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dollyyun · 4 months

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𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓

SYNOPSIS: You and Lee Heeseung are pursuing the same major, and the two of you have always been the top students in your cohort throughout your university years. Although you have never exactly interacted with him, sometimes you catch him staring at you, and the intensity of his gaze is enough to knock the breath out of you. After being heavily involved with his comrades, you should be staying away from him, you should be avoiding him at all costs, and yet, in your vulnerable state, including the lust clouding your better judgement, you fall for his dark allure, allowing him to breach through the walls that you built to protect yourself from them.

PAIRING: lee heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: 18+ (mdni), college au, semi-adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.

WORD COUNT: 35.8k

WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, assault, mild violence, profanities, yandere, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, dubcon theme, smut.

PLAYLIST: Infected - Sickick, Triggered - Chase Atlantic, Okay - Chase Atlantic, House of Ballons - The Weeknd, Lights Down Low - Maejor, Wet the bed - Chris Brown, Under the influence - Chris Brown, Drive You Insane - Daniel Di Angelo, Talk Dirty - Daniel Di Angelo, So It Goes - Taylor Swift, Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey.

PREV (PART 4) | NEXT (PART 6.1) ✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘

✧*̥˚ HEESEUNG'S MOODBOARD *̥˚✧

-smut warnings under cut-

smut warnings: unprotected sex (no!), mean&softdom!hee (he’s unpredictable), name calling (slut, sweetheart, pretty, baby), manhandling, degradation, car sex, slight bondage, gagging, choking, dry humping, blowjob, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

The radiance deriving from the moonlight casts a gentle glow in the room, allowing him to gaze upon the beautiful serenity on your face as he remains stationary by the window sill with his folded arms across his chest, ostensibly posing as a bodyguard to obviate any danger from reaching you.

Danger? The lovely irony elicits a lowly scoff from him, yet the corner of his lips curves upward into a smirk. Indeed, it is lovely, because there is a potential danger at this very moment that could inflict harm on you as you have fallen into the realm of dreams, rendering you wholly vulnerable and defenceless.

The embodiment of danger ─ Lee Heeseung.

Fortunately for you, Heeseung has no intention of harming you, not that he ever had. A single movement from you as you stir lightly in your slumber captures his keen eyes, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest before re-centering his attention on your angelic face.

Without a doubt, your divine beauty captivated his attention from the moment he saw you entering the auditorium on your first day as a freshman, and still do ─ your naturally long dark lashes fluttering with your eyes gleaming genuine interest whenever your attention is fixed on something or someone, the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile, your luscious pink lips that entice him to kiss you, your soft wavy hair that is currently spread out in tendrils-like, and just every inch and part of your contour is perfect to him.

You are perfect in his eyes. So, so perfect, and so his…

In the beginning, it started out as an infatuation, completely ensnared by your captivating beauty and the regal ambience you exuded in the way you carried yourself with grace, while his eyes would follow you wherever you were in his range. He even vividly memorised your habits, which he found endearing, like how you would fiddle with the silver cross and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth whenever you grew nervous or simply worried over your results, and nevertheless, he knew that you would always excel.

You are the epitome of beauty with a brain, as you truly are. Oh, you are unequivocally his dream woman.

Unlike his peers, Heeseung has never found any issue with your reputation as Crestview Meadow’s good girl or renowned for being faithful and dutiful to your religion. Rather, he loves the purity glowing in the way you smile, your sparkling eyes, your infectious laughter, your gentle touch, and just anything you do.

From there, the infatuation evolved into something so profound that he knew he couldn’t afford to let you go, even after graduating from university. He yearns for his presence to be permanently etched in your life. He is not exaggerating when he says that all hell will break loose if he ever loses you. No, he feels that he might actually die at the grim possibility of losing you.

To this day, it astounds him that he manages to abstain from pursuing you first after all these years of his yearning and lust for you, especially when the light in you is a constant magnetic allure to his darkness. Even now, a gravitational pull seems to draw him closer and closer to you until he finally halts his steps, looming over you next to the bed.

Heeseung crouches down on one knee, his eyes remaining fixated on your serene countenance as he grabs strands of your hair that feel soft on his callous hand. His touch is one of reverence as he raises your strands in his possession to his nose, inbreathing the fragrance of your shampoo with his eyes fluttering close.

Even your scent is enough to tame his raging tenebrosity. Bringing your soft strands to his lips as he kisses them daintily, a distinct recollection comes to light ─ one that has the darkness perilously lurking in the trenches of his wreckage mind.

“Have you called for me, father?”

Heeseung has his hands clasped behind his back while his cold countenance is impassive and his stance embodies that of a soldier ready to serve, standing across from his father, who remains seated in his ebony swivel chair.

“Yes.” The elder ceases his engrossment in the paperwork before he finally diverts his attention to his youngest son, meeting Heeseung’s steely eyes that reflect the same as his. “I heard that Devil’s Night will commence in a few days' time. How is the preparation coming along?”

“Everything is going smoothly. You don’t have to concern yourself with anything regarding Devil’s Night, father.” A certain edge in Heeseung’s tone is not dismissed by the elder, amplifying the palpable tension between them. “As for the roadblocks, we might have to expand─”

“Son.” The sheer authority of a single interruption is enough to silence Heeseung, especially when he notices his father’s grim countenance. “The sole reason I called you here is because of Y/N Kang.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows arch inquisitively while his frown deepens at the fact that his father knows of your existence. “How do you know her?”

“It doesn’t matter how I know her.” His father dodges the question deftly, overshadowed by the austerity in his manner. “Under no circumstances should you approach the girl, let alone foist terror on her.”

Heeseung blinks his eyes, clearly taken aback by the elder’s fierce conviction. “All this time, you have never interfered in any of my business, so why now?”

Heeseung’s father heaves a sigh as he rubs his temple. “Son─”

“For that matter, you’ve never cared enough about me. I don’t see why it is necessary for you to involve yourself in whatever I do now.” Heeseung cuts him off sharply before he scoffs out a smirk, staring at him condescendingly. “And now that you’ve mentioned Y/N Kang, perhaps I should invite her to Devil’s Night and include her in the hunt.”

“Lee Heeseung!” The resounding thud due to both palms on the surface of the mahogany table as well as the patent wrath emanating from the elder doesn’t deter Heeseung the slightest, but rather, this only fuels Heeseung’s resolution to go against his father’s audacious warning.

“Do enlighten me, father.” Mockery drips from Heeseung’s tone. “What relations do you have with Y/N? And why her out of all people?”

The fleeting sentiment flickers in his father’s eyes are intelligible, to which Heeseung’s piqued curiosity reaches its peak. Why in the world would his father bear such guilt?

“She’s the daughter of─” His father pauses, and the hesitation in his silence is crystal clear. He shakes his head before allowing the austerity to patch up on his countenance. “This is a direct order, not only as your father but as the chief, that under no circumstances should you prey on Y/N Kang. She is better off without you having to impose your corruption on her.”

“Oh, but on the contrary, I will.” Heeseung unfurls a cynical smile on his lips, his tone holding dark promises that not even his father can decipher the conniving schemes he may or may not possibly have formulated in his complex mind. “Even if you hadn’t mentioned her, it wouldn’t change the fact that she would eventually be preyed on by us. Oh, and father?”

Heeseung looms ominously over his father’s seated figure, his dark gaze penetrating into the elder’s, allowing him to catch a glimpse of unadulterated malignance in his eyes. “I’ll turn a blind eye to your audacity in ordering me to stay away from my beloved, since after all, you’re my father.”

“Lee Heeseung─”

“Y/N Kang belongs to me.” Heeseung cuts him off with a growl. “She will be mine, one way or another, and it would be wise for you to avoid meddling with my business, especially involving my beloved.”

“Son, listen to me.” Even as his father uses his authoritarian tone, it isn’t enough to dissuade Heeseung as the latter begins to make his departure from his father’s office, leaving the elder to resort to an option that is rather perilous. “Fine. Do you really want to know the reason? It’s because I’d hate for Y/N to end up like that poor girl.”

Just as the elder expected, Heeseung comes to an abrupt halt, his body flinches visibly as though a trigger button has set off within him. “What?” His tone denotes a warning, akin to a ticking bomb.

His father heaves a deep sigh as he rises from his seat. “This is the exact same pattern as it was before. Did you or did you not develop an obsession for the girl just as you do now with Y/N? Feel free to prove me wrong.”

Heeseung curls his hand into a fist while the other clutches the handle in a deadly grip. “You’re wrong, father.”

“Am I, really? As far as I’m aware, things won’t ever bode well for anyone closely associated with you and your friends.”

“Shut up.” Heeseung snarls coldly, the anger is brimming in his veins. “You know nothing.”

But the elder continues, “Can’t you see, son? For as long as you remain unchanged with your corruptive tendencies, you destroy everything you touch! Just look at what happened three years ag─”

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung swiftly throws the melee knife as it cuts through the air sharply, gusting past his father’s head and impaling on the bulletin board behind the elder.

Despite his father having expected such unpredictable stunts from his son, his heart hammers violently against his chest. If Heeseung had missed, the elder would have probably lost an eye.

“You know better than to bring that up.” Heeseung’s dark eyes are void of any forbearance, while his tone is eerily calm. His eyes flicker at his melee knife before returning to his father’s unwavering gaze, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “And next time, I won’t miss it.”

Even the mere thought of his father is enough to kindle his burning resentment towards him. Oh, Heeseung loathes his father for as long as he can remember.

Despite the fact that his father has an esteemed reputation as the Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, almost everyone is fearful of him purely out of reverence, well, except Heeseung anyway.

To Heeseung, he sees his father as nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a husband to his wife. Correction: ex-wife, aka Heeseung’s biological mother. His parents divorced and went their separate ways when he was twelve, and his older brothers were sixteen. His father won custody over them, resulting in his mother leaving them behind. At that point in time, Heeseung didn’t understand the rationale behind their divorce since his parents used to be a loving couple, and so he began to develop such abhorrence for his father, especially when the elder decided to marry someone new a few months later.

Most importantly, Heeseung loathes that his father’s morality and advocacy do nothing to change the fact that the elder remains a hypocrite after the discovery Heeseung uncovered. It is also the exact reason why he has every intention of obscuring the truth from you, because the said discovery obliquely involves you.

A single movement from you pulls him out of his rumination, prompting his eyes to settle on your figure as you stir in your slumber. He holds your strands delicately, inbreathing your fragrance, which has been imprinted on his mind, once more before he decides to move away from you.

The longer your vulnerability remains at his disposal, the harder it is for him to defy his depravity.

As Heeseung saunters towards the ajar door, it is slowly being pushed open, revealing Jay. The latter doesn’t look entirely surprised at Heeseung’s presence in his room, as his face is devoid of emotion.

When their eyes meet, there is an unspoken understanding between them. Giving Heeseung a firm head nod, Jay proceeds to amble past him as he heads towards you.

“Jay?” Your slumberous voice prompts Heeseung to look over his shoulder, watching as Jay adjusts himself to settle next to you while your hand sluggishly reaches out for Jay.

“I’m here, baby.” Jay whispers affectionately as he grabs your hand.

Heeseung silently watches the two of you, seeing how adorably whiny you are amidst your somnolence, with your limbs now tangled with his as Jay cradles you close to his chest.

Oddly enough, Heeseung doesn’t harbour any raging jealousy or resentment towards his best friends, whom you have grown unmistakably attached to. Sure, in the very beginning, he utterly despised every stare at you from the other guys and bore murderous thoughts of gauging out their eyeballs, but now, when it comes to his best friends, he doesn’t feel as deeply murderous.

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that they have successfully ensnared you with their distinctive dark allures, tainting you with their corruption, as everything is going according to how he envisioned it, which he is pleased with.

All that is left is the very devil, as it remains in its slumber, who has long since waited for you.

The monotony of keyboards collectively typing away is teeming in the cold, sterile examination hall, with each journalism major in their assigned seats that are meticulously arrayed. Minutes have stretched into an hour or so, and thus, your immersion begins to wane as your mind drifts off to the thought of the very three men whom you are undoubtedly head over heels for.

Just yesterday, Sunghoon and Jake managed to spend time together with you, almost involving something rather blasphemous, until Jay decided to steal you away from them, which resulted in their squabbling. Now, you wonder if there will ever be a moment where they will set aside their petty dispute over who gets to have you in his possession before the others get their turn.

Your eyes begin to subconsciously wander to your fellow peers across the hall before they stop at Wonyoung and Winter, who are seated in the same row from across the hall. Instinctively, the familiar sadness coils around your heart before a stab of regret comes.

Although it has only been a few days since you last spoke, it feels as though it’s been one miserable year instead. A part of you still harbours resentment for their hypocrisy, but the sensible part of you yearns for your best friends.

You know for yourself that your close association with the leaders is the reason why your best friends have begun hating you, but perhaps there are some truths in their words. You have changed, and you admit that at times you don't even recognise yourself. So how dare you even bear a single yearning thought about the ones who only wanted the best for you?

You shake your head before deciding to direct your focus on finishing off the last paragraph, but your eyes betray your focal point as they sweep over to the guy adorned in a familiar black cap, and to make it worse, he’s seated across from you.

The only guy who has ever been academically on par with you consistently throughout your university years, and the one who daunts you the most, is none other than Lee Heeseung.

You should really look away before he catches you overtly staring at his side profile, but how can you not? Especially when the bill shadowing his striking features does nothing to veil his handsomeness.

Your eyes begin to trace the outline of his features, admiring his perfectly chiselled nose bridge, his dark lashes, his lips, whose bottom lip is adorned with a metal lip ring, silver studs and drop earrings adorning his earlobes, and the black ink tattooed in his skin at the side of his neck with an interesting design of an intricate chipped sword.

Heat creeps up from your neck to your ears. He is undeniably a sinful sight for you to behold.

It appears that he must have felt the intensity of your gaze on him as he turns his head only to lock your eyes with his, and that is also when realisation hits you like a brick of the very reason why you have always felt perturbed around him.

The intensity of his dark eyes alone is enough to knock the breath out of you. You want to look away, but it is as if his allure manages to paralyse you. Your eyes flicker down at a movement of his lips, unfurling a soft smirk, and your heart does a tiny leap.

Damn it. That’s the thing about Heeseung ─ even his bare minimum manages to have an impact on you. Despite his notorious reputation, his dark yet mystifying allure always seems to draw people in, and as much as you hate to admit it, he draws you in just the same, like a moth to a flame.

However, unlike the others, you refused to indulge your inquisitiveness and chose the safest route, which involved keeping your distance from Heeseung. That is, until recently. You recall his touch on your skin and how he whispered in your ear the other day when you were seeking Jay. You shudder lightly. Everything about him screams devilish.

For a moment there, you knew that you wanted him to touch you in the way his best friends do, despite the danger beneath his touch.

You force yourself to break eye contact with him and finally focus on typing away your last paragraph before submitting your exam paper online. Just like some of your fellow peers, you begin packing your belongings into your bag, trying your utmost to ignore Heeseung’s invasive gaze on your figure that continues to unnerve you.

In your peripheral vision, you see him standing up as he too has submitted his, and so your every movement becomes rapid before you finally navigate your way to the exit, walking past other students who are probably finding your briskness odd.

You are too inattentive to your surroundings to even feel self-conscious of the stares you are getting, only recalling Heeseung’s predatory gaze earlier, and just the thought of Heeseung alone manages to plague your cluttered mind.

It’s not just his predatory gaze, but it’s the fact that you feel as though he is able to read through you and invade every corner of your mind, uncovering any secrets you have and unravelling them one by one.

You have long since admitted that Lee Heeseung, the son of the esteemed Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, terrifies you despite the fact that his handsomeness often enthrals you, especially after putting the final piece of the puzzle that he is indeed one of your predators on Devil’s Night. White.

Although you have every intention of avoiding being closely associated with Heeseung, you know that it is impossible, especially when he lives in the same palace as the others. Plus, you have a gut-twisting feeling that he’ll begin his approach just as his best friends did.

Besides, your very first mistake was attending Devil’s Night, where you finally interacted with the mask version of him. Your second mistake was allowing him to touch you and invade your personal space.

You hope you’ll be proven wrong and that you’re just being delusional to think he would ever waste his time on you. You already have too much on your plate ─ the unresolved issue with your parents and your best friends, your undeclared relationship status with the three guys, and the anonymous person….

‘Ding!’

You whip out your phone from your pocket, and a frown automatically pulls at your lips as you begin to read his text. Just when you thought he wouldn’t send you anymore cryptic messages.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Congratulations on finishing your last exam. Any plans for vacation?

A scoff falls past your lips. Unbelievable. Not only did his last text still give you the creeps, but the audacity of him to act as if nothing happened. Each tap on your phone screen gets progressively more aggressive as you type out your response, expressing your irritation for him.

Y/N: I didn’t realise you could start casually texting me as if you were my friend. If you still don’t get the hint, leave me alone, Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Still insisting that I’m Heeseung? Y/N: Unless you prove to me that you’re not him, then yes. UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I posed no threat to you. Y/N: I doubt that I can consider you as a friend. UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can be your friend only if you choose to be cooperative with me. Besides, don’t you need one? Considering your friends have already abandoned you.

Your nose flares slightly, angered by the fact that he hits your sore spot.

Y/N: I don’t need you as my friend. UNKNOWN NUMBER: But you do need me, especially when it concerns your safety.

Just before you have the intention to block him, you halt, now standing in the busy forum with bustling students that fade into insignificance as his words strike a chord in you.

Y/N: My safety? Why do you care so much about me? UNKNOWN NUMBER: Like I said, before, you’re a nice girl, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.

You frown, confusion plastered on your face as you slowly amble forward. You don’t recall him telling you that.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Plus, I don’t want history to repeat itself. Y/N: What kind of history? UNKNOWN NUMBER: You don’t know? Ah, right. Everything was swept under the rug. Y/N: Just get straight to the point or I’ll block you for real. UNKNOWN NUMBER: For now, you only need to know that they’re not good people. Y/N: And you are? UNKNOWN NUMBER: I never said anything about me being good, but one thing is for sure is that I’m not the bad guy in your story, sweetheart. Y/N: I’m getting really annoyed at you. You keep beating around the bush and playing with words, but I still don’t feel at ease despite your declaration.

You wait for his response, but nothing happens. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperate for answers to allay your inner turmoil.

Y/N: Stop messing with my sanity

But before you can press send, you bump into someone’s shoulder, causing an imbalance for you as you almost fall back if it weren’t for reflexive hands steadying you.

There is a flicker of surprise in your eye as you stare at him while your cheeks flush pink. “Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu eyes you concernedly, still holding you by the waist. “Are you alright? I’m sorry for bumping into you.”

“No, it was my fault.” You exhale, chuckling nervously as you regain composure.

Beomgyu seems to study your expression while you begin to feel self-conscious of his invasive eyes, reminding you of Heeseung earlier. “Something on your mind? You were looking down at your phone the whole time.”

Your eyebrow arches inquisitively. “Were you watching me?”

Something so cryptic flickers in his eyes fleetingly before a soft smile forms on his charming countenance. “No. I just have quick observational skills.” He merely jests.

“Oh,” Even conversing with Beomgyu does nothing to pull you out of your distraught thoughts. You offer him a nimble smile. “Sorry about that. I have to go.”

“Wait.” Beomgyu’s hand latches around your wrist just as you brush past him. When you look at him, he appears rather bashful. “Since exam season is over, do you have anything in your schedule?”

“Maybe.” You answer slowly, uncertain if you actually do have plans other than rotting in your bed. “Why?”

“Well, the guys and I will be going for a two day, one night staycation at the water play park near the resort of Yeonjun’s parents’ business tomorrow.” Beomgyu looks hopeful, and you can almost imagine his ears perking up in a puppy-like way. “Do you want to join us?”

“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Nervousness seeps through your chuckles. “But I’m not sure─”

“She’s not available.” A familiar voice startles you, followed by his arm wrapping around your shoulder, which has you turning your head and staring at him in disbelief while he remains casual about it as he maintains eye contact with Beomgyu. “She’ll be with me for the next few days or so.”

What?! You are certain he is able to hear your disbelieving scream echoing in your head as your eyes narrow at the smirk playing on his lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu tucks his clenched fist into his pocket while adorning an amiable grin at his close friend. “Ah, that’s too bad, then. I would have invited you and the others to join us too, Heeseung.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” If anything, Heeseung is most definitely not apologetic in his nonchalance.

Beomgyu offers the two of you a tight smile. “Have fun, you two. Gotta enjoy our deserving vacation.”

Heeseung reciprocates with a cold smirk. “Damn right, we do.”

“Wait─” But your voice is unheard as Heeseung pulls you with him, brushing past Beomgyu. The space between you and Heeseung is practically nonexistent, allowing you to get a whiff of his strong cologne.

First of all, you are greatly annoyed by Heeseung’s brazen intervention. Second of all, he smells so good that you want to bask in his scent. Third of all, what the hell just happened?

“Heeseung.” You try to get his attention, but the guy seems persistent in dragging you with him until you finally gain full awareness of your surroundings, noticing that you’re in the campus parking lot.

The familiar sight of his sleek black Audi greets you as he slowly releases you from his possession. Before you can finally say your piece, his gesture of opening the passenger door for you renders you flabbergasted, despite the confusion lingering in your mind.

You blink your eyes at him while his face is devoid of emotion. “Get in.”

He sounds nothing like how he conversed with Beomgyu earlier. His voice is a low rumble that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. His tone indicates no objections from you. His penetrating dark eyes into yours is a challenge for you if you dare to defy him.

Refusing to show him that you are greatly intimidated by him, your titled chin is a hint of defiance as you maintain eye contact with him, but even you know for yourself that your shaky pupils are out of fear for the glowering male.

“No.”

“No?” Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at you, finding your resistance oddly adorable. He scoffs out a chuckle, his lips upturning a smirk, while his tongue glides across his bottom lip as he moves closer to you. “I wasn’t asking, sweetheart.”

You try your utmost not to falter at the close proximity between your faces while the tip of his hat nearly hovers over your head with how he is leaning down to you. The danger lurking in his eyes sends your heart palpating. But you remain adamant. “And why should I listen to you?”

“Because I said so.” Heeseung says so softly, a deception you recognise. The smirk remains on his lips. “Come on, now. Don’t disappoint me. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

The moment his thumb touches your bottom lip, it feels like you have lost the ability to speak. With his dark eyes pinning yours, he caresses your lip sensually while your head is spinning due to the effect he has on you.

“Get inside the car now, sweetheart.”

This time, you decide to heed his words, listening to your better instinct. Settling in the passenger seat awkwardly, you watch as he closes the door and proceeds to switch on the ignition.

With both hands on the leathered steering wheel, he takes a quick glance at you, noticing your discomfort in the stiffness of your body language while you gaze at the window before he refocuses on driving out of the campus parking lot.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m driving you to your doom.” His lighthearted comment does nothing to alleviate the taut tension in your shoulders. “Also, you should keep your distance from Beomgyu.”

A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips as you finally direct your focus on him. “And why should I listen to you?”

Heeseung’s demeanour remains indifferent, his eyes not meeting yours. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“You don’t know what’s good for me.” You retort rather haughtily, but the second his dark eyes meet yours fleeting as the vehicle comes to a stop, you deflate, fiddling mindlessly with your fingers as your hands are resting on your lap. “Sorry.”

You inwardly wince at your feeble apology when you know that you have nothing to apologise for, yet you did anyway. You lower your gaze. “You said to trust you, but I don’t trust you in the slightest, Heeseung. For that matter, we’re not even friends.”

“You’re right. We’re not friends.” His fingers grip your chin firmly, titling your head up. A soft smile unfurls on his lips. “Because you’re more than that to me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask quietly, confusion wrapping around your head, yet at the same time, you kind of have a sense of what he meant. A part of you is just afraid to acknowledge it, knowing that if you do, you’ll most likely be inclined to succumb to his dark magnetic allure.

Heeseung simply disregards your question as he redirects his attention on the road, now driving on the familiar route to your dormitory. As much as you want him to elaborate himself, you decide to save your energy, resorting to silence and looking forward to keeping your distance from him.

Finally arriving at the entrance point, you unbuckle your seatbelt, eager to flee from him, but as you attempt to open the door, it remains locked. You shoot him a perplexing stare. “Heeseung.”

“I won’t unlock it unless you have to give me your word that you’ll keep your distance from Beomgyu first.” Heeseung admonishes, his tone indicating no room for refusal.

“But why?” You press, unconcealing your frustration. “He has been nothing but nice to me. What do you even have against him? I thought he’s your close friend.”

The sentiments glinting in his eyes are indecipherable, leaving you to wonder about the complexity of his mind. “He’s not someone you should be around with every so often.” He states calmly.

“Oh, and you are?” You ask sardonically, mustering a smile that displays your sarcasm. “Seriously, Heeseung, I don’t know what makes you think that I would listen to you, but if this is you being concerned for me, don’t be. We don’t even have any relation to each other. So you can drop this pretence of yours, because I’m not about to fall for whatever trap you set up.”

Cold silence shrouds both of you as you remain in a heated staring contest with him before you spot a movement, though subtle. Just the slightest movement of his jaw clenching is what it takes for you to discern his annoyance for you before trailing your eyes back to his dark ones. You swallow harshly, moistening your dry throat.

“Heeseung─”

“You should go.”

The sound of the door unlocking startles you. You look at him, noticing him turning his head away from you. Oddly, guilt strings in your heart at the probability of hurting Heeseung with your words.

“Fine, I’ll keep my distance from Beomgyu.” You find yourself acquiescing, and you genuinely have no idea why, but maybe you’d hate for Heeseung to remain disappointed in you. Upon receiving no response from him, you huff pettily. “Thanks for the ride, anyway.” You mutter dryly as you open the door.

Just as your foot steps out of the car, his voice pulls you back. “You should stay over at the palace since we’re on a long break before graduation. Plus, I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to have you there.”

You look over your shoulder, a mask of indifference on his face. “Can I, really?”

Heeseung hums lazily, the corner of his lips tipping up a smirk. “Sweetheart, you are more than welcome. Besides, the closer you are to us, the better.”

Something stirs in your tummy. “I’ll think about it.”

“Please do, and I hope you’ll make your decision soon.” Heeseung takes you by surprise as he grabs your hand tenderly and raises it up to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckle, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. “Even better if you decide to show up by the entrance gate tonight.”

“Hee...” His name is uttered in a whisper as you watch him press a kiss on your fingertip. You were right. His pink lips feel so soft.

“I’m sure you must’ve felt so lonely in your dorm.” Heeseung states knowingly, still holding your hand tenderly. As he places one last yet sensual kiss on your palm, your heart flutters at his darkened eyes pinning yours and the smirk curving at his lips. “At the palace, you won’t ever have to feel so alone, because you have us to give you whatever you need, pretty girl.”

Any negative thoughts you have about Heeseung instantly dissipate as you succumb to his magnetic allure. Disappointment seeps through you at the loss of his touch.

“Go on, pretty.” If you told your freshman self that in a few years, your rival would call you pretty, she wouldn’t believe it.

Heeseung was right. Ever since your association with the leaders has been divulged, it ensued to sever your friendship with your friends, including the ones whom you thought would be okay with the alteration in you, and thus, you began to feel a profound sense of loneliness.

Initially, you didn’t want to admit that you had missed your girl companionships, but what Heeseung said to you earlier struck a chord in you. Damn right, you feel lonely. How could you not be when your roommates often had the other girls over for dinner or simply fun hangouts? Or when your roommates were huddled on the couch as they watched some dramas. You used to do all of that with them, minus the drinking session.

Of course, you could’ve joined them and pushed your ego aside, but what held you back was the not-so-discreet stares and even glares from the girls whenever you went out of your room to grab something from the fridge or simply the audacious sight of you in their vision.

Just like earlier, when Karina, Yunjin, and Wonyoung were gathered by the kitchen island, laughter filling the air promptly ceased and hostility returned at the sight of you walking past them.

Did it hurt? Yeah, it did, but your face often remained devoid of emotions, contradicting the sentimentality that ached in your heart. Perhaps what hurts you the most is the fact that they will always be fine with or without you. Heck, they even look happier now that you’re out of the picture.

Hence, it is exactly why the firm decision you made leads you to the very palace you have grown rather fondly attached to, despite the traumatic memories of Devil’s Night that are embedded in your mind.

You press on the button cemented on the veneered wall next to the grand golden gates for the second time before looking up at the outdoor CCTV camera and raising your hand to give it an awkward wave while a sheepish smile forms on your lips.

Nevermind the fact that you look like an idiot at the moment. You hope that at least someone is inspecting through this CCTV camera since your impatience denotes your avidity for seeing the three men who now occupy your mind and heart.

Your lips flatten as the gate remains unopened, but before you can press the button for the third time, your ears perk up at the sound of blaring exhausts emanating from motorbikes, prompting you to turn around just to see three bikers approaching the gate.

Naturally, you assume that they’re Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, but your excitement dwindles as soon as you are able to distinguish their figures while one of them pushes up his visor. Your shoulders go slouched, crestfallen.

“Why the long face, darling?” Sunoo’s fox-like eyes meet yours, his tone a teasing taunt. “Disappointed that we’re not the ones you thought we were?”

You shift uncomfortably as their attention is fixed on you. Deciding to be courteous, you offer Sunoo a small yet wry smile in response.

“What are you doing here?” Riki’s deep voice is conspicuous despite the unremitting blaring of their engine’s exhaust.

After a brief silence, you begin to speak up. A tinge of nervousness is evident in your tone. “Heeseung said I was welcome to stay over, so here I am.” You smile awkwardly, uncertain of the expression plastered on their faces due to their helmets.

Jungwon pushes his visor up, allowing you to meet his striking feline-like eyes. “Heeseung, huh?” In the way he speaks, you can discern his melding of curiosity and mischief.

“Heeseung and the others are not back yet.” Sunoo informs you as he releases his grip from the clutches to adjust his fingerless black gloves, leaning back slightly. “You should’ve called and informed them of your coming here.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You mumble as your lips go pouty, something rather habitual whenever you feel sulky. You become startled at the tolling sound of the gates opening.

“Come on, then.” Jungwon makes a gesture, beckoning you over to him. “You’re lucky we have authorisation access to enter the palace.”

