completely soft to the touch, as if he had just been born, leaving his hairy chest and strong muscles to go lower and down to his legs.
simon lifts one leg, following your movement, allowing you to stroke it with a washcloth that was floating nearby, applying even more foam on top of the one that was already there, while he only followed with his eyes, looking at your naked breasts and wet nipples, covered with the same foam with warm water and unable to look away, starting to pull his hand, crumpling your hip under the water and pulling you towards him, making you squeak, losing focus — «simon! what's happening, love?»
he simply grumbles, arranging you on his lap to press closer to your wet, warm skin, outlining your waist with his heavy hands, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers with pleasure, burying his nose somewhere in the intersection of your shoulder and chest, limp and relaxed, without raising his head, to which you sigh and just stroke his shoulders, moving to the back of his head and going down to his neck, scratching and purring — «talk to me, si»
he remains silent, as if on purpose, continuing to breathe measuredly into the area of your collarbone and fidget with his lips against the soft flesh, before you feel his limp cock rise slowly, rubbing against your bodies and softly hitting his lower abdomen, straining slightly, thick veins run along the length of his hard cock, the tip slowly gets wet not only from water, but also from sticky precum, and now you understand his excessive clinginess to you, giggling quietly before kissing the top of his head.
he finally raises his head in response to the light touch of your lips to his wet hair, brown eyes look absolutely calm and puppy like, moving to softly kiss your breasts, while his slippery hands change position from your hips to your thighs, stroking, as if silently asking for green color and resolution to go further, but when you tsk, he snorts in disappointment, hitting his forehead against your ribcage.
— «no, si, first i continue to wash you, and then we'll see about this» you tut, taking up the stroke of the back of his neck again, sliding down his back with pressing fingertips, stroking and pressing on the tense muscles before he mumbles — «fine, love..» and lifts his head again, tilting it back along with his back, letting you move on to washing his hands, rubbing in the shower gel and a slightly tingling scrub, as simon's head tilts slightly to the side with quiet breathing, his eyelids growing heavier with a fleeting movement of blonde lashes before he settles into a sensual sleep, his slightly hairy chest heaves with each breath.
as long as you continue to groom him, focusing back on washing his body with the still hot water, moving slightly on his lap before scooping even closer, reaching out to stroke his wet hair and squeeze the shampoo into your palm, rubbing his scalp, massaging and scratching, causing him to growl contentedly and flutter his eyes, seems that he won't be able to continue other activities after such a bath.
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stxrvel · 4 months
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absence (1)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻
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You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.
Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.
Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.
He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.
In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.
Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.
Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.
Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.
They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.
You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.
It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-
“Weren't you supossed to leave?”
You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.
“Huh?”
You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.
“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”
You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.
“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.
“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”
You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.
“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”
“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”
You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.
“I had no idea about life at the time.”
Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.
“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”
You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.
“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”
You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.
You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.
You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.
Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.
Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.
You never recovered from that.
Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.
That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.
“Have you seen them yet??????”
The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.
“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”
“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”
“Wow, speak for yourself.”
“Haven't you seen theeeem?”
Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.
“God, hold still.”
Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.
Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.
“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”
Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.
“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.
Yuna let out an excited exclamation.
“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”
You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.
“We're still on business hours.”
“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.
“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”
Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.
“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”
Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.
The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.
Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...
“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.
“Their car windows were up.”
“So you saw them, right?????”
“Argh.”
You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.
“What's wrong with you?”
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.
“Wasn't that convention today?”
You sighed. “Yes.”
“Then why aren't you there?”
“Do I look like I want to be there?”
“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”
“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”
Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.
On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.
“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”
“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.
“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”
“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”
“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”
Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”
“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”
“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”
You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.
“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”
“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.
“No.”
“y/n, please…”
“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”
“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”
“I never agreed with that!”
“Seojun told me so!”
“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”
“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”
“That was your second mistake.”
“Y/n!”
_____________________
That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.
“y/n, dear, how did it go?”
Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.
“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”
You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.
“Oh, it's teokkboki.”
Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.
“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”
You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.
Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.
With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.
How do I unclog a bath?
Do I add salt to the rice???
Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????
His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.
Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.
Ah, what a long day.
You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.
It was one in the morning!
“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”
“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”
“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”
“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”
“Well, whatever!”
You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.
“You're going to fall on your ass.”
“I'm lying down.”
“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”
Silence. Absorbing silence…
“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”
“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”
“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”
“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”
“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”
“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”
You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.
You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.
There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.
You clicked on his picture on the screen.
Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.
It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.
A description loomed between the image.
One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.
Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.
“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”
With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.
“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”
Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…
“What the fuck?”
--
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7
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mooishbeam · 10 months
Text
『♡』 Besotted
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♡ featuring: yandere!ajax x f!reader
♡ summary: the love of your life knows you without asking, selfless and caring. however, you're slowly starting to realize the man you loved was a mask of the truth hiding underneath. wc: 12.5k+
♡ cw/tw: modern au, mentions of violence/blood, mentions of suicide, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, manipulation, rough sex, sideways sex, cockwarming, mating press, cunnilingus, drugging, overstimulation, praise, pet names (lots of them tbh)
notes: im so sorry i know it took me a long time but my time has been consumed by exams and its finals week soon so ahhhh. it's going to take me a little longer than usual until my semester is over, forgive me!! art by jam8366_dday on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!
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“Caramel macchiato for… Katheryne?” Your quiet voice deadens among the bustling crowd of businessmen, secretaries, and construction workers alike conversing through their morning wake-up. It’s incomparable to the serene appeal of a corner coffee shop—piled high with board games and books, the nooks and crannies decorated with some sort of trinket or knickknack you collected along the way, baubles that brought you joy and spread some to anyone that entered the cozy hole in the wall—“The Mad Hatter”. People are free to add stickers to the cash register, so convoluted with color similar to graffiti, including the pink-hatted cat Lyney glued to the top. Coffee tables share space with buoyant sofas, opposite of the display case viewing a multitude of extra sweet desserts and breakfast sandwiches. At night, the fairy lights bordering the wide veiled windows glimmered a dim hue that made feathery snow sparkle like stars during winter. You set the coffee under warm lights dotting the ceiling, emanating above the wooden interior. No one is finicky for your tastes; you are happy to see the familiar cheerful or grumpy faces entering the shop. You remember names, faces, and minute personal details they’d forgotten they shared over a steaming cup of latte left to warm because the art was too pretty to drink. They’re busy, but patient; they've acquainted you long enough to not be angry at the wait, and most times come to your defense against unruly customers. 
It's the worst—or for you, the best—in the afternoons, swarming crowds waiting for an afternoon pick-me-up. You and Lyney work to the best of your ability, serving up group orders with a quickness unparalleled by nearby chain coffeehouse’s. You regard it as your passion, although your parents were disappointed when you told them you and Lyney would be buying and renovating an abandoned property states over all for coffee; your delectable drinks have the potential to form long lasting relationships between you and other customers, and there’s a certain creative merit you relish whenever a guest takes pictures of the swan-like artistry foaming on the surface. The taste of bitter beans sparks moments of merriment, longing, and love—in some cases, it’s the best form of intimacy.  
Your best memories live in this shop; the ground powder that scattered everywhere and painted Lyney like a chocolate sculpture when he tried to push the inventory to the highest shelf or staying up after close in the middle of a blizzard to make flimsy homemade decorations for the grand opening with help from Lynette. 
It’s extra special that the very place you stand is where you found the love of your life. You met him at the register, loose curls dipped in autumn tones spilling over his long lashes. The void in his eyes motionless like the ocean before a low tide. You both stared at each other for a moment, taking in the lines and details of your flustering faces. You must’ve been staring for too long, as Lyney tapped your shoulder with a side eye that alerted you to the awkward silence and line heading out the door. You fumbled for apologies and took his order; the ginger boy chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck—Ajax—such a rugged name for a pretty guy. You prepared the Frappuccino with a drizzle of affection bespoken for him. When you gave him the drink, his hand grazed against yours, a kiss without lips. It left you breathless, and with an airy coyness he said, “I didn’t get your name?” You told him, and he tried out the sound on his tongue. You wished he’d say it over and over. With a rosy wash across his cheeks, “A fitting name for your beauty. Have a good day, (Y/N)” was all he said before he walked away, leaving you stunned and smitten. Lyney was the unfortunate victim that dealt with your wearisome fantasizing about Ajax. 
But Ajax already knew your name. And address, and friends.  
How could he not? When he saw you hanging lights in the windows on a particularly sunny morning that made your glowing face shine with pure radiance unrivaled by deities, he sunk endlessly. He vowed to walk at a distance at that same time every day to ogle your lustrous hair, your soft skin that didn’t break a sweat, the curve of your lips. You soon became an itch he couldn’t scratch, a plaguing thought that wiggled in the wrinkles of his brain and made it hard to sleep or work. You, you, you. Is your laugh a heavy snort or more lighthearted, do you have the same sense of humor as him? You’ll like what he likes, think what he thinks. 
