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pucksandpower · 3 months

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La Regina

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Charles Leclerc x Schumacher!Reader

Summary: a girl raised at her father’s knee goes from rising star to princess to queen (or in which becoming a legend runs in the Schumacher family)

You bounce excitedly in the passenger seat of your papa’s car as he pulls into the parking lot of the karting track. At 5-years-old, you’re too young to race officially, but he promised to let you drive some practice laps after the scheduled competition today.

“Remember, Maus, listen closely to the instructors and stay safe out there,” Michael says, ruffling your hair affectionately before getting out.

You scramble out after him, having to jog to keep up with his long strides across the parking lot. You reach to take his hand, but freeze when a small crowd starts converging around your papa. Men in bright vests are rushing over, cameras flashing rapidly.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” You ask, startled by the commotion.

Before Michael can respond, a curly-haired woman thrusts a baby into his arms. “Oh my god, can you just hold her for one second? I need a picture!”

Your papa looks bewildered but graciously cradles the infant, giving an awkward smile as more and more people start shoving pieces of paper and pens in front of him.

“Excuse me, please, I have my daughter with me today,” he tries saying over the chaos, but no one is listening.

You shrink back, overwhelmed by the pushing crowd and flurry of voices pleading for autographs and photos. Where did all these people come from? This has never happened before when you’ve gone karting with your papa.

Sensing your unease, Michael gently passes the baby back to its mother and kneels down in front of you. “Hey, it’s okay, Maus. Why don’t you wait for me over there?” He gestures to a bench off to the side.

Part of you wants to cling to him, scared of all the strangers crowding around so aggressively. But you also don’t want him to have to worry about you on top of everything else. You nod bravely and make your way through the throng to the little bench, watching apprehensively as your papa tries politely handling the requests.

After what feels like forever, the crowd finally starts dispersing, though a few linger behind like stubborn cats begging for scraps. Michael shakes the last few hands and accepts some papers to sign before gratefully escaping over to you.

“I’m so sorry about that, Maus,” he says, looking apologetic as he plops down on the bench. “I didn’t expect such a scene on what’s supposed to be our fun day.”

“It’s okay, Papa.” You lean against his side, still a bit rattled but comforted by his familiar warmth. “Who were all those people? Why did they want your … uhh …“ You can’t quite remember the word for the scribbles people ask famous people for.

“Autographs,” Michael supplies with an amused chuckle, wrapping an arm around you. “And they wanted photos too, I suppose. I’m … well, I’m quite a famous racecar driver.”

You cock your head, trying to process this concept of your papa being some kind of celebrity. As far as you’re concerned, he’s just your goofy, loving dad who takes you karting and makes the silliest voices for all your stuffed animals at home.

“Really? Like the famous famous people on TV?” You’ve seen the paparazzi swarming the actors and musicians during awards shows, but you’d never imagined that could happen to your own papa.

Michael nods, drawing you closer with a squeeze. “Yes, somewhat like that, though it’s a bit excessive at a small karting event.” He laughs again and brushes some of your wayward hair from your face. “But you’re right, to you I’m just Papa. I don’t expect anything more from my favorite Maus.”

You beam at the affectionate nickname, all the earlier stress melting away. Who cares if strangers want your papa’s autograph or photos? All that matters is you two spending the day together like always.

“Can we go get our karts now?” You ask eagerly, bouncing a little on the bench. “I want to show you how fast I can go!”

“Of course!” Michael jumps up and scoops you into his arms with a playful growl, making you shriek giddily. “My little speed demon is going to leave me in the dust.”

He swings you up onto his shoulders and you cling on tightly as he strides toward the pit area. A few more people spot him and make a move closer with cameras and sharpies extended, but seem to think better of it when they see you perched up high.

The two of you spend the next couple hours karting together, trading places taking warm up laps and cheering each other on. At one point, a young attendant working the pit area approaches Michael somewhat nervously.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Schumacher?” He’s clutching a crumpled baseball cap in one hand, ducking his head shyly. “I’m just such a huge fan, would you mind taking a photo and signing this for me after your session?”

Your papa smiles kindly at the young man and takes the cap. “Not at all, no problem.” As the attendant walks away, looking elated, Michael turns to you with a wink. “See? That’s how you politely ask for an autograph.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t let the fame go to my head when I’m a famous racecar driver too someday.”

Scooping you up once more, Michael presses a sloppy kiss to your cheek. “That’s my girl. Now, last few laps — let’s see who can go the fastest without ending up in the grass!”

As evening starts falling, the two of you make your way back through the now nearly deserted lot after returning the rental karts. Most of the other karters have cleared out, leaving just you two strolling unhurriedly back to the car.

“Well Maus, despite the, uh, overexcited fans, I’d call this day a success,” Michael says, swinging your joined hands idly. “We both had our fun on the track, and I think you handled that crowd back there like a champ.”

You smile up at him, still so proud just to be his daughter. “I don’t care about all those other people, papa. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

Stopping beside the car, Michael crouches down and cups your face in his calloused racing palms, looking at you with such fierce adoration.

“Maus, you have me, always. No matter what happens out there,” he gestures vaguely at the empty track, “When I’m with you, I’m just Papa. My greatest accomplishment, my biggest award, is being your father. Verstanden?”

You launch yourself into his arms, hugging as tightly as you can. “Verstanden, Papa. I love you.”

“Ich liebe dich mehr, Maus,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to your hair. “Now, what do you say we go get some victory ice cream?”

As the two of you climb into the car, you can’t keep the smile off your face, practically glowing with contentment. Sure, maybe your papa is some big famous racecar driver that everybody wants a piece of. But really, he’s just your papa — and you’re his whole world.

***

The ringing of the house phone cuts through the tense silence like a knife. You shrink further into the couch cushions as your mother rushes to answer it, shoulders visibly taut.

“Hello? No, I cannot make any comment at this time. Yes, I understand there is interest but-” Corinna breaks off, rubbing her temples wearily. “Please respect our privacy as a family right now. Thank you.”

She hangs up and leans against the wall, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment. Before she can even draw a full breath, the phone rings again, shrill and insistent. With a muffled curse, your mother snatches it up.

“What? I told you, I cannot give any statements! This is a private matter. How did you even get this number?”

You watch apprehensively as she responds again, her voice rising in distress. In the days since your papa’s skiing accident, it seems like the entire world has been hounding your family, desperate for any scrap of information.

On the TV across the room, the endless cycle of news reports drones on lowly. Images of your papa’s broken, still body being rushed from the slopes into a helicopter. Flashing advancer texts speculating on his chances of recovery from the traumatic head injury.

It makes you feel ill.

Beside you on the couch, Mick sits blank-faced, looking nearly as pale and worn as your mother. At 14, he understands the gravity of the situation all too well. Your big brother has always idolized your papa, hoping to follow in his racing footsteps one day as well. The thought of him not being there to see the realization of that dream is devastating.

Gina is curled up in the armchair, her shoulders shaking every so often with muffled sobs. At 16, she’s arguably been taking this the hardest of all you kids. She keeps her face stoically dry in front of your mother, but you can see how red and puffy her eyes are from constant crying.

As for you, at 11-years-old, you’re somehow both numb and feeling everything all at once. Part of you still can’t fully process that this nightmare is real. That your hero, your papa, could be lying comatose in a hospital, hovering between life and death. The other part of you is overwhelmed in a tsunami of terror, panic, anger, sadness — any and every emotion crashing through you at all hours.

“Kids, I’m so sorry about this,” your mother says, defeated, as she rejoins you in the living room after ending her latest call. The bags under her eyes seem to have deepened further overnight. “I know this is incredibly difficult and intrusive. But your papa is … he’s a public figure. People are concerned.”

“Incredibly insensitive is what they’re being,” Gina spits, uncurling herself from the chair enough to shoot your mother a resentful look. “We’re going through actual hell and all these people care about is getting a sound bite for the evening news!”

Corinna looks pained but doesn’t rebuke her. “I know, liebling, I know. But your papa has millions of fans all over the world who have followed his career for decades. Whether we like it or not, they care about him … and about us by extension.”

You think back to that day at the karting track all those years ago when you first realized your papa was what people called “famous”. How all those strangers clamored around him so aggressively just for a photo or an autograph. That level of fandom seemed exciting and novel at the time, when you were just a naïve 5-year-old. Now you see it for how intrusive and violating it is, this sense of entitlement people have to the private life of a public figure.

The phone starts ringing again, shattering the fragile quiet. Your mother squeezes her eyes shut and makes no move to get it this time. After four rings, the call goes to voicemail. A moment later, the tinny sound of an Italian voicemail being left blares through the speaker.

“Scusi, scusi, please, if there is any update on the condition of the great Michael Schumacher, any information at all! We are all holding vigils and saying prayers, but we must know how he fares! The world is watching and waiting!”

The words, pleading and demanding all at once, are like a slap across your face. The man’s voice is laced with such desperation, as if your papa’s life is mere entertainment to be consumedby the masses. You feel abruptly furious, incensed that a stranger’s morbid curiosity is given the same weight as your family’s anguish.

“Turn it off,” Mick mutters through clenched teeth, hunching over on the couch. “Just turn it off, Mama.”

Corinna nods numbly and reaches to end the voicemail, her mouth set in a grim line. Buzzing fills the room again as the TV drones on, the reporters’ voices a dull roar that you can no longer discern actual words from as your ears ring with white noise.

The shrill ringing of the phone cuts through once more, like a record scratching in your brain. Your mother flinches violently, hands coming up to clamp over her ears as she squeezes her eyes shut, finally at her breaking point.

Unable to watch this torture anymore, you surge to your feet and storm across the living room. You rip the phone from its cradle and hurl it against the far wall, the plastic casing shattering loudly. The ringing blessedly ends, leaving only an eerie silence in its wake.

Mick and Gina stare at you with wide, stunned eyes. Your mother simply deflates, sliding down the wall to the floor as the adrenaline drains from her body. For several beats, no one dares breathe too loudly. Then, Gina starts to shake her head slowly, tears slipping free.

“Brava,” she murmurs, the barest hint of approval in her voice.

Your mother doesn’t scold you for the outburst. She merely reaches out a hand, silently beckoning you closer until you slowly cross the room again and sink to your knees in front of her. She cups your face in her palms, her own cheeks glistening with fresh tears.

“You’re right, liebling, you’re right,” she whispers brokenly. “This is about our family, not … not the world thinking they’re owed something.”

She pulls your head against her shoulder and you cling to her tightly as she begins to weep in earnest, great shuddering sobs wracking her whole frame. Gina scrambles over and tucks herself against your mother’s other side, and soon all three of you are tangled in each other’s arms, letting the tidal wave of grief crest over you.

Mick stays frozen on the couch, watching over your huddle with dark, haunted eyes. For the first time since this ordeal began, the four of you are united in simply feeling, truly letting yourselves shatter. No more putting on brave faces or pretending to be okay — from this moment, you can finally grieve as a family behind closed doors, blockading out the rest of the cruel, prying world.

Later that evening, after crying yourselves into an exhausted stupor, you drift up the stairs and sequester yourself in your bedroom. You bypass the framed photos of your papa on your nightstand, the sight of his bright smile and twinkling eyes too searing at the moment. Instead, you sink to your knees in the middle of the floor and clasp your hands tightly, bowing your head to murmur desperate pleas.

“Please, please let my papa be okay. I don’t care about all his fame or the stupid reporters. I just want him to get better and come home to us. He’s not just the famous Michael Schumacher to me. He’s Papa. He’s my whole world.”

The words spill out in a torrent, all the fear and longing you’ve been bottling up for the better part of a week erupting forth. You plead to any higher power that may be listening, bargaining away your future, your dreams, anything — as long as your papa pulls through this nightmare.

How many times had you taken for granted those moments of him just being your dad — making you pancakes on Saturday mornings, dozing on the couch during family movie nights, playfully tossing you into the pool when you grew too whiny in the summer heat? You’d give anything to have those simple, precious daddy-daughter moments back.

“The world can have his trophies and titles,” you whisper fiercely, tears slipping free to patter on the carpet. “I don’t care about any of that. I just want my papa. Please, please bring him back to us.”

You curl in on yourself, forehead pressing into the floor as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. All the adoring fans, the fawning media, the hangers-on clamoring for a piece of his glory — they only know the manufactured public persona of Michael Schumacher, legendary racer and famous celebrity. But to you, he’s always just been the quiet hero tucking you into bed at night, the gentle presence reading stories in funny voices, the mighty protector pulling you in for all-encompassing bear hugs.

You miss that wonderful, silly, tender father more than anything in the world. You don’t give a damn about his racing accolades or his fame. You just desperately need your papa back home where he belongs — with his family, the people who loved and treasured him most as simply Michael.

Just Michael. Your one and only papa.

The raw ache of that longing consumes you utterly. You lay there amid the fading light from your bedroom windows, dreams and memories of your papa flickering behind your eyelids as you plead to any benevolent force that may be listening. All you want is the chance to make more joyful memories with him, to hear his rich laugh, to keep basking in his unconditional love for years and years to come.

Please, you beg the universe silently, one last time. Please let this nightmare end. Don’t let the brightest light in my world be extinguished before its time.

Let me have my papa back.

***

A tense hush has fallen over the dining room table, the clinking of utensils against plates the only sound cutting through the thick silence. Gina avoids everyone’s eyes, pushing food around her plate listlessly. Mick stares down at his half-eaten dinner, jaw working like he’s chewing over something weighty. You pick at a bread roll, too knotted with anxiety to muster much appetite.

Your mother is the one to finally break the stifling quiet, clearing her throat. “Kids, I know these last few weeks have been … incredibly difficult for us all.”

You risk a glance up at Corinna. Her eyes are tight at the corners, her mouth a taut line. Just like all of you, the constant vigil at your papa’s bedside, combined with the relentless badgering from the media, has clearly taken its toll.

“But we have to keep trying to be a family, yes?” She reaches across the table to grip your hand. “We’re all Michael has right now. We have to … to stick together for him.”

You nod numbly, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat at the reminder of your papa’s unchanged condition. The waiting, the not knowing if or when he’ll wake up, is a special kind of torment you wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Mick abruptly shoves his plate away, the porcelain scraping loudly across the wood. You all flinch a little at the harsh sound.

“I’ve been thinking ...” he starts, then seems to reconsider his words, shoulders tightening fractionally. “Well, Y/N, you know how I … how I race under Mama’s last name?”

You frown slightly, uncertain where he’s going with this. “Betsch, yes. Because you wanted to make your own name without the expectation and pressure of being Michael Schumacher’s son.”

He dips his chin once, looking almost pained. “Exactly. And I think … I think maybe you should consider doing the same.”

The words sit heavy and convolulenting between you all like a sack of wet cement. You blink dumbly, hardly comprehending what he’s suggesting at first. When the implication hits you, you actually recoil as if he’d slapped you across the face.

“What? No. No, absolutely not, Mick. How can you even say that?”

“Y/N, just hear me out,” he pleads, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “With Papa … with what happened, the paparazzi and the fans, they’re going to be watching our every move even more than before. Especially you since you’re planning to continue competing-”

“Don’t you dare make this about his condition,” you spit, fury thrumming through your veins like struck lightning. “And of course I plan to keep racing — it’s what Papa would want! I’m not going to hide from his name like it’s some shameful thing!”

Gina is watching the exchange with wide, startled eyes, her food forgotten. Mick runs an agitated hand through his hair, shaking his head firmly.

“It’s not about hiding or shame, it’s about protecting yourself! Don’t you see how crazy things have gotten? All the reporters harassing us, the fans leaving awful messages online hoping for updates ...”

He leans forward, expression almost desperate. “If you race as Betsch, you can compete without having that extra spotlight. You can just be a normal kid on the track without people peering in.”

Heat rushes up the back of your neck in waves of humiliation and rage. How dare he insinuate that inheriting your papa’s legacy is some kind of burden to be shrugged off? That the name Schumacher is a burden to bear rather than a badge of honor?

“I’m not you, Mick,” you bite out, fists clenching beneath the table. “Maybe racing under Mama’s name helped you deal with the pressure better and that’s fine. But I’m proud to be Michael Schumacher’s daughter! And if people can’t respect that, if they think it means they own a piece of me, then they can go to hell!”

“Language!” Your mother gasps, both appalled and slightly impressed. But you ignore her admonishment, too fired up to rein it in now.

“What, you think pretending to be someone else is going to spare me from living in Papa’s shadow anyway?” You shake your head adamantly, leaning across the table towards Mick. “It’s not, and you know it. Even if I raced under a fake name, everyone is still going to know exactly who I am and make comparisons.”

Slamming your palms on the table, you surge to your feet, chair screeching harshly against the floor. All the pain and uncertainty of these past few weeks is bubbling over into bitter, biting words.

“So why should I hide it? Why can’t I take pride in my name and my heritage? Maybe it’ll mean more scrutiny, but it’s a million times better than feeling like I have to be ashamed! Like I can’t fully honor Papa and make him proud!”

Chest heaving, you stare down a wide-eyed Mick, almost daring him to challenge you further. He seems to read the conviction blazing in your eyes, features softening into chagrin.

“You’re right ...” he murmurs with a wince. “You’re right, Y/N, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

You hold his repentant gaze for a long moment before deflating back into your chair with a muted thud. In the ringing silence, you can hear your mother’s soft sniffles from the far end of the table. When you look over, she has her head bowed, hands pressed to her eyes as she cries quietly.

“M-Mama?” Gina ventures in a small voice, reaching across to grasp her mother’s wrist. “What’s wrong?”

Corinna lowers her hands, swiping at the tears streaking her cheeks. When she meets your bewildered gaze, her expression is a complicated brew of pride and heart-wrenching sadness.

“Nothing is wrong, liebling,” she assures Gina with a watery smile, before turning back to you. “Y/N, you’re so much like your papa, do you know that? So brave and determined … so full of that same fighting spirit.”

She dips her chin, lips trembling faintly. “He would be so proud to hear you defend his name like that. To see you ready to take on the weight of wearing it, regardless of what the world throws at you.”

More tears spill forth, but she brushes them away impatiently with the backs of her hands.

“But liebchen, you have to understand … Michael spent decades bearing that scrutiny and expectation. People analyzing his every move, always under a spotlight so harsh it burned. I never wanted that for any of you.”

Sliding her chair back, your mother crosses to kneel before you, cradling your face gently between her palms. Her eyes are shining but intensely serious, almost pleading with you.

“The Schumacher name casts such a long shadow, one so great that your own light can be eclipsed before you ever have a chance to properly shine. I don’t want you smothered by that burden, mein schatz. I want you free to make your own amazing mark on this world, completely unchained.”

You feel your throat grow tight at her words, the weight of them ringing so true and terribly sad. You reach up to circle your fingers around her wrists, holding her hands to your cheeks like vices.

“I know, Mama, I know,” you whisper roughly. “But that light you want me to shine? Papa is the one who sparked it inside me in the first place.”

You meet her watery gaze steadily, willing her to understand the conviction taking root inside you.

“The joy and passion I have for racing doesn’t come from some anonymous dream. It comes from him — from the nights he spent giving me a play-by-play of his biggest victories, from the days we spent at the karting tracks making memories, from everything I want so desperately to honor.”

Leaning forward until your brows nearly touch, you let the pleasing words spill out directly from your heart.

“So please, please don’t ask me to race as anyone other than your daughter, yes, but also proudly as Michael Schumacher’s daughter. That name isn’t a burden or a shadow to me. It’s something I want to carry forward and make blaze even brighter.”

Your mother’s eyes slip shut as she draws in a shuddering breath. For a long moment, she simply holds your face cradled in her palms, seeming to bask in your impassioned words. When her eyes finally open again, they are overflowing with a fierce tenderness.

“Oh liebchen,” she murmurs, voice thick with an odd mix of grief and wonder. “You are your father’s daughter through and through. So determined, so unafraid to face the world head on ...”

She strokes her thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, swiping away the dampness there. “I only hope he knows just how brightly his fire still burns in you. How it is living on in the most brilliant way.”

Surging up onto her knees, your mother pulls you into a fierce embrace, tucking your head beneath her chin. You cling to her tightly, drawing strength from her warmth, her tireless support and love. Over her shoulder, you can see Mick and Gina watching silently, their own eyes overly bright.

When your mother finally leans back, cupping your face once more, her expression has regained some of its usual firmness and resolution.

“Very well, then,” she nods, offering you a watery but determined smile. “If you truly feel ready to take on the world, to claim that name and legacy as yours, then we will face it together. As a family.”

She rises lithely to her feet, drawing you up along with her. Gathering Mick and Gina in with the sweep of her arms, she folds you all in her protective embrace, holding your foreheads together in the center.

“You may be Schumachers, but that name does not define or limit you,” she declares, quiet but firm. “It is simply one part of your identity, one piece of the incredible legacy you inherited. What you choose to make of it, how brightly you make that legacy burn, is up to you alone.”

She pulls back just enough to meet each of your eyes in turn, her own gleaming with resolute pride.

“So let them watch, let them scrutinize and sneer and make their judgments. You will simply keep chasing your passions and living your truths. Yes, the world may know you as Schumachers, but you alone will define what that name represents, now and for generations to come.”

***

The roar of the engines fades as you cross the finish line, taking the chequered flag. The broadcast team erupts in excitement.

“Unbelievable! Y/N Schumacher has done it — the daughter of the legendary Michael Schumacher wins the Formula 2 championship in her rookie year!”

You can hardly believe it yourself as you start your cooldown lap, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The pit crew is cheering wildly, holding up the #1 sign. Your race engineer is on the radio, his voice cracking with joy. “You’re a champion, Y/N! A first-year champion!”

“What an incredible drive from the young German. Shades of her father with that relentless determination and racecraft. She’s carried on the Schumacher name proudly.”

As you return to the pit lane, you spot Mick getting out of his own car. He has a huge smile on his face, eyes shining with pride. You take a moment to drink it all in as you bring your car to a stop and he’s the first one there, ripping off your helmet so he can hug you tightly.

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” He’s beaming as he pulls back to look at you.

“Aww, Mick ...” You blink back happy tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what you’ve accomplished. “I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me every single race.”

Mick shakes his head dismissively. “This was all you. You were the faster driver this season, plain and simple.” His face falls a little. “I really thought I had you there at the end, but you just wouldn’t give up.”

You grin cheekily. “Of course not! I’m a Schumacher — we never give up.”

“What a beautiful moment between the siblings. You can see the immense pride Mick has for his sister, despite coming up just short of winning the championship himself.”

The rest of the team surrounds the two of you, lifting you both up onto their shoulders as the celebrations kick into full gear. You lock eyes with Mick over the sea of smiling faces and he winks at you contentedly.

Later, after you’ve returned to the garage, you find a quiet moment alone with Mick. He pulls you into another hug, this one more lingering.

“I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You’ve worked so incredibly hard for this.” Mick’s voice is thick with emotion.

You squeeze him tightly. “Thank you, Mick. That means everything coming from you.”

He pulls back, cupping your face fondly. “I remember when we were kids, dreaming of following in Papa’s footsteps. And now look at us!”

You laugh, a few happy tears spilling over. “I know, it’s crazy! I couldn’t have done this without your help, you know. You’ve been by my side every step of the way.”

“A storybook ending for the Schumacher siblings. Y/N cementing herself as a future star, with her older brother not far behind.”

Mick shakes his head adamantly. “No, Y/N, this was all your talent and determination. I just got a front row seat to watching greatness in the making.” His eyes are shining with sincerity.

You throw your arms around his neck, struck by how lucky you are to have such an amazing brother. “I love you, Mick. Thank you for always believing in me.”

He hugs you fiercely. “I’ll always believe in you. You’re a champion now, but I know this is just the beginning for you.”

The team arrives then, champagne bottles in hand and ready to continue the celebration. You pull back and grin at Mick mischievously, cracking open the first bottle with a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you … for now.”

The bubbly liquid sprays everywhere as you both dissolve into laughter, reveling in this perfect moment of sibling bonding and love. Mick pulls you into a wet hug, so proud and grateful to share this with you.

“And an iconic image — the Schumacher children celebrating a Formula 2 title just like their father did in the upper series so many times before. A changing of the guard, with the name Schumacher set to dazzle racing fans once more for years to come.”

Later that night, after you’ve showered off the champagne and slipped into comfy clothes, there’s a soft knock at your hotel room door. You open it to find Mick standing there, shifting awkwardly.

“Hey, you’ve got a second?” His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, like he’s been crying.

“Of course, what’s up?” You gesture him inside, concerned by his demeanor.

Mick enters slowly, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. He seems to be struggling to find the words.

You rest a hand on his arm. “Mick, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

He nods jerkily, finally meeting your eyes. “I really am so happy for you, Y/N. You have no idea how much it means to me to see you accomplishing your dreams.” His voice catches with emotion.

“But?” You prod gently.

Mick’s eyes water again. “But … it’s also really hard for me. This was my dream first, you know? To become a champion like Papa.” He swipes at the tears angrily. “And now you’ve beaten me to it. I’m just … I’m struggling with that a bit.”

Your heart clenches at his quiet admission. You pull Mick into a tight hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “Oh, Mick … I’m so sorry. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

He shakes his head against your shoulder. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all. You earned this, fair and square. I’m just … dealing with some complicated emotions, I guess.”

You push him back by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes intently. “Mick, listen to me. You are one of the most naturally gifted drivers I’ve ever seen. This is not the end for you, not even close. You’re going to be a champion too, I know it.”

Mick seems to deflate slightly at your words, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you state firmly. “We’re going to take this to the top level together. And we’re going to make Papa even more proud than he already is.”

A slow smile spreads across Mick’s face. “Together,” he repeats, reaching out to take your hand and give it a squeeze.

You squeeze back reassuringly. “Always together. You and me, just like when we were kids. We’re a team, remember?”

Mick nods, the brightness returning to his eyes. He seems lighter now, the melancholy cloud lifted by your words of encouragement.

On impulse, you throw your arms around him again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug. Mick laughs delightedly, squeezing you just as tightly.

“Thank you, Y/N. I needed to hear that from you,” he murmurs shakily into your hair.

You pull back just enough to grin at him cheekily. “What are little sisters for?”

Mick lets out a surprised bark of laughter, warmth and affection shining from every part of his expression as he gazes at you fondly. “You’ll always be my little sis, champion or not.”

It’s your turn to laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “Well this little sis just kicked your ass this season, so show some respect!”

Mick’s eyes crinkle with mirth. “I’ll remember that for next year, believe me.”

***

It’s a crisp autumn evening at the Schumacher family home in the Swiss Alps. You’re curled up on the plush couch in the living room, flipping through a magazine while your brother paces back and forth anxiously.

“Will you please sit down?” You ask, eyeing him over the top of the pages. “You’re making me dizzy.”

Mick runs a hand through his tousled blond hair. “Sorry, I’m just … worked up, I guess.”

You set the magazine aside. “About what? We haven’t had a race in weeks.”

He stops his pacing to face you. “You know the season’s almost over, right? And Haas still hasn’t said anything about re-signing me for next year.”

“Oh, Mick.” You offer him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. You’ve had a solid season.”

Mick flops down next to you, deflating a little. “I don’t know. There are so many other options on the table. What if Haas decides to go a different direction?”

“Then you’ll find another seat,” you say firmly. “Any team would be lucky to have you behind the wheel.”

He manages a half-smile. “Thanks. I just wish I had your confidence sometimes.”

“What can I say?” You flash him a cheeky grin. “It’s a gift.”

The peaceful moment is shattered as both of your phones start ringing in unison. You exchange a puzzled look before digging them out.

“My manager,” Mick says, furrowing his brow as he answers. “Hello?”

You do the same, pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, Nicolas, what’s up?”

For the next few minutes, you and Mick are silent, listening intently with rapidly changing expressions — yours elated, his crestfallen. When you finally hang up, Mick is staring at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Well?” He asks, voice tight. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

You take a deep breath, trying to tamp down your surging excitement. “Ferrari wants me for next season.”

Mick’s face falls even further, if possible. “You’re kidding.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this!” You can’t keep the grin from overtaking your features. “Can you believe it? Driving for the Scuderia! It’s a dream come true!”

“Yeah, for you maybe,” Mick mutters darkly.

You blink at his tone, smile fading slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He drags a hand down his face wearily. “Haas declined to re-sign me for next year.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? No, that can’t be right!”

“Afraid so.” Mick’s voice is flat, resigned. “They said something about … needing to bring in fresh blood or some bullshit excuse.”

You scoot closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “Mick, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be.” He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but it comes off as dejected. “At least one of us is moving up in the world.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” You protest. “We’re teammates! We were supposed to take on Formula 1 together!”

Mick snorts humorlessly. “Looks like that’s not going to happen after all.”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between you. You open your mouth, searching for the right words of reassurance, but come up empty. How can you comfort him when your own dream has come true at his expense?

“Hey.” Mick’s somber tone breaks the quiet. “I’m happy for you, you know. Really, I am.”

You meet his sincere gaze, feeling your eyes start to well up. “I know. But that doesn’t make this any less shitty for you.”

He manages a rueful smile. “What can I say? I’m a realist.”

“So what are you going to do now?” You ask quietly.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Keep grinding, I guess. Look for another seat, any seat, even if it’s not in F1 next season.”

“You can’t give up on F1!” You protest instantly. “You’re too good for that, Mick.”

“Am I, though?” He lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Face it, Y/N, you’ve always been the better driver. This just proves it.”

You shake your head adamantly. “That’s not true at all! You’re every bit as talented as me.”

“Then why did Ferrari pick you instead of me?” There’s no accusation in his words, just weariness.

You falter, mind churning as you search for an answer that won’t come. “I … don’t know.”

“Exactly.” Mick closes his eyes briefly. “Maybe it’s for the best. At least this way, one of us still gets to live out the Schumacher legacy and race for Ferrari. Carry on the family name, you know?”

“But you’re a Schumacher too,” you say, feeling your throat start to tighten with unshed tears. “It should be both of us out there, not just me.”

Mick reaches over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry about it. I’ll be okay, really.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” You swipe angrily at the moisture gathering in your eyes. “It’s not fair, Mick. It’s just not fair at all.”

He levels you with a look that’s decades older than his years. “Life rarely is. You know that as well as I do.”

You fall silent, unable to formulate a response. He’s right, you realize with a pang. The two of you, of all people, should understand that success and failure often go hand-in-hand, even for the most talented competitors.

Pursing your lips, you lean forward and pull Mick into a fierce hug. He tenses for a split second before wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I’m still so proud of you,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be my incredible big brother.”

Mick lets out a shaky exhale against your hair. “And you’re the most badass little sister a guy could ask for. Ferrari has no idea what they’re in for.”

You pull back just far enough to meet his eyes, emboldened by the warm affection shining in them.

“Just promise me one thing?” You ask.

He arches an eyebrow quizzically. “What’s that?”

A mischievous grin tugs at your lips. “That you’re not going to take it easy on me whenever you’re back on the grid.”

***

You take a deep breath as you pull your sleek new Ferrari up to the iconic factory in Maranello. This place holds so many memories — some joyful, others bittersweet. Your father cemented himself as a legend here, and you can’t help but feel the weight of that legacy on your shoulders now more than ever.

The door swings open and there stands Fred Vasseur offering you a warm smile. “Y/N, welcome home.”

You return the smile, unable to mask the flood of emotions. “It’s good to be back, Fred.”

He gestures for you to follow him inside. “I’m sure this place brings back quite a few memories.”

“You have no idea,” you murmur, taking in the familiar sights and smells. The rosso corsa that coats every surface, the scent of machinery and high-octane fuel … it’s intoxicating.

A tiny you runs through the hallways, giggling madly as your frantic mother tries to catch up. “Mick! Y/N! Get back here this instant!”

Mick peeks out from behind a workbench, sticking his tongue out at Gina, who playfully swats at him. You spot the perfect hiding spot — a massive green recycling bin tucked in the corner ...

“Y/N? Are you still with me?” Fred’s voice breaks you from your reverie.

You shake your head. “Sorry, got a bit lost in thought there. This place just … feels like stepping into the past.”

Fred nods knowingly. “I can only imagine. But today is about your future with the team.” He leads you through the winding corridors, pointing out various departments. “Over here is aerodynamics, that hallway takes you to the design labs ...”

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your father’s voice echoes down the corridor, his tone playful but tinged with desperation. You stifle a giggle from your hiding spot as his footsteps draw closer.

“Michael, any luck?” That’s Paolo, one of the mechanics. You chance a peek and see half the team has been enlisted to search for you.

Your dad scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s too good at this game. Should’ve known better than to play hide-and-seek in a place this size.”

You chuckle softly at the memory, prompting a curious look from Fred. “Sorry, just … reminiscing again.”

He gives you an easy grin. “By all means, feel free to share. I’d love to hear some of those old stories.”

You take a breath, composing yourself before launching into the tale. “Well, there was this one time when I was maybe … four or five? Mick and I were causing an unholy ruckus as usual, and Papa suggested a game of hide-and-seek to wear us out. Big mistake on his part.”

Fred’s eyes crinkle with amusement. “Let me guess, you proved to be a master hider?”

“You could say that.” You grin mischievously. “I found this big recycling bin, crawled inside, and stayed completely silent while the whole team tore the place apart looking for me. Papa was just about to call in the overalls for backup when Paolo finally peeked in the bin.”

Fred throws his head back with a hearty laugh. “I can just picture your poor father’s face when they found you! He must’ve been both relieved and completely exasperated.”

You nod. “Oh, he wore that particular blend of emotions often when we were young terrors around here.”

The two of you continue chatting amicably as Fred shows you around the various facilities — the simulator room, the engine workshop, even the gym and physiotherapy center. With each new area unveiled, another flood of nostalgia washes over you.

You and Mick sprint into the wide-open workshop, engines and miscellaneous car pieces scattered all around. Gina is closing in, her longer legs giving her an advantage.

“Got you now, you little gremlins!” She scoops Mick up with one arm, then turns her sights on you.

You let out a shriek of laughter, dodging around a massive piece of equipment as your mother joins the chase. “Come here, Maus! It’s time for your nap!”

You shake your head furiously. “No nap! No nap!”

Corinna’s hand finally snags the back of your shirt, and you erupt into a fit of giggles as she pulls you into a hug ...

“That’s some smile you’ve got going there,” Fred notes with a wry grin. “I take it another happy memory?”

You give an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Just … remembering how this place used to be our personal jungle gym. Mick, Gina, and I would run absolute loops around Mama while she tried to wrangle us for nap time.”

Fred chuckles fondly. “I can picture three tiny terrors leaving chaos in their wake.” His expression softens. “It must be incredibly special to be back here after all these years. To follow in your father’s footsteps like this.”

You swallow hard against the swell of emotions. “It’s … overwhelming, if I’m being honest. But in the best possible way.” You glance around at the familiar setting with new eyes. “These halls practically raised me. And now … now I get to write my own chapter here.”

Fred gives your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “You’ve got a long road ahead, but I have complete faith you’ll make us all proud, Y/N.”

You straighten your shoulders, giving him a determined nod. “I’m ready.”

As you follow him further into the factory, you can’t help but revel in the rush of coming full circle. Yes, this team, this place, is indelibly woven into your childhood. But now … now it’s time to create new memories.

To race.

To win.

To become a legend.

***

The crowd outside the Ferrari headquarters swells as you emerge from the famous red doors for the first time as an official Scuderia Ferrari driver. Shouts and cheers erupt from every direction, fans pressing forward eagerly with pens and photos clutched in their hands.

“Over here, Y/N!”

“Un selfie, per favore!”

“Can you sign this for my daughter?”

You plaster on a polite smile, trying to graciously oblige as many autograph and photo requests as possible. But the throngs only grow more insistent, hands grabbing at you from all angles as the crowd closes in. Your heart races and you feel yourself starting to panic at the lack of personal space.

“Per favore, let her breathe!” An insistent voice cuts through the commotion in lightly accented Italian.

The crowd parts slightly as a familiar, lean figure pushes through — your new teammate. His green eyes meet yours with a reassuring look as he plants himself firmly by your side.

“Give her some space!” Charles barks out in English this time. “She can’t breathe!”

You shoot him a grateful glance as the fans reluctantly take a step back. Charles gently takes your arm and pulls you out of the scrum.

“Sorry about that,” he says with an apologetic smile, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. “I know how intense they can be around here.”

“No, thank you,” you reply earnestly. “I was about two seconds away from an anxiety attack.”

Charles chuckles. “Well, we can’t have the new driver cracking under pressure on day one.”

You make a face at his teasing remark. “Watch it, pretty boy.”

Laughing, Charles puts his arm around your shoulders in a friendly gesture. “Come on, I know just the place to escape the madness for a bit. Dinner’s on me.”

He guides you across the plaza and down a side street to a cozy trattoria — Ristorante Montana, known as the unofficial “Ferrari restaurant” frequented by team members. As you enter, a stout woman with a warm, welcoming smile emerges from the back.

“Ah, Charles! Welcome back. And this must be ...” Her eyes widen as they land on you. “Oh, la piccola principessa is all grown up!”

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond, but the woman has already swept you up in a tight embrace.

“Rossella, you’re smothering the poor girl!” A elderly man’s voice calls out in amused rebuke.

“Hush, Maurizio, and pour us some wine!” Rossella releases you and holds you at arm’s length, beaming. “Michael’s little girl, all woman now. I’ll never forget the first time your father brought you in here as a bambina.”

She gestures to a framed photo hanging on the wall of a much younger Rossella standing next to Michael, who is holding a grinning toddler — unmistakably you.

“He was so proud,” Rossella continues misty-eyed. “Just like I know he would be of you today, following in your father’s footsteps.”

You swallow hard, touched by the warm welcome and memory. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Charles watching you with a soft smile.

Rossella shifts gears abruptly, all business. “Now, what will you two have? The usual for you, Charles? And for you, la principessa, I insist you try the gnocchi al ragú. Just like my nonna used to make it.”

As Rossella whisks off to the kitchen, Maurizio appears with a bottle of deep red wine and two glasses.

“To new beginnings,” he toasts with a wink, pouring for you and Charles.

You raise your glass to clink against Charles’ with a smile. “New beginnings.”

Over pasta and wine, you and Charles fall into an easy rapport, bantering back and forth as the weight of the evening’s earlier stress dissipates. You find yourself repeatedly distracted by the dimpled grin that lights up his face whenever he laughs at one of your quips.

“So is this a regular hazing ritual you put all the rookies through?” You ask innocently. “Get them away from the crowds and ply them with wine so they’re too drunk to be nervous on day one?”

Charles barks out a laugh. “You’ve found me out! Although I do seem to recall my own initiation being a lot harder. Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.”

“Old age? You’re what …12?” You retort, eyes dancing with mirth.

The waiter arrives with the dessert menu, but Rossella shoos him away.

“No, no menu. I’m bringing you the tiramisu to share. My secret recipe.”

Charles groans in delight. “You’re a legend, Rossella.”

She pats his cheek affectionately before disappearing again. A comfortable silence falls between you and Charles as you each take a bite of the rich, velvety tiramisu.

“Mmmm, this is literally heaven,” you murmur happily.

Charles hums in agreement around another forkful.

Your eyes catch movement out of the corner and you turn to see Rossella returning, carrying a large framed photo under her arm. She sets it down on the empty chair next to you with a proud grin.

It’s a glamor shot of you from a recent photoshoot for Vogue Italia — hair and makeup impeccable, lips parted in a secret smile as you gaze directly at the camera.

Rossella rests a hand on your shoulder. “For me, bellissima? So we can hang la principessa right next to il padre.”

Touched, you take the proffered sharpie and scribble out a quick inscription before signing your name with a flourish at the bottom.

“Grazie mille,” Rossella breathes, throwing an arm around you to squeeze you against her ample frame. “You’ve made this old heart very happy tonight.”

When she finally releases you, you see Charles watching you both with a soft, almost wistful expression. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

As you and Charles prepare to depart, Rossella calls out once more. “You come back soon, eh principessa? I have more pictures to collect.”

You throw her a wink over your shoulder. “D’accordo, d’accordo. We’ll be back soon!”

Out on the street, you pause, conscious of the evening rapidly drawing to a close. You turn to Charles, studying him properly for the first time. His deep green eyes crinkle at the corners as he meets your gaze.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t swooped in to rescue me back there.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly, but his expression is kind. “We look out for our own in Ferrari. That’s what teammates are for, no?”

A beat passes, the momentary tension thickening between you. Then Charles seems to catch himself, clearing his throat.

“Anyway, I should let you get going before your handlers send out a search party. Need me to call you a car?”

“No, no I’m good,” you reply quickly, trying to mask your disappointment at the night ending. “My performance coach has the car around front.”

You start to turn away, then impulsively pivot back. Rising up on your toes, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a brief, platonic hug.

“Seriously, thank you,” you murmur in his ear. “For everything.”