Not too long later, you find yourself seated on the motorbike behind Jungwon, one hand gripping Jungwon’s broad shoulders for support while the other clutching the strap of your shoulder bag as he drives alongside Sunoo and Riki to the route of the massive garage that eventually greets your vision.

"So, were you guys with them?” You break the ice as soon as you dismount from Jungwon’s motorbike.

“Kind of.” Jungwon answers your question as he removes his helmet, whereas Riki, being the usual nonchalant he is, decides to head inside first. “We were just riding around town with them before they headed off somewhere.”

“Why? Worried that they’re with other girls?” Sunoo shoots you a lopsided grin, and his eyes twinkle teasingly at your sour expression. “I’m kidding. They only have eyes for you, darling.”

You huff annoyedly at him before returning your attention to Jungwon, whom you find more tolerable than the blond-haired one. “So what are you guys doing here? I know for a fact that you don’t live here.”

“Riki left something of his, but we also want to hang out here for a bit before the Hyungs decide to kick us out.” There is a knowing glint in Jungwon’s eye. “Especially since you’re here.”

Sunoo saunters forward and slings his arm around Jungwon’s neck. “It looks like you’ll be staying here overnight.” Sunoo points out with a pout on his lips, noticing your shoulder bag. “You’re privileged, you know? The fact that you have your very own personalised room here─”

“Wait, my own room? Here?” You cut him off, a genuine surprise tinges in your tone.

“You don’t know?” Sunoo raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you while a frown tugs at his lips. “All the while you’ve been here, they’ve never shown you to your room?”

“No.” You answer slowly, your cheeks warming as you avoid their gaze. “But why? I didn’t think I needed one since I was always in either of their rooms.”

“Well, now that you know, you should really count yourself lucky.” Jungwon scoffs out a smirk, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Jay so fucking smitten over a girl before, until you.”

“Come on! I’ll show you to your room.” Sunoo offers his arm to you, and despite him always putting you off, you don’t hesitate to hook your arm around his bicep before he proceeds to guide you, with Jungwon trailing behind.

“I’m just going to ignore the fact that you got to see my room before I did.” You shoot him a playful scowl, to which he reciprocates with his tongue sticking out to you before he takes you by surprise as he maintains the conversation flowing despite the occasional banter bounces off between the two of you.

All the while, Jungwon remains totally silent behind you as you ascend the stairs, and you have grown comfortable with your arm around Sunoo’s. Reaching the second floor, you get startled at the sight of Riki in a newly designed purple mask.

Sunoo, who feels your body jolting in surprise, narrows his eyes at the tall male. “Not the right time to scare her, Riks.”

“I wasn’t.” Riki tilts his head, confusion lacing his tone. He points his index finger at his face. “Check it out. My new mask for the next Halloween season.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sunoo rolls his eyes uninterestedly at him before giving you a lopsided smile and changing his tone. “Your room’s one level away. Let’s go, darling.”

“Jungwon.” Riki calls out for him, prompting the latter to head over to him while Sunoo continues to guide you.

If there is one thing about Sunoo, it is that he is chattier than you expect him to be. Even when you’re already out of capacity to keep up with his ongoing chatter, he manages to be entertained by your silence.

“Here we are.” Sunoo chirps as both of you are standing in front of a cream-coated door.

Your loosening arm around his eventually falls to your side while you stare at the door with incredulity, doubts lingering in your mind. “Are you sure this is not a prank?”

“Trust me, darling, if I wanted to prank you, I would’ve already pushed you off into a pool filled with piranhas.”

You gasp at him, your eyes widening in horror, whereas Sunoo seems so laid-back, with a grin adorning his face. “I would hardly call that a prank.”

“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t dare prank you that involves your safety, or else they’ll have my head.” Sunoo chuckles, his body leaning towards you to boop your nose with his finger. “Do make yourself comfortable. If you need us, we’ll be somewhere at the arcade or the bar for the next hour, most probably.”

Sunoo brushes past you, leaving you to fight against your doubt momentarily before you heave a sigh and decide to enter the room that you can now call yours. As soon as you step in and switch on the light, a soft gasp leaves your lips while your eyes twinkle in wonderment at the lovely sight of your room.

The white-painted wall makes the room look rather spacious than it already is. A queen-sized bed presses up against the wall with an interesting white shell-designed headboard, and the sheets are in pastel pink. You can’t help but release soft chuckles, spotting Sanrio soft toys arrayed horizontally on the bed.

You continue to admire every detail of the room as you saunter forward. By the window sill, there is ample space for three people to sit on top of the cushion. There is also a walk-in closet room, to which you keenly head inside and switch on the light, only to be greatly shocked at the fact that the wardrobes have already been supplied with a variety of clothes and even shoes and some high heels on each shelf.

All the while, you are rendered speechless as you exit the closet room and move over to the vanity desk, pulling one of the drawers filled with familiar cosmetic products that have been arranged rather meticulously, to which you smile softly as you have a sense of Jay’s touch on them.

“So I take it that you like your room, then?”

Your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sound of his voice, prompting you to turn around and see him by the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he leans sideways against the frame.

Your eyes rake all over his appearance, while heat creeps up on your cheeks as you do so. His magenta-red-dyed hair looks dishevelled, enticing you to adjust it. The black leather jacket hugs his lean physique perfectly, as it looks taut, and you recall that pool party where you finally saw the full view of his bare upper body.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your cheeks remain blushing upon being aware that you were blatantly checking him out, and to make it worse, he notices it too, as evident in the way he smirks at you. “I’m sorry for entering without permission, but Sunoo─”

“Don’t apologise. This is your room, after all.” Heeseung cuts you off firmly, but a tinge of softness is apparent in his tone. As he ambles towards you, his eyes remain intently fixed on you, making you feel self-conscious about the way you look. “It’s not much, but I do hope you like it.”

“Not much? Heeseung, giving me a room of my own in this palace is already generous enough of you guys.” The earnest gratitude in your tone sends a wave of assurance to his nerves, despite his coolly collected demeanour. Your eyebrows are softly knit together in perplexity. “But why? And whose idea was it?”

“It was mine, and the other guys were more than on board with it.” Heeseung stops in front of you with very little distance, and instead of recoiling due to the intimidation emanating from him, you remain rooted to your spot while your eye contact with him persists.

“Really?” You feel something flutter in your heart as you look at the man in front of you in a different light.

Heeseung melodious soft chuckles only seem to intensify that flutter. “You should’ve seen them on the same day I brought up the idea of you having your own room in the palace. They bought everything and anything they could recall about you and your likes.”

“I can see that.” Your eyes form the shape of a crescent as you join him, and your chuckles bring a pleased smile from him. “But Heeseung, you really didn’t have to. I’m sure it must’ve been hard work to arrange and decorate the room.”

“I wanted to.” Heeseung’s gesture of brushing fallen strands of your hair and tucking them behind your ear surprises you, as does the sincerity glinting in his eyes. “I wanted you to have a personal space for whenever you needed it. Your comfort matters to me most, sweetheart.”

“Heeseung, what am I to you?” Your voice barely above a whisper, and an air of vulnerability suspends around you. “I’m confused, Hee. Before this, we weren’t friends or acquaintances, and even now, I’m not entirely sure what I am to you.”

Heeseung simply smiles at you, the sentiments swimming in his eyes are inexplicable. His fingers stroke your cheek in an affectionate gesture while his features have completely softened, stirring foreign yet familiar emotions within you. “You’re my beloved.” He whispers.

“But─” Your voice disappears momentarily when he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he steps away from you.

“Good night, sweetheart.” He shoots you one last smile before turning his back on you, getting ready to leave your room.

You don’t know what takes you over, but you find yourself going after him, and once you’re nearer, your hand latches on his wrist. “Heeseung, wait.”

Heeseung turns around and raises an eyebrow at you, awaiting your words, but your next gesture startles him. Your arms slither around his neck before pulling him fully into your embrace.

“Thank you.” You say softly next to his ear while you ignore a twinge of disappointment in your chest as he doesn’t reciprocate your hug. “I appreciate everything you guys did.”

Just as you have every intention to back away, you feel his arms encasing your waist, pulling you closer until your body fully comes into contact with his. Your tummy remains in a fluttery mess, still refusing to believe that your academic rival of four years is hugging you fervently.

It takes everything for Heeseung to repress the darkness within him from engulfing you wholly, as he doesn’t wish for you to keep your distance from him, but fuck, you feel so undeniably right and perfect in his arms.

Heeseung has longed to hold you like this, and it is even better than how he imagined it. His cheek rests against the side of your head, and his nose lightly buries in your hair as he takes a whiff of your shampoo scent from your hair.

“Hee…” You utter his name softly, feeling his heartbeat against your chest that seems to be pounding erratically, and despite becoming wholly inhibited by the way he is hugging you as though he is hugging his lover, you know that you never want to let go of him.

After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung gives your crown a kiss, another gesture of his affection. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

This time, you don’t question the intimate endearment, still clinging to him as though he’s your salvation. You feel the back of his fingers caressing your head while you unfurl a soft smile on your lips, blissfully unaware of the devil you have just aroused.

The emphatic quietude in the palace only seems to discomfort you instead of providing some sort of placidity. Having been a regular here for as long as you can recall, you have grown eminently accustomed to the sporadic racket from the boisterous knights, so the absence of their essence feels strange to you.

What is even weirder is the fact that neither Jay, Jake, nor Sunghoon are by your side and are uncharacteristically clingy to you, which brings a small frown to your lips. Earlier, after freshening yourself up, you were expecting either of them to barge into your room, but none showed up, and so you ventured your way to their rooms just to be greeted by empty rooms.

Naturally, you expected the three of them to come back with Heeseung last night, so their stark absence confused you until you decided to send Jake a text only to receive his reply, ‘We’re going to be out of town for a while. Sorry, lovely, but we hope you like your new room!’ Of course, you feel a tad sulky since you had been hoping to spend more time with them.

Plus, you are not entirely certain if you really do get along with Heeseung. Sure, last night’s interaction with him felt awfully intimate, as did the fact that you initiated a skinship with him, but the turmoil in you persists at a single thought of the enigmatic Lee Heeseung, so what’s more to be anywhere in his vicinity?

Speaking of Heeseung, you have yet to see him anywhere, for which you are thankful. You are definitely not prepared to face him yet after what happened last night, especially the affectionate forehead kiss he gave you.

Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you recall, before you lightly pat your cheek to snap out of it and decide to resume walking down the familiar aisle of shelves with fictional books filled to the brim.

Presently, you are in the magnificent library filled with opulence and gold details embellished sublimely on every wall and turn, giving you a sense of simulation as though you are a princess wandering in your own royal library.

A faint smile touches your lips as you recall whenever Sunghoon calls you his princess while giddiness dances in your fluttery heart. It has only been a day, and yet you’re already missing Sunghoon and the others. You shake your head lightly before refocusing on reality again.

Your fingers remain mindlessly yet delicately stroking the spines of the books while your eyes are keenly surveying any book that piques your interest until they finally stop at a certain book, but it is one shelf higher.

With a determined huff, you stand on your tippy toes with your hand outstretched to reach and grab for the book, but your attempt is rather futile, and so you silently curse your height.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart.”

His soft, honeyed-dripping voice sends your heart doing a little flip while you stand frozen in your spot at the close proximity between you and him, allowing you to feel the heat emanating from his body. A movement above you captures your attention, prompting you to look up at his hand, reaching out for the book that piqued your interest with such ease.

“Here.” He lowers his hand for you to grab the book, and you do so hesitantly.

You turn around with the intention to thank him, and when you do, your voice disappears briefly as you scan his appearance, particularly his hair, which has been freed from his wonted cap or even beanie. The strands look longer than you remember as the length reaches below his brows, but they do nothing to obscure the distinct darkness in his eyes.

“Thank you.” You manage to utter a feeble gratitude, smiling at him awkwardly while shifting discreetly under the weight of his dark gaze.

“Have you eaten yet?” Heeseung asks, an unmistakable tenderness in his tone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart.

“I have.” You answer, feeling a tad sheepish that you did go through their fridge without asking for permission earlier. You notice satisfaction glinting in his eye before he takes you by surprise as he gently pats you on the head.

“Good. I’d hate for you to starve.” He mutters, and a smirk threatens to form on his lips upon seeing your cheeks getting rosier, knowing that his mere gesture has an effect on you.

“How did you know I was here?” You decide to strike up a conversation you hope is decent enough to dispel the awkwardness, but in all honesty, you can’t wait to flee from him.

“Sunghoon did tell me that if you’re not found anywhere in the palace, then you’d probably be in the library.” He divulges, giving you a soft smile that surprisingly allays your inner turmoil. “Besides, you love reading.”

You dismiss the fact that he knows about your love for books, which he must’ve known from Sunghoon as well. Silence hangs in the air painfully as you avoid his lingering gaze. “So... I'm just going to head off to read.” You tell him in a rather brusque manner before venturing your way out of the aisle to the centre of the library, where you would usually make yourself comfortable on one of the velvety couches and become engrossed in the reading.

A sense of deja vu washes over you as you settle on the velvety beige couch, bringing a small smile to your lips upon recalling Sunghoon having you perched on his lap with his arms caged around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder as he peered at the passages you were reading.

Before you can dwell further in your yearning for any of the three, you flip open the first chapter of the book and allow yourself to fall immersive in the fictional world, or at least you tried to, because it isn’t long before the sound of footsteps from behind you serves as a distraction, prompting you to slowly look up when a shadow looms over your figure.

With your head tilted up, your eyes meet Heeseung’s amused ones as he stares down at you with a sly smirk. “Shall we finally address the elephant in the room?” It seems to you that it’s more of a rhetorical question.

“There’s nothing to address.” You clip, redirecting your attention to the book, but even you know that it is hard to focus since the man behind you remains looming ominously over you.

You hear his soft yet lethal chuckles, emerging goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty.” For a split second, you swear you feel his fingers ghosting the skin of your exposed bare shoulder as you are adorned in a white spaghetti strap loose dress, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Hee─” The next thing you know, he snatches the book from your slack clutches, drawing a flabbergasted gasp from you, but then comes the vexation as you find yourself turning around with the intention to berate him. “That was rude, Lee Heeseung.”

Even as you stand on your knees, he still manages to tower over you. His eyes rake over your flustered countenance, greatly amused, as evident in the way his lips curve up at the fact that you resemble an angry kitten. A kitten he desires to tame and keep in his possession forever.

“Give it back.” You demand, swallowing the frightful lump in your throat at the familiar intimidation exuding from him while a deceptive smile plays on his lips.

“Now that I have your full attention, let’s start off with your avoidance.”

“My avoidance?” You scoff lightly, looking away from his steely eyes. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

His fingers seize your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eyes while your heart goes hammering against your chest at the explicable storms brewing in his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I loathe liars?”

“No..?” You attempt to jerk from his touch, but he only grips your chin tighter. “H-Heeseung...”

“I’m very upset with you, pretty.” A sigh of faux dejection elicits from him. “You got me confused with your mixed signals. One moment you act all friendly, and the next, you look at me with such animosity. The thought of you hating me truly disheartens me.”

“I don’t hate─” You pause as soon as he finally releases you.

“You know, I wanted to reward you for making my best friends happier than they've ever been.” His admission kindles a burning flame of inquisitiveness within you, but you know you ought to remain silent as he continues. “I’m sure you must’ve noticed that their personalities differ from one another, but in a way, they remain kindred souls who share the same pain that stemmed from the threshold of their dysfunctional family. So happiness was a sentiment so foreign and insignificant to them, until you happened.”

“I don’t understand.” You begin to speak out after a couple beats of silence as his words sink into your brain. Your eyes follow his measured movements as he moves around you. “They share the same pain? Does that mean Jake and Sunghoon were victims of parental abuse the way Jay experienced?”

Heeseung’s arched eyebrow denotes his surprise. “So you knew about Jay?”

You slowly nod your head despite the uncertainty. “He didn’t exactly tell me the details, but I knew enough.” A frown creases your complexion. “But Heeseung, how do you know about all of these?”

Something meaningful flickers in his eyes for a fleeting moment. “The four of us kind of grew up together since our fathers were best friends, but whatever happened behind the curtains of our lives was all divulged only between us. Plus, I saw some unpleasant sights.”

“Like?” You prod, but uneasiness spreads across your chest upon awaiting his answer.

Heeseung looks down at the book, flipping through the pages uninterestedly. “Like how Sunghoon’s father attempted to kill him by hiring a hitman three years ago.”

“What?” A disbelieving gasp leaves your gaping mouth, and when Heeseung meets your eyes, he merely smirks as he shuts the book closed with one hand.

“Of course, Sunghoon took care of the matter within a day, and on the same day, his father received a special gift from him.” Something so wicked glints in his eyes. “A gift of the hitman’s heart that Sunghoon carved it out himself.”

A part of you refuses to believe it, but you’ve already seen and known what they are capable of. Being ensnared in a whirlwind of conflict, you feel revolted at the fact that the very man who went to the extent of carving out an organ is the same man who touched, fucked, kissed, and held you in his warm embrace. The revelation also has you reflecting on the past interactions you had with Sunghoon ─ just how lucky you were that you didn’t end up dead for those moments where you dared to show your defiance to him.

“But why?” You ask, your voice shaking palpably while you attempt to conceal your fear. “Why would his own father do that? How could a father bear the thought of killing their own child?”

“It is rather complex, if I’m being honest.” Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, seeming almost nonchalant. “Out of the four of us, Sunghoon was blessed to grow up with doting parents who often showered him with love despite having other siblings compete for their affection. So the knowledge that his own father, whom he looked up to the most, loathed him to the point where he was willing to eradicate Sunghoon’s existence was more than upsetting.”

“Did─” Hesitation pulls you back, apprehensive to hear the answer. “Did Sunghoon kill his father as well?”

Heeseung merely hums, his face remains impassive. “No. Sunghoon decided that death was an easy way out for his father. He has other plans, I suppose.”

“What about Jay?” You didn’t mean to sound eager to know about their whole life story, or at least a partial part of it, but the three of them have never divulged to you anything regarding family, unlike you. “Those scars I saw and touched on his back…” Your eyebrows are softly knit together. “I couldn’t believe that a father would do that to his son.”

“Jongseong made it abundantly clear to us that his birth was unplanned. Thus, his parents grew to resent him because they never wanted a child.” Heeseung settles on the marbled-surface table directly in front of you, his eyes never leaving your curious ones. “The scars he got were from his fucked-up alcoholic father while his mother closed both her eyes to the abuse he went through, and because of them, Jongseong grew resentful and hateful, especially whenever a parental topic was brought up. You should’ve seen him before ─ he was even more vicious.”

You bring your knees close to your chest as you hug your legs. The distraught yet crestfallen look in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Heeseung. “So that’s why he─” You halt, pressing your lips thinly, before murmuring, “I can’t even imagine the pain he had to endure.”

Heeseung sets the book aside on the table, a passing fleet of cognisance in his eyes. “And I’m guessing you must’ve brought up something relating to his parents before, no?”

You avert your gaze elsewhere, obscuring the scintilla of guilt in your eyes from his sight. “I can’t say that we fought, but he did blow up on me because he didn’t believe that I truly cared for him when I─” You draw in a sharp inhalation at the stinging memory before casting Heeseung a feeble smile. “Never mind. It’s all water under the bridge now.”

You expect Heeseung to press onto the matter, but the flicker of understanding in his eyes evokes an inkling in you that he must’ve known what really happened, and it makes you feel uneasy at the plausible thought that everything that happened between you and them seems to have been reported to Heeseung for some reason.

“So now that’s left is our most beloved Sim Jaeyun.” Heeseung slants his body to the back with his palms on the cold, flat surface for support, while a knowing smirk plays on his lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but he is your favourite out of them, right?”

“He’s not─” It’s as if your tongue is tied at the instant denial urges you, rendering you dubious of your unbiased sentiments centred around them. Your fingers curl, forming a fist with which you clutch the teetering truth of coequal feelings beyond platonic for the three of them. A muscle pulses in your jaw. No, you’re not one to play favourites.

With your steel-determined eyes unwaveringly meeting him, you opt to pull a reverse uno card on him as you fold your arms below your chest. “What about you, then? I’m most certain he’s your favourite.”

Inquisitivity pulls an arch at his eyebrow. “What are you implying?” His soft tone belies the cryptic danger that parallels the brewing storms in his eyes, and you know you ought to tread carefully with your next words.

“There was once when Jay and Jake fought, but Sunghoon managed to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.” You allow your limbs to let loose, your hands settling on your lap politely. The movement of your teeth biting down on the plushness of your lips captures his eyes. “Initially, I heard them arguing, and your name was mentioned. Jay then told me about Jake breaking a code, and I’m guessing it was you whom he slept with.”

All the while, your cheeks are flushed as you look everywhere except his penetrating eyes. Truth be told, you were shocked when the revelation unravelled, and a twinge of upset came. It was not that you were against the plausible thought of them being queers, but you never wanted to be a catalyst in the relationship between them, be it platonic or romantic-wise. You clutch at the hem of your dress, nervously waiting in anticipation for his next words.

“You are right about one thing. He is my most favourite out of them, but our one-night stand was a drunken mistake.” The stark sincerity in his admission is unmistakable, prompting you to flutter your eyes at him. “It was during this period of time that he completely ghosted us. We were drunk and got caught up in a spur of the moment. Plus, he was being vulnerable even before he got drunk.”

“It’s okay, Hee. You don’t have to explain everything to me.” You assure him with a faint smile, while the nickname that leaves your lips has an impact on him.

“But I want to.” He counters firmly, his body leaning slightly forward. “You have to know that Jaeyun and I’s relationship is nothing beyond platonic.”

“I believe you, Hee.” You feel compelled to give him any form of assurance as you offer him a small smile, and yet dubiety remains lingering in your mind. “It’s just that... I don’t want to be the kind of person who ruins the relationship you have with him, or any of them for that matter.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” His tone is filled with affection as he grabs your hand to give your knuckle a chaste kiss, causing your heart to do a little flip at the gesture. “You could never be the one who ruined the relationship between us.” Because the ruined one in the end will be you, and you’ll come to depend on and cling to us as if we’re your salvation.

You slowly retract your hand from his touch as you clear your throat, intending to revert to the topic. “You mentioned Jaeyun ghosted you. He ghosted me too.” Your lips jut into a pout at the recollection. “Till this day, I have no idea what spurred him on. Even though he did apologise, he never really explained why he did what he did either.”

Heeseung knows this, of course, but he is not about to let it be known to you. “We wondered the same even after we reconciled, but upon some inspection, it turns out your loverboy has serious abandonment issues.” A lazy smirk touches his lips, and just as you are about to retort, he adds on, “I highly doubt that he already told you, but Jake, he’s been clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. His therapy can attest to that.”

You frown as you wrap the information around your head. “So his disorder correlates to why he did what he did?”

Heeseung sighs softly. “Look, I said all of those not as a means to justify his actions, but it’s for you to understand and know that no matter what frontage Jaeyun displays, he has a soft heart. He just needs a little loving and for the people he holds close to him to never abandon him.”

The air around you shifts drastically into something rather stifling as he leans forward while gazing deeply into your eyes, and you feel the connection between the two of you is ineffable. Your heart beats in a measured cadence that feels foreign yet familiar as he strokes your cheek tenderly.

“Can you promise me something, sweetheart?” He asks in a lulling whisper, and you find yourself getting lost in the abysmal depths of his enthralling eyes. “Promise me that you’ll stay by their side and continue to make them happy.”

“Yes.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the promise has plunged deep into your beating heart, firm in upholding it. “I never wanted to leave either.”

Heeseung unfurls a soft smirk on his lips upon hearing your admission, satisfied at the pellucid attachment you have to them and to him soon enough. “Such a good girllll.” He drawls, and you discern something shifting in him while your breath nearly hitches in your throat at his darkening eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”

Heeseung grabs the book and gives it to you. Confused, you decide to take it from him anyway. “What do you want me to do─”

As soon as he stands, looming over your seated figure, it feels as if you have lost the ability to speak as you tilt your head to look up at him. With a smirk on his handsome countenance, he leans down to you, one hand on the headrest behind you. “I want you to read from where you left off earlier.”

“Okay.” You acquiesce while your heart seems to gradually pound harder and harder, your eyes watching him attentively as he slowly backs away just slightly. “But why?”

He doesn’t respond, and instead, he crouches down on his knees in front of you, his hands touching your calves before moving them upwards tantalisingly slowly.

“W-What are you doing?” You stutter, a twinge of panic in your heart despite the racing anticipation that betrays your morality, or whatever is left.

Heeseung doesn’t stop, even as you squirm and attempt to push him away, earning you a disapproving tut from him. “I’m giving you your reward, sweetheart. Don’t you want that?”

“I-I─” Eventually, you relent from squirming and allow his hands to move underneath your dress with ease. “Heeseung.” You mutter his name weakly in defeat, feeling his fingers hooking around your underwear before he pulls it down until it leaves past your ankles.

Heeseung pries your legs open by force, rendering your lower region wholly exposed under the weight of his dark gaze. Effortlessly, he adjusts the position of your legs over his shoulders, leaving your legs to dangle behind him as he moves closer to you.

“Go on, pretty.” He leans down, his warm breath tickling your skin, before he places a sensual kiss on your inner thigh. “Read the book.”

You can’t seem to resist his command, and so you heed it, your trembling fingers clutching the book as you open and flip through the page that you left off. Your chest heaves up and down in anticipation as you feel his lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your inner thigh, scorching and burning.

How can you ever concentrate on reading just one paragraph when his lips feel closer and closer to the display of your bare cunt, which seems to betray your revulsion as it clenches at nothingness in anticipation?

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Just as his lips come into contact with your clit, a soft gasp elicits from you while your hips buck up at the sheer sensitivity. “Ahh, pretty angel is so sensitive, isn’t she?” He coos before taking you by a delightful surprise at the sensation of his wet muscle licking a long stripe of your slit.

“Hee─” You gasp as soon as his tender administration shifts into something that is ravenous, his tongue delving into the wonder of your wet cavity so deep, and yet each thrust and lick is executed with such precision that it has you rolling your eyes to the back. “Mmhmm, S-Seungie.”

His cock twitches beneath the confines of his slacks at how adorable you sound. The moans you so desperately try to muffle with your palm only seem to fuel his raging desire for you. “Keep reading the book, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out his command, sending pleasurable vibrations through your body.

You try, you really do, but how are you supposed to focus on reading when the man below you is lapping and ravaging your cunt as though it is his last meal?

His movements are uninhibited while his grip on your thighs only seems to tighten, getting utterly drunk on your pussy as his wet muscle is fucking into you wantonly, revelling in the lewd sound eliciting from your lips. Oh, he has dreamt of this moment.

“Seungie.” You whimper, your hips bucking up at the sensation of his pointed nose rubbing against your neglected clit. The book has fallen from your grasp, prompting you to muffle the lewd sound that spills from your lips with the back of your hand while tears well in your lower lids at the sheer intensity of his tongue fucking into your already drenched cunt that hurls you at the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Mmhmm fuck,” His gravelly, husky voice as he rasps against your wet folds sends your cunt pulsating, and his nose rubbing against your clit only seems to intensify the knot in your tummy. “You’re so soaked for me, sweetheart.”

Damn right, you are, and you’re not even cumming yet, but the slicks of your arousal leaking from your cunt are unmistakable as he wholeheartedly laps up everything that is not enough for his insatiable hunger for you.

“Please.” You pant lightly, your curve arching as you throw your head to the back with moans spilling from your lips, feeling his lips enveloping your aching clit with his tongue drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves and his cold, slender fingers plunging into your sopping cunt to fuck you hard.

“What are you pleading for, pretty?” Heeseung murmurs against your skin before resuming to suck on your clit harshly, while the sound of his fingers fucking into you is obscenely wet.

“Please let me cum.” You moan out your permission while your hips move in tandem with his unforgiving fingers.

“Go on.” Heeseung permits, his fingers curling inside of you and hitting the spot that sends sparks flying in your vision.

“Seungie, I-I’m─” You gasp in between bated breaths as the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable, sending your body to writhe under him as your impending orgasm awaits its release.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.” His hungry gaze remains fixated on you, while his fingers fucking into you never let up. “Cum.”

At a single command, your lips part open in a silent scream, and blood rushes into your ear while white flashes in your vision as he sends you into a blissful state of euphoria, with your orgasm crashing down on you violently and your body convulsing beneath him.

“Good girl. Oh, you did so well, my beloved.” Heeseung’s warm praise has your pulsating cunt clenching around his fingers that are coated with your release, drawing a smirk on his handsome face.

You whimper at your sensitivity as he slowly withdraws his fingers from you. You watch with lidded eyes while heat creeps up on your cheeks as he inserts his drenched fingers into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you.

Heeseung nearly moans at the taste of your nectar on his tongue, savouring it a little longer before he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. His dark eyes rake all over you, noticing how spent you looked just by a single orgasm. Although he yearns to bury his face in your sweet cunt again, he refrains from doing so, not wanting to unleash the inner part of him that is akin to a raging beast that can only be tamed by you.

The realisation of your cunt still being exhibited under his gaze as the hem of your dress is hiked up to your stomach makes you immediately regain your composure, straightening your spine before bending down to reach for your white underwear, but you become appalled when Heeseung seizes it. “Heeseung─”

“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart.” His command is delivered in a soft, calming tone, to which you silently comply, slowly lifting your leg before he proceeds to assist you in wearing your underwear.

Just as you rise from the couch, your knees buckle underneath you, causing an imbalance in your standing figure, but Heeseung steadily holds you against him while you lean dependently into his chest for support.

“Sorry.” You mutter, and your rosy cheeks feel warmer under his dark gaze on your face, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart beats erratically against your chest in intimate close proximity while his arms slither around your waist.

“Oh, sweetheart, you are truly adorable.” Heeseung coos, his fingers stroking your cheek affectionately, and his eyes are swirling with sentiments beyond your comprehension, because why is he gazing at you with such love and adoration?

“I haven’t even fucked you yet, but your legs are already turning into jell-o because of my tongue.”

“Heeseung! You can’t just say that!” You flushed red in disbelief at how he said it so casually. You try to push him away from you, but he only tightens his grip on you and pulls you closer to him until you can feel his bulge pressing against your tummy. “Let go of me.”