You were constantly on his mind, he wondered if you were eating when he ate or how good you were sleeping as he drifted off to his. It’s not his fault that he snapped discrete pictures of your smiling face, you were too adorable to ignore. He valued coming home to kneel at the little shrine he made of your printed gaiety, surrounded by consistently fresh roses and citrus candles he thought you’d smell like. If he stood close enough, it was like you were right in front of him. The apron tied around your waist was a vibrant crimson—his favorite color. It's fate, the way the stars aligned and sent angels down to bless you with a pinafore of his approval. You had to know he was out there; he was already imagining returning to a cheerful home, and your swaying hips as you whipped up a glacé delight. He’d kiss you on the cheek, and you’d pop a tart blueberry in his mouth. Yes—it had to be this way, it must be what you wanted, too. 
Ajax coincidentally found himself rummaging through trash cans in the vicinity for an inkling of receipts from the shop. He stumbled upon it, of course—it’s not like he waited out until nightfall right before garbage day to have the highest chances of finding identification. The jagged fragment of a receipt led to your family, social media, and blogs you dedicated to your baking progress. And he’d monitor the sites on different screens with multiple tabs, an infatuated glaze over those dull eyes that kept him glued to the updates for hours. He made many accounts, liking your posts fervently with flimsy justifications of encouragement. You became reachable day by day. 
The day Ajax decided to pursue you upfront, it was a dream he hoped never to wake. He’d rehearsed it obsessively until the moment he stood in front of the glass door, a tremble in his restless legs at the thought of looking ridiculous. Seeing you up close felt like a special occasion. His heart was beating off-kilter in his quaking chest, as if jumping free fall out of a plane, and he held his breath until it opened. The confidence he mustered up before he got to the register did little to suppress the giddiness rolling in his veins. His pulse paced the closer he got. Two more orders and there you were; the center of his universe, and you didn’t know it yet. Pictures didn’t do you justice—no, he needed to see your grace preserved in museums depicted in rich Renaissance paintings onlookers could only fantasize holding or loving, but you’d be for him, and him alone. He drew a blank. “May I get your name for the order?” His eyes flickered with a brand-new luster, it melded certainty and delusion.  
She wants...my name.  
My name.  
The sweet harmony of your words lulled Ajax to an addicting turbid spiral that swept fondness through the tempest and scattered infatuation in its aftermath. A feeling too tenacious, it must be love. The incessant burn urged him to protect and guide you to him. You need him. Now he watched compulsively with a winded jaw, your smile to other men who couldn't compare to his devotion. They don’t know you like he does. He could map out the corners of your house from the slim backgrounds of your blog posts or name every club you’ve participated in since middle school. Hunger spread where his fists craved contact, like sunfire corroding the taught skin on his knuckles. They’ve breathed your air and existed in your presence. It’s undeserved, they’re unworthy. 
How fucking dare they. 
How lost you must be without him, led astray by intruding greed; he selflessly assumed his responsibility. You are his, after all. So, he stalked behind cars shadowed by harsh streetlamps to ensure you got home safe and intercepted your packages to check for threatening substances. The accomplishment he felt whenever he completed his—in his words, “duties”—instilled exultation beyond any memory. Within the envelopes, he’d leave an elegant note embellished with hearts hinting at his infatuation and the care he put in to maintain your safety. One letter turned to two, then five, to the point where you’d receive a sleeve stuffed with increasingly unhinged letters from your secret admirer that fanned out when you tipped it. 
On Christmas Eve, a limitless cloak of frozen stardust decided to flurry right before your shift ended. You covered Lyney’s shift so he’d have time to spend with Lynette and Freminent; it wasn’t like you had anything to do afterwards. You counted the flakes of the storm through frosted glass, thinking about the wellbeing of your family back home. Mailed gifts couldn't console the grief you felt during the holidays. A knock on the door turned your attention to the silhouette of a man wearing a slouched beanie with a pompom on top. You unlocked the door, and it swung open from the whirling heft of wind and smattered white across the wood from empty streets. 
“Sorry, we just closed-” You looked up, no time to register the freckled face from months ago, that stole your heart with a smile. Icy grains kissed his cheeks, as red as apples, and fused to the wool scarf draped around his trench coat. “Oh! Hello, again.” You tried to play it off, but the crack in your voice teetered. You were suddenly nervous. Ajax grinned hard and shuffled slightly inwards to escape the chill.  
“Hi (Y/N)! I was really hoping you weren’t closed, it’s a good day to grab a hot chocolate, y’know?” 
“It is. You’re probably freezing, please come in.” You should’ve been home by now, but for Ajax, you could spare a few minutes. He unraveled his winter attire to reveal a tightly fitted turtleneck and took a seat at the chair closest to you. You wrap around the counter and start the kettle, struggling with what to do next at the gaze gripping your mind. “One hot chocolate, coming up.” 
“How much I owe ya?” he chirped, arms resting on the table while he watched you grab two mugs. “No worries, it’s on the house. Consider it your Christmas present.” 
“I appreciate that, thank you. You really are kind...Lyney left you by yourself tonight?” You wondered how he knew Lyney’s name when they hadn’t met, but quickly brushed it off. 
“Yeah, I wanted him to spend time with his family.” 
“And you don’t have any here?” You didn’t retain your usual weariness towards acquaintances. On this lonely night Ajax didn’t feel like much of a stranger. 
“Nah, moved away to start this.” Your hands gestured to the quaint interior. Ajax scanned his surroundings, marveling at the scenery before he spoke. “What you’ve done with this, it’s lovely. Your ambition and dedication are apparent from the way you treat the customers, I can tell you’re passionate about what you do.” Your body flared like summer and succeeded in hushing the breeze. You poured a cup full of thick cocoa and plopped a dollop of whipped cream on both. “It’s not much, but-” the mugs settled on the table, and you sat across from him. “It smells amazing, (Y/N). You’re an expert at this” he interrupted. You traced the rim with your finger and rested your head on the other hand. 
“Thanks...I assume you don’t have family here, either? Think you’d be ripping open gifts by now if you did.” He took another sip. “Yup, they live in a different country. I should visit them soon” he sighed and glanced at the jumbled wool scarf. “Did a sibling make that for you?” you asked. 
“Yeah, my sister. A parting gift.” 
“It’s beautiful, she’s very talented” you remarked, admiring the delicate fleece. The bittersweet smile in response stuck to your heartstrings. “She is.” 
You both drank in silence and occasionally met each other's eyes, only to turn away. Something unsaid hung in the air. "Winter has a way of making us reminisce. It’s so depressing” you confided. You hadn’t told Lyney, but you were terribly lonely these past months. You replaced your emotions with extra shifts, but they came crashing down in the darkness of your bedroom. Ajax gazed at you like he could see through you. 
“The sky appears magnificent under the snow's embrace. Its purity is like the moon's gentle radiance. I don’t think there’s anything like a world covered in snow" he soothed. His words flustered you, and you homed in on the white trails dancing in your lukewarm cup. 
“I’ve never thought of it like that. I used to hate snow. It feels...intruding, I guess.” 
“But if we don’t allow ourselves to be intruded, how will we love?” he blurted. It was comforting to hear in the moment, and you returned his smile. 
“Is the hot chocolate good?” you asked. 
“It’s perfect.... you’re perfect.” You chuckled at the notion, mistaking it for pity. “I’m not perfect.” 
“But you are. The way you carry yourself, your intelligence, your courtesy. You’re flawless, gorgeous inside and out and you don’t even notice.” The way Ajax looked at you, on the verge of his seat and studying your face, lips, and hair. You couldn’t deny the flattery that drowned you and dragged you the more he persisted. “How would you know from one encounter?” His mouth fixed to say it, the truth, but he tight-lipped and reached into his coat pocket instead. He grabbed a blue velvet box and slid it to you. 
“I wanted to give you this. Ever since I saw you.” It felt expensive under your fingertips. You unclasped the front, and it opened to a twinkling pendant. It was a cable chain dangling an oval sapphire gem, with 18 karat white-gold halo sunbursts surrounding it. It’s breathtaking, as if stolen from the tomb of a goddess. 
“Wow, this is...stunning. Ajax, I can’t accept this; it’s too much” you pressured. You’ve never received a gift of this caliber from anyone, it didn’t feel right to look at it. 
“Consider it your Christmas present” he repeated. You shook your head and held up the box to hand it back to him. “I can’t, I shouldn’t-” 
“Please” he pleaded. He clasped your hands, a reassuring thumb gently caressing yours. You were so focused on its extravagance that you didn’t notice the note stuck to the roof of the box. Refined script dotted with hearts; the same style as the hundreds in your closet. Your mouth gaped. 