As you pull back, your faces are just inches apart. Charles’ eyes are warm, his gaze intense. For a dizzying moment, you’re certain he’s going to kiss you. Then just as suddenly, the moment passes and he steps back with a friendly smile.

“Anytime, princesse. I’ll see you bright and early next week for our first time running the SF-23 on the simulator.”

With a wink, he turns and saunters off down the street, hands shoved in his pockets in that effortlessly cool way of his. You let out a long breath, flustered and exhilarated all at once.

Your performance coach has indeed been waiting with the car, looking mildly concerned. “Everything alright?”

You flash her a bright smile, practically skipping to the car. “It is now, Mara. It absolutely is.”

Your first day as a Ferrari driver was certainly more than you bargained for. But as you settle into the plush leather seats, you can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Something tells you this new chapter with the Scuderia is going to be an adventure — in more ways than one.

As Mara pulls away from the curb, you catch a final glimpse of Charles striding confidently down the street. Even from a distance, you can make out the dimpled smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning back against the headrest, you think back to the memory of his arm slung casually around your shoulders and sigh contentedly. Yes, you have a feeling this is just the beginning of what’s shaping up to be a very interesting partnership with Charles Leclerc.

***

Sebastian looks over the wine list, pretending to be engrossed in selecting the perfect vintage as he peers over the top of the menu. His eyes are fixated on the entrance to the upscale Italian restaurant, waiting for Charles and you to arrive.

This had better work, he thinks to himself. The two of you have been making googly eyes at each other for months now, but are both too stubborn to make a move.

Finally, the hostess leads Charles and you into the dining room. Sebastian ducks down, pulling the brim of his fedora lower over his face and adjusting the fake mustache he’s wearing as a disguise. He watches as the hostess shows Charles and you to an intimate table for two by the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating your faces.

“There must be some mistake,” Charles says, looking around in confusion. “I was under the impression we were meeting Sebastian here for dinner?”

You look equally perplexed. “That’s what he told me too. He said to meet at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Well this is just awkward,” Charles runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Should we wait for him or ...”

Before you can respond, the waiter arrives with a basket of bread and butter. “Good evening, my name is Gerardo and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“Actually, we’re still waiting on-” Charles begins, but the waiter cuts him off.

“Ah yes, Mr. Vettel asked me to inform you that he will be unable to join this evening after all. A last minute obligation came up. He insisted I take excellent care of you both and that the evening is on his treat.” Gerardo smiles broadly. “So what will you have to drink?”

Sebastian smirks to himself at his cleverly orchestrated ruse from his secluded table in the back corner. He watches with bated breath as a flustered Charles and you exchange an awkward look.

“I’ll have a glass of Chianti,” you say finally, breaking the tension.

“Make that two,” Charles adds with a resigned sigh.

As Gerardo heads off to grab your drinks, an uncomfortable silence falls over the table. “You know, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Charles says, ever the gentleman. “I’m sure there’s been some misunderstanding.”

“Don’t be silly,” you reply, offering him a warm smile that makes Sebastian’s heart melt a little. “It would be rude to ruin the evening Sebastian so carefully planned, even if he’s not actually here to enjoy it.”

Charles visibly relaxes at your acceptance of the situation. “You’re right, of course. If it’s a free dinner, we would be fools to turn that down!”

You both share a laugh, finally breaking the ice. Sebastian feels a swell of pride watching the two of you start to let your guards down around each other.

Over the next hour or so, Sebastian is delighted to see Charles and you become more at ease, trading jokes and stories over several delectable courses of pasta, veal, and freshly baked focaccia. He’s never seen either of you look so lighthearted and carefree, nor has he witnessed two people connect on such an organic, genuine level before. It’s positively magical to behold.

Gerardo arrives once more, this time bearing a decadent slice of torta della nonna for you to share for dessert. “Compliments of the house,” he announces with a wink before departing.

You immediately dig into the lemony confection with gusto. “Oh my god, this is dangerously good,” you moan through a mouthful of pastry cream and flaky crust.

Charles tries and fails to stifle a laugh at your unabashed enthusiasm. “You’ve got a little ...” he gestures vaguely at the corners of your mouth.

“What? Where?” You ask, attempting to wipe the stray crumbs and smears of powdered sugar from your cheeks.

“Here, let me,” Charles says softly, reaching across the table with his cloth napkin.

Sebastian watches with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest, as Charles tenderly swipes the napkin along your lips, his thumb grazing your cheek in the process. The moment seems to last an eternity, the two of you locked in each other’s smoldering gaze.

Then, ever so slowly, Charles leans across the table towards you. Sebastian can scarcely breathe as he witnesses the magnetic pull drawing the two of you together. This is it, this is finally happening, he marvels silently.

Sebastian lets out an inadvertent yelp of glee and instantly slaps his hands over his mouth. A table of nearby diners turns to gawk at the strange mustached man.

“Ahem, sorry! Hairball,” Sebastian rasps out in a terrible Italian accent. He slinks down in the booth, burning with embarrassment as the other patrons slowly turn away with disgusted looks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Charles and you also turn towards the commotion, the heated moment effectively ruined. Damn it, he was so close!

You and Charles eventually turn back towards each other, the awkwardness having returned. “We should, uh, probably ask for the check soon,” Charles mumbles, unable to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve got an early training session in the morning anyway,” you reply, the disappointment evident in your voice as you stare down at the table.

Inwardly cursing his rotten luck, Sebastian motions for the bill and slips his black credit card into the folder when Gerardo brings it. He knows the only way to redeem this night is to insist you and Charles stay for one more drink. Maybe add a little more wine confidence to help reignite that spark you both nearly combusted over just moments ago.

As Gerardo whisks away to process Sebastian’s payment, the older German steels his nerves. He removes his ridiculous disguise, straightens his tie, and makes his way over to your table with purpose.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sebastian asks with an exaggerated wink as he reaches you. “It appears Mr. Leclerc and Miss Schumacher were stood up this evening. For shame!”

“Ah, Seb!” Charles laughs in surprise at seeing his friend and former teammate. “We should have known you were behind this madness.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a menace! I can’t believe you tricked us like that.”

Sebastian claps his hands together and flashes you both a devilish grin. “What can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic who cannot abide two clearly smitten people tiptoeing around each other any longer. Now, Gerardo is going to bring you the finest Barolo they have, on my dime, and you are going to remedy this sexual tension situation once and for all over another bottle or three!”

Charles opens his mouth to protest, but you laugh delightedly and nod towards Sebastian. “You know what, I could go for another drink. What do you say, Charles?”

The older Ferrari driver seems to wilt under the weight of your brilliant smile, Sebastian can’t fault the man for that. “Ah, what the hell,” Charles shrugs, throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Let’s see where this night takes us!”

Sebastian settles in, pouring you all generous glasses of the deep ruby wine when Gerardo delivers it. He may be getting on in years, but his matchmaking job has only just begun. One way or another, he’s determined to ensure his two protégés quit stumbling over each other and finally discover the romance that’s been blossoming under their noses all along.

Sipping his wine, Sebastian gazes at you and Charles, sees the tenderness flickering in both your eyes as you lean in closer together over the candlelight. He smiles contentedly to himself.

Mission accomplished.

***

The paddock is mostly deserted at this late hour, the muffled sounds of the teams packing up drifting in from the garages. You linger near the Ferrari motorhome, watching Charles sitting alone on a stack of tires, shoulders slumped. He’s been increasingly withdrawn these past few days leading up to the Japanese Grand Prix.

You approach slowly, not wanting to startle him. “Charles? You okay?”

He looks up, managing a small smile when he sees you. “Hey, mon amour.”

There’s a weariness to his voice that tugs at your heart. You take a seat beside him, letting your arm brush against his in a subtle show of support. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Charles is silent for a long moment, pulling his helmet off and turning it over in his hands. “It’s Suzuka,” he finally says, so softly you have to lean in to hear him. “Being back here … it’s difficult.”

Your brow furrows. Right, this is where Jules Bianchi crashed, his accident eventually proving fatal. Charles had been incredibly close with his mentor and godfather. “I can’t even imagine how painful this must be.” You cover his hand with yours. “Having to race on the same track ...”

“I relive that day over and over.” Charles’s accented voice is thick with emotion. “I can still see the footage of his car slamming into the crane, like it’s burned into my mind. He was my friend, my godfather, like a brother to me. And now every year, I have to come back to this place that took him from us far too soon.” He squeezes his eyes shut, a stray tear escaping.

“Oh, Charles ...” You wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. His body is rigid at first before melting against you, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him tightly as his breath hitches with suppressed sobs, your own eyes stinging. How many times has he bottled up this grief, putting on a brave face for the world?

“I’m so sorry,” you murmur, stroking his back. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve carried all these years. But Jules wouldn’t want you torturing yourself like this.” You pull away enough to frame his face with your hands, meeting his reddened eyes. “He’d want you to keep living, to keep pursuing your dream that he helped nurture. He’d be so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”

Charles manages a watery smile, covering one of your hands with his. “You’re right. Thank you, chérie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He leans in, resting his forehead against yours with a shuddering sigh. “I just miss him so much some days. Like an ache I can’t shake.”

“I know.” You brush away the dampness on his cheeks with your thumbs. “Believe me, I understand that ache all too well.”

A crease forms between Charles’s brows as he regards you intently. “Your papa.”

You give a solemn nod. “Everyone talks about him like he’s gone. But he’s not, he’s still here, still breathing. It’s just … he’s not the same man I grew up with anymore.” You blink back tears of your own. “Sometimes I’ll see flashes that remind me so much of how Papa used to be. And then that illusion is shattered and I’m grieving all over again for the person he was.”

Charles’ arms wrap around you fully, tucking your head under his chin. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Seeing those glimpses of the man he was, only to have that hope ripped away.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

You let out a choked laugh. “Yeah, definitely doesn’t feel like it most days.” Pulling away, you try for a smile. “But we Schumachers are fighters. We don’t stay down for long.”

“That’s my girl.” Charles grins, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m lucky to have you by my side through all of this craziness. I don’t know what I’d do without your support, especially this weekend.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to fully face him, clasping his hands in yours. “Charles, you’ve been my rock too, you know that? Signing with Ferrari this year, following in my father’s footsteps … the pressure has been immense. But you’ve never let me crumble under it. You’re always there with a laugh or a hug or some silly joke to make me smile even on the hardest days.”

Charles’s grin turns lopsided, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Well, someone has to keep that ego of yours from inflating too much, future champion.” He leans in until his lips are a mere breath from yours. “But in all seriousness, we’re in this together, okay? No matter what the future holds, I’ll always have your back.”

“I know,” you murmur, feeling his words like a soothing balm over the parts of your heart still aching for your father as you once knew him. “And I’ll always have yours. We’re a team, on and off the track.” You close the distance between you, kissing him deeply.

Charles returns the kiss with fervor, his fingers threading through your hair to hold you close. The worries plaguing you both seem to temporarily fade into the background amid the warmth and solidity of his embrace. When you finally break apart, breathless, his emerald gaze holds an intensity that steals the air from your lungs in the best way.

“Je t’aime,” he murmurs, the endearment like a vow falling from his lips. “No matter what happens out there tomorrow, or any other race day, that will never change. You and me against the world, princesse.”

You flash him a coy smile, feeling desire begin to simmer low in your belly. “Is that a promise, Mr. Leclerc?”

“Mmm, I can make it one if you’d like.” Charles waggles his eyebrows, making you giggle as his hands roam freely over your back and sides, pulling you flush against him. His voice drops to a husky whisper. “Maybe I can find more convincing ways to pledge my devotion once we’re back at the hotel.”

“I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to that,” you say breathily, leaning in to nip at his lower lip in a way that makes him groan. “Though if memory serves, I seem to recall you saying something about honoring the team’s curfew tonight?” You trail openmouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. “Wouldn’t want to be … sleep deprived before the race.”

Charles’s fingers flex against your hips as he lets out a shuddering breath. “You’re really testing my willpower here.”

“Payback for all those times you’ve tortured me.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp nip to the sensitive skin below his ear, making him jerk against you with a strangled sound. Pulling back, you smirk at the glazed look in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

He blinks slowly, then his gaze narrows in a way that makes heat flare across your skin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that later.” His voice is low, almost a growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“I look forward to it.” You lean in until your lips are nearly brushing his again.

“Tease,” Charles accuses, though his kiss quickly swallows any further retort.

You lose yourself in the press of his mouth, the exploring glide of his hands over your body, the undeniable chemistry that still sometimes takes your breath away. When you finally break apart, gasping for air, you stay wrapped in each other’s arms, foreheads resting together.

“Thank you,” Charles murmurs after a long beat of comfortable silence. “For always knowing how to pull me out of my own head. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s what partners are for,” you say simply, brushing back the silken strands of chestnut hair falling over his forehead. His eyes are so warm, so full of love and adoration, you feel it envelop you like a cozy blanket. “I’ll always be here to lean on, just like you are for me.”

Charles catches your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your palm. “And I’m grateful for that every single day. Facing the good times and bad, together.” His thumb strokes over your knuckles. “I know Suzuka will never be easy, not with the weight of the memories here. But you make the burden feel lighter. Like no matter what, I’ll be okay as long as I have you by my side.”

You lean in, brushing a featherlight kiss across his lips. “Always. No matter what the future holds, you’re stuck with me, Leclerc.”

A slow, utterly content smile spreads across his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He steals another lingering kiss before glancing toward the pit area, where the last few stragglers are packing up for the night. “As much as I’d love to keep you all to myself, I suppose we should try to get some rest before tomorrow.”

Sliding off the tire stack, he offers you his hand, that warm gleam still dancing in his forest-colored eyes. “Though maybe we could indulge in a long, hot shower first? You know, to … unwind after such an emotionally draining evening.”

You raise an eyebrow at his transparent attempt at nonchalance, but can’t help a smirk from tugging at your lips. “Why, Mr. Leclerc, are you propositioning me?”

“Would that be so terrible?” He tugs you into his arms, leaving a trail of teasing kisses along your jaw. “After all, we did have quite the … charged conversation just now. I’d hate for all that pent-up tension to distract us on track tomorrow.”

You let out a breathless giggle as his wandering hands and lips leave tingles across your skin. “Well, when you put it that way … I suppose a nice, relaxing shower could be just what we need to clear our heads.” Looping your arms around his neck, you meet his heated gaze through lowered lashes. “Lead the way, liebling.”

Charles’ responding grin is nothing short of wolfish. “With pleasure.” Scooping you up in his arms, he heads for the parking lot at a swift pace, leaving the weight of Suzuka and its ghosts behind for the night.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you bring your Ferrari across the finish line, tires smoking from the incredible pace. Your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio, congratulating you, but the words are drowned out by the thunderous cheers echoing around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.

You can hardly believe it. Your first season with the Scuderia and you’ve just won the Italian Grand Prix — on the hallowed ground that your father once ruled. The sea of fans decked out in red is a sight to behold, celebrating wildly as you complete the cool-down lap.

Pulling into parc fermé, you kill the engine, the high-pitched whine slowly dying away. Undoing the straps, you clamber out, still trying to process what just happened. This is really real.

“You!”

The familiar voice makes you turn. It’s Charles, beaming from ear-to-ear despite settling for second place today. He pulls you into a massive hug, squeezing you tightly.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Amazing drive!”

You laugh, giddy with joy and adrenaline. “I still can’t believe it either! Everything just … clicked.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Charles chuckles, ruffling your sweat-damp hair. “You were incredible out there. Absolutely brilliant.”

Hearing the praise from your boyfriend means everything. You know how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get this far. And he’s still your biggest supporter.

The two of you finally pull apart as the rest of the team makes their presence known, congratulating you with bearhugs and massive pats on the back. You did it — you brought the victory home for Ferrari at the Temple of Speed.

After the chaos of the post-race celebrations dies down a little, it’s time for the podium ceremony. You can’t wait to stand up there, basking in the adulation of the wildly passionate Tifosi. As you make your way out with Charles and the third place finisher, the crowd’s cheers swell to a new eardrum-bursting level.

Climbing the steps, you take your spot on the top level, heart racing as you look out over the endless sea of fans. The air is filled with brilliant red smoke, passionate flag-wavers creating mesmerizing patterns. You’ve seen Grands Prix in Italy before, but being up here, having actually won — it’s on another level entirely.

Speeches are made, anthems are played, and then it’s time to crack open the podium champagne. As the bottles are picked up, a rolling chant starts building in the grandstands:

“La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

The sound shakes you to your core. Tears instantly spring to your eyes.

Charles, beside you on the second step, grins and nudges you. “Listen to them! You’ve done it — you’ve made them fall in love with you just like they did with your father.”

Looking down at him with misty eyes, you mouth, “Thank you,” so overwhelmed that you can’t speak. He slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. The two of you share a soft kiss as the chanting grows louder and louder.

As you pull back, gazing out over the surging tide of humanity, faces beaming up at you in adoration, it finally sinks in. This moment — winning at Monza for Ferrari, with Charles by your side, the Tifosi embracing you wholeheartedly — is beyond anything you ever could have dreamed.

The emotions pour out in waves of joy and pride and disbelief. You raise your bottle high, echoing the chants and cheering your heart out to the crowd. They roar back even louder, feeding off your energy in the way that only this group of diehard fans can.

Once the champagne showers subside, giddy fans whistling at you and Charles canoodling on the podium, it’s time to head back down. But the celebrations are just getting started. The team wants to keep the party going.

On the drive over to Maranello, you find yourself sandwiched in the backseat between Charles and your race engineer, Ricky. Everyone is grinning like maniacs, high on the thrill of victory, singing drinking songs at the top of their lungs.

“Solo per lei! Principessa di Monza!” Ricky bellows, gently elbowing you. The rest join in, filling the car with the chant of “Only for her! Princess of Monza!” You can’t stop giggling, leaning into Charles, deliriously happy.

Once you finally roll up to the factory, the party spills out of the car and into the streets. The entire workforce has turned out, waving huge Ferrari flags, beating drums and sounding air horns in celebration. You’re immediately swarmed, being passed from hug to hug as champagne is sprayed in joyful arcs.

They finally manage to sweep you, Charles, and most of your garages inside the factory, where long banquet tables have been set up in the main hall. An enormous cheer goes up as you enter, sparkling wine sloshing from hastily poured glasses all around you.

The meal that follows is a total blur — amazing food, flowing alcohol, raucous toasts, and the happiest pandemonium you’ve ever witnessed. You keep getting tugged from conversation to conversation, everyone wanting to hear how the race played out from your lips. Charles sticks by your side the whole time, looking on with sheer pride.

At one point, you end up going shot for shot with Fred Vasseur, the team principal pouring vodka like his job depends on it. “La mia principessa!” He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. “You’ve made us all so proud today!”

He hoists his glass. “To our Princess! The Princess of Monza!”

The chant starts up again all around you. “La Prin-ci-pess-a! La Prin-ci-pess-a!”

You beam at them all, squeezing Fred’s hand. No words can describe this feeling, being embraced so completely by your team — your family. This is what you’ve dreamed about since you were a little girl. Following in your father’s footsteps, bringing glory to Ferrari, carrying on the legend.

The party rages on long into the night. At some point, you lose track of time completely, delirious with exhaustion from the whirlwind of emotion.

You come around for a moment, blinking in the dim glow of the factory lights. There’s quiet rumbles of laughter around you, echoing off the walls. Looking around blearily, you realize you’ve been tucked into a makeshift bed fashioned from a pile of Ferrari t-shirts, nestled in one of the car assembly spaces.

Charles is there too, cradled against your side, one arm wrapped protectively around you. The rest of the team — your PR officers, engineers, mechanics, everyone — is strewn about in similar nests, all of them totally conked out.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle deeper into Charles’ embrace, feeling his lips brush the top of your head. This bizarre, wonderful scene seems to encapsulate everything about being part of the Ferrari family. It’s chaotic and overwhelming and unlike anything else in the world.

But most of all, it’s home.

As you start to drift back to sleep, savoring the lingering scent of champagne and motor oil, one final chant echoes in your head:

La principessa di Monza.

La principessa di Ferrari.

***

11 Months Later

The last few laps feel like they’re happening in slow motion. Every turn, every gear shift, every tiny input to the steering wheel is magnified tenfold as the circuits count down. The pressure is immense, but you’ve been here before. You can do this.

“Stay calm, stay focused,” your race engineer’s voice crackles over the radio. “The calculations look good. Just bring it home steady.”

Nodding to yourself, you downshift entering the stadium section, the roar of the massive crowd surrounding the Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez swelling in your ears. This is it — your chance to join the likes of motorsport’s greatest heroes by winning the Formula 1 World Championship.

Your first victory at Monza, being crowned the “Principessa di Ferrari” by the adoring Tifosi, was a dream come true. But this … this is what you’ve worked towards since you were old enough to understand what your father achieved. To etch your name into the history books forever.

The laps tick by agonizingly. Every time the pitboard comes into view, your heart rate spikes. But you’ve got a comfortable gap to second place, managing the race perfectly. Just a few more corners now.

“Final lap, final lap,” your engineer calls out. “Looking brilliant. Stay comfortable and you’ve got this!”

You suck in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Out of the sweeping Curve 3 and onto the pit straight, the crowd’s thunderous cheers are reaching fever pitch. You can see the seas of red-clad fans absolutely losing their minds, knowing the woman they idolize is about to achieve immortality.

Crossing the finish line, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding for what feels like ages. The emotion is overwhelming — a combination of pure elation, disbelief, and total exhaustion.

You did it.

World Champion at last!

You cruise around, yelling unintelligibly into the radio as the celebrations kick off around the circuit. There’s confetti in the air, smoke flares going off in brilliant shades of red, and a full-throated roar that could probably be heard all the way back in Europe.

Pulling into parc fermé, you switch off the car, letting the weight of the moment sink in. Tears of joy prick at your eyes as the magnitude of your achievement hits home. Ever since you were a little girl, running around watching your papa, this has been the ultimate dream for you.

And now, it’s finally happened. You’re a World Champion. Just like him.

The first person to reach you is Charles. He comes sprinting over from his own car, bounding past the marshals without a second look. One glimpse of the huge smile plastered across his face is all it takes for you to dissolve into giggles and delirious tears.

“You did it! You brilliant, brilliant woman, you did it!” He shouts, grabbing you up in his arms and spinning you around in a whirlwind hug.

“I can’t believe it, Charles! It felt like a dream … like it wasn’t really happening!”

You’re both laughing and crying at the same time, drunk on the euphoria of the moment. Clutching each other tightly, you press your foreheads together, trying in vain to compose yourselves.

“I’m so proud of you,” Charles murmurs, gazing at you with adoring eyes. “You worked so incredibly hard for this. You deserve everything.”

Surging forward, you capture his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. For a few brief moments, the two of you are alone, lost in the depth of your emotions and your all-encompassing love for each other. Nothing else in the world matters but this perfect second frozen in time.

You finally break apart, breathless, when the rest of the team sweeps in to congratulate you. They swarm around in a laughing, whooping mass, jumping up and down, hugging, chanting your name over and over.

“To our champion! The Queen!”

The cry comes from Antonio, one of the veteran mechanics who’s been with the team since your papa’s days. He clasps your hands tightly, gazing at you with pride.

“Sei la regina! The Queen of Ferrari!” He hollers over the raucous din, tears shining in his eyes. “Just like your father, you’ll reign forever!”

Your eyes start brimming over again, overwhelmed. The tears roll down your cheeks, smearing streaks of sweat and grime from the race. But you can’t stop beaming.

All at once, the rest of the crew picks up on Antonio’s declaration. Their cheers and chants coalesce into one booming refrain:

“La Re-gi-na! La Re-gi-na!”

The sheer adulation washes over you in waves, every face beaming up at you in utter reverence. You find yourself struggling to take it all in. In a few incredible seasons, you’ve elevated yourself into the realm of legend in their eyes.

Charles wraps his arms around you from behind, steadying you as your knees start to go weak. You can feel his smile radiant against your neck as he cheers and whoops right along with the rest of them.

“You hear them?” He chuckles, kissing your temple. “It’s all for you, mia regina! My Queen.”

Hearing your love, your partner, your other half call you that sets off a fresh round of giggles and sobs. Turning in his embrace, you loop your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him deeply.

When you finally part, you look out over the still-roaring crowd, many of them carrying elaborate signs with intricate drawings depicting you as a regal sovereign. Some have fashioned ornate crowns out of random merch and foam, holding them high. Others set off flares and smoke bombs in Ferrari red.

For a moment, their euphoric cheers fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rush of blood in your ears. Closing your eyes, you let the enormity of the moment wash over you, embracing the pride and humility and disbelieving joy.

This is your coronation. The new ruler of the Scuderia — la regina di Ferrari.

“La Regina di Ferrari! La Regina del Mondo!”

You can only chuckle in disbelief, Antonio and Ricky carefully taking your hands to hoist you up onto their shoulders in throne-like celebration. Charles is right by your side, standing vigil as your King Consort.

As the party spreads out around you, confetti and smoke filling the air, you look out across the ecstatic crowd. All you see are fervent faces, worshiping you as their new Queen of the World.

It’s a delirious scene that you never, ever could’ve imagined. And yet it feels so natural, so right. Like you were born to be in the center of this storm of jubilation. This is your true home.

And now, you’ve taken your rightful place as its ruler.

Mexico City burns long into the night in tribute to the newly-coronated Queen. Tomorrow, the party will likely continue all the way back to Maranello. But in this moment, you’re lost in the swirl of ecstasy, allowing yourself to be swept up in the currents of adoration.

La Regina di Ferrari.

La Regina del Mondo.

***

Eight Years Later

Jules can barely contain his excitement as you and Charles help him into the little red race suit. He’s practically vibrating with energy, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Easy there, petit coureur,” Charles chuckles, ruffling Jules’ hair affectionately. “We’ll get you suited up and on the track soon enough.”

“I’m gonna beat everyone!” Jules declares confidently. You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“That’s my boy,” you say with a wink. “Just like your Papa and me.”

Charles grins and pulls Jules into a hug. “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Today’s just for fun though, remember? No official points or anything.”

“I know, I know,” Jules says impatiently. “But I’m still gonna win!”

You laugh and swing him up into your arms, peppering his face with kisses until he squeals with delight. “Whatever you say, liebling. Now let’s get you out on that track!”

The three of you make your way out to the karting circuit, hand-in-hand. You can already see a small crowd starting to form along the fences, phones and cameras at the ready. A familiar scenario, even at such a low-key local event.

“Mama, Papa, look!” Jules points excitedly. “Those people want to take pictures!”

“That’s right, schatzi,” you say gently. “Your Papa and I are pretty well known in motorsports.”

“Like movie stars?” His eyes go wide.

Charles laughs. “Something like that, I suppose. More like … really famous racecar drivers.”

“Whoa ...” Jules seems to be processing this new realization. “You’re the best ever, right? The bestest?”

You share an amused look with Charles. “Well, we’ve had our fair share of success,” you hedge.

“Your mother is a multi-time World Champion,” Charles says proudly. “As am I. We did pretty okay, I think.”

“Woooaahh!” Jules looks absolutely awestruck, like his little mind has been blown. It’s both adorable and bittersweet — your own child, only just now grasping the level of your accomplishments and fame.

The crowd has grown considerably by the time you reach the pit area, people pressing against the barriers in hopes of getting a glimpse of the royal family of Maranello. A small team of event staff try valiantly to keep order, but it’s a losing battle.

“Excuse me! Y/N! Can we get a photo?”

“Charles! Over here, please!”

“Oh my god, is that little Jules? He’s so cute!”

Jules clings a bit closer to you and Charles, startled by the commotion. You pull him protectively against your side.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “Just some fans who are excited to see us.”

Charles gives the crowd a regretful smile and a small wave before ushering you both past the security team and into the pit area. The calmer, more controlled setting seems to ease Jules’ nerves.

“Why were all those people yelling and taking pictures?” He asks with a small frown.

“Like I said, we’re pretty famous racers,” Charles explains patiently. “A lot of people know who we are and want our autographs or photos with us.”

“Like celebrities!” Jules says, the admiring light returning to his eyes.

You laugh and ruffle his hair again. “Something like that, yeah. Your Papa and I have had a very successful racing career over the years.”

“The best careers,” Charles amends with a wink at you. “Multiple world titles each.”

“World titles?” Jules looks utterly baffled by the concept. “Like … the best in the whole world?”

“Exactly,” you confirm, feeling that familiar swell of pride. “We were the fastest drivers in the world, for a few years at least.”

“Whooaa ...” Jules seems torn between awe and disbelief. “You’re like … superheroes!”

You and Charles both crack up at the adorable comparison.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Charles laughs, “but I suppose to some we come pretty close, eh?”

He scoops Jules up and swings him around, making him shriek with laughter. You watch them with a content smile, suddenly aware of how blessed you are to have this life — your incredible husband, your precious son, the career successes you both achieved. It’s more than you ever could have dreamed.

“Alright,” Papa says, setting Jules back down. “Why don’t you go grab your kart and we’ll get you out on the track? Think you can take on the world champions?”

Jules gives a determined nod, that familiar fire blazing in his eyes — the same look you’ve seen in your husband’s familiar green ones a thousand times over the years. “You bet! I’ll show you how it’s done!”

With one last hair ruffle, you send him scampering off excitedly. Charles slides an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?” He murmurs against your temple. “So much like us at that age. I can already tell he’s going to be a hell of a driver someday.”

You lean into his embrace with a contented sigh. “He is … and just look at how the crowd reacted to him. He’s barely grasped that we’re famous, and now he’s already getting mobbed himself. Our little star in the making.”

Charles makes a rueful sound. “We’re going to have to get used to that, I suppose.”

“Oh, I think we can handle it,” you say lightly. “We’ve had plenty of practice being in the spotlight, after all.”

He laughs and drops a kiss to your hair. “That’s true enough. As long as we stick together, we can get through anything.”

“Exactly.” You turn in his arms to face him properly, cupping his jaw tenderly. “You, me, Jules … nothing else matters as long as we have each other.”

Charles’ eyes are warm with devotion as he gazes down at you. “My soulmate. My family. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He leans in to kiss you, slow and sweet, the rest of the world temporarily fading away. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of his embrace, the love you share-

“Ewww, gross! Stop kissing!”

You break apart with a laugh to find Jules making over-exaggerated gagging noises nearby.

“And the moment’s ruined,” Charles teases, keeping an arm looped around your waist.

You bend down to Jules’ eye level with a mock stern look. “You just wait until you’re all grown up with a sweetheart of your own. Then you’ll understand.”

He scrunches up his nose theatrically. “Never! Girls are gross!”

You and Charles share an amused look.

“If you say so,” Charles chuckles. “Now let’s get that kart fired up.”

Jules’ entire demeanor shifts in an instant, that fierce competitiveness surfacing once again. He scrambles into the cockpit of his little kart and takes firm hold of the wheel, looking suddenly years beyond his age.

“You’re going down!” He declares brazenly. “I’ll leave you both in the dust!”

And just like that, the proud parents are replaced by your familiar racing mentalities — the thrill of competition, the desire to win. You share a conspiratorial grin with Charles.

“Is that so?” He taunts playfully. “In that case, no more taking it easy on you two.”

You bend down to kiss Jules’ forehead, unable to resist a parting quip. “Promise you won’t be sad … because Mama always wins.”

With that, Charles heads off to grab his own kart, leaving you and Jules alone for a brief moment. He looks up at you with shining eyes.

“You’re my hero, Mama,” he says simply. “And Papa too. I wanna be just like you when I grow up!”

You feel your heart swell fit to burst, filled with more love than you could possibly put into words. Bending down, you pull your beautiful little boy into a fierce hug, eyes shining with unshed happy tears.

“Oh liebling … you already are. You’re everything we could have dreamed of and more.”

You press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, overwhelmed with affection. When you finally pull back, there are indeed tears shining in your eyes.

“Now go show your parents what you’ve got, baby,” you say with a watery smile. “I can’t wait to see you out there.”

Jules gives you a determined nod, eyes blazing with that trademark fire. “You got it, Mama! Get ready to lose!”

With that, he slams down the visor on his helmet and revs the little engine. You step back with a laugh, watching him peel out onto the track with all the confidence and flair of a seasoned pro. Like parents, like son indeed.

By the time Charles rejoins you, his own kart idling beside yours, Jules has already completed a couple of warm up laps. You can’t resist shooting Charles a smug grin.

“Well, well … looks like the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. He drives just like you.”

Charles snorts, clearly trying to downplay his obvious pride. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s all your genes coming through.”

You open your mouth to protest, but a sudden commotion from the fences draws your attention. The crowd has grown even larger, people pressing against the barriers with raised phones and voices calling out excitedly.

“Oh my god, it’s them!”

“They’re so cute together!!”

“Over here, please! This way!”

You share a resigned look with Charles as event staff rush to try and control the growing swarm.

“This is what it’s going to be like from now on, isn’t it?” You murmur. “Our little family, constantly in the spotlight.”

Charles shrugs, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he watches Jules blaze by. “What else is new? We’ve been there our whole careers. At least this time, we get to share the fame together … as a family.”

You lean into his side with a contented smile. Out on the track, Jules whips past in a blur of determination, completely unbothered by the fawning crowd. Just a little boy living out his dream, regardless of who his parents might be.

“You know what?” You say softly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Charles drops a kiss to your hair as the roar of the crowd and engines swells around you. “Me neither, mon amour. I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

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obsesssedblerd · 24 days

Text

Part Four (2): “I promise, I’ll make this right.”

- the jjk men promising to be a better partner for you after they forget your anniversary.

final [second] written part of this smau series.

Pt. 2: Choso, Shiu, and Gojo

Contains: angst to comfort

a/n: and here’s the last, last part with the remaining characters! again, thank you so much for being so patient! <3 once again, sorry for any mistakes!

---

CHOSO

Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were actually ready to confront Choso, but you know that it’s time. You stand in front of the door to his house, and knock. You wait for less than a minute, then the door opens to reveal Yuuji on the other side, rubbing his tired eyes. His pink hair was messy, so you know that he woke up from a nap not too long ago.

When he registers that it’s you, he gasps loudly, then holds up a hand and smiles nervously. “H-Hi! Um, wait just a minute, I’ll grab him! Please don’t leave this spot.”

“I won’t leave, Yuuji.”

His smile falters a bit. “No, seriously, please don’t. Me, Cho, and Megumi couldn’t find you for days.”

You place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I promise,” you say slowly, “I won’t leave.”

“Good. Be right back.” He gives you a thumbs up, closes the door, and you hear him scream from behind it, “Choso!! CHOSO!!! She’s outside, so stop blasting your sad music and get down these damn stairs!! No, I’m not kidding, why would I do that?!”

You blink in shock, then Yuuji opens the door once more to smile sweetly at you. “He’ll be out in just a moment.”

“Uh- Alright, thanks.”

Not too long after, Choso appears. You can immediately tell that he hasn’t been sleeping much the last few days. Other than that, he looks relieved to see you there. He reaches towards you to hug you, then stops himself, remembering the situation. “Hi,” he quietly greets.

“Hi. Walk with me?” He nods, and you two walk side-by-side to a nearby park. You let the silence drag for only a few minutes before you ask him the question that’s been weighing on you for the last couple of days.

“Be honest. Before we got together, did you want to date Yuki at one point?”

Are you only with me because you weren’t able to get with her?

Choso stops in his tracks, and looks over at you, eyes blown wide with shock. “No. Never. We’re just friends, like I’ve told you before. I know it seems like-”

You hold up a hand. “Cho, please just understand where I’m coming from. The-”

“I do understand,” he says desperately, taking a step closer to you. “Of course I do. That's all I’ve been thinking about. I chose to hang out with her instead of you, numerous times. It’s unfair to you, I know, but I swear-”

“I feel like you love her.” Your biggest fear of your relationship flies out your mouth, and tears rush to your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “Every single time, it’s her. It feels like it won’t matter how special something is—like our anniversary—because you’ll run to her the second she asks you to hang out and completely forget about me.” You take a breath and exhale slowly, trying not to make yourself look even more pathetic. “I’m tired, Cho.”

“Listen to me. I do not love Yuki,” Choso says slowly. “Not now, not in secret, not ever. I am in love with you. You’re the one I want to wake up next to every morning, you’re the only one I trust when it comes to helping my siblings, and you’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He scoops your hand into his. “There’s no way in hell that I would choose her or any other woman over you, so I’m begging you, please get that out of your head.”

Before you can use a sleeve to wipe your tears, he wipes them for you, then uses his hand to cup your cheek. “I’m so sorry for hurting you. You spent so long planning the dinner for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it like it was nothing. I wish I could go back in time, but I can’t. All I can do is beg for another chance to be a better boyfriend. So, please, let me have another chance.”

You notice that his eyes are also watery. You’re about to point it out, but he hugs you tightly before you can, his body slightly trembling. “These last few days have been killing me, because I’ve messed up so bad to the point where you think I’m in love with another woman, when you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life. I don’t want anyone but you. I could never choose anyone over you. I don’t care who they are.”

He rubs a comforting hand up and down your back. “Please,” he repeats once more.

“Never again, Choso,” you mutter shakily. “I mean it.”

He sighs in relief, then kisses you. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Walk back with me? I have your present back at the house. Then, we can plan another dinner, and something special after that.”

---

SHIU

When you enter the hotel room, you see Shiu Kong there, leaning in the chair with a light, but nervous smile. “Hey, princess.”

The door shuts, and you furrow your brows in confusion. “How the fuck did you get in here?”

“Well, you weren’t answering your phone anymore, so I found a different way to track you.”

Your brain whirrs with multiple possible scenarios, then you roll your eyes when you figure it out. “You asked Toji, didn’t you?” Your work partner was the only one who knew your location.

“I had to blackmail him in order to find out where you were. It wasn’t easy.”

You give him a fake smile. “Well, I don’t really care about that. You should leave.”

“No.”

“Shiu. Don’t piss me off,” you warn. “Go.”

“Not until we talk.”

You cross your arms. “It’s either you leave, or I will handle you the same way I’d handle any person that comes into my room without my knowledge or permission.”

Shiu holds his hands up. “I’ll let you shoot me after I apologize.”

“You’ve already apologized plenty over text. I already told you that I’m done. I’m better off focusing on work, and you’re better off just hanging out with your friends.”

“Can you stop saying that shit? Baby, please, I swear that missing our anniversary dinner was a horrible mistake, and I’ll never make it again if you give me another chance.” When you don’t answer, he sighs desperately, taking a chance with his life and walking over to where you’re standing. “I’m sorry, princess. I completely understand why you’re pissed, and like I said, I’d let you shoot me if it’ll make you feel better. However, I will say that I can’t let you go. I love you.”

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Look, that’s sweet and all, but I don’t think you understand how awful it is knowing that your boyfriend chose a random night of drinking with his friends over a romantic dinner that you spent weeks planning. It makes it hard to believe that you even like me, let alone love me.”

“I understand why you’re doubting my feelings for you. Anyone would after their lover forgets their anniversary. But I promise, I do love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll show you. I’ll make you feel it. Please give me a chance to fix this.”

“...But what if you don’t?”

“Then I’ll let you kill me, like you’ve killed your other boyfriend after he fucked up and broke your heart.” When you raise your brow in question, he answers you, “Toji told me about that when he warned me to leave you alone earlier. Not taking his side at all. Heard he was an asshole, anyway. But, I’m serious. If I don’t do better, and I hurt you again, I won’t run or fight back when you come to kill me.”

“Shiu, I don’t want to kill you,” you say, slightly frustrated. “I just want you to care more.”

His thumb brushes underneath your eyes. You didn’t even know that you started crying. “I know, princess, ‘m so sorry. I promise, I’ll never make you cry again, and I’ll be better.” He’s relieved when you allow him to hug you. “Come home, okay? We’ll talk more there, and then I’ll start making this up to you.”

You nod, then rest your head on his shoulder. “You do know that Toji’s more than likely going to kick your ass for blackmailing him, right?”

“You’re in my arms again, so it was worth it.”

---

GOJO

You’re speeding through the hallways of Jujutsu Tech, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. An hour ago, you got a text from Maki, your precious second-year student, telling you that something bad happened and that you need to come to the school quickly.

“Maki, I’m here! Are you okay?!” You shout as you burst into the empty classroom. You find her, and you tilt your head in confusion.

She looks fine. In fact, she’s standing next to a Yuuta Okkotsu, who looks like he’s about to vomit. “S-Sensei! I-”

Maki cuts him off with her usual, sharp glare. “Not. A. Word.”

Inumaki and Panda are also there, and across the room, the three first years are standing stiffly.

Something’s up.

“Okay,” you say to the students as you cross your arms. “What on earth is going on?”

Nobara looks over at Yuuji, who’s sweating nervously, and raises a brow. “Um… Haha,” he laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Don’t look at me like that, Kugisaki. H-He should be here any second, I swear!”

He?

Suddenly, Satoru Gojo teleports in. “What’s going on?” He asks as he looks over at the students. “I didn’t see a threat outside of the school. Yuuji said something bad happened?”