Heeseung grabs strands of your soft locks and brings them to his nose, smelling faintly before kissing them, and his gesture alone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart. “I won’t ever let go of you, sweetheart.” You can’t help but sense the double meaning of his words. “Plus, I haven’t said what I want to say to you.”

“And what is that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Come with me to a family dinner tomorrow.” He says so firmly, his tone indicates no room for objection from you.

“Okay.” You acquiesce, frowning lightly, which denotes your confusion. “But why me?”

“You’re in my territory now, pretty. So everything I say or order, you’ll do so like the good girl I know you are, and don’t even think of trying to escape.” Heeseung leans in to press a tender kiss on your forehead, and while his gesture feels affectionate, it does nothing to alleviate the familiar turmoil within you.

“And if I do?” You dare to ask despite feeling apprehensive about his answer. Your pulses drum in your ears as he trails his kisses down the side of your face before stopping at your temple while his hand moves to cradle the back of your head.

“Pretty girl, if you do…” He sighs softly against you, moving his lips to press a sensual kiss on your earlobe before catching you completely off guard when his fingers grab a chunk of your hair and pull your head to the back, eliciting a whimper from you.”

“H-Hee─” Your hand flies to his wrist and claws at it, imploring him to release you while your fearful eyes meet his dark, steely ones. “Seungie.” You whimper as he forces you to turn your head sideways.

His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while your heart remains pounding harder. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” He whispers darkly into your ear. “Even if you do manage to escape, I won’t be far behind.”

“Why are you being like this?” You ask shakily, tears glistening in your eyes at his unforgiving hold.

“Why?” His cold chuckles feel mocking, sending shivers through you. “Because you’re mine. Your body, your voice, your soul ─ they’re mine.” He presses a deep kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “Sweetheart, you’ve always belonged to me.”

No! That is what your mind is screaming, and your rationality urges you to evade this psychotic man, but despite the pain and fear you harbour for him, a twisted part of you feels delighted because, deep down, maybe you have longed for him to take you in the way the other three men did.

You can’t recall the last time family dinner felt this uncomfortable. What’s even worse is that you feel your presence is intruding, considering that Heeseung’s parents didn’t seem too pleased at the moment they saw you at the threshold of their posh mansion, but nevertheless, they acknowledged you.

The atmosphere in the dining room seems to thicken with tension that is palpable to you despite the distinct chatters and chortles coming from the other side of the table, prompting you to discreetly look over to Heeseung’s twin older brothers.

Earlier, Heeseung introduced you to his older brothers, who were rather blatantly flirtatious with you in their manner, but you were not entirely surprised since Heeseung did give you a heads-up about his older brothers’ coquettish tendencies towards women. You were also informed that they are five years older than Heeseung, and they are currently doctors employed at Seoul National Hospital.

A frown touches your lips as you watch them, wondering how on earth they manage to blithely disregard the patent frigidity between Heeseung and his parents. It is almost as if the two are used to this prevalence.

Heeseung never really mentioned anything about his parents on your way to dinner, but you knew that his father is the Chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, so that explains the cold, reserved demeanour his father exudes. Heck, you feel as though you are committing a crime whenever you make a single movement, especially as his father’s eagle eyes occasionally settle on you. Of course, you never dare make eye contact with his father unless he directs his speech to you.

His mother, on the other hand, looks years younger than his father. She appears standoffish, dolled up in a designer piece that drapes over her figure flawlessly. She has yet to say much, but her sharp yet callous eyes often send you flinching.

“So, Heeseung.” One of the twins, who goes by Jaesung, draws everyone’s attention, including yours. It is still uncanny to you that the three siblings can pass as triplets instead, especially in the way they smile. “Is this the part where you announce your relationship with the lovely Y/N Kang?”

“Our baby brother? In a serious relationship?” The other twin, Daehyun, remarks with a tinge of sarcasm, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. “Oh my. How you’ve grown, indeed.”

“Is this true, Heeseung?” The austerity is accentuated in the way his father speaks, nearly causing you to flinch, but from your peripheral vision, Heeseung displays such nonchalance.

As much as you want to assert the truth to them, you resort to the silent passivity of whatever declaration Heeseung chooses to enunciate. Plus, his hand gripping your plush thigh is an implicit warning, so you know better than to go against him.

You quickly take a glance at Heeseung, seeing his full attention on his father seated across from him. You begin to wonder what exactly Heeseung’s motive is when he clearly displays his disdain for this family dinner.

Heeseung, who has felt your eyes lingering on his face, chuckles inwardly as he can sense your peak curiosity about the dynamic of his family as well as his ulterior motive, but he continues to maintain heated eye contact with his father while a smirk plays on his lips.

Truthfully, Heeseung simply wants to exasperate his father by bringing you to the family dinner, knowing that his father explicitly warned him to keep his distance from you for some reason, and yet Heeseung has an inkling that his father’s absurd rationality has something to do with you being your mother’s daughter.

“Yes.” His confirmation seems to elicit a flaring ire behind the elder’s eyes, which only fuels Heeseung’s zeal in executing part of his revenge towards him. Without looking at you, Heeseung grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his before raising it to give the back of your hand a kiss. “Y/N and I are in a relationship, so we hope that you’ll give us your blessings.”

“You have our blessings, dear brother.” Daehyun intervenes, but that does little to ease the crackling tension between the father and the youngest son.

“Take good care of our baby brother, Y/N.” Jaesung sends you a friendly wink, to which Heeseung narrows his eyes.

“I see.” His father’s reciprocation is nothing short of acknowledgement, but even you can tell that his father doesn’t approve of this in the way he stares at Heeseung. The elder dabs the white handkerchief to the corner of his lips before rising from his seat. “If that is all, I’ll be in my office to resume my paperwork.”

“Dear.” You watch as the wife calls for him and touches his arm, but the elder simply ignores her as he proceeds to make his departure. Even towards his own wife, he harbours the same coldness towards Heeseung.

Time has passed since the uncomfortable dinner, and you now find yourself wandering in the sectional part of the living room, where there are distinct yet beautiful paintings hanging in opulent golden frames on each wall, making you feel as though you are at an art exhibition event. They look like they cost thousands.

“Y/N.”

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at the sound of his father’s voice. You slowly turn around, only to lock eyes with his steely ones as he stands just a few metres from you, allowing you to take a fleeting examination of his features. It is as if you are staring at the older version of Heeseung.

“Mister Lee,” You manage to utter a feeble greeting with a small smile. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.” It was, in fact, the worst dinner you ever had.

You subtly shift under the uncomfortable weight of his gaze as he seems to scrutinise you, leaving you to ponder what you did wrong for his father to feel disdainful towards you.

“I don’t approve of your relationship with Heeseung.” You already expect that much, but why does your heart ache even though you know that you’re not in any relationship with Heeseung? The look in his father’s eyes holds such austerity that it makes you want to cower from him. “After this, I want you to stay away from my son.”

“May I ask why?” You ask tentatively, trying your utmost to repress the hurt from travelling to emerge tears from your eyes. “Am I not good enough for your son?”

You can see it in his eyes — the drastic yet fleeting change in his austere demeanour, almost as if the sight of your eyes now glistening with tears seemed to soften him, evoking a sense of pity in him.

“Staying away from him is for your benefit.” His gentle tone shocks you, as does the look in his eyes. “You’re a nice girl, Y/N. You are better off without being associated with my son.”

“But what if I love him?” The words fly from your mouth without your permission, astounding you with the absurd declaration of love when you remain in a state of uncertainty about your feelings towards your once-academic rival. It feels like you can’t even differentiate between love and infatuation.

“Then it would be wise for you to erase your feelings for him before it’s too late.” His father chuckles wryly, and his cryptic words throw you into a whirlwind of confusion. “Being closely associated with my son will only bring you nothing but misery.”

“I don’t understand why you are talking badly about Heeseung. No matter what, he’s your son.” You express your dissatisfaction with a frown on your lips. “I already know what he’s capable of, but I can assure you he’s not bad. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”

Little do you know that your words provide satisfaction to the person listening behind the wall a few metres away from you.

“You’ve been fooled by his charms, Y/N.” His father heaves a disappointed sigh. “You have no idea how despicable he is. So please, leave him while you still can.”

“Mister Lee─” Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as he steps closer, his fingers brushing your cheek tenderly.

Sentiments swirling in his eyes are beyond anything you can fathom, while a wistful smile etches on his face. “You look so much like her.” His voice trembles with poignance.

“Who?” You inquire as relief washes over you at the loss of his touch on your skin.

“Your mother.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You know my mother?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” His voice, barely above a whisper, a raw emotion of longing, is palpable.

Before you can ask him to elaborate, Heeseung’s voice cuts through the air sharply like a knife. “Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”

When you look over to him, his countenance is inscrutable, but the danger brewing in his eyes daunts you, prompting you to refrain from dilly-dallying any longer as you find yourself gravitating towards him.

Your cheeks flare as he brazenly wraps his arms around your waist before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek in front of the elder. “We’ll be heading off first, father.” There is a certain edge in his tone, and before you can look up at his face, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you with him.

“Brother, leaving so soon?” Both Daehyun and Jaesung, who have been hanging out in the living room, raise their eyebrows at the two of you. “Come on. We haven’t even gotten to know Y/N yet!” Jaesung casts a flirtatious wink at you this time.

“We have somewhere to be.” Heeseung offers them a tight smile while his grip on your hand only seems to tighten, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. “Oh, and Jaesung? Look at my girl that way again, and you’ll find yourself waking up with one eye missing.”

Heeseung doesn’t await any of their responses, as he continues to drag you along with him. You try your best to catch up with his long legs, and when your eyes linger on his back, you swear you can hear the cacophonous maelstrom of raging vehemence in his head.

Now settling in his car, cold silence continues to dominate the atmosphere. You don’t dare to break the ice between the two of you, your eyes focusing on the road ahead of you while your heart pounds against your chest as his car gradually picks up velocity, uncertain of where he is bringing you.

Your eyes eventually trail over to him, noticing his chiselled jaw locked, which parallels the tension, colouring his knuckles nearly white as he grips the steering wheel. You bite down on the inner flesh of your cheek, contemplating whether or not to speak up, especially since he is driving at an alarming speed.

“Heeseung.” You accidentally utter his name in a meek whisper before deciding to overcome your apprehension, but your soft voice is a melodious tune that compels him. “Seungie, slow down, please.”

Heeseung heeds your words, decelerating the speed and taking a brief glance at you before he decides to pull over to the side, where, thankfully, the street is rather a desolate one. You watch him in silence as he releases his clutch from the steering wheel, leaning his head to the back with his eyes closed, before he turns his head to look at you. “What did he say to you?”

You know that he is referring to his father. You fiddle with your fingers as your nerves begin to act up, hyper-aware of the brewing tension sizzling in the air around you. “He told me to stay away from you.”

Of course, Heeseung knows this since he eavesdropped on you earlier. He hums, his hand reaching out to cradle your cheek, and his thumb moves in a tender stroke on your skin. “And what did my sweetheart tell him?”

You hate how his soft tone feels deceptive, causing you to tread carefully with your next choice of words. “I refused him and told him that you’re nice.” You mumble as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

A pleased smirk plasters on his handsome countenance. “Good girl. Now come here.” Upon his instruction, you unbuckle your seatbelt before moving over to him with his assistance, as he has you perched on top of him.

His heart soars at how docile you are to him while his eyes drink in your beautiful features, which are illuminated by the street lights from the outside. With his eyes boring into yours, he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. “You know, sweetheart, I’m feeling very upset. Can you help to make me feel better?”

“Are you upset because of your father?” The way you tilt your head slightly to one side as your doe eyes sparkle with curiosity brings a fond smile twitching on his lips.

“Many things upset me, like how my brothers were being flirtatious with you,” He leans his body towards you, his hands slithering around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest hits his. “How my father had the audacity to keep us apart,” His voice drops low as he dips his head down to place a kiss on your skin, just above the silver cross resting on your chest, before slowly trailing his kisses upward. “How my stepmother still breathes and acts like she owns the place.”

Despite his warm lips remaining intact on the hollow of your throat, which sends your head spinning, the mention of his stepmother captures your attention. “She’s your stepmother?”

Your hands find their way to settle on his shoulders, gripping them as you begin to be aroused by his tantalising kisses littering the expanse of your neck while you tilt your head for him to gain better access, earning you an approval hum from him.

“W-What about your real mother?” You ask, panting lightly as your chest feels heavier from the rising tension in the car.

“Dead, alive, I don’t know.” Heeseung sighs against your skin. “Couldn’t give a fuck about her since the day she cut off all contact with my brothers and me.”

Your heart aches for him the same way you felt towards Jay before, but soon the sympathy dissipates at the way he is now gripping your hips to grind on him. “Wait, Heeseung─” A gasp leaves your lips as his bulge brushes against your core, causing your cunt to clench beneath the material of your underwear.

“Come on, pretty.” Heeseung leisurely leans back, pulling you down with him while his hands continue to guide your movement. “Grind on me like you're riding my cock.”

Heat weaves across your cheeks at his licentious words, and yet it only turns you on further, motivating you to pick up the momentum, grinding on him with your throbbing pussy, explicitly feeling the sheer girth of his cock hidden beneath the slacks.

“Oh, Hee…” Your lips form an ‘o’ shape with light pants and pretty moans emitting from you, your head tilted up with your lidded eyes fluttering at the delicious friction of your clit pressing down on him.

“Fuck,” He grits his teeth, his hips bucking up to move in tandem with you, while his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t stop until you make us both cum, yeah?”

You nod your head, unable to form coherent sentences as needy whines and moans continue to spill from your lips. The hem of your black dress hikes up all the way above your thighs, allowing you more room to spread your legs comfortably while still maintaining the pace. The fact that you look like a bitch in heat humping on him unabashedly doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and instead, it arouses you into grinding on his protruding cock more feverishly.

“Yeahhh, just like that, pretty.” He smirks at you, revelling at how beautiful yet sinful you look. His hands move until they grope your ass cheeks for leverage, pulling you closer and allowing you to feel for his cock and pelvis deeply. “Oh, how perfect you truly are, sweetheart.”

Your heart flutters at his adoring words, and when your eyes finally settle on his face, butterflies awaken in your tummy at the way he is looking at you with a smirk on his handsome countenance, as if you’re his whole world. Your eyes flicker at the familiar lip ring adorning his bottom lip, and a yearning for his lips on yours is palpable.

You mewl, your thighs beginning to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. “Please kiss me.”

Who is he to refuse his beloved? With one hand placed on your back, he pulls you down fully, his head tilted to a perfect angle for your lips to collide with his, allowing you to taste the fresh cigarette on his lips. You flutter your eyes closed while your hips don’t relent from their feverish movement.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling of his cold lip ring on yours, your lips move in a fervent dance as he kisses you as if he needs air, as if he has waited for so long to devour you. Feeling his teeth biting down on the suppleness of your bottom lip, you whimper as your lips part open for him to explore your hot cavern.

You moan wantonly as his tongue meets you in an intimate tango while your orgasm is nearly impending, prompting you to roll your hips deeper as your clit grazes against his bulge even more deliciously.

“Cumming, pretty?” He whispers hotly into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair to grip it. His tongue licks the seams of your bottom lip, which look swollen from his biting earlier. “Come on, cum with me.”

With the last friction of your clit along his girth, your stomach tightens as you finally come undone with him, feeling your slick arousal leaking from your folds that form a sticky wet patch on your underwear. The exertion dawns on you as you allow yourself to lean on his body with your head resting on his shoulder.

He plants a kiss on your exposed shoulder while caressing your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really needed that.” With his arms wrapped around your waist, your heart remains a fluttery mess as you are cocooned in his warm embrace.

The two of you remain unmoving, basking in each other’s touch and scent, with Heeseung occasionally leaning down to press his lips on your shoulder, an affectionate gesture that intensifies the butterflies in you.

“Do you want to go back now?” He asks gently, looking at you as you slowly raise your head.

You shake your head, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the fact that you desire to feel his lips again. Being brazen enough, your fingers clutch at his collar shirt. “I want you to kiss me again.” But you utter your words meekly, drawing a teasing smirk from his lips.

“What was that?”

The way you huff annoyedly is rather adorable in his eyes. The sound of your whine goes straight to his cock. “I want you to kiss me again.” You reiterate loudly. “Please?”

Raising his upper body, Heeseung latches his hand at your nape to pull you closer until his lips collide with yours, and this time, he kisses you tenderly slowly, taking his time to savour this moment, and yet as he deepens the kiss, the connection between the two of you amplify.

You hum into the kiss, your movements are desperate as you cling onto him with your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer. All the caution you initially had for him is thrown in the wind, and you allow yourself to fully acknowledge that you desire this man to claim you as his best friends did.

He chuckles breathily into the kiss at your eagerness, his hold on your waist is one of reverence. “Slow down, sweetheart.” He murmurs into the kiss while you don’t relent. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You decide to take charge, forcing him to lean back before you trail your kisses down his neck until you stop at his Adam’s apple that is bobbing up and down. Your tongue takes a teasing lick, eliciting a breathy moan from him at the sensitivity, before you lick again and give it a kiss.

“Oh, fuck.” He curses out breathlessly, feeling his cock erect underneath the material just by the sensation of your lips on his throat. This time, he isn’t sure if he can hold himself back as you continue to litter your kisses and licks all over his neck. “Sweetheart, we should stop.”

“No.” You mumble, slotting your lips over his parted ones and kissing him hard before poking your tongue into his mouth. The wet smacking sound and breathy moans elicited from the two of you are obscene, reigniting your arousal once more.

“Again?” Heeseung groans as soon as he feels you grinding your cunt on his erection while you play with his lip ring, licking and biting it. His eyes darken at the sight of you fluttering your eyelashes at him seductively as you bite down his bottom lip and pull it teasingly before you engulf him with your tongue once more.

“Cum with me, Seungie.” You mewl into his mouth as you increase the pace, allowing his cock to feel your drenched cunt explicitly. Heeseung desires to take charge, but seeing you in this light does something to him.

Rolling his hips up, Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply as white ropes of cum spurt from his cock, staining his already dampened briefs. Seeing as you manage to arouse pleasure in him, you follow suit, your underwear completely drenched as you come undone for the second time.

“Good girl.” He pants lightly, eyeing you lazily as he caresses your cheek while a soft smile beams on your face before you lean in to kiss his lips.

“Can I suck your cock now, Seungie?” You ask sweetly against his lips, driven to give him the best possible blowjob of his life after having been taught and experienced with his best friends.

“Next time, pretty.” Heeseung plants a kiss on your forehead. “We should head back.”

“Then can I suck your cock while you drive?” Your offer only seems to entice him more than it should. You force his hands away from you before you move over to the passenger seat.

“Sweetheart─” He groans, falling into the temptation as your fingers find their way to unzip his pants before they pull down his dampen brief, releasing his still erection from the confines.

Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of his long, veiny cock, with the tip raging red. Although you are doubtful if you can even handle him, a newfound vigour possesses you as you lean towards him and dip your head down with one hand holding the base. You kiss the tip wetly, enhancing his sensitivity as he bucks his hips up, before you decide to lick the tip and suck on it like you would do to a lollipop.

Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply at the sensational pleasure while he feels greatly impressed by your skills. “You are going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He sighs pleasurably as the tip hits the roof of your mouth before you begin to deep-throat him. A muscle pulses in his jaw as he starts the ignition of his car. “Don’t stop until we reach the palace.”

In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have surmised that the anonymous person was indeed Heeseung just because the endearment 'sweetheart’ induced the paranoia in you. Plus, it seems illogical that Heeseung was responsible for those texts when his loyalty and love for his best friends have been amply shown in the way he speaks about them, whereas the anonymous person had been so adamantly persuading you to leave them.

Or maybe Heeseung is indeed the anonymous person who harbours ill-feelings towards his best friends for reasons that are kept hidden in a pandora box and chose to play mind games with you. Perhaps it could be the reason why you haven’t been receiving any texts from the unknown number because you have long since been within his reach.

No matter, you regard it as something trivial. Besides, Heeseung has been nothing but nicer to you and always ensures that you are comfortable, be it inside the palace or outside. And so you shall resort to the presumption that Heeseung is not the creepy anonymous person.

“Sweetheart.” Heeseung’s warm greeting gently pulls you out of your rumination. The sound of his soft, gentle voice is a euphony to your ears that makes you feel as though you are floating as you grace your way towards him.

Your heart bears the familiar flutters as you do a quick examination of his overall beach fit. With the exception of his wonted black cap adorning his head, he is clad in a black printed short-sleeve beach shirt that complements his shorts. The serpent pendant rests on his chest with the chain hooked around his neck, while his earlobes are bare of the usual metal studs and earrings. The tattoo inked on his neck looks distinct under the fluorescent lights overhead.

You never would have thought that he would undeniably be the man of your wildest dreams.

As soon as you are within an arm’s reach, Heeseung swiftly grabs a hold of your hand and pulls you to him, eliciting endearing giggles from you that bring a smirk to his lips.

“Heeseung.” You greet him heartily, beaming with a smile on your radiant countenance as he has you locked in his embrace with one arm while the other cradles your face to angle your head before he leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you deeply while the background fades into oblivion.

He hums against your lips before pulling away just slightly for his lips to ghost over yours, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” His husky voice stirs an arousal in your core.

“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” You reciprocate sheepishly, feeling small under his dark gaze, while a devilish smirk paints his features upon seeing your rosy cheeks that flare due to the effect he knows he has on you.

His eyes rake over you again, completely enamoured by the breathtaking sight of you, all dolled up in a baby blue spaghetti strap dress with a rather low neckline that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage. Your hair is styled in a lovely braided half-updo that resembles a wreath-like crown, while the short strands of your baby hair are let loose as they hang by your face frame. You apply a minimal amount of makeup that accentuates your features.

When his eyes linger on your pink glossed lips, he is reminded of how sinful they were last night. The recollection of your doe eyes staring up at him as you swallowed all of his cum deep into your throat entices him to reenact last night’s pursuit while on your way to the beach.

“New car?” You inquire in genuine surprise as your eyes sparkle at the sight of a sleek grey Range Rover SUV behind him, oblivious to the erotic thoughts occupying his head at this moment. “I’ve never seen that car before.” You remark, diverting your attention to him.

“It was parked in the other garage, where we store other vehicles we rarely use.” Heeseung tells you in an idle manner, his attention is intently on you. “Are you sure you want to come along with us? The other knights will be there.”

Right. Apparently, Heeseung had plans on staying in the palace with you for the whole day, but earlier in the morning, he received incessant missed calls from three specific individuals before he reluctantly answered one of their calls, only to be persuaded to join the beach party the other knights were hosting. Heeseung did ask you since he didn’t want you to feel lonely in the palace, and he was a tad surprised at your enthusiasm despite knowing how other knights have treated and behaved around you in the past.

Heeseung can see a fleeting uncertainty in your eyes before you give him a firm head nod with a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. It’s a bummer that Jaeyun, Jay, and Sunghoon won’t be there.”

His eyes narrow at your kissable lips, forming a small pout. Adorning a lazy smirk on his lips, he cups your cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty. They’ll be back in no time. Besides,” He leans down to nuzzle his nose with yours, drawing faint giggles from you. “You have me. I’ll keep you occupied, and you’ll eventually forget about them.” His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Just as you lean in to press your lips on his, familiar voices pop the intimacy bubble that you are in, prompting you to look to the side where three silhouettes enter the opened garage before their faces greet you, each sporting distinctive beach fits.

“Y/N? You’re coming with us as well?” Jungwon inquires as he raises his eyebrow at you while you nod your head in response. He appears to be holding a volleyball in one hand while the other is occupied with a bag.

“You look lovely, darling.” Sunoo compliments you with a simper smile, but you have an inkling that he is trying to get a reaction out of Heeseung, and you know that you are right the moment Heeseung wraps his arm around your waist with his head dipping down to press a kiss on your shoulder, displaying his possession over you.

“Sunoo was only joking, Heeseung.” Riki rolls his eyes as he smacks the back of Sunoo’s head, eliciting a wince from the latter. Riki briefly glances at you, his face remains impassive. “You look nice.”

Your eyes widen at the mere compliment from Riki, which you totally didn’t expect, given that Jaeyun once told you that Riki rarely gives compliments, even towards his own friends.

Still holding you in his possession with his nose and mouth burying in your hair, Heeseung manages to shoot them a withering glare, prompting the three to avert their gaze as they haphazardly make their way to the SUV.

Finally settling inside the Range Rover, everything smells anew, as if the car had been purchased just earlier. As Heeseung starts the ignition, you proceed to buckle your seatbelt while the three musketeers are seated in the backseat. The commotion from behind consists of Sunoo and Jungwon bickering, and when you take a glance at them, you stifle a chuckle at the amusing sight of Riki seated in the middle seeming to be asleep while the other two continue to bicker.

“Sweetheart, give me your hand.” Heeseung, who is driving you out of the palace, extends his hand out to you with his palm facing upward.

With a soft smile, you place your hand on his palm before he intertwines your fingers together. Your heart beats in a cadence that is beginning to feel familiar as you watch him place a kiss at the back of your hand while his other hand clutches the steering wheel in an expert motion.

“You can go to sleep, if you want.” Heeseung tells you, still holding your hand that is placed above his thigh, as he provides you with comforting warmth from his touch and how perfectly your hand fits his.

“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy.” You decline politely, but the weight pulling down at your eyelids contradicts your words, and soon you find yourself drifting into the familiar realm of sleep.

It seems as though the journey to the beach isn’t that far off, as you are jolted awake by the sound of the car door slamming closed, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open only to be greeted by the sight of the coast from afar. Soon, you and Heeseung trail behind Sunoo and Jungwon while Riki has gone ahead.

“Don’t leave my side.” Heeseung’s breath tickles your earlobe as he speaks softly. His arm around your waist is a display of possession that feels firmer as soon as you enter the scenery of throngs of knights members dominating this entirety of the beach.

“I won’t.” You reassure him with a sweet smile, earning you a kiss on the forehead from him.

“Good. I don’t trust any of them around you except Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.” Heeseung murmurs to you before his attention is focused on the knights ahead of you as they wave at him and salute him in different forms of greeting.

Although you feel relief that they don’t seem to gawk their eyes at you or throw any crude remarks at you, you can’t help but notice that the way they avoid staring at you seems deliberate. Little do you know that Heeseung has given them silent warnings just with his steely eyes.

“Heeseung! You came!” Yeonjun’s greeting is one of exuberance as he approaches Heeseung from the side, and you feel Heeseung loosening his grip on you unlike earlier.

“If it weren’t for Jungwon, I wouldn’t be here.” Heeseung tells him with a scoff, his attention solely on Yeonjun as they begin to converse while you distract yourself as your eyes sweep over to the bunch of them in an effervescent element engaging in a sport of volleyball. There is also music blaring from the speakers, adding more vibrancy to the lively atmosphere.

“Anyway, you’re with Y/N now?” Yeonjun’s inquiry grabs hold of your attention. “I know it’s not in any of my business, but what about the others?” You know that he is referring to three specific individuals. “That reminds me. Is this going to end up just as it did before─”

“Sweetheart, are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” Heeseung ignores Yeonjun deliberately, to which you frown in visible confusion. You don’t miss the way Heeseung casts a warning glare at Yeonjun before looking at you with softened eyes. “Do you feel hot?”

“I'm okay, Hee.” You smile awkwardly as he proceeds to bring you away from Yeonjun, and despite your desire to know what Yeonjun meant, you don’t want to piss off Heeseung more than he already is, as evident in the way he holds you.

“Heeseung! Come on!” Jungwon calls Heeseung over to his team. Heeseung seems contemplative as he comes to a halt, his eyes glancing at you. Before he can make a decision, Riki emerges from behind and slings his arm around Heeseung. “Y/N will be fine.” As if Riki read his mind, Heeseung immediately releases you before the younger drags him towards the volleyball section.

As much as you love Heeseung clinging to you, you can’t deny that you feel suffocated at times, especially when the wave of possessiveness rolling from him often knocks the breath out of you. You smack your cheeks lightly, inwardly groaning at the thought of having four men clinging to you, possibly 24/7.

“Why are you slapping yourself?” Taehyun’s voice startles you as your body jolts. You look at the side, only to be greeted with the infectious smile on his charming countenance. “Nice to see you here, Y/N.”

“Taehyun,” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I wasn’t slapping myself.”

“Sure, you weren’t.” Taehyun jokingly rolls his eyes before beckoning you to follow him. “Since you’re looking a little lonely, wanna join us? Plus, your presence could really lift Beomgyu’s mood since he has been a little upset since you rejected his offer the other day.”

“The offer─Oh.” Realisation dawns on you as you recall. With a small smile at Taehyun, you proceed to follow him as he brings you over to the familiar bunch. You ignore the fact that they are shirtless since, after all, they will be venturing out to the waves with surfboards in their grasp. Beomgyu is one of them.

“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” One of them, whom you recognise as Jeongin, casts you a smirk, and his remark draws the others’ attention to you.

“I thought there would be no ladies.” Hyunjin muses, and a predatory glint in his eyes brings you discomfort.

“Don’t you know that she’s an exception now?” Soobin’s tone sounds rather mocking before the collective snickering emitting from them comes, rendering you disheartened at the fact that words have spread to the devil’s knight club about your explicit association with their leaders.

“Enough.” The austerity in Beomgyu’s tone is enough to silence them. “Any disrespect towards Y/N won’t be tolerated.”

“You heard my best friend. Now play nice.” Taehyun’s words of advice are dismissed by them as they proceed to venture out to the waves in the ocean that are approaching while your attention is fixed on Beomgyu.

“Sorry about them. They really need to learn how to shut the fuck up sometimes.” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I really didn’t expect to see you here. So Heeseung wasn’t joking when he said you’d be busy with him, huh?”

“It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’m used to it.” You chuckle dryly. “I heard from Taehyun that a certain someone was being sulky because of me.”

Beomgyu seems almost sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Nah, it’s not because of you. Tae totally made that up.” You grow amused as he glares at Taehyun, who feigns innocence in the way he blinks his eyes.

“As much as I would like to talk more with you, a man’s gotta surf.” Beomgyu shoots you a mirthful grin. “You are welcome to watch us surf, by the way.”