“This letter...you...have you been the one sending me all those love letters?” You should've had your suspicions, or the urge to back away, but you weren’t afraid. You tried to string together his ability to find your address or mail, or how he knew Lyney, but your brain couldn’t clear the fog of feeling loved after so many years. It’s a warm hug to the blood that instinctively ran cold. Your heartbeat’s fast, half with anxiety and the other with desire. 
Ajax solemnly hung his head and retracted his hands. He fidgeted with his thumbs. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, I thought about being upfront, but I was so scared of your response and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought maybe if I sent them anonymously you could start liking the person behind it or if I played my cards right you’d find out who it was...but that doesn’t make any sense now that I’m thinking about it, I just wanted to be near you. You’re so amazing and smart and beautiful, I just...s-sorry…I’m rambling. I hope you can understand; I-I didn’t mean to harm I just want to make sure you’re safe” he choked. The strained words tumbled over one another and broke in places, where they traveled off at the end. Ajax averted your eyes, pools of tears threatening to fall from the corners. The sudden mood change took you off guard, and you reached for his guilty hands. You were on the verge of divulging your entirety for him, be it the isolation of the big city or lack of attention. He didn’t seem like a bad guy; he might have been misguided. What’s the harm in giving him a chance? 
“It’s okay, Ajax. I’m not upset, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered” you giggled. “The letters are sweet, I read all of them. They make me feel a little better about living in a shithole apartment. Thank you.” He looked at you, bottomless intensity searching for more. “I’m interested in you, too” you added. 
“Then you’ll be my girlfriend?” It was phrased as a question but arrived as a proclamation. “...I would love that.” 
Ajax moved around the table. You rose to wrap your arms around his neck while he squeezed your waist with his head lying on your shoulder. The duping tears vanished like they didn’t exist, and his shameful expression morphed into a conniving smirk stretching unnaturally in his triumph. Your authentic touch, the smell of perfume wafting in his nose. It’s not citrus, but it’s you. You, everything is you. This is how things were meant to be. His eyes curved like arches from sheer elation, biting his lip to stifle the cackle. You’re together, at last. 
The snow stopped some time ago, but the blizzard was just beginning. 
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Your relationship with Ajax progressed fast after that day. A weariness dulled within you after you came to your senses from your prior confession, and you weren’t sure about the stability of his neurotic nature. However, when Ajax showed up with a bouquet of the loveliest flowers you’ve ever laid eyes on during an exhausting shift, it shined above all else. He showers you with consistent love and attention and worships the ground you walk on with doting devotion. He's clingy and somewhat suffocating, but his sick adoration blesses you with rose-colored glasses; you’re divinity on a golden pedestal in his eyes, and if he fell hard, you fell harder. The considerate, caring, good listener he is makes the small hiccups go over your head. In the first few months you were unequivocally enamored, the kind that tied your universe to his. You patter about him to Lynette, who gives you half-concerned approval at the story of how you met and the “little things” you cherish.  
Like when he allowed you to move in without a second thought. The paint chipped around dodgy windowsills and fraying carpets, and your landlord wouldn’t pay for the fixes. Unfortunately, you needed a place to stay and couldn’t afford to speak up about the horrible conditions. You were used to your slumlord at that point, but the absence of working heat and busted appliances led you to the arms of your boyfriend, sobbing about the stress your landlord subjected you to. He scooped you like fragile glass as you faltered through shaky breaths grating your lungs and hushed your distress. Kissing your head, he rubbed your back and mumbled into your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of it...I’ll take care of everything.”  
A week later you’d found out that your landlord died from a gruesome suicide, and all tenants had to leave the auctioned duplex. Ajax took you in, and you began adapting to his midtown townhouse. Though you felt like a mooch at first, the welcoming interior had you snuggling between his downy bedding in no time. He shouldered your burden, accepted your genuine self and lavished generous replacements of the items you couldn’t carry. You don’t lift a finger around him, and he readily cooks and cleans for your comfort. 
You’ve gotten accustomed to his presence. When you wake, he’s either watching you sleep silently or preparing food for you to take to work. Ajax follows you around like an obedient pet, smoothing your hair and highlighting how beautiful you look in your rough post-morning wake-up state. He’ll try to kiss you before toothpaste, and you playfully mush his disappointed face off to get dressed. He compensates by kissing in other places, your clothed knee as he ties your shoes or your hands when they interlock. Prior to departing, he attaches that sapphire elegance to your neck. You grab your tidy lunchbox and stroll together in the early hours of the morning for your opening shift. “Have a good day, baby” he says, and places sugary smooches from your lips to your forehead and back again. You’d stand there forever, embracing his warmth if your alarm didn’t notify you to start prepping.  
When Ajax isn’t around, and you’re busy piping frosting onto cakes, there’s a profound hole in your happiness that can’t be filled with buttercream. The way his nose scrunches when he laughs hard, and those hot honey strands tickling your cheeks when you sleep because his face is directly on top of yours make you crave his sight and touch. Sometimes you ponder what you’ve done to deserve someone so over the moon for you. Hell, you’d give him the moon if that’s what he wanted; it’d barely cover a fraction of the benevolence he’s evinced. For now, you blink distraction away, and there's spread sloppily piled over the cakes and countertop. You simper to yourself; such a handsome, tender handful. 
Your daydreams carry you through close, and you and Lyney remain as you wipe down tacky tables with rags lathered in disinfectant. You’re circling surfaces with vigor, quick to move to the next. You hear him laugh from another table. “Okay, speed cleaner. Missing your house husband?” he teases. You roll your eyes and pretend to throw the rag at him. “Hurry up, I wanna go home.” He fake cowers and throws his hands up in surrender. “Yes ma’am. Don’t waste all your strength, Lynette will be upset if you can’t dance with her tomorrow.”  
“I’m not some old woman, Lyn. I can party.” You force away the memory of sleeping on Lyney’s shoulder in the lounge area of a booming club. 
“Sure, grandma. Don’t forget your cane when I pick you up” he jokes. You chortle, and actually throw the rag this time. Too bad his agile form dodges it. “I gotta let Ajax know.”  
“...Right.” Lyney loses momentum and stares at the steaming bucket for a pregnant pause, stirring the rag to buy time. You glance towards him, and he shifts a peccant look. You turn on your heels and lean on the back of a chair. 
“Spill it” you demand.  
“Spill what?” 
“What you actually wanna say.” Lyney bites the inside of his cheek to physically restrain the itch that vents brutal honesty. “I don’t think you’ll like what I have to say.” 
You narrow your brows and sigh in disbelief. “So what? We’ve been friends since high school, just tell me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and gulps a deep breath. “Lyney.” 
“It’s about Ajax” he exhales. “Oh.”  
“I’m worried about you.” You weren’t expecting the serious air, it sounds like an intervention. It's unnatural coming from your easygoing friend. 
“Really? Why?” you question. He blinks for a few moments, dumbfounded at the innocent audacity, or willful ignorance. 
“Some of the stuff you say about him...it creeps me out. How is it not creeping you out?” he stresses, gawking at the exorbitant gem. 
“Hmm, I’m not sure what you mean.” To you, Ajax isn’t the scary type. Mysterious maybe, but his affection prevents you from seeing him as anything but the missing half of your soul. 
“Okay. You don’t remember telling me how he kept that rotting coffee cup from when you guys first met? Or how he watches you sleep? He made your favorite meal first try and called it a ‘lucky guess?’” The more he goes on, the more disbelieved he becomes.  
“I think it’s romantic” you chide. He expels his frustration. 
“(Y/N), I'm not saying any of this to be a hater, but all of this is unhealthy. Unhealthy might be an understatement. I mean, the man acts like he can't live without you. What if you were to break up, can you be sure he won't lose his fucking mind?” The hypothetical calamity of separation sinks seeds in puddles of doubt. It’s not possible. 
“We love each other. That won’t happen.” 
“It’s been over a year, and you know nothing about him. He comes out of nowhere, sweeps you off your feet, love bombs you, and you take it at face value. Maybe he truly is the one and it’s love at first sight, but this whole situation is...odd. I care about you, (Y/N), and this guy scares me. He’s hiding something.” You attempt to formulate a fact you’ve learned about him, a detail to prove how close you’ve gotten, and come to realize there’s none in your reservoir. You know naught of his friends or family or wealth. Ajax tells you safe verities, like his favorite food and hobby. You don’t thirst for personal space or secrets when it comes to Ajax, and the stygian plunge in his eyes gives you no hints, but you believe the pleasing words that escape his lips either way.  