“Great!” Nobara claps her hands together. “You’re both here!”

Satoru goes quiet, and you raise an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah?”

Maki points to you and Satoru. “You two need to talk.”

“...Sorry?”

“You two need to talk!” Nobara repeats Maki’s words. “Listen, we can’t stand having our two favorite teachers separated like this. [Y/L/N]-sensei has been gone for days!”

“Plus, Gojo-sensei, you’ve been super stressed!” Yuuji shouts in defense. “Fushiguro says that you eat a lot more sweets when you’re stressed. You ate two packs of those mini cupcakes, plus the brownie that Nanamin gave me!”

When Satoru looks over at Yuuta, he throws his hands up. “No, no, please don’t look at me like that! I voted against this! I said that w-we should probably give you two some space to figure it-” Inumaki slaps a hand over his mouth.

“We’re just… worried,” Megumi mumbles.

“Yup!” Panda shouts. “Very worried, and that’s why we came up with a plan to get you two back on track. We’re going to lock you two in this room, and you’re not coming out until you’re happy and in love again!”

“Because you two are supposed to be together forever and get married and invite us to the wedding!” Yuuji pouts, and the rest of the students voice their agreements.

You can’t believe it. They set you up. Your mouth falls open in shock, and the students all walk outside of the classroom. Maki and Nobara are the last ones out, and they both glare at Satoru. “Geto-sensei said that you missed your anniversary dinner,” Nobara hisses. “You better give her the most amazing, romantic and extravagant dinner after this, or we will deal with you!”

Behind Nobara, Yuuta chuckles nervously. “...Pretty sure that you won’t be able to get past his infinity-”

“Shut up, Okkotsu!” The rest of the students shout, then the door shuts and locks with a loud click. You drag a hand down your face, then scoff. Great.

“Wow, they’re really something,” Satoru chuckles, but when you don’t say anything, he turns to face you, his expression serious, even with his usual blindfold on. “Say the word, and I’ll teleport you out of here. Then, I’ll talk to them.”

“No, it’s okay,” you say quietly as you sit in one of the empty chairs. “We can talk.”

As you look around the classroom, a few memories from the year before came back. “Wait, this is the classroom where we met, isn’t it?”

“Looks like it,” Satoru says as he leans against the wall, smiling softly. “Zen’in, Panda, Inumaki, and Okkotsu were first years. You were standing right here. Your first day as a transfer, and you were already teaching these kids as professionals.”

“Yeah.” You stifle a laugh. “You stayed for the entire lesson, even though you had a meeting with the higher-ups. Suguru and Yaga had to practically drag you out of here so you wouldn’t spend another hour flirting.”

“They were pissed, but it was worth it. Our newest team member is just so pretty,” he says, then reaches for your hand, your thumb lovingly brushing against yours as his voice dips lower. “The most beautiful woman that my six eyes have ever seen.”

It’s a nice memory, but when you remember everything else, your smile falters. Satoru sighs, “I’m so sorry, pretty girl. Not just forgetting the annivesary dinner that you planned, but also for leaving you hanging. I don’t blame you for disappearing for a few days. If I were in your shoes, I would’ve been upset, too. I really don’t have an excuse. That was just… wrong.”

“I appreciate that, Toru, but… are you sure that this even works? All of the chasing, the begging to spend just a few hours together, it’s draining. I know you’re the strongest sorcerer-”

“You matter more than that,” he says firmly. “So much more than that. If it came down to choosing between you or being the strongest, I’m choosing you in an instant. I meant it when I said that I’d let Toji Fushiguro kill me again before letting you go.” You wince when you remember the gruesome details of that story, but don’t interrupt. “I made a horrible mistake by forgetting that date. I can’t imagine how awful it was sitting at the restaurant all alone. I’m so sorry. I don’t care how long it’ll take to make this up, I’ll prove that you mean the world to me.”

You consider his words. While you’re still a bit hurt about being forgotten, you miss your boyfriend, and you do believe that he’ll make it up to you, despite you being a bit hesitant. “One more chance, Satoru,” you tell him. “Don’t ever do this to me again.”

“I won’t. I promise,” he says, lifting his blindfold to reveal the gorgeous, cerulean eyes that you love so much. “You won’t regret this.” When you reach for him, he lowers his infinity fully to let you hug him, a long exhale leaving your body when you’re suddenly wrapped in his arms and his scent. “I missed you,” he whispers to you. “I was so worried. I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you.”

He kisses your cheek, then pulls away from you. “Okay, time to go.”

“Go where?”

Satoru chuckles. “I owe you an amazing, romantic, and extravagant dinner, otherwise my students will find a way to kill me. Plus, we’re going to be disappearing for a while. I got a trip planned. Flight leaves early in the morning.”

You gasp. “What?! But what about work? Or the students? Or the-”

He interrupts you with a feather-light kiss against your lips. “All taken care of, pretty girl,” he purrs. “Just let me make this up to you, okay?”

“Alright, but first you need to apologize to the students for wreaking havoc while you were stressed, and buy Yuuji a new brownie.”

#jjk #written by rey <3 #choso x reader #gojo x reader #shiu x reader #shiu kong #shiu x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk au #choso kamo #choso x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smau

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starlostseungmin · 4 months

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husband!minho

✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan（ lee know ） jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time.

Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you.

Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception.

Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you.

Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses.

Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate.

Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him.

Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats).

Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better.

Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”

Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong.

Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it).

Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation.

Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy.

Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection.

Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure. He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way.

Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you.

Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn.

Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone.

Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him.

Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection.

Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege.

Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back.

Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything.

Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart.

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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chunghasweetie · 4 months

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𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk

— summary | always giving out free shit to his favorite customer

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

smut, bickering, cussing, drugs🍃, plug jk, dirty talk, belittling, pussy eating, protected sex, porn making, friends with benefits(?), etc

— word count | 2.09k words

— song suggestion | everyday — ariana grande

“I can’t believe this man is really out here waiting outside like this.” Y/n groaned to herself.

She was meeting him once again for pre rolls, some dispos, and enough weed for her and her best friends.

Usually for anyone else it would be a bit strange for a plug to show up at their front door but Jungkook seemed very comfortable doing so.

Unluckily for her, she was very close to the plug.

He had been pulling up to her place everytime she wanted something. And he was more than happy to do it.

She was wearing a pink low cut top with a matching mini skirt. Her makeup was done up nice and her hair was curled to perfection.

She didn’t have much plans for the day. However, knowing that she was ordering from Jungkook, she knew she had to look somewhat presentable.

It’s not like she had to try too hard, she was gorgeous naturally. She had a body people would kill for and a face many would pay to even resemble.

“Hey mama.” The man bit his lip, checking her out at the doorstep.

“I don’t see anything.” Y/n looked at both of his hands and his front pockets. “Jungkook I swear if—“

“You’re already bugging.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “I have it. A ‘hey’ would’ve been nice.” He stepped into her home.

“And it would’ve been nice to ask to come in.” She shut the door behind him.

“You’re so so pretty but your mouth—“ He exhaled. “You’re annoying.”

“Yet I’m your favoriteee customer.” She teased.

“Hell no. You’re not my favorite.” He shook his head, walking over to her counter, tossing everything he brought on there.

“Oh really?” She cocked her eyebrow. “You’re such a liar.”

“Psh- Why would I lie?” He looked over at her. “You’re honestly my least favorite.”

She could laugh. “Least favorite?”

“You heard me mama.” He shook his head. “You’re so annoying, rude, and you don’t even pay me.”

“I don’t pay you because you’re always tryna fuck.” She rolled her eyes at his insults.

“Trying to?” He laughed. “You act like I’m not successful every time.”

Wasn’t a lie. He was even laying it down when she didn’t order from him.

“You’re so annoying.” She groaned.

“I’m annoying? You texted me to drop off your shit and gave me attitude the second I came in!” He argued.

Also true.

That was their dynamic. Always having petty arguments as their way of flirting with each other. It was annoying but also very entertaining for the both of them.

“Oh my gosh. You’re already starting something.” She shook her head. “Go fucking change so we can watch a movie.”

“No way.” Jungkook fake gasped, touching his heart. “You’re letting me spend the night again mama? I’m so honored!”

“I hate you.”

༊—

“No way.” Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the sight of the scene on TV.

Jungkook and Y/n had been sharing a blunt on her couch and were heavily tuned into That 70s Show.

They had been watching the show together since the beginning of him coming over.

The two were cuddled up, Y/n stroking his hair as they watched the show.

It was the scene in which Jackie and Hyde had been secretly hooking up over the summer, and no one was as shocked as Jungkook.

Y/n had watched the series more than once, and seeing Jungkook’s reaction had her weak with laughter.

“That was so unexpected.” He announced. “But honestly, I’ve been thinking they looked good together.”

“Told you.” She shook her head.

“You didn’t tell me shit!” He turned over to her.

“Whatever.” She took another hit of the shared blunt.

“Pass it to me.”

“No.”

“Damnit woman.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re so fucking irritating but you’re so hot.”

“Awe. You’re such a sweetheart.” She answered sarcastically.

“Keep fucking playing with me.” He stared her down. “Been giving me attitude all night. I’ll straighten that out so fast.”

“The fuck you will.” She replied with an attitude once again.

“Oh wow.” Jungkook turned his attention to the TV, chuckling to himself.

“Okay.” He rubbed behind his neck. “Put the blunt down.”

“But—“

“I said put it down. You got your high. Just being greedy.”

She obeyed him after noticing his demanding tone of voice. He grabbed her remote, turning up the TV.

“Kiss me baby” He leaned in, easily earning a kiss from her.

“Pretty lips.” He pulled away before grabbing the back of her neck with his tattooed hand, crashing her lips back onto his.

She kissed him back willfully, smacking her lips repeatedly against his.

“So pretty.” He mumbled against them. “But that mouth is disgusting. Gotta fix that.”

He spit in her mouth, going back in and kissing her more aggressively.

Moving the couch pillow behind her head, he laid her down on the furniture.

He slid up her skirt, moving her panties to the side with his teeth.

“Not even apologizing,” He made a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. “I got some for you.”

He used his left hand to grab onto her breast, and used his right hand to hold her hips down.

His face was immediately hovering her cunt. His mouth was already watering at the sight, spitting and drooling on it.

Although it made her feel good, eating pussy was one of Jungkook’s main sources of pleasure.

Especially hers.

He’s never craved something so badly.

They weren’t dating. They never discussed anything of the sort. They were young and didn’t want to waste time with the labels.

But he would be damned if he had to share this woman.

The two did have their rocky and dysfunctional relationship but he was very happy to be around her.

Always smirking to himself whenever she texted. Hoping she’d ask him to stay longer. Following her on his damn plug account.

He had some other customers that were attractive women, but from the beginning she’s been his favorite. No one else got all the perks like she did.

She was a whiny moaning mess. Jungkook hadn’t even tasted her yet.

“Jungkook, please.” She begged. “Can’t wait like this.”

"I know, baby, I know. It's been too long." He leans in, his breath ghosting over her skin for just a moment before his lips press against her clit.

Her legs immediately squirmed at the feel of his mouth. She could hardly move due to him holding her down.

Grinning, he moves his tongue around her clit, sucking and nibbling at it.

He moves one of his arms to keep her leg in place, while the other one moves upwards, slipping two fingers inside her.

"All that attitude for what?" He asks through muffled groans.

He smirks against her skin, moving his fingers in and out slowly. He starts flicking his tongue over her clit faster, adding a third finger as he matches the rhythm with his tongue.

“You’re bitching at me the moment I get through the damn door. Now look at you.” He chuckled against her clit. “Apologize.”

“I— mm— Fu— I’m”

“Can’t speak?” Jungkook suddenly stopped, pulling out his fingers and moving from her heat since he knew she was close.

“Jungkook!” She groaned. “You can’t do me like this right now.”

“I can’t?” He laughed. “Oh I can. You can give me attitude all damn day but you want me to reward you by letting you cum already?” He scoffed.

“Ugh!” She groaned in frustration.

“Turn around.” Jungkook was already tearing a condom open with his mouth. “Ass up face down.”

She got into position like ordered. Jungkook moved the hair from her face so he could have a better view of her.

“Oh fuck yes.” Jungkook had the sight of her ass all to himself. “Don’t even know how you made it fit in that tight little skirt.”

He was checking her out. He did this everytime. Her body was perfection and way better than any of the models he had seen on Instagram.

“Can you do me a favor mama?” He leaned forward, “I wanna to do something with you.”

“What is it?” She asked, desperate to get fucked already.

“Lemme record.” He tapped her ass, almost fainting at the recoil. “Please?”

“Yeah.” She reached over, grabbing her phone and handing it to him.

“My dirty girl.” He chuckled. “Knew you’d be down.” He took a hit of the dispo the two had on the couch.

He doesn't hesitate as he opens the camera app on her phone and starts recording. He positions himself behind her, lining his cock up with her entrance.

“Oh fuck.” He cussed as he slid in, the camera flash capturing their synchronized gasps as he slid inside her.

“Fuck, you have to watch this video later.” His mouth hung open at the sight.

“Mm— Jungkook” She hummed, “Fuck baby”

“Come on mama.” He slapped her ass. “Make this video good yeah? Bounce on this dick for me.”

She fucked herself on his cock, making her eyes rolled back with each bounce.

He grips her hips as he starts thrusting in and out of her, picking up the pace as he fucks her hard.

“Always so fucking tight” He groaned. “But you’re so fucking wet. How does that work?”

“Mm” She whined. “Jungkook you’re too fucking big.”

“You take it don’t you?” He slapped her ass. “So fucking pretty. Especially when you’re high.”

Her ass clapped against him, the sounds of her moans and her ass driving him off the edge.

They were panting, equally putting in the work to get each other off.

“Been dying to fuck you since you texted me this morning mama.” He spoke to her. “Huge tits, fat ass, and pretty face is just what I needed.”

She could cum with his words alone. She loved how he smoke to her and how vocal he was.

“Fuck” He groaned, pulling out with a loud ‘pop’ sound.

“Jungkook!” Y/n whined in irritation.

He stopped filming, shutting off the phone and tossing it to the side.

“Sorry mama. Gotta fuck you missionary.” He apologized, smacking her ass before flipping her over on her back. “Wanna cum while I look at your face.”

“Can I take it off mama?” Jungkook pouted cutely, pecking her cheek. “Pleaseee”

“No. I still don’t trust you.” Y/n shook her head. “Over here tryna bend the rules.”

She was very strict on Jungkook wearing a condom. She heard all sorts of rumors about the women he had been with and she was not taking any chances.

“I don’t know why. You know rumors aren’t always true.” He shook his head.

“Do you want pussy or not?” She threatened.

“Fine fine” He gave in.

He wanted her to know she was the only girl he was with but, it was too soon to deal with the sappy shit when all they were doing was fucking.

He slipped back in her, stretching her out once again.

He went back to his pace, snapping his hips inside of her while she arched her back at the impact.

Jungkook couldn’t stop staring at her breasts bouncing up and down as he fucked her.

His shaft throbs as he watches her come undone on his cock, tits bouncing wildly. He's almost there just from the sight.

“Mm fuck Jungkook.” She moaned out his name repeatedly.

Their energy was lower because of the weed but their sexual urges were at an all time high.

Jungkook reached over, circling over her clit with his thumb. “Feels good huh mama? You take it so good.”

He was growing closer to his edge.

The double stimulation with the weed still highly active in her system made her go insane.

“Look so fucking pretty like that baby.” He cooed. “My prettiest and favorite customer for sure.”

His thrusts become more frantic, his balls slapping against her ass with each one.

“Jungkook I’m— I need to cum” She whined desperately, barely able to let out a single sentence.

He rubbed her clit more intensely before she came all over his cock, panting at the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Jungkook came shortly after, pulling out pumping himself until he came all over her stomach.

The two panted together, staying still for a moment to catch their breaths.

“F-Fuck. I’ll clean us up.” He said, still trying to get to his breath.

“Let’s just run a shower.” She replied. “P-Please”

He agreed. He cleaned up what he could before the two stood up of her couch.

“So…” She trailed off. “You admitted I was your favorite customer.”

“Goddamnit Y/n.”

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stsgluver · 9 months

Text

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 — gojo satoru

synopsis. another installment of the first years going through old videos of their teacher and his friends

wc. 4.1k

tags. gojo x reader, reader in the same class as gojo, ft. nanami and haibara

an. do I have any idea where im taking this? no. still think its cute though (let’s hope the next part doesn’t take me another couple of months 🤭)

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“good evening boys,” nobara burst into megumi and yuuji’s room. the former who was shocked awake from his nap and the latter who had two big bags of popcorn in either arm. he’d been waiting for an hour for the orange-haired girl, a bright grin on his face.

“you can’t just come into our room,” megumi grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head and rolling over in his bed. nobara and yuuji ignored his complaint, dragging both chairs in their room in front of yuuji’s desk. nobara set up the laptop whilst yuuji ran to nobara’s room to grab a third chair. after five minutes of rustling, their movie night was read.

“come sit all, it’s movie time!” the orange-haired girl said excitedly, pulling megumi’s comforter off of him. he sported his usual frown but sleepily complied nonetheless, dragging the blanket around his body as he sat next to yuuji (who then forced the dark-haired teen to share some of the blanket with him).

“we’re in detention.” the screen opened up with you – hair pulled back into a ponytail as you wore your usual uniform. the three students could recognise the wall behind you as one of their own classes.

“not our fault,” shoko added, fixing gojo’s glasses on the top of her head. the two of you spoke in hushed whispers, glancing towards the door where, presumably, yaga was on the other side. you had shoved your desk closer to shoko’s so it was basically one big desk and the camera was balanced in the middle.

“never is,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, shooting the person next to you a glare.

shoko lightly shifted the camera so that geto could come into frame. he raised his hands up in surrender, “it’s not mine either.”

“satoru is getting yelled at by sensei right now,” you whisper shouted, pointing towards the door. if yuuji turned the volume up any louder, they’d be able to hear yaga yet again scolding gojo for another mistake he’d made on a mission – an order he’d probably disobeyed the more confident he grew in his own ability.

shoko frowned, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “he literally knows it was that idiot. why are we being punished?”

“maybe yaga thinks if we get annoyed at satoru he’ll stop,” geto reasoned with a sigh, as if though he wasn’t gojo’s partner in crime and equally as complicit when he entertained his antics.

“no he won’t. he thinks by punishing us, satoru will have some epiphany about his actions impacting other people. like he thinks far enough ahead to come to that realisation,” you dropped your head down onto your desk. geto laughed quietly, giving you a ‘comforting’ pat on your shoulder.

shoko leant close to the camera, a sharp pencil in hand that she lightly jutted forward, “count your days, gojo satoru.”

the classroom door slid open and the camera was abruptly dropped as yaga walked in, a head of white hair only seconds behind. “is that a came–?” his voice was muffled and cut off quickly as the clip ended.

“bagsy my turn,” yuuji practically jumped from his seat, almost spilling the popcorn everywhere as his half off the blanket dropped from his lap.

megumi grumbled at him as he grabbed the blanket and bag of popcorn from his excitable classmate. “oh no i was in such a rush,” he sarcastically quipped and nobara lightly nudged his shoulder.

gojo behaved as a god now, untouchable to all as he alone was the strongest. even though their teacher had never been anything but overtly childish, his cursed energy wasn’t something that could be ignored. seventeen year old gojo was as human as they come, lovesick and reckless and happy. the balance of the world was yet to be forced upon him.

yuuji grinned as he sat back properly, having only taken a fraction of the time to find a video he wanted in comparison to their previous snooping session. taking back his bag of popcorn, he settled himself back under the blanket. “want some?” he offered megumi, who shook his head in response. “your loss.”

as per usual, it was shoko’s face up close and personal with the camera as she adjusted the lens and made sure that it was on and focused. once she was satisfied, she spun the camera so that it was facing nanami – yuuji could hardly contain himself at seeing his beloved teacher look so… not muscular and scary. small giggles filling the dorm room.

the two were in one of the tokyo classrooms, and sat on desks on opposing sides of the room. nanami had his head deep in a book that would probably kill any of his classmates from sheer boredom alone.

“who do you think the first of us to die will be?” shoko asked indifferently as nanami’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly looked to his left with an unimpressed expression. even as a sixteen year old, he was set in his rigid mannerisms and beliefs and often saw his four seniors as pains in the ass. whilst you and shoko were definitely ranked higher in his list of people he could tolerate than gojo and geto, questions like this made him contemplate his future in jujutsu sorcery if this was who he was going to be working alongside.

“why are you asking me that?”

“answer,” shoko demanded, zooming in the camera on nanami’s face. his blonde hair was held neatly in his side parting and he looked like anyone but the nanami the students were familiar with.

it looked like he was contemplating telling shoko she was odd, or completely blanking her and opting to finish his book, but the thoughtful silence was interrupted by a sudden thud outside of the classroom. their heads darted up to look at the door and peer through the open doorway into the hallway only to hear gojo’s faint ‘i’m okay!’.

nanami let out a drawn out sigh, shaking his head. “him.”

“none of us!” haibara’s voice called out as he peered out of the classroom’s cupboard that he’d been reorganising (it had been gojo and geto’s job but they’d left it worse than when they’d arrived and he really didn’t want to get told off again by yaga).

shoko eyed the camera in disbelief, not even trying to entertain the young teen’s impossible ideology. “you know the mortality rate of a sorcerer right?” she called back to haibara who didn’t falter in his cheeriness as he affirmed his point.

“and? geto and gojo are almost special grades already! you’ve got to have some faith in us,” he grinned, slipping his jacket back on as he finished up his tidying. his footsteps held a skip that the older students had lost – an innocence that was rarely allowed to exist in the jujutsu world.

yuuji had stopped giggling at the younger appearances of the sorcerers he now knew because he didn’t know him. it was a reminder to the three that no matter how positive they remained against the hardships that would come, it wouldn’t matter. it was kill or be killed and one tiny little mistake, one movement a fraction of a second too late, was the difference between getting paid and coming home in a body bag.

“lame,” shoko rolled her eyes. she tapped her twin twice as she pondered her own question before pointing at the blond opposite her, “my guess is nanami.” despite his disinterest in the question itself, he shot a look of offence to shoko who raised her free hand in surrender. “imagine this: you’re put on a mission with gojo. you’d ask the curse to kill you.”

“i’m getting killed by a curse?” the special grade in question peered into the classroom, glasses pushed up onto his head and revealing his renowned dazzling blue eyes. there was a small scratch on his cheek – presumably from whatever he’d hit into a few minutes prior.

“no, nanami is to avoid you.”

gojo gasped, one hand on the door frame and the other over his heart as he cried out that ‘that couldn’t be true’ and nanami was his ‘bestest bestie for life’. he only halted his dramatics when you and geto forced him out of the doorway so you could join the rest of your classmates.

you sat in your usual seat next to shoko and geto sat on top of your desk. gojo, on the other hand, remained at the door, jaw practically on the floor as he aggressively pointed at the annoyed blond. “guys, nanami is going to die so he doesn’t have to be friends with me, defend me!”

“at least one of us is brave enough to end our suffering,” geto teased, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grin as you lightly hit his arm, scolding him for entertaining gojo’s behaviour.

instead of giving the white haired sorcerer’s antics any more attention, shoko turned the camera so that it was only a couple of inches from your face. “who do you think will die first?”

“satoru,” you said in unison with geto, eliciting another gasp as gojo dropped onto the floor, faking death.

when he didn’t get the sympathetic reaction he wanted, he abruptly sat up, pointing a finger directly at you and geto, “did we all just forget five minutes ago when i kicked your asses in training?”

“i’m literally a grade two sorcerer, what sort of flex is that mr i’m-practically-special-grade-please-worship-the-ground-i-walk-on?” you scoffed. the video ended a few moments later, cutting off laughter and satoru bickering with you.

there was a brief moment of silence – mixed feelings towards what the three had just witnessed. of course it was fun to watch their teacher and his friends but death was a sobering event.

“megumi?” nobara gestured for him to take his turn on choosing their next video but he shook his head, cradling what remained of the bag of popcorn (he’d stolen it back after yuuji nearly spilled once he saw nanami).

“no thanks, you can take my go,” he offered and nobara grinned, worries set aside as she leant forward to find the next video. it was like watching a tv show but it was real life and she knew the characters.

yuuji tried to argue it should be his go – megumi did steal his popcorn after all – but megumi didn’t care enough to aid his argument and there was no way yuuji could overpower the orange-haired sorcerer without his support. nobara was a force to be reckoned with and yuuji was scared to make her mad.

“is that the teacher from kyoto?” nobara asked after several moments of silently scrolling.

yuuji leaned forward to look at the thumbnail of the video she held the cursor over and in between two tall cherry blossom trees was utahime iori. “it is!” he said excitedly; he’d never seen her without the scar before.

the video opened with utahime running towards the camera from the pink trees. they were fully bloomed and in the background there were tourists taking photos.

“did you get a good picture? does my hair look okay?” utahime asked whoever was behind the camera. the questions were so mundane – the questions of teenage girls worried more about their social media than if they’d survive their next mission.

“yeah don’t worry it always does,” shoko’s voice was heard speaking. her hand appeared in the frame a moment later as she handed utahime back her phone. “here’s your phone.”

“you never say that to me,” you grumbled.

“take the hint,” shoko threw a handful of cherry blossom leaves at you and there was the sound of rustling as you tried to shake what you could out of your hair.

“shoko ieiri!” you whined, followed by some incoherent threat and a complaint that you’d just had your hair done after some curse had ruined it the other week.

utahime picked up the camera, lifting it high up to show off the trees and bustling streets of tourists and commuters. “i thought we specifically didn’t bring gojo and geto to avoid childless arguments.”

“yn’s fault,” shoko countered, jumping away into the frame of the camera as you tried to hit her arm. she giggled, half behind utahime, “do you at least have gojo’s card?”

“you mean this gorgeous thing?” you appeared on the other side of utahime, sleek black card between your fingertips that you showed to the camera. “today is on him ladies.”

“you truly are taking one for the team being with him, i retract all earlier insults.” shoko held her hand out for a truce, bowing her head as you took her hand.

“i appreciate it, it’s not an easy task,” you dramatically wiped a fake tear away from the corner of your eyes. gojo had given you the card before you’d embarked on your monthly trip to the city, telling you that as long as you brought back a bag of sweets and kikufuku from that one cafe, he didn’t care what you spent.

you froze a moment later, a look of deep thought crossing your features, “can you guys hear that?”

“no,” utahime frowned, a look of concern as she glanced around at the crowd. if your day was about to be ruined by a curse, or worse yet, curse users–

“sounds like the card is saying we need to buy overpriced starbucks.” the three of you broke out into grins at the potential that the black card had given you.

“oh my god, you’re so right and wait,” shoko grabbed your wrist and brought the card close to her ear, “it needs cigarettes to be bought too.”

“shoko! you said you were quitting,” utahime nudged her and shoko blew her an apologetic kiss. the nicotine patches she’d bought to try and quit were still sealed and in a draw she hadn’t opened since she put them in there several weeks ago. quitting was nothing more than a fantasy considered once every blue moon.

“she’s a liar–”

“–and proud,” shoko finished your sentence with a nonchalant shrug.

“i wish sensei would give me his card for a day,” nobara said wistfully as the video ended, twisting a strand of her orange hair around her finger as she mentally plotted the order in which she’d go to all of the shops in tokyo. all she’d need was a full day – 9 to 5 – and she’d never have to shop another day in her life.

“you’d max it out within an hour,” yuuji scoffed, scooping a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. nobara scrunched her nose up at him as he messily chewed down.

“actually it’s a lot harder than it would seem,” megumi noted.

nobara raised a brow at him – megumi and shopping? “you’ve tried?”

“we tried multiple times,” megumi spoke without much of a second thought. his jaw clenched slightly as he realised his mistake and the consequential curious eyes . pointing to the dark screen, he lightly elbowed the boy next to him’s side, “yuuji take your go quick before i kick kugisaki out so i can sleep.”

“welcome to yn’s kitchen- don’t touch that,” you whacked geto’s hand with a wooden spoon, stopping him from dipping his finger into the bowl of chocolate icing. the dark haired sorcerer cradled his ‘injured’ hand though it was comical to believe you’d actually done any damage – he was at least an entire six inches taller than you.

“today we made a cake,” you held your arms out in a jazz hands manner to show something that… resembled a cake? if the students squinted maybe they’d agree.

“for satoru’s birthday,” geto added, pulling out the big ‘18’ candles that would eventually be used.

it was pretty obvious that neither of you had any real baking experience, but the thought was definitely there. the shape somewhat was cylindrical, only a small clump had chosen to stay in the pan and had to be ‘surgically’ glued back to the rest of the shape with a large scoop of nutella. you were hoping that the icing would disguise the bitterness of the burnt edges.

“taste it,” you smiled at the camera, shifting the plate towards geto like you were on some cooking show and that pile of sponge was something to be proud of.

geto pushed the plate back without any hesitation, “i don’t want to.”

“do it.”

“you do it.”

your smile dropped and you flashed geto a glare before composing yourself by clearing your throat. taking a deep breath, you broke off a tiny piece of the top layer of the cake, “so i’m now going to trial this small bit for research purposes.”

you barely had chewed twice before your mouth was scrunching up in disgust and you were disappearing off camera to find a bin to spit it out into.

geto, unfazed and unsurprised by your joint failure, picked up the spatula and began dolloping it onto the top of the cake.

“that’s horrendous-” you came back in view with a glass of water in hand. “what are you doing?”

“hiding that with icing,” he stated obviously.

“we’re still giving that to him?”

geto grinned, directly at the camera as he hoped gojo would find this video after he too ate this. “obviously we’re still giving it to him.”

“it’s weird,” yuuji hummed once the video ended, “those two were sensei’s closest friends and yet he doesn’t speak about either.”

“can you blame him? have you ever spoken to maki about the attack geto led against the school last year?” nobara pointed out and yuuji’s eyes widened as he’d nodded. maki was a woman of few words but when it came to yuta? she’d spend all day ranting about how much she disliked geto and that he’d gotten what was coming to him.

“my turn,” megumi placed the now empty bag of popcorn onto the floor as he scrolled and clicked on the first video that he could find. you weren’t a conversation he was ready to have yet – he could bearly speak to gojo about it, let alone the two loudest mouths in the school.

the video opened to the loud sound of the subway. shoko and geto were sat on one side whilst you and gojo on the other – with you holding up the camera as your beloved boyfriend stood up in the middle of the subway carriage.

“fit check!” gojo did a little spin, showing off his basic hoodie and baggy jeans that he wore almost every time the four snuck out of the high school – or in fact, did anything together for that matter. for someone so rich he really did not use his wealth to its full capacity.

after his little twirl and bow, he dropped back down next to you, looking over the camera into your eyes as he seeked your validation. “i look hot right?”

“you always look hot,” you flipped the camera to face yourself as you not-so-subtly-whispered, “his mum paid me to say that.” the students knew their teacher well enough to know that the dramatic gasp they heard was almost definitely followed by an overexaggerated display of anguish. your giggles and geto’s laughter only confirmed the conclusion.

“i think i need a kiss to recover. or i’ll spend the rest of my days as a ghost, heart broken and never able to leave this subway as i haunt it and all the other coup–” the lens view was obstructed by their teacher’s hoodie as you gave into his demands, cutting off his pathetic rant.

a loud groan was heard from shoko as she snatched back the camera and held it up to her unimpressed face and geto gagging. “i prefer it when they’re broken up,” she grumbled.

before megumi could interject and tell nobara to get out now (he didn’t care if yuuji teased him for his ‘need for beauty sleep’), the video ended and automatically opened onto the next one. his words were caught in his throat at the oh-so-familiar apartment.

“get that out of my face.” you were older now, only be a few years but there was a scar on your neck that hadn’t been there in any of the other videos. gojo’s laugh could be heard as he ignored your request and instead held it up high enough to capture you both in the frame.

“you don’t remember this old thing?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead, securing you before you could duck away from him.

“we’re twenty one stop acting like we’re ancient,” you crossed your arms in front of yourself as you accepted that maybe just possibly you didn’t quite the match the strength of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer.

“we may as well be. we’ve got two kids.”

your eyes widened and you shook your head, “we do not–”

“yn!” a small megumi appeared in the corner of the frame and you quickly shut up as gojo gave you an i-told-you-so look. “gojo said he’d help me with my maths homework. an hour ago.”

the smugness almost instantly vanished from the sorcerers face as you glared at him for once again avoiding his responsibilities. because apparently there was more to looking after children than feeding them and taking them out for the day as a reward when they beat up bullies in school.

“i’m a busy man megumi, saving lives, helping–” gojo winced as you elbowed him in the side, allowing you to slip from his grasp.

“ignore him megs, let’s go into the living room,” you said, ushering the small boy out of the room. two years of this and you were surprised that megumi even still bothered to give gojo a chance to act his age.

“don’t take my sweets!”

you halted megumi purposefully, “do you want gojo’s sweets?” the camera although kind of forgotten now, still had the young boy in view and picked up his smirk in full as he nodded.

“i’d love them.” gojo winced again, pretending like tears were about to start falling. as if though he couldn’t easily afford to replace anything they did eat by the thousands.

“perfect,” you exaggerated in a condescending tone. as the amazing parent that you were, you made sure not to forget about the other child that was staying with you. “tsu! do you want a treat?”

“yeah!”

“even better,” you clapped your hands together and gestured for megumi to continue on into the living room again. “have fun with your camera love. i’m very busy adulting here.”

“this isn’t over,” the white haired sorcerer shook his head, betrayal clear on his features.

you mouthed the words ‘i love you’, blowing him a little kiss as you disappeared around the corner. gojo gave you a fake grin, narrowing his eyes at the camera.

“jokes on them, i pay the bills. no more electricity for them.”

“you were so cute!” yuuji practically squealed as he and nobara jumped up

“your hair was so spiky!” nobara reached out to poke at his less bold spikes that he sported nowadays. they had earnt him his nickname of ‘sea urchin’ but still couldn’t beat his younger hairdo.

“can we meet her?” yuuji asked, the poor boy having been oblivious to any of the social cues that nobara already had. nobara coughed at his request, eyes flicking between the two boys.

megumi shook his head. “i think that’s enough for tonight. please, kugisaki,” he nodded his head towards the door. the girl gave him a quick salute, completing her secret handshake with yuuji before she grabbed the laptop and disappeared from their dorm back to her own.

the dark haired student ignored yuuji’s complaints as he dropped himself back onto his bunk bed, reaching for his phone. upon opening his messages, he scrolled to a contact and pressed on the chat.

all of the messages displayed on the screen were sent from him to the unknown contact. there was never a response, or even a read message. just ‘delivered’. he knew that if he scrolled up it would be much the same. the last message he’d ever received was one on his 14th birthday; a simple ‘happy birthday. i love you. i’m sorry’.

hi. we miss you. i hope you’re doing okay.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts

#snapshot !#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #gojo fluff #gojo angst #geto x reader #shoko x reader #utahime x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

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sugarnspice630 · 6 months

Text

Movie Night - Yunho x Reader

“If you can’t stay awake, I’ll give you a reason to stay awake.”

•pairing: softdom!yunho x fem!reader

•word count: 1.9k

•tags: mdni, golden retriever Yunho turns soft dom, vertically challenged reader, reader has never seen the Spider-Man movies, Yunho is a MASSIVE ass guy, teasing, butt foundling, reader falls asleep, somnophilia if you squint, cockwarming, ...did I miss anything? probably

Summary: Having a movie date night with Yunho, but you find yourself falling asleep, so Yunho does the only thing he can think of to keep you awake

A/N: Inspired by my Thighs, Tits, or Ass man Ateez edition post! Sorry to anyone who has seen the Spider-Man movies (I have not). Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

It was movie date night with Yunho! You were so excited to have the whole evening with just the two of you. Your objective was to watch the entire Spider-Man movie series, cause you had never seen them before and he was dying to share them with you. Were superhero movies your favorite thing in the world? No, but you agreed to watch them because Yunho loves them. You could never turn down any request he had, especially when he gave you those soft eyes. It makes your heart melt every time.

Yunho was busy preparing the living room for the movie night while you took it upon yourself to make the popcorn. A huge bowl of it to make it through all the movies. You had to stand on your tippy toes to put the first bag into the microwave. Balancing yourself against the counter and stretching your calves and arms as far as they would go to get the bag in. You heard a soft chuckle from behind and felt Yunho’s body pushing against you. You tilted your head back and looked up at him, and he looked down at you. He closed the door to the microwave and pushed the buttons for you, with a smile on his face the whole time.

“Figured you needed some help.”

“I could have managed!” He softly chuckles at your retaliation.

"Right, right, sorry.” He gently rubbed up and down your sides with his frame still pushed against you. Resting his head on top of yours and staying close to you for a few minutes. He gently kissed the top of your head before tracing his hands down to your butt. Gently squeezing both cheeks and massaging. You felt your face get warm.

“Yuyu!” You drew out his name in a playful manner.

“Sorry baby! I just couldn’t help it.” It also didn’t help that you were wearing pajama shorts that just covered your cheeks, and the fabric was a little thin. You could feel him from behind you, but it wasn't hard. The timer for the popcorn bag went off, and Yunho took one hand off your butt and opened the door for you. He grabbed the bag and set it on the counter in front of you.

“Thank you~!” He softly patted your head and gave you a smile before making his way back to the living room to wait for you. You took the bag, carefully opening it to not burn yourself, and poured it into a big bowl for you two to share, taking out all of the kernels that did not get popped. You carried the bowl into the living room and smiled when you saw Yunho sitting there, all sprawled out on the couch, looking comfortable. Setting the bowl down on the table in a spot that would be easy for both of you to reach. The atmosphere was perfect to watch movies together at home. The lights were dimmed, but not enough to affect navigating your way around the furniture. The room temperature was perfect—warm enough that you would not need a blanket while also allowing the extra warmth from cuddling up together.

You walked around the table to sit down on the couch next to Yunho. In the meantime, he propped his feet up on the table at an angle to allow you to curl in underneath his arms. Before you could sit down, he gave you this cocky smirk and used his toes to kick the remote off the table, landing behind you. You placed your hands on your hips and scoffed playfully.

“Really?”

“My foot slipped.” He said nonchalantly, still keeping that smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes and smirked back at him. Turning around, you bent over at the waist to pick up the remote. While bent over, you could just feel Yunho’s eyes drilling into you. You took your time picking up the remote, just to tease him even further. As you came back up, you turned around quickly, hoping to catch Yunho lacking, but he was staring straight ahead. He must have directed his gaze away just before you turned around.

“I know you were staring.”

“Perhaps I was, perhaps I wasn’t. You’ll never know~.” Still staring straight ahead. You lightly slapped his shoulder before sitting down next to him and getting comfortable. He extended his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close. You handed the remote to him and let him pick the first movie you were going to watch.

“This is important, so you have to pay attention.” He said enthusiastically, excited to share his interests. The golden retriever energy was strong at this moment. You swore that if he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy right now.

“Hard to do that when you’re here too.” He just smiled at your sly comment, and you nuzzled up against him.

The movie started to play, and you watched intently. Your eyes were trying to follow everything that was happening on screen, which proved to be difficult at times because there was so much happening, but you managed. Yunho would occasionally speak up during a quiet part to tell you something really awesome was coming up. About halfway through the movie, you noticed your eyes were getting heavy, so you tried to blink away the tiredness, but it just kept coming back to haunt you. You wanted to stay awake and watch the movies with Yunho. You tapped Yunho on the leg two times to indicate you were going to change positions. You opted for laying your head in his lap and laying sideways, still facing the TV. He softly placed his hand on your side and gently rubbed. More minutes of the movie go by, and you are still fighting tiredness. You find your eyes closing, only to immediately open them back up wide to focus back on the movie. You have missed most of the last quarter of the movie by now, considering how many times your eyes have opened and closed. Yunho noticed this, and one time when you didn’t open your eyes right away, he slightly flicked your side.

“Ya, pay attention Y/N. You keep falling asleep.”

“I know Yunho; I’m sorry. It is interesting; I just can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Well here, sit up and come over here.” Yunho shifts in his spot a little and invites you to sit up in his lap. You picked yourself up and moved to sit on his lap, still facing the TV. He placed his hands back at your side to support you sitting on him. You looked back and looked at Yunho’s face. He was smirking at you softly and rubbing your sides while he looked at you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, and you turned your attention back to the movie. You then felt Yunho lean a bit closer to you and felt his breath near your ear.

“If you can’t stay awake, I’ll give you a reason to stay awake.” His tone was low, and it made your face heat up a little. You continued to stay focused on the movie, and soon after, the credits began to roll. Just because this movie was over did not mean you were done; no, you had all the other movies in the series to get through. He picked up the remote and started the next movie in the series.