“Um…” Your eyes dart at Heeseung from afar, noticing him in his sporty element as he serves the volleyball expertly while his black cap has long since fallen to the sand. Well, since Heeseung is entirely occupied, it won’t hurt for you to watch the other guys surf, right?

Not too long later, you are seated on a small picnic mat by the coast, thanks to Taehyun’s offer, so you won’t have to dirty your dress. Your mouth is agape as you watch in amazement at the sight of them surfing, and at times you find yourself worrying whenever they fall off their surfboards, resulting in them plunging into the relentless waves.

But then, a sense of neglect comes as you pout your lips, getting distracted by the thought of Heeseung. Heeseung has yet to come for you, leaving you to wonder if he has forgotten about you since he is too busy with his fellow knights. The sun on the horizon has even begun its descent as time has passed by quickly.

“Look who is being sulky now.” Beomgyu’s teasing voice pulls you out of your thoughts before you are aware of his presence next to you. When you look at him, his hair is wholly drenched while droplets of water trickle down his skin. “What’s wrong?”

You feel compelled to confide in him after how nice he has been to you. “It’s nothing important.”

“Then why are you still pouting?” Beomgyu points out, his finger is touching your lips. “Don’t pout. You’re not five.”

You gasp in disbelief before shoving him by the shoulder playfully. “Rude.” You give him a scowl, but his chuckles are so infectious that you find yourself joining him. “I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to come off like a needy girlfriend when I'm not, but I feel kind of neglected.” You begin to unravel your thoughts after the two of you have calmed down.

Beomgyu examines your crestfallen eyes before the view of your side profile greets him as you gaze out at the beautiful dawning horizon. “It’s about Heeseung.” He points out the obvious, and the certain edge in his tone goes unnoticed by you. “You two used to be rivals, so what changed now?”

A soft smile touches your lips. “I guess you can say feelings have changed. It turned out, I didn’t really hate him as much as I thought I did.”

Beomgyu merely hums. “Heeseung is a great guy. You can be assured that he’ll take good care of you.” You can’t help but discern the lack of sincerity in his compliment.

Nevertheless, you continue to vent your feelings to him, inattentive to your surroundings, which include the danger hurling towards you. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. Is it even possible to like four people at once─”

“Y/N, look out!” It all happens too fast for you to comprehend, because one moment you feel assured by his oddly comforting presence to confide in him, and the next, you find yourself being pinned down to the sand, your eyes widening as he hovers on top of you.

“W-What just happened?” Confusion laces in your voice while there is unsettling turmoil in your tummy, and you have no idea whether it’s the position you are in or the fact that you feel a pair of heated eyes at you that is not Beomgyu’s.

“Volleyball.” Beomgyu says as you follow the movement of his eyes before you spot the volleyball just a few metres from you. “You almost got hit.”

“Ah, thanks.” You utter distraughtly as he slowly backs away from you. You cast him a small yet curt smile before rising from the ground. “I’m just gonna head off to the washroom.”

“Oh, do you need me to come with you?” He asks, standing as well.

You immediately shake your head. “It’s okay! I just want to wash my face.” You attempt to politely refuse him, but even you know that your words are uttered in a ramble. Without waiting for his response, you quickly navigate your way to the washroom, which is thankfully not that far off from where you are.

Still, you can’t shake off the feeling of eyes on your figure, and the first person that comes to mind is Heeseung. Colours begin to drain from your face at the realisation that he may or may not have seen what happened, but it was not as if you and Beomgyu did anything beyond appropriate.

Your heart nearly jumps at the sound of your phone chiming in your pocket, and your first thought is the anonymous person. Groaning out, you fish out your phone and unlock your phone screen, but the notification comes from someone you didn’t expect, and just seeing his name is enough to bring dread to you.

HEESEUNG: Now where do you think you're going, pretty?

Chills run through you as you slowly turn around before finally spotting Heeseung not far from you, as he is still being surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces. The bill of his cap casts a shadow over his face as he appears to be speaking with them while a smirk occasionally tips at his lips. He appears to be looking down at his phone before his dark eyes finally meet yours fleeting, and it is enough for you to be alarmed.

Ding! You look down at your phone screen again to read his text.

HEESEUNG: Go back to the car and get into the backseat.

Even though it is an odd instruction, you don’t question it further as you find yourself walking in haste, almost as if you are getting away from your predator before it captures you. But wait…perhaps you should devise an escape scheme, or maybe you shouldn’t, but the sudden adrenaline rush in you feels overpowering.

Ding! You check your phone again, and this time, you know you are in for something.

HEESEUNG: Keep walking, and don’t even think of trying to escape.

That is when you know he’s not far behind you. You begin to pick up the pace while your heart pounds harder against your chest. It isn’t long before you finally reach the SUV and head for the backseat, where the door has been unlocked.

You can hear your pulse drumming in your ear as you regulate your breathing, while the stillness in the car feels rather suspended as you wait in uncertain anticipation. Seated on the right side, the door beside you swings open, startling you. Upon his ominous arrival, you slowly yet discreetly scoot away from him.

“Heeseung─” You gasp loudly while your heart lurches in your chest as you find yourself being pinned to the seat with his fingers seizing your neck in a threatening hold. Your body feels as though you have been paralysed underneath him. You open your mouth to speak, but he silences you with his lips and thrusts his tongue into your mouth forcibly, allowing you to taste the fresh taste of his cigarette while his cap falls off his head.

The tension crackling in the air is like electricity, one that sends you perpetual shivers all over your body. The disoriented sound emerging from the back of your throat is a mingling of both whimper and moan that parallels your confusion and fright for the enraged male who is kissing you as though he is punishing you.

Tears prick in your eyes as he bites down your bottom lip painfully, nearly drawing out blood. You attempt to push him away from you, but his grip on your neck tightens, nearly blocking the airways that have faint black dots appearing in your vision.

You hate it. You hate it that you feel petrified of Heeseung at this very moment, knowing that he can easily snap your dainty neck with just one move. You whimper, accepting defeat, as he manages to draw out blood from your bottom lip while it throbs.

“What the fuck was that?” His gravelly, deep voice sounds rough as he speaks into your mouth, while your lips feel swollen by his unforgiving kisses and bites.

“Heeseung.” You whimper helplessly, still trying to resist him as you valiantly push him in the chest, but he grabs both of your wrists with ease and has them locked above your head with one hand.

His tongue licks at the seam of your lip, tasting your blood. “I just can’t leave you alone for a while, can I?” He scoffs out, the corner of his lips upturning a smirk while his callous eyes penetrate into your glistening ones. “And you dared to go to Beomgyu after I told you not to go near him? Fuck, you really like to test my patience that much, don’t you?”

“I didn’t!” You try to deny it despite feeling lightheaded at the restricting air in you, but that only earns you a degrading scoff from him. He releases your neck, allowing you to regulate your erratic breathing while you hear some shuffles before you feel his hands invading underneath your dress to search for your underwear just to practically tear it apart, eliciting a gasp from you.

“Heeseung!” You attempt to close your legs, hating that your body and awaiting cunt are anticipating him. Your disobedience earns you a slap on your thigh before he forces your legs apart as you are fully bare from below.

Your hips jerk at the sensitivity of his thumb stroking your clit before the pad of his fingers slides down on your slit, every rub he administers feels deceptive. “Seungie─Ah!” You yelp out as soon as his hand lands a sharp smack on your pussy while the sound echoes in the car.

“Oh, sweetheart, I was hurt.” He sighs as his fingers rubbing your slit feel deliberate, almost cunning, before he smacks your pussy again, and this time twice as hard that you swear you feel the searing burn. “You smiled, laughed, and even fucking touched him.”

A whimper leaves your lips, hating yet loving the pain as he abuses your pussy again, but soon the arousal comes forth, and when he lands a sharp smack to your clit, you arch your back while a moan tears from your throat.

“You’re not supposed to like this, sweetheart.” He scoffs out a smirk before delivering another smack on your clit. “Only desperate, pathetic sluts are supposed to find this enjoyable. Are you one?”

“N-No!” You gasp as he plunges two fingers deep into your sopping heat, scissoring you at an unforgiving pace yet with precision that has you going lightheaded.

“Yeah, you are slut. A dirty fucking slut.” He sneers down at you, watching as your face contorts into pleasure as you moan out with your head thrown to the back. Your hands move haphazardly to latch on his moving wrist, needing him to shove his fingers deeper while his dark chuckles send shivers through you before he withdraws from you. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take the whole of me and everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”

Panic blooms in your chest as you lift your head to get a better view of his cock as he settles in between you. You try to scramble away from him, fearing the possibility of him tearing your insides apart upon seeing the thickness and length of his enraging cock, but he effortlessly pulls you by the legs and spreads them wider, and he thank fuck that the SUV is spacious enough.

“Heeseung, please!” Fear laces in the tremor of your voice as your hips jolt at the sensation of him smacking the head of his cock on your sensitive nub, and yet, you can feel your cunt throbbing incessantly with need and anticipation. “Hee─”

You can feel it — the head of his cock breaching in between your fluttery walls — and he doesn’t relent even as you whimper out your pleas, which only turns him on. He grits his teeth, feeling the resistance of your fluttery walls hugging him tight, but with an unbridled urgency, his cock manages to bury inside of you fully with one vigorous yet swift thrust. “Oh, fuck,” He hisses lowly, feeling your tight resistance around him.

You feel like a sweet virgin when, in fact, your pussy has been used an uncountable number of times by his best friends, and that itself ignites a blazing jealousy in him. He does an experimental thrust as he watches your face contort into pain while a feeble yet cute moan spills from your lips and your eyes flutter closed with your back arched before drawing his cock out with a long drag against your walls, the head remaining inside before he decides to expunge any mercy as he delivers a hard, deliberate thrust, burying his cock to the hilt.

“Seungie.” Tears are welling in your eyes as the painful stretch persists while your cunt so desperately tries to accommodate his cock. With his body hovering on top of you, your arms hook around his broad, dependent shoulders while your legs slowly wrap around his waist, drawing a smirk on his lips at how you evidently submit yourself to him.

“Gonna make sure you remember that you belong to me and ruin you for anyone.” His tone holds dark promises while his hauntingly beautiful eyes darken with an insatiable desire, distracting you momentarily from the pain in the way he is drilling his cock into your sopping cunt with his hips slamming down painfully on yours. “Just wanna lock you up and keep you hidden from everyone else.”

“Ugh! Hee!” A loud moan emerges from the back of your throat as he fucks his pent-up emotions into you, prompting you to unhook your arm from his shoulder to muffle your mouth with the back of your hand while tears continue to accumulate in your lower lids. Each thrust he delivers incites your quivering muscles, causing them to contract and enclasp his cock.

Heeseung narrows his eyes at you, not liking the fact that you are pathetically trying to muffle the sweet sounds from your mouth. With one hand beside your head to support his weight, he uses the other to pull your hand away from your panting mouth and intertwine your fingers with his before placing them above your head.

“Please! Please! Please!” You begin to blabber, any remnants of resistance in you dissolve as each pelting thrust builds new heights of pleasure while your hips move in tandem with his.

Heeseung captures your lips in a sloppy kiss that punctuates the cold, stagnant car. With your lips parting open, he swallows every breath and moans from you, his tongue probing in your hot cavern and clashing with your tongue. Without letting up the pace of his thrust, he begins to make out with your tongue, exchanging saliva and sucking your tongue, which creates a sound so lewd in your ears.

“Yeahhhh, sweetheart,” He whispers amorously into your moaning mouth, his voice laden with lust, loving the way you every so often roll your eyes to the back while your arch causes your boobs to press against his chest. “Feels good, yeah? You love my cock?”

You nod your head as you feel delirious. “Mmhmm! I love it!” You moan out, feeling a knot form in your tummy.

“That’s fucking right. My cock, not Beomgyu’s or anyone else’s.” He snarls coldly as he releases your bound wrists, only for his hand to make its descent, his fingers now curling around your throat. “Only I can satisfy you.”

“Hee!” You gasp out as he squeezes your neck, nearly blocking the airways and rendering your breath ragged. The fear is soon eclipsed by intense pleasure as he has you in a chokehold. Just as black dots begin to appear in your vision, he loosens his grip on your neck just slightly. Your swollen, irresistible lips entice him to seal you in a searing kiss.

“Ugh! Hee!” Your moans sound like a broken record against his lips, your impending orgasm teetering at the edge. “I’m─”

“Oh no, you don’t.” His cruelty shines through his smirk while he doesn’t let up his thrust. “You don’t deserve to cum. You’re going to be my dump cum slut, and your sweet cunt is going to milk every drop of my cum.”

“Seungie! Please!” A sob spills from your numb lips, with tears leaking from your eyes. Like a bitch in heat, you rut your hips against him, intensifying your teetering orgasm. “I-I’m sorry! You’re the only one I want!”

“Yeah? Then fucking say it.” He grunts out, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your temple. “Say that you won’t be anywhere near Beomgyu or any man who is not us.”

“I promise I won’t!” You give him your word so easily without much consideration, the earnest in your punctuation seems to satisfy him. He removes his hand from your neck and drags his fingers down your quivering stomach until they reach your clit “Ugh! Please, Hee! I want to cum!”

Heeseung only smirks in response as he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb in patterns before pressing it down deeper, eliciting a loud moan from you. “Yeahhh, go ahead, pretty baby. Cum for me.”

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as you feel something overpowering, causing your body to writhe underneath him while every fibre of your being sizzles with white-hot pleasure. “Heeseung!” You scream as soon as you feel it.

“Yeah, babyy. Fucking squirt for me.” Heeseung grits his teeth as he doesn’t let up his administration on your bundle of nerves, even as you squirt for him, bathing him with your essence while your body convulses uncontrollably. “That’s it. Oh, that’s a good slut.”

You whimper weakly in response; your body is totally spent, and you swear you can feel bruises on your hips due to how hard he slammed. Heeseung’s hunger for you is insatiable, as his eyes rake all over you before he unsheathes his cock from your fluttery hole.

Just as you think Heeseung is done, he leans forward, his hands around your spent body, and manhandles you into a position that has you perched on his lap. Despite your weakened limbs, you attempt to resist him.

“No, please, no.” You protest weakly as his hand holds you by the waist to lift you up with such ease.

“Yeahhhhh baby,” He drawls, a heavy lust projecting in the rasp of his voice. “Gonna fuck you some more, beautiful.”

“W-Wait! Heeseung─!” A broken moan spills past your lips at the sheer girth of his ramming cock that nestles deep inside of you with his firm hands on your hips, forcing you down on him. “Heeseung! Please!”

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so good again.” He smirks against your skin before placing a kiss on your pulse, revelling in the sweet sound of your moans and cries as you plead. “Yeah? My good girl just wants to be fucked, doesn’t she? That’s why you’re fucking soaked all over me.”

“No.” Tears cascade in rivulets down your cheeks as you shake your head, hating and loving the immense pleasure he is giving you for the second time.

“Yesss.” His teeth sink into your skin, grunting deeply with each hard and deliberate thrust he delivers into your overstimulated yet soaked cunt that feels unforgiving. His fingers are tangled in your hair to grip it as he forces you to face the roof of the car while the other hand cages your waist.

This time, the way he is fucking into you feels more for his pleasure, as though you are his fucktoy. The continuous sound of splat!-splat! as you bounce onto his cock is disgustingly lewd. With your neck bare in his hungry eyes, he latches his lips on your throat, humming against you and sending vibrations to your throat before trailing his kisses across your neck. He releases his grip from your hair as he dips his head down, allowing his face to burrow into the nook of your neck with sweat trickling down your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He announces huskily while his hot breath hits the sheen of your skin. His arms slither around your waist to pull your body closer to his while his hips relentlessly buck up, and you swear you can feel his cock bruising your cervix.

With a languid moan, you force yourself to wrap both arms around his neck, hugging him close as you await his arrival. Hearing his low guttural moan, he holds you down firmly without any possible escape for you as he finally shoots a white rope of cum into you, sealing your fate with his.

Silence engulfs the two of you with the accompanying sound of your laboured breathing. He doesn’t say anything, only hugging you with his face still buried in the nook of your neck. You take this moment to observe your surroundings, and your eyes widen at the condensation from all the fucking evident on the car windows, but thankfully, they’re factory-tinted glasses, so it is nearly impossible for anyone to learn of your dirty tango inside the car unless they come closer.

“Heeseung.” Panic is evident in your voice while your eyes widen at the sight of knights entering the parking lot, as they seem to be heading back since the weather has turned gloomy with droplets of rain descending.

Heeseung merely hums, completely unbothered, as he kisses your neck leisurely before deciding to add another of his marks to your delicate skin, distracting you from panicking at the pleasurable sensation of his lips assaulting the sensitive part of your neck.

“Heeseung!” You whisper, tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you watch some knights walk past the Range Rover from each side while commotions emanating from them can be heard. “Heeseung! Stop! They might see us!”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” He murmurs against your skin before pulling away, satisfied to see a fresh hickey embellished on your skin for him to proudly display to anyone that it’s his mark. “Even if they see us, we’ll be giving them a show.”

You gasp at the sensation of him bucking up his hips as he thrusts his cock into your wholly drenched cunt. “H-Heeseung─” Just as he delivers a jarring thrust, a loud moan accidentally tears from your throat before he silences you with his palm covering the whole of your mouth, nearly suffocating you.

“Shhh, you don't want them to know that we’re fucking, right? Or maybe you do?”” He asks mockingly as you shake your head frantically. A muffled moan elicits from you as he thrusts again. “You wanna let everyone know how much of a slut you are for my cock, don’t you?”

Upon feeling your walls clench around his cock at the unceasing degradation, dark chuckles leave his lips. “Yeahh, keep clenching around me like that. You love it when I’m mean to you, yeah?” He asks huskily as he uncovers your mouth, allowing the noise from you to be let loose as he forces you to bounce onto his cock for a few times before he lifts you away from him.

“Get on your fours.” The sheer authority exuding from him compels you to heed his instruction, whimpering as embarrassment washes over you with the entirety of your ass facing him. Your body jolts in surprise just as he delivers a harsh smack on your ass cheek at the same time as the thunderous storm in the sky before heavy rain begins its descent.

Goosebumps arise on your skin at this temperature. Your head is level with the window, allowing you to see some knights walking and running to their vehicles. A moan falls past your lips as soon as his cock rams into you, the squelching sound a testament to your essence emulsifying with his.

“Fucking hell. Just can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, baby.” Heeseung says in between heavy, ragged breaths as he hits it from behind, his hand pressing down on your lower back, forcing you to form a perfect arch of your back. “Oh, you are so perfect for me, my beloved.”

You moan out in response as you move your hips to meet his thrust. “Seungie, more, please! Oh! Right there!”

“Yeah? Right there?” His husky voice causes your cunt to clench around him. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s your spot, isn’t it?”

“Mmmhmm!” You bite down your lower lip, your eyes fluttering close, just as he grabs a chunk of your hair for leverage while his other hand grips your hip. “You fuck me so good, Hee.” You say in a languid slur.

“I know, pretty.” He smirks down at you while his hand searches for your clit to rub it furiously, drawing more moans from you. “I’m gonna cum in you over and over again. You’ll take it like the cum dump you are, will you?”

“Yes.” You nod your head, desiring for him to fill you up to the brim. “Hee, kiss me.” Upon your polite request, he finds it hard to refuse you, and so, with his fingers in your hair, he raises your body until your chest hits his back. He seizes your chin to turn your head to the perfect angle for him to kiss you hard.

“I’m cumming.” You murmur into the kiss, your hand latches onto his wrist as he continues to rub your bundle of nerves.

“Cum with me again, sweetheart.” He pants against your moist lips before you pull away from him and rest the back of your head on his shoulder while your hand reaches up to grip his hair. “Your pussy was made perfect for me and me only.” He continues to deliver his dirty talk into your ear, even as your pussy spasms around him as you come undone with him.

Heeseung feels your body shivering in his embrace. “Are you cold, my beloved?” He asks softly, taking you by surprise at the instantaneous change of his whole demeanour into the gentle, soft-spoken Heeseung that you have grown affectionate for.

“Yes.” You reciprocate in the same tone despite having to regulate your ragged breathing. As you look at him, the gentleness in his eyes is fleeting before the familiar darkness takes over.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” Within a matter of seconds, he has you settled on his lap and wastes no time in burying his cock into you as he forces you down.

“Seungie.” You whine before he seals you into a kiss, gradually turning into a sloppy make-out session as you feel the sheer exertion from all the fucking.

“Pretty girl,” He sighs pleasurably against your lips, smirking as he slowly bucks up his hip and allowing you to feel his tip hitting your cervix, eliciting a broken gasp from you. “Let’s fuck some more.”

Lee Heeseung is a beast under the disguise of doe-eyed Bambi, you think.

Having the whole palace to yourself is something you never expected. Apparently, Heeseung had to attend a knights’ soirée where only exclusive members were invited, including the alumni, which would be hosted at a private bungalow owned by Sunghoon. That also explains the reason why Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon have been far from your reach since they have been busy planning and organising for the soirée.

Still, you feel a tad sullen that the three of them couldn’t be bothered to call you just once. Upon having seen your not-so-subtle petulance, Heeseung decided to grant you the liberty to do whatever your heart desires, for as long as you steer clear of the second level, specifically the south wing area.

It is odd since you feel as though he was warning you. Your mind begins to recall your conversation with Heeseung earlier.

“But why can’t I?” You inquire, your lips forming a small pout, while your eyes sparkle with genuine curiosity as you watch him trying to secure his tie underneath his white collar shirt in front of the full-length mirror. You can’t help but narrow your eyes at how his attempt seems deliberate, as though he is purposefully failing at tying it.

Heeseung casts a side glance at you as you are seated on top of the dressing table with your legs swinging back and forth lightly in an airy manner and your palms placed on the edge of the table as you slant your body forward. His cock twitches beneath the confines at how lovely yet luscious you look in a pink floral-printed dress with the hems hiked up above your plush thighs.

“It is more for your sake, sweetheart. Besides, you need to enter the correct passcode for you to be able to gain access to the whole place.” There is an undercurrent of warning along the lines, and you know you ought to exercise prudence. Heeseung narrows his sharp eyes at the crease on your forehead. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I’m not!” You deny, huffing pettily. Deciding to put an end to your niggling curiosity, you decide to direct your focus at his rather flimsy hands that are still tying a knot, to which your eyes twitch in irritation. “Hee, you’ve been trying for the past ten minutes!”

“If only someone is kind enough to help me.” A smirk plays on his lips while mischief dances delightfully in his eyes, and that is when you have an inkling that he has been failing on purpose. “Come on, sweetheart. Do I need to be straightforward and ask you the obvious?”

You playfully narrow your eyes at him, but nevertheless, you gravitate towards him until you stand in front of him. You try to ignore the heat of his gaze on your face as you fall into concentration on tying the perfect knot for him. “Stop staring at me.” You mutter, finally finishing the last touch before you adjust his collar shirt.

“I have eyes, pretty. I can stare at you for as long as I want.” Heeseung has you trapped with his hands on your waist. Your rosy cheeks flare under the intensity of his dark gaze as he pulls you closer until your body is flushed against his. “I’m gonna miss you, pretty.”

You scoff lightly as you ignore the untamed butterflies in your tummy. “You're only going to be gone for a day.”

“A day is too long.” Heeseung dips his head down to press a chaste kiss at the corner of your lips. "Mmmhm, maybe I should stay here with you.”

“Heeseung.” You attempt to push him away in the chest, but he doesn’t deter in the slightest as he proceeds to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss. You melt against him with your arms hooked around his neck. “You should go now, handsome.” You manage to speak in between kisses.

“I should.” He agrees before he slowly backs you up without breaking the passionate lip lock until your bum hits the edge of the dressing table. He chuckles breathily into the kiss, his lips turning into a smirk. “Maybe in a while.”

And so, ever since Heeseung stepped out of the threshold, you have ventured your pursuits in your way around the palace with an unbridled enthusiasm ─ playing in the arcade, watching a romcom movie in the private theatre, cooking a simple dish in which you failed miserably, and you even went to their private bar where you attempted at making a cocktail of your own recipe, or at least you tried to, and it tasted rather questionable.

But the enjoyment of having the palace to yourself soon diminishes, hurling you into a state of boredom. It’s even worse when your heart yearns for the four men who manage to weasel their way into your heart despite their differences.

A sigh leaves your lips as your boredom has reached its peak, prompting you to lean forward to grab the controller and switch off the television that has been going animated idly. You rise from the velvet couch and stretch out your limbs before checking the time on your phone, seeing that it has struck 11pm. You have been made aware by Heeseung that he would return late, and so you begin to make your way to the stairs with the intention of heading to your room.

Just as you reach the second level, your phone vibrates in your grasp as it chimes loudly, shattering the quietude. Naturally, you expect the notification from either of the four men, but as soon as your eyes fall to your phone screen, the smile on your lips falters.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s been quite some time since our last text. Missed me, sweetheart?

Now that you are firm in your presumption that this is definitely not Heeseung, a flare of temerity surges through you. With a scowl on your face, you proceed to type out your reply.

Y/N: No, and I know you’re not Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: So you’re absolutely certain that I’m not him? Y/N: Yup. So whatever mind games you’re playing with me are not going to work anymore. UNKNOWN NUMBER: I miss you, you know? I’m hurt that you’re being so cold over the text, sweetheart. Y/N: You should really stop acting like Heeseung. UNKNOWN NUMBER: Why? Because he calls you sweetheart the way I do? Does it ever occur to you that I might be him? Y/N: And for what? Heeseung is not the type to waste his time preying on an innocent girl over texts. UNKNOWN NUMBER: 301120

You blink your eyes while confusion fills your head upon seeing the digits.

Y/N: What is it for? UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s the passcode that allows you to gain access to the prohibited part of the palace for anyone, unless you’re a knight.

It seems that your lack of response serves as a hesitation for him before he texts again.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Come on, pretty. I know you want to. Besides, you’ve been thinking about it, right? Forget about earlier. I’m now permitting you.

Pretty. Only Heeseung calls me that.

Y/N: How the hell did you know? UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I might or might not be yours truly :) Now go on. Once you reach, I need you to follow my instructions.

Moments later, you find yourself standing outside of the steel-built door. Your eyes dart down at your phone before you proceed to punch the correct passcode at the smart keypad, and at once, the door automatically opens, but the sight that greets you startles you while every fibre of your being sizzles with perturbation.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: See that white door? I need you to go inside.

You don’t question how he knows your every step, as though he is watching you. You take a glance at the distinct white door that contrasts with the others before you advance forward. He sends a text again, entailing his instructions once more, which you obediently heed. Not long later, you have entered a cold, stagnant office that feels oddly eerie, probably due to how dark it is with the moonlight streaming into the window.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Good girl. Now head over to the desk and unlock the computer. The password is your birth date.

“Huh?” Your face contorts into confusion, but you don’t waste time as you gravitate towards the desk that is adjacent to the window. Although you are eager, you feel rather hesitant, while a sense of dread creeps up on you as though at every twist and turn, you feel eyes watching your every movement.

Y/N: I don’t understand. What is on the computer that you need me to do instead of you? UNKNOWN NUMBER: Less typing, more doing the work, sweetheart. Now, I want you to search for the file named 001 and click on it.

“What?” You whisper, and your heart seems to pound erratically against your chest. You don’t want to believe in his words, but your inner turmoil states otherwise. And so you proceed on, your trembling fingers typing on the keyboard, before you finally succeed in logging in.

The screen displays files that have been arranged in rows. Your eyes search for the aforementioned file before you spot it near the corner. Your hand moves the mouse on the pad to click on it, but once it does, a pop-up webpage appears, requiring you to enter the passcode. You lean back against the swivel chair as you await his next instruction, but minutes have passed and you receive zero notification.

With an impatient huff, you decide to take charge and type in the passcodes you have in mind, but none of them is the right one. Right after your third attempt, you become startled at the warning popup that you have exceeded the number of attempts. Your phone chimes again, and when you look over, his contact shocks and alarms you.

HEESEUNG: Are you asleep, sweetheart? I’m on my way back, and I have a little surprise for you. You’ll see the surprise once you wake up.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath before deciding to forgo everything Anonymous has instructed you, despite your curiosity about wanting to know what sort of content the mysterious file contains. It even remains lingering in your mind as you are cocooned in your fleecy blanket before you drift off to your deep slumber, uncertain of what tomorrow awaits you.

“We’re the ones who organised the event, and yet they’re the stars of the show.” Jake expresses his clear disdain towards the four familiar elders from afar, who are being surrounded by the other alumni as well as their fellow knights. “Maybe we shouldn’t have invited them.”

“You’re right.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly, leaning his back against the chair leisurely with one leg crossed over the other. His callous eyes penetrated into his father’s face. “Maybe I should’ve drugged his drink and killed him.”

“Easy.” Jay says, his eyes holding a warning as he looks over to an annoyed Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t have stopped you anyway, but Heeseung said to steer clear of trouble for tonight.”

Sunghoon snorts a chuckle as he reaches for his glass of wine. “What did I say? The guy would turn soft because of Y/N, and I was right.”

“He always has a soft spot for Y/N.” Jake tells them quietly, and the mention of your name pulls the strings in his heart as he has long since yearned for you. “He likes her even before the preying.”

“And you know this, how?” Jay inquires with a single eyebrow arched, his tone sounds mocking enough to elicit an irritation from Jake. “Right. You and Heeseung must’ve shared secrets during your one-night stand.”

“Fuck you, dude.” Jake cusses out but remains seated, to which Sunghoon is surprised at his lack of retaliation.

“Where is Heeseung, anyway?” The aforementioned disappearance dawns on Sunghoon as he darts his eyes around his surroundings.

“He probably went for a smoke break.” Jay shrugs his shoulders, one hand in his pocket while the other is holding his e-cigarette, before he begins to take a puff of the flavourful aerosol.

“Heeseung.” Jake spots him entering the main section of the soirée, sauntering towards them with ease while his face remains collected. “Where were you?”

“Got a little busy.” Heeseung’s vague answer doesn’t seem to bother them. He settles on a chair next to Jake, his body facing in the direction where his father can be seen in an amiable element. “Wanna know something interesting?”

“Don’t keep us waiting.” Sunghoon’s interest is piqued as he leans his body forward. “What is it?”