You glance at the empty Tupperware on the counter, that was once packed with a hefty sandwich and strawberries carved into hearts. He's effortlessly adorable, a small berry-stained note with a simple phrase: "you'll do great today <3". Your dream man, he wouldn't hide things from you, you won’t fathom the thought. “I-” 
Ding 
That dazzling toothy gapped grin spreads warmth across your chest and the room instantly feels a bit brighter. Ajax saunters like he owns the place, engulfing your frame in his stature and placing a kiss on your head. Lyney freezes though Ajax ignored his existence. “I’m getting ready to leave” you muffle into the musky denim jacket. He nods, but his action won’t follow his hands sturdy on your waist as you shimmy out. You make haste to the back room, past the pantry dry goods and collect your sweater and bag. 
You’re about to push open the swinging door when you pause, catching a glimpse of Ajax and Lyney through the oval window. They don’t normally interact in the same space, and you thought it best to respect their boundaries. Ajax is turned away from you, but you can see Lyney clear as day, a stone solid unease skipping on his skin that makes calculated breaths too obvious. It’s silent enough to hear a pin drop. His arms are stuck to the sides, and you observe the apron jumbled in his clutches shaking ever so slightly. He’s trained to the hickory grain of the floor, and from a small portion of Ajax’s visible face, it’s a dreadful expression unbeknownst to you.  
There’s an almost tenebrous loom towering over Lyney, and you feel an alarming shiver settle in your lower spine. Were his eyes normally this gloomy? Your heart rate palpitates when it shouldn’t. You want to look away from the swirling dark depths possessing your soulmate, shooting daggers at your friend. His jaw is clenched to popping, veins on his neck and hands chasing bone. He has a lethal grip on Lyney’s shoulder, and the rough tension pulls at the wrinkling undershirt. But he sneers—a twisted, coiling kind that doesn’t match his glare—an impersonation of affability. 
“Ajax” you mutter softly as you sway the door. He turns sharply, and it’s like a flipped switch. The rage decays to ash swiftly and he’s yours again, your adoring admirer. “I'm ready.” He waits for your approach and tangles your hands. You make your way out, freeing Lyney from capitivity. He holds the door open for you to leave, and you shout “Bye, Lyn! I’ll see you tomorrow.” A shell-shocked cast on his face, he doesn’t say a word. 
You sit at the dining table, feeling disconnected from reality while the kitchen rises with a clatter of pans and glass. You scroll through posts on your phone and occasionally peek over at the corridor to watch Ajax work. His passion shows when he cooks, rocking the skillet to upturn the veggies sizzling within. His broad back flexes with skillful movements, and he looks at you, winking with a teasing pucker on his glossy lips. You giggle. I was just imagining things. 
He slides the plates on the table and sits across from you. Ajax sits like a giddy child waiting for you to try their creation, and you take the first bite. The bountiful flavor dances on your tongue. “It’s really good!” you muffle through bites. A tinge of pink sets on his cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.” 
You chew haphazardly out of focus. You can’t help but notice how quiet your phone has been since you’ve moved in, it feels foreign in your possession. Not a single call from your friends came through, forgotten and invisible. You contemplate apologizing to Lyney tomorrow, it was wrong to get defensive towards compassion. Ajax interrupts his eating to track your fork picking at the meal. 
“You okay, sweetheart? You aren’t eating.” 
You awake from your trance. “Huh? Oh, nothing. Just feels kinda off.” Ajax’s back straightens, and he tenses throughout at a semblance of negative diction. “What does? The food? I’ll remake it” he stumbles. 
“No no, the food is great. It’s, I don’t know. I haven’t got a call from Tiggy in a while.” The corners of Ajax’s mouth contort. 
“Really...I heard he’s been hangin’ out with some new people.” His tone is dry, it strives to be nonchalant. His elbows rest on the table, and he carves his knife into bloody steak like struggling living bone. 
“So, I guess that means he can’t message me anymore, huh” you chuckle. He twists the knife deeper, as if it’s digging in his back. “He’s just a bad friend honestly. Not consistent, you even said he missed your birthday last year. Who needs a friend like that?” 
“I guess.” Meanwhile, you flip through your contacts searching for Tighnari’s name; come to find out he’s nowhere in your phone. In fact, a lot of messages and numbers seemed to have dwindled over time. Your own parents, vanished. Perhaps you were so overworked you’d forgotten they deleted. You start scouring for his profile, but it doesn’t come up. You can’t imagine Tighnari wiping out his entire presence, and it’s not just him. Outside him are the piles of male friends you seldom locate, and you become flustered at your blindness. You look at Ajax, and his eyebrows quirk up to inquire about your confusion. 
“That’s so weird. I should try calling him-” 
“Don't.” It’s not suggestive, its one note, stern demand. It rings in your ears, and when that mask slips for a terrifying moment, you hold your breath until it recurs. “’S not that I don’t want you to, honey. He clearly doesn’t care in the first place, that’s not a sign of a good friend. I’m just trying to help; you know I always have ou- your best interest.” There’s an unrelenting pit in your stomach telling you it’s wrong. “You seem tense since we left, Ajax. Are you alright?” He stops, it leaves you on edge when a formidable shadow casts over his eyes from his bangs that make them look as endless as the bottom of the sea.  
“I feel like...you’re straying away from me. You’re becoming more secretive. Have I done something to violate your trust?” You don’t consider how Ajax knew Tighnari, let alone how he’d find the password to your phone. It was your fault, it had to be. The solemn quiver of his lips clears your suspicion. You’d forget it all to see him happy again. You stand and sway to his side of the table, sitting on his lap to take his face in your hands. “Not at all, babe. My phone’s been acting up, I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just asked because you and Lyney looked high-strung. ‘M sorry.” You kiss him softly with reassurance, and he melts in your touch. The foggy residue shows on his blushing face, and you introduce another to his cheek. “I’m going to a party with Lyney and Lynette tomorrow, so I wanted to see if Tiggy would come.” 
“Ah...okay. Don’t worry, darling, it was a short conversation.” Vague and unassuming, but it didn’t matter now. Ajax can’t deceive you. 
The state you drifted off—lying on Ajax’s chest with his arms embracing your lax figure—is not how you awake. A piercing scream rises, and you jump out of bed in a drowsy stupor. “Ajax?” you addle. Metal clangs to the floor, and the sheets hang low on your hips before you dart down the stairs and through the dining room to discover the cause of the noise.  
He’s kneeling on the kitchen tile, compressing his forearm. Vermillion overflows between his fingers and palm and spatters his shirt. The knife, along with a clumsily chopped apple, is muddy with blood. “Oh my god!” You sprint for a towel and first aid kit crammed underneath the kitchen sink. When you return, Ajax is hissing from the sting, salty tears smeared on his eyelashes. You accompany him on the floor, ignoring the crime scene peppering the cabinets and gently glide his hands to get free view of the wound. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, now that you’re here.” It’s a nasty cut, not a gash but painful, nonetheless. You bring him to wash the excess blood, and pat it dry carefully. The fizz from disinfectant makes his arm jolt, but you hold him steady to apply. As you bandage his arm, he blinks away the twinge.  
“I’m sorry, baby. You have work in a few minutes, and you’re here taking care of me. Go ahead and get ready, I’ll do it.” 
“No way in hell am I leaving you like this. Don’t apologize” you insist, the end of your wrap stuffed to secure. You can’t conceive clocking in or partying tonight while Ajax suffers at home. “I’m gonna call out for a couple days so I know you’re well. Relax, I’ll be right back, okay?” He nods, and you rush to the bedroom to retrieve your phone. Ajax wipes his face on his sleeve, streaking insincere sorrow near the serpentine smirk. 
You spent the day cleaning the home, wiping the kitchen top to bottom and making dinner for Ajax. He rests in bed, and you often check in on him. Treating him like an intensive care patient might’ve been excessive, but he accepts your gentle touch and hand fed meals nursing him back to health. You’re lying in bed with him, and the load of his brawny chest forces yours into the mattress with your legs on either side. You massage the pads of your fingers into his scalp, and your breathing weighted blanket emits a groan. Dazed and fully lax, lulling from the rise and fall of your chest. 
The second day is the same, but the lack of pressure divides your dreary lids. It’s midnight, and it casts a fluorescent glow that permeates the room. You feel your way from walls to banister, and as you’re about to step down the stairs to get water, you pause before the living room. Crouched, peeking through the bars of the banister, you see Ajax on the couch in absolute quiet. Shade stands in place of his facial features, obscured besides the hazy veneer in his iris that bores into the journal in front of him. The collage catches moonbeams on the coffee table, crowded with tiny notes that peak out the uniform pages, and polaroid pictures glued to each sheet, stacked so thick it can’t close. He uses the pen you thought you’d lost moving in, running his tongue over the older bite marks on its base. Squinting your eyes fails at registering the specifics. 
You suck in a breath and take another step, hoping the unreliable foundation won’t give way to whining wood. He skims across the words as if they’re memorized, and crows to himself. Eeeeir. It conforms, and the minute you press into it and that haunting sound whispers through the house, Ajax cracks his neck to your position. You stiffen, a deer in headlights. He puts down the pen. 