Tiredness began to take over you again, but you swore to stay awake for Yunho. Hiding your subtle yawns and slow blinks the best you could. Eventually, you find your head bobbing to the side and your eyes closing. This time, you did not wake up as quickly as before. Yunho took notice of your sleeping figure and decided to do something about it. He took one hand and shifted his hips to pull his sweatpants and underwear down. Then, he grabbed your face harshly, which caused you to jolt awake. He turned his hand to turn your face toward him. You stared at him with a shocked expression.

“I told you if you couldn’t stay awake, I’d give you a reason to stay awake. Take your shorts and underwear off.” He sounded annoyed, so you didn’t want to piss him off any further. You obeyed him and lifted yourself up by your knees, slid off your shorts and underwear, with his help, of course, then sat back down on his lap. To your surprise, you felt his bare skin touching yours. You felt something slightly poking your behind as well.

“Lift your hips back up baby.” He whispered to you, and you lifted your hips slightly, removing his hand from your face to help you out. Yunho took that opportunity to guide his semi-hard dick to your entrance. “Alright, sit back down slowly.” Yunho placed his hands back on your side as you slowly sat yourself back on his lap. You whimpered softly as his thick dick stretched out your opening. You softly bit your lip and felt Yunho push your hips down to put all your weight on him. “You’re going to pay attention now, yes?” You nodded your head softly, your brain becoming clouded by how big Yunho is inside you.

You were having a slightly hard time focusing on the movie, but for a different reason. It was not because you were tired; it was because you could feel your boyfriend’s cock inside you getting harder, and he would twitch every so often. Your heart rate was so harsh and heavy that you could feel it in your pussy. You were almost certain Yunho could feel it too, because he would grunt or groan with pleasure every time you felt it. Yunho wiggled in his seat a little, but really to try to push himself further inside you. You softly moaned, and you felt one of Yunho’s hands leave your side and come up to cover your mouth. He leaned closer to your body, which only pushed his cock into you in a different direction, causing you to moan again and flutter your eyes.

“No talking during the movie love~.” You felt his warm breath near your ear. “You need to focus~.”

“I-I can’t-.” You tried to say it quietly, but Yunho’s hand over your mouth muffled your words.

“What? Couldn’t hear you baby. Could you say that again?” He moved his hand off your mouth a little to allow you to speak.

“I can’t-!” Before you could finish your sentence, Yunho rammed his hips up into you, causing your words to get cut off and you to let out a loud moan. He leaned his body back up against your back and whispered in your ear again.

“I’m giving you one more chance to stay quiet before I completely ruin you; do you understand?” Nodding your head quickly and breathing heavily, you directed your attention back to the movie once again, but Yunho was too far in his head now. He knew you didn’t really care for the movie and just wanted to sit on his dick for the rest of the night, so he lazily rolled his hips up and down to push himself around. Smirking to himself as he could hear just the faintest of whimpers coming from you as you stayed focused on the screen. You could not grasp onto anything that was happening, but to trick Yunho into thinking you were watching, you stayed facing forward and fixed your eyes on the screen.

This was going to be a long night.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @yeosangsbbg @10nantscompanion @v-lvs-yungi @dawn-iscozy @certifiedmoa @tinyqaa @sleepyw1tch @pancake-freckle @mysteriousrainsworld @xuchiya

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starkwlkr · 7 months

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bitch, i’m a mother! | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance

part 1 part 3

Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK

“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.

“Hey, Lando!”

“Lando! How’s it going?”

“Norris, hey!”

Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.

“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”

“There’s a big chance I might be here.”

Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”

As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.

“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.

“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.

“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.

“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.

The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.

“Does anyone have any questions?”

Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.

“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.

“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.

“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.

“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”

It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.

“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.

Charlie Hunnam, actor.

Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?

“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.

“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.

“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.

After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”

Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.

“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Oh.

“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.

“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.

“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.

Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”

“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”

Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.

“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.

Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.

“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.

“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”

“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.

“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.

“I love all my grid sons equally.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 one shot #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #platonic #f1 x female reader

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macfrog · 10 months

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sweet child o' mine | pt. i

purely just some fun and games putting big grumpy joel miller slap bang in the middle of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy. dedicated to big sis @mrsmando, who is the light of my life, let herself be completely swept away by this idea into unhinged, whimsical mania with me, and who inspired so many lil details for this story. love u, zhort x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you strike up a deal to attend a wedding with your neighbor as his date. what could go wrong?

warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), grumpy!joel initially finds reader mildly infuriating, cursing, alcohol consumption, discussion of a car accident (non-graphic) & dead parents, softdom!joel as per, fingering, handjob, comeplay, spitting, drunk unprotected one night stand, creampie, praise kink, one mention of nausea (but nothing happens, my little emetophobic angels), someone falls pregnant and it's not joel miller i'll tell you that much. honk if you love cats!!!

word count: 9.8k

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It’s just gone seven on a Saturday night when his knuckles rap on your door.

The sun casts tall, angled shapes on your living room wall. Lights the pages before you in a glow of tangerine. Refracts through the glass tumbler on your coffee table and bleeds the amber liquid onto the pale wood surface. Everything lit in some variation of gold, everything bowing its head quietly as the day begins to turn its back.

The house is still. The world feels still, as though transitioning. Like you’re sat in a waiting room, leg bouncing, anticipating something you don’t know to look for yet.

Perfect, comfortable, still – until he’s on your porch. And he knocks again.

You snap your book shut and slide it across the table, nudging the heavy glass. The ice clinks, irritated.

“You mind fastenin’ your…delicates to your clothesline a little better?”

His voice shoulders its way into your hallway before you’ve even pulled the door back enough to see him. Not that you need to see him to know who it is. You’ve lived in Austin three years now and met only one person with a voice as low and toneless as Joel Miller’s. Slung in sarcasm, dripping with disdain. All that.

You cross your arms and slant against the doorframe, unable to mask your amusement. “Excuse me?”

He answers by lifting his left hand. From his pointer finger hang a tiny pair of white panties, lace pattern fluttering in the late summer breeze. You glance over his shoulder as you steal them from his grasp, balling them in your fist.

“Uhuh. They were sitting on my back lawn. I have company tonight, y’know. I can’t have women’s underwear just – lyin’ in my damn yard.”

Your head tilts. Ears prick. “Company? You hostin’ somethin’?”

His shoulders drop with a sigh. “No. I am not hostin’ anythin’.”

“Good. ‘cause I’d want an invite.”

“If I were hostin’, you’d be the last person I would invite. And you know that.”

“Ouch,” you pout, “that hurts, Miller. I watered your plants while you were off visiting your brother last month. They woulda died without me there.”

“And I am grateful to you,” Joel grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I need those anywhere in view of my kitchen window.” He throws a pointed finger to your elbow, where your panties sit scrunched in your fist.

You look down to the froth of frill spilling between your knuckles, and back up to his dark features – his glower casting a shadow over the hazel eyes and deepening the creases between his brows. You smirk, a realization dawning.

Company – that he doesn’t want seeing a pair of someone else’s underwear.

“You have a date.”

Joel’s tongue flicks across the inside of his cheek. He glances over his shoulder and speaks through his teeth. “No, not a date,” he quietly tells the street.

“But you have a lady comin’ over. Or at least – someone you don’t want seeing these.” You unfold your arms and twirl your fist. The gentle wind lifts the lace.

He grunts. A low hmph. Agreement, you think.

“Sounds like a date.”

He hisses, “’s not a date.”

Your stare doesn’t slip from his. Not when his brows tighten, not when his jaw does, too. Not even when he sucks a breath between gritted teeth. Your smile widens.

Finally, with a sigh, he concedes. “It’s…it’s somebody Tommy ‘n Maria are tryna set me up with. Alright?”

“So – a date.”

“If you don’t –” Joel’s head flicks over to his own driveway at the same time his hand lifts, a pointed gesture you read as – shut the fuck up. “We’re just having a few drinks. Just – hangin’ out.”

“Just hangin’ out,” you repeat, eyes widening. “One-on-one. With some woman who – Wait, Tommy’s in Wyoming. How the hell do he and his wife know someone way the hell down here?”

“From before they moved. And – Maria ain’t his wife. Yet. They’re getting married next month.”

Suddenly the sun reappears over the dark horizon. The evening begins to clear up, make sense again. You lift your chin, nodding.

“Right, right. So, she gonna be your plus one, or…?”

The understanding raises his heckles again. Exasperated, he asks, “How many damn questions are you gonna –? I’m only here to – to return your –” He nods once more to the pale fabric in your hand.

A laugh shoots from your nostrils. “What’s the matter? You don’t like – whatever her name is?”

“Laura.”

“Laura,” you breathe.

“And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just – she…”

“She…?”

“She has, like, five cats, and it’s just…hair, everywhere. And at their engagement party, she spilled an entire margarita down me. Right down my –” He sweeps a hand down his front, balling his fists again once they reach the hem of his shirt.

Your lips turn, amused. “Five cats. Cat lady Laura. Well. Have fun, I guess. Thanks for these.”

He acknowledges your raised fist with a bashful glance. He’s already halfway down your front steps when he says, “Keep an eye on your laundry from now on,” and strides off back to his own place.

Joel has lived here his whole life. In Austin. You’ve no idea when he moved in next door, just that he was here when you did. You don’t know much about him at all – the fact he even filled you in enough to tell you about his date is shocking enough.

The day you first arrived, U-Haul truck squealing to a halt by the curb, he found himself unlucky enough to be stood in his front yard watering the blond patches of his grass. He saw you struggling to open the rear door of the truck, and with a grumble and a glance across the street for a more eager rescuer, he tossed his hose and came over to help.

He unclicked the heavy latch and pushed the door up with enough ease to put you to shame. And he seemed to feel some obligation when he saw the mass of belongings stuffed in the back, to help you unload them. Didn’t seem overjoyed by the thought, mind you, what with the sigh he let slip when you hopped up and held out the first box.

He indulged you for no more than one hour. Answered every question you had about the neighborhood, dodged every one about himself. He told you about the couple across the street with the newborn baby, told you about your neighbor on the other side who pretends to garden just so she can snoop on everyone else’s business. And as soon as the last box thudded down on your gleaming living room floor, he nodded, and paced back over to his own property.

He's a good guy. You know this much. He’s a dick to you most days, but he’s honest, and he’s kind when you catch him in the right light. He takes deliveries for you when you’re not home; he once drove Diane to the vets when she showed up on his doorstep in the dead of night, Fred the Jack Russell ailing in her arms.

He’s observant. Noticed just this summer the three different plumbers who showed up to your house in the space of two days, and came over as the third guy was leaving – his shining bald head low between his shoulders.

‘s the matter? Joel asked, watching the navy overalls sink into the rusted vehicle.

Kitchen sink’s leakin’. Fuckin’ – nobody can fix it.

He shouldered you out of the way with his then-trademark sigh and left twenty minutes later, your kitchen finally free of the dripdripdrip you’d been plagued with for a week straight.

He’s good. He’s a good neighbor. But, man, is he private.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place. His body blocks it anytime you’re on his doorstep. He has a brother, you know that – though, only since last month, when he asked you to keep an eye on his garden – and you know, now, that the brother is getting married.

You know that he likes country music, know he plays guitar – accidentally. You heard him one day in the spring, when he left his window open and you were lounging by your pool. When he looked out and noticed how you’d angled your sunbed to listen, really listen, he slammed it shut.

You know he’s single and childless and has been for at least the three years you’ve lived next door to him.

You know little fucking else.

The words on the curled pages seep into one another. You’re staring through the book now back in your hands, the shape of your living room blurring around you: the brick fireplace, the still, red light of the TV. The lulling sway of the sheer curtains, pushed like the tides by the air through the open window.

You cross your ankles on the coffee table. Your lips purse. Tongue dabs at the smoky-sweet singe of whiskey on the flesh of your cheeks. From here, you can see the street outside Joel’s house. If – when – Laura pulls up, you’ll know. And you’ll be here to watch. Survey. Observe.

See what kind of woman a guy like Joel Miller takes to his brother’s wedding.

It’s nine fifty-two when she eventually leaves.

She’s been in there two hours and seventeen minutes. Her car – a kind of rotten green Chevrolet with one tail light out – sits patiently out front, like even it can’t wait to help her fucking disappear.

You’re hoisting a swollen black bag down your drive when his porch light flickers on and his front door opens. The glossy plastic exhales as it slumps against the trashcan. You dust your hands. Joel hasn’t noticed you yet.

“…so nice gettin’ to properly know you,” Laura’s crooning, sidestepping as Joel walks calmly down to her car. Ushering her. You hold back a laugh.

“Thanks for comin’,” he says, his voice falling flat in the windless evening. He’s a step ahead of her, like a parent leading their child away from the park. She’s still babbling about his six-string.

“Maybe next time I can hear a little somethin’…” she says, and you know from the way he halts that Joel hears the same questioning tone you do, the way somethin’ curls up at its end.

“Maybe,” he says, curtly. His words curl down. And then nothing else, and Laura – who, now that she’s a little closer, stood on the curb by her car door, you notice has sweeping golden hair which flicks away from her plump cheeks, and bright eyes which dazzle in the dusky glow – is forced to cough up one last chance.

“I gave you my number,” she says, then, “I didn’t get yours?” and this time, it’s definitely a question.

Joel pretends to pat down his pockets. “I musta left my phone in the house.”

You can’t help it. A scoff bursts from your lips. But he still doesn’t look over.

“Well,” Laura tugs on the handle, “thank you for a lovely evenin’. I’ll hear from ya.”

Joel smiles but puts a hand on the door, like he might slam it shut for her if she tried to backtrack. But she doesn’t. She swings both legs in, pulls it closed, and the engine spurts to life.

As she pulls off, Chevrolet jolting a little, you notice the bright yellow bumper sticker plastered squint beneath the license plate. You walk silently over to Joel, grass prickly under your socks.

“Honk If You Love…Cats,” you murmur, shoulder brushing off his bicep.

He sniffs. Tightens the grip his arms have on his chest. His eyes are fixed on the one red light, slowly shrinking into the distance. “Don’t even.”

“Good date?”

“I said don’t.”

“She talk much about her cats?”

“Goodnight.”

“Did you ask their names, at least?”

He’s backing up, crossing the dark lawn towards his front steps. He looks you up and down, his lips a flat line. Your sweat shorts. Your bare legs. The tight vest top molded around your breasts. His eyes shoot back up. “No more questions. No more pesterin’ me.”

“Nothin’ about the cats? Seriously, dude?” You lift your arms, grinning after his dark figure, swaggering up the porch steps.

Joel ignores you. He disappears through his front door and the light is snuffed. You slink back up to your house, grateful for the blanket of darkness covering the skip in your step.

Eleven hours later, you’re stood in front of your bedroom mirror.

The day melts against your window. Brilliant blue sky, cradling soft puffs of snow-white clouds. Crows on Diane’s roof cawing, slowly yellowing trees rustling. The bright, hot square across your front where the sun forces her way in.

You turn, taking the loose hem of your sleepshirt in your fingers, and pull it over your body, tossing it to the foot of the bed as you examine the pattern of colors hanging from inside your closet.

You take them one by one, tug them free, slot them back in. Eventually you settle for a gray hoodie, cropped and loose. As you haul it from its hanger, there’s a whine from the wooden cabinet. A squeal. The top shelf rips from either side, dropping to the closet floor and taking the pole with it.

“What the f–? You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you growl, stepping forward to run your fingers along the splintered wood where the nails have ripped themselves free. Four black holes, jagged insides of the closet pricking your fingertips.

The crumple of clothes and hangers sulks up at you pathetically. You fall back onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. The fan whirs slowly, scooping your gaze and throwing it in lazy circles.

The closet was old, anyways. Was here when you moved. It’s probably about time you had some new ones built. But fuck, that’s gonna cost. Ripping the old ones out, building them from scratch. The fan pulls your eyes back around to twelve o’clock.

Joel’s a contractor. He could do ‘em. Might give you a discounted rate, too, for all the times you move his newspaper from his front lawn to his doorstep for him. Either that, or he’d want something in return. And what handy skills do you have? You once knitted a scarf for you grandma for Christmas. Maybe not Joel’s thing. You can cook mac ‘n cheese – though one lousy meal isn’t payment enough for an entire wall of solid wood, two panes of glass and two days’ labor.

A favor, maybe. An IOU. What the fuck kinda favor does Joel Miller need–?

You’re hopping over the tiny burst of hedge between his yard and yours before the thought is finished, bending to scoop his newspaper up and slotting it under your arm. He answers just as you lift your fist to pound on his door for a second time.

You slap the rolled paper into his chest. “I have an idea.”

He squints at you in the summer light. “Wh–? Didn’t I tell you not to p–?”

“I’ll be your date.”

Joel blinks.

“I’ll be your date,” you repeat. “I got a wardrobe needs replacing. You do it, for free, and I’ll be your date.”

“Your wardrobe?”

“Crapped out on me this mornin’. I don’t want to pay for some stranger who’ll overcharge me ‘n do a half-assed job. Fix it, ‘n you don’t have to take cat lady Laura to Tommy’s wedding. And you can fix my kitchen sink, too.”

“I already fixed your kitchen sink.”

“It’s back at it. Drippin’ all through the damn night. Drip drip drip –”

“Alright.” Joel’s palm is up again. He does that a lot when he’s talking to you. “Alright. Wardrobe ‘n sink.”

“We have a deal?” you ask, extending your hand.

His chest fills with a thoughtful breath. His eyes scan you up and down, lingering somewhere a little lower than your jaw for a second. And then, the heavy weight of his palm against yours. The tightening of his fingers around your wrist. One sure shake.

Deal.

Two weeks before the wedding, you’re at Joel’s door again.

He’s in a black tee, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair is damp, fringe still dripping onto his forehead. He runs a hand through the gray-singed brown and stares at the tangle of fabric slung over your arm. “The hell is this?”

“Do you know what you’re wearin’?”

His eyes roll up to meet yours. “Do I know what I’m wearin’?”

You nod. “You’re the best man. Guessing Tommy has you covered?”

“Black suit,” he says, after a beat.

“That’s it? He ain’t got no theme?”

Joel’s head cocks. “I don’t do themes.”

You roll your eyes, ducking under his arm fixed against the doorpost. He manages three words of protest and then shuts the door in resignation, turning to watch as you take his stairs two at a time.

“You are so damn annoyin’, you know that?” his voice echoes behind you.

“You want this date or not, Miller?” you call over your shoulder, following the route through the identical house to your own bedroom – thankful when you nudge the door and it opens to reveal his bland, colorless decor. “Very…gray,” you note, feeling the shadow of him over your shoulder.

You throw the dresses down on his bed, satin and lace and pink and green swimming between one another on his sheets.

“I’m not wearin’ a dress.”

You glower at him. “Ha. We have to match.”

He rubs the towel against the back of his head, drying the dark hair. “Match how?”

“Y’know, your suit ‘n my dress. If I’m your date, we have to match.”

“Already told you. I’m wearin’ a black suit.”

“Right. But, like – what color tie? And can it be any of these colors?” You hold your hands out, surfing over the sea of shades. “Maybe,” you lift your eyebrows, eyes darting to the pale teal color, “this one?”

Joel entertains you for all of five seconds, lifting his cheeks in a false grin before they deflate. “No. Black.”

“Joel.”

He slings the towel over his folded arms, and looks at you plainly. “Black,” he says again, in a tone of voice which sounds something like a door being slammed shut.

Your eyes thin, and you gather your dresses up in one swipe. “Can you just –? Will you make sure that you match my corsage, at least?”

“Why the hell are you so hung up on this?”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna make it believable. You turned down cat lady Laura, this is what you get.”

He sighs, tossing the towel over to his laundry basket. “I will make sure I match your corsage. Happy?”

“Happy. Are you ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

You huff, head rolling back. “You are so prima-donna, Joel Miller.”

With a sarcastic chuckle, he shoves you out of his bedroom to get dressed. You saunter down his stairs, drinking in every detail of his home as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to see it.

It probably is, when you think about it. You don’t imagine he’ll be inviting you over for drinks anytime soon.

Your eyes move along the wall as you slowly thump down his stairs, thrown from framed photo to framed photo – a black and white photo of a man with a tousle-haired boy on his lap, the kid’s tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth as he wraps his small hand around the neck of a guitar; an out-of-focus Christmas photo, a family of four sat in front of a million multicolored orbs dotted along the branches of a tree; a kid with skinned knees crouched by a German shepherd, his lanky arms hooked around the dog’s thick neck.

One brown suede jacket hangs from a coat peg at the bottom, Joel’s boots sat loose and unlaced beneath. A dark blue blanket draped over the back of his couch. A painting of a moose over his fireplace. Shelves lining one entire wall decorated with carved-wood animals, with more photographs of times gone and memories made, with books and DVDs that lend your fingertip with a heap of white dust as you drag it across their spines.

Enough to paint a picture, not quite enough to show you the colors. The tones, the depth. Despite your best efforts, the man remains a mystery. You settle with the fact he will never be fully revealed.

The creak of his stairs turns your attention from the guitar on the wall around to his tall figure, fixing the collar of the loose flannel over his shoulders.

“You ready?” Joel asks, bending with a groan to reach for his boots.

“Yep,” you reply, leaning forward to glance into his kitchen while his head’s down. The most you manage to observe are the light drapes, the sunlight shooting through and bouncing off of a white-topped island.

“’s go,” he says, keys dangling from his finger.

It takes twenty minutes to drive to Home Depot.

You chitter in Joel’s ear the entire time, reading from his handwritten list of measurements and supplies needed for your new closet. ‘n how do you know this is all enough? Because I know. What if you get started and it’s not? I won’t; it’s enough. You sound so sure. That’s ‘cause I’ve done it before, kid. You take many closetless girls out on fake wedding dates, Joel?

“What’s our story, then?” you ask in the store, fiddling with hanging packets of door hinges while Joel reads thrice over his note. Your hand dives into the bag of M&M’s he begrudgingly bought you at a gas station on the way.

“Our story?” he mumbles back, the words slipping under the mental math you can see going on behind his eyes.

“Like, when people ask how we met. What’s our meet-cute? Both reached for the same door hinge, our hands touched and lit aflame? That kinda thing?”

He doesn’t laugh. Your smile dampens instantly. You kick his boot. “Joel.”

“’sec,” he frowns, “I’m focusing.”

You lean close, pushing on your toes to study the folded slip. His scrawled numbers, the pencil lines blunt and smudged in the creases of the paper.

“Twentytwofortysixeightyninetyfivesixhundredelevenfourtwelvenineteen–”

Joel’s lips seep a maddened sigh; he glances down the aisle like a store attendant might separate you from him if he demanded with enough passion, or maybe if he slipped them a twenty.

“Do you mind?” he barks, his expression a brick wall for your giggles to fall flat to the floor against.

“Home Depot’s your stomping ground. Why the hell do I gotta come watch you pick hinges and timber?”

“Because it’s your damn closet I’m fittin’. Just –” he swipes two packets from their peg, tossing them into the shopping cart, “– come on.”

Joel makes off down the muck-colored floor, the overhead lights reflecting harshly in the shiny surface. The front right wheel of the cart trembles as it rolls, nervously leading the two of you down an aisle lined with cylinder tins and pamphlets on Choosing the right finish.

“So, are your parents gonna be at this wedding?” you ask, taking the cart from Joel’s hands when he drifts off to study a shelf of wood varnish.

His jaw turns towards you, and then back to the tin in his hand. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do I get to meet ‘em?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna introduce your date to your mom and dad?”

He scoffs, stealing a handful of candy. “My fake date?”

“They don’t know that. Let me meet Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

He holds two tins up, offering them to you like answer to your question. “Matt or gloss? Guess it don’t really matter if I’m painting ‘em after.”

“Stop fuckin’ ignoring me. I hate when you do that.”

He leans in close, lowering the matt varnish into the cart. “You think I’m gonna introduce you ‘n your potty mouth to my mom?”

You smirk, eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Funny. What color paint you want? You said something about duck egg?”

“Planning on repainting my room that color, yeah. Hey, you could –”

He swats your pointed finger away, taking the cart back. “We shook on new wardrobe. No changin’ the deal,” he mutters, wandering over to the rainbow of paint tins on the opposite side of the aisle.

You follow him over, eyes moving from blue over to green, the tins plastered with the fake smiles of families and fluffy pet dogs on the front. “Where are your mom and dad from?” you ask.

“Austin,” he replies, eyes squinting to read the small print on the back of one vibrant shade. You shake your head and guide his wrist back to the shelf, where he obediently sets the heavy tin back. “Never known anywhere else,” he adds. “What about you? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Potty Mouth?”

“Uh,” you swipe at your nose awkwardly, “they’re up in Allandale. That’s where I grew up.”

“That so? I got a cousin who used to live that way. Used to take my bike up every Saturday. He lived right by this old car shop, all these old classics they used to fix up ‘n resell.”

“Yeah,” you say, “right next to the cemetery, right?”

“That’s the one,” Joel says, lifting paint tins to the light and setting them down again. “They live nearby?”

Your breathing shifts, starts to claw its way up your throat. Your chest heats, skin lighting with an irritating anxiety. “They’re, um,” you gulp, “they’re in the cemetery.”

Joel pauses, letting the tin slip from his grasp with an echoing thud against the wooden shelf which reverberates in your ears a second too long. “Oh,” he says, set on your expression.

“It’s okay – I don’t mind. It’s – it was a car accident, back when I was eight. I wasn’t in it, or anything. I grew up with my grandma. Really, Joel, I don’t mind,” you add, when his face falls and he begins to apologize.

“I had no idea,” he says, and you break the eye contact before you break a fucking sweat.

“’s all good,” you murmur, lifting paint tins of your own now, focusing on deblurring your glossy vision, “I got to buy a big house with the money they left.”

It thaws him a little. He snorts, and taps the lid of the tin you’re holding. “That one’s nice. You, uh – you okay?”

You finally turn back, the world clearer, colors no longer bleeding into one another through sharp tears. “Yeah. I’m fine. We got everything?”

Joel nods, and wheels the cart around. “You can meet her, if you want. My mom. She’s a little full on, but I reckon you can handle her.”

You smile, following him down the aisle.

A month after he delivered your underwear back to you, you’re back on Joel’s doorstep.

Your hand flicks nervously at your side as you wait for him to answer, petals of your corsage quivering. The clip of his footsteps echoes down the stairs, a deep sound growing louder and louder until the door clinks open and you’re separated only by air.

Joel’s eyes scan down your body at the same time yours scan down his. Black suit, sure enough, just without the jacket, and with his tie slung around his loose collar. You both freeze when your eyes meet again, your lips silently forming the shape of an avalanche of words that refuse to sound until Joel’s do.

“Wow, you –”

“– look great, I –”

“– nice dress, is that –? Sorry –”

“– no, I’m sorry, you were – sorry.” A laugh pushes from your throat. “You look – you look good. Scrub up well, ‘n all that.”

“You too. You – Yeah. That’s a nice color, after all. You suit it.” His eyes linger on your chest, your breasts draped in lustrous silk, decorated with the glint of golden jewelry. You notice.

“Thanks. After all?” You snort, and Joel’s exterior seems to crack a little.

He steps back, ushering you in. “Alright,” he says, taking the tote with your change of clothes from your wrist. He watches across the street as you step over the threshold, his fingertips light on your back as you pass by, like little shocks of lightning up your spine. “You know what I meant.”

Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heels clicking along his varnished floor. Your arms lock around your torso, holding your pashmina in place while Joel totters around, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. His shirt stretches from his tight waistband, fabric flattening against his tummy. Your eyes shoot north again when he speaks.

“You mind doin’ my tie? It’ll end up squint if I do.”

“Sure,” you reply, stepping forward.

He buttons the top of his shirt and lifts his chin, staring at the wall behind you as you tug on the black fabric, the silk slipping through your fingers. You steal glances at the trim of his beard, his pink lips beneath the dark bristles; the slope of his nose, the lines on his worn skin.

He’s rough around the edges, sure, a man in his late forties. But there’s something soft about him, something familiar and…comfortable. The pages of a used sketchbook, the lived-in material of a favorite dress.

You pull the knot higher until it’s sitting in the notch below his Adam’s apple, smoothing it down and giving his chest a light pat before stepping back again.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he mumbles, and a spark lights in your chest. “Oh,” he says, holding a finger up and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a little white box, holding it out for you to see.

Your cheeks swell, eyes flitting up to acknowledge the proud look on his face. “Very nice. Good job.”

“You can do the honors,” Joel says, handing you the boutonniere by the stem.

You pin it through his lapel, straightening it with a focused glance. Joel’s eyes are on you, watching the flutter of your eyelashes, the tilt of your head. “There,” you whisper, leaning back.

He extends his elbow, something of a smile on his lips. You don’t see it often. It beckons a mirrored expression.

Arm in arm, Joel leads you out to the truck, where he helps you up and waits for you to scoop your dress into the footwell before closing the door. You watch patiently as he locks the front door, slings both your bags over his shoulder and jogs back to the truck, tossing them in the backseat before joining you in the front.

“How come he didn’t send a limousine? Or a Jag, or somethin’?”

“You think we’re made a’ money?” Joel asks, smirking.

You return the smile, wrapping your shawl over your body. “Can I pick the music?” you ask, earnestly, a tinge of sweetness to your voice.

Joel glances over again, reaches behind your headrest to reverse out of the drive. He runs his tongue along his top teeth. “No,” he says.

Three hours later, Tommy and Maria are married.

The wedding is…big. Joel’s family is big. The venue – a rustic hotel suite, fairy lights draped from the rafters, blooming flowers sprouting from crystal vases, lace tablecloths and tied chair cushions and wax dripping from thick, naked candles – is big.

Joel’s been good about it – that friendly neighbor you see all too little has been kicked into high gear. He delivered you by hand straight to his mom – a small woman with silver hair neatly twisted into an updo at the back of her head – who took your hand and held it tightly all the way to your seats.

Kind and warm, she asked where you were from, how you met Joel, how long you’d been dating. She offered you some tissues before the ceremony started, then winked and nodded in Joel’s direction as the bridesmaids swept down the aisle.

You lingered behind the photographer while he took photos of the wedding party, instructing them to shuffle a little closer, that’s it; ma’am, with the red hair, lower your bouquet a little; alright, now, everyone: big smiles!

You worried that Joel had kept the same placated smile frozen on his face for so long that it might never melt away, might never return to the stoic scowl you’re so used to seeing on him. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, until he waved you down, flicked his hand, and beckoned you over to the group.

You hesitated. I don’t know if I –

Get over here, girl, Tommy had called, grinning alongside his big brother.

The two Millers slotted you in like a jigsaw piece between their bodies, two arms wrapped around your back – Tommy’s, loose on your shoulders, and Joel’s, tight around your waist. He held you close, squeezing you into his side while the photographer praised the party and snapped photo after photo, the flash burning into your eyes by the time he clapped his hands and thanked you all for your patience.

Drink? Joel had asked, and you’d responded with one thumb up, the other massaging your eyelids. He squeezed your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of bodies.

He’s still over there – by the bar, a wooden structure draped in ivy and studded by steel bolts. His beer in one hand and your wine in the other. A lean, poised figure stood opposite him – her dress a royal purple, her hair a wave of brown spilling over her bare shoulders.

She’s beautiful – a striking charm which draws your eye to her like an arrow directly through the sea of bodies between here and there. Her languid movements, the slow roll of her neck to sweep the hair from one side of her body to the other.

Her head falls back in laugher, her bejeweled hand falls softly on his arm. Your throat closes sharply. Joel nods, angling as if to make off, but she holds onto him and leans in. He laughs, then, at whatever her full lips whisper into his ear, and he finally breaks off from her and returns to you.

He pushes the glass by its base across the smooth tablecloth. Your fingers brush over one another as you trade, the stem sitting between your index and middle. He’s warm, his knuckles kissing yours.

“How was it, then, talkin’ to my mom?” Joel asks.

You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palm. “I like her. She’s funny.” And then, when he tosses his head in response, “Who were you talkin’ to?”

Joel follows your eyeline over to the woman in the purple dress. The glint of white crystal on her neck. The drama of dark hair on pale skin. “Uh,” he wanders around your back to his chair, “we used to work together.”

Your nails tap against the glass. “Oh, yeah?”

He sniffs. Doesn’t meet your eye. “Yep.”

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

He watches a blue orb dance over your head on the wall, a spot of light from the disco ball over the dancefloor. “Lotta memories.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes plummet. Fall from the string bulbs straight to your face, sparkling in the rainbow lights. “You want me to look at you? There.”

You grin. “’s better. If you stare up there long enough, they might stick.”

“Safer to have ‘em stuck on you, is it?”

“Mhm,” your voice echoes around the curve of your wine glass, “better view. So, who is she?”

Joel shifts uncomfortably. He twirls the bottle in his fingers. “We…we were together for some time. A few years.”

“An ex,” you muse, stain of lipstick left on the rim of your glass. “How many years?”

“Eight.”

You almost choke on your drink. “Eight – eight years?”

Joel nods, waiting for you to catch your breath. Expression never changing. Bottle still twirling. “Haven’t seen her in a while. We were just catchin’ up.”

“Eight fucking years. Why the fuck aren’t you married?”

He scoffs. “That’s a fifth-date question.” He lifts the bottle to his lips, tongue pushes against the glass.

“I don’t need five fuckin’ wardrobes,” you quip, and he laughs. Like, genuinely laughs. His head tips back, his teeth show. Your chest swells, confidence and relief blooming there. She didn’t make him laugh like that – not from where you were watching.

It becomes something of a mission in the back of your mind – tallying up how many times you can make his chest shudder, his shoulders jerk. How many times he leans in closer and repeats whatever you said, eyes closing over and hand hitting his thigh. How many times he looks at you and your stomach flutters, the blood cartwheels through your veins, the bones of your ribcage readjust and make room for the swelling of your heart.

Within four rounds, you’ve lost count.

The thudding beat of the music muffles in your drunken ears, like it’s coming from the next room. Your gaze fixes on the vase in the center of the table, the bouquet spilling over the glass. The wide burst of speckled lilies, the humble blush of tulips between. The colors soften and blur the longer you stare at them.

The jerk of Joel’s shoulders stirs you from your daydream. That’s one more.

“What?” you ask, head rolling to look over to him.

“You still in there?” he asks, one word slurring into the next like waves lapping.

You scoff, looking back to the pink flowers. “You know who has tulips?” you ask him.

He lifts his eyebrows. Who?

“Alice.”

“Brown?”

Your head nods heavily. “One time, she was out getting her mail, and I had just pulled up in my car on the phone to my best friend – he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, it was a whole thing…” You bat your hand. “Anyway. She pretended to tend to her tulips for forty-five minutes while I sat talkin’ to him in the driveway.”

Joel’s head tilts back with a burst of laughter. “She hear every word?”

“Every – damn – word. Stood by the fence listenin’.”

“That woman is som’ else,” Joel says, shaking his head. He stares down at the bottle between his fingers. His thumbs play with the curled corner of the label. “Didn’t I warn you about her?”

“Mhm.” You smile, realizing he has the same memory that you do, locked up somewhere in his mind. The sweat running down his temple, the dark patch between his shoulder blades. His hands gripping the heavier boxes, leaving you to carry the linen, the base of a lamp. Nodding as he wandered back over to his own porch, calling back for you to Holler if you need anythin’.

The high squeal of the Sweet Child O’ Mine intro snaps you back to the wedding reception. Tommy and Maria are playing air guitar on the dancefloor over Joel’s shoulder. You unstick your gaze from his white shirt, unsure how long you’ve been fucking staring.

Joel sits forward, drags his chair across the polished floor closer to you. He fixes the strap on your dress, untwisting it before settling back again. Your eyes follow his fingers as they leave your shoulder and sit back on the curve of his thigh, lifting when his voice breaks through to your eardrums.

“What room number did you say you were, again?”

Your shoulders roll. “Thirty-four, I think.”

Joel nods. Points to himself. “Thirty-six.” And then he glances over his shoulder, watches as Tommy kneels before Maria and rocks his head, his messy mop of hair tossed across his shoulders. The older Miller brother turns back. “Think they’ll miss us if we call it a night?”

“We’re callin’ it a night?”

“Figure if I’m headin’ off then you won’t wanna be sat here by yourself,” Joel says, and he’s right. He stands up, sets the half-empty bottle on the tablecloth and stares down at you. “I’m callin’ it a night,” he tells you. “You comin’?”

The colors in the room spin like the reels of a slot machine. Your fingers sit lightly in his outstretched palm, and you pull yourself up alongside him.

“’s a good girl,” he mutters, looking over your shoulder to the doorway, and your eyes sober up long enough to catch the flicker in his eye.

You totter along the hallway, arm in arm, anchoring yourselves together. Whichever way one sways, the other inevitably follows. You’re laughing, and Joel’s hushing you, warning that there are folks tryna – tryna sleep, we’re in a fancy place, hey, da-rlin’, no – you gotta shhhut up.

“Great party,” you decide, finally docking against your door.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, leaning a little on the wall. The gentle glow of the hallway lights him perfectly; the strong angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. The hazel pools that make up his irises, the swollen circles of black in the middle. And the twinkle in them, like the moon reflecting on dark water, every time his gaze lifts to you.

He’s different tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol. The way it colors everything in a peachy film, all objects softened and rosy and shapeless. But he feels different, too. You suddenly realize, shoulder pressed hard against the cold doorframe, that you’ve never touched one another more than you have today. His elbow in yours, his arm around your waist, his hand through yours as you danced together.

“Are you tired?” you ask, head rolling.

“Tired? No. Drunk, yeah. Not tired.” He laughs again. It’s infectious.

“You wanna come inside?” you ask, words leaping from your giggle.

He takes ten seconds to consider it. Slumps into the wall, steadied only by his forearm pushing him back upright. His watch face catches the light behind him.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”

Your hand fumbles in your clutch for the keycard, swiping the handle and pushing down heavily. You spill into the dark room, light sneaking in from the sconce outside your window, and spin back to face him, his hand locked tight with yours.

Joel follows you slowly as you back towards the bed, kicking your heels off and tripping over the skirt of your dress. When your legs hit the plush mattress, his body leans into yours. Your lips ghost across his, your words pushing them apart one by one.

“This ain’t – part of the – agreement,” you murmur, the coarse hair of his beard scratching your chin. You pull apart his tie, loosening the knot.

“Changed my mind,” he replies, collapsing on top of you on the bed.

Your head rolls back when his lips suck into your neck. You wrestle with his belt, with the waist of his suit trousers. “No changin’ the deal, remember?”

“Tell me to stop.”

If you had any intention of answering him, your body overrides it. Words lassoed and dragged back down where they came from, your throat opening only to gasp when Joel’s teeth graze the flesh of your breast. His fingers tug on the straps of your dress, letting them fall from your shoulders until your chest sits exposed.

He drags his tongue along your skin, dipping between your tits while his hands massage them, fingers pinching your nipples. Your back lifts and his hands move beneath, following the curve of your spine to where your dress pools loose around your waist. He pushes down, slinking the smooth fabric from your body.

“You fuckin’…” He clicks his teeth, laughing behind them. Another flush of heat washes over your skin.

You giggle, bending your knees to cover the lace panties he knows all too fucking well. Joel stops you, pushes your legs back down with two heavy hands.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he murmurs, opening your body up again. “You were so happy about me seein’ ‘em a few weeks ago, no?”

“’s different,” you reply, tang of alcohol fueling your words, “now I just want you to take them off me.”

He cocks his head, drinking every word you’re handing over like it’s water from an oasis. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t you?”

You pull him closer by the collar and line your mouth against his, the tip of your tongue wetting the inside of his lips. “You got no fucking idea,” you whisper, whipping the shirt from his torso.

Joel growls, flipping you over and pulling you by the shoulders flush against his chest. You hook an arm around his neck, turn to grant him access to your lips. He kisses you like a starved animal, savoring every taste, teeth nipping at your tingling lips.

His hand curves around your hips, pushing beneath your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger pushing on the spongey hood of your clit. Your head falls limp against his collarbone, back arching as Joel holds you steady with an arm around your waist.

“’s alright, baby,” he coos, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you what you need, alright?”

A strangled moan unravels across your tongue, echoing into Joel’s mouth. Your hips begin to gyrate, meeting the rhythm of his hand, his finger massaging rough circles into your clit. He smirks, peeling the panties down your thighs.

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “you want it bad, huh? Gettin’ so worked up so fast. Here.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, ignoring your moan of protest and replacing it with two fingers on your bottom lip. “Open,” he instructs, and you obey like a fucking dog. He slips them in, thick and heavy, and waits for you to coat them with your wine-stained tongue.

Joel pushes down, forcing a muffled gag from your throat which lifts the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head lightly, whispering, “You got it, ‘s okay.”

A thread of saliva strings between his fingers and your lips when he lowers his hand again, trailing his fingers through your folds until he’s dancing along the seam of your cunt. You jolt forward; Joel hauls you back.