A smirk plays on Heeseung’s lips while his fingers are tapping on the table in a calculated motion. “It looks like our angel decided to be a curious kitten and got herself into trouble.”

“What did she do?” Jake inquires, his eyebrows softly knit together as he grows concerned for you despite knowing that you may or may not have broken a rule or two in Heeseung’s book.

Heeseung merely hums in response as he brings his glass of champagne to his lips before taking small sips. Thankfully, he is able to receive a notification from an app that allows him to view any point he wants since he has implemented hidden cameras in his office, or else he wouldn’t have been alerted of your transgression.

“Isn’t that Y/N’s mother?” Jay’s surprised inquiry draws their attention to the lady, whose body is draped in a red satin dress, as she strides across the hall as though she owns the place. There is such a stark contrast in the ambience she exudes compared to her daughter.

Sunghoon lets out a low whistle, his eyes raking all over her. “Damn. She looks even better up close. Now we know where Y/N got her looks from.”

“Fucking hell. Don’t tell me you’re into milfs?” Jake shoves Sunghoon roughly in the shoulder as his face contorts into disgust.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Jay seems rather enraged by her presence, as evident in the way he clenches his jaw while his steely eyes drill into her figure. “She’s the reason why Y/N was a crying mess that one night.”

“Heeseung.” Sunghoon utters his name as they look at him. Although they are the leaders as well, they innately feel compelled to obey and heed Heeseung’s words.

Heeseung simply adorns a simper smile on his lips while he watches your mother engage in what seems like a polite conversation with his father and theirs, but he is no stranger to the longing and lingering stares exchanged between them. “Let’s sit back and watch the whole thing unfold, shall we?”

When morning dawns, the fresh yet lovely fragrance pervading your nostrils rouses you before you flutter your eyes open and turn your head to the side, only to be greeted by the sight of a bouquet of roses at your nightstand.

Any remnants of somnolence dissipate as you are overwhelmed with a giddiness that blooms in your chest. So this was what Heeseung meant by his surprise. Eager to see him, you hop into the shower and freshen yourself up. It takes some time for you since you faced a little difficulty in choosing the casual dress of the day, knowing that Heeseung loves it whenever you wear one.

As soon as you reach outside his room, you see the door ajar before you knock to announce your arrival. “Hee?” Just as you slowly push open, the door swings abruptly, causing you to fall forward into him before he swiftly holds you steady.

“Seungie!” You greet him cheerily, your face beaming a smile that brings a fond one to his lips.

“A good morning, indeed.” Heeseung chuckles before he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate with fervour. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes softening with adoration as he caresses your cheek. “How was my surprise?”

“I love it! Thank you so much.” You grin bashfully before caving into your impulse to kiss his cheek. “How was last night?”

“It was fine, but it would have been better if you were there with me.” His face burrows in the nook of your neck while his arms cage your waist as he embraces you. “Now I have all day with you.”

In all honesty, you should have kept your distance from him after what happened last night. The maelstrom of inquiries rampages within the confines of your mind; each is a task to grapple with. You refuse to believe that the anonymous person is him since it is illogical, but a part of you strongly believes that Heeseung is him, merely because he permitted you by giving you the access code and called you ‘pretty’ when only Heeseung loves calling you that, and so you back away from his touch.

You see him raising his eyebrow at you, probably noticing the abrupt change in the way you are being, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m hungry. Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You ask politely, trying your utmost not to cower from him as he steps closer to grab your hand.

“I would love to.” Heeseung intertwines your fingers, a firm latch that has you acquiescing. It is frustrating to you because, despite your current firm belief that he is the anonymous guy, another part of you indignantly wants to be closer to him.

As his arm slithers around your waist, you hesitantly allow yourself to lean into his touch. Maybe it won’t hurt for you to sinfully enjoy the intimate closeness with the guy who you believed had been the one who creeped you out all along.

As time passes, you feel a sense of imminent loom, especially in the way Heeseung acts and how he plays his words in riddles that are awfully like Anonymous did, so it only amplifies your unwavering presumption.

“Where are we going?” You ask as you trail behind him. You try to sound as if you’re curious, but in actuality, you recognise the route he is taking as he seemingly guides you.

“To the wonders of horror.” Heeseung looks over your shoulder with a sly grin. Again, you are thrown into the whirlwind of confusion at his words, which is evident on your face and brings out a lighthearted chuckle from him. “I’m kidding, but aren’t you curious about what the prohibited part of the palace holds?”

You give him a bewildered stare. “But you said that I should steer clear of the south wing.”

“And I’m permitting you now.” His words give you a whiplash. “Don’t worry. I’m obviously one of the authorizers, so you won’t be getting into trouble.” A smirk touches his lips.

It isn’t long before you finally reach outside of the familiar steel-built door. Despite knowing the passcode, you look away as he proceeds to punch in the code on the smart padlock before hearing the door automatically open.

You clear your throat as you fall in the same steps as him. “I didn’t expect for the inside to be this big.” You remark, feigning surprise in your tone as you ostensibly look around in wonderment.

“Only the knights have access to this place.” Heeseung informs you, and from the looks of it, he seems to believe in your ruse. “We have five meeting rooms in total. Four for our respective house meetings and one for general meetings, which we usually gather on every Devil’s Night.”

“I see.” You nod your head in understanding the new information. Heeseung proceeds to give you more information with each room you walk past. You shudder lightly when he points out the rooms where they store different classes of weapons.

“That’s my office.” Heeseung tells you as he points his thumb in the direction of where the familiar white door is. “Regular knights aren’t permitted to enter unless they want to face the consequences.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat harshly. “Oh.” is what you manage to utter. Thankfully, Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice the tremor in your voice as he proceeds to guide you in the other direction, where his house meeting room is.

You look away just as he punches in the code on the smart padlock before the door opens, allowing you to enter first. “Why did you bring me here?” You ask as you remain stationary in your spot, your eyes examining the room and noting how spacious it is with lavish ornaments, including velvet couches arrayed at each side, distinct designed masks and paintings hanging on the walls, and a fairly lengthy table with a glossy marbled surface that is in the centre of the room.

“Oh, you know, just showing you what’s in this room before you could get too curious again.” Heeseung states calmly as he saunters towards the table, whereas you go completely frigid at the undercurrent that coils dread in you. “This meeting room is soundproof.”

As Heeseung finally faces you, his hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans his lower back on the edge of the table, allowing you to get a clearer discernment of his demeanour that drains the colour of your face.

He knows.

“Why did you tell me that?” You inquire, and your voice shakes with a palpable tremor that brings him wicked delight.

“Because I would hate for you to lose your voice from screaming so much.” A fleeting smile of wickedness touches his lips before a shadow casts over his demeanour. Your pulses drum in your ear as you notice the drastic shift in his gear, as though he is an entirely different person. No longer is there warmth or affection in his eyes. Just stark coldness.

“Heeseung….” You utter his name in a splintered whisper, taking one feeble step back, as if taking prudence in any case he decides to chase you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t think that I wouldn’t know?” Heeseung adorns a cynical smile on his hauntingly cold countenance.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words fly from your mouth without any warrant, causing you to bite down on the flesh of your inner cheek.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about. But I want to hear the confession from your mouth.” You can see it in his eyes—the storms raging in silence at your audacity. “Did you trespass on my office, Y/N?”

Not sweetheart, pretty, or even beloved. Just your name being uttered in a cold detachment that is painfully foreign to you.

The unsettling tension feels oppressive as it tethers your neck, while the fear that resides in your heart manifests in the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee him, but it is as though you are rendered immobilised under his piercing gaze that is fixed solely on your transfixed figure.

Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you swear that the cold temperature in the room has dropped to subzero. The longer the penetrating silence that shrouds the foreboding atmosphere in the room persists, the more reason for you to grasp the opportunity to escape, especially since he is further away from you and most probably unable to catch up to you.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” His once honeyed-dripping tone sounds eerily dark, with a rasp projecting in his husky voice, evoking involuntary yet familiar lust amidst the palpable terror. “Did you, or did you not trespass on my office?”

“I─” Just when you finally find your voice, it disappears again, prompting you to smack your lips shut and swallow the frightful lump in your throat. Your nails digging into your palms form the shapes of crescents as you clench your fist.

Confusion finds its way to plunge into the whirlpool of torrential emotions within you. You were certain that he was the anonymous guy who had been sending you all those texts, and you even followed his instructions. Could all of these be some sort of twisted test he decided to experiment on you?

Of course, it could be. After all, Lee Heeseung is as detrimental as his comrades.

You mentally nod your head to yourself, firm in your suspicion that Heeseung is indeed the anonymous guy, but you’re not about to let it be known to him.

“I didn’t─”

Heeseung scoffs out a chuckle at your audacity, his lips upturning a smirk while his eyes gleam dangerously with explicable sentiments that have you fully grasping the severity of your situation.

“What did I say about lying? Hmm?” He leans away from the table, his hands remaining tucked in his pockets, as each step he takes towards you is deliberate and stalking, while his dark, piercing eyes penetrate into your frightful ones.

Run! Your mind screams at you to run away from your predator before he devours you.

“T-That you hate liars.” Your timorous voice shakes as you finally regain mobility, now taking steps back. You see it in his eyes — how he finds great delight in your patent fear while the smirk on his wicked yet charming countenance remains.

“And yet you dared to lie.” He tuts, unceasingly stalking towards you, to which you grasp the courage and dash for the door. “Oh, sweetheart, why bother trying when you know you can’t escape?”

You ignore his taunting words from behind as you grasp the handle and try to pull it open, but the familiar sound of ‘ding!’ brings a dreadful realisation to you at the high probability that in order to exit, you must enter the correct passcode on the keypad, the same way when you two entered earlier.

Your pulses drum loudly in your ear as soon as you feel his ominous presence from behind, prompting you to make a run to the side, but his hands manage to seize you.

“Heeseung! Please!” You frantically implore him, struggling against him as the danger in the heat of his touch on your skin intensifies the churns in your stomach.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, look at me.” Heeseung attempts to calm you down as his grip on you tightens due to your persistent attempts to push him away from you.

A whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, turning away from him, but his patience is running thin. “I said, look at me.” He roughly grabs your chin and forces you to meet his hauntingly beautiful eyes while his tone resonates down your core as it has you in a tight grip.

“I’m sorry for entering your office without permission.” You finally deliver your heartfelt apology to him, hoping that he will show you some clemency. Tears begin to accumulate in your eyes as you pleadingly stare at him. “I’m sorry, Hee. I won’t do it again.”

“I know you are.” He says softly as he caresses your cheek, but even you can discern his hauntingly affectionate gesture. “Why are you crying, my love?”

You only whimper in response as a teardrop slides down your cheek, prompting him to gently wipe it away. “You’re terrified of me.” He states, his tone remains eerily soft while a sinister grin smears across his lips before he leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheek. “Mmhmm, as you should be, baby.” He rasps against your skin.

“H-Heeseung.” You weakly utter, attempting to push him away, but the trails of kisses on your cheek down to your neck enfeeble you as you find yourself succumbing to his dark allure that threatens to engulf you wholly.

“Now, tell me, what was your purpose for snooping around in my office?” He asks in between kisses before stopping at where his mark on your skin is. You shiver at the sensation of his sharp teeth grazing on your skin, a silent warning for you to choose your options wisely.

“I was just curious, I swear.” You try your utmost to tell him earnestly, despite knowing that it isn’t the entire truth. Heeseung seems to believe you as he presses a soft, lingering kiss on his mark before withdrawing from you. A hiccup emerges from your throat, and you stare at him remorsefully. “I’m really sorry, Hee.”

“I know, I know.” His hands descend to your thighs before grabbing them. “Jump.” He forces you anyway, which has you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist with his hand holding your waist while the other grips your thigh for more security before carrying you across the room where the centre table is.

It is as though he has bewitched you with some sort of spell, as you are unable to look away from his eyes. His dark allure continues to pull you into him as he sets you down on the table. His hand deftly supports your back from falling behind while your palms are pressed on the surface behind you.

“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your mind fogging with lust and perturbation as his touch on your body feels igniting.

“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have lied to me, and even worse when you tried to run away from me.” He says softly, kissing the back of his mouth while his eyes drink in at how beautiful you look being trapped by him.

Your breath hitches in your throat. “But I told you I was sorry.” You whimper, hating how your desire for him is strong despite your fear.

Heeseung ignores your words as he takes you by surprise when he roughly pulls you to him until your legs go rooted to the floor. A gasp leaves your lips at how deftly he is manhandling you as he turns you around, one hand on your waist tight and fingers curling around your neck in a threatening manner.

Your heart pounds harder against your chest as you feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe. “It doesn’t change the fact that you made me angry, my love.” His honeyed-dripping voice lulls at you, akin to a siren serenading its victim.

“Oh, yes. I’m still very angry at you.” He whispers darkly into your ear before he forces your pliant body to bend down until your stomach comes into contact with the surface of the table.

“Heeseung, please.” You have no idea why you are pleading with him. For him to show mercy? For him to fuck you?

His dark chuckles send shivers down your spine as he presses his palm firmly onto your back while the other affectionately rubs your butt cheek. “Plead all you want. By the time I’m done with you, you know better than to cross me again.” You feel his hand moving underneath your skirt before his fingers hook around the string of your underwear. “What’s the safe word?”

“Pink.” You utter, flustered at the fact that you actually do want this. At once, he pulls down your underwear as it falls to your ankles. Your heart races in anticipation as you hear shuffles behind you.

“Sweetheart's been bad. You shouldn't have gone around snooping.” He drawls his words out in a tantalising manner, and you feel your cunt clench at the degradation that laces his tone. His fingers tangle in your hair before bunching the strands in a makeshift ponytail and pulling your head to the back with your neck arched.

“Hee….” You whisper fearfully, yet your cunt remains anticipating his cock. You feel the weight of his body pressing down on yours and his warm breath hitting the shell of your earlobe.

“My pretty sweetheart,” He presses a deep, affectionate kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “You’re going to be good to me, yeah?”

“Yes!” You nod your head frantically, wincing as his grip on your hair hurts your scalp.

“You’re not going to make me angry anymore?” He asks, humming while your pussy throbs when the tip of his cock rubs up and down in between your folds tantalisingly slowly.

“Yes, I won’t make you angry anymore.” You babble, needing him inside of you right now, before enticing him with a soft, whimpering voice you know he won’t be able to resist, “Seungie, please─Ah!”

Blistering pain shoots into your hip bones as they hit the edge of the table with the ramification of his shallow thrust, your walls stretching painfully to adjust to his girth upon the abrupt breach. Without any ounce of clemency in the delivery of your punishment, he begins to rail into your tight cunt, your walls are practically vacuuming his cock with each shallow thrust that hurts so good.

“Ungh! Oh, fuck!” You cry out as your body jolts forward violently, tears accumulating in your lower lids as he relentlessly hits it from behind with an insatiable vigour, while the sound of his balls hitting your jiggling ass echoes throughout the room.

“Dirty, naughty angel. You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.” Heeseung says in between ragged breaths, feeling the wetness along your fluttery walls lathering his cock. Without ceasing his thrust, he delivers a weighted slap on your ass, eliciting a painful yelp from you before he hears sobs spilling from your lips, fueling his lustful depravity into ruining you. “Cry all you want. I’m gonna fucking ruin you and your sweet, filthy cunt for as long as I want.”

“Heeseung! Please!” You implore in between broken moans that mingle with your cries, hating how dementedly rough he is fucking into you and how his demeaning words seem to turn you on as your cunt clenches around him despite the stinging hurt in your chest.

“What the fuck are you pleading for? Dirty sluts like you don’t get to plead.” Heeseung snarls coldly, yanking your hair harder as the action strains your arched neck. The lewd sound of your sopping cunt with each hard thrust he delivers draws a smirk on his lips, one that reflects his cruelty as he revels in the continuous moans and cries emitting from you that resemble a broken record. “Damn, baby. You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”

“No!” You shake your head frantically, but the motion only hurts your burning scalp due to the roots that nearly feel as though they are about to be ripped off. “Heeseung! Stop! It hurts!” You feel utterly helpless as the painful pull of your hair elevates your body, with your back hitting his chest.

“It hurts, yeah? Hurts so fucking good, hmm?” He nearly growls out in your ear as he releases his grip from your hair only for his hand to make its descent to your nub and rubs your bundle of nerves with the padding of his skillful fingers, amplifying your pleasure that hurls you to the new height of delirium.

“Heeseung! Too much! Oh─ungh!” Incoherency leaves the moment he shoves two fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to feel the coldness of the rings that adorned his fingers as he slowly slides them further in, nearly choking you while tears cascade down your cheeks as you sob with a drool of saliva sliding from the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck─” Heeseung throws his head to the back upon the arrival of his impending orgasm, the pad of his fingers pressing down on your tongue while his vigorous rub on your clit hurls you to the edge of your orgasm, urging you to cum with him. “Yeah, baby, cum with me.” He says so huskily, while the desperate yet teetering clench of your cunt around his ruthless cock is a telltale sign of your imminent climax.

You continue to sob with his fingers that occasionally choke you with how deep it is as he continues to whisper obscenity into your ear, intensifying your heightened senses while the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable. “Fucking take it. Take all of it, my perfect little cum dump.”

At once, Heeseung goes completely still with his hips snapping against your behind as he lets out a guttural moan, filling you to the brim as he cums into you while your aching jaw unhinges with your eyes turning white as your orgasm crashes down on you violently, causing your body to convulse in his grasp.

Usually, Heeseung would shower you with compliments of how much of a good girl you are for him, accompanied by his kisses all over your face after the fucking, but this time, his action of slipping his cock from your cunt and his fingers removing from your mouth as he steps away from you feels coldly detached.

Nevertheless, you allow yourself to fall flat onto the surface as you regulate your ragged breathing while you feel the mixture of your cum with his slowly leaking out from your gaping yet pulsating cunt. Tears continue to stain your dampened cheeks as you snivel, hating that you have upset Heeseung and broken his trust.

“I’m really sorry, Hee.” You apologise again in between hiccups, unbothered by the aches and pain in your hip bones that probably formed bruises. Upon receiving silence, you feel defeated, whimpering as more waterwork erupts despite the exertion dawning on your body.

“I didn’t mean to.” You continue, your tone is filled with regret. “I was a fool for thinking that you were him. I thought I was being a good girl by following your instructions because I thought you were him. I thought you were testing me─”

You are cut off at the moment he grabs you by the arm, prompting you to raise your body from lying flat on the table. It appears that he really did a number on you as you find your knees buckling underneath you, but he steadily holds you against him.

“Who?” Heeseung asks sternly, his cold voice deepens the hurt in your chest, as does the look in his eyes. “What secrets are you hiding from me?”

You open your mouth to speak, ready to let him know the truth, but you are cut off by the loud chime of your phone in your pocket. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone and grab it before unlocking your phone screen, only to be greeted with a notification from the one you totally expected.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Great show, sweetheart.

“Him.” You utter in a whisper as you hesitantly show Heeseung the text he sent, uncertain of his reaction as you have your gaze lowered. Great show? What did he even mean by that?

Instead of a response, Heeseung takes you by surprise when he deftly carries you in a bridal style. You cling to him with one arm around his neck while the other cradles your phone to your chest. You look at him, noticing how eerily calm and collected his demeanour is. Reaching the door, he expertly punches the code onto the smart padlock with his finger while his arm underneath the back of your knees continues to support you.

“Are you still mad at me?” You dare to ask amidst the palpable apprehension at his haunting silence. You blink away your tears as you slowly lean your head onto his shoulder. Your mere gesture stirs something in his cold, tainted heart. “I’m sorry, Hee.”

A muscle pulses in his jaw, the entirety of his raging anger that brews storms in the wreckage of his mind is not directed at you this time. “I know.”

The thought of Heeseung appearing in your mind impels you to splash the running water on your face for the third time, as evident in the splotches on your nightgown. You haven’t seen him since morning, and he wasn’t found anywhere in the palace, which only makes you feel more awful than last night. You recall not a single word spoken between the two of you as he brought you to your room, and he didn’t even inquire with you regarding the anonymous guy.

Just thinking about the anonymous guy genuinely peeved you, and yet, you hate yourself for concluding that you believed he was Heeseung. Clearly, you were gravely mistaken when that text came forth last night after the end of the whole Heeseung fucking his anger into you that knocked you out the instant you hit off to bed.

You heave a sigh as you rub your weary face. You know what? Fuck whoever he is. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you give yourself a firm head nod. The resolution in your eyes affirms that you will block and delete his contact number. You proceed to exit the bathroom, keen to return to your bed since the remnants of last night’s exertion are palpable.

Just as you step outside of the bathroom, your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sight of Heeseung seated at the edge of your bed. His outfit denotes that he must’ve been riding his motorbike. His hair looks slightly tousled, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks and adjust them, but you remain rooted to your spot, uncertain how to act next.

When his eyes meet yours, you are taken aback by the stark contrast to how he looked at you last night. He is looking at you with an unmistakable longing, but as his eyes rake all over your body, adorned in an enticing laced nightgown that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage, the hinge of his jaw is locked while his insatiable desire for you swirls in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” The softness of your voice breaks through his impure reverie of you, prompting him to search for your eyes and notice the visible hurt in them.

Heeseung doesn’t respond to your question as he extends his hand to you, beckoning you to him. “Come here, sweetheart.” The familiar affection in his tone compels you to gravitate towards him, and upon reaching within his reach, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you towards him as you find yourself standing in between his parted legs.

Your heart flutters at the adoration gleaming in his eyes as he looks up at you. You can’t help but cradle his cheek as his eyes bore into yours, feeling as though he is staring directly into your soul. In this light, he looks pretty harmless — nothing compared to how he looks whenever he’s in the mood. “You left me alone almost the whole day.” You say, your tone conveys your dejection.

“I’m sorry.” It is the first time he has ever apologised to you with such sincerity. Your heart soars as he leans into your touch with his hand above yours. “I won’t leave you alone again. Let me make it up to you.”

“It’s okay. I’m the one in the wrong for breaking your trust─” You stop mid-sentence when your sharp eyes catch his bruised knuckles with a few yet tiny cuts that seep blood. Your eyebrows softly knit together with concern as you grab his hand. “Hee, what happened?”

Your genuine concern for him pulls at his heartstrings as he watches you fuss over his mere bruise that feels entirely numb. “I had to intervene and help Jay because a group of them were provoking him in the bar downtown, and a fight broke out. You know how he is.” The corners of his lips curve upon seeing your pouty lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We won anyway, and two of them more or less ended up in comas.”

It is as though you are accustomed to the nature of their penchant for violence, as you don’t feel disturbed by his last statement. Silence prevails as you contemplate, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip before you cave in. “Hee, I’m sure you have many questions regarding last night.”

“I do, but─”

“He called me sweetheart and pretty the way you do; that’s one of the reasons why I believed that you were him.” You cut him off in a ramble, wanting him to know the truth urgently. “He played his words in riddles, just as you do. It’s like he’s a carbon copy of you─”

You let out a small squeal when he pulls you down to him, causing you to fall seated on his lap with his arms caging your waist. “Sweetheart, the issue can wait.” His lips coming into contact with your bare chest just above your cleavage arouses the familiar heat in your core. “Besides, didn’t I say I wanted to make up to you for leaving you alone today?”

“But─” A gasp leaves your lips as he deftly has you pinned against the mattress within a matter of seconds. With your hair sprawled out gracefully in tendrils and your doe eyes staring at him with a concoction of confusion and lust, he knows he needs to show his adoration by pleasuring you.

“We can deal with that tomorrow or even the day after, but for now, let me just focus on you, sweetheart.” Heeseung whispers as he leans down, one hand beside your head to support his weight while the other seizes your chin before he presses a kiss so tender yet one full of passion, creating a sensory experience so overpowering that dispels any lingering doubts, questions, and distress as you reciprocate the kiss with equal fervour.

Your hands go winding through his disheveling hair with a movement of urgency as the kiss moltens with intensity, involving teeth and tongues clashing against each other. Feeling his teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, you moan faintly, getting utterly aroused, which has you locking your legs around his.

The make-out ends quicker than you like as he pulls away from your chasing lips, eliciting a whine from you when he moves away from you. “Seungie, please.”

“I know, pretty.” A smirk touches his lips as he stands by the bed, removing his jacket. Just like that, you are quick to remove your own pieces of clothing. You manage to admire his fine glory, shocking you again when you notice how buff his muscles are compared to the last time you saw him at Yeonjun’s pool party. In just a matter of seconds, he hovers on top of you with his lips urgently attached to yours.

“Oh, Hee..” You sigh pleasurably against his lips, feeling the pad of his thumb circling your clit skillfully as he decides to get you even more worked up. “Please fuck me.”

“Patience, baby.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, his lips ghosting over yours before trailing his kisses down your jugular. Your hips buck up at the sensation of his working thumb on your clit while his lips on your sensitive spot on your neck amplify the pleasure building up in you.

“Seungie.” You whine, getting unbearably impatient as he trails down further until he slots his lips over your perky nipple, sending you a jarring sensation at his tongue licking and teething your sensitive nipple. “Heeseung, just fuck me already.”

Heeseung releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, scoffing lowly before casting you a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight, pretty.” He looks down to grab his shaft to line up at your awaiting cunt before slowly pushing inside, your folds warmly welcoming him.

Maybe it has something to do with him being gentle, but the sensation of his cock thrusting into you slowly yet with such skillful precision that allows you to feel the drag of his cock against the wall so distinctly is phenomenal.

“Oh, Hee,” You moan out as you arch your back with your tits pushed out, which his eyes feast upon while he continues to fuck into you. Each thrust feels better than the previous, and there it is, hitting the spot that has you moving your hips in tandem with his. “Just like that, Seungie. You feel so good.”

“Yeah? I’m fucking you good, sweetheart?” His husky voice sends flutters to both your heart and cunt as it clenches around him, eliciting a low hiss from him while you moan loudly in response. Heeseung eyes down at the visible bulge appearing in your abdomen with his unrelenting thrusts. “Look at that.” He smirks, feeling his pride swell. “Sweetheart can’t handle my cock. Oh, I’m bound to ruin you, my love.”

“I can!” You insist vehemently before getting distracted by the padding of his fingers rubbing your clit, igniting your bundles of nerves. “Oh fuck! Hee! More!” You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck, his warm breaths fanning above your lips as he leans down on you with his arm bracing next to your head.

“More?” He asks mockingly, his lips adorning a smirk, before he kisses you deeply, silencing your noise momentarily.

You hum against his lips before you pull away with your head thrown to the back as you moan, feeling the pleasure building to a new height of ecstasy. “Fuck me harder, Hee.”

“Harder? Like this?” Heeseung grunts above you as he delivers a thrust so shallow that it has your walls hugging him tight and pulsating around him. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel so fucking tight.” He thrusts into you harder just as you wished, satisfied to hear your sweet yet lewd sound of pleasure that is like a melody to his ears.

His eyes fall on your parted lips, not being able to resist the urge to kiss you again, swallowing your moans. “Gonna fuck you all night, pretty.” He says so huskily into your panting mouth with your lips parted open, to which he spits into your mouth as you gladly swallow with a moan. “Oh, you are so perfect.” He coos, kissing your cheek deeply before trailing down his kisses to your neck while your heart flutters at his word. “Every inch of you was made for me. You were always bound to be mine.”

Despite how hard and shallow he is fucking into you, each thrust he delivers is a testament to the depths of the feelings he has always harboured for you. His hips snap against yours, pressing you deeper into the sinking mattress beneath your body while you moan wantonly as he doesn’t miss the spot that eventually hurls you to the brink of your orgasm. “Hee, I-I’m─”

“Cumming, yeah?” His husky voice sends vibrations to your neck as he rasps against your skin. “Come on, pretty. Give it to me.” He whispers, his hand descending to rub your clit, amplifying your pleasure as the knot in your tummy threatens to unsnap at any time. “Wanna see you wet the bed, baby. Squirt for me.”

You can feel it in your pelvis as soon as he commands, as though he wields the power to control your body. With a moan so pornographic emitting from you, white-hot ecstasy surges through you as you throw your head to the back with your body arched, clear fluid releasing from you as your body convulses uncontrollably under him.

“Damn, baby. Look at you go.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, smirking as he looks down at your squirting mess staining the bed sheet as well as his pelvis, and yet he doesn’t relent from fucking into you even as your slick arousal has coated his cock.

“Nngh! Seungie!” You try to push him away languidly, feeling overstimulated, but he grabs both your wrists and bounds in with one hand, placing them above your head. “Too much!” You whimper, your hips trying to escape him, but he growls out a warning in response before snapping his hips against yours, going completely still as he cums into you.

“Oh, fuck. Milk my cock just like that, pretty.” He moans as he feels your walls eagerly envelope his cum-spraying cock, dropping his head to your shoulder before peppering your collarbone with kisses. His teeth sink into your skin, eliciting a whimper from you that goes straight into his cock as it twitches inside your cum-filled cunt.

“Hee, please.” Tears prickle in your eyes as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. The squelching sound from your runny cunt is disgustingly lewd, but at the same time, it arouses you as your hips betray you as they move sensually in tandem with his.

“I’m gonna be loving you all night, beautiful.” His tone is filled with such affection and sincerity that it causes your heart to swell. He presses a deep, fluttering kiss on your cheek while his thrust doesn’t let up. “Worship your body all night as I should, because you’re just so fucking perfect. So perfect, and rightfully mine.”

“I’m yours, Hee.” You manage to utter before he captures your lips, sealing the entirety of your fate as he tethers you to his.

“Thank you.” You thank the cashier with a smile, forgetting that she can’t see you due to the dark tinted visor of your helmet, before you grab the plastic bag from the counter and proceed to exit the convenience store in haste, worrying that you had him waiting for longer than you intended.

You spot him, remaining stationary as he is seated on his bike with his long legs on each side planted to the ground in an attempt to provide firmer stabilisation of his motorbike. Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he turns his head towards you, though you can’t see his face clearly with his visor obscuring him. The leather jacket looks taut on him with his arms folded across his chest, and his wholly black leather fit matches yours, making you feel giddy again at the fact that you look like a biker couple, with the exception that you’re his backpack girl.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” You stand next to him, showing the plastic bag to him. The intercom built into your helmets allows you to hear each other clearly. “They didn’t have the snacks I was looking for.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Heeseung reassures you before he grabs the plastic bag from you. “Turn around.” You do as he told you, hearing him unzip the black backpack that straps around your shoulder before feeling him stuff the plastic bag into it.