“Oh, darling. I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he coos. You shoot to a stand, and Ajax meets you at the bottom of the staircase. “I-I just wanna get some water.” You feel meek and small, fairly avoiding his gaze. He enfolds your jaw with his bad arm like it doesn’t hurt, and pecks you on your forehead, light with anxious sweat. “I can get that for you, dear.” Before he can go, you interrupt. 
“Ajax.” 
“Hm?” 
“The book over there, did you make it?” He alternates between you and the book and glisters his pearly whites. He delicately hauls it to you, “I was going to wait for it to be done, but you can read it now if you want.” You hesitate. You aren’t sure if you want to read it. Regardless, you ferry it in your arms, hefty despite being incomplete. 
You unfurl the cover. 
Page after page, your pulse pumps sonorously in your ears, uncontrollable where goosebumps surge through ebbing limbs. Without a doubt, you’re frightened. Aghast, gaping mouth with eyes the size of dinner plates. Dating from your first encounter, poems and chaotic paragraphs of infatuation. Your sleeping silhouette, columns of reverence, strands of your hair taped like art—pictures of you you’ve never seen taken behind cars and lamp posts.  
The lengthy muddled captions emphasize how beautiful you are, how gracious you must be, because he hadn’t met you yet. On top of it all, written repeatedly in red and smothered in hearts, “I love you (Y/N)”. You don’t want to hold it. It’s broiling on your palms; you want it thrown in fire and scorched to shriveling. It almost reads as a manifesto, with jumbled threats sprinkled above overriding ink. Brutal crimes he’d commit if you were ever harmed, the gory actions he envisioned doing to your male customers. It’s incoherent and unorganized. The last page you flip to etches drought in your throat; A dried scrap of the towel you used to tend to his injury is taped inside. A new entry: 
“ (Y/N) takes care of me! without her I am nothing  my sun and star        ♡    my blood and bone           ♡  ♡ my goddess, my angel,   the very essence of my existence     ♡        ♡     my love is infinite and eternal   you are destined to be mine   ♡     ♡        forever, forever she is mine ”  
You peek up from the book, not prepared to face the source. Ajax ogles you with heart eyes that can’t contemplate the absurdity. They surround you, limit you from speaking undulating panic. Part of you is fearful, the other reserves pure love you still have for him.  
“Do you like it, honey?” No, you hate it. It’s scary and not the man you fell in love with. But those sonnets and odes dripping in honey—descriptions that trickle raw vulnerability and expose his truest intentions—are hard to detest when he treasures you earnestly. His expression, he’ll shatter to flecks if you devastate him. So, you scrape back the bile and oblige a strained smile. 
“I love it, Ajax. Thank you.” 
You’re excited to be at work, and relieved to see Lyney. His banter distracts you from the overbearing air at home. Ajax proceeds like nothing happened, or at least nothing for him. It’s fresh in your mind, torments your thoughts as you get ready for the day. His bare chest hugs you from behind while your brush your teeth and he trails groggy kisses from your shoulder to your jaw. It leaves heat on your ears, and dread in your stomach. The necklace going around you is a cage. 
Closing arrives, and you start wrapping things up. 
“Could you get the dark roast box?” Lyney asks from the bookshelf. 
“Heard” you reply, strolling to storage to find that unnamed box squeezed beside larger product. Balancing the contents, you swing open the door, and let out a gasp to your shock. 
“(Y/N)!” Hollers from the dining area. Collei, Tighnari, and astoundingly, Zhongli swarm near Lynette and Freminent. They’re removing their sweaters, but you don’t give Collei or Tighnari time before you charge at them with an immovable hug.  
“Tiggy, Collei! Oh my god!” She welcomes your embrace, and you hear a labored sigh from Tighnari as he tries to pry your arms. “You might fracture my ribs if you keep hugging so tight.” Collei chuckles, and you break the reunion. “I missed you so much!” she bubbles, practically doing happy feet to exert her enthusiasm. You move to Zhongli and greet him with a lukewarm “Hello.” 
Zhongli, your college boyfriend. The terms you ended on were neither good nor bad. He was a cold selfish player, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Unfortunately, he got clumsy with the surplus of women he juggled, and you found out you were a number among many. You shed misery in front of his dorm room, and he stilled a detached glare whilst you shouted through its paper-thin halls with unfiltered rage. It was one of the worst moments of your life. A couple years down the line, and you’ve learned to forgive him for his disrespectful, arrogant attitude.  
“You look well” he charms with silky bass. “I am.” 
The couple hours you spend catching up and playing board games goes fluently. Tighnari, Lynette, and Freminent rib about the rules they established mid-way through their card game, and you and Collei sit enchanted by the cozy villager simulation on her handheld console. One of her legs is on top of yours, and you’re leaning in her space. Zhongli can’t catch your sight, purposely projecting louder than usual as he enjoyed a drink made by Lyney. 
“She’s so cute! What’s that one called?” 
“Merengue, she’s my favorite.” 
“Hope Merengue helps you with your PhD thesis” Tighnari intrudes, followed by an annoyed sigh at the “+2” card Freminent puts down. 
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” 
“I didn’t know you were going for a PhD, that’s great” you praise. 
“I guess you wouldn’t know, since you don’t bother to call. Had to find out how you’re doing from Lyney” he jokes. You tilt your head. “Me? You have me blocked on everything.” 
“You don’t come up for me either. I’ve tried calling you a few times, but it went to voicemail. I assumed you had a new phone” Collei supports. You reply with a dry chuckle, and navigate accounts you blocked, evidence they were restricted. It concludes with blank lists where their names should appear. Nothing, not even a way to add them again. This whole ordeal makes you feel like you’re going crazy. You feel bile filling the chambers of your throat, accompanied by a distinct unsettling swell on your temples. Collei notices your furrowed brows and rubs your back. 
“Is everything alright?” Her voice is removed from static hammering your eardrums. 
“Uh, y-yes. I need some water.” You move to the register, where Lyney is wiping down the counter. He slides you a water bottle from the mini fridge. “Don’t throw up, I just cleaned this.” 
“I’ll do my best” you retort. He slants to you, whispering, “Sorry about Zhongli, they didn’t tell me he was tagging along.” You wave it off and take a swig.  
“We gotta talk later. You were right...he’s hiding something.” He gives a comforting nod, and a slender hand enters your peripheral vision.  
“You mind making another, Lyney?” 
“God, you’re insatiable” he complains, and takes Zhongli’s cup for a refill.  
“You both did an outstanding job with the café. It’s homely.” You snort, head resting on your hand. “Is that your way of saying it’s shit?” 
Zhongli frowns, “I’m being serious, I’m proud of what you’ve done here.” 
“Interesting. I’m surprised this isn’t a downgrade to you.” 
“Anything you contribute to is an automatic upgrade.” That sad attempt at flirtation makes you scoff. “Guess your post-college affairs aren’t as frequent if you’re stooping this low.” Maybe you weren’t over it completely. 
“How many times must I apologize?” 
“Until you die.” 
“I’m willing to do that, as many times as it takes.”  
You huff, “It doesn’t matter, Zhongli. I’m in a relationship.” 
“Are you happy?” You don’t have a quip for that question, and it rains on your emotions when you consider it. A flower struggles to bloom through intense downpours. 
“Of course I am.” His smile is frail, and he places a mellow hand on your shoulder. “Then he has all he could ever ask for.”  
The door abruptly opens. Collei’s holding it, and behind it, is Ajax. Dire tension hangs in the air, arid like the anticipation of disaster. Faint smirk and murky glower; the swirling spiral coaxes the same fear you felt last night, and the previous days. His face can’t decide what demeanor to convey, it forces gladness where darkness veils his stare. You tread away from Zhongli, praying he didn’t see the hand that was on you moments ago. Your friend's wave, but he doesn’t return the friendly gesture, instead firing a shaded cast of disgust. He saunters to you with wrenched posture, and each step makes your heart race. 
“Sweetheart, you didn’t answer the phone. I was worried.” He guides you to him by your lower waist. Zhongli watches as Ajax kisses the corner of your mouth, and you beam from the one that tickles your nose. “’M sorry, not feeling so good.” 
“You didn’t tell me you’d be at a party.” 
“It was a surprise.” 
“Ah, I see. These are your friends?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 
“Yeah, from back home.” 
“Hello” Zhongli chimes in, holding out his hand to shake. Ajax methodically turns his head to him. You swear you see a vein popping out of his forehead, a splitting stress on his teeth. “Who are you.” 
“Zhongli, I’m an old friend of hers from college. We had a few classes together.” 
“...Friend” he mocks with rictus, “I’ve never heard your name before.” 