“Just fucking – do it,” you whimper, your walls clenching around nothing.

He holds his fingers together, curling and inserting them in a painfully slow motion. Your knees widen on the mattress, body sinking down by instinct to meet his fist, to feel his thick fingers and wide knuckles as deep as they’ll go.

You gasp when Joel begins hooking them inside you, nudging against your walls like your heartbeat against your clit. Your hand lowers, slipping beneath his loose waistband, beneath the elastic of his boxers and around his already solid cock.

Joel groans, fucking you harder on his hand. “Fuck, just like that, baby. You feel what you do to me?”

“Uhuh,” you reply, voice wanton and broken.

You squeeze him, your fist moving up and down, his warm skin following the movements of your tight grip. His tip is already soaked, precome staining his underwear, dribbling down your thumb.

Joel uses his free hand to shove his pants down, crumpling on the floor at his feet when they free his cock. You carve your mouth around his, the two of you exchanging breath and flicking your tongues together as you fuck one another’s hands, the room slowly filling with the hot, muggy smell of sex.

Joel’s the first to cave. With a jerk of his hips, he takes you by the wrist and frees himself from your clutches.

“You’re gonna make me come, darlin’,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from your cunt.

“That’s kinda the point here,” you reply, teeth bumping into his in a grin.

Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand, glistening with your arousal. “Gotta feel this fucking pussy first.”

You smile, parting your lips for him for the second time, suckling on his fingers and licking them clean of your own salty slick. His cock draws sticky trails on the seam of your thigh.

“Yeah,” Joel breathes, eyes fixed on the place where you close around him, “that good, baby? You gonna let me taste you?”

You release his fingers and he pulls you in, tongue slipping against yours with a groan which vibrates against your jaw. When your lips part, you hold your mouth open, your tongue sat on your bottom lip.

Joel reacts instantly, collecting a bead of saliva in front of his teeth and letting it drop into your mouth. You moan and swallow it, a cocktail of beer and whiskey and slick. Joel watches as you lick your lips, the stained-pink coated in a thick, white shine.

“Alright,” he says, letting you fall forward onto the bed. He jacks himself a few times, spitting into his hand and using it to coat his cock.

“Want you to come in it,” you whine, wiggling your ass for him as he lines up at your slit. You can feel the arousal gathered on his tip, dripping down your cunt.

“Yeah, baby,” Joel growls, a smirk on his lips as he watches himself slowly disappear inside you. And then –

You both fall silent, mouths hanging wide open as you each feel the width of his cock and the tightness of your cunt. The way your body opens up to accommodate his size, the direct pain and ethereal pleasure of Joel pushing into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, your pussy drawing him in with a sweet, wet sound. “Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. So damn gorgeous in that dress.”

You slowly move your hips back to meet him at the base of his cock; dark, trimmed hair bristling against your lips. Joel’s hands lock around your waist, holding you steady with his entirety buried inside, letting you adjust to him.

He’s so fucking big, so wide and deep that your breath tears rugged from your lungs, barreling up your windpipe. Your walls squeeze tight as he pulls out like your body refuses to let him go, like your cells understand better than you do that you were made for this – made for him. Like the only place in the world that he belongs, is somewhere deep inside you.

So big that it hurts, each time he fills you up and stretches you wide open. The pain an eye-rolling, lung-closing, limb-shaking sensation.

Your elbows give, falling chest-first onto the mattress while Joel fucks you hard, his hands gripping your hips. Your cheek and breasts flat against the sheets, your back arched. He slams into you, edging you closer and closer with each meeting of his warm skin against yours, each sopping slap of come and saliva.

The mattress shifts above your head, two valleys where his palms push down heavily, then the weight of his body at the back of your thighs. He towers over you, hips hammering so hard that you’re forced to hook your fingers around his wrists just to stay on the same fucking planet.

“Gonna – fuckin’ – come – baby,” he spits, his jaw locked tight. “You want it in this little pussy? You think she can take it all?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the edges of your words rounded by the silk sheets. “Joel, I – fuck –”

“Yeah, she can,” he agrees, playing with the hair spilling across your shoulders and taking it in a fistful.

The hazy drunken blur begins to turn over in favor of something sharper, something electric pulsing through your veins. Every part of your body alive, everything rising to meet the same high, the same release. You cling onto him, body beginning to melt beneath his.

Joel’s lips press between your shoulder blades. “Don’t fight it, baby, let go. I got you.”

You moan his name in one last pathetic attempt before the world whitens. You clench around him as a deafening orgasm shocks through your body, curling your back and forcing your nails deep into Joel’s wrists.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” Joel gasps. He slams into you one final time before you feel the staggered pump of his come flooding between your walls. “Ahh,” he groans, pushing apart your ass cheeks to watch the trickle seep from your cunt. “Good fucking girl. Take it, baby. That’s my girl.”

He turns you over onto your back and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against your body as he thrusts into you again, tenderly pushing his spend deeper inside. It draws a strained moan from your throat.

“’s alright,” he coos, hips slowing against yours, “just feel it, baby. You feel how deep I am?”

“Uhuh,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, damp with sweat.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” he says, more to himself, before collapsing alongside you, holding your thigh on his hip, his tip still sheathed inside you.

You lie like that for a while, listening to the distant hum of music from downstairs, the party still raving in the belly of the hotel while you two lay in content bliss somewhere in its ribcage. Tracing one another’s features, learning the lines on Joel’s face, the flecks of gray in his eyebrows – all the parts you’re never close nor brave enough to get to know.

His right hand massages your plush waist, his left arm a pillow to rest your heavy, dizzy, drunk head on.

“I wanna do it again,” you whisper, the words sneaking out between heavy breaths.

Joel nods. His bottom lip sticks with sweat to yours. His hips push a little neater into you. “I wanna do it again, too.”

“I wanna do it all night.”

He hasn’t stopped nodding. He shrugs, tightens his grip around your shoulders, and tilts his head. “Then let’s do it all fucking night,” he says, and his lips slam back into yours.

The morning after the wedding, Joel drives you home. The truck soars down the highway, the two of you an uncomfortable distance apart. The same sobering distance you’ve kept all morning – the unreal aftermath of sex.

The rolling waves of bedsheets between your bodies; the sun sifting her long fingers through his hair as she peered through the curtains. The way you’d silently pushed yourself from the mattress, fragmenting your movements and allowing the spring to dip a fraction at a time so not to wake him. The spongey feel of the hotel carpet under the balls of your feet as you’d tottered to the bathroom. The sharp shot of the lock sliding into place, echoing like a bullet.

He waited until you finished showering to get ready himself. Sat on the edge of the bed patiently and watched your shadow beneath the door, the to-and-fro of your silhouette breaking the sliver of golden light as you dressed your sticky body. When you pulled on the metal lock again, he was sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. His bare shoulders were curved, and tanned. You blinked twice to store the image and turned away as he stood.

He says he feels hungover. You say you do, too. It’s the closest you come to talking about it. You hop out of the truck in his drive, your tote bag hooked on your shoulder. The canvas gnawing at the silk inside. Joel tells you he’ll see his end of the deal through in a couple weeks.

“Real busy with work,” he mutters apologetically, his wrists still balancing on the steering wheel.

“That’s good,” you tell him, nodding. “I ain’t in any rush. I know where you live, so.”

A relieved laugh pushes from his lips. “I will get to it,” he assures you.

You shrug casually. “Whenever, Joel.”

You don’t talk for a few days. A few days bleeds into three weeks. You find yourself stood by his front tires, throwing his newspaper onto the porch and scampering when it lands. The noise like a bomb dropping.

Slowly, as the month draws on, you become braver and braver – daring closer and closer to his front door, until you’re back to marching up the steps like you own the place, depositing the roll on his doormat. Rubbing your thumbs against your fingers to feel the ink like satin.

The door cracks open as you make your way back down his steps one bright morning.

“Hey, kid,” Joel murmurs, reaching down for the paper with a groan.

“Hey.”

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, leaning his forearm against the door.

Your head tilts back and forth, your hand lifting to shield your eyes from the sun. “Think I ate som’ bad, maybe. Weird stomach this mornin’.”

Joel’s chin angles. “Hope it ain’t contagious. Was thinkin’ I could get that closet started for you, maybe tomorrow?”

The offer takes you off guard. You buffer for a few seconds before answering, “Sure. Sure, just, uh – just come over whenever, I guess.”

“Nine work for you?”

You nod. “Nine’s good. See ya then.”

It’s something like nine when you find out.

You wake feeling groggy. Tired, sluggish. A heavy ache pulling on your breasts as you rise from bed, tender and swollen. You stand in the bathroom, milky morning light filtering in through the doorway, and your stomach lurches. Waves of nausea deep in your belly, rocking back and forth, swirling and spiraling.

You’ve a box under your sink. It makes sense. Before Joel was some date from Hinge, who fucked you against the wall of his living room and who snored so loud that you left before the sun came up. Negative. Like always.

But it never hurts to be sure.

The pack tears like it’s liquid in your hands. Peels back to reveal the plastic white test, the bubblegum pink cap – like it’s something fun and sweet to place the direction of your future into this little device. A clinical compass needle.

Three to five minutes. You set it down on the counter and drag yourself back through to your room, lifting your bedsheets, tucking them under the mattress, heaving your pillows back into place against the headboard. An uncomfortable heat boiling under the surface of your skin, a prickle of sweat clinging to the nape of your neck.

A sickly taste harboring on your tongue, you pad back to the bathroom and swipe the test up. Your eyes scan past the result window to the counter as you reach for your toothbrush – and then snap abruptly back to the tiny oval. Your outstretched hand freezes in midair. There’s no fucking w–

Your arm swings back to reach for the light cord. The bulb hesitates – flickers, like it’s unsure whether to reveal the truth to you. It knows something you don’t. It’s seen something it doesn’t want to show you. You stare at the pregnancy test.

Two little pink lines stare back. And Joel knocks at your door.

#forgive me for it not being clm or sof #they're coming very soon i promise #this was too fun an idea not to chase #i have the attention span of my labrador retrievers (nil)#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller

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misswynters · 2 months

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Tamed Targaryen Heart

Aemond Targaryen x fem!wife! reader

[warnings: pregnancy, difficult birth

[word count: 1.1k

[a/n: maybe i will turn this into a series…

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The dimly lit chamber was filled with the scent of lavender and the muffled sound of Aemond Targaryen’s pacing footsteps. He glanced over at you, lying on the bed, sweat beading on your forehead as you gripped the bed sheets tightly. Your two sons, Aerys and Daeron, were asleep in their chambers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that you were enduring.

“Aemond,” you groaned, your voice strained with frustration and pain, “I can’t take this anymore. This girl is taking her sweet time.”

Aemond moved swiftly to your side, his single eye filled with concern. He brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. “You are strong, my love. She will come when she is ready.”

“I’m tired of waiting!” you snapped, your patience long gone. “I just want her out. Now!”

The midwives and nurses exchanged wary glances but kept their focus on preparing for the birth. Your irritation was palpable, and the tension in the room thickened with each passing moment.

“Why don’t we try going for a walk?” you suggested suddenly, struggling to sit up. “Maybe that will help get things moving.”

Aemond hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise? Perhaps we should bring one of the nurses.”

“No,” you insisted, your eyes blazing with determination. “Just you and me. I need to get out of this room.”

Aemond nodded, knowing better than to argue when you were in this state. He helped you to your feet, supporting you as you made your way out of the chamber and into the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The familiar halls were quiet, the stillness broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight and the distant murmur of guards on patrol.

As you walked, Aemond kept a steadying arm around your waist, his presence a comforting anchor. “What shall we name her?” he asked softly, hoping to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, leaning heavily on him. “I haven’t been able to think of anything that feels right.”

“How about Visenya?” Aemond suggested, his voice thoughtful. “After the conqueror queen.”

You shook your head. “That’s a cursed name. Even so, it doesn’t fit. She needs a name that’s isn’t so common.” You continued your slow pace, Aemond offering more suggestions: Rhaella, Alysanne, Naerys. Each name was met with a thoughtful pause, then a gentle shake of your head.

Finally, as you turned a corner, you stopped abruptly. “Aemond, what about Aelora?”

“Aelora,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “Aelora Targaryen. It’s beautiful.”

You smiled faintly, a glimmer of excitement breaking through your exhaustion. “Aelora it is.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped you, and you doubled over with a cry. Aemond’s grip tightened as he steadied you. “What is it?”

A pool of water began to form as it dripped down your leg. “My water just broke,” you gasped, clutching your swollen belly. “Its time now…she likes the name Aelora.” You slightly chuckled in pain.

Panic and excitement surged through Aemond as he helped you back towards your chambers, shouting for the midwives as you neared. The nurses rushed to your side, guiding you back to the bed and preparing for the final stages of labor.

The next few hours were a blur of pain and struggle. You gripped Aemond’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you fought to bring your daughter into the world. Aemond stayed by your side, whispering words of encouragement and love, his own heart aching to see you in such pain.

“Come on, my love,” he urged softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. “You can do this. She’s almost here.”

“I can’t,” you cried out, tears streaming down your face. “It hurts too much.”

“You can,” he insisted, his voice firm but gentle. “You are the strongest woman I know. Just a little more.”

With one final, agonizing push, a wail filled the room, and your daughter was born. You collapsed back against the pillows, sobbing with relief and exhaustion. Aemond’s eye shone with pride and joy as the midwife placed the tiny, crying bundle into your arms.

“Look, Aemond,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “She’s finally here. Our little Aelora.”

Aemond gazed down at the newborn, his heart swelling with love. He gently touched the baby’s cheek, awed by the miracle in his arms. “She’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it, my love. You brought her into the world.”

You held Aelora close, tears of happiness mingling with the sweat on your face. Aemond wrapped his arms around both of you, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face.

Once the midwives had cleaned and tended to both you and the baby, Aemond and you made your way to your sons’ chambers, eager to introduce them to their baby sister. Aerys and Daeron, roused from their sleep, looked up in wonder as their parents entered with the tiny bundle.

“This is your sister, Aelora,” Aemond said softly, kneeling down to their level. “Say hello.”

Aerys, the elder of the two, reached out a tentative hand to touch his sister’s tiny fingers. “She’s so small,” he whispered in awe.

Daeron, younger but no less curious, leaned in to peer at the baby. “Can we hold her?”

“Of course,” you said, carefully transferring Aelora into Aerys’s waiting arms. The boys’ faces lit up with joy as they cradled their sister, their excitement infectious.

Aemond watched his family with a sense of profound contentment, a rare, unguarded smile gracing his lips. For this moment, all was right in their world. His heart swelled with love and pride, knowing that together, he had a beautiful family. And so, in the heart of the Red Keep, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you both welcomed your daughter into the world. Your hearts full of hope and love for the days to come.

banner by: @cafekitsune

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd season 2 #house targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond x you #aemond fic #viserys targaryen

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redstarwriting · 1 year

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pda/general affection hcs | i.

ft. hobie brown & miles morales

request?: yes

request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can't wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it's rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”

warnings: language, cuteness, mentions of dying, mentions of injuries, mentions of throwing up, mentions of being overwhelmed

a/n: i love hcs lol this was actually how i first starting writing and it’s so fun bc i can be my sarcastic self without having to change any of it teehee, thank you for requesting anon! thinking of doing this for other characters to, what does everyone think?

i’ve made a pt ii. to this with gwen and pavitr if you wanna check it out!

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hobie brown | spider-punk

pda

- he’s kind of a middle ground - not crazy about it - not against it at all - he just - hold onto your hats for this one - ✨he does what he wants✨ - ofc it also depends who’s company you’re in - if y’all are with Miles, Gwen, and Pavitr, he’s super comfortable and a part - of his body will always be touching yours - but it’s not like he’s goin out of his way to be like LOOK AT MY PARTNER - HOWEVER - if he’s ANYWHERE where there are authority figures? - *cough* miguel *cough* - he will just start to make out with you - LMAO - “Hobie, can you stop kissing your partner and listen to me.” “No.” “You’re aware of how rude you’re being?” “Good.” - if you don’t like it ofc he won’t but he WILL be touchier with you in those moments - because it pisses people off - and he loves that - also if he felt threatened? - he’d probably get a little touchier than usual - but honestly he almost never feels threatened so who knows if you’d ever experience that - and if he did ever feel threatened he would feel better knowing that you always wear one of his studded bracelets - ppl will ask where you got it and you’ll be all - “Oh! My boyfriend Hobie!” - he loves seeing the hope drain out of anyone’s eyes when he appears behind you after that statement, he finds it so amusing every time - he’s only obsessed with a few things - like there is something he will ALWAYS do - he is OBSESSED and i mean OBSESSSSSEEDDD with having his hand in your back pocket - at all times - only if it isn’t around your shoulders (another obsession of his) - like y’all are going to one of his shows? - you enter with his hand in your back pocket - after gets offstage? - hand in back pocket - walking home? - hand in back pocket - sometimes y’all will walk instead of him picking you up and webbing back home JUST BECAUSE he wants to put his hand in your back pocket - he also LOVES using you as an armrest - if you’re short, he places his arm on your head like an armrest - if you’re average height, he’s still using your head as an armrest - if you’re tall or as tall as him he will climb a wall to use your head as an armrest - it gets you flustered and he thinks it’s adorable! - and eye contact? - he will keep his eyes trained on you at all times - he’s always looking at you - or else he’s looking for you - only looks away SOMETIMES when he’s talking to other people - “Hobie, I’m over here.” “Yeah, I know.” “So stop looking at them, I’m the one talking to you.” “Yeah, but you ain’t the fittest person in the room so piss off, eh?” - that being said - there is something he just doesn’t do in public - he doesn’t hold hands - i do feel like he would hold pinkies with you upon request - but holding hands just isn’t his thing - in public👀

general affection

- THIS MAN HAS THE WORLD FOOLED - he acts all nonchalant about it - acts like he only does pda to go against societal rules - which he does BUT ALSO - he is so touchy - he isn’t clingy by any regard - but he LOVES being affectionate - just like the smallest things - every morning when y’all wake up in the same bed together and he wakes up before you (which is a lot bc he doesn’t sleep well) he will place a feather-light kiss somewhere on your face so he doesn’t wake you up - but like clockwork - he will do it - and after he will just lay there and hold you for a bit - even when during the night the two of you separate from each other he will always reach out for you during those times - and he will maneuver you back into his arms so he can just lay there with you for a bit - every time you ask him why he just tells you you make him a “bloody softie” - which yeah you do - but also - he gets scared when he comes home, you won’t be there - with his job that isn’t really a job and all, he gets so nervous that you’ll just be fed up with it and leave - or worse, you’ll be used as bait for him - bait which he would immediately take, of course - he even does it because he thinks about the possibility of him not coming home one day - and he wants you to feel like you were loved if that happens - he also just loves the little smile that comes to your face every morning - when you realize he’s done it again - and that is just ONE THING - he hates getting injured, but would lie if he said he hated getting patched up by you - when you’re cleaning his wounds with alcohol the two of you hold hands - he’ll squeeze when it stings and you’ll squeeze when you feel bad - so you’re kinda squeezing his hand the whole time - but you know how i said he doesn’t hold hands in public? - at home it’s a different story - watching tv? - hands are held - looking at the stars from the top of a building? - hands are held - throwing up after drinking too much? - hands are held - so is hair - and he rubs your back - you rub his - he adores back scratches (not when he’s throwing up just in general LMAO) - one thing he didn’t realize he loved so much until it happened was when he was sitting and playing his guitar on y’alls bed - just mindlessly finger picking some melodies - and you came up and sat behind him and put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his cheek and just - stayed there - it made him melt - he loves it so much - he especially loves it when you hum along - even if you can’t hold a tune - it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard he doesn’t care - you can expect him to be all over you the minute he gets back from being Spider-Punk - especially when he has a bad day - i could probably give more examples but this is already kinda long lmao oops

overall

- he LOVES affection - public and private - if he loves you, he’s gonna show it - he’s gonna scream it, literally and figuratively - everyone will know y’all are together - which he loves - but that’s not why he does it - he just loves you - and doesn’t care what other ppl think 🤭

miles morales | spider-man

pda

- omg this lil man is so awkward - i’m far older than him and he makes me think of how nervous and awkward i was at his age when it came to any type of romance - so i can see him being SO unintentionally awkward in public - he tries so hard to be cool - but omg - the tiniest thing will go wrong and he’ll go from 😏 to 😟 - everything is the end of the world until you assure him it isn’t - like the time he saw you outside around Brooklyn Visions Academy and thought it’d be so cute to go up behind you and cover your eyes and say “guess who :)” - except it wasn’t you - you were across the street and watched it all go down - he literally made eye contact with you the minute he tried to be cute - the HORROR on his face - he was immediately apologizing to the random person he just did that to - in the moment you were so confused - but when you and him were in his dorm and he was flailing his arms around -and yelling in lowercase explaining it? - oh my god - hilarious - he was all pouty when you started laughing so you had to attack his face with little kisses to make him cheer up - one would have done the trick but he was grateful for all of the ones you gave him regardless - or the time he went to wrap his arm around your waist during lunch because he wanted to be all cute in school and you turned around as soon as he put his arm out and tried to walk and his sturdiness and strength made you literally drop your lunch tray and the food went everywhere - and there you were again in his dorm as he was flailing his arms around and yelling in lowercase apologizing because you just got new shoes and he ruined it and— - shut him up with a kiss, would you? - a display of public affection that always happens though is you’re always in his jacket - to the point where he has two of the same jacket now so you guys can be twinning :,) - “Look, babe! Same jacket!” “Oh my god wait! We’re gonna be so cute!” “I know, right? Pretty smart and cute of me, huh?” “Very smart and cute of you, Miles.” - he also loves to have his hand on top of yours whenever he can - he’ll do it in class - if y’all go out to eat - if he’s sketching and you’re next to him - and holding hands in public is a favorite of his - it’s very tiny things that he does because every time he tries something big something goes wrong - like opening a door for you and motioning you to go in before him - and always being ready to steady you if you would trip (which happens more than he thought it would) - and always fixing your necklace that he bought you for your birthday (with the help of Rio) when the little clasp comes down in the front - he’s constantly staring at you with a dopey grin on his face - literally will get called out in class because he’s just 👁👄👁 - and then he gets all flustered - but the smile you get on your face letting him know you like him that much will relax him - will go from “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to draw attention to you!” to “yeah, you like that? imma do it more then.” - he’ll also pretend to drum on you with his pencils when you’re near him - especially if he has his headphones in - he likes to play this game where you guess which one of his songs he’s jamming out to - sometimes he says you got it right when you get it wrong just to see you get excited - and he doesn’t necessarily mean for this to be a public display of affection, - but his constant drawing of you is frequently watched by other classmates - the only person who has successfully seen his bold moves of affection is Ganke, and he pretends to gag every time lol

general affection

- he’s such an affectionate boy 🥹 - like i said, Ganke is the only one who successfully sees his physical affection plots work - he’s much smoother when people aren’t around - and yes, he has shown you the shoulder touch - you did it to him once and he short-circuited - i’m so serious he accidentally shocked you - but then he hugged and kissed you for like 40 minutes afterward cause he felt bad - so it wasn’t too bad of an experience - but when it comes to physical affection in private, he’s worlds better at it - any time he plays video games, whether that be with you or Ganke, he has his leg over top of yours - He loves watching movies with you where you lay your head on his lap and he just mindlessly draws little shapes on your shoulder - he also loves having you laying on top of him while y’all cuddle - it makes him feel safe (and he gets to steal soooo many kisses from you) - you’re kinda like his very own weighted blanket but not even because his spider strength makes you feel like a feather - but it’s also an easy way for him to keep a hold of you and feel like he’s protecting you - he also loves to take you web swinging - holding you super close and taking you to a tall building away from anyone who can see y’all - he loves that - sometimes he’ll have like a whole picnic type date set up and y’all will just have a cute lil date on the top of the one world trade center - he also loves having you over to his place - his parents love you - and you love them - they make him keep his door cracked when y’all are in there together but it’s mainly because they love to peek in and see their son so in love - Jefferson took like 74 pictures the first time he saw y’all napping together - And Rio took like 52 pictures when she caught the two of you on the roof of the building and he was playing you a playlist he made for you - he does that a lot but that was the first time Rio saw it - she was ecstatic lol - he occasionally will just poke you for no reason - and by occasionally i mean he does it constantly - “Miles? Why did you do that?” “Do what?” “I literally saw you poke me.” “No, I didn’t” “…” “…” “I did, you’re just so cute, I don’t know.” - he also loves drawing on your hand - the back of your hand has constant Miles doodles - sometimes it’s stuff like the two of your initals in a heart - sometimes it’s Spider-Man - sometimes it’s just whatever was on his mind - but you love your constant Miles hand drawings - and he feels like it’s some sort of way for other people to know you’re his - but when he does it it’s so cute - cause he’s so gentle - and no one is watching - but you’re sitting there and just smiling as he creates a work of art on your hand and the playlist he made full of songs that remind him of how you made him feel the first time he saw you is softly playing in the background - he calls them temporary tattoos and one day you’re going to actually get one of the doodles tattooed on you somewhere - he’ll probably have a heart attack from how much he loves it but hey that’s fine he’ll recover - speaking of he loves to draw with you - he doesn’t care about your skill level, he just loves to be creative with you - he also is very much all about making sure you’re eating - getting enough sleep - prioritizing yourself above everything else - and if anything is ever bothering you - he is There - he will always be there and it’s very comforting - he just wants you to be happy all the time and does his best to do so - and you feel the same - so any time the responsibility of Spider-Man is too much for him - or when his parents get on him because he’s hiding half of who he is - you’re there for him - often times after he comes home from a long day of Spider-Manning he’s the one who is being held, but you’re fine with that - cause he can be vulnerable with you and he needs it

overall

- Miles is getting the hang of being in a relationship - he really does love pda but is so bad at it lmao - when he gets better beware - you will be a melting mess in public all the time - but for right now it’s just behind the scenes where he’s able to show how he really feels - give him all the hugs he needs ‘em

#hobie brown hcs #hobie brown headcanons #hobie headcanons #hobie brown x reader #miles morales hcs #miles morales headcanons #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderverse headcanon #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #hobie brown #miles morales

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kithtaehyung · 2 months

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bet wrong (3tan717) | myg

drabble: bet wrong pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 | one rating/genre: pg (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after seeing how comfortable yoongi is in his place with your brother and their friends, it’s hard for you to leave… but it’s also hard for you to stay. note: apologies for all the late postings! but kim yeji’s aura was so strong it made me write about her so here we are hahaha. it's not really edited cus i just wrote this up and posted so apologies for any mistakes! note 2: this is in a pocket universe in the three tangerines series, so if you haven’t read the series yet, these characters would make more sense if you did hehe. even though this is very heavily influenced by the olympics, i’m keeping it as easy to read as i can. you can imagine them watching any of the events happening lol warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, angst, olympics talk, yoongi fights back??, the Yearning is Strong, reader is a tease, shiv is back!, brother and jimin are dorks, but so is everyone else, yoongi on the phone, he's so down bad y'all i wanna cry :(( drop date: august 1st, 2024, 7:17pm est word count: 2.3k (just like the first drabble omg?)

—

“Hey, you made it!”

“Oh, shit, look who’s here!”

After a quick greeting to everyone in Yoongi’s living room, you slip off your shoes with a distracted, “I can’t stay long but, I’m here!”

Even though the handsome devil next to you shoots a look, it’s your brother that speaks up, “Wait, why?”

“I’m meeting my friends in a bit.” You hand a still-quiet Yoongi some snacks you brought for everyone, asking a question with a very obvious answer, “Where should I put these?”

He blinks before forcing out, “Over here.”

“K.”

Sounds of conversation and sports games spring about. Jimin’s clearly in some sort of squabble with your brother and Shiv is fanning the flames. There’s a couple guys you recognize but don’t really know talking on the opposite side of the coffee table, but they’re all watching the Olympics and giving their own comments.

Hopefully it’s noisy enough to shroud your dizzying thoughts. Because Yoongi looks damn good in his casual fit and his hair speaks volumes.

What you would give to run your fingers through those waves. Following him through his bustling apartment is already giving you the shivers, so what would a sudden touch feel like? A burst of fire?

“I’ll take those,” he instructs, taking the bags from you and pulling everything out with crinkles. When he sees a certain bag, his blinks make you giggle.

It’s a specific chip he likes, recently divulged during a long night of learning things about one another—like favorite foods, and how fast or slow he likes you riding.

So of course you threw it in your basket before heading over.

Commentators make conversation on the television as you shrug, “Don’t ask me, I dunno how those got in there.”

God, that smile always makes you melt. And he proceeds to turn you into mush as he shows gratitude under his breath,

“Thanks, doll.”

“Seriously, I think they just handed me those,” you joke, trying your best to not do any of the million and three things you want to. “Said I was cute or something.”

His laugh is immediate. But it’s shoved away by cheers and yells, and both of you pop out of the kitchen to see what happened on the tv.

Something big must have went down because even Yoongi reacts, scaring you with a delayed reaction,

“Holy shit, what happened? Sorry,” he immediately apologizes at your flinch, putting a daring but comforting hand on your lower back before making his way to the group.

Did he really just…

He is lucky your brother didn’t see from the other side of the couch.

That was the boldest Yoongi’s ever been and he’s quite literally kissed you in your kitchen.

“Yeji got silver.”

“What? Wait, run it back!”

“I thought she'd take it!"

Chill out. Relax, relax, relax. Everyone else is clearly entranced by whatever happened and no one is even looking at you. Relax.

But damn, that touch meant a lot more than an apology.

Seems like the one vocally surprised at the replay wants to do a million and three things, too.

On your emotional decrescendo, you scuttle back to grab a plastic cup. No use in trying to join them anyway. All you can do for now is get a drink in a kitchen you’re not supposed to know your way around.

Being in his place while your brother is too is quite the experience.

However.

This is absolutely the ideal situation you should be in. You would be the one showing up at Yoongi’s at the invitation of your brother, and it would be a small party where you blend right into the background with minimal interaction.

But of course, the feelings of distance and guilt creep onto your feet, rooting you in place and forcing you to watch from afar.

They’re all checking their phones and pointing at each other—accusingly? Excitedly?—before switching between different games on the tv and yelling at each other.

And while you adore them for being such lovable geeks about this, your eyes cannot stop pinning Yoongi with longing. He’s so radiant doing the most normal things, and his eyes have that sparkle they get when he’s comfortable and at home.

He’s perfect.

Your heart’s warm.

And the cup in your hand never touches your mouth.

—

After you take a seat at his dining table—yet another thing you should not know anything about—you cycle between watching them interact and scrolling on your apps.

At first, you thought you were safe. Staying in the back and letting them have their own time together is good enough for you, especially since you were invited by your brother to stop by.

Really, you were just a courier for food they wanted.

But it was on the way. And it’s a chance to see someone you’ve been missing.

So of course you faked reluctance to come.

The plan was to do exactly this. Hang back until you had to leave, maybe have a bite or two, and try hard not to yearn for Yoongi too long.

Failed step three.

But also now step one, because Shiv decides to twist around to yell, “Hey! Come join us!”

“I’m good over here,” you reply, smiling when he gives you a look.

“Suit yourself!”

One of the guys you recognize but don’t really know gets off the couch to head into the kitchen, asking a question as he opens the fridge.

Wait, he’s asking you something? You?

You leave your chair so you can hear him better, and when he repeats his question you respond.

“Want a drink?”

“Oh, uhh. Sure.”

“Pick your poison. Yoongi doesn’t have much but it’s all strong.”

He’s pretty cute. But then again, all your brother’s friends seem to end up this way. “Water’s fine,” you say with a light smile. “I have to be somewhere else in a minute.”

“Leaving so soon?” He grabs a cup to fill with your choice before handing it over. Leaning against the same counter Yoongi has smushed you against many times, the man takes a sip of his beer. “You just got here.”

“I was told to bring food.”

“Ah, come on. You can stay a bit.”

Uh huh.

Bold choice to be flirting with the company present today.

But you know what to do. Swerve. “What even happened back there? You guys scared the shit outta me.”

From the creases of his eyes, your plan works. “Oh, Yeji? She was supposed to win gold.”

“Feel like she won anyway.”

You both snap your heads over to the kitchen threshold, and your stomach could win a floor routine with the amount of flips it completes. “How come?” You decide to ask, throwing both guys for a loop.

It’s Yoongi that responds first, “She’s trending from a video back in May.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Fucking boss. But yeah, none of us got that one right,” his friend responds, which leaves you intrigued.

“Got it right?”

“Mmhmm. We picked her for gold.” Glancing over at Yoongi now crossing between to get to his fridge, he claps his back. “Even this guy bet wrong and he’s usually right.”

“Bet with my heart,” your secret drones as he cracks open a bottle.

“We all did, bro.”

Fucking hell, that move was hotter than it should’ve been.

But now you’re kinda invested in what they’re all doing, so you ask how the whole thing works.

Which leads you to sitting in the living room with everyone three whole minutes later.

“So all of these are events, and I pick what I think happens?”

“Yup!”

“Good luck.”

“Choose quick, the next games start soon.”

Everyone’s eyes are on your paper as you look at the options, with some laughs and comments as you circle your choices.

“Mm, I dunno about that one.”

“Hey, hey, no help.”

You glance at your brother and Yoongi before laughing, “I have no idea what I’m doing but this is fun.”

Their amusement is noticeable.

“If you get any of those right, I’ll be surprised,” your sibling teases, earning a laugh from Yoongi and a counterpoint from Jimin,

“Dark horse?”

“Nah, no chance.”

Park’s shoulders raise as he smirks. “It's all luck, you never know..”

Huffing, you pretend to have confidence for days, just happy that you get to be involved and not hang back like the initial plan. “Yeah, I have masterclass intuition, don’t you know?”

Reactions pop and fizz around you.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Master class, huh..”

“We have a hustler here!”

Your eyes drift to Yoongi’s at Shiv's comment, and you both share a quick, mirth-filled, intimate stare.

This really is a lot more fun already.

Your phone buzzing is the one thing that interrupts, and you immediately feel relieved and saddened by the fact that you have to go.

Finishing up, you hand your brother your picks before standing, heading to the door and saying that you have to leave.

“Wait, already?”

“Tell them you’re busy!”

“I kinda want to,” you admit, feeling a little shy at all the eyes on you. “But we’re watching a movie and tickets are stupid expensive now.”

Yoongi’s already next to you as he waits to let you out. “You okay to drive?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I just had water.”

“K.”

Why does he have to be so considerate right now? Now you just wanna stay here instead of sit through whatever movie your friends picked!

“Be careful,” your brother comments from the living room, and you wave goodbye.

“I will. Y’all have fun!”

“Okay!”

Facing Yoongi, you wanna do so many things. Hug him, hold him, kiss the shit out of him for his exuding presence in the kitchen earlier.

“Thanks for the food.”

But you obviously can’t.

So you settle for giving him a smile. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you decide to say. “Have fun tonight.”

You get a small lift of his lips in return. “You, too.”

“Yeah.. I’ll try.”

Hearing sounds from outside as you walk to your car, you feel the loneliest imaginable.

But alas.

It’s still not your place to stay.

—

Much, much later, you check your phone after the movie ends and you’re all walking out. While the girls are busy discussing the movie and Taehyung's checking his phone, you're greeted with two very surprising keystrokes.

Yoongi [9:30pm]: :(

He texted that so long ago. Did something happen?

You [10:34pm]: you ok?

All of you talk for just a little longer. When you finally get into your car, you wave goodbye at everyone before looking at your device again, wondering what the heck warranted this rogue of a text.

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [10:40pm]: Just miss you

Well, fuck.

Heart clenching, your fingers skirt across the screen.

You [10:45pm]: i miss you too.. i didn’t wanna leave😭

Yoongi [10:45pm]: You did though😔

There are plenty of people in the lot. Many people walking past as you wait in your car.

And all you can do is stare at your screen.

Is… Is he drunk?

Yoongi [10:46pm]: So now you have to make it up to me :)

That catches you so off-guard you scoff at your screen through a smile.

You [10:46pm]: don’t be a loser!!

Yoongi [10:46pm]: I’m your loser

Cheeks hurting from your shy as hell grin, you bite your lip to keep your screams from alerting people in the nearby theatre.

How dare this man be this bold when your brother is over there!

If he’s gonna keep this shocking behavior up, who are you to not play into it? You fucking miss him and imagining being there and being yourselves—your true selves—makes your chest clench.

You [10:46pm]: not today you weren’t :\

And now you have to make the drive to a house that no one's occupying.

This is so hard. So, so hard.

But you have to keep going until that one day comes. If it ever does. The day you can do whatever you want with the man you’d fight the universe for? No one will know how to react, and frankly you don’t give a shit about that.

And then you wonder.

Does Yoongi feel the same?

Yoongi [10:48pm]: They're still here

Yoongi [10:48pm]: You down to come back?

Oh.

You are.

Yes, yes, yes you are.

Grateful eyes shut, forehead hitting your steering wheel and heart hurting but still burning lovingly.

There’s no fighting how desperately you want to see him. Especially after seeing him so happy earlier today. Of course you’re going to go. You’d cross mountains even if that meant you’d only get to see him from afar.

Because—and this you know for sure—he would do the same.

...But that doesn't mean you won't prank him just a little bit.

You [10:49pm]: don't bet on it w ur heart again💕

Buzzing with excitement, you start your car and pull out of the lot, calling your brother and letting him know you’re coming back.

“K! You gonna bring food again?”

Normally, you would say fuck no and hang up. But you’re so elated you get to go back, and imagining Yoongi's shock makes you laugh. “Yeah, yeah, what do y’all want?”

“Wait, really? Hey! What do we want for dinner—”

“Wait!” You interject, something pinging into your mind and igniting your curiosity. “How are my picks doing?”

There’s a scuffle on the line, and you can hear your brother complain, Jimin laugh, and a very, very familiar voice answer from your brother’s phone.

Because Yoongi’s voice drones so beautifully through the speaker, and you can’t stop your cackling when he responds,

“Turns out Jimin was right.”

“Damn, I'm the best,” you boast, earning a loud laugh from him and welcoming the way your cheeks hurt with open arms. “Show me that video you were talking about when I get there?”

This is safe to say. It's all you really can say.

There's a little bit of silence before he answers how he can, too.

“Yeah, I will.”

Mm. Maybe Yoongi does feel the same.

“Nice," you whisper. Lips curved up in hope, you keep your voice neutral, “See you soon!”

Again, he responds how he's supposed to. And right after, you both hang up exactly as expected.

For now.

“See you soon.”

—

fin. :)

how did the second 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe | three tangerines

a/n: love you love you love you. that's really all i can say. but also, here's the video of kim yeji being an absolute badass in may and i cannot stop thinking about her GAHHHHHH and now the guy from turkey?? hello?? this year is so fun and interesting istg!!

#well hello LMAO #bts fic #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #three tangerines #3tan7172 #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fluff #*latest #ryenwrites #3tanextras #yoongi angst

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dollyyun · 5 months

Text

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑.𝟐

SYNOPSIS: For some reason, Park Sunghoon utterly despises you ─ how you are the literal definition of a good girl who avoids all sorts of troubles, how you remain loyal and abide by the rules, how you dress modestly, the fact that you're best friends with the popular girls who are his kind of girls, the way your eyes sparkle with fascination, and the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile or laugh ─ you are every bit of a girl he has no desire to fuck. However, being naturally competitive even against his best friends, he is determined to be the one to break you, poison you with his corruptive ways, and change you for the worse.

PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 26.5k+

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, mention of substances abuse, mild bullying, assault, humiliation, profanities, manipulation, possible violence, tsundere!hoon, smut.

PLAYLIST: Six Feet Under - The Weeknd, Heartless - The Weeknd, Reminder - The Weeknd, Lost in the Fire - The Weeknd, get him back! - Olivia Rodrigo, think later - Tate Mcrae, Swim - Chase Atlantic, Devillish - Chase Atlantic, Soaked - Shy Smith, Swimming Pools - Lloyd, Where Them Girls At - David Guetta ft Nicki Minaj, Agora Hills - Doja Cat.

PREV (PART 3.1) | NEXT (PART 4) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

✧*̥˚ SUNGHOON'S MOODBOARD *̥˚✧

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), pool sex, shower sex, rough-hate sex, meandom!hoon, slight voyeurism, degradation, name calling (slut, bitch, princess), cock-warming, oral, blowjob, handjob, lots of manhandling, hair pulling, choking, 'sir' kink, spitting kink, spanking, markings(hoon has a biting kink), corruption kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, crying, just pure filth, threesome with jakehoon.

Karina offered you a ride with her Range Rover vehicle, along with Winter, Kazuha, and Rei, which you gladly accepted since you would be more comfortable being in the same space as the ones you trusted enough to know about the exact truth of what happened.