“Are we going back now?” You ask as soon as you mount his bike from behind him. Your arms cling around his body when he switches on the ignition, enjoying the warmth oozing from him.

“Unless you have a place in mind to go to.” Heeseung tells you before he proceeds to ride off, eventually picking up velocity that has you hugging him tighter as you ride against the strong, vindictive wind.

As it’s been more than an hour since he has brought you out for a nightly ride, you decide that it’s time for you to head back. Plus, the exertion that dawned on your body due to how he worshipped you and kept you up all night has yet to dwindle. It is a miracle how you can walk without having to struggle, unlike when you woke up earlier.

“No.” You rest your under-chin on his shoulder while your mere gesture fills his chest with delight. “Let’s go back.”

It takes approximately thirty minutes for you to finally reach their territory, with the opulent gate welcoming you as he proceeds to ride his way to the garage.

All the while, you are lost in your thoughts that aren’t harbouring such distressing matters ever since you have decided to block and delete the unknown number, but not before giving Heeseung your phone to read the entire conversation from scratch.

You recall how deceptively calm Heeseung looked when he noted down the contact number, most probably to track the anonymous down since he did tell you that he’d be entrusting the task to Jake, who has expertise in tracking and hacking anything or anyone.

Now, you feel as though the weight on your shoulders has been lifted off, bringing you a sense of tranquillity. You no longer needed to feel the annoying anxiety plummeting into your chest every time you received a notification from the anonymous guy. You feel better now that you know Heeseung was never him. In all honesty, you can’t wait for Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to come back tomorrow, wanting to spend more time with all of them.

“Sweetheart?” Heeseung pulls you out of your reverie as he approaches you from behind, noticing that you have been staring at the massive grandeur of the water fountain from afar, which is situated in the centre of the encompassing entirety of the palace. “What’s wrong?”

Well, now that you have gained awareness that you have actually been zoning out, an idea pops into your mind, prompting you to look at him with a sheepish grin. “Can we play at that fountain?”

Of course, Heeseung will always give you what you want or need, and so with a soft smirk unfurling his lips, you grab his hand before proceeding to drag him with you, the enthusiasm oozing from you as you lightly skip in your steps while Heeseung only watches you with adoring eyes that soften his features, even as you splash the water at him, drenching his clothes.

“Sweetheart.” He growls out in a playful manner, and the mischief in his predatory gaze sends an adrenaline rush through you. “You’re so gonna get it.”

You squeal just as he charges towards you, prompting you to run away from him despite the fact that the pool of water below you impedes your speed. Your heart nearly lurches in your chest as soon as he captures you from behind, his arms caging your waist as he lifts you up and spins you around with delightful giggles emitting from you.

Setting you down to your feet as the water splashes beneath you, soaking your pants, you turn around with the intention to push him playfully, but he latches his hand onto your waist to pull you closer while the other cradles the back of your head before he smashes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp softly into the kiss.

A symphony of yearning and desire is palpable as he deepens the kiss that deepens the electrifying connection between you and him, while the world fades into insignificance as you get utterly lost in the depths of your passionate kissing.

Just you and him, lips attached, souls intertwined under the moonlight with glinting stars across the divine celestial witnessing this tender intimacy.

The once-liveliness that brought home-filling warmth to the expanse of your shared dormitory with the girls who used to be your best friends has shifted dramatically and is now foreignly cold, with a discernible hostility emanating from the four of you. Distracting yourself from the agonising silence, your eyes flicker down at your forefinger that is now bare of your purity ring, which has long since been in Heeseung’s possession.

Honestly, you should’ve ignored Yunjin’s call that shatters the tranquilly of you being cocooned in Heeseung’s warm embrace with arms around your body as he had you settled on top of him earlier, but something nudged you into accepting her call only to receive a request from her for you to head over to your dorm. Of course, you were about to refuse, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone. Thus, you are now in a position where you are uncertain whether the three of them across from you really do hate you, because if they did, they wouldn’t have looked as worried for you as they do now.

“Whatever it is that you need to tell me, can you hurry up?” You don’t mean to sound impatiently abrasive, but your resentment for their hypocrisy remains a bitter taste on your tongue. “What is so important that you could’ve told me over text?”

“Because what we’re about to tell you is something that we should’ve revealed to you sooner.” Wonyoung’s tone is devoid of the usual warmth; her eyes are unwaveringly searching for yours. “We don’t want to argue with you again, Y/N. So please keep an open mind.”

You unclench your locked jaw, heaving a sigh as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to argue with you girls either. I’m tired. But if this is about you telling me to sever ties with them, then I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave, not until you finally know about it.” Karina states vehemently, prompting you to look at her. The grim expression on her face mirrors the others’.

You frown. “Know about what?”

“About the girl who got herself caught up in a situation just as you are now three years ago.” Yunjin says quietly as she leans her back against the wall with her hands tucked in her pockets. “They preyed on her the way they did you.”

You can feel something painful pulling your heartstrings, but you remain silent as Yunjin continues, “But their preying on her lasted for a short period of time. Just like you, she was ensnared by their dark allure, and by the time she tried to escape, it was too late.”

“I’m sure you saw her, or at least have heard about her before.” Karina quips. “She used to be in Julie’s clique.” You remember Julie. She was one of the university's former queen bees, along with the others, before they transferred to another university for some reason.

“And the girl that we’re talking about? She was my best friend since high school until we drifted.” Wonyoung adorns a bitter smile while her eyes glisten with nostalgia as she looks at you. “Her name was Jinae.”

The name rings a bell to you, but you are not entirely certain. In all honesty, your freshman year was only filled with pure academics; you were always eager to head back to your dorm after classes ended just to hole up in your room and be surrounded by books. Rarely, or perhaps not once, were you tempted to get involved in gossip or anything that wasn't beneficial to you.

You release a sigh as you unfold your arms. “So what? If this is you trying to make me jealous because they shared a girl in the past, just stop. You can’t do anything to change my feelings for them.”

“This isn’t about a matter of jealousy.” Wonyoung shoots you a scowl. “This is about the grave danger you might be in, all because you blindly fell for their trap and even caught feelings for them.”

You try your utmost to quell your anger while maintaining a composed posture. “Pray tell, what danger awaits me? I’m still alive, aren’t I?” The mockery in your tone seems to tick them off as you continue. “And why the hell should I know about this Jinae girl?”

“Because we don’t want you to end up like her.” Karina says so somberly.

“End up like her? What do you mean?” You ask adamantly, wanting them to get straight to the point. “Did she transfer to another university or drop out?”

“Worse.” Wonyoung looks down at her hands on her lap. “She’s dead.”

“It’s the exact reason why we’ve been trying so hard to tell you to stay away from them before you get caught deep in their trap.” Yunjin adds.

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before the anger comes as you clench your fist. “So what are you implying?”

“Can’t you see, Y/N? She’s dead because of them!” Wonyoung exclaims, startling you with her outburst. Her eyes are glistening with tears, as though the pain of the loss of her ex-best friend is still fresh. “They killed her!”

“You’re kidding.” You release a sardonic chuckle, shaking your head while your heart begins to pound harder against your chest. “What the fuck, Wonyoung? You’re trying to scare me again by making up a story?”

“She’s not lying, Y/N.” Karina retorts sternly, eliciting a scoff from you. “Jinae’s dead because of them.”

“Oh, spare me your hypocrisy.” You snarl coldly at her as you find yourself rising from the seat. “You were the one who encouraged me to get closer to Sunghoon to make Jaeyun jealous in the first place! And now you’re trying to act like you’re principled enough to condemn me just as the rest, including my parents, did simply because I’m in love with them?”

“You’re in love with them?” Yunjin echoes your words, which finally register in your brain, causing you to falter momentarily, but you decide to brush the matter aside, not wanting to dwell on it any longer and analyse your feelings deeply.

You shake your head, feeling your hand tremble. “I’m not listening to what you have to say next. They may be capable of killing, but they wouldn’t kill someone, let alone a girl, without a reason.”

“So what you’re trying to say is that for as long as there is a reason, it is justifiable for them to kill anyone?” Karina gives you a disbelieving glare. “You’re so brain-fucked over your feelings for them, Y/N.”

“At least I’m happier now.” You snap back. “I’m leaving, and continue to ignore my existence the way you did before, because you were doing a great job at it!”

“Y/N! Please!” Wonyoung takes you by surprise with her urgency and desperation as she catches up to you just as you reach the door. Her hand latches onto your arm. When you turn around with the intention of lashing out at her, you flinch at the tears filling her eyes. “You’re right. I can’t do anything to change your feelings for them, but I don’t want to lose you either.”

A part of you softens up, nudging you to hug her, but the recollection of her words and her cold detachment surfacing in your mind impels you to yank your arm from her. Refraining from uttering another word at her or any of them, you swing the door open and storm off.

Reaching the elevator, you press the button harder than you intended to, and the tension manifests itself in the rising and falling of your chest as you breathe harshly. You refuse to believe their words, and you feel irate at the fact that they truly believed the four leaders, who are evidently head over heels for you, would do anything to jeopardise your life.

As you enter the elevator and press the first level, a disconcerting reality dawns on you, knowing how lethal they are beneath their distinct charms and profound dark allures that serenaded you in the first place. Your head begins to throb as your mind is battling a tempestuous of internal conflict and questions, each vying for their voice to be clamoured in the confines of your mind.

Sighing, you step out of the elevator, noticing not a single student in sight, which is odd, but nevertheless, you navigate your way to the exit. Just as you turn to the right corner, the entirety of the first floor blackens as the lights go out.

A frown pulls at your lips. Strange since the last time this happened was two years ago, resulting in you and your best friends huddling in one room and sleeping on the same bed since they, too, were afraid of the dark.

Your phone rings in your pocket, prompting you to fish it out and see Yunjin’s caller ID. You reluctantly answer her call. “Y/N? Are you still in the building?”

“Yeah, I know. The lights went out, but I’m already making my way to the exit.” You tell her curtly while you feel something feels off, as there is an eerie chill emanating in the dark atmosphere, spurring you to pick up the pace as your pulse drums in your ear. “Hey, Yunjin? I know we're not fine, but can you stay on the line with me for a bit?”

“What’s wrong?” Yunjin sounds worried by the alarming tone evident in your voice.

“Everything’s fine.” You assure her, and in the midst of it, you fail to realise the looming threat approaching you as you are in deep contemplation, your lips tucked between your teeth. “Yunjin, I─”

It happens too fast. One moment you’re walking in haste, and the next something so solid hits you from the back, resulting in you losing your balance before you find yourself falling to the ground as your skulls throb painfully.

A wince leaves your lips as you clutch your head before goosebumps eerily arise on your skin. That is when you feel an ominous presence looming over your figure from behind, propelling you to scramble away from whoever they are. Their identity is wholly obscure with the all-black fit that seems to camouflage with the darkness, but the sound of their heavy-booted footsteps is unmistakable.

“Y/N?” You forget that Yunjin is still on the line, and frantically, you press the phone against your ear with your trembling hand as you try your utmost to fight against the pain.

“Yunjin!” Just as you call out for her, you receive another hit from the side of your head, causing your body to fall flat to the ground from the impact, rendering you paralysed with the heavy weight of your eyelids fighting valiantly to stay open.

The last thing you remember is your phone being snatched away from your hand and a piercing stab of a long needle into the side of your neck before darkness shrouds you wholly.

TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz @kaykay11sworld @firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @superbbananananana @eastleighsblog @in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk @yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously

#the devil’s knights’ prey #enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #enhypen hyung line x fem reader

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queers-gambit · 9 months

Text

Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

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sukirichi · 1 month

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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 018 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, infidelity, defamation, forced incest (please read the chapter first before you come at me 😭), reader uses a gun, alcohol consumption, emotional manipulation, toxic characters and toxic relationships, iris pov (just for a short part), mentions of murder, car accidents

notes. YOOO can you guys believe we are so close to the ending!! thank you guys so much for being so sweet and supportive to dtd! even though ik most of the readers are away and busy with school now (as am i) i still hope you guys enjoy this update hehe. the next chapter drop should be around the regular dtd tuesdays <3

wc. 13k

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[ EIGHTEEN ] no matter how easy things could be if I did, and no matter how guilty I still feel saying it. I wish I hated you.

In hindsight, the day began like any other day in the glorious kingdom of Inarizaki.

The early morning sun cast its golden glow over the streets that bustled with people, the shops opening with smiles and greetings to the familiar faces of loyal customers. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and brewed tea, the distant chime of church bells signalling the start of a new day.

But beneath this serene facade, a storm was threatening to blow – one that would shake the very foundations of the already fragile throne. Iris knew this, too – she could feel it, could extend her hand and have her fingertips brush against her inevitable end.

As the first rays of light filtered through the windows of homes and cafes, Iris watched as the kingdom’s most widely read newspapers hit the stands. The headline had been bold and dramatic, splashed across the front page in large, black letters enough to garner heads turning its way. Who Is The Real Iris Amari? it read, accompanied by a series of photographs that left little to the imagination.

The citizens of Inarizaki began their mind-numbing routine, unaware of the bombshell waiting for them in the morning news. It started slowly, with a few early risers picking up the newspaper and gasping in shock. Unsurprisingly, the scandal spread like wildfire.

The younger ones scrolled through their phones, stopping in their tracks as the news popped up on their screens. The article quickly went viral, shared across social media platforms in the speed of light. It seemed that everyone had something to say about the explosive revelation – Iris’ official portrait decorated on it all.

In a cafe Iris had once loved visiting when she was still a teenager, where morning coffee was usually a time spent with light-hearted chatter and gossip during a faraway era when she still had friends, the atmosphere grew tense and charged. She could’ve been one of them, she thinks, a group of young people huddled together, their voices hushed but urgent. “Did you see the news about Princess Iris?” a woman whispered to her companion, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Her mother involved in a murder? I can’t believe it?”

“Now that they mention it,” mumbled the man next to her, stroking his chin in thought. “It was rather odd that she got married to the Second Prince out of nowhere.”

All across the Kingdom, people gathered in small clusters – their faces a mix of shock, outrage, and disbelief. The photographs shown in the article were damning, capturing moments that painted a grim picture of Princess Iris’ past. One image showed her mother, Kate Amari, in a heated argument with the Late King. Another depicted Iris herself at a lavish party, her expression one of defiance and rebellion.

She’d remembered that party, could recall how the events went crystal clear. She’d been so young, barely nineteen and out of high school, when the impending doom of her fate grew ever near. A few years from now, she would’ve been forced into a marriage with a Prince whose affections she could never win. And what better way to accept her fate than make her mother outraged? So she’d partied, drunk herself to nearly the point of no return, and stumbled back home crying because she’d known. Her fate had been decided from her the moment the Late King slipped from her mother’s grasp, and into the arms of another woman.

She could have never escaped it.

She was nothing but a painful reminder of what her mother could’ve had. I could’ve been his concubine, her mother would cry herself to sleep, screaming those words over and over. Glass would shatter on the walls as she threw another empty bottle of wine over Iris’ head. He said he loved me! He said he would take us home and we would be together as a family!

Such dreams were shattered in the blink of an eye. No matter how much she wailed, and ran after the Late King, it never changed the fact that her mother was the daughter of a lowborn servant, and the Late King had always been majestic from the day he was born.

We were in love, she would tell Iris, brushing her hands through her dark locks – the same shade as the King’s. He’d always loved me, you see. Before the Crown forced him to marry her, you know? The Queen? The one who never smiles? He doesn’t love her, my dear, but he has us. You and me, his precious girls.

Iris thought his mother was delusional. She knew all about it, of course. She’d read her mother’s journals, the love letters the King had penned. She hadn’t been lying that he loved her, once.

The King, merely a Crown Prince at the time, aged sixteen when he first crossed the borders and paid an official visit to the humbler towns of Itachiyama where he met her mother. They’d been young, and foolishly in love. And her mother, illiterate and innocent, had captured the Prince’s heart. He thought her an ideal woman; unstained by ideals, untainted by the law. She knew only how to love him, and for once in his life, he’d felt more of a boy than he was a Prince. He’d made promises he couldn’t keep, promises of running away to the ends of the earth where they could be together.

Like a fool, Iris’ mother held onto his promise. She kept her loyalty even after he’d married the current Queen. She kept chasing after him even after the First Prince – a bastard child – was born. She’d loved him, through and through, until he returned to Itachiyama and made her believe he’d returned for her, only to stumble in the same sheets as Kiyoomi’s mother.

Her mother hadn’t been the same ever since.

She grew obsessed with revenge, throwing herself into a path where redemption couldn’t exist. She’d studied, made a name of herself, and flew to Inarizaki the moment the King had drunkenly put a child into her belly. Not that the King could remember – hence why he never accepted Iris as his own.

But she’d find herself amongst her true family. That was Kate Amari’s promise before the Queen betrayed her, and put her behind bars.

On the busy streets of the capital, pedestrians paused to check their phones, their reactions intense. Some stared in disbelief, while others shook their heads in disgust. A few young people, who had grown up admiring Princess Iris, felt a deep sense of betrayal. “I always thought she was different,” a teenager muttered to his friend. “But this... this is something else.”

The Palace was thrown into chaos as the news spread.

Inside the grand halls, staff members whispered amongst themselves, casting anxious glances towards the royal chambers. Courtiers and advisors rushed to convene emergency meetings, their faces pale and drawn. The Queen, upon hearing the news, simply sat down and pressed her lips into a thin line.

In the markets and town squares, debates broke out as people tried to make sense of the allegations. Some defended Princess Iris, arguing that the writer was anonymous, and the photographs could be doctored. “You can’t believe everything you read,” a shopkeeper insisted, waving his hand dismissively. “This could be a plot to discredit the royal family.”

The others were not so easily convinced. “Look at the evidence,” a customer countered, pointing to the newspaper. “The photographs, the timeline – it all fits. How can you ignore that?”

The debate raged on, with emotions running high on both sides. Some citizens called for Princess Iris to be stripped of her title and brought to justice, while others urged caution and a thorough investigation before jumping to conclusions. It was evident that the Kingdom stood on the brink of a social and political upheaval.

Even as the palace attempted to manage the fallout, the scandal showed no signs of abating.

News channels broadcasted special reports, experts weight in with their opinions, and social media buzzed with speculation and outrage. The Kingdom of Inarizaki had never seen such a scandal, and it seemed that everyone had been swept up in the maelstrom.

In the midst of the chaos, Princess Iris remained secluded within the palace walls, shielded from the public eye as she held a hand to her belly. But the damage was done. The question on everyone’s mind was how the royal family would recover from such a devastating blow – a question not even Iris had the answer to.

She knew one thing, and one thing, only.

She was a Princess, and she’d do anything to keep her place within the Palace walls.

Iris stood by the window of her – your – lavishly decorated room, staring out at the gardens she had once found solace in. The vibrant flowers, the meticulously trimmed hedges, the majestic fountains – all of it seemed like a distant memory now, a world that no longer belonged to her. Instead, a hollow numbness settled deep within her chest, a void where her hopes and dreams once resided.

When Iris first laid eyes on you on the day Rintaro picked you out in a crowded room, she’d thought you were harmless. Dull. Plain. You spoke only what needed to be said, and made no unnecessary movements. Stiff, and boring. She would’ve never thought, or seen it coming, that her damnation would come from the hands of a poor, lovesick girl who’d been lied to.

The heavy footsteps of the guards echoed in the corridor outside, growing louder with each passing second. She knew they were coming for her, to escort her out of the Palace for the last time.

The ornate mirror on the wall showed a reflection Iris could barely recognized – the same as her mother’s eyes had now lost their spark, a face that aged overnight from the weight of the scandal.

The door opened with a creak, and the guards stepped in. She felt their presence more than she saw it, their stern faces and impassive conveying the gravity of her situation. They waited silently, giving her a moment to gather herself, but there was nothing left to gather. Her spirit felt fragmented, her resolve shattered. Now, all she felt was anger hidden underneath a layer of numbness. Don’t look at me like that, she wanted to sneer, I am your Princess. I am the King’s only daughter!

She turned from the window, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were in a dream. Her heart was a heavy stone in her chest, each beat a reminder of the life she was leaving behind.

The corridor stretched out before her, each step echoing with a finality that was almost suffocating. The opulence of the palace, the tapestries, and gilded frames, all seemed to mock her now. She had once walked these halls with confidence and grace, but now, every step felt like a march towards her end. It was all hers – all could’ve been hers – if you never stepped in and took it all away from her.

As she descended the staircase, the memories of simpler times haunted her. The laughter, the never-ending banquets and stock of wine, the promises of a future that had been her birthright – they all seemed like a cruel illusion now. She could feel the eyes of the palace staff on her, their pity and curiosity cutting through the numbness like a knife. Still, she kept her head high, determined to maintain her dignity in these final moments.

The guards flanked her as she reached the main entrance. The heavy doors were already open, revealing the world beyond the palace walls. The bright sunlight was almost blinding. She paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the place that had been her home, her prison, and her battleground.

With a deep breath, she stepped out into the light. The doors closed behind her with a final, echoing thud, sealing her fate. The guards guided her towards the waiting vehicle, their hands gentle yet firm on her arms. She climbed inside, her movements robotic, her mind still struggling to process the enormity of what was happening.

As the carriage began to move, the palace slowly disappeared from view, replaced by the bustling streets of the city. She saw the faces of the citizens, some curious, some indifferent, and a few sympathetic. But none of it mattered anymore. Her life as Princess Iris was over, and what lay ahead was a life she never deserved.

The numbness returned, a merciful shield against the overwhelming reality. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, letting the gentle sway of the carriage lull her into a state of detached calm. The future was uncertain, but for now, all she could do was endure.

Summoned by the royal advisors and members of the council, Iris made her way to the council chamber. As she approached the large, intricately carved doors, two guards pushed them open, revealing a room filled with stern faces and accusatory eyes.

The room was a stark contrast to the rest of the palace. It was dimly lit, with long shadows cast by the flickering candlelight. The heavy wooden table at the center was surrounded by the kingdom’s most powerful and influential figures, all of whom had been convened to address the scandal that had erupted overnight.

“Princess Iris,” one of the senior advisors began, his voice cold and devoid of empathy. "Do you understand the gravity of the situation? The article has not only tarnished your reputation but has also brought disgrace upon the entire royal family."

Iris stood before them, trying to maintain her composure. Her eyes met those of the advisors, seeking any hint of understanding or compassion, but finding none. She nodded, unable to trust her voice to remain steady. She’d already figured this would happen.

“We have no choice,” another advisor interjected. “The people demand accountability, and the council has decided that you must be stripped of your title. This is a necessary step to restore faith in the monarchy.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. Stripped of her title. The enormity of the situation began to sink in, and she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her.

“You can’t,” she croaked out, her throat growing dry. “I-I am married to the Second Prince, and my title is secured. You cannot separate us as divorce is illegal, and if you do so... that would be saying the Prince loses his title, too.”

The advisors shared a look with one another, processing the gravity of her words. “While what you say is indeed true, this is one of those occasions where we must make... necessary adjustments,” the senior advisor said, his glasses pushed up to his nose. “We have already taken measures to fact-check the article and–”

“And?”

The senior advisor glares at her for interrupting. The entire change in attitude was impalpable; now that she’d been scandalized, everyone suddenly lost respect for her. “–And we found that everything written in it was true, just as the photographs are real. We also found records confirming that your mother, Kate Amari, was imprisoned years ago for murder. The King’s murder.”

A bitter, sardonic laugh bubbled from her throat. “I do not deny that, but did anyone ever investigate why she killed him?” A round of gasps echoed through the room at the revelation. “I am willing to bet on my whole life that none of you know how important I am in the royal family, that if it weren’t for me, all of you would be losing your positions and jobs as we speak! It was I who kept all the secrets, the one and only reason you are all able to live your pathetic, worthless lives because none of you know anything! You don’t even know that the Queen you worship reverently is–”

The grand doors of the courtroom creaked open, and the air seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. All eyes turned towards the entrance as the Queen, clad in a dark, regal gown that seemed to absorb the light, stepped into the room. Her presence commanded an immediate, oppressive silence, freezing everyone in their places.

Her gaze, cold and calculating, swept across the assembly, landing on each individual with the weight of her authority. The air was thick with tension as courtiers and officials alike dared not to breathe too loudly, lest they draw her scrutiny. Iris felt her heart seize in her chest, her earlier numbness replaced by a paralyzing fear. The Queen’s entrance had turned the room into a tableau of silent dread, each person awaiting the inevitable judgment that her arrival heralded.

“That is enough,” her cold, heartless voice sweeps across the room. “The final decision has been made. You are no longer allowed to speak another word unless I, the Queen, permits it.”

“Traitor,” Iris sneered, baring her teeth and lunging at the Queen when the guards held her back. “You’re a traitor! This isn’t what we agreed upon!”

The Queen, unfazed, sighs. “Take her away from here.”

Before Iris could protest further, a pair of strong arms escorted her to the grand hall for the public ceremony. The grand hall, usually a place of celebration and state affairs, was now filled with a somber and judgmental crowd. Nobles, courtiers, and even some members of the public had gathered to witness the spectacle. The air was thick with anticipation and whispers.

The whispers grew louder with each step she took. She walked with her head held high, determined not to let them see her crumble.

The queen, stood at the front of the room. She held a scepter in her hand, a symbol of the authority that was about to be wielded against Iris. The ceremony was swift, almost mechanical in its execution.

“Princess Iris,” the queen began, her voice echoing through the hall. “You have brought dishonor to this family and to this kingdom. By the power vested in me, I hereby strip you of your title and all the privileges that come with it.”

With those words, the queen raised the scepter and tapped it on Iris’s shoulder. The symbolic gesture felt like a final, crushing blow. The murmurs in the crowd grew louder, a mix of shock, satisfaction, and pity. Meanwhile, Iris stood, her eyes drawn to the ground as she fought back against the tears that threatened to fall.

She couldn’t believe it. The Queen had broken their agreement, turned back on her word like she did with her Mother. She’d promised her mother to place her within the royal family, then banished her overseas without another word. Now, she betrayed Iris too – arranging her marriage with Kiyoomi, her brother, and took it away from her.

The queen continued, her voice unwavering. “You are no longer Princess Iris of Inarizaki. You are hereby banished from the royal palace, and your marriage to Prince Kiyoomi is annulled.”

The crowd gasped, the severity of the punishment sinking in. Iris raised her head, unable to stop the tear slipping down her cheek. Quickly, she wiped it away. She had to remain strong, if only for the sake of her dignity, because what could she say now? That she was pregnant, and Kiyoomi had to continue with the announcement of ‘the happy news’? She couldn’t – she was stuck in a dead-end corner, and judging by the slight smile playing on the Queen’s lips, she’d already calculated this potential move.

She’d known Iris would never bring up the baby to save herself. Iris would never subject herself to an unwanted pregnancy, keeping up this pretend of sickening act of husband and wife with her brother any longer. If she did, the Crown would pressure her to have another child – one with Kiyoomi this time around, assuming that Rintaro would be disposed of soon enough.

Iris couldn’t go that far.

The Queen, as always, got what she wanted and won.

As the ceremony concluded, Iris turned and walked out of the grand hall. The heavy doors closed behind her with a resounding thud.

Her mind raced with thoughts of what to do next. Where would she go now? Her mother was gone, and she had no allies, made no friends. Maiko could’ve been someone to run to, but even the foolish kid had been too enamoured with you to ever have any loyalty for her. But she refused to let it end like this. She had to clear her mother’s name, to reveal the truth about the queen’s crimes.

She wasn’t going to let it end like this.

With her title stripped and her future uncertain, Iris vowed to fight back. She would uncover the secrets buried deep within the palace walls, expose the queen’s treachery, and reclaim her honor. As she walked away from the palace, the whispers of the crowd still echoing in her ears, Iris walked onwards with newfound resolve. She might have lost her title, but she had not lost her spirit. The battle for her mother’s honor and her own redemption had only just begun.

She would take back what was hers.

The palace was sent into a whirlwind of chaos after Iris’ deposition.

You and Kiyoomi stood in the hallway of Belleview Manor, observing the frenzy. Servants moved like automatons, their faces set in grim determination as they hauled the remnants of Iris’ belongings out of her quarters, tossing her clothes and personal items into hastily arranged piles.

You watched as delicate dresses were carelessly bundled, precious trinkets thrown aside, and keepsakes unceremoniously discarded. Your eyes fell upon a particularly cherished item – a framed photo of a younger Iris and what appeared to be her mother. Their faces were lit into smiles, Iris’ smaller hands held tightly within her mother’s. It struck a chord of guilt within you, and you stepped forward, halting a servant who was about to toss it aside.

“Leave it,” you mouth silently, taking the photograph from the bewildered servant’s hands. Clutching the frame, you held it tightly to your chest, looking up at Kiyoomi with wide eyes.

It’d been less than a week since the news spread of Iris’ abrupt leave. The Queen had stripped her off her title, and the entire Kingdom had been harsh in their glee over it. It was ruthless, needless to say, how easily they turned on Iris – who was once their Princess – the moment the article had been released. She went from being adored to being shunned to the point that even Itachiyama had closed its doors on her.

But wasn’t that what you wanted?

You’d been so desperate to keep Kiyoomi away from her grasp. Now, you’d succeeded. Iris had left, your room was now yours again, and any traces of the brunette finally disappeared.

And yet... why did none of it feel good? You weren’t proud, weren’t happy.

Outside, the commotion was no less intense. The air was thick with whispers and hurried conversations, the scent of scandal permeating every corner of the palace grounds. Meanwhile, Kiyoomi watched it all unfurl with a cold dispassion, as if he was merely an observer.

Your heart ached with a pang of pity as you glanced at him, but there was no time to dwell on it. In the span of forty eight hours, he’d lost his wife, and was pushed to being another pawn again. That part you hadn’t thought through – Kiyoomi may have been freed from Iris, but who was to stop the Queen from marrying him off to another woman? The political crisis between Itachiyama and Inarizaki was temporarily resolved the last time he’d went there, when you went there, but that had been months. And now, with the recent issue of Itachiyama being shamed for having such ‘lowborn people’ like Iris, none of it was getting better.