“Emphasis on '’old’. I figured I’d stop by since everyone else was here, it’d be a shame to waste such lovely weather-” 
“You talk a lot” he states monotone. Zhongli sneers, “Some may say. I’m quite talkative during social gath-” 
“So shut the fuck up.” The room hushes. You feel the witnesses shrinking themselves at the crushing tension.  
“Excuse me?” 
“Why were you touching her.” He’s jittery, suppressing the turbulent urge shredding through him.  
“I didn’t realize she was your ‘property’” Zhongli scolds. 
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You put yourself between them, splaying your fingers across Ajax’s chest. His mood switches easily at your expecting gaze. “Ajax, baby, I’m tired. Can we go home now?” He pauses for a final glare at Zhongli. 
“Of course. Let’s go.” 
You breathe a sigh of relief and hold onto his arm as you storm out of the coffeehouse, no time for goodbyes from your friends. You center on leashing Ajax home. Blocks down, you hear the far-off patter of footsteps on stone getting louder. It’s too dinning to ignore, and as you turn around your free arm is snatched by Zhongli. You shriek, “(Y/N), wait, don’t go yet-” 
Whack! His head flies back and pushes him off balance before his feet find stability. It happens so fast, and you look at Ajax, who has a most terrifying dusk pouring on his livid features. Blood gushes from Zhongli’s nose, but he straightens up tall with his fists held in front of him. Ajax cackles, and jabs between the fists that barely have time to block. His movements are fluid, swinging effortlessly after they fall to his sides. Zhongli paces back, and Ajax charges towards him with quick solid blows that make his loafers scratch on the pavement. He plants a mean gut punch to his torso, and Zhongli doubles over until Ajax punches him in the eye with steel knuckles. He collapses, but his fighting hands linger, any chance to defend himself against your merciless boyfriend. That is, until Ajax sits above him, and begins beating him to a pulp. 
Whack! Whack! Whack! His hits are thundering and vicious, tracking blood to his skin from the momentum. You feel lost to time, lost on what to do to save this situation. It sounds like bone swimming in curdling clots and makes you sick. You dive to Ajax, gone by the dead visage. You snake your arms around his waist.  
“Ajax! Please stop!” you scream at the top of your lungs. It falls on deaf ears, but you continue to scream. You’re sobbing into his back and yelling to a hoarse end, when suddenly the punches stop. He gets off Zhongli mechanically and braces your faint legs to rise. It’d be wholesome if not for the blood splattering his hands. He notices your tears and wipes them away, streaking faint blood across your cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m here now.” 
The entire walk home, he’s silent. You hate it when he’s silent. There are cuts spread over his hands and blood steadily runs from the top lip to his swollen bottom lip. He stares off in the distance, concentrated on something—rage, anger—stirring in his cotton-filled brain. You can't read him, and you wonder if you ever had that privilege. 
The pieces come together themselves in a puzzle you unconsciously rejected. You can’t recall the last time you spoke to your parents. His ability to know your favorite meals without talking or gifting you outstanding presents that surfaced memories you’d long forgotten. Collei, Tighnari, Lyney, it’s unmistakable. You beg to be naïve again, hopelessly in love and enraptured.  
You’d rather keep your eyes shut. The sinister rampage spilling out of him is miles apart from the Ajax who serves you breakfast in bed every day and places soft kisses on your body from head to toe. Love is enough, and you know how much he does to show it. Was there another way? Is it your fault this happened? You can’t focus either or organize your jumbled thoughts, and find yourself searching for reassurance within him, any inkling of affection to prove he still loves you. When you sheepishly reach out to grab his wounded hand, he curls around it, and the thump in your heart reignites. A pulse loud enough to subside the dread clamoring in your feet, warning you to run. 
You make it home, and Ajax goes to the kitchen sink to wash away his crimes. He watches red cyclone down the drain, and you lean on a counter close to him. 
“Ajax?” 
“Yea?” he chirps.  
“Zhongli...will he be okay?” you meek. 
“Mhm. I didn’t kill him.” The matter-of-fact reply renders a shudder in your bones.  
“Is something wrong?” The kitchen is small, and from the way you’re standing you’ve closed yourself off to him. 
“No baby,  nothings….nothings wrong” he says, that convincing tone, smooth like satin. 
“But I’m worried. You’ve never acted like this before, tell me what’s on your mind.” He shuts off the water, and the cylindrical pull seeps a guttural groan. He grips the granite, and even that seems to deform. He finally turns to you, a hurt expression colliding with fiendish somber eyes and taut lips. 
“Am I not good enough for you?”  
“You are more than enough” you hearten. Ajax rebuttals a bitter laugh and spouts the candor he’d been gnawing on. 
“I tried. I tried ignoring your kindness. I tried being pitiful, hurting myself so that your eyes were only on me”, he creeps towards you, and your feet move on their own backpedaling. The echo of his self-inflicted scar produces beads of sweat, distracting so that the back of the wooden chair presses into your back and you almost topple over. Nowhere to go, and now he overshadows you with delicate fingertips slithering across your paling cheeks and behind your jaw, “but you’re surrounded by love. People love you.” 
His words drag and descend further, “Ohh, and it’s not fair at all.” 
“Why are they allowed your attention. It should be me. Only me. Don’t you want me?” Laced with love, but you can’t taste it. His dilated orbs ping-pong as they scan your face for confirmation. You bring your palms over his and muster fading courage in timid waves. 
“I love you Ajax. So, so much. But the way you’re acting scares me. It’s my fault and I could’ve gone home, but I haven’t seen them in a long time. I didn’t think things would end up like this.” He pauses, and engulfs you in an ardent embrace, his hand on the back of your head and another on your lower back. Oh, sweetie muffles through strands of your hair as he sways your bodies. You’re mannequin-like in his stifling sight. 
“Nononono, it’s not your fault honeypot. You’re too pure for this world, so kind without thinking. So perfect” he mumbles, absurd drivel seeping through the coherent parts in formidable notes—how he loves you, needs you, can’t live without you— “but they’re leeches. They try to taint you, show you horrible, disgusting things. That piece of shit was looking at me, he was asking for a fight. And he tried to put you in the middle. You could’ve gotten hurt, or God know what. I’ll protect you, my sweet, at any cost." 
“Ajax, I don’t need your protection.” It’s silent, profound when he retracts. You forget how to breathe or talk as he slides to your shoulders and holds them in place. His voice lowers. 
“You don’t need…me?” 
“No, that’s not what I’m saying-” 
“So let me help, let me be yours” he pleads. You don’t respond—you can’t. Each explanation you formulate sticks to the roof of your mouth and swells like a spell drunk in your throat. Ajax tenses, clinging to your skin. He reflects on a thought, and it blooms with a twinkle. 
“What if I just...lock you up?” 
“...What?” you say, hardly above a whisper. It’s arid to swallow, and shivers ripple under sweltering heat prickling your limbs. 
“I wouldn’t put you anywhere bad. It’d be a pretty place; I’ll take good care of you like I always do. Wouldn’t you like that?” He has a hopeful grin on his face, and when he lets you go for a second you jerk away from his reach. Your back hits the opposite wall, nauseous and lightheaded, shaking your head aggressively to push away the existence of the idea. He wrenches his neck, and you glimpse the deluded flush on his face. “No... I’m not gonna do that.” 
“Ah, sweetheart, I know it sounds scary. Can we try it first?”  
“You’re not gonna put me in some fucking cage like an animal” you assert. His eyebrows furrow, offended at your assumption that he’d trap you somewhere unpleasant. 
“I’d never do that to you. I love you.” He inches towards you, and you inch farther. The keys are in front of him, you can’t leave on your own. The steps you take feel critical. 
“Let’s sleep on it, we can discuss in the morning.” No. No no no no. You pan to the staircase, and Ajax curiously watches your paranoid glances. Before he can grab you, you sprint for the stairs. Wind travels in your ears and settles at your graceless movement catching hold of the banister, leverage used to leap. Adrenaline flows steadily in your veins, and your senses feel muddled to mush, focused on pushing your legs to proceed. There’s no room for thinking past the will of your body. You hear airy tsks coming from the dining room, and a singsong “Don’t make me chase you, baby.” 
Suddenly, the creaking floorboards succeed at a roaring parade marching behind you. Closer and closer, a sound you didn’t know he possessed. You don’t dare turn around; the squeak waltzes with your deafening heartbeat. You change direction, making haste to the peaceful bedroom you share, now eroding under his hearty stomps. You clash with the door, and barge in. Slamming it shut, your shaky hands promptly lock the knob. Ajax stops in front of the door and lets his fingertips dance along the wood, “Open the door, please.” 
The knob shakes aggressively, rattling in the socket and threatening to pop. It’s pulling against the edges of the door that rive at his harsh yanks. He perpetually pulls and twists it, “Darling, c’mon open the door, my sweet.” You’re sure if you don’t, he’ll axe his way through instead.  