The journey to the resort chalet took about an hour and a half since the entirety of the resort world is located on the outskirts of the town, which is also nearby the seaside. Thankfully, the ride wasn’t as dull as you thought it would be. The jovial ambience was infused by laughter, chatter, and even carpool karaoke.

Warmth spreads across your chest while the smile persists on your radiant face. You can’t remember the last time you ever had fun like this, or maybe you haven’t.

“We’re here!” Rei announces gleefully in the backseat whereas you are the passenger princess.

You divert your attention to the window, and you are awestruck by the mere yet remarkable sight of the resort’s entrance as Karina continues to accelerate forward to find the parking lot.

The commotion in the backseat fades out as you decide to bask in silence in an attempt to recharge your social battery to the fullest. Your phone vibrates in your hand, prompting you to glance down to check the newest notification from a certain someone that has you rolling your eyes at.

SUNGHOON: Where are you?

Even through his text, you can discern how demanding he is, eliciting an inaudible sigh from you.

Y/N: Just arrived. Karina is still searching for the parking lot. SUNGHOON: Tell her ass to drive fast Y/N: The more reason I should tell her to take her sweet time. SUNGHOON: You think you’re being cute, don’t you, princess? Just wait until you get here Y/N: On second thought, I’m going to stick around with my friends so you won’t get to me. SUNGHOON: You know you’re not being cute right now Y/N: You’re so annoying. I didn’t claim to be cute. SUNGHOON: Lose the attitude, princess Y/N: And what are you going to do about it if I don’t? SUNGHOON: I’ll fuck the attitude out of you, so don’t test me. Y/N: Whatever. You’re all talk but no action.

You stare at your screen, waiting for his reply, but to your surprise, he doesn’t, bringing a frown to your lips.

Speaking of Sunghoon, you surprisingly managed to hide it with a concealer, thanks to Karina, who freaked out at first but soon came to your rescue. Thankfully, Karina didn’t push you into the details after you briefly explained that you were caught up in the spur of the moment with him.

A part of you feels guilty for not telling her the whole truth, but you don’t want to worry her more than she already is. You have been made well aware by Karina that she doesn’t want to baby you anymore, but her word of advice is for you to be careful.

Just as you have finally arrived at the parking lot, your mind quickly drifts to the conversation you had with Karina in your dorm.

“Since we’re on the topic of Park Sunghoon, you should know that he can be a beast in bed.” Karina’s statement throws you off guard just as you are about to make your way to her bathroom to change into the cute white floral dress. “I heard some things from the girls he slept with in the past. Kind of scared me, not gonna lie.”

You really don’t want to know any details entailing Sunghoon’s lifestyle pertaining to sex, but curiosity is gnawing at you. “Why did it scare you?” You ask tentatively.

“Well, for starters, he’s downright mean, and he’s rough, as in, really rough to the point where he can make you cry real bad, like full on sobbing.” Karina rolls her eyes before resuming to apply the lip gloss to her lips in the vanity mirror. “According to those girls, he lacked basic decency and didn’t bother to provide some aftercare after the mind-blowing sex.”

“Oh….” Is all you can afford to utter. It’s not as if you are looking forward to sleeping with him anytime soon, right? Right…???

Karina continues, almost as if she is expressing her disapproval in the way she speaks, “Just like the other leaders, he has some questionable kinks. Oh! And he’s nasty. Sex with him is painful, but it is the kind of pain you’ll grow to crave, and to me personally, it’s not my type of sex─”

“Okay, okay, I really didn’t need to know all the details!” You cut her off in a ramble, your cheeks flushing pink while something stirs in your core.

“I’m just being a good friend to give you some heads up if you do have plans to sleep with him.” Karina states bluntly before pausing, followed by a loud gasp as she turns around to look at you with a grin, and the expression on her face is as though she has formulated a diabolical plan. “I have a brilliant idea! Why don’t you use Sunghoon for your revenge?”

“Are you crazy?” You give her a bewildered stare. “Have you forgotten that Sunghoon is best friends with Jaeyun?”

“For that very reason, my girl, is exactly why you should use Sunghoon!” Karina beams. “Think about it. If you use any other guys, Jake probably wouldn’t be entirely deterred, but if he sees you with Sunghoon or his other best friends, trust me when I say that your revenge will definitely affect him greatly.”

You begin to contemplate, humming. “You do have a point, but why are you oddly happy about this?” You ask, giving her an odd stare.

“Duhh, it’s because I hate all of the knights. They are all different, but still the same kind of crazy. Plus, I dated one, so I know what it's like.” Karina scoffs lightly. “So you using Sunghoon for your sweet revenge is a stepping stone to breaking the friendship bond between them.”

“It’s kind of risky. I mean, what if Sunghoon gets the hint that I’m using him solely to make Jaeyun jealous? Surely, Sunghoon won’t hesitate to inform Jaeyun of my petty revenge, and subsequently, I’ll be made fun of.” You murmur.

“It won’t hurt to try. Plus, with your angelic face, I doubt that Sunghoon would suspect anything unless you gave away the hint.”

Karina’s suggestion does sound enticing, and you are considering it at this very moment as you finally step foot into the chalet zone with your friends flanking you.

The sky is now painted in a beautiful purple-blue hue, as the sun is making its descent. As you and your friends venture further, your eyes sparkle with wonderment. The ambience throughout the long array of chalets is teeming vibrantly with buoyancy that is accompanied by distinct chatter, hilarity, and blasting upbeat music that reverberates nearly throughout the resort.

“Welcome, ladies!” Yeonjun’s amiable greeting draws your attention to him. He is clad in a beach-fit consisting of a pair of shorts and a loose polo shirt that displays the tattoos inked on his chest.

“Great party, Choi!” Kazuha commends him, smiling at him.

You can see it in his eyes that Kazuha’s mere compliment elevates his pride. Yeonjun grins lazily. “If you think this is great, wait till y’all join the others by the pool.” His eyes trail to your face, and you see a flicker of surprise in his gaze. “Y/N! Not that you’re not welcomed here since you’re a senior as well, but I definitely didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeonjun.” You greet him politely with a small smile despite your distaste for him after knowing the reason behind Yunjin’s constant heartbreak because of him.

Yeonjun shoots you a friendly wink. “Hope you’ll enjoy what we have to offer. Oh, and if any of you ladies want to stay for a night or two, you are very welcome to do so! It’s all on the house!”

“Thanks, Yeonjun! You’re the best!” Rei chimes with a grin before Yeonjun gets distracted by the calling of his best friends from afar and drifts away from you.

“It’s a pity that he’s the same jerk as the other knights.” Karina mutters under her breath to you. “He’s one of the few who throws an amazing party.”

You hum in return, a little preoccupied with your eyes searching for a certain someone clad in leather over the sea of students in your line of sight. They are scattered everywhere. You admit that you are flabbergasted by the excessive skin revealed by most, as the ladies are in bikinis while the guys are in swim trunks.

But since this is a pool party, no one seems to be bothered by it, so you know for yourself that you need to grow accustomed to it.

“Food! We need food!” Rei and Kazuha exclaim before they dash off together hand-in-hand, leaving the three of you behind.

“Girl! You need to come with me! I got the details.” Giselle appears out of nowhere, her statement is directed at Winter as she holds her arm. Giselle looks at you briefly in shock before greeting you with a wink and proceeding to drag Winter with her.

“I’m gonna stick to you.” You loop your arm around Karina’s. The latter merely chuckles before both of you proceed to venture further.

As you follow Karina without uttering a word as she is busily greeting the students she recognises, you feel a pair of heated eyes drilling into your figure. At first, you shake away the feeling and tell yourself in your head that you’re probably just imagining things since you feel a tad paranoid about bumping into Jake or even Sunghoon.

But the longer you ignore it, the more you feel unsettled. It is as though somewhere, an unknown predator is watching you keenly and waiting for the right moment to pounce.

By now, your arm around Karina’s loosens while she is conversing with her friend, before you unlock your arm off of hers. With a frown tugging at your lips, your eyes begin to scan your surroundings, and when you do, you spot a familiar figure clad in denims whose face is staring at you, causing your heart to pound harder against your chest.

There is Jake, being surrounded by his fellow knights. He maintains eye contact with you, and even if he’s far from where you’re at, you can feel the electricity between the two of you. You notice the way his eyes rake all over your figure while he raises the red cup to his smirking lips before drinking the content.

You look away from him, unable to maintain eye contact with him any longer, or else you’ll burst. Warmth weaves across your cheeks as it turns pink. You hate how he never fails to look attractive, but the heartbreak from him remains fresh in your mind.

A profound sentiment fuels your determination to execute your sweet revenge against Jake, and so you begin your search for a specific person as you clutch the strap of your tote bag that bears necessity and extra undergarments.

Navigating your way through the crowd, you look down at your phone screen and send him a text.

Y/N: I’m here. Where are you? SUNGHOON: Turn around, princess.

You halt your steps, and that is when you finally feel a presence looming from behind you. As you slowly turn around, your eyes meet his steely ones. A cold smile touches his lips, giving you the bad chills.

You have an inkling that he may or may not have been pissed off by your texts earlier. You swallow down a bundle of nerves. “Sunghoon─”

Without a word, Sunghoon latches his hand around your wrist before pulling you with him, further from the main scene, where he guides you into one of the chalets. With the door slamming shut loudly behind you, you flinch as you stare at the back of his head, to which you can’t help but admire the butterfly tattoo inked on his nape.

As you walk past one of the rooms, you manage to catch a glimpse of Heeseung inside, who is quick enough to make eye contact with you that the intensity of his gaze alone is enough to steal your breath. You don’t miss the way his eyebrow arches inquisitively upon seeing you getting dragged by Sunghoon.

By the time Sunghoon brings you into one of the rooms, you have no idea whether your heart is beating fast out of fear or excitement, awaiting what is next.

“Are you mad at me?” You break the ice as soon as he releases your wrist. Getting annoyed by the weight of your tote bag, you decide to place it on the table behind you.

Sunghoon turns around, allowing you to discern the emotions exuding from him. “Am I mad? I don’t know, princess. Do I look like I’m mad?” He asks with a sardonic smile.

His eyes rake all over you, and he swears he can feel his dick twitching under these layers of clothing. You look gorgeous yet at the same time cute, all dolled up in a white floral print dress that reaches way above your plush thighs. You are still wearing the satin piece that you tied your hair with into a delicate bow, but this time, he finds it endearing instead.

A newfound wave of possessiveness washes over him like a tidal wave as he clenches his jaw at the thought of other guys feasting their eyes on you.

“Um…maybe?” You answer meekly as you shuffle your feet uncomfortably, feeling conscious of the smouldering intensity of his gaze on your body.

Sunghoon scoffs out a chuckle. “You know, princess, you’re different compared to when you texted me. You’re feisty through texts, but now?” He cocks his head to one side. The mockery is glaring on his face while a small smirk touches his lips. “You look pathetically weak.”

You frown at the insult. “That’s not very nice, considering that I did end up searching for you after my arrival.”

“If you haven’t already known, I don’t do nice.” Sunghoon says coldly before he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his legs outstretched and spread leisurely. His head is tilted while his gaze on you remains invasive, as though he is undressing you.

His tongue peeks from his mouth as he licks his lips. “Get down on your knees, princess.”

His husky, erotic voice nearly knocks the breath out of you while your eyes widen in disbelief at his command. “W-Why?” Your voice shakes, mirroring your inner turmoil.

“I said get down on your fucking knees.”

Not wanting to piss him off more than he already looks, you do as you were told, slowly getting down on your knees. The cold, marbled flooring in contact with your knees sends shivers through your body.

Sunghoon displays his contentment, smirking down at you while the familiar cruelty in his dark gaze causes your inner turmoil to tenfold. “Now, crawl to me.”

This time, your eyes widen like sockets, refusing to believe the words left in his mouth. “What?” You remain unmoving as every fibre in your body goes frozen.

“Crawl to me.” He commands calmly this time, but you are no fool to interpret that his calmness doesn’t mirror the explicable storms in his hauntingly beautiful eyes.

Out of fear for him, you suppress your dignity, placing both of your palms on the cold, marbled floor. You lower your gaze as you advance forward rather slowly while you bite down your bottom lip to refrain from leaking the tears at the corner of your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you crawl to me.” His stern voice elicits a silent whimper from you before you reluctantly raise your head to meet his callous gaze.

The utter humiliation colours your cheeks as you continue to crawl to him while his cold smirk remains on his countenance, blatantly displaying his satisfaction in seeing you being so pathetic yet compliant.

His gaze lowers to your chest, where he can catch a glimpse of the plumpness of your breasts, which are supported by your bikini top. You notice that, and it only brings more humiliation to you.

Once you reach directly in front of him, he leans forward to grab your chin firmly and tilt your head up. “Can you recall what you texted me earlier? Something about me being all talk but no action?" His smirk widens upon seeing the panic in your eyes. “Don’t worry, princess. I won’t be fucking you, but rather, I’m gonna teach you lesson one, and by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be an expert.”

“Lesson one?” You mumble, frowning in confusion, yet at the same time, you feel a strange anticipation.

“Lesson one: How to suck a dick. Gotta get you to become the perfect cockslut just for me.” His chuckles sound degrading, and instead of hating it, you find yourself getting oddly excited by his degradation. “Have you ever sucked a dick?”

“N-No.” You become flustered by the usage of his dirty talking, yet your core is stirring with the familiar arousal.

“Of course, you haven’t. You’re a fucking saint.” He says in utter disgust, releasing your chin roughly, but you remain in eye contact with him, as though you are hypnotised. “Unzip my pants.”

And you do, but you are rather flimsy with your hands, eliciting another chuckle from him as he finds you surprisingly adorable, especially the glinting anticipation in your eyes. Once you finally unfasten his pants, you proceed to pull them down, where your eyes widen at how conspicuous the outline of his cock beneath the material of the briefs is, and you can discern how hard he actually is.

“Go on. Pull it down.” He says, slightly breathless with keen anticipation at the thought of being the first guy to be sucked and deepthroated by the renowned Crescents’ good girl.

With trembling hands, you begin to pull down his black briefs, and at once, you are met by the sight of his cock. You can’t help but marvel at how thick he is, even thicker than Jake’s, and you fear you can’t handle him.

“Grab it.” He instructs, and with hesitation, you grab his length, which feels warm beneath your touch. “Now pump it.”

Despite your low confidence, you begin pumping his length while your eyes are fixated on his engorging, nearly red tip. Your mouth goes watery as your mind begins to fantasise about taking and swallowing him whole.

“Don’t bother being gentle.” He says, his chest heaving as he refrains himself from going out all hard on you, knowing that you won’t be able to handle him as a whole. “Use your thumb to rub the tip as well.”

While still pumping him, you use the other hand to rub his tip, and when your thumb makes a tentative rub, a low yet attractive groan emits from him, which fuels your determination to get him to cum as you resume your administration.

The softness of your hands on his dick feels so innocent, while he finds your visible determination adorable. He begins to grow addicted to your touch, wanting more than just your hands.

“Kiss the tip, princess.”

You look at him as he gives you an encouraging nod before you lean forward to kiss the tip. Once your soft lips come into contact with his tip, he clenches his jaw, feeling good just from your kiss. A shiver runs down your spine as you kiss his warm yet sticky tip that has been gradually leaking with his precum.

“Lick it.”

Like a good student heeding her professor’s instruction, you stick out your tongue before licking the tip, and when you do, you nearly moan out at how sensational he feels on your tongue. The precum from his tip doesn’t even deter you from licking him again.

“Now put my dick into your mouth.” He instructs huskily, his voice laden with lust. The palpable tension in the room has your pulse going erratic.

You halt your administration, and yearning to please him, you grab his length again to aim it at your parted mouth. Sunghoon groans lowly just by the mere sensation of your tongue and the roof of your mouth enveloping the head.

��Take my dick deeper.” He tells you, prompting you to take him deeper slowly while you struggle with the girth of his cock. You stop to take a short breather, but Sunghoon raises his eyebrow at you. “Go on. I don’t want to see you stop until you take me deeper into your throat.”

A whimper is stuck in your throat, but nonetheless, you resume. Sunghoon sighs as his patience is running thin at how slow you are. Without any leniency, he leans forward to grab a fist of your hair and pulls you towards him, causing your eyes to widen at the abrupt roughness as he gags you.

You make a choking noise as the head is now hitting the back of your throat. Your hands latch on his thighs, clawing at him as you struggle to take his length.

“Stop panicking. You’ll only make it worse.” He grumbles, still gripping your hair. “Slack your jaw, princess.”

Trying to regulate your uneven breathing and emotions, you proceed to slack your jaw, now accommodating his girth without much struggle.

“Now bob your head and deepthroat me.” A smirk touches his lips as he releases your hair.

Despite your jaw already aching from the weight of his cock in your mouth, you do as he told you to, bobbing your head with the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat every so often, which has you making a choking noise.

Tears prickle in your eyes as you continue to take him deeper while his callous eyes gleam with cruel fascination, admiring how pathetically helpless you look in taking his thick cock yet so beautifully kneeling in front of him.

“I don’t want to see you stop until I cum in your throat, understood?” His stern voice has you nodding your head frantically and gagging once more, and you swear you can feel your throat bulging.

Sunghoon throws his head to the back at how sensational your mouth and throat feel, moaning deeply, which evokes familiar arousal from you and also elevates your confidence.

Sunghoon returns his hungry gaze to your face once more, his tongue grazing across his bottom lip while the tip of his lips turns into a smirk. “That’s it. You’re doing so good, my perfect little cockslut.” He croons to you, his fingers brushing your tear-stained cheek.

The moan from your throat sends vibrations to his cock, amplifying the pleasure before his impending orgasm comes knocking on the door.

“I knew it. Beneath your pristine Catholic good girl facade is a hungry cockslut just like any other girl.” He says harshly while more tears stream down your cheeks. He grunts out a moan as he fucks into your mouth, causing you to gag again.

Your hands claw at his thighs, denoting that you need some respite, but he simply raises his eyebrow while mockery is painted all over his face. “Nah, I don’t think so. You’re not done until you swallow every drop of my cum.”

You manage to whimper through your stuffed mouth. With your jaw aching tremendously, that serves as motivation for you to draw out his orgasm quickly.

Sunghoon heaves a sigh of pleasure while a tinge of surprise spreads in his chest when your tongue swirls around the tip deliciously. He watches with ladened, lusty eyes as you get immersed in it. The sight is rather enthralling.

“Yeah? You love my cock, princess?” He rasps, leaning his body forward to caress the back of your head. You moan in response, sending another vibration through his cock, to which he swallows a moan. “I know you do. You always need to be mouth-stuffed with my cock, don’t you?”

All of his dirty talking goes straight to the heat of your cunt, eliciting another moan from the back of your throat. You are itching to attend to your neglected clit, but you know you need to focus solely on his pleasure.

The corner of your mouth is nearly drooling with your spit, while your aching jaw is begging for mercy and the crystalline tears are staining your cheeks. He bucks his hips once more, and this time, his hand grips a fist of your hair, forcing you deeper before he finally comes undone.

A guttural moan emitting from him rings through your ears as he holds you completely still, tugging the roots of your hair painfully while you gladly swallow every drop. Instead of being revolted, you find yourself getting addicted to the taste of his cum.

Once he releases your hair, you take this as a signal to remove his now-softened cock from your mouth, your lips glistening with your saliva while you regulate your erratic breathing.

Sunghoon releases a sigh of contentment, with his chest heaving up and down. He hates to admit it, but for someone with zero blowjob experience, you did amazing — better than he expected.

His dark eyes meet your dazed ones before casting you a charming smirk. “Good job, princess. You passed with flying colours.”

You don’t respond, as you remain speechless by what happened. The rational part of you is greatly disappointed in you for succumbing to the sin once more, but another part of you is brimming with satisfaction that you manage to impress the guy who hates you.

You blink your eyes after being pulled away from the state of dazed by the sound of shuffling, prompting you to look at Sunghoon in front of you as he zips up his pants. With an arched eyebrow at you, he pats his thigh, beckoning you to sit. “Come here, princess.”

You don’t want to, especially since you’re afraid that he might make a nasty remark about how weighty you are. But his dark eyes penetrate into yours so intensely that you find yourself complying.

Your movements are tentative, he can see it. Patience running thin and in dire need to feel your body on him, once you rise from the ground, he grabs your hand and tugs you towards him before turning you around and forcing you to sit with your bums hitting his thighs.

You hold your breath momentarily, waiting for him to make a snide remark. But what he does next throws you off guard. His palms are placed on top of your thighs, and the heat of his touch sends shivers through you while his chest is pressed against your back, allowing you to feel his heart pounding.

“Aren’t I heavy for you?” You ask shakily as your pulses drum violently in your ears. His body heat and his touch on your thighs are making your head dizzy.

“You’re lightweight, princess.” Sunghoon says in a murmur, his fingers stroking your thighs, enjoying how you feel on top of him.

“Liar.” You can’t help but scoff lightly.

“Like I said before, princess, I’m a man of my words.” Sunghoon drawls his words before he decides to cave into his temptation, brushing your hair to the side for him to get better access to your neck.

Your pretty, dainty neck is one of the things he has been fantasising about. He desires to leave more of his marks on your skin and to proudly display them for any guys who glance in your way, and his raging lust intensifies as he recalls how good your throat looked bulging when you deepthroated him earlier. He desires to use you as his cocksleeve.

His warm lips on your skin send the familiar sensation through your body as you gasp softly. “Why exactly are we in this room?” You manage to ask in between shaky breaths. Goosebumps arise on your skin as he drags the tip of his nose on the curve of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that he wants to bask in.

“Because I wanted us to be here,” He says in a lull. “And I want to have you all to myself before I let you go and have fun.”

“You’ll let me go?” The flicker of hope that is apparent in your tone sounds adorable to him, eliciting a breathy chuckle from him.

“Don’t be too happy now, princess. After you had your fun, you’re all mine for the taking.” He presses one last kiss on your neck before whispering, “Turn around for me.”

You do as he told, with his assistance as well, and your dress is hiked up way above by the time you face him. Your eyes settle on his face, admiring how beautifully sculpted every feature of his is and the beauty marks embellished on some parts of his face.

“Where is my mark?” Sunghoon frowns, shattering your trance. His fingers brush against your skin, where the concealed hickey is.

“Concealer.” You tell him shortly, shivering every once in a while as he continues to stroke your skin. “I didn’t want any of my friends to find out about it.”

Sunghoon kisses the back of his mouth, annoyed, but with your doe eyes staring at him, he resigns. “Fine, but I’m not letting your earlier attitude pass.”

“W-Wait! Sunghoon!” Panic settles in your chest as soon as he leans down to kiss your neck on the other side, afraid that he will leave marks. “I have something important to tell you!”

But your body betrays you as it succumbs to the pleasure he is giving you simply by kissing and nipping your neck. You arch your back while tilting your head to the perfect angle for him to administer his kisses comfortably on your skin.

Sunghoon hums attractively in response, but he doesn’t relent. “What is so important other than leaving another of my marks on you?”

“It’s about Jaeyun.”

Sunghoon ceases whatever he is doing. Oddly, the name of his best friend coming from your mouth evokes a newfound emotion in him, and he doesn’t like it.

“What about him?” He asks in a grunt, his arm around your waist tightening.

“He did something.” You start off, unsure if you’re going in the right direction.

Sunghoon scoffs out a chuckle. “And so I’ve been told.”

Your eyes widen as you stare at him, baffled. “So you knew about the whole thing?”

“Not exactly.” Sunghoon says, now intrigued by this, while his amorous thoughts about you remain lingering in his head. “He told me that he used some girl to make you jealous, but he didn’t go into details when I pressed on.”

Of course, Sunghoon is technically lying since he has already put the pieces together. From his understanding, Jake used Hana to make you jealous because Jake couldn’t handle the fact that Sunghoon and the other two would soon be coming after you. In simple words, Jake is bitter and jealous; at least that’s what Sunghoon thinks.

But Sunghoon still can’t comprehend why Jake chose such a method that is similar to when the latter ghosted them without any explanation.

“It was stupid. I was stupid.” You have no idea why, but instinctively, you lower your guards. By now, you are perched comfortably on his lap while your fingers are mindlessly drawing circles on his back, sending him unfamiliar shivers. “I thought I meant something to him. I thought he meant what he said about me being his girl.”

Naturally, you expect Sunghoon to offer you words of consolation, but instead, cold chuckles emit from him while the familiar cruelty gleams in his eyes. “Oh, princess, were you that desperate for attention and affection from Jake?”

Your eyes turn crestfallen with glistening tears, while your heart stings from his derogatory words. “I-I wasn’t─”

“Awww, princess’s a crybaby.” Sunghoon kisses the back of his mouth, his stroking fingers on your cheek feel sneering. “You’re so fucking pathetic, really, and dumb.”

“Why are you being so mean to me?” You ask weakly, your quivering lips jutting into a pout, which catches his attention, and he wants nothing more than to kiss and bite them.

“Because I like seeing you cry.” He admits with a sly grin smearing his lips as he gazes deeply into your eyes. “I like making you cry.”

“You’re─” You smack your lips shut together as hesitation pulls you away from saying things that might lead to consequences.

Sunghoon raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you while his grip on your waist tightens, and you can detect the danger just by his mere touch. “I’m what?” His tone denotes a warning.

You shake your head in refusal, subconsciously biting down your bottom lip at the dark intensity in his gaze. His eyes zero in on your pink, luscious lips that looked swollen earlier from the blowjob.

“Don’t do that.” His fingers grip your chin, his thumb moving to your bottom lip and slowly tugging it down, causing you to release from biting it. “Only I get to bite them.” He murmurs as his thumb brushes your moist lip sensually. “Come on. Tell me what you were about to say.”

Gazing into his dark eyes with lidded eyes, your breaths turn shallow while his thumb remains on your bottom lip. “You’re crazy.” You manage to utter, but your voice sounds foreignly thick, laden with lust as the palpable tension in the air becomes unbearable.

“Because I like making you cry?” His tone mirrors yours as he leans forward to close the gap between your bodies, enjoying the way your breasts are pressed against his chest.

“Yes.” You unintentionally pout again, and it seems as though you are whining your discontentment to him and sulking with the way you are now.

“Oh, princess,” He sighs leisurely, his thumb making its ascent to wipe the tears from your cheek. “How could I not make you cry? Especially when you look pretty like this.”

Your breath hitches in your throat while something fluttery brushes against your beating heart. “You think I’m pretty?”

The lazy smile on his lips with his fang-like teeth peeking is enough to bring butterflies into your tummy. “So, so pretty.”

“But I thought you hated me.” You mumble, ignoring the way your cheeks flare diffidently.

“I still do.”

“Well, I don’t like you either.” Your voice wavers, but the sudden realisation of what you intended to tell him dawns on you. “Listen, I know that you hate me, but I need your help.”

“My help? Pray tell, what─”

“I want to use you to get back Jaeyun.” You cut him off, surprising yourself with the firm resolution in your tone. Even Sunghoon seems to be so too. “I want to make him jealous as revenge.”

“You? And revenge?” The incredulity gleams in his eyes with a smirk tugging at his lips. “My, my. I never would have thought that the angel would act in retaliation for revenge.”

“Just for tonight.” You tell him, your voice softening with a plea. “Please?”

“Do you even realise who you are asking for help?” He smirks, the scintilla of danger in his eyes dancing delightfully. “I admire your audacity, princess.”

You huff out annoyedly. “If you don’t want to, then I’ll just find another guy to help me─”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I swear that guy won’t live to see the next sunrise.” He nearly growls out his warning, and just by his tone and his dark gaze, you know that he will do it.

It’s baffling to you because you swear you notice the visible jealousy in the expression on his face alone. But why would he be when he had declared his hatred for you?

“I’ll help you.” Sunghoon affirms, leaning down to your neck to place a sensual kiss on your pulse. “Just don’t find any other guy to make Jaeyun jealous.”

“Thank you.” You sigh in relief, but tenses slightly when you feel him smirking on your neck.

“Remember, princess, that you owe me back.”

“What do you want?” You ask, frowning as he pulls away from you to meet your curious eyes.

“I’ll tell you only after we manage to make Jake jealous.”

Just as you are about to speak, you hear a knock on the door, causing your body to go frigid, and you don’t even have time to move away from Sunghoon when the door swings open to reveal Heeseung.

Your widened eyes meet his indifferent ones at the side, and it confounds you when he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by you being perched in an intimate position on top of his best friend.

“The knights have been told to gather by the pool.” Heeseung tells Sunghoon in a monotone manner while maintaining eye contact with you.

A firm squeeze on your ass cheek shifts your attention from Heeseung to Sunghoon, and that is when embarrassment hits you at the fact that Heeseung’s gaze remains on the two of you. You notice that Sunghoon seems laid-back and still has that cold smirk on his lips before you instinctively bury your head into his chest in an attempt to hide your flustered face that feels warm.

“You can go ahead. I’ll be right there in a while.” Sunghoon tells him, with his hand remaining on your bum, to give it another squeeze.

You hear the door closing as well as Sunghoon’s hot breath fanning on your earlobe. “I’ll get going first, but as for your revenge, I guess we’ll have to wait until we’re in Jake’s line of sight.”

“I want to make him really jealous.” You murmur to him as your finger draws a circle on his clad-leathered shoulder.

Sunghoon chuckles lethally softly next to your ear. “Trust me, princess, once he sees us, he’ll be more than just jealous.”

“Come on, Y/N!” Karina’s voice can be heard from the outside, as does the knock on the door, while you remain petrified and rooted to the toilet tiles, your widened eyes staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah! I’m sure you look just as gorgeous as you normally are!” Winter’s words don’t even flatter you in the slightest. "Y/N, babe, we’ll be missing out on the first rave at this rate!”

Your eyes do a quick scan of your stark appearance, which renders you speechless. Although you don’t look as bad as you initially thought, you still feel extremely conscious of the lack of layers on your whole body.

The top bikini just fits your breasts nicely with the conspicuous cleavage, but what makes you greatly insecure is the plumpness of your bums, which not even the bottom bikini can cover wholly.

With a sigh, you reluctantly decide to make an exit out of the bathroom. When you pull the door open, you are taken aback to see more familiar faces huddling with their eager eyes on you. Still feeling self-conscious, your arms latch around your body in an attempt to cover yourself.

“Don’t cover your gorgeous body!” Chaewon steps forward to force your arms apart, to which you finally allow them to drop to the sides. At once, collective gasps emit from your beautiful friends in different bikini designs.

“Baby girl! You look drop-dead gorgeous!” Giselle gushes over you before the compliments from the rest of your friends go shooting like bullets at you, causing your cheeks to turn pink as they flare with shyness.

“I swear, you’re going to be leaving this party with more than one number.” Liz shoots you a suggestive wink, earning some choruses of agreement from the others.

Surprisingly, most of them seem to be accepting of the fact that you are bolder than you used to be. As your eyes sweep over to them, there is a hollow in your heart when you notice two missing faces. Yunjin and Wonyoung.

“Come on!” With gleeful chuckles, Chaewon latches her hand on yours before practically dragging you out of the chalet, with the rest eagerly trailing along.

As soon as you step outside, the night has long since made its ascent, leaving only the luminous moonlight hanging in the dark sky. You have no idea where the girls are leading you, but you find yourself enjoying and vibing to the blasting music, smiling softly.

You begin to draw attention from some of the students in your passing vicinity, but you don’t allow their stares to get to you. You even hear whistles that denote vulgarity from some of the guys as Chaewon continues to drag you with her, but you simply dismiss them.

Soon, you have arrived at the boisterous scenery of a group of knights in one of the pools, with other guests gathered to watch the said knights engage in an activity of water volleyball.

Your steps slow down as your eyes sparkle in awe at how vibrant the atmosphere is teeming, with the purple-red LEDs luminescent by the pool and illuminating their faces. The rowdy commotion brings your attention to the knights in the pool, and your eyes instantly latch onto a familiar face with the tattoo inked on the side of his neck.

Your heart flutters at the sight of Heeseung, in his athletic element, as he throws the volleyball in the air before serving expertly. Your eyes rake all over his fine glory, taken aback by how toned his physique actually is beneath the layers of his clothes. As your eyes return to his face, heat weaves across your cheeks at how attractive he looks with his damp hair and the smirk on his lips as he counters the other team’s attack.

“Here.” Chaewon pulls your attention away from him, prompting you to look down at the red cup in her grasp.

“Thanks.” You say awkwardly, accepting the drink from her despite your hesitancy.

“Let’s have a toast!” Liz has all your friends, including you, huddled in a circle. She raises her red cup with a grin on her vibrant face. “To Y/N!”

“Wait, why?” You ask, confusion plastered on your face.

“Just, you know,” Liz shrugs her shoulders. “because you’re finally out of your shell.”

“To Y/N Kang!” Giselle initiates the toast before the other girls rejoice, followed by you.

You can’t dismiss the uneasiness that gnaws at your tummy as you watch them drink. What Liz said earlier bothers you because you have no idea whether to take her words as a bad or good thing. It is also as if she, and most probably the rest of the girls, are more than glad about the new you, and you can’t help but feel that they like you more than before.

You shake your head before deciding to drown this feeling by drinking the liquor, which tasted gassy yet sharp, but the flavour is addictive, leaving you wanting more of it despite the small voice in your head berating you for behaving improperly once again.

Moments have passed, and you find yourself in an effervescent element, vibing to the music as you dance silly with your friends. Maybe the vodka sodas you drank earlier have begun intoxicating your whole senses, but you feel like a whole different person.

“The first rave!” Winter and the others are brimming with excitement as they proceed to make their way to the pool where the knights were playing water volleyball earlier. You follow suit, filled with an adrenaline rush as soon as you land in the pool with a splash.

Just like the rest by the pool, you get lost in the abysmal of the vibrant raving with blasting music reverberating throughout, feeling utterly euphoric. With a lopsided smile at Kazuha, who winks at you before resuming to vibe and dance with a guy, you feel your back hitting someone’s bare chest from behind.

Before you can turn around, the person behind you grips your arm, locking you in place. You feel his hot breath fanning the shell of your earlobe.

“As much as I love to see you like this, have you forgotten your revenge?” Sunghoon whispers lowly to you before you look over your shoulder to meet his eyes.

“Oh, yeah.” You mumble distraughtly, eliciting a scoff from him.

Your eyes trail to the front, and just like that, you spot Jake from a distance. You do a quick scan of his appearance, to which your eyes feast upon the display of his bicep muscles as he is adorning a black singlet that looks taut on his body.

But a frown touches your lips as you see him conversing and flirting, as evident by his sultry gaze and stupid, charming grin on his face, with two girls. The jealousy you thought you had subdued ignites into large flames.

You hate that he looks way too good, and you hate it even more that his attention is not on you.

Your eyes twitch as one of the girls is touching his chest with her fingers grazing his toned muscle, while he doesn’t seem the slightest bothered by this as he continues to converse coquettishly with them.

The sudden wave pool nearly sends you tumbling to the back, but Sunghoon holds you steady with his hands gripping your shoulders, prompting you to divert your attention to him briefly.

“He’s right there, princess.” Sunghoon points out the obvious, his steely eyes penetrate into yours while your skin tingles beneath his touch. “How do you want to get his attention?”

“I don’t know.” You mumble with your crestfallen eyes lowering, completely disheartened, but Sunghoon is not having any of that as he grabs you by the chin to force you to look at him.

“Come on, princess. Don’t be such a weakling. This is the exact reason why you’re an easy target for anyone, because you’re allowing yourself to be a pushover.”

You are uncertain whether to regard his words as another of his insults or as emboldening your spirits. You open your mouth to speak, but he appears to be distracted as he shifts his attention to the side.

When Sunghoon’s eyes flicker towards his best friend, their eyes instantly meet. A devious grin smears across Sunghoon’s lips, whereas Jake simply raises his eyebrow at him while trying his utmost to ignore the sight of you in a cute bikini that displays every curve you have been gatekeeping.

Little did you know that Jake had been having a raging hard-on the moment he spotted you walking into the venue earlier.

“He’s watching us right now.” Sunghoon murmurs, the smirk remaining on his lips as he tears his gaze off of Jake’s penetrating eyes. Sunghoon looks down at you and gives you a subtle nod, giving you a hint that you can grasp.

On the other hand, Jake watches with a clenched jaw as Sunghoon has his hands now roaming all over your body, occasionally groping your ass cheeks while you don’t seem the slightest bothered, given how you are gazing into Sunghoon’s dark eyes with a sultry smile spreading across your luscious lips.

The familiar sense of jealousy lurks within Jake dangerously, but this time, it is so profound that he desires to rip Sunghoon’s hands from touching your body that he once touched, bit, kissed, and fucked. He ignores the two ladies who have been vying for his attention since the moment he stared at the two of you.

Jake knows he shouldn’t be feeling this ridiculous jealousy, especially when he knows that Sunghoon and his other two best friends will soon get to you like the way he did, but fuck, he has never seen you gazing at him the way you do to Sunghoon right now.

Sunghoon shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he does. His dark gaze remains on your sultry countenance, drinking in how sinfully beautiful you look under these purple fluorescences ─ your hair is entirely drenched with some of the strands sticking to your forehead and cheeks, your naturally long wet eyelashes fluttering every now and then to meet his ravenous gaze, the dimples prominent on your cheeks as you smile.

Sunghoon can feel his dick twitching again while his hands on your bare waist tighten. Fuck, you look truly exquisite.

The revenge against Jake remains in your mind, but at the same time, you get lost in the euphoric ecstasy as the reverberating music and the alcohol in your system have influenced you, while there is a blissful sway each time you groove to the beat, causing the water to ripple around you.

“You’re enjoying making him jealous, aren’t you?” Sunghoon adorns an attractive smirk, with his teeth peeking from his lips and his hands remaining latched onto your body.

“I am.” The sound of your giggles goes straight to his dick. Your arms are now draped lazily over his bare shoulders, humming to the music with your head tilted attractively to the side of his eyes. “I hope it’s working.”

“I hope so too.” Sunghoon grins as he grabs your chin to tilt it up before he leans down to give you a kiss on the throat. You gasp at the sensation of his warm lips kissing your skin sensually before licking and nipping it deliciously. You can feel your knees going weak, but thankfully, you’re in the pool, or else you’ll probably fall.

Sunghoon doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon while you continue to move to the music before you decide to turn your head to the side, giving him better access to administer his kisses and licks on your neck with his arm locked around your waist and the other holding your drenched hair to the back.

Your heart pounds harder against your chest as soon as you lock eyes with Jake’s. Your eyes widen slightly to see how his penetrating, dark gaze is drilling into you with his chiselled jaw clenched. You watch as his hand slowly crushes the red cup while you admire how attractive the veins protruding from his arm look.

But a moving figure captures your attention, pulling your attention from Jake, and for a fleeting moment, your eyes meet Heeseung's, to which your pulse begins to drum loudly in your ears at the intensity of his dark gaze alone, but there is a smirk unfurling on his pink lips.

Maybe you are a slut on the inside, because why are you enjoying the fact that two hot men are watching you being blatantly intimate with their best friend?

“Y/N! You’ve got to try this out─” Giselle’s voice snaps you out of the trance, prompting you to shove Sunghoon away from you, but his deep grunt against your neck sends you shivers while his arm tightens around you. “Woah, am I interrupting something?”

You look over at Giselle, noticing the suggestive smirk on her face as her eyes dart between the two of you. “Guys, there are many available chalets for you to do the deed, ya know?”

“Fuck off, Giselle.” Sunghoon grumbles to her, holding you possessively close and making you feel suffocated.

“Nu-uh, I’m here for my friend, and I’m not leaving without her.” Giselle remains adamant, eliciting a pissed-off cuss from Sunghoon before he eventually withdraws from you. With his arm loosening around you, Giselle wastes no time latching her hand on your arm. “Fun floats, Y/N! You’re gonna love them!” She squeals, not even bothered by the fact that she found you with Sunghoon.

“Oh, uh─” Uncertain to leave, your eyes shift to Sunghoon, whose cold facade returns as he looks away from you before heading in the opposite direction.

You ignore the tinge of disappointment in your chest before forcing yourself to smile as Giselle begins to ramble excitedly to you about what happened during the first rave.

The rest of the night passes by quicker than you like, but nevertheless, the night remains young and wild with the constant ebullience teeming in the atmosphere that is also accompanied by the distinctive chatters, blasting music, and the pervading whiff of strong alcoholic odour due to the massive game of beer pong that is ongoing in the background as you navigate your way around the resort.

Your face contorts into a grimace as there is a growing headache forming while you try your utmost not to stumble or bump into anyone. You silently berate yourself for drinking more than one cup of vodka.

Earlier, Giselle brought you to where your other friends were found, by the centre of the pool, where most of the guests were gathered to enjoy a frivolous game of floats. You had fun, especially when you got a sparkly pink flamingo float, which you rode and even engaged in a playful race with your girls. You took some moments of respite, indulging your temptation to drink another cup of vodka and another before resuming.