A small voice in your head urged you to find Iris, to offer some semblance of comfort or understanding. Gripping the photograph tighter, you make your way to your car, wondering where Iris might have gone after experiencing such a public humiliation.

Just as you were about to open the car door, a firm hand grabbed your arm. You turned to see Kiyoomi right behind you, his face etched with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to find Iris.”

“No,” his grip tightens with urgency, already slamming the car door shut behind you. “You shouldn’t go anywhere. It’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous? What’s going on?”

“She’s not going to let this end,” he murmurs silently, pulling you into his chest as he looks around warily. He didn’t need to elaborate; the gravity of the moment was clear. The scandal, the disgrace, it was spreading like wildfire. There was no telling where it would end or what further damage might be done.

“Kiyoomi... Did I do the right thing?” you ask him, brow furrowing as your palms grew sweaty. “I-I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I know it would’ve gotten your marriage annulled with her, but... I don’t know what they’re going to do her, Omi. Will she be alright out there?”

Kiyoomi’s lips press into a thin line. “She will be, but I can’t guarantee things will stay the same,” he pauses, as if hesitating, then reaches to comb his hair back. “Listen. Iris is not going to take any of this lightly. There’s no telling what she will do next, but I can guarantee that none of us are safe here.”

You bite your lip, pondering it before you decided, “I still need to go.”

“Where will you go?” Kiyoomi lets go of your hand, not wanting to stop you, but not entirely willing to let you leave either. Instead, his shoulders sagged, his eyes pleading. “Just... Stay here with me. Or at least let me accompany you.”

You shook your head. You’d just freed Kiyoomi from the ties that bound him; if you dragged him with you again, then this would never end. This was something you had to solve for yourself, but if Iris couldn’t be found , then you had to start with him. “I need to find Rintaro. He still has a child with her, Omi. We don’t know how he’s handling the situation right now.”

Kiyoomi’s lips pressed into a thin line. Sighing through his nose, he seemed to have an internal debate before he closes his eyes. “Okay. I’ll come with you.”

“No, it’s...” you insisted, “I think you should stay behind.”

Silence stretches between you both. For a moment, it looks like Kiyoomi wanted to say more, but chose not to. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt you – the way he closed off on himself, his walls put up so high you could barely look past it. But what could you do? And Kiyoomi, too, must’ve known this was a losing game. Forcing a smile on his face, he nods.

“Call me if you need anything.”

You smile at him gratefully, photograph still clutched to your chest before opening the car door. Then, you sped out of the driveway and called Rintaro, unsurprised that it went straight to voicemail. You tried asking the twins, even Kita, anyone who might’ve known where your husband was. But alas, none of them had the slightest clue. The last they saw of him was just before Iris was taken away by the guards, hovering behind her with an impassive look on his face.

He’d shortly disappeared after that. None of your texts and calls came through.

Jaw clenched, you turned on the location tracker you’d placed on his phone that time before you left for Itachiyama, mindlessly turning on the radio in case there’d been any reported sightings. You tuned in, letting the music fill the space in the air.

You gripped the steering wheel, your knuckles stiff with tension. You’d been driving for what seemed like hours now, eyes scanning the roads and alleys, searching for any sign of Rintaro. Fatigue weighed heavily on you now that the sun had long set, your eyelids drooping and your body aching from being sat for so long. Still, the tracker on your phone remained stubbornly blank, offering no direction to head in.

Just as you decided to turn back, the car radio crackled to life. The unmistakable voice of Iris filled the vehicle. You immediately went still, your heart pounding in your chest. You quickly pulled over to the side of the road, your breath catching as you listened intently.

Greetings, citizens of Inarizaki. It is I, Iris Amari, your former Princess and representative of Itachiyama. As you all know, I have recently been stripped of my titles now that the history behind my mother’s sudden disappearance has been uncovered.

A short pause.

I confess that I am guilty of manipulating the Crown Prince out of my boredom. The truth is, I was in a loveless marriage with the Second Prince, and I was lonely in the Palace when my husband would leave me to entertain myself for weeks, sometimes months on end. A lonely woman could only endure so much, and the Crown Prince was always there – warm, welcoming, and as lovely as he’d been when we met during our school years. I couldn’t help but seek out his company, even when he’d already married the Yuzuru heiress. After all, I knew my marriage with the Second Prince was hopeless. He would never speak to me, much less look my way – an arrangement I was satisfied with as long as it meant I could remain being a Princess.

You leant back in your seat, gnawing at your lip as you hung on to every word she said.

Now, to answer the question everyone has been dying to know: how did a no-name foreigner like me marry into the Royal Family? The truth is simple. I am the King’s only daughter, and Her Majesty the Queen manipulated my desperate, lovesick, and heartbroken mother to do her bidding. They’d both been victims of the King, their hearts toyed with until they were fueled with anger.

Your grip on the steering wheel loosened. Glancing at Iris’ photograph on the passenger seat, you stared hard at her features – green eyes, loose and dark wavy hair, almost with the same pattern of Kiyoomi’s curls. Looking at her now, Iris had always looked so... familiar. And that thought – or realization – alone, had your mouth drying.

But if they were both the King’s children, and they were married... A gasp fell from your lips.

Was that why Kiyoomi refused to touch her? Why he’d looked at her, repulsed and paling like she was vermin? It hadn’t been because she was, but rather because she was his sister.

The Queen, having had enough of her husband’s affairs and mistreatments, ordered my mother to murder him under the promise she would welcome me into the Palace. My mother did as she was told, concerned only with securing her daughter’s future, but the Queen betrayed us. Shortly after the King died, the Queen banished my mother from Inarizaki and put her behind bars to ensure her silence.

As a last resort to somewhat keep her end of the deal, she then enrolled me in Inarizaki Private Royal Academy to learn about how to run the country as a future Princess. Years later, after I graduated, she arranged my marriage with Prince Kiyoomi, my half-brother.

Now this all begs the question regarding the recent cheating scandal of the Crown Prince: if I’d known all this time that I was the King’s daughter, did I not seduce my own blood and flesh?

You may think so, but the Queen keeps a plethora of lies to keep this Kingdom running – one of her secrets being that she never had a child with the Late King, and Crown Prince Rintaro is nothing but a fraud. He is not of royal flesh and blood. He is nothing but a boy picked up on the streets to become the Queen’s puppet.

When the announcement ended, the music previously playing stuttered before continuing to where it left off. You sat there, stunned in silence with your mind reacing.

The sound of your heartbeat filled your ears, loud enough that it pulsed with the vehicle’s hum. Suddenly, your phone flashed with a notification – the tracker had located Rintaro. Adrenaline surged through you, and you slammed your foot on the gas, the car lurching forward as you sped off.

Now that Rintaro’s secret was out, you needed to find him first before the police did.

You drove through the dimly lit streets, your surroundings growing increasingly desolate. The familiar cityscape gave way to the outskirts, a labyrinth of abandoned warehouses and crumbling buildings. Shadows loomed large, casting eerie shapes that seemed to dance in the periphery of your vision. Your anxiety grew with each passing mile, the unease settling like a heavy weight in your chest.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, you forced yourself to take a deep breath.

The once smooth road turned rough and pitted, each bump jarring your already frazzled nerves. The neon glow of the city was long behind you, now replaced by the flickering, sporadic streetlights that only deepened the shadows.

After what felt like forever, you’d finally reached your destination – a decrepit building that looked to have been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up, and graffiti marred its exterior. Despite its appearance, the low thump of music resonated through the walls, a steady, booming pulse that hinted at life within. You parked your car and stepped out, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar surroundings.

The building loomed over you, dark and foreboding. You balled your fists at your sides, trying to steady your frantically racing heart.

As you approached the entrance, you were greeted by a hulking figure. “You got a pass?”

You blinked your eyes up at the bouncer, standing guard. He was imposing, his large, hulking arms crossed over his chest. “Uh,” you licked your dry lips, vaguely realizing a little too late that you’re inappropriately dressed for this event – pearl necklace, diamond earrings, and a silk below-the-knee champagne coloured dress. “N-No, I don’t.”

“Then I’m sorry, Miss, you can’t enter. This is an invite-only party.”

You’re already fiddling with your purse. “How much?” you raised your brows, daring the bouncer to continue smirking when he noticed the seriousness on your face. “Name me your price.” He was quick to mention the numbers, and without sparing him another glance, you shoved a wad of cash – with extra – to his tattooed hands.

The bouncer’s smirk grew wider, satisfied as he pockets the bills. “Welcome to Ecstasy. Enjoy your stay. If you don’t have a mask yet, someone at the counter will give you one. At the right price.”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed past him and through the doors. The music grew louder as you neared, its relentless beat matching the pounding of your heart. You squared your shoulders, prepared to face whatever lay behind the doors of this unsettling, hidden nightclub. What the hell was Rintaro doing here?

The deeper you entered the club, the louder the music got. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and something else you couldn’t quite place. The interior was a chaotic blend of darkness and vibrant neon lights, flashing in sync with the pounding bass of the music – loud enough to give you a headache. The colors danced erratically, casting shifting shadows across the grinding bodies across the room.

Everywhere you looked, people were hidden behind masks, their identities obscured in a surreal modern-era masquerade.

The masks ranged from simple to elaborate, animal-themed, Venetian, some grotesque. Yours was a simple bunny-mask, its ears protruding at the sides and the nose wide enough to cover a fraction of your eyes. You understood now why Rintaro chose to be here – the anonymity gave the revelers a sense of freedom, their movements uninhibited and wild. Everyone danced with abandon, bodies pressed close together as they moved as one with the beat. In the corners, couples were locked in passionate embraces, their hands trailing in places it shouldn’t be – completely oblivious to the world around them.

Discomfort washed over you as you navigated through the crowd.

The noise was overwhelming, a constant assault on your senses. Your formal attire, elegant and out of place, drew curious and sometimes hungry stares from the masked partygoers. Your feeble attempt in donning the bunny mask did little to hide your unease.

You pushed through the crowd, determined to find Rintaro.

Men in masks turned to watch you, their gazes lingering too long for comfort. You quickened your pace, ignoring the murmurs and the eyes that followed your every move. The flashing lights made it hard to see clearly, but you couldn’t back out now. You’d already reached this far. There was no way you were going to leave this hellish place without your husband in tow.

Finally, you spotted a tuft of dark, unruly hair.

Rintaro sat slumped at the bar, nursing a drink as his head bobbed in time to the rhythm of the music. He looked weary and lost, a stark contrast to the frenzy around him. Relief washed over you as you made your way beside him, the chaotic energy of the club seemingly fading in the background. You reached out to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in hopes to draw him out of his stupor and back to you.

When he finally turned to you, you were met with his familiar hazel eyes – ones that bordered more on green than brown. He looked exhausted; dark circles visible even behind his wolf-shaped mask, the whiskers nearly comical as it draped on the sides. You grinned at him, relieved to have found him safe and sound. Throwing your arms around him – or more like attempted to – you found yourself gently shoved back, your lower back connecting with the stool behind you.

“Don’t touch me,” he sneers, his words slurred. “My wife won’t like it if she sees you.”

You frowned at him, rubbing at the sore spot at your back. “Don’t be stupid. We need to go home. Now.”

Rintaro throws his head back in laughter, gesturing to the bartender for another refill. Once his glass was full again, he took slow, deliberate sips – his face impassive and his eyes cold. “The night is too young. Why would I want to leave?” he murmurs more to himself than you, his gaze narrowing at your hunched figure beside him. He stares, hard, making you squirm beneath the mask. But Rintaro simply sniffs, pointing his drink in your direction. “You look awfully familiar.”

“That’s because I’m your wife. Now let’s go.”

“My wife, huh? Now I know you’re lying,” he shakes his head to himself, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he downs his drink in one go. “My wife would never look for me, and she’d never come to a place like this. She’s a little too good for everybody. A little too great for the likes of us. Even for someone like me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but I recently just found out that I’m–” he closes the distance between you, close enough that his cologne and the stench of alcohol overwhelms you. Then, he cups his palm around his mouth as if to say a secret, his mouth dangerously close to your ear as his voice drops. “–Adopted. Or kidnapped, if we’re going to be precise. Fucked up, right? But you want to know what’s even more fucked up? It’s that I genuinely thought I was this great, praise-worthy Prince who deserved no one better but my wife. And I–” his chuckles grew louder, the humour in them absent, “–I ruined it. Ruined her life. Because she doesn’t even know that she married some stupid, lowborn gardener’s son.”

You frowned at his words. Crossing your arms against your chest, you spun on your stool and faced him directly, snatching the glass from his hand before he could ask for another refill. This time around, Rintaro doesn’t protest. Just slumps further against the bar’s counter.

“Don’t talk like that. I’m sure she doesn’t think of you any differently.”

“She already does. She can barely stand to be in the same room as me,” he sighs, his head buried in his arms before him. Sleepily, and drunk out of his mind, he gazes up at you under his lashes – the sadness deep and prominent within his eyes. “She could’ve married someone else if I never came into her world, you know? She could’ve married a Lord, or-or a Duke. Hell, she could have been a Princess from another Kingdom. She deserved all that and more. Instead she’s stuck with me and I–” his breaths stuttered, “–I’m no one.”

That was it. You’d had enough of his pity party. Did he really come all the way here just to feel bad about himself? Sliding the glass towards the bartender’s way, you grabbed Rintaro by the arm, heaving at his nearly dead weight. “Rin. Please. Let’s go home.”

“I have no home,” he whines, and it’s only now you notice the tears glistening in his eyes. “I don’t have a wife, I lost my girlfriend who’s pregnant with my child, and I – where would I go? There’s no place for me here.”

“You could go with me.”

“You’re not my wife. I don’t want to go anywhere without her.”

“Rintaro, I am your wife,” you repeat, shoving your left hand right in front of his face. He’s immediately entranced by the sight, and leans into the curve of your palm. “We wear the same rings, see? It’s me.”

The sigh he lets out is dreamy. “Yeah, I’m not sober enough for this. Now I’m seeing her too.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration, you lead him back to the bar, and help him sit down without falling on his bottom. “Okay, how about this? I get you a few more drinks, and then I’ll take you back to your wife, alright? I heard the Princess was looking for you.”

Rintaro’s sniffles grow louder as he avoids your gaze. “Why would she? She’s happier now that she’s with Kiyoomi. He’s the better man, anyway, better than me in all aspects.”

The memory of Kiyoomi’s lips flashed through your mind. Faintly, you wondered if this was considered hurting Kiyoomi’s feelings – running after your husband, and tending to him when he was not in his right mind. Just the thought of Kiyoomi patiently waiting for you back at Belleview Manor broke your heart. Or maybe he paced back and forth, anxiously opening his phone every minute to check if you’d updated again – you hadn’t.

But you would return, that you knew. The past few days with him – no, everything had made your decision clear. Regardless of whatever happened next… if Rintaro would be taken away by the police, or if the Queen disposed of him first, you’d already made your mind.

You were going to choose Kiyoomi.

But tonight… tonight, Rintaro needed you. Cupping his face in your hands, you levelled his gaze with yours, putting on your warmest smile – just like how you always did whenever Rintaro ran to you, worried and burdened with his day’s work. Even if he couldn’t truly recognize you, at least your touch would – hopefully – be familiar enough. “She’s worried for you, and she sent me here to take you home. She said she wants to talk.”

“She still wants to talk to me?”

Your heart ached. You’d never heard Rintaro sound this… helpless before, and at the same time hopeful. “Of course, Rin. Always.”

“Fine,” he relents, “but you’re paying for my drinks.”

You discreetly signal to the bartender, sliding over a generous amount of cash to cover all the drinks he’d ‘ordered.’ Thankfully, he understands your silent plea, nodding and begins to serve him water instead. Rintaro, too lost in his own world, didn’t seem to notice the change as he continued to down glass after glass.

Once he had reached his limit, you gently took his arm, guiding him away from the bar and through the club. To say the journey back to your car was arduous was an understatement. Rintaro kept leaning heavily on you, his weight almost too much for you to bear. His stumbling steps made your own balance precarious, especially in your delicate kitten heels. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep you both upright as you navigated the crowded, uneven terrain outside the club.

The rocky pavement outside made the task a lot more challenging than it should be. Each step was a battle, your husband’s larger frame swaying with each faltering step. You glanced around, spotting one of his cars parked far away, but you ignored it and focused on bringing him to yours instead. You’d just have to take care of the traces he left later.

With great effort – and a lot of sweat – you finally managed to get him to your car. You opened the back door, easing him inside. Rintaro whined and resisted, but you persisted, swatting his hands away to get him settled.

You managed to manoeuvre him into the backseat, checking twice to ensure he was comfortable enough before closing the door. Before you could, Rintaro suddenly reached out to you, his fingers tugging at your sleeves. “Wait,” he pleads, his eyes huge and vulnerable.

“What?”

“Need to... need to look good,” he rambled on, stretching his long legs at the backseat and tugging at his own shirt. The material is already wrinkled beyond belief, the top buttons undone. He keeps fidgeting with it, grabbing your hands to help him fix it. Stunned, your hands hover awkwardly over his chest – unsure if buttoning it up for him would be enough to satisfy him. “Do I look good? Don’t wanna – don’t wanna look drunk. She’ll get mad. Don’t want my wife seeing me like this.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words. Sighing, you reached over and closed the top buttons, patting his chest down as if to say ‘there you go.’ “You look fine. Stop grumbling.”

Convinced enough, Rintaro stops fidgeting. You were about to close the car door once more when he suddenly pulled you next to him. You squealed, barely catching your balance as you fell beside him. In one, swift movement, Rintaro had laid down and rested his head on your lap, his long legs awkwardly curled beneath him. There, he sighs, his large hands fisting your dress as you sit still – unable to move.

“Just a few more hours, please? I want to sleep.”

You agree, finding it difficult to say no when Rintaro was so… clingy like this. It wasn’t like you could return to the Palace, anyway. Rintaro would most likely be a target of the Police, and the entire government now that everyone knows he was a fraud. He didn’t need to go back to that. You’d rather keep him here – in your lap, safe and sleepy and warm. Unable to help it, you run your hands through his hair, carding your fingers through the strands and raking your nails against his scalp. It causes him to purr like a cat, the sound entertaining before he buries himself closer to your stomach.

“...Nice.”

“What?”

“Said you smell nice. Smell like my wife.”

The morning sunlight filtered through the car windows, its warmth gently jostling you awake. You blinked blearily, momentarily disoriented as you realized you’d fallen asleep. As you tried to move, you noticed the weight on your lap.

Rintaro was asleep there, his face relaxed and peaceful. The harsh lines of stress and pain that usually marked his features were smoothed away as he slumbers, making him appear younger, almost innocent.

You stared at him for a little longer, captivated by the rare serenity in his expression. Your fingers began to move on their own accord, gently caressing his cheek. His skin was warm under your touch, and you marvelled at how different he looked now. In sleep, he seemed free from the burdens that weighed so heavily on him during his waking hours. But now? Your heart softened as you traced the line of his jaw, wishing you could freeze this moment in time – preserve this fleeting glimpse of the man you had once fallen madly in love with.

You hesitated in waking him up, choosing instead to let him rest a little longer.

Carefully, you reached for your purse, digging through it to find your phone. The screen lit up with several missed calls and a flurry of texts from your parents, their messages frantic and pleading for you to answer and tell them where you were. Amongst the many notifications, messages from Kiyoomi caught your eye. His last message read, “please… please tell me you’re safe.”

Your heart ached at his worry, but another message drew your attention. It was from Kuroo, his message short yet ominous: “Princess, I didn’t write this, but I think you should take a look.”

With shaky hands, you clicked on the link. As the article loaded, your anxiety surged – a cold dread settling in the pit of your stomach. You glanced down at Rintaro, still peacefully asleep, oblivious to the turmoil that awaited you both.

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥 𝐄𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐤𝐢: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

In a dramatic turn of events that has left the kingdom of Inarizaki reeling, the Queen has been seized by government officials following the revelation of her involvement in heinous crimes. The charges against Her Majesty are severe and include conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and fraud. This unprecedented upheaval marks a dark chapter in Inarizaki's royal history. The Queen stands accused of orchestrating the murder of her own husband, the late King, in a desperate bid to retain power. This shocking revelation came to light after a thorough investigation uncovered irrefutable evidence of her culpability. Additionally, it has been revealed that the Queen kidnapped an innocent baby, presenting him as the Crown Prince to solidify her control over the throne. This child, now known as Suna Rintaro, has been living under the false pretense of royal blood. The official charges against the Queen include: Conspiracy to Commit Murder, Kidnapping, Fraud, and High Treason. Government officials have acted swiftly, seizing Her Majesty and beginning the legal proceedings that will determine her fate. The palace is in turmoil as the full extent of her crimes comes to light. As the kingdom grapples with the Queen's treachery, another scandal has emerged, further destabilizing the royal family. Hours after former Princess Iris publicly revealed her true lineage, incriminating photos of Princess Suna, wife of Suna Rintaro, have surfaced. These photos, taken within the privacy of Belleview Manor, show Prince Kiyoomi and the Crown Prince's wife in a compromising and passionate embrace, confirming longstanding rumors of a cross-marriage affair. The scandal does not end there. Additional evidence has surfaced showing Princess Suna meeting with Kuroo Tetsuro, the notorious journalist responsible for exposing Iris and Rintaro’s affair. In these meetings, Princess Suna is seen paying Kuroo substantial sums of money, effectively funding his comfortable life abroad. It is now evident that Princess Suna orchestrated the recent articles that have shaken the kingdom, making her a clear threat and an enemy of the Crown. The public and government officials are now united in their stance: Princess Suna and Suna Rintaro must be stripped of their titles and exiled from Inarizaki. Their actions have sown discord and threatened the stability of the kingdom, and such betrayal cannot be tolerated. As Inarizaki faces this turbulent time, the hope for a restored and honest royal lineage is strong. The kingdom looks to the future, determined to heal and rebuild in the wake of these revelations. This story is still developing, and we will continue to provide updates as more information becomes available.

Panic surged through you as the article’s revelation settled in.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, each one more frantic than the last. You felt your chest tighten,, your heart pounding so hard as if it would burst. Desperation clawed at you, and you knew you had to get out of the car.

As gently as you could, you pushed Rintaro’s head off your lap, careful not to disrupt his sleep. He stirred slightly, but otherwise remained unconscious. You opened the door and stumbled out onto the pavement, your legs barely supporting you as you fell to your knees. The cold, hard ground bit into your skin, but the sensation was distant – the pain faint compared to the panic that was now beginning to consume you.

Your breaths were coming in ragged, uneven bursts now, your vision blurring with tears.

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself as the world spun around you. You knew, without a doubt, that your own Kingdom had already turned against you.

With trembling fingers, you fumbled for your phone. You needed to hear his voice – the one person who could ground you, who could make you feel safe in the midst of all this mess. You found his contact and dialled, holding the phone to your ear with a grip so tight your knuckles turned white. Finally, the call connected, and you breathed out, letting the faint sound of Kiyoomi fumbling in the background like a lifeline.

“Kiyoomi?”

“Thank God you picked up. You weren’t answering any of my calls.”

You closed your eyes, focusing on each word, each comforting tone as you anchored yourself in the present. The world around you began to slow, your breathing gradually evening out. You took a deep, shaky breath, drawing strength from Kiyoomi’s presence, even if it was just through the phone.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Kiyoomi. What’s going on?”

Kiyoomi sighed from the other line. “It’s just as the news said. The Queen is being held by the government to answer for her crimes and you... you’re no longer allowed to return to the Palace. You’ve been deposed.”

“But that’s – that can’t happen. There should be a procedure, a legal procedure before they can strip me off my title!”

“I know, but with everything going on in the country right now, the officials have all decided to skip the formalities and proceed with making any unjust royal family member out of the Palace as soon as possible. You included,” more shuffling rings through the phone, and you hear a car door slamming shut. “But don’t worry, I’m heading out of the Palace right now. Tell me where you are. I’ll come find you.”

Nodding even if Kiyoomi couldn’t see it, you move to send him your location when your phone was suddenly ripped out from your hand. You watched, mouth agape, as Rintaro throws it to the ground and crushes it with the weight of his foot. You scrambled to stand up, fire raging in your veins as you looked at him – Rintaro was now awake, his hair still messed up from sleep, but his eyes were big and bright, like he’d been riding on a high.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” Rintaro glared at you, all the previous softness disappearing from his face. “Are you out of your mind? The news said we’re exiled. And you’re just giving our location to Kiyoomi like that?”

“That’s Kiyoomi! I trust him!”

“He’s a Prince, a member of the Royal Family – the same family you’re no longer a part of. I don’t care if you think you can trust him, there’s nothing he can do for you.”

“Oh, but you can do something about it?”

Rin flinched like he’d been slapped. Still, he kept his composure, his hands planted on his hips as he sighed and looked around you. You were nearly in the middle of nowhere – in the outskirts of the city, far from the inquisitive gaze of the Palace. It was almost hard to believe how so much had happened in such a short span of time, but Kiyoomi was right. Iris wouldn’t let it end there. If she was going to fall, she was going to take everyone down with her.

“I can’t help you, but you heard what they said. I’m exiled – I’m leaving this damned country.”

Your husband slammed the car door shut, and began to walk towards his car. “Rin,” you called out to him, taking two steps at a time to match his pace. “Rin, would you please just stop? Let’s talk!”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

You stopped in your tracks, surprised when he’d turned your away. Rintaro’s face was flushed red, the vein on his neck prominent. “Why are you so angry? Oh, is it because your plans have been ruined and you can’t become King anymore, is that it? Because Iris is gone now, and you can’t have her?”

“Seriously? After all this time, you still can’t get over that?”

The laugh you let out is incredulous. “How can I? You kicked me out of our room a few days ago because you said you wanted to take care of her!”

Rintaro’s face hardens. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, thank you so much for telling me, because that totally changes everything,” you throw your hands up in the air, stomping to where he stood just to sneer at his face. “You really expect me to believe you stopped caring about her? The moment your girlfriend was kicked out of the Palace, what did you do? Oh, right. You went to some dingy, ‘exclusive’ anonymous nightclub and got drunk out of your mind. I think its crystal clear you needed a distraction from the pain of losing her.”

Rintaro scoffed, baring his teeth as he takes on your challenge and comes closer, your noses brushing. “What pain? I couldn’t care less that she’s gone. She never loved me anyway.”

“Then why drink yourself half to death last night? You could’ve been in real danger if I didn’t come looking for you.”

“You shouldn’t have, then.”

“A thank you would suffice.”

Rintaro’s face hardens. He takes more steps, forcing you to walk backwards until you were back to where you started – your back hitting the edge of your car. He looms over you, his eyes shining with something you couldn’t decipher. “Why did you look for me, huh? My mistress is gone. She’s out of your hair, and you could’ve had everything you wanted. Why else bother looking for me when all I did was hurt you?”

He practically forces the confession out of you. “Because I was worried about you!”

In an instant, Rintaro’s heat disappears. He flings himself backward like you’d burned him, frowning as he stares you incredulously. Then, he lets out a laugh that sounded more like a pained choke. “You are many things, but I never thought you could be a liar.”

“Liar? What are you talking about?”

He meets your gaze, his eyes cold and daring. “You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do!”

“No, you don’t! You know the truth, Y/N. I’m not a Prince – never have been, and never will be. You couldn’t possibly care for a fraud. You know it, too. I’m a nobody, and you were always better than me.”

Rintaro’s words hung in the air, each one landing with a weight that nearly suffocated you. Was that how he thought of you the whole time? That you’d... hated him? Thought of him differently because he wasn’t the King’s son? The very notion left you appalled. The ground beneath you felt like it shifted, your heart clenching painfully at the broken expression he wore. Shame, guilt – it all swam in the dark pools of his eyes, mingling with sorrow as you stared at him.

How could he think that, after everything?

His voice carried defeat, almost as if he wanted you to hate him, as if he believed it would make things easier.

The realization itself twisted something deep inside you. You didn’t hate him – not even close. Maybe you hated what he did, the lies that he’d kept and the facade he’d put on, pretending that he’d loved you when he didn’t. But him not being the King’s son? What did that change? Stood before you was still Rintaro, not Suna, the man you’d adored and cursed from the moon and the back. The thought that he’d been carrying this belief, suffering under it, cut you more deeply than any betrayal. Somehow, this hurt more than finding out he had another.

The fact that this whole time, Rintaro truly believed you looked down on him for not being a Prince. How could he have been so wrong?

The breath was knocked out of you, your shoulders deflating as every muscle in your body softened. “You may not be a Prince, but you’re still my husband. I still care.”

You watched the change in his expression as the words left your lips.

His eyes widened in shock, the disbelief evident against the relief that slowly unfurled across his face. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest, his breath catching in his throat. But beneath that relief, confusion lingered, the doubts overshadowing your confession. It was as if he was trying to convince himself that you were wrong, that you should hate him, that your kindness was a mistake.

You could see it all – how Rintaro desperately wanted to believe you, yet he still clung to the pain of his insecurities like it was all he knew.

“If you care so much,” his voice broke as he spoke, “Then why did you kiss Kiyoomi?”

His question struck you like a blow to the chest. The words echoed in your mind, rendering you frozen in place. How could you answer that? How could you justify what you’d done? You could say you didn’t mean it, that you’d regretted it, but that would be a lie. You’d wanted to kiss Kiyoomi. It was a long overdue kiss, and until now, you still wanted to run back into his arms and have him tell you everything would be okay.

And that must show in your face – your blatant infatuation with the Second Prince. Rintaro’s face was a mixture of hurt and confusion as his gaze landed on your lips, probably picturing the way you’d kissed someone else. It made you feel small, like a child caught with their hand deep in a cookie jar. Your mind race, searching for an explanation, a way to make him understand, but all you could feel was the crushing sense of betrayal you’d inflicted on him – on both of you.

The truth was too messy, one that you couldn’t explain yourself. You cared for Rintaro, would do anything to protect him and save him from the mess he’d been tangled in. But you also loved Kiyoomi, loved tangling your hands in his curls, and laying your head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. You would fight a far for your husband, but when that war was over?

You would run straight home to Kiyoomi.