“Please let me in, baby. Please, I’m dying without you.” 
“I don’t wanna fight anymore... please”, his tone barely lifts above the depth of wood, but you hear the faulty voice keeling in cracks. You know you shouldn’t open the door, but his sorrow beckons you as it often does. He wails so hopelessly, as if you’re punishing him for an unavoidable inevitable. It’s an innocent sob peerless to the ruthless violence he displayed hours before; the harrowing glare of the man you thought you knew was all too terrifying. But he’d never do that to you, would he? You’re his darling sweetheart, his infinity now and forever. You filled his divergent heart and sutured it anew. He needs you.  
Though your hands fidget to stay at their sides from common sense tucked in a forgone crevice of your headache, you force your hand up, and turn the knob. Maybe you should’ve never let him into the shop on that cold night, instead bidding him farewell and trudging in the snow to your crumby apartment. You’d continue running the shop as usual with Lyney. Things would’ve been different, wouldn’t have been so complicated to cut loose from tangling lies knotting the more he consumed you.  
But no, that couldn’t have happened. He would find you, it’s destiny that you’d never part. Stalking in bushes and narrow alleyways until the perfect moment he could walk towards you and catch your eye again, and you’d fall for another pass of courting words.  
Ajax stands there with sparkling sadness streaming down his cheeks that mingle with his quivering lips. He drops to his knees instantly in prayer and looks up at you with doey puffy eye bags that nearly make you overlook everything, about Zhongli, about the red flags that grow green the more you squint. It’s just you and him, that’s all it had to be. In times like these you reminisce about the sweet boy you cuddled and confided in, and things feel as they were. The messy-haired Ajax you remember pulls your lower half close to him with large hands that latch onto your waist the more you adjust. His face is mushed to merging in your stomach, and he sighs heavily, taking in your scent like the last breath he’ll ever have. They snake around you, and you meet eyes again. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I love you angel. So much I’d rip my heart out and put it in your hands…. you control me” Desperation clings to Ajax, and you urge to console him. You intertwine your fingers through his hair. 
“Ajax, this can’t happen again. Okay?” you caution, a warning dripping with compassion. 
“Mhm. Okay.” Unexpected warmth blooms over his cold aura, but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands travel the contours of your hips and thighs, occasionally squeezing with an appreciative huff. He parts your legs and dips to your inner thighs to mold the doughy fat as his lips traverse your lower abdomen, decorating it with wanton kisses. “Love you so much” he utters. His touch is impassioned and fluid, he softens underneath your bottom and circles his thumb like a masseur. Ajax takes his time navigating your sensitive points, and switches between fluffy and solid pressure that licks down your back.  Skin to skin contact wasn’t enough, he wanted to crawl in your ribcage and live in your lungs so he could sense your steady breaths. He wanted to bask in your existence, feel the radiance of your touch and ethereal voice curl and melt into him, to make him nothing and all in your eyes. 
Your digits tangle in his hair, and when he nips your tummy, you tug his scalp. “Fuck” Ajax groans, strained through his lips. The peachy wash draping his cheeks is cherubic, appeased by the rhythmic kneading. One hand slinks under your shirt and guides a fingertip vertically on your spine, the other sculpts your rear. It’s dizzying how easy it is for Ajax to captivate you, a trance that turns your knees to jelly and leaves you at his mercy. You ignored the impulse igniting your muscles to push him off. You want him closer, suffocating you so deep the clouds of his scent dismantle your fear. You take his chin and redirect his attention, and he waits for order like a loyal dog.  
“Ajax.” 
“Whatever you want, princess” he toys, that boyish simper releasing butterflies through your body. 
“I want you.” He hoists you up without a word and carries you to the bed. He brings you down, a priceless vase above the pillowy cushioned bedding. “You comfortable?” You nod, blushing from the way Ajax gawks at your half-hiked shirt, and shorts hanging low on your hips. “Good.” He’s breathless, restraining his impulse to pounce and devour you. No matter how restive he was, Ajax usually prevented himself from indulging beyond your comfort; but tonight is different. It's starving while a succulent meal taunts you, only satiated by the sight of it. He hastily removes his shirt and pants, freckled muscles flexing as he discards them to the floor. It’s hard to avoid the growing spot staining his stretched white briefs. Spreading your legs, he crawls between them. He regards you for a second, but when you reach behind his head he plunges into a longing kiss.  
A longing kiss followed by hungrier ones. It’s abruptly rough and needy against your bruising lips, some skimming the corner of your mouth and tracking to the main course. He frees you for a breather, but the space doesn’t subdue the dull ache thrumming in your core. His nose brushes against yours, and you pull his flyaways back to get the full scale of his feral demeanor, sweating and reddening in the unshakable heat.  
You collide again, hands behind your head through the wild exchange. You can’t keep up; he bites your bottom lip and relieves it with the glide of his tongue. Your slow and steady lover begs for entry with a ravenous push, and you allow it to ruin you. The wet appendage invades your senses, explores your mouth in nonsensical shapes and withdraws with a filthy sound before returning. “So. Fucking. Good” he exhales through your intertwining tongues. You’re moaning into each other, lasting in the moment, forgetting everything. His hips start to grind against you, practically dry humping your clothed lower half. You wrap your legs around him and steer his twitching length to roll into you, nudging the inseam of your shorts to your neglected clit. He engulfs your moans, and retreats with strings of spit connecting your tumid lips. 
Ajax descends to your neck, and places damp and eager kisses along it. You feel the piercing remnant of a bite accompanied by sucking. His fangs pinch and snag and make you whimper. A budding purple and blue blend blotches to your collarbone--draining you like a vampire. His hands stay busy committing your curves to memory in greedy gropes. Ajax doesn’t notice his low rambling, “yea, you’d never leave me, right? I’m all you need”, to “you're mine.” It’s overstimulating, and so is the hammering pulse in your clit.  
Your abused neck is exposed to the delicious sweep of cold air, and he hurries to your shirt. In one swoop, it comes off with the impatient unclasp of your bra. He submerges a stiff peak in warmth while he works the other. His tongue swirls around the nipple, pushing in with a stiff tip and trading it for sucking. It elicits a moan where teeth graze and tweak the bud. “My pretty girl” he murmurs and delivers attention to the next. Ajax massages your spit-soaked tits firmly and diligently in fondling motions. His passion renders him shameless, and it encourages you to fold. You find yourself swerving your hips to his bulge to goad his thirst. He responds with languid nudging, and glances at the space inside your shorts, coated with slick film from your panties. Whine caught in his throat, he salivates and unconciously holds your legs apart. You impel him downwards, and he nuzzles the line to the hem of your shorts.  
“Can I taste you, princess?” It had to be hypothetical, since he was already unbuttoning them with his teeth and tearing them off. “Please?” he pants, a half-lidded mess itching to immerse in your desire. Before you can answer, a rrrip shreds through the room; the culprit of your mangled underwear remains, and you shriek. “Ajax!” you scold, but he’s not bothered when he rips the rest of it to display your arousal. “I’ll get you new ones, I’ll buy you the whole store” he sighs, forcing your thighs rearwards with his hands. He angles himself like a sniper and submerses in your pussy. 
Ajax doesn’t rush, he lazily trails his tongue around the outside and plays with the folds shlicking against him. He outlines the clit and meticulously weaves his skillful tongue, caring for the spots that make your back arch; paying special attention to your entrance, as he teasingly delves in just enough to coax a moan, then laps a flat tongue over your wetness. Ajax’s  ministrations are torturous, rapturing all while ignoring your release. He parts the labia and plashes the juices covering his chin and glossy lips. Your heart is in your ears, winding and coiling at the flicks of his tongue, his fingertips forging red indents on your thighs. Ajax begins to rock himself into the mattress, a fleeting friction comforting his sore erection. His leisurely grinding matches the pace of his mouth making out with your pussy. Mmmf he groans, and the vibrations oscillate. He gently slurps your lips, gasping for another mouthful and lapping at your clit. Your back levitates, and you tug his scalp. It only earns another growl, and faster swipes over the sensitive bud. 
“O-oh fuck” you moan, watching Ajax lose his composure and rut himself into the bed like an animal. He’s panting with a quiver, whimpering some rendition of your name until he sputters. He jolts from the material emptying his balls and soaking the sheets, but his energy doesn’t deplete—It seems to motivate him as he hoists you to his mouth. Ajax always prioritizes your pleasure, but it’s difficult to stop him once he’s invested. And he isn’t done feasting, sloppily eating you up with little concern for your fluttering senses. He rides out his orgasm and brings you to yours, and you hardly realize the intoxicating slide over your clit spelling his name. Ajax, Ajax, Ajax, marked into you; It brings you to a chant as you come undone. Ajax doesn’t waste a drop, avidly cleaning up the juices pulsating out. “Thank you, fuck, thank you so much” he whispers. He swills the bud, and you spasm and squirm from ecstasy in his iron grip. “Ajax, p-please.” 