You recall the adrenaline rush you experienced, and you had no idea whether it was the effect of alcohol or simply that you were having genuine fun, getting utterly intoxicated by the environment that enshrouded your rational side.

You survey your surroundings, trying to search for a certain someone. By now, you have grown accustomed to the sight of people making out lewdly in the open, smoking, and even ingesting substances that will render them on a delirious high.

Still, your nose scrunches up as whiffs of cigarette smoke hit you before you resume your search. Not long after, you have reached the secluded area, where a few familiar faces greet you. Your body goes frigid, and by the time their gazes land on you, you know it’s too late to back out.

Where you are has a pool that is relatively small, and the lights in the area are rather dim, leaving only the blue luminous pool light to illuminate their faces, allowing you to decipher their predatory gazes on you.

Not only is the area being loitered by the four knights’ leaders, but there are a few of their members as well. The air looks hazy, which stems from the burning cigarette sticks in their grasps.

“Hey, babygirl.” Jay greets you in an attractive drawl, to which your cheeks flush pink despite the wariness on your face. “Came here to join us?”

The distaste is visible in your gaze, looking down at his tattooed arm as he offers you a cigarette stick rolled between his fingers. Your eyes trail to the person next to him, who is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, and your heart stings at Jake’s cold penetrating eyes, and yet you don’t miss the way his eyes rake all over your body.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jay heaves a sigh, remaining seated on the bench. “Since you’re here, you might as well join us for a smoke or two.” He shoots you a wicked grin. "I'll teach you how to smoke."

“No, thank you.” You reject him politely with a terse smile before your eyes shift to Heeseung, who is seated next to Jay with his legs spread leisurely. His sultry gaze causes your breath to hitch in your throat before he takes a long drag of smoke from the burning cigarette stick in his grasp.

But it is rather odd. The predatory gazes from other knights are obvious, but they don’t make any approach to you, almost as though they had been warned not to.

You look away from them before your attention is now on a certain someone you had been searching for earlier in the pool by the ledge, smoking with two knight members as he seems to be in a conversation with them.

Ignoring the three leaders’ gazes on you, you proceed to make your way to Sunghoon, despite the nervousness that seems to be coiling in your tummy.

Upon noticing your shadowy figure on the wall, Sunghoon turns his head to look at you. His face remains devoid of emotion before looking away from you to speak to the two knights. You see the way they look at you briefly before they proceed to emerge from the pool, leaving only Sunghoon to dominate the entire pool.

Taking another drag of his cigarette, his thick eyebrow arches at you as he blows out a puff of grey smoke. “Come in here, princess.” He says to you, his dark gaze seems welcoming, but you know for yourself that you ought to be wary of him.

Swallowing harshly, you heed his words, standing by the edge of the pool and crouching down with one palm on the pool’s ledge to support yourself as your legs dip into the cold chlorine water before submerging your whole body inside.

Tip-toeing, you remain afloat as the height of the water hits above your chest. Despite the fact that the others remain loitering around, the air is laden with tension between you and him, which is palpable to you while he maintains unwavering eye contact with you as he takes one last drag of his cigarette.

A familiar arousal stirs within you at how attractive he looks, even though you hate it whenever someone smokes. Tossing the shortened yet burned-out stick behind him, he takes you by surprise as he advances fluidly towards you. The water ripples violently from how fast he moves. All the while, your heart is pounding in anticipation.

The closer he gets, the more you become sobered up. You don’t even have time to register anything in your muddling brain when his hands reach for your arms to pull you to him.

A gasp leaves your lips, surprised by the sense of urgency emanating under his touch. His hand latches onto your nape while the other encases your waist securely as he moves you until your spine hits the hard edge of the concrete.

“Sunghoon.” You gasp again as soon as his lips latch on your skin, with his hand on your nape, forcing you to arch your neck, and you do.

“That’s our cue, guys!” One of the knights announces loudly, eliciting chuckles and grumbles from the rest.

Your cheeks are reddened as they proceed to make their departure from the area, and you so badly want to wallow in embarrassment when crude remarks are thrown at Sunghoon and you by his fellow knights.

“Lucky bastard!” “Good luck, Y/N!” “Wreck her pussy good, man!”

A small scowl etches on your face at the last remark.

“Come on.” You hear Heeseung’s distinct voice at the side, and from your peripheral vision, you spot how Jake is standing frozen in his spot, whereas Jay walks past him without looking back at the two of you. Heeseung grabs Jake’s arm firmly before they eventually leave.

Butterflies swarm in your tummy the longer Sunghoon continues kissing and licking your neck before he lowers his head down to the expanse of your chest. “Where’s that necklace of yours?” He asks in a murmur, getting immersed in the act.

“I kept them in my bag.” You say quietly, getting dizzy by how good his lips feel on your skin. “It’s unbecoming for me to be wearing it, for obvious reasons.” You whisper and swallow down a familiar lump in your throat.

Sunghoon’s cold chuckles fill your ears as he withdraws from you. A lazy smirk spreads across his glistening lips. “Glad that you’re self-aware.”

You don’t respond, distracting yourself by enjoying his body pressing against yours while the water ripples around you gently. You heave a sigh. “I think we managed to convince him─”

“Shhhh.” He leans down next to your head before planting a sensual kiss on your temple, his breath tickling your skin. “Not yet, princess.”

The goosebumps from the cold temperature and his arm around your waist compels you to wrap your legs around his bare waist and snuggle into him, rendering him shocked by how comfortable you are being cosy with him while maintaining a stoic expression.

“Is he still watching us?” You ask softly next to his ear. Your hands have grown accustomed to the heat of his skin beneath your touch as you decide to loosen your grip on his broadened shoulders.

“Yeah.” His hot breath hits the shell of your earlobe, while his deep voice stirs something within you. You can discern the smugness just by his tone alone, prompting you to tilt your head to the side and stare at his face. Though he has a cocky grin smearing his lips, your heart flutters once more at how stunning he looks up close.

Sunghoon has been maintaining eye contact with Jake from afar, and he can’t deny the fact that he finds pure entertainment in the glaring jealousy of his best friend, despite the fact that they share the same goal.

The cocky grin on his lips persists as he breaks eye contact with Jake to stare into your eyes. They sparkle beautifully under these dim lights around you. “Should we piss him off more?” He suggests slyly, knowing that Jake is still watching the two of you intently being all cosy in the pool.

“I don’t know.” Your soft voice is accompanied by hesitation as you lower your gaze while you absentmindedly fiddle with the strands at the back of his hair.

“You told me that you wanted revenge, right?” Sunghoon grips your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “This is your chance, princess. Show him that you don’t need him when you have me to keep you satisfied.”

Although you know he doesn’t mean his words, your cheeks are emblazoned with pink, flustered by his statement. Upon seeing the effect he has on you, a newfound desire ignites within him, admiring how gorgeous you look under this luminescence surrounded by the pool, especially the way your doe eyes are giving him a reason to imagine how good you would look as they leak tears when he fucks your throat.

Just as you are about to respond, your eyes widen at the sensation of his cock directly beneath you as you remain seated on top of him, eliciting a small gasp from you.

You waver as his dark eyes penetrate into yours. You can clearly see the emotions swimming in his hauntingly beautiful eyes that seem to be devouring you whole at any moment in time.

Your lips quiver as you begin to speak, “Sunghoon─”

The escalation is hard for you to grasp. One moment you’re in heated eye contact with the guy who completely hates your guts, and the next, his hand latches on your nape to pull you roughly into him as his lips slam against yours.

The taste of a cigarette remains fresh on his lips, but you find yourself deepening the kiss. He takes you by surprise when he nips at your bottom lip.

With your parted lips leaving a startled gasp, Sunghoon grasps the opportunity to poke his tongue into your hot cavern and begin to explore every inch of you. Your eyes flutter closed, surrendering yourself to him. You reciprocate his kiss with equal fervour, moaning hotly into his mouth as his tongue meshes against yours.

You taste exactly what he imagined ─ sweet, innocent, and addictive to the point where one taste is not enough for him. Oh, he simply can't wait until he is done bringing corruption upon you.

Sunghoon’s kisses feel similar to how Jake kissed you, but there is a slight difference. Sunghoon kisses you like he’s fucking you. He’s kissing you as though to give you a sense of what to expect next.

Yes, he has every intention to fuck you and intoxicate you in ways that you’ll be crawling back for more.

With his hand placed protectively on your back while the other is gripping your ass cheek, he begins to move you around to give Jake a better view of you engaging in a lewd lip-lock with him. The water around you ripples violently from the sense of urgency in the way Sunghoon is migrating you before he decides to settle on the pool’s ledge and brings you to sit on his lap, where the water length is below your waistline.

You mewl into the wet kiss as he squeezes the flesh of your bum hard while his chest rumbles in satisfaction at the sound emitting from you that also shoots directly to his now-hardened cock.

Your hands press onto his bare, toned chest, pushing him as you attempt to break the kiss, needing air, but he faintly growls in return, sending vibrations to your swollen lips. His hand latches on your nape once more while his other arm around your waist tightens, locking you in place.

“Sunghoon─ wait!” You finally manage to break the lip lock and gasp for air, your chest heaving up and down while forbidden desires fog in your head. Your eyes briefly shift to where Jake was last seen, and he has long since disappeared from sight. “I think that’s enough.”

What Sunghoon does next takes you by great surprise. Given how you were a little distracted earlier searching for Jake, Sunghoon has adjusted his shorts and lowered them for his hardened cock to be let free from the confines.

“What are you doing?!” You accidentally release a shriek at the moment he easily lifts you up with one hand on your waist while the other multitasks by pushing aside your dusty pink underwear for easy access.

“Since you used me for your own gain, it’s fair that I do the same.” He says in a grunt as he aims his cock directly at where your hole is that it heats in anticipation despite your action in protest as you attempt to push him away in the chest.

“Sunghoon─” An airy moan leaves your swollen lips as soon as he presses your body down on him, leaving you no choice but to allow yourself to sink onto his dick despite the abrupt breach into the entry that has you whimpering in pain.

“Fuck, how are you still tight even after letting Jake use you?” He hisses lowly at the sensation of your velvety walls enveloping him while your face contorts into a painful pleasure with a broken gasp emitting from you.

“The others might see us.” You manage to utter in a whimper, staring at his face with glistening eyes. Despite your walls hugging him snugly, you still feel the pain of having to adjust to his girth.

You were right. He is thicker than Jake.

The familiarity of wickedness glints in his eye. “That’s the thrilling part, princess.”

A fallen teardrop slides down your cheek as you weakly protest. “But─”

“Shhhh.” Sunghoon’s palm covers your mouth, muffling your whimpers that sound surprisingly adorable to him. The corners of his lips tip up a smirk, his fang-like teeth peeking. “You’re gonna sit on my lap and cockwarm me like a good girl until I say we’re done, understood?”

A shiver runs down your spine upon detecting the danger lurking, which belies his tone as well as the way he is gazing at you. Feeling fearful of him, you hesitantly acquiesce with a head nod, and at the same time, your walls are squeezing around him upon hearing the familiar rowdy commotion, including the jovial laughter belonging to your friends.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepens as he feels it, trying his utmost not to thrust his dick into you. “You fucking like the idea of anyone stumbling upon us with my dick into your sweet cunt, don’t ya, princess?”

“No.” You answer feebly as you shake your head, your glistening eyes remain imploring him while your clenched fists rest on his toned chest.

“No?” Sunghoon’s cold chuckles belie the degradation that has your walls squeezing around him once more. You gasp in shock at the moment he grabs a fist of your hair and pulls it to the back, forcing you to look up at the sky.

Your heart pounds harder against your chest as soon as his lips come into contact with your throat before biting down on the skin almost painfully, which has you swallowing down a painful whimper.

Shivers run down your spine as he drags the tip of his nose upward on your throat, inhaling your scent, until he finally reaches your ear, licking the shell sensually. “You can’t fool me, princess. Whatever you say doesn’t match the way your cunt feels about my dick.” He whispers darkly in your ear, his hand tugging at your hair hard while your scalp is begging for mercy.

“Hoonie, please.” You utter weakly, your voice comes out shaky, and you’re uncertain whether you’re needy or simply fearful of anyone — most of all your friends — stumbling upon both of you.

Something foreign stirs within him at the nickname that left your mouth. He quickly disregards it before leaning his back against the tiles and pulling you to him, resulting in you falling forward while you gasp at the dragging sensation of his cock against your walls.

“Keep your mouth shut, and don’t you dare fuck yourself on my dick yet, or I swear you won’t be allowed to cum.” He warns you, smirking as he gets aroused by the sight of you in tears. His fingers stroke your cheek delicately before he cradles the cusp of your jaw. “Understood?”

“Yes.” You murmur weakly, desperate to feel some friction.

His eyebrow is raised. “Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.” You whisper as the word itself automatically comes to mind, earning yourself another sinister grin from him.

Sunghoon leans back leisurely, his smirk widening at the sight of your desperation and neediness written all over your pretty features. He is surprised at himself for self-restraint in thrusting his cock into your pulsating cunt since he is not a man of patience. It is highly due to the fact that he relishes the tears leaking from your eyes right now, loving that you needed to be fucked by him.

Oh, you will get it, alright.

You don’t know how long you’ve been cockwarming him, but long enough to feel your pussy dripping and your walls clenching around him every once in a while. It simply baffles you that Sunghoon has more self-restraint than you expected.

“Sunghoon.” You begin to whine, jutting your lips into a pout. You push your chest slightly outward with your back arched in an attempt to entice him with your plump breasts, and you swear your nipples are hardened by the warm sensation of his thickness filling you.

A muscle pulses in his jaw while his callous eyes remain on your face, preventing himself from indulging you. “I told you to keep your mouth shut, did I not?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out in a slur as you intentionally clench your walls around his cock, and you can feel him twitching.

You have no idea what possesses you, but you daringly lean your body forward until your breasts are pressed against his toned chest, inching your face closer to his where a whiff of cigarette scent hits you.

Fluttering your eyelashes cunningly while your doe eyes remain feigning innocence, you bite down your bottom lip sensually, attempting to entice him with your allure.

“Please fuck me, Hoonie.” Your soft voice comes out in a breathless moan, yet it is laden with lust.

Inwardly, you cringe at yourself. You hope that your attempt at flirting works on him.

Little do you know, that was his last straw.

Time goes still for a fleeting moment as you get lost in the depths of his dark eyes that swim with inexplicable whirlpools of emotions. The placement of his hands on your waist snaps you out of the trance, and before you can even utter a word, he lifts you up just slightly before pressing you down on his length hard, eliciting a loud, startled gasp from you.

Your mouth parts open at the impact while your walls pulsate in anticipation, despite still having a hard time adjusting to his girth. You can feel him so deeply, and that’s just a single thrust.

“Sunghoon─” A loud moan tears from your throat as soon as he repeats the previous action again, adding more touch as he bucks his hips up into you, allowing you to feel him deeply as the tip nearly hits your cervix while your tits jiggle from the impact.

“You wanted to get fucked, right?” Sunghoon asks rhetorically in between bated breaths. The corner of his pink lips lifts into a smirk, while wickedness glints in his eyes amidst the carnal lust. “You’ll get fucked, alright, and I’ll be the one to fuck you dumb.” He snarls coldly before lifting you and pressing you down on him again.

Another moan leaves your lips before he grabs you by the nape to pull you towards him, connecting his lips with yours, teeth clashing and tongues meshing. The pace he sets is hard and slow, yet each thrust and bounce feels more impactful than the previous, more deeper, as though he is trying to attain something in the wet wonders of your delicious cavity.

More moans spill from your lips as you bounce on his cock, causing your tits to jiggle and look enticing to his eyes before he gropes one flesh and squeezes it painfully, relishing the plumpness of your breast. His other hand remains on your waist to lift and pull you down with ease.

“Say my name, princess.” Sunghoon grits his teeth as the sound of your pretty moans sounds heavenly to his ears and goes straight to his raging cock.

“S-Sunghoon.” You stutter in a moan, your mind is filled with Sunghoon and his cock, which is stuffing your cavity full.

His ravenous eyes flicker down at your swollen lips before he leans forward to capture them in a searing kiss, swallowing each of your moans. “Again.” He murmurs wetly against your lips.

“Hoonie!” You moan out loud, your eyes rolling, and your back goes arching as your arms that are looped around his neck pull him closer to you when he bucks his hips up, feeling the tip hitting your cervix.

His cock twitches inside of you, loving how his name sounds coming from your pretty lips. His arms slither around your waist to pull you impossibly closer until your chests touch, changing the pace as he goes fast and hard.

You bite down your bottom lip, wanting to tone down your moans a notch. His eyes darken at the sight, while something so primal surfaces within him upon seeing how sinful yet angelic you look right now.

Grabbing your chin harshly, his thumb is placed below your bottom lip to pull down the skin, forcing your teeth to release it before he kisses you again, but this time, it feels unforgiving, his tongue meshing against yours, and it is a kiss that has you moaning hotly into his mouth until you swear you feel your drools from the corner of your lips.

You whimper as soon as his teeth bite down your bottom lip harshly, not letting go as he nips and suckles it until it draws blood. But instead of being afraid, your arousal becomes tenfold as the metallic taste reaches your tongue.

The aquatic waves dance around your bodies, with how vigorously he is fucking into you, how he’s kissing and biting your lips, and even exchanging saliva. It feels nasty, yet you want more.

You pull away from the breathtaking kiss that has you gasping for air while Sunghoon marvels at how fucking alluring your swollen lips are, which look ruined and smeared with your blood by how hard he bit you. A satisfied smirk draws on his lips.

“Tell me that you love it.” He commands in a husky voice, holding you by the waist to help you as he sees how evident your lack of stamina is.

“I love it.” You whimper, nearly falling into him because of how exhausted you already are, but he holds you steady with firm eyes.

“Tell me that you love my cock.” He breathes out, grunting out a pleasurable moan as your walls clench around him for the ninth time. “Tell me that you love being my dumb cockslut.”

“I love your cock!” You moan out loud, unable to silence yourself. Your hands grip his broad shoulders tightly, with your nails sinking into his skin as he delivers another shallow thrust that has you throwing your head to the back, allowing his eyes to feast on your neck, which the concealer has long since washed away, now revealing his mark from yesterday.

“And?” He asks in a growl, leaning down with the tip of his nose grazing against your throat before biting down on your skin without any leniency.

You relentlessly bounce and rut your hips against him, your clit deliciously rubbing against his pelvis, which amplifies your impending orgasm. Your back is arched, with your chest occasionally hitting his underjaw.

Upon hearing no coherent response from you, he growls against your skin once more before moving to where his prominent mark is and biting it down threateningly. Pain shoots in your neck at how unforgiving he is while biting your skin and fucking into you.

“And?” He repeats again, and this time, his word manages to register into your brain, which lacks coherence.

“I─” Your breath catches in your throat. “I love being your dumb cockslut.”

“That’s fucking right.” He grunts, grabbing a fist of your drenched hair to tug it, forcing you to look at him with lidded eyes. “You’re my personal slut. Only I get to fuck you like this.”

“Yes.” You gasp, regaining a short period of vitality, which you grasp to fuck yourself onto his dick as the water around you splashes.

His grip tightens on your hair as your scalp begs for mercy. “Yes what?”

“Yes sir!” Your moans sound like a broken record as tears leak from your eyes. Still in delirium, your impending orgasm comes knocking on the door violently, and the knot in your stomach becomes unbearable.

“Don’t cum.” He grits his teeth, his eyes darkening as he feels your walls pulsating unrelentingly. “Don’t you dare fucking cum.”

But you don’t listen to him.

With one last broken moan, you finally come from your delirious high with your body jolting in pleasure and your hips rutting against him, making a mess all over his cock. Your chest heaves up and down as you pant heavily, still moving your hips back and forth, calming down from your high.

Your body goes limp as you allow yourself to rest your chin on his shoulder, with your cheek in contact with the side of his neck. Your heavy panting turns to a whimper while you shiver from his fingers stroking your back, which feel deceptive.

Sunghoon hums, kissing your ear before whispering darkly, “You came without my permission, princess.” He pauses, removing his still-hardened cock from your cunt and eliciting a whimper from you. He wraps your legs around his waist while still buried in your cunt before carrying you with his hands, supporting your derrerié, and proceeding to leave the pool.

Instinctively, your arms loop around his neck while your body shivers from the cold temperature. “Where are you bringing me?” You ask in a slur while the delirious haze remains in your mind.

Sunghoon doesn’t respond, his mind is occupied by the thought of you, you, and your pussy which feels like his new heaven. With a kick to the backdoor of the chalet, he proceeds to enter, where the lights are dim and, thankfully, his best friends are still partying.

Your eyelids feel heavy as the exertion from the fucking finally dawns on you, but the moment your back hits the mattress, you snap your eyes wide open and realise that you are back in the room where you delivered your first blowjob to him.

“Hoonie?” Confusion laces in your tone while your voice comes out weak. You hear shufflings before a pair of hands grab you by the ankle and pull you roughly, eliciting a startled gasp from you.

“Here is what’s gonna happen.” His deep voice ignites the familiar arousal in your core as he hooks his fingers around the string of your bottom bikini before pulling them down in a rush. “I’m going to fuck you for as long as I want, and you’re going to cum again and again.”

“Hoonie, please.” You plead for leniency as he manhandles you, turning you around with your stomach flat on the drenched mattress. But your quivering cunt betrays you as soon as he spreads your legs. “No.” You whimper out as you shake your head while tears prick your eyes.

You yelp out as he lands a hard smack on your ass cheek. “I told you before, didn’t I?” His derogatory chuckles go straight to your cunt before he spanks your ass again, again, and again, until the tears finally spill from your eyes. “That you’ll be doing a lot of begging.”

With another spank, he grabs his hardened dick before aligning it with your hole. Upon hearing your pathetic whimpers, he scoffs before ramming into your hole without any warning.

“I fucking hate you.” He growls, gripping the flesh of your thighs. “You think you’re all pure and saint, but look at you.” He spanks your ass again. “A dirty fucking slut who needs to be stuffed with my cock every time.”

You cry out in both pain and pleasure as he continues to deliver hard yet deliberate thrusts that nearly have you seeing stars, your body jolting forward and by the impact while the sound of skin slapping from his thighs to your bums echoes loudly throughout his room.

“Please, please, please!” You plead out as your fingers claw at the bedsheets, coherency leaving you once more to which you have no idea why or what you are pleading him for.

You feel him leaning down from behind before grabbing a fistful of your dampened hair and pulling it to the back, forcing your back to arch prettily in his ravenous eyes. His hot breath hits your skin as he begins to speak to your ear, “Only disobedient sluts like you don’t deserve to be shown mercy.”

You moan out in between broken sobs, which he relishes while your walls clench hard around his shaft upon the degradation. You hate that you love how mean he is to you, and you hate yourself for wanting more.

He chuckles darkly, his hand making its descent to your neck to grab it threateningly, blocking your airways, which has your heart pumping in panic while you frantically claw at the wrinkled bed sheets.

“I knew you were a slut.” He spits, the hatred in his tone is palpable, which matches how he is fucking into you from the back. “Deep down, you love it when I’m mean to you.”

“Sunghoon!” You utter his name in staggering breaths, feeling his fingers tighten around your neck while your eyes roll to the back at the familiar pleasure with which you find yourself meeting his thrust voluntarily.

“Oh? The slut is enjoying this.” Sunghoon breathes out, his orgasm is impending, but he knows he can’t cum yet unless you’re looking at him. He unsheathes his cock from your gaping hole, and upon hearing your whimper, he spanks your ass again before turning you around.

His tongue slides across his bottom lip as his eyes rake all over your glory. The crystalline tears stain your cheeks while your swollen red lips jut in a pout as you weep silently from the orgasm that was ripped from you.

Spreading your flexible legs, he grabs his cock and aims it into your hole before ramming into you once more, causing your jaw to slacken as your walls have yet to grow accustomed to his size.

“Hoonie.” You whisper weakly, staring into his wicked gaze through teary eyes. Your heart flutters when he presses a deep kiss on your forehead while his hard, deep thrusts remain constant.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m going to make you cum until you can’t take it.” He croons to you, his fingers stroking your cheek delicately before going down to grip your chin. “Open your mouth.”

Not wanting to face his wrath, your quivering lips slowly part open, and he wastes no time in spitting into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. “Now swallow.”

You close your mouth, your throat bobbing up and down as you swallow his thick spit. Oh, it’s fucking nasty, but you love it.

“Good fucking girl.” He whispers amorously, his lips unfurling a smirk before pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss while he maintains the tandem of his vigorous thrusts into your pulsating cunt.

The familiar knot is in your tummy while your walls clench around him hard. “Fuck, that’s it. Squeeze my cock just like that.” His deep moan has you clenching again while his cock twitches inside of you. “I’m gonna cum inside you, princess.”

With one last thrust, his hips smack against yours painfully as he finally comes undone. Grunts of pleasurable moans emit from him while you marvel at how attractive he looks ─ with the sweat dripping down his jaw to his neck and the rose tattoo at the side of his hip, his toned muscles look more prominent than earlier.

Your walls clench around him again upon seeing how handsome he looks. Your hips buck up as you grind on his pelvis, wanting to attain your orgasm as it is peaking. When your fingers lower to rub your clit in a circle, his smirk widens at this before he resumes to thrust into you.

The squelching sound from you as his cum gush from your pussy as he fucks into you sounds utterly obscene, but it adds fuel to your arousal.

Sunghoon watches in admiration and lust as you arch your back with your neck bared in his eyes, moaning loudly as you come undone for the second time, your body in a seizure-like motion while he holds and rubs your trembling thighs.

Sunghoon leans into you to give a kiss to your throat while you moan weakly in response, but you manage to find energy as your fingers make their ascent to his dampened hair, tugging at the roots occasionally at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls as he thrusts into your pliant body.

“We’re not done yet, princess.” He murmurs, peppering kisses and licks on your neck before moving upward to claim your lips, not having enough of you.

As he forces you to open your mouth for him to spit into your cavern again, you know that you are too far gone, succumbing to the pure ecstasy of him fucking into you like it’s the first time as you become pliant for him.

“One more. You can take it.” He grunts against your willowy moist lips, reinserting his cock into your sopping cunt as his hips snap harshly against yours after he comes undone on your tummy messily while your eyelids are becoming droopy, teetering by the immense painful pleasure he is giving you.

You have no idea how long he has been fucking into you, but as your orgasm comes crashing down violently as your body convulses with sobs spilling from your lips, you realise that one more is never enough.

Earlier, you woke up to an empty bed with no sight of Sunghoon, but the familiar scent of his strong cologne attested to his presence in the room not too long ago. The disappointment that dawned on you waned when you spotted birth control pills along with a bottle of mineral water on the nightstand, and you swore you felt something move within you towards the guy who hates you.

Presently, you are attempting to make your escape from the very chalet where Sunghoon and his best friends temporarily reside. Keyword, attempting. Your legs are still incredibly sore from the aftermath, while every inch of your body aches tremendously with each step you take towards the familiar backdoor when Sunghoon brought you into their chalet last night.

You recall seeing the mark you concealed yesterday, which looked glaringly red with a faint tooth bite mark when you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. The mortification splashed onto you when you saw two more similar marks on your neck, each mark is a testament to Sunghoon’s proprietary claim over you, reminding you that you belong to him even if you hate him.

As soon as you push the door open, the warm crisp of afternoon air greets your skin, while the distinct smell of chlorine and the rowdy commotion from the bunch of knights draw your attention to the swimming pool just nearby, where you are standing outside of the chalet.

Your cheeks paint a delicate pink at the realisation that they are in the very pool where Sunghoon fucked you last night. Clearing your throat as you clutch the strap of your tote bag slinging over your shoulder, you resume your journey to search for your friends, if they are still here.

It appears that your movement captures unwanted attention from the unfavourable bunch, especially in the way you walk with an obvious struggle. You become flustered when those knights peer at you with suggestive smirks and winks, while some of them catcalling you with jeering remarks. There is no doubt that your loudness could be heard last night.

Ignoring them, you continue to advance with the intention of disappearing from their sight. Your stomach grumbles on cue just as the delectable smell coming from the barbeques pervades your senses. You turn to the right corner and halt your steps at the sight of familiar faces.

Yeonjun is helping out Jay with the food while Heeseung and Jake are seated with unfamiliar ladies and guys. You tear your gaze off of them as soon as one of the girls touches Jake’s shoulder. It seems that no one realises your presence yet, so you proceed to head in the other direction with the intention to continue your search despite your grumbling stomach.

But you bump into a solid chest, and the familiar cologne is enough for you to know who the person is.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sunghoon asks gruffly, his hands are gripping your tensed shoulders tight, prompting you to glance at him.

Your heart flutters familiarly as your eyes are drinking in his attractiveness, clad in a white tee that looks taut on his body with a black leather jacket hugging him. His hair looks wavy and completely tousled, and you are tempted to adjust his hair neatly. Nevertheless, he looks good, along with a touch of him adorning the familiar browline glasses.

“I’m going to find my friends and get one of them to bring me back to the dorm.” You answer his question tentatively, hating how his steely gaze is colder than yesterday’s.

Sunghoon makes a ‘tsk’ sound that you frown at. “And you didn’t even think to wait for me in the room for me to fetch you?”

“You didn’t even specify anything! You just left me alone in the room! So how was I even supposed to know?” You accidentally raise the volume of your voice, drawing attention from some, including Jake’s. Your cheeks are reddened by the unwanted attention once more and by your foreign resentment towards Sunghoon.

You look away from Sunghoon’s inexplicable dark gaze, expecting him to retaliate or worse, but instead, his warm touch startles you as he drags you with him to where Yeonjun can be seen serving grilled sausages and other varieties of barbecued food to the others amiably.

“Y/N! Glad to see you’re still here.” Yeonjun greets you warmly with a foxy grin that you can’t help but reciprocate with a small smile.

Your breath hitches in your chest when Sunghoon places his hand on your lower back, prompting you to look at him standing next to you, whose face remains devoid of any traces of warmth.

“Some food for the lady here.” Sunghoon tells Yeonjun, to which the latter raises an inquisitive brow at the two of you upon noticing the close proximity.

“Coming right up!” Yeonjun says enthusiastically before grabbing a paper plate at the side and proceeding to fill it with varieties of the grilled food.

“What are you doing?” You ask Sunghoon in a terse whisper. “I told you that I was going to find my friends.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Sunghoon scoffs coldly, not meeting your eyes, as he grabs the filled plate from Yeonjun before his firm hand on your back guides you to one of the vacant single seats.

You give him a bewildered stare just as he gives you the plate, which you hold keenly while your starving stomach is gnawing at you to shove the food into your mouth. “I don’t understand you, Sunghoon.” You murmur, defeated.

Sunghoon takes a seat, his steely eyes meeting yours with a single eyebrow arched at you and his hand patting on his thigh. “Sit.”

You hold back a remark as you comply, not wanting to aggravate the situation with the indescribable tension between the two of you. Despite your worry about crushing him with your weight, you reluctantly lower yourself to sit on his thighs. Your pulse drums in your ear as his arms slither around your waist to lock you in place, preventing you from any potential escape.

You remain frozen on top of him, feeling his hot breath hitting the back of your ear. “Eat.” His soft tone throws you off guard.

“Tell me why you are doing this first.” Your adamance elicits another ‘tsk’ from him.

“I don’t want you to walk around the resort with an empty stomach.” He caves in, but his tone remains impassive. “You’ll only be a bother if you faint out of nowhere from starvation.”

A frown touches your lips while your mind is in a state of confusion. “So you care about me?” The question accidentally slips past your lips.

His cold chuckles send shivers down your spine. “I don’t give a damn about you, princess.” His lips are brushing against your earlobe. “I hate you, or have you forgotten?”

It feels like a needle has pierced into your heart. With a shaky breath, you mutter, “But if you declared so, then why─”

You gasp softly as soon as his teeth nip at your earlobe while his arms tighten around your waist. “So many questions.” He tuts, lowering his head to bury his nose at the side of your exposed neck to inhale your natural sweet scent that is mixed with his familiar shower gel, to which his chest rumbles with approval as he hums.

“As I said before, you’re mine.” His soft tone feels deceptive, as do the kisses he trails wetly on your skin before his warm lips touch your bare shoulder, murmuring, “Which makes you my responsibility. Remember princess,”

He pauses, raising his head to whisper in your ear with a cold snarl that sends you shivers. “You’re mine to touch, mine to kiss, and mine to fuck, and you’ll take whatever I give you like an obedient slut you are.”

The degradation ignites the arousal that stirs in your core as you feel breathless. You shiver again as he places one last kiss on your pulse.

“Now, eat.”

You don’t need to be told for another time as you proceed to dig in grilled food that tastes delectable, all the while you remain seated on his thighs with his arms around your waist before unlocking them to touch, rub, and squeeze your plush thighs. At first, your body tenses at this, but soon, you have grown accustomed to his touch and perched comfortably on top of him.

You blush while maintaining your calmness when two of the knights make an approach and engage in a conversation with Sunghoon, and the fact that Sunghoon remains cool and impassive while his hands are on your thighs and waist as he converses with them completely baffles you.

“I’m done.” You tell him, showing him your empty plate, and when you take a glance at him, your cheeks flare lightly at the smirk on his lips.

“Good girl.” His palm squeezes your plumpness once more. “Do you want more?”

You immediately shake your head before giving him a nervous smile. “No, thank you. I’d like to resume searching for my friends now.”

“No.”

You blink your eyes at him, confused. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I’m not letting you go.” He states flatly.

“But I want to go back to my dorm.” You murmur, your pink lips jutting to a pout, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you until you are left breathless.

“I’ll send you back.” He pats your thigh, signalling you to stand, and you do. “Don’t forget to drink some water and wash your hands.”

Genuinely, you are completely baffled at yourself for wanting to heed his instructions despite a part of you wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. But eventually, you heed anyway.

As you quench your thirst with cold ice water, you feel a pair of eyes staring heatedly at your face, prompting you to turn your head to meet Jake’s eyes. You clench your jaw as the unpleasant memory of his abrupt coldness towards you replays in your mind, your hands slowly crushing the red cup. The corner of his lips seems to be lifting a subtle smile, but you roll your eyes at him before throwing the cup into the rubbish bin.

Your eyes catch sight of Sunghoon, who is holding two black helmets in his grasp while seeming to finish off the conversation with some guy before meeting your eyes and giving you a head nod. You quickly make your way towards him.

“What do you like?” Sunghoon asks as you fall in the same steps as him, following him to where he is guiding you to the parking lot.

You clutch on the strap of your tote bag, which almost slides off your shoulder. “Why?” You ask, bewildered by his behaviour once again.

“Just tell me what you like.” He grumbles, shoving his hand into the pocket of his pants.

You frown, but nonetheless, you tell him anyway. “I like reading books─”

You are cut off by his scoff. “Nerd.” He mumbles.

You make a face at him before continuing on. “As I was saying, I like reading books, the smell of books, food, cats, strawberries─ oh! and I also like to travel!” You answer rather enthusiastically, momentarily forgetting that the guy next to you despises you.

"You like to travel?" Interest furrows his eyebrows. "Have you ever been abroad?"

"No, but I plan to." You say, a hopeful glint in your eye. "I've always wanted to go to Milan."

Sunghoon seems to be ruminating about something before he shakes his head lightly at the thought. “And I’m guessing that your favourite colours are white and pink.” He says in a monotone manner, his face remaining impassive while his mind is jotting down every single thing you listed off.

“How did you know?” You ask, subconsciously touching your satin pink piece, which is knotted into a bow as it ties your hair into a half-up-do.

“Because you always wear white and pink on most days.” His cold scoff doesn’t even deter you from feeling something warm in your tummy. “What are your dislikes?”

“You.” You answer with zero hesitation, despite your voice wavering lightly. As you look around you, you notice that you have reached the parking lot.

Sunghoon only smirks lazily at you in response as he gives you the extra helmet, which you accept. “I hate you too, princess.”

“I never said I hated you.” You retort while busily wearing the helmet, your eyes glistening as you recall the bittersweet memory of Jake assisting you with his helmet.

“I just don’t like you. There’s a difference. Besides, you’re always mean to me.” You mumble, the helmet is now secured on you as you stare at him wearing it with ease before he pulls down the visor, obscuring his face wholly.

“Wait.” He removes his black leather jacket, and foam forms in your mouth as you salivate at the sight of his prominent bicep muscles, with the short sleeves looking taunt against them.

As he closes the gap between the two of you, your breath goes hitching in your throat with your heart pounding against your chest, watching behind your visor as he leans down with both arms around you to wrap his jacket around your waist, with the jacket’s back covering your revealing thighs by how short your white dress is.

“You’re all good?” His voice sounds deep with his head adorned with a helmet, sending flutters to your heart, and you blush when he pats your head gently before he begins to check how secure your helmet is and tightens the jacket around your waist.

Once you nod your head in response and attempt to climb on his sleek black bike, he takes you by surprise yet again, placing both hands on your waist from behind before assisting you in mounting his rather large bike. Surprisingly, you manage to balance yourself as he proceeds to mount next with less effort.

“Hold on to me.” He says as soon as he starts the ignition, you immediately latch your arms around his waist.

Though there is a niggling fear in you at the fact that you are riding a motorcycle once more, you feel oddly safe, especially when he touches your clasped hands as though he is making certain that you are holding on to him securely.

With the abrupt blaring engine that startles you, he proceeds to drive away from the parking lot, and once you two reach the main road, he wastes no time in speeding off, whereas you have no notion of what awaits you next.

His fingers intertwined with yours, holding your hand firmly as if he were wary of you fleeing him. Your eyes twitch at the giggles from the girls walking past the two of you as they are blatantly whispering and admiring at the sight of Sunghoon, whose face is stoic.

You look at him with a frown, wondering if he heard them or not, but the look on his face tells you that he doesn't, when in actuality he can’t be bothered. You sigh inaudibly, knowing that you can’t blame those girls since Sunghoon is undoubtedly attractive.

It isn’t long until you finally arrive at the very place you have been wanting to go, but you don’t have the opportunity since it’s miles away from campus, and you can’t even ask your girls to drive you since you know that they’re busy at times.

On the other hand, Sunghoon watches you, faltering at the sight of your beautiful eyes sparkling with the beaming lights in the establishment reflecting them as you look at your surroundings, your pink lips unfurling a soft smile that has his throat bobbing up and down as he swallows.

You look so innocent, so fucking pure — nothing in comparison to how you looked last night.

But the smile on your lips drops as you look at him, puzzled. “Why did you bring me here?”

“You said you liked books, right?” He raises his eyebrow at you. “Here we are, princess. Pick any books you like. I’ll be paying.”

This time, there are butterflies fluttering annoyingly in your tummy. Your eyes widen as you stare at him in incredulity. “Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?” He deadpans.

“But why???” You are rendered speechless, truly, while your lips remain parted.

“When I said that you’re my responsibility, I meant that.” He murmurs, pulling you closer to him as he tugs at your hand. Gazing deeply into your eyes, his other hand reaches up to grip your chin, his thumb moving to brush your bottom lip sensually. “And that includes catering to whatever you want or need. Now, no more questions from you.”

Sunghoon releases you while you are already missing the warmth of his hand on yours. He shoves both hands into his pockets before gesturing his head to you to proceed. “Go on, princess. Grab the basket and pick any books you like.”

Of course, you hesitate since you hate it whenever someone spends their money on you, making you feel guilty, but the look in his dark gaze compels you to turn around to grab a grey basket before inviting yourself to venture into the wonders of the massive premium book store while he trails behind you leisurely, enjoying how there is a discernible bouncing excitement with each step you take, which brings a smirk to his lips.

Sunghoon has no idea why he is even doing this, even after railing you last night to the point where you cried relentlessly. As a matter of fact, he has never spent his money on the girls he's been with before.

So why, what, and how the fuck did you manage to get him to do this?

Long minutes have passed since you’ve begun your avid search for the books that you have long since noted to buy once you receive your next allowance from your father. The content smile remains on your face while your keen eyes are scanning the books arrayed on the fourth shelf, your fingertips trailing and brushing the spines in a delicate manner that captivates his attention.

On the other hand, boredom strikes Sunghoon to the point where he feels restless, needing to head outside for a stick or two, but he doesn’t want to leave your side, not even a second. Plus, the serenity emanating from you enthrals him with his eyes remaining glued to your face. It’s like he is utterly hypnotised, especially when you look at him with a gentle smile, the dimples appearing on your cheeks, as you show him the books of your liking from time to time.

“It’s a series?” Your soft voice draws his attention to you. With his arms folded across his chest as he leans sideways against the shelf, his sharp eyes fall to your heavenly side profile, noticing the small pout on your luscious lips and the glinting disappointment in your eyes as you look down at the book in your hand.

Sunghoon leans away from the shelf and tucks his hand in his pocket, sauntering towards you. “What’s wrong?”