Still, you wanted to reach out. To say something, anything, that would take away the pain in his eyes, but the words were lodged deep in your throat. All you could do was stare at him, realizing too late you had hurt him in a way that might never fully feal.

“So you love him,” he concluded, and when you didn’t refuse, Rintaro nodded to himself – letting the words sink in. One of his hands were planted on his hips, the other fisted on his lip with his brows furrowed. “Was it... was it after I kicked you off to Belleview Manor? Or has it... have you liked him for longer than that?”

Since Itachiyama, you wanted to say, almost apologetically, since the day you kept choosing her over me.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a distant rumble interrupted the silence, growing louder and more distinct with each passing second. You barely had time to process it before Rintaro moved, his hand suddenly gripping your arm with a firm urgency.

Rintaro pulled you down, hiding you both behind the car. You followed his lead, heart pounding in your chest as you pressed your face against his back, the creases of his shirt bundled in your palms. Crouched low, the cold pavement pressing against your knees, you watched as he cautiously peeked over the car’s hood, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The sound of engines grew louder, more ominous – like the sound of your end nearing. You dared to peek from above Rintaro’s shoulder until you could make out the distinct patterns of royal emblems on some of the vehicles, followed closely by the flashing lights of police cars.

Fear gripped at you. You could feel your heart pulsing all the way up to your tongue, your breaths coming faster as you glanced at your husband. Rintaro’s expression mirrored your panic, eyes wide and intense.

The vehicles were closing in, fast and steady, like predators hunting their prey. You both knew that your time was running out, that you were no longer Prince and Princess. Exiled. Dethroned. Hunted like the lowly criminals you both were.

Rintaro wasted no time. He yanked you up as gently as he could by your wrist, guiding you into the passenger’s seat before he slammed the door close, and hopped onto the driver’s side. His movements are frantic as he started up the car, letting the engine hum fill the vehicle. “Wear your seatbelt.”

“But Rin, you were just drunk last night–”

The engine roared to life as Rintaro slammed his foot onto the gas pedal. “I’m fine now, and I drive faster than you. You know that. Wear your seatbelt.”

The car lurched forward, tires screeching against the pavement. You felt your body press back into the seat as your heart pounded in time with the racing vehicle. The world outside blurred into a streak of colours as you shot down the road, the cool morning air rushing in through the partially open windows.

You could hear the shriek of sirens behind you, the vehicles in pursuit closing in fast.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, sharp and intoxicating, as your mind raced to keep up with the unfolding chaos. This was real. This was happening. You were no longer just royals entangled in a web of lies and deceit – you were fugitives now, running from a government that once hailed you as symbols of hope and power.

Rintaro’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he weaved through the narrow streets with a precision born of desperation. Each sharp turn sent her stomach lurching, the tires skidding dangerously close to the edges of the road. You cried out his name, and Rintaro hissed as he swerved back to safety. You could see the cityscape flashing by in jagged, disorienting bursts – the familiar landmarks rendered alien the further you flew away.

The vehicles behind you were relentless, engines howling as they sped after you with unyielding force. The sirens were deafening, mocking.

You glanced over at Rintaro, seeing the intense focus etched into his features, the slight tremor in his jaw as he pushed the car harder, faster, willing it to escape the grip of your pursuers.

The realization hit you like a physical blow – you were criminals now. Your life of luxury, of duty, and privilege, it was all over. Everything you had known, everything you had believed in, was crumbling away behind you, left in the dust of your panicked escape. There was no going back now, no return to the life you once had. You would have to leave everything behind – the Palace, the titles, your parents, Kiyoomi.

The car swerved violently as Rintaro took a sharp corner, the tires screeching as you fought for traction. The chase had spilled deeper into the outskirts of the city, where the streets were narrower, the buildings older and more decrepit. The vibrant pulse of the city was fading, giving way to a desolate stretch of road that seemed to go on forever, before it disappeared into the horizon like a thin thread of hope.

Beside you, Rintaro’s face was set in grim desperation, his eyes locked on the road ahead as the car surged forward, fuelled by the desperate need to escape. You could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken understanding between you that this was your only chance.

And with that, you accepted your fate.

This was the path you had chosen – no, the path that been forced upon you. The chase continued, the world outside becoming a blur of speed and danger. You braced yourself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

“They’re getting close,” Rintaro said through gritted teeth. One glance at the rear view mirror confirmed your worst fears; they were closing in on you, and that meant the end was nearing. You knew without a doubt that as soon as the government laid their hands on you, everything was over. Rintaro would be exiled, or worse, executed for infiltrating the sacred walls of the Palace – even if it hadn’t been his fault. And you would lose everything, everyone, that you ever cared about. You couldn’t let that happen. “Fuck! I need something to get them off my tail!”

You moved without thinking.

Reaching for the gun secretly stashed in the glove compartment, you quickly rolled the windows down, the upper half of your body carefully sliding out as you unlatched the seatbelt. “Hey!” Rintaro shouted, “What are you doing? Get back! It’s not safe!”

“I’m still the General’s daughter. They won’t shoot,” eyes narrowed, you aimed at the nearest police car who’d been hot on your heels. There was only a few inches left before they could bump into you. “But I will.”

There was no time for hesitation, no room for doubt.

The rush of the wind whipped through the car, pulling at your skin and stinging your eyes. Your finger hovered over the trigger, the world narrowing down to the police car’s tire, spinning so fast it seemed almost like a blur.

You fired.

The crack of the gunshot echoed in your years, the sound so loud it was deafening. You watched as the bullet hit its mark, the tire exploding in a burst of rubber and metal. The police car veered wildly, the driver losing control as the vehicle swerved violently across the road. Then, with a sickening lurch, it tumbled over, metal screeching against asphalt as it rolled, flipping end over end before it crashed into the guardrail. The screech of tires and the crash of metal filled the air as the cars behind it desperately slammed on their brakes, unable to avoid the wreckage. One by one, they collided, a chaotic pileup of twisted metal and broken glass until the entire road was blocked.

You slid back into your seat, your breathing ragged, your chest painfully tight.

Your hands were still shaking, the gun trembling in your grasp. Cold sweat dotted your skin, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you stared at wreckage left behind you. The pursuing cars had been held back, unable to continue the chase.

The road was clear.

Rintaro pressed down harder on the gas, sending the car forward with renewed speed. The roar of the engine filled the car, its sound fierce and almost primal. You could feel the velocity pulling you back into your seat, your body slamming onto the leather.

As the wreckage disappeared from view, the chaotic noise behind you fading into the distance, you let out a shaky breath. You glanced down at the gun in your hands, the metal still cool against your skin despite the heat of the moment. It had been necessary, but the reality of what you had done settling heavily. You exhaled, trying to calm the trembling in your hands.

Rintaro eyed you from his seat, his jaw clenched before he glanced back at the road. “Do you know what you just did?” You nodded, tears now brimming at your lash line. “You’ve just officially declared that we’re at war with the country. They’re never going to let us go.”

“I know,” you were crying now – the tears unstoppable as you pressed your palms against your eyes. “I know.”

Rintaro was quiet for a moment. So quiet you wondered if he was still there, and he was. The tension never left his face, and he never once slowed down in his speed. But he was calmer, in some ways, his face set into a determined frown. “We can’t go back. We can’t say goodbye to anyone anymore.”

You couldn’t say goodbye to Kiyoomi.

“Where are we going, Rin?”

“Far,” was all he says, and the road that stretched before you suddenly seemed endless. “Far, far away from here where they can’t hurt you.”

“You mean us.”

“Of course,” he stole a quick glance at you, surprising you when you saw how his face had softened. Almost as if he’d already accepted that the life he’d lived was never his, and he had nothing but the future ahead of himself. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise. But if you... if you tell me to turn back, I will. I’ll find a way to get you back to Kiyoomi–”

“No,” you interjected, and Rintaro’s eyes widened. “I... I’m staying with you.”

Rintaro’s eyes scanned your face, looking for the answers. “Are you absolutely certain? You don’t have to, you know. This country can still forgive you, they can love you still–”

“I’m staying with you.”

“Okay,” he nodded, his face unreadable under the faint morning light. “Okay. It’s you and me.”

The decision to leave wasn’t easy.

It clawed at you, gnawed at the very fabric of your being, but you knew – deep down, in the place where love was both cruel and kind – that you couldn’t stay. You wanted to fight, to clear your name and prove to the world that you were innocent, to stand in front of the kingdom with your head held high. You wanted to see your parents again, feel their arms around you, hear their voices assure you that everything would be okay.

But even as these thoughts plagued your mind, they were outweighed by something stronger, something inescapable.

You thought of him – Kiyoomi, the Prince you ended up falling for. The one who’d stolen your heart, not with grand gestures, but with quiet moments, gentle touches, and promises whispered in the dark. You still remembered the warmth of being in his arms, the way he looked at you with eyes that saw through your soul, the comfort you found in his presence, and the future you’d dared imagined together. You had given him his heart when it felt all was too late, and he had given you his the moment you laid your eyes on his. Each one of you were willing to sacrifice so much for the other – it just never occurred to you that you would sacrifice Kiyoomi now.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than you could have ever imagined. The thought of leaving Kiyoomi behind, of crushing the trust he’d given you, of severing the bond you had formed – was a pain so deep it nearly made you want to ask Rintaro to turn back. At least let me say goodbye. Let me look at him one last time. You wanted to stay with him, to choose him, to finally build the life with Kiyoomi that he’d promised, but you couldn’t. He didn’t even have the littlest idea that that had been your last conversation, the last time you’d hear each other’s voices.

Because there was another man – Rintaro, your husband. The one who, despite everything, still held a huge fraction of your heart.

He was the one who needed you now, and he didn’t have anyone else. You’d seen the despair in his eyes, the loneliness that consumed him, the way his eyes didn’t quite match what he said as it held the silent please for you to not abandon him, to not cast him aside like everyone had. You knew him well enough to understand that if you left, he would disappear – not just from the world, but from life itself.

Rintaro would slip away, fade into the shadows, and you would never find him again. You couldn’t let that happen. You couldn’t lose him like that.

So you chose him.

You chose to run away with him, to leave behind everything you’d known, everyone you’d loved. It was a choice born out of duty, of loyalty, and of the twisted love that still tied you to him. It was the right choice, not that it made it any easier. The ache in your heart would remain and scar you forever, haunted by the knowledge you would never see Kiyoomi again, never hold him, never tell him how much he’d meant to you.

It was a loss you would carry with you for the rest of your life.

But you couldn’t do it any other way, couldn’t have gone a different path and not think of Rintaro still. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you’d left him alone, if you let him slip away into the darkness that beckoned him. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, even if it meant leaving behind the one person who’d taught you to love again. You had to choose Rintaro, even if it came with the price of letting everything else go.

So you did.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and made the choice you knew would tear you apart. You ran away. And as the world blurred around you, as you fled into the unknown, hand-in-hand with your husband, you couldn’t stop thinking of the Prince you’d left behind – the man who would always hold your heart in his hands, even if you could never return to him.

“You and me, Rin.”

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou x reader #rintaro suna x reader #kiyoomi x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x you #kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #cw: incest #cw: gun #suna rintarou x fem! reader #suna rintaro angst #suna x reader angst

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von2dutch · 4 months

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Sugar baby | Jey Uso

Chapter three

Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.

Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 2.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY

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Lastly, Enjoy.

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As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon inside Jey’s hotel room , a chorus of birds greeted the dawn with a symphony of chirps and songs. The melodic sound filled the air, announcing the arrival of a fresh day full of possibilities.

The calm and tranquil feeling in the bedroom is one of comfort and safety, as if the world is at peace. With Dakota by his side of course.

Joshua slowly opened his eyes to a warm and radiant morning light filtering through the window.

As Jey looked over at Dakota, he saw her sleeping peacefully beside him. He couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in his heart as he watched her snuggled up against his chest, her arms wrapped around him tightly. The moment felt serene, and he took a deep breath, savoring it. He couldn't help but admire Dakota's beauty in that moment, as the soft glow of the moon illuminated her features and added an ethereal quality to the scene. It was a simple yet beautiful moment that he would always cherish.

He gently pulled her close with his arm, and planting soft kisses all over her face and neck, waking her up slowly but lovingly.

Jey had felt horrible about how he treated Dakota especially what he said to her a couple weeks ago when discussing being with her more than just a client.

He initially took in what his brother was saying and realized he loved Dakota not just what she did for him sexually but what she did for him mentally and physically because as much as he was there for her in those needs she was also there in those needs of his. With him being on the road 25/7 it sometimes gets lonely and sad but she always made sure to brighten his day even when she didn’t know she did.

His affection for her was not just a fleeting infatuation. It was a profound feeling that surpassed any previous experience he had ever had. This love penetrated through the depths of his heart and soul, and he had never felt anything like it before. He was completely consumed by her, and she had become the center of his whole universe. In his life, she was the beacon of hope that illuminated his path through even the darkest of times.

She's got him wrapped around her little finger, and he'd do anything to see her smile. He just needed to show her more than tell her and he was going staring today.

“Mmm Josh stop.” Dakota groaned moving her face away to stop the kisses he repeatedly left on her cheeks.

Chuckling he kissed her exposed neck annoying her even more “Ko baby get up I’m bored and I miss you.”

Opening her eyes staring back at his brown precious big eyes she could almlsh Melt into them but at moment all she felt was her love fading away from him because like he said she was just a client. “Josh don’t think cause we had sex last night that every is all dandy and cool cause it’s not.”

Joshua, sighed flustered, sat up abruptly. "Ko, I apologize. What more do you want me to say?" he asked, his tone reflecting a hint of desperation.

Getting out of his grasp she folded her arms looking at him like he was stupid “It’s not about what else I want you to say, I want you to acknowledge what you said.”

“Matter fact I’m done explaining myself cause remember I’m just your client it isn’t nothing else to it so it don’t matter I’m leaving.” Dakota attempted to get out of the bed to grab her clothes and leave but Joshua grabbed her pinning her arms down on the bed hovering over her as his sliver chain dangled in her face he stared in her eyes deeply.

“Dakota, you're more than just a client...I can't be away from you, can't go without seeing your radiant face or hearing your angelic voice. I want to be around you, soak up life with you, and just be beside you. Losing you would kill me. I love you with all of my heart.I don't want to miss a minute without you by my side. I love you Ko.”

“I want you and I’ll prove it by showing you then just telling you.”

That was it. Those words was something she thought she’d never hear but she did. All Dakota could do was stare back into his eyes taking in everything he had just told her. He was in love with her but she was also hesitant to believe maybe he was right he did need to show her.

“Joshua you don’t mean that you’re just telling me that because you want me to get over what you said.” Dakota said being stubborn no matter how much it melted her heart to hear him say those words she just couldn’t believe it.

Laughing to himself softly he knew she would be stubborn and he could handle it he just had to show her how much he meant it “Ko I mean that shit and if it takes me a million hours, years, or months to show you I will. I apologize for I what said I love you and I’ll show you.”

As he hovers above her, his gaze never wavers.He stares down at her with such intensity and passion, as if he owns her.He wants her back in his home, alone, just the two of them for a whole month.

He wants nothing but her all to himself, without any interference or distractions.

“That’s why I want to ask you to come back home with me while I’m off for the whole month just me and you…that’s if you want to mama.” He asked with pleading eyes.

Dakota pondered for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts and doubts. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he was sincere in his words. Could this be his opportunity to prove it? She took a deep breath and looked up at him, searching for any sign of insincerity. When she saw only a warm smile on his face, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. With a smile of her own, she answered, "Yes, I'll go with you."

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Instagram Story • Dakota Valentine

“It’s so beautiful here.” Dakota covered her eyes from the hard sunlight while she admired the beautiful landscape of Pensacola, Florida. The beautiful trees and water was something that amazed her how beautifully it was.

After a long flight from Atlanta in Jey’s private Jet alone just them two the more they spent alone the more she became to believe he actually meant what he said.

“Here ko.” Jey handed Dakota the keys to his home while he grabbed her luggage from the car his driver sat in. “Go unlock the door and chill I got everything and you better be laying down Frl ko.” He glared at her knowing how much she didn’t listen.

Rolling her eyes she caught the keys walking towards the door she threw the middle finger up at him “You already did.” He shot back smartly.

As she turned the doorknob and stepped inside, she found herself mesmerized by the sheer beauty of his home. Every time he had flown her out to his place when he was off, she was left in awe at the stunning interiors and the breathtaking exteriors. It was as if the first time she had visited his home was replayed in her mind every time she visited.

Dakota walked towards the refrigerator grabbing a drink of water before she plopped down on his white comforting couch she watched as the sunset rose in more beautifully the water waving softly the trees flowing through the wind she was so caught up into the sight that she didn’t hear Josh calling her name.

“Mama you good?”Jey asked sitting next to Dakota on the couch, gently and lovingly takes her feet into his hands.He removes her blue Dior slides and begins to gently rub and massage her feet, caressing every inch of her soft, smooth skin.

He places a gentle kiss on her foot, sending tingles through her body, before rubbing the other foot. She leans back into his hands and sighs contently as he spoils her with this attention and affection.

With a gentle nod of her head, she replied, "Yes, it's just that this place is so breathtakingly beautiful. It's been quite some time since I last visited, and I almost forgot how much I missed it."

“I know I changed some things around here too, remember that painting you wanted back in September when I took you too that art show? I got it hung up right there for you Ko.” He pointed towards the white painted wall where the panting hung.

“Aww thank you baby.” She blushed cheesing happily resting her head and back against the couch.

The two of them sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, Jey spoke up, his voice soft and gentle, breaking the comfortable stillness that had enveloped them. As he looked into Dakota's eyes, he spoke with a sincerity that could not be denied, “Dakota I meant what I said earlier.”

Sighing she looked back at him “I know but I want you to show me Joshua not tell me.”

“And I will trust me.”

Park West Beach

“Joshua you bet not have me at no damn water park! For me dressing up when I should be sleeping some damn where.” Dakota stressed as he had his hands covering her eyes leading her towards the beach she felt sand at her foot.

“Dakota shut up and be patient.”

“You shut up! You better not throw me in the water cause I feel sand at my feet and we are at the beach sir.”

Huffing Joshua smiled finally being at the location he desired for her he spoke “okay ima count to three and then I’ll uncover your eyes aight?”

“Yes.” Dakota answered softly geeked with anticipation and eager.

“1,2,3.” Removing his hand from her eyes he stood back watching as she took in what was in front of her.

Dakota's face lit up with a wide smile as she gazed at the mesmerizing sight in front of her. She could hardly believe that he had gone to so much trouble just for her. The ambiance was absolutely perfect, with flickering candles casting a warm, inviting glow all around them. Her favorite foods were carefully laid out on the table, tantalizing her senses with their mouth-watering aromas. The comfortable chairs beckoned to her, inviting her to sit down and relax. And all around them, fragrant roses bloomed, their delicate petals bathed in the soft light of the moon, as they sat beside the tranquil waters.

“J-Joshua you did all this?” She looked back at him with tears filling her eyes that she so desperately wanted to held back.

Smiling he embraced her into a hug leaving a few kisses on her face “Yeah I had Jimmy and trin help me, you like it?” He asked nervously, he was worried that she wouldn’t like it considering he wasn’t much a romantic partner but he tried and he always with over and beyond for Dakota no matter what.

His love ran deep for her that some would say he was infuriated with her.

“Do I love it? Of course!” She jumped into his arms Jey caught her with one arm wrapping her legs around him he held her tightly then two laughing.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” She gushed once more before he sat her down gently on the circle chair he sat beside her holding her hand.

As she glanced around she couldn’t help but ask what did he do all this for? Was it to apologize? Because if so she wasn’t accepting it from him no matter how beautiful everything was.

“So what is all this for?” She asked knitting her eyebrows together while she looked into his eyes waiting for an answer.

“Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took her hand into his moving closer to Dakota he stared directly into her eyes watching as she became nervously because she was biting her lip which he took notice of a few months back of when she was nervous.

“I know what I said a few weeks ago hurt you Ko and I apologize but not only that but I wanted to confess my love for you Dakota.” Jey left a few kisses on her Hand before taking a deep breath.

Jey's eyes burn with the passionate fire and desire he's had for Dakota for so long. He wants to express his love for her with a burning intensity, wants to claim her as his, and make her his in every way possible. It's not just an infatuation anymore, it's something so much more than that.He's obsessed, addicted, and obsessed with her.

As he watches her, he's hit in the gut with the depth of his feelings.It feels like a burning hot flame that's raging within him and he can't deny or stop. He's consumed by his love for her, intoxicated by her beauty and presence.

“I love you with every breath I take, with every beat of my heart", I couldn’t imagine life with you Ko and no matter how stubborn you are I’ll show you I mean it.” he confesses.

Jey holds her hands. He looks at her with pure adoration and devotion, his feelings so deep and his love so real.

"Dakota Kamire Valentine..." he whispers, taking a moment to take in her whole beauty and being.

He takes in a deep breath and continues. "Will you be my girlfriend? My partner in life? My soulmate?"

He stares deeply into her eyes, waiting for her answer, his heart pounding and aching.

Dakota's eyes widened in surprise as she gazed back at him, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling up inside her. She tried to avoid looking directly at him, scanning the surroundings instead, to control her tears. It was hard to believe that Jey Uso, the Joshua she had grown to know so well, was confessing his feelings for her on a picturesque beach, with just the two of them as witnesses. The beauty of the moment was almost too much to handle.

He wanted her and only her and he was going to show he meant it.

“Y-yes I’ll be your girlfriend Josh.” She stuttered tears leaving her eyes Jey embraced her into a hug before wiping her tears away she kissed him deeply.

“I can’t believe your silly ass just asked me to be your girlfriend.” Dakota chuckled wiping away her tears pushing at his chest playfully while smiling at him shyly.

“Yeah it took me a while but I had too I couldn’t stand you possibly being with someone else other than me Ko, I love you.”

"Josh, why did it take you so long to come clean about this? Was it because you were hoping I'd forgive you for what you said, or was it because you saw me at the club with another man and felt guilty? I need to know the truth, Josh," she said, her arms folded as she fixed him with a curious gaze.

“To be honest… It was because of what my brother said.” He spoke “I had realized that I fell in love with you ko and I was scared to admit it because of past experiences as far as my divorce I had a year ago I didn’t want to go through another heart ache if we never worked out Dakota with me being on the road I feared you’ll fall out of love with me too and find someone else new.”

“I feared that maybe you didn’t want this as much or I wasn’t enough but most importantly my one fears made me push back my feelings for you but no matter how hard I tried I always seemed to fall for you deeper and deeper.”

"You probably think I’m bullshiting, but there is truth to these words..You are the air in my lungs, the light in my eye, the smile on my face. You are everything to me, and without you...I feel lost and like a ghost of who I used to be.”

“Your gaze upon me is simply enchanting, it's like a magnet pulling me closer to you. Your mere presence ignites a flame of passion inside me, and I feel alive in your arms. The warmth of your touch sends shivers down my spine, and it's a sensation I never want to lose. You're the missing piece of my puzzle, the one who completes me in every way. I can't imagine my life without you; you're my every breath, my lifeline, and my everything. I love you more than words can express, Ko.”

Dakota couldn’t even spare a word to him after hearing him confess his love for her. She was stunned she couldn’t believe it that the one thing she wanted was happening before her eyes.

She love him just as much as he loved her.

“Aww Josh you gon make me cry…I hate you.” She said playfully before she wiped her tears falling from her eyes. She was in such awe.

“Don’t cry ma I just want to tell you how much I love you uce and I meant it.” Jey kissed her, her lips so soft and so sweet. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest, the heat of their bodies making them close and intimate. He touches her body slightly, caressing the curves of her hip before letting his hand rest on her ass. He stares at her with desire, wanting to never stop touching her.

Dakota's eyes sparkled with love as she gazed at Joshua. "I love you, Joshua," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "There's nothing else in this world that I want more than this moment with you." As she spoke, she reached up to caress his face, her fingertips gently tracing the contours of his beard. The touch was soft and delicate, but it conveyed a deep sense of affection and intimacy. Joshua felt a surge of emotion as he looked into her eyes, knowing that he was the luckiest person in the world to have her by his side.

While the two sat and watched the waves of the water flow by quietly Josh spoke “I got something for you.” He said before grabbing a gift from the side of him it was red roses and a jar full of poems of letters that he wrote confessions of his love for her.

“Since you said you liked hand written notes, I decided to do this , here’s 365 hand written notes.”

“Jey you didn’t.” She smiled grabbing the jar opening it she read a few notes in complete awe she couldn’t wait to tell Jasmine she was going to flip about this.

She chuckled softly, unable to contain her surprise as she looked at him. 'You really do have a memory like a steel trap,' she murmured, a hint of admiration in her voice. 'I said that months ago, and yet you remember it like it was just yesterday.' Her laughter was infectious as she leaned in to kiss him, grateful for his thoughtful nature.

“But I did and I wanted to it’s always the littlest things that matter and this is one of them baby.”

Jey gazed at Dakota with a look of compassion and sincerity, and spoke in a gentle tone, "I want to take away any pain that you have ever experienced, Ko. I want to help you heal and feel better."

“What if I told you that you did.” She admitted.

“You Frl ko?”

“Yes I’m Frl, when my mom passed you were there for me every step of the way Jey. With you being on the road and busy 24/7 you still made time for me, you still made sure I was okay no matter how many miles away you were from me it always felt like you were there with me. You made me feel whole again through those dark times and I appreciate and will always love you for that.” She stared at him watching him smile brightly hearing those words.

Jey looked at her, an adoration in his eyes as he stares.

"You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

His eyes are soft and tender, yet there is a desire in them.

"I only want you to be happy, Dakota, even if you'd be happier with someone else."

They both were in love and there wasn’t anything getting in the way of it.

Lovers till the end of time .

To be continued…

Hey my baby dolls I hope you all enjoyed this lovely chapter! I told y’all he would do better but next chapter will be not so great that’s all ima say na!

Happy Mother’s Day as well hope you all are having an amazing Sunday with your families.

Till next time. Love you all for tuning in🎀

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alwaysmicado · 5 months

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Sink or swim

12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8

WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret. A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍 Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.

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The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.

You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.

Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.

You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.

No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.

Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–

Shut up.

You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.

The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings.

With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.

As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special.

It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.

Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.

Fucking embarrassing.

How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again?

There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.

“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”

You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.

Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.

It’s an uncomfortable truth.

There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.

And last night, that fear came true.

Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.

For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration.

Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?

You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.

You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.

Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.

You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.

And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.

As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.

You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.

Three years earlier

The sun is down.

Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.

This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.

In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.

You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.

You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–

“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”

A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.

Are you kidding me?

With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.

“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”

“Wha–”

You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”

The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.

“Darlin’, I’m just–”

“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”

When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up.

Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is.

God, what’s wrong with you?

“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”

“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”

“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”

His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.

Okay, world. Hint taken.

“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out.

“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”

“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”

Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.

“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”

The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself.

His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”

You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”

He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.

As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.

The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone.

You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.

“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.

Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.

“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.

“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”

“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.

“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.

You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance.

He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.”

“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”

“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.”

“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”

Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”

“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.

“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.”

“You’re not from here?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”

You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”

“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”

“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”

He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.

“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.

“I told you, watching the sunset.”

“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”

You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”

“Like what?”

“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”

Your bewildered look amuses him.

“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”

Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”

“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”

“Hm?”

“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”

“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”

You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”

“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes.

“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”

“Where did you put all your stuff?”

“My stuff?”

“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.”

You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”

“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.

He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.

He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”

“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.

Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.

“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”

You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”

“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?”

“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”

“Pineapple.”

“Excuse me?”

“Pine. Apple.”

“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”

“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”

“No, just not a complete monster.”

You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.

Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.

“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.”

You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again.

“When did you decide to fly out here?”

“Last night.”

“How? Why?”

“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”

“Hm. I know that feeling.”

You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry.

You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”

“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”

You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”

You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.”

Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

“Are you married?”

“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend.”

“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”

“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”

“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.”

Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.”

“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity.

“A few times, yeah.”

“And the women you were with…they loved you?”

“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be.

“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”

Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.

“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”

“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”

Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.”

“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile.

“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”

“What the hell? When was that?”

“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”

“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

“What makes you say that?”

You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.

“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”

You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.” He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes. “I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.” Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh. “Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling. “I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart. “No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you. You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you. In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock. “I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs. “Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist. “Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute. “Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”

You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”

“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”

“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.

“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.

“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”

“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”

“Did you just call me handsome?”

“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”

Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.

“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.

“I saw her.”

“Who?”

“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”

“What did you do?”

“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”

“And now you’re here.”

“And now I’m here.”

The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.

“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”

“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”

Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”

“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.

“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”

“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”

“Dar–”

“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare.

He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.

“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”

“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.

“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”

Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.

“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."

He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly.

“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now.

“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”

You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back.

“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you.

“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”

Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.

Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.

As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life.

He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.

You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence.

Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.

As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.

You take a deep breath.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”

“Why won’t you go home?”

Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you.

“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.

You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.

You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.

Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own.

His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone.

“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.

“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”

For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart.

Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.

Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.

“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night.

“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness.

Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.

“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”

Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”

“Great,” you say with a small smile.

You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.

“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.

“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”

“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back.

“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.

“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.

He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.

As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”

“Are you–”

“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”

Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.

“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.

As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.

Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.

As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.

Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”

“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?”

“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.

You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.

Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”

You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow.

“Want me to show you around?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.”

“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”

“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him.

“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”

Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”

You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.

“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”

“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack.

As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.

After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.

With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”

“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease.

“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”

You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.

As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.

Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.

Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight.

Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.

With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.

“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”

Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.

But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.

Oh.

The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident.

Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.

You’re in trouble.

His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.

A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.

Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer.

“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.

As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.

The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.

“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”

“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”

“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”

Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.

When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.

With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot.

Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.

Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.

And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.

“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.

“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his.

You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black.

“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great view of your spread thighs and torso.

“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.

You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist.

“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm.

“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”

As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole.

“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.

“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.

Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.

But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”

“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed.

Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him.

“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.

Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.

But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.

This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.

You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips.

Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.

“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”

Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his.

“Please? Tommy?”

Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.

“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”

He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”

“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”

The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.

“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.

Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.

“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.

You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.

Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up.

You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)

You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?

Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy.

just accept it <3

You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him.

But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.

Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning.

“Sweetheart?” “Yeah