“I got you.” He gives one last French kiss before exiting tranquility. A combination of spit and arousal blankets his mouth, and he smiles like the happiest man alive. “You okay?” Not a thought in fruition, tender mellowness smothering you. You wince from the prolonged position, and he immediately puts you on your side.  
“Need to feel you.” He wrings his underwear down, and reveals his pulsing shaft adorned with beads of come dribbling down the rosy pale tip. He’s above you, trapping one leg over his shoulder, and aligns himself with your sex. “Perfect tits, perfect pussy. You’re so beautiful, all for me.” The bulb slips in effortlessly, and he sighs at the muscle clenching around him. Each inch drives seamlessly into you, stretching your unadjusted frame. He lulls on your ankle, absorbed by the coziness enveloping the base until he bottoms out. Then it’s unmoving. Agonizing, even, the way you feel him twitch inside. “Y-you can move now.” 
“Let’s just stay like this for a little.” He rubs your leg, savoring the serene patter of rain smacking the wide windows and toasty light dusting your dazed appearance. It’s intimate and placid minus the rise and fall of your bodies, and you’re surprisingly shy. You rush to cover your face, but Ajax grabs you. “Don't hide, pretty girl. You’re stunning” he flirts, kissing your hand. 
“Do you love me?” His blinks are exaggerated, confused that you’d ask such an obvious question. 
“Of course.” 
“What do you love about us?” He brings your hand to his cheek. “You complete me. You’ve forgiven me, loved me, and accepted me for who I am. I can be open around you.” He kisses your wrist, silken as to quell the trivial thoughts resurfacing. 
“I’ll love you until the end. I’ll find you in the next life and start all over, even when this universe collapses. I won’t let anyone get in our way, so love me forever.” Ajax pulls out to the tip, and you whine at the loss of wholeness. Then, he drives his sticky cock unhurriedly to the hilt. You mewl, and he palms your chest. “Shh, ‘s okay.” The milky translucent trail links you and erupts obscene syrupy noises. “What are you thinking for baby names?” You can’t focus, the swinging strokes graze your g-spot. You’d say anything to him at this point; you need him deeper. He casually thumbs your clit and continues at a sluggish tempo. “I really like the name Aleksei” In and out, veins embellishing your walls. You meet his thrusts and shudder, though he stops occasionally to redirect the sopping length. 
“A-ahn, you’re so wet, it keeps slipping out” he moans. He picks up the speed, squelching stirring with whimpers. “I love you, honeypot. Sosososo fucking much, just wanna breed this pretty pussy every second of the day. Ah- you wanna be a mommy, yeah? We can have a big family, hah, just you me and the kids. Wouldn’t you like that, darling?” He’s drilling into you, stuffed to bursting. You feel yourself approaching and seize his wrist. “’M close!” 
“Give it to me, fuck, please” Ajax whines, and you climax under him, juices saturating his balls. You don’t get time to recover; he fucks you through your orgasm. You’re reeling, clawing at his forearm when he puts you flat on your back. “Wanna come inside. Can I, please? I want it so bad” he pleads. He adjusts you to a mating press with brute force, and plummets inside.  
It’s vicious, staggering plap’s and squelching audible from outside. The headboard bangs on the wall while he pummels your pussy. A sheen of lust shrouds his eyes, and his heavy balls smack against your ass as he wrecks you. More, more, more drowns him in senseless fucking, precome frothing at the base. You convulse around him, and he burrows full throttle. When his tongue finds yours, you interweave through the sloppy pumps. His balls tighten, and he chases his high frenetically bobbing. “O-oh, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.” Harsher, meaner strokes hit you quick, and Ajax melts into endless whimpers striking his climax. Ropes of thick white paint your insides, teeming to globs where they crowd your pussy and leak to your ass. Ajax bucks into you, and you milk him dry. The shakes eventually stop, and he goes limp on top of you. You feel him softening, his steady inhale. He smiles at you, showering you with affection you couldn’t resist.  
“I should use the bathroom” you suggest, patting his back as a signal to get off. “Sure. Wait here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He returns after an eternity, with cloudy water and a tepid towel. 
“Here, drink this.” You take the cup and sip. Ajax tips it a bit, urging you to gulp. He wipes you down lovingly while you swallow the contents. He disregards your vulva, however, collecting the come on his fingers and pushing it in. Oddly, you’re leaden—insanely leaden, so much so that your head tilts to one side and threatens to give up entirely. Your knees are wobbly, and your bones are lost in a dreamlike state. Ajax passes the towel under your chest.  
“You know, I didn’t feel bad about it, when I strung his guts across the wall. I only thought of you.”  
No. It can’t be true. 
You can’t scream or fight, and simply gape at the words hulking through your numbed rationale. The towel cools your sweat, but the fear persists.  
“I met him behind your complex. He was bitching about rent, sleazy fucking scum. I asked him if you live there, and he went on a rant about it. Saying nasty stuff no one should ever say about you. I couldn't help it, (Y/N), I had to see his organs carved out of his body.” Your jackhammering heart doesn’t compare to your sloth behavior. You want to run, move in with your parents again and pretend; pretend like your life hasn’t been propelled into disarray, pretend that the ginger boy caressing your face didn’t butcher a man.  
“Ajax, let me go” you cried, a teardrop coursing across your temple. He wipes it, “I’m not holding you, dear. You can’t stand on your own right now, but the effect will wear off after you sleep. Rest for now, okay sweetie?” 
“What did you put...in my...” You’re swooning, ferried by the effect of the unknown medicine sprinkled in your cup. With no will to combat, your eyes reluctantly close. His pupils are desolate and obscure, the night of a severe blizzard. 
“I’m sorry, but I won’t make the same mistake twice.” 
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tags: @zhochikennugget (if anyone else would like to be tagged, dm and i'll tag you on the next one :)
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whamss · 11 months
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Rose would be a shitty girlfriend but people really miss the flavor with exploring that when they take it as Rose not liking Kanaya as much as vice versa as opposed to her being painfully into Kanaya but not knowing how to like. Empathize with other people properly and being too self-absorbed to attend to any of Kanaya's needs, or even really notice when her own behavior is hurting her.
I think it's pretty well-established that Rose is super into her. Girl who drank her ass off before their first date bc she was nervous and constantly turmoiled over whether or not Kanaya was going to break up w her and wanting to make things better between them even leading up to her death, only people to say that she doesn't like Kanaya. If Kanaya broke up with Rose she would perish. Lines like "I never even got to tell her I love her" tell us nothing if not that Rose was painfully in love with Kanaya, but could never find it in herself to tell her. Whether this is because she was trying to protect herself on the chance that Kanaya got sick of her shit and decided to break up or because Rose was so out of it constantly she just could never get it out is up to interpretation. But Rose being a shitty girlfriend and her relationship with Kanaya being extremely important to her aren't concepts that are mutually exclusive. If anything I think they play hand in hand.
I also just think people need to give Kanaya more autonomy than they do. Don't get me wrong the power dynamic IS inbalanced. Rose is insane and constantly making mistakes and impulsive decisions and Kanaya is always left picking up the pieces when she does something crazy. Rose hurts Kanaya to an incomparable degree. Kanaya has far more patience for Rose than she probably should, but she isn't a doormat. The entire interaction Kanaya and Rose had on the meteor, where Kanaya flipped out on Rose for drinking right before they were due for a big fight, tells us so much about what their dynamic was leading up to this imo. This is a conversation they've had countless times before, Kanaya's anger is always followed up with some fearful suggestion from Rose that Kanaya is going to break up with her. Kanaya is a girl dealing with a partner deep in the throes of alcoholism, she's painfully compliant, but their interactions both leading up to them getting together and once they do both on the meteor and off of it show that the relationship anxiety is very one-sided. Rose is the only one worried about them breaking up, because she sucks and she knows that. Kanaya cares deeply for Rose but if either of them are going to be cooly cutting things off between them it's her, not Rose.
I love giving rosemary divorce particles, I can never be convinced that two girls who got together That Young could make it work between them without a ton of bumps in the road. I love that Rose is fucked up and self-centered and I like when people acknowledge this, but she DOES love Kanaya. To her own detriment. Kanaya is the one constantly disillusioned by Rose's behavior, the one who's commitment is constantly tested, not the other way around. Wish more people could acknowledge this... Rose loves Kanaya! And Kanaya loves Rose too, I think. But people really wooby her when they try to frame even the likes of pre-retcon rosemary like Kanaya is a nothing but a victim of Rose's vices, and that Rose somehow doesn't actually want to be in a relationship with her.
Pre-retcon rosemary was definitely on track to an untimely break up though. Rose wasn't going to be the one to pull that trigger though
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