The moment you look at him, he has had to suck in a sharp breath subtly at your pretty doe eyes, which does something to him. You show him the book in your hand. “I wanted this, but it turns out that it’s actually a series consisting of four books.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you. “So buy all of it, then.” He states the obvious.

You shake your head in response. “This is the first book in the series. The others have yet to be released.” A sigh leaves your lips as you stare at the book in your grasp. “I guess I’ll just buy this next time.”

“Why?” He asks, frowning.

“Just because.” You shrug your shoulders. “I hate waiting patiently for the other books in the series to be published after reading the first book. So I’d rather wait for all to be completed, and then I’ll read.”

“What’s this about anyway?” He snatches the book from your hand, drawing a disbelieving gasp from you.

With a petty huff, you explain shortly. “It’s about romance. A billionaire in a contractual marriage with his personal assistant.”

“So you’re into that type of shit, huh?” He scoffs, flipping through the pages uninterestedly, but then a smirk touches his lips as his eyes flicker to yours. “Does it have, what do you call that, smut?”

To his surprise, your rosy cheeks deepen while you avoid his gaze. “Yes.” You answer meekly.

Scoffing again with the smirk persisting on his lips, he closes the book with one hand before lowering it, now stepping closer to you. “Naughty girl. It turns out that the renowned Catholic girl is not as innocent as everyone thinks.” He drawls out, enjoying how you look flustered under his teasing gaze.

You back away from him, staggering as his domineering aura feels suffocating. Your back hits the shelf behind you while your breath catches in your throat at the close proximity between you and him as he stands directly in front of you.

“I don’t read smuts.” You attempt to assert, but you deflate as his dark eyes penetrate into yours and his smirk taunts you. You swallow harshly. “I-I skipped those parts. I’m only in it for the actual plot.” You whisper, your eyes lowering to stare at his lips.

“Uhuh.” He isn’t convinced, but nonetheless, he actually doesn’t give a fuck about it. What matters to him is that you look so fucking pretty being shy and nervous because of him.

Sunghoon forces you to look back into his eyes as he grips your chin firmly. The book has fallen from his grasp, landing on the carpeted floor with a thud. “Just buy the book. I’ll pre-order the other books in the series for you.”

You don’t even have the chance to protest when he kisses you, igniting the familiar electrifying spark in you, and you gasp as he nips your bottom lip rather gently this time, your lips parting open for him to welcome his wet muscle to invade your cavern.

The butterflies intensify in your tummy as he holds your waist, pinning you against the shelf while your hands slither upward on his chest, relishing how toned he feels beneath the thin material of his shirt before wrapping your arms around his neck. You nearly breathe out a moan into his hot mouth, tongues meshing wetly, before resuming the kiss.

But your eyes snap open at the sound of chuckles and commotion by the shelf behind where you two are, prompting you to pull away from the addictive kiss.

“We’re in public.” You murmur to him, yet you still hold him close to you. Leaning down to your neck, he presses a soft, gentle kiss at where one of his marks is, eliciting a gasp from you while your core begins to heat up at the sensation of his wet muscle licking your hickey. “Hoonie.”

He groans lowly at the familiar nickname on your pretty lips in a whine, his hands squeezing your waist while his dick twitches, yearning to hear you moaning his name again. He withdraws from you, smirking at the glinting lust in your pretty eyes.

“Are you done picking out the books you like?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You answer breathlessly from the short yet fervent lip lock.

“Good.” He leans down to kiss you, but you press your index finger against his chasing lips.

“Not here. Anyone might see us.” You whisper frantically as he lowers your finger.

His dark eyes glint wickedly. “We’ll be giving them a free show, then.”

He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp, before he finally has you melting against him with the searing kiss, his arm encasing your waist possessively while the other is placed on the shelf next to your head.

The sound of your wet lips smacking against each other is conspicuous to your ears, igniting the familiar arousal that prompts you to raise your knee and slide up against the side of his leg before locking your leg around his.

Your heart flutters as he chuckles into the kiss. “Eager are we now, princess?” He murmurs breathily, enjoying how your hands are frantically roaming all over his chest before they move to his neck to pull him down, deepening the kiss.

The both of you continue to make out like two hormonal teenagers in the middle of the bookstore, and you have no idea how long it lasts until he finally withdraws from you, panting slightly as his tongue slides across his bottom lip.

His dark eyes drink in your dazed state, admiring how your luscious lips look swollen from the aftermath, with heavy pants leaving them. With a smirk on his lips, he grabs the book from the floor to arrange it back on the shelf before taking out a new one. He moves to the side to place the book in and grabs the heavy basket that feels lightweight to him before extending his hand towards you.

You gladly accept his hand, his fingers instantly intertwining with yours, before you two advance forward, leaving only the ambience from your making-out session teeming in the air.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, your small smile of gratitude casts at him. “How could I ever repay you?”

“You don’t have to─” He pauses as something comes to mind. He shoots you a suggestive smirk. “Meet me at the palace tomorrow. I’ll text you the time.”

Least to say that you are already looking forward to tomorrow.

You hear them, figuratively, your angels chastising you for your recent misconduct in breaching the ethics you should have retained. The sensible part of you has been reeling in immense guilt, pleading with you to seek forgiveness again, but the other part of you feels malignly anew, beguiling you into committing sins and coaxing your penitence with the assurance of being pardoned over and over.

It is cliché, but your mind is in a waging war by the light and darkness within you, leaving you to grapple with whatever is left of your sanity with each step you stride towards him as he stands by the familiar entrance with his arms crossed over his chest as he leans sideways against the door, his pink lips that have been in your mind unfurl a soft smirk while his eyes drink you in, darkening by each passing second.

Earlier today, you decided to skip two classes, which weren’t mandatory and unlike you, but you didn’t care enough. You called Winter and Karina over, the two girls whom you trusted enough to help beautify you. Winter had no notion and simply assumed that you found another guy to move on from Jake, whereas Karina grasped quickly and seemed rather excited for you since she was the only one who knew about you and Sunghoon.

You feel bolder, and you love the overall look they provided you with their assistance. The black fishnet tights reach at your waistline, and with the black straps around your waist that are visible since you are wearing a graphic white crop top and paired it up with a tight dark chequered skirt, the length reaches way above your thigh area. Your brunette waves have been styled in your wonted coiffure with a white satin piece.

The look in his eyes elevates your self-confidence and gives you a sense of satisfaction at the display of his frontage, which seems rather pleased. Of course, you had to dress up all prettily for him since he had specifically requested you to. After all, you’re his slut.

Once you are in his reach, he pulls you inside in a haste, eliciting giggles from you that sound melodious instead of irksome, which he used to find so.

Sunghoon presses his index fingers against your smiling lips, the mischief dancing in his eyes while the smirk persists on his lips. “You have to be quiet, princess. Jake’s upstairs.” He whispers, and this time, hints of devilry meld with mischief. "We wouldn't want him to get all jealous now, do we? Or do you actually want that?”

“Maybe.” You shrug your shoulders, but the thought of making Jake jealous is enticing to you. “I don’t care about him anymore.” Yet, your declaration isn’t parallel to the unspoken feelings that remain lurking in you.

Sure, you still feel resentment and bitterness towards him, but you can never look past the fact that you still like him, and it is beyond anything platonic. At the same time, you yearn for and crave Sunghoon and his dark allure, which intoxicates you into wanting more as he proceeds to guide you to the second floor.

“Where are we going?” You ask in a hushed tone, enjoying the warmth of his palm on yours.

“We’re going to watch a movie first.” He tells you. “Then I’m going to show you the library.”

Your face beams with dimples on your cheeks. “There’s a library here?”

“Yeah, but most of the shelves are empty since no one really uses the library anymore.” He clears his throat, seeming to be avoiding your gaze. “Don’t worry. I called the book delivery service, and they’ll be coming here tomorrow to replenish those shelves with the latest published books.”

There it goes again — the fluttery feeling in you that makes your cheeks turn rosier. “You did that for me?”

“Of course. How else will I get you to come here often?” He says cockily, causing you to roll your eyes at him, but the soft smile curving at your lips betrays you.

Soon, you and Sunghoon have settled in the familiar cinema, and a wave of nostalgia hits you like a whiplash, painfully reminding you of a certain memory of you and Jake.

Upon seeing your glossy eyes, Sunghoon, who is seated closely next to you, frowns at this. He tightens your intertwined hands, bringing your attention to his stern face. “What’s wrong?”

You adorn a lopsided smile while forcing yourself to bury that memory in the wreckage of your mind. “Nothing. I just feel a little cold.”

“Come here, princess.” He instructs sternly, to which you obediently comply, rising from the couch to perch on his thighs, and this time, you feel comfortable enough that even his hardness on your bum doesn’t even bother you.

The movie is now playing, an action genre that captures your interest, but soon it wanes as you get distracted by the heat of his touch, his palms on your thighs, holding you possessively even when no one is around. Your eyes flicker down, admiring the veins protruding from his hands attractively and the black rings adorning his fingers.

Indulging your curiosity, you decide to play with his slender fingers, touching and fiddling with them. This draws his attention from the massive screen to you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow when you look over your shoulder with a sheepish smile.

“I’m bored, Hoonie.” You have long since caught on to the fact that he appears heavily affected whenever you call him by that. You smile inwardly upon seeing his nose flaring. With a beguiling pout as you tilt your body to face him better, you lean forward to fiddle with the strings of his grey hoodie. “Can we do something else?”

You are certain that he will be swayed by your attempt at flirting once again, but to your disappointment, he simply smirks and pats your waist. “Focus on the movie, princess, or I won’t be showing you the library.”

Huffing out pettily, you return to your original position, purposefully wiggling your ass against his hardened dick that already feels painful, resulting in him gritting his teeth with his jaw clenched as he retains decorum.

Sure, you look absolutely fuckable, but he isn’t about to indulge you so soon.

You force yourself to watch the boring movie with your arms crossed below your chest, feeling annoyed and hotly bothered by the heat in your core that decides to stir at the wrong time.

Feeling a little defiant, you intentionally move and fidget on top of him once more, but as soon as you feel his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs, a concoction of trepidation and excitement evokes in you.

His bated breaths hit your earlobe. “Don’t fucking move.” He warns you harshly as you bite down on your bottom lip.

“I wasn’t.” Your lie sounds so innocent coming from your lips, and you proceed to make the slightest move that feels impactful on his now-raging cock beneath the confines of his garments.

“You think you’re being fucking cute, yeah?” His soft whisper sounds deadly, while the smile on your lips seems to be widening.

“No.” You drawl, your mischief only adding fuel to his anger and libido.

“Yeah, you’re so gonna get it, princess.” He squeezes your thigh once more. “Now focus on the fucking movie.”

The shower head has been running idly, allowing the hot steam to create a mist that occupies every space in the spacious bathroom. The red LED fluorescence in the bathroom is a reflection of the blasphemous deed you are presently engaging in with him, of your own accord.

The sound of skins slapping against each other bounces off these tiles while each pretty moan from your swollen, bruised lips amplifies his primal desire for you, his eyes darkening at the beautiful sight of your moist back in a perfect arch as he continues to pound into you from the back without any ounce of mercy.

Your palms desperately hold onto the tempered glass to keep your upper body from falling due to his unyielding thrusts. Your walls pulsate with each thrust he delivers, mixing with both pain and pleasure from his girth that feels full inside of you, yet you don’t stop fucking back on him.

“Fuck yeah.” His husky, attractive voice goes straight to your cunt as your walls clench around him, and your body jolts in surprise as he spanks your ass for another time. “You riled me up on purpose, didn’t you? Fucking slut.” He spits, spanking you again and eliciting another moan from you.

“Hoonie.” You moan out again, whimpering as he spanks you again. Your ass feels sore from getting spanked earlier on his bed before he brought you here. “H-Hurts.”

“Yeah? That fucking hurts?” He says harshly in between bated breaths. He rubs your sore ass deceptively before landing another smack, this time bringing tears to your eyes. “That’s how it felt when you wiggled and moved your cute ass on my dick earlier.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You plead, your hanging boobs are starting to hurt from jiggling by how hard he is fucking into you, while the slicks of your arousal can be heard obscenely with each hard yet deliberate thrust he delivers. Soon, your orgasm is impending.

“Apologise all you want, because I’m not going to stop fucking this sweet pussy.” He snarls coldly while a sob leaves your lips, feeling his fingers tangled in your drenched hair before pulling your head to the back and forcing your body to flush against him.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He breathes out harshly, kissing your cheek. “All wet for my cock, dirty fucking slut.”

His fingers rub the hard nub, stimulating the bundle of nerves, and his other hand is palming and gripping your tits roughly, occasionally tweaking and pinching your hardened nipple, amplifying your pleasure.

Your eyes roll to the back, getting lost in the delirium with more moans tumbling past your lips, and you hear his harsh pants from his lips next to your ear. His dirty talk arouses you even more.

“Pissed me off again like that, and this is what happens.” He grunts, relishing the sound of your pretty cries and moans that only fuel him. “Rutting on me like a bitch in heat.” He lands a sharp smack on your reddened ass. “You wanna get fucked so bad, yeah? Now you’re gonna get fucked dumb.”

“Sunghoon!” You scream his name, your body convulsing while your knees buckle underneath you. Your orgasm comes crashing down violently on you as you cum hard all over his cock, your body convulsing.

“Yeah, make a fucking mess all over me just like that.” He doesn’t relent, continuously fucking into your sopping cunt as overstimulation dawns on you while his fingers remain flickering and rubbing your clit. His moan arouses you once more. “I’m gonna cum in this pussy.”

With one last thrust, he goes still, holding you tightly close to him while your cunt milks his cock with your walls pulsating. He groans at the delicious sensation of your cunt before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “Fucking pussy made perfect for me, yeah?” He whispers amorously, trailing his kisses on your shoulder blade before unsheathing his cock from your gaping hole.

Sunghoon forces you to bend down, with your hands automatically planting onto the tempered glass and his legs forcing yours apart. Crouching down, both of his hands spread your ass cheeks, and another groan emits from him at the sight of your cum and his mixed together as they slowly leak from your folds.

Your eyes are becoming droopy, but as soon as you feel the sensation of him spitting onto your cunt, your eyes widen before a breathy moan leaves your lips as he plunges two fingers into your leaking hole.

“Hoonie.” You whimper, feeling utterly overstimulated, but your body betrays you as you fuck yourself onto his fingers with an arched back.

With a smirk on his lips, he withdraws his fingers from you, causing you to sob out in frustration. “Get on your knees, princess.”

Despite your aching body, you eagerly heed his command, your knees in contact with the toilet tiles, while your eyes feast at the sight of his nearly erect cock in front of you.

“Go on. Suck me good like the cockslut you are.” He orders mockingly, and wanting to please him, you grab his length, recalling lesson one and applying it.

Sunghoon throws his head to the back with his hand on your head to control your movement as you take him deep in your mouth until the tip hits the back of your throat. “That’s it. Take me like the hungry slut you are.” He spits at you while you moan in response, sending vibrations to his cock.

Your knees are starting to feel sore, and your jaw is starting to hurt from his girth with your spits drooling down to your chin, but you are determined to get him to cum. His grunts, moans, and dirty talk all go straight to your sopping cunt, spurring you to rub your clit with your fingers.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He announces, his jaw clenching while his dark eyes meet yours as you look up at him with fluttery eyelashes, taking him deeper and struggling to breathe. He grips your hair tight, practically using your mouth as if it’s your pussy and fucks into you, causing your nose to hit his pelvis. “Fucking take it and swallow my cum.” He releases a guttural growl before holding your head still as he finally cums into your throat.

You swallow his cum as though you have been deprived of it, earning yourself a satisfied smirk from him. You withdraw from him, gasping loudly with your chest heaving up and down. Everything hurts, yet your mind remains in bliss with the smell of soap and sex teeming in the bathroom.

Sunghoon grabs you by the arm before you can allow yourself to lie on the toilet tiles. You don’t even have the time to marvel at his strength for being able to carry and handle you with ease as he pins you against the tempered glass facing him.

“Hoonie─” You are silenced by his lips on yours, sealing you in a searing kiss with his wet muscle exploring your cavern, tasting himself. You moan into his mouth, your hands on his abdominal muscles to feel them before migrating them to his biceps.

You feel his hands on your waist before moving down to your ass cheeks. “Jump.” He murmurs against your lips, and you comply, jumping as he assists you in wrapping your legs around his waist.

He continues to make out with you, exchanging saliva and moaning wetly into the kiss, biting down on your bruised lips for another time before pulling away from you to trail his kisses down your neck, licking the marks he left on your skin before creating a new one on your shoulder blade.

Your neck is arched, moaning at the pleasure before you feel the head of his cock sliding up and down on your wet folds. You whimper as he slowly thrusts into you, your walls having to accommodate his girth despite being fucked earlier.

“Sunghoon!” You yelp out in pain as soon as he bites down on your shoulder so hard that you swear he’s drawing blood. He ignores you, kissing and licking the fresh bruise on your shoulder while thrusting into you slowly.

The slickness from your cums serves as a lubricant for him, allowing him to fuck into you deliciously.

“Hoonie.” You moan, pulling him by the nape to kiss him while he allows you. “Feel so good.” You slur against his lips, your nails on his back raking up and down, sending shivers down his spine.

“Yeah? I’m fucking you good, princess?” He grins as the wickedness in his dark gaze arouses fear and anticipation in you.

“So, so good.” You blabber out, moaning brokenly at the abrupt, harsh, yet deliberate thrust from him, causing your body to jolt up and your tits to jiggle.

“Want more?” He asks sinisterly, fucking into you at a vigorous pace. “Want me to make you feel good till it fucking hurts, princess?”

“Yes!” Your head hits the tempered glass behind you, your nails raking on his back frantically, and that will undoubtedly leave marks, sobbing at the painful pleasure he is giving you.

The familiar knot twists in your tummy as your orgasm is impending once more. He leans down to suckle your nipple harshly before releasing it to press a kiss on your neck, nipping on the skin and panting harshly against your neck.

“You’re mine, princess,” His dark tone belies a promise. “and I’m going to make sure you’ll remember that by the time I’m done with you.”

Oh, not for a second did you ever doubt him.

The smell of tobacco pervades his room as soon as you step out of the bathroom, to which your nose automatically scrunches up in disgust at the unpleasant smell that you have yet to get accustomed to.

You are dressed in your previous attire, including the fishnet tights. With each movement you make, a series of winces leave your lips with tremendous aches everywhere, but you are able to withstand the pain better than the first time.

Your eyes shift to the figure seated by the window sill, who is only adorning his sweatpants, leaving his upper body in its fine glory that has your mouth salivating and your eyes to feast upon his toned muscles.

Your eyes trail to each of his tattoos ─ the rose tattoo on his hip and the butterfly tattoo on his nape, as his side profile is adjacently facing you while he appears to be gazing out to the window.

He takes a long drag of his burning cigarette stick before blowing the smoke out leisurely. “Do you have genuine feelings for Jake?” He asks without sparing a glance at you.

You notice the way his jaw clenches afterwards, and you know that you have to be careful when choosing your next words. “Does it matter?” You scoff lightly but still remain rooted in your spot. “He has other girls to keep him occupied anyway.”

Sunghoon turns his head to meet your eyes, and he maintains eye contact as he takes another drag of his stick and blows it out. “Come here, princess.” His hand flicks downward, beckoning for you to head over to him despite your aching legs, which are such a hindrance to allowing you to walk properly.

You sit politely on your knees in front of him, allowing yourself to fold your arms on the bench he is sitting on and rest your chin on top of your arms. With your curious eyes watching him as he throws his burnt-out stick outside of the window, you await his next move.

With a lazy grin smearing his cheek, he grabs the cigarette box at the side before taking out a stick. “Wanna try smoking?”

“N-No.” You answer, flustered by his suggestion.

“Awww, it won’t hurt to try one.” He kisses the back of his mouth, his fingers stroking your head like a mockery, and tenderly cradles your cheek, leaving you no choice but to part open your lips as he slowly pushes the stick to your mouth.

With your doe eyes staring into his eyes, his dick twitches slightly beneath his sweatpants. Uneasiness coils in your tummy as he lights up the end of the stick with the lighter. Naturally, you inhale the substance, but the smoke hits the back of your throat unpleasantly, your fingers taking out the stick before you cough out the smoke.

“Ew.” Your face contorts into disgust before you give it to him. “I don’t like it.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to smoke.” Sunghoon scoffs, taking the stick from you. “I’ll teach you one day.”

Before you can protest, knocking on his door startles you, prompting you to look at him questionably, whereas he seems confused as well. “Can you get it for me, princess?” His politeness surprises you, and you heed his words as you rise from the floor.

With shaky legs, you quickly compose yourself before making your way towards the door, inwardly grumbling at how massive his room is just to get to the door, which takes you probably two to three minutes.

With your hand gripping the handle, you slowly push it down and open, revealing the very person you don’t want to see.

“Hey, man, I’m here for my mask─” As soon as Jake looks up from his phone, his eyes meet yours, both reflecting similar sentiments, yet your faces remain impassive.

His eyes do a quick scan of your appearance, marvelling at how gorgeous your new look is, and the fishnet tights adorning your smooth legs go straight to his cock as it twitches. As he returns his gaze to your face, that is when he notices the display of fresh hickeys on your neckline.

His nose flares while he clenches his fist at the side, refraining himself from acting upon violence towards his best friend since, after all, their goals are aligned. But still, that doesn’t make it any less hard on him, especially when he has been yearning for you and needs you in ways that only you can satisfy him.

“What do you want?” Sunghoon asks, his footsteps approaching from behind you, and when you feel his hand on your ass, your breath hitches in your throat, especially when you notice Jake’s dark eyes on Sunghoon’s hand.

“I’m here for my mask, since you said that it has been adjusted.” Jake says coldly.

Sunghoon is not in the slightest bothered by his best friend’s sudden hostility, knowing that the latter won’t be able to stay mad at him any longer. “Right, come on in.” He shoots Jake a grin before looking at you and placing a kiss on your cheek. “Now, princess, treat our guest nicely while I retrieve his mask.”

You ignore Jake’s burning stare on your face as you give Sunghoon a nervous smile. “Okay.”

Sunghoon releases you, allowing you to step aside for Jake to enter. “I’ll be right back.” He informs the both of you before exiting his room.

Awkward silence envelopes you and Jake. You look away from him as you lean your ass against the edge of the table at the side, feigning to be occupied by inspecting your nails.

“Y/N.” Jake breaks the ice after a couple of beats.

“Jake.” You greet him curtly, still refusing to look into the eyes of the guy whose lips were on some girl.

“Having fun fucking around with my best friend?” The sarcasm in his tone ignites a fire within you, while the apparent jealousy goes unnoticed by you.

“What I do is not in any of your business.” You take yourself by surprise with how cold and snarky you sound. Your glaring eyes meet his steely ones.

“It is when Sunghoon is my best friend.” Jake grits his teeth, now stalking towards you like a predator about to pounce on his prey. “Tell me, did he fuck you any better?”

Your nose flares with anger while you ignore the palpable tension that feels thick in the air. The urge to piss him off is so strong that you even find yourself smirking lightly. “As a matter of fact, yes. He fucked me so good, even better than you ever did.”

“Don’t lie to me, lovely.” He warns in a husky voice that makes your heart go fluttering, and the close proximity between the two of you causes you to deflate.

Jake sees the flicker of hurt in your eyes. “Don’t call me that.” Your lips quiver, and the weak tone in your voice betrays the fierce facade you put up.

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest when his fingers stroke your cheek tenderly, and his eyes soften as he gazes into your glossy ones. “But I want to, because you’re my lovely, aren’t you?”

“Am I?” A humourless laugh emits from you, your eyes blurring with each blink while your chest starts to feel constricted. “I mean, you clearly told me that I wasn’t anything special to you.”

“Y/N─”

You cut him off sharply, pouring out your pent-up emotions on him. “I hate you! I hate you for making me special like I’m your only girl when you had another!” You lean away from the table, now glaring heatedly into his eyes through your tears. “I was more mad that you ghosted me after making me feel attached to you! Leaving me to wonder what I did wrong!”

“Y/N, love─”

“What did you say to me the other day? That I was delusional?” You release a derisive laugh, holding back a sob. “You’re right. I was freaking delusional for thinking that I was your girl. The worst part is the fact that I actually liked you!”

By now, you are going hysteric, not knowing how to regulate your emotions that are going haywire at the moment. With clenched fists, you punch his solid chest, which doesn't have any effect on him.

“Come on! Insult me like you did!” You grit your teeth, tears streaming down your cheeks as you continue your assault. “I hate you! You’re even meaner than Hoonie! I hate it even more that I still like you!”

Your chest heaves up and down as you breathe heavily, ceasing your assault on him. Whatever happened has just taken a toll on you. You accept defeat as Jake holds both your fists.

“Do you mean it?” He asks lowly, moving closer to you while holding your hands close to his chest. “That you still like me?”

You sniffle before scoffing out. “Why does it matter to you? You have other girls─”

“But they’re not you.” He cuts you off, with a tinge of softness in his tone. His hand goes to cradle your damp cheek, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I admit that I’m not perfect, and I’m fucked up in ways that you wouldn’t understand, but even after all of that, my heart remains beating for you.”

A whimper leaves your lips as you recall. “But you kissed that girl─”

“Fuck, I know, love, and I shouldn’t have done that when my heart only yearns for you.” His husky voice feels distracting, pulling you out of the sadness. As you blink your eyes, you can see the emotions swimming in the depths of his eyes — a concoction of adoration, lust, and danger.

“Let me prove it to you.” He says softly before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him while his hand cradles your jaw, tilting your head up to place a kiss on your awaiting lips.

Never mind the fact that Sunghoon has tasted and kissed you, because what matters is that you’re here, real, in his arms. The sensation of your willowy lips feels familiar, almost like home. He tilts his head to the perfect angle, deepening the kiss that has you melting against him.

Jake kissing you feels wholly different than the last time he kissed you. This kiss feels more intimate with a heavy touch of gentleness, and yet you can sense his urgency by the movement of his lips alone.

No, you should not be caving in, you should not be falling for him again, and yet…..

Upon hearing footsteps, your eyes widen before you force yourself to break the kiss and step away from him. You miss the glinting disappointment in his eyes as you look at Sunghoon, who has entered the room.

“Here.” Sunghoon says to Jake, passing him the familiar-looking mask that has your eyes widening.

Not only is the red mask that you once saw in Jake’s room in his possession, but the silver mask Sunghoon is holding looks exactly the same as one of your predators’. By now, your inner turmoil feels endless while your heart pounds harder against your chest.

You should not have ignored your gut feeling the moment you saw Jake’s red mask. As they converse with each other, you can hear your pulse drumming in your ear while dread crawls onto your skin at the realisation that you have been fucking around with two of your predators from Devil’s Night.

The loudness of your silence draws their attention to you, and they notice the panic and fear storming in your eyes. There is no doubt that the other two are Heeseung and Jay.

“Are you okay?” Jake asks, his hand instinctively reaching for your arm, but when you feel his touch, you flinch and back away, bringing a frown to his lips.

“Of course she’s not. You did kiss her.” Sunghoon chuckles coldly, meeting Jake’s surprised eyes. “Oh yeah, I know what you did when I was gone. As expected from a sly bastard like you.”

Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Fuck off. She kissed me back anyway.”

“I-I have to go.” You stammer, your head feels lightheaded, and you want nothing more than to cower from your two predators.

Just as you walk past Sunghoon, he grabs your arm firmly and arches his eyebrow at you. “I don’t think so, princess. Plus, we haven’t had our fun yet.”

“Let me go.” You attempt to jerk your arm from his tight grip, but it is futile. “I’m not kidding, Sunghoon.”

“Neither am I.” Your heart pumps harder at the callous smile he adorns, while he takes notice of the way your eyes flicker with fear as you look at his mask. He brings it up, surprised to see you flinch. “Why are you afraid of a mere mask, princess?”

“You’re one of them.” Your voice shakes with palpable fear, but you smack your lips shut together quickly as soon as you realise that you were not meant to say them out loud.

Sunghoon scans you briefly before realisation hits him, and his lips unfurl a smirk. “Ah, so the sweet angel finally put the pieces together.”

“What?” Jake asks, approaching the two of you, which only leaves you recoiling from him. “Lovely, what’s wrong? You know that I would never hurt you.”

“Don’t you realise it yet, Jake?” Sunghoon’s annoyed sigh denotes impatience. “She finally knows who we are and who we were on Devil’s Night.”

When you meet Jake’s eyes for a fleeting moment, the trepidation coursing through your veins intensifies at the wickedness glinting in his eyes, which reflects the same as Sunghoon’s. It’s like something has possessed him, making him an entirely different person.

Acting on your instinct as your body goes into fight-or-flight mode, exactly like on Devil’s Night, a fleeting nostalgia hits you as you turn around and latch your hand on the door handle, but Sunghoon’s palm on the door above your head intercepts your escape. You try to push down the handle and pull the door, but his strength outweighs yours.

“Trying to escape from us again, angel? Have you forgotten what happened on that same night?” Sunghoon’s tone drips with a mockery menace, and your fear for your two predators becomes tenfold as you recall. Your body is now trembling while tears prick in your eyes.

“Come on, sweet angel. Don’t be afraid of us.” Jake’s attractive lull can be heard from behind, and it does nothing to ease the foreboding tension.

Sunghoon grabs your arm tight, forcing you to turn around, and when you do, a bloodthirsty, carnal desire lurks in the depths of his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Angel should be afraid. You’ve seen what we are capable of.”

“Let me go, please.” You remain persistent, imploring them with your glistening eyes, and yet, amidst the trepidation, there is a whirlpool of lustful desire and excitement within you.

“Don’t you get it, princess? You’re mine, now,” Sunghoon’s fingers grip your chin tight to force you to look at Jake’s predatory gaze as he leans down to the side of your face to kiss your cheek sensually. “and you’re his. There has been no escape from us since the moment you showed up on Devil’s Night.”

As soon as Sunghoon trails his kisses down to your neck, stopping at where your erratic pulse is, you fear he might sink his teeth into your skin just like he always does. You see the way Jake’s eyes darken with jealousy and carnal lust upon seeing Sunghoon assault your neck with his lips.

“Unless you want to get on our bad side, then I suggest you take what we give you.” Sunghoon snarls against your throat, evoking more fear and a familiar arousal in your core.

“Move.” Jake’s demand prompts Sunghoon to move aside, and when your sheeny eyes meet Jake’s, he wastes no time having you in possession, his arms around your bare waist and his fingers tug at the string of your fishnet, smirking down at you. “You wore this for me, didn’t you, angel?”

You don’t respond, remaining numb as your voice decides to disappear. Jake cradles your cheek, forcing you to tilt your head up as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours while his hot breath fans above your lips. “Jump and wrap your legs around my waist.”

Although his soft tone should be a balm to your ongoing consternation, there is a hint of darkness, and you know you should heed his command, and you do. With your arms hooked around his neck, you marvel at how he is carrying you with one hand supporting your derrière effortlessly while the other is occupied with his red mask.

Jake migrates over to Sunghoon’s bed and settles down, with you remaining on top of him. With your faltering gaze, his lips curve into a smirk, one hand holding your lower back while the other reaches up to caress your cheek. “You’re going to feel good, angel.”

Your lips are quivering while your mind is in a state of chaos, wanting and not wanting to be stuffed full since the prior fucking with Sunghoon has rendered you exhausted.

“But I’m sore.” You whisper weakly, and you hear Jake kissing the back of his mouth as he continues to stroke your cheek.

“You can take it.” Jake croons to you, bringing more tears to collect on the rims of your eyes. He leans in to kiss you sweetly, distracting you as he adjusts to lower his pants, letting his raging hard-on be free from the confines. “You’re our good girl, yeah?” He rasps against your lips before withdrawing from you to lay you down on the mattress.

Your heart races in anticipation as he lowers himself, hiking your skirt up. A startled gasp leaves your mouth, completely thrown off guard, when he tears the fishnet tights at your lower region. “Jaeyun!” You whine, and you know that you’re going to get an earful from Winter.

“It was in the way, lovely.” His growl goes straight to your pulsating cunt. Your body jolts as soon as you feel the head of his cock tapping heavily on your already sensitive clit, causing your breath to hitch.

A whimper catches in the back of your throat as soon as he breaches your entry, and your walls instantly envelope his cock. He grits his teeth, relishing in the way your walls are hugging him as though they had missed him. “I fucking miss this pussy.” He grunts out before slowly thrusting in and out, sending your head spinning by how instantly good he is making you feel.

“Jaeyun.” You moan out, bringing a fist to cover your mouth, but Jake pulls it away from you before his hand goes underneath your body to raise you, changing position so you can feel him deeper as you perch on top of him.

Your pretty moans go straight to Jake and Sunghoon’s cock while the latter remains watching you pick up the pace to fuck yourself onto Jake like a desperate, hungry little slut as he takes a drag of his smoke. He hates to admit it, as jealousy is brimming in him, but fucking hell, this looks better than any pornography he watched.

“Jaeyun, I’m gonna cum.” You announce to him, your back is arched with your head thrown to the back, bouncing and fucking yourself onto him as your hands grip his shoulders tight.

Jake occasionally bucks his hips up to assist you, but it looks like he doesn’t need to do all of the job, smirking as he gazes at you at the pure bliss etched on your pretty features. Flickering his eyes at your parted lips, he pulls you by the nape to kiss you.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He says in between kisses while something warm fills your chest.

“I've missed you too, Jaeyun.” You whimper, your thighs are quivering, and the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable. “Please let me cum.”

“Go ahead, angel. Cum all over me.” You mewl into the kiss, melting at how sweet and gentle he is with you before you finally come undone at the same time he does, as evident by the hot moan he emits into your parted lips.

Jake doesn’t stop kissing you, getting addicted to your willowy lips and your taste while his arms slither around your waist to pull you impossibly closer.

From behind, you feel a menacing presence, and before you know it, fingers tangle in your hair before forcing you to break the lip lock with Jake.

“Have you forgotten about me, princess?” Sunghoon sneers down at you as you are forced to look up at him, your scalp burning from how tight he is gripping your hair.

“N-No.” You try your utmost to answer sincerely, and it is true. All the while, fucking Jake, the thought of Sunghoon watching you was incredibly hot.

“Good to know. Now, open your mouth.” He commands lowly, and when you slowly part your lips open, he leans down to spit into your hot cavern, eliciting a moan from you before he swallows your moan, kissing you hard.

Jake’s cock twitches inside of you as he watches Sunghoon’s hand gripping your neck from behind while he kisses you. Biting down his bottom lip, he makes a tentative thrust into you, and he hears another moan that sounds muffled in the back of your throat.

As soon as Sunghoon breaks the lip lock, you whimper in disappointment while Jake continues to fuck into you with his hands on your waist, but the words leaving Sunghoon’s mouth cause your walls to clench around Jake.

“Fuck her in a reverse cowgirl. Want her to fuck my dick with her mouth.”

Jake ceases his movement and places a gentle kiss on your swollen lips before lifting you up, assisting you in the change of position. You slowly sink yourself onto Jake's cock with a breathy moan, feeling his girth stuffing you to the fullest.

Excitement gleams in your eyes while your mouth salivates at the sight of Sunghoon’s erect cock in front of you. Like the good girl you are, you begin your administration by grabbing his warm cock before licking the tip, which elicits a low cuss from Sunghoon. Getting impatient, he shoves his whole girth into your mouth, forcing your jaw to go slacken before he decides to use your mouth as he pleases.

Tears are streaming down your face at the euphoric pain and pleasure from your two predators that you were supposed to flee. Sunghoon’s derogatory, harsh tone and Jake’s sweet, gentle tone as they dirty talk to you while fucking into your holes send you into a state of pure bliss.

“I’m gonna cum.” Sunghoon announces, snarling down at you as he grips your hair. “You better swallow every drop.”

“I’m cumming too, angel.” Jake says breathless next to your ear, tilting his head to kiss away your tears.

A collective guttural moan emits from the two hot men before filling your holes with their cum. Sunghoon withdraws from you, allowing you to regulate your breathing before moaning weakly as you come undone all over Jake for the second time.

“That’s a good girl.” Jake whispers in a lull as your body convulses uncontrollably, his arms hugging your waist and his fingers stroking the skin in an attempt to soothe you from the aftermath.

Jake slowly lifts you up from him, settling you on the bed, and you don’t hesitate to allow your body to fall on the bouncy mattress, the exertion from all the events today dawning on your body as you pant heavily.

You feel the bed dipping before a hand stroke and cradle your head, prompting you to raise your head lazily and stare into Sunghoon’s eyes. “Stay for the night, princess.”

You can only afford to hum your answer. You allow Sunghoon to manhandle you once more as your body raises vertically, now clad back in his sweatpants. Leaning his back against the headboard, he brings you to him, settling you on top of him.

“You did so well, princess.” Sunghoon whispers amorously, leaning towards your face. “You’re going to be so fucking good for us.”

You flutter your eyes closed as soon as his warm lips envelope yours, kissing you sweetly this time. The taste of his cigarette smell is evident on your lips, but you deepen the kiss instead of backing away in disgust. You feel a presence behind you, and your brunette waves are pushed aside for Jake to kiss your neck.

“Our sweet angel.” Jake purrs against your skin while you remain in a lip lock with Sunghoon. “Just for us.”

You mewl into the kiss in response, and your heart goes fluttering as they continue to kiss you. You feel fingers gripping your chin and forcing you away from Sunghoon before Jake devours your lips with your head turned sideways. Sunghoon grasps the chance to kiss your tainted neck, biting and licking your skin.

As your two predators continue to make out with you and gradually turn messy, you know that you’ll be wanting back for more, even if it means repressing the light in you in a cage while the darkness in you feels so sinister, luring you further into getting lost in this intoxicating abysmal.

When the next day arrived, you woke up to your phone vibrating with an incoming call from Wonyoung, but you ignored her and the spam messages from your other friends. What matters to you is that you’re still in Jake and Sunghoon’s possession.

“Hoonie!” You whine as soon as Sunghoon smears the whip cream on your lips. Presently, you are in the sumptuous kitchen with him and Jake, just them idling around and sticking to you as though you are a magnet, impossible for them to stray from you any longer, whereas you want to indulge your craving for strawberries with whip cream. Jake’s white tee you adorned looks big on you with the length reaching your knees.

“Jaeyun, look at him.” You complain to Jake, who has been grinning ear-to-ear at how adorable you look with the whip cream now smeared on your faces.

“I’m looking.” Jake teases you, nodding his head with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Aww, don’t sulk, princess.” Sunghoon coos, his lips curving into a smirk as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I’ll wipe them off for you.”

You know that he is up to no good with that devilish smirk on his handsome face, but you don’t complain much anyway as he grabs your chin and presses his lips on yours, his tongue licking the whip cream on your lips before poking into your mouth.

Just as you two are about to get engrossed in the kissing, the sound of footsteps entering the kitchen prompts you to pull away from Sunghoon’s chasing lips. You turn around to reach for the tissue to wipe away the excessive whip cream on your face before you tense at his voice.

“What the fuck did you guys do to my kitchen?” The annoyance laces in Jay’s husky voice cause the familiar dread to crawl onto your skin.

“Don’t be dramatic. We didn’t even make any mess.” Jake scoffs, leaning away from the countertop. “And for your information, it’s not your kitchen.”

“Yeah, but who did most of the cooking?” Jay shoots him a scowl before his eyes trail to you, who is facing Sunghoon as he assists in wiping the cream off your face while you stare at him with a sulky pout, but the playfulness dances delightfully in your sparkly eyes.

“The cooker that we hired, duh.” Jake retorts, oblivious to the way Jay is staring at you. Jay clenches a fist as soon as he spots visible hickeys on your pretty neckline.

“I want to wash my face.” You tell Sunghoon, your hand finds its way to grab his hand, but as soon as you make your first step, you tenses up at Jay’s voice.

“So you’re a regular here now, baby?” Jay smirks, wanting to evoke some reaction from you while the memory of your body on his remains fresh, and he yearns to touch you like he did on Devil’s Night.

But to his surprise and disappointment, you cast him a blank stare, as though he is a mere stranger to you. The emotions in your eyes are inexplicable before you look away from him and proceed to tug Sunghoon with you as you two depart from the kitchen. Sunghoon manages to shoot Jay a smug smile fleetingly.

“Looks like you need to try harder, man.” Jake chuckles, patting Jay’s tensed shoulder before leaving the kitchen.

A muscle pulses in Jay’s jaw, and the anger he has been keeping at bay surfaces. No fucking way. Did you just ignore him? After you had danced intimately with him on Devil’s Night and taunted him with your alluring, blissful sway?

Storms rage in his dark eyes while his jaw remains locked. There is no fucking way you’re going to continue disregarding his domineering existence, and he’ll simply have to prove your resistance to ignoring him wrong.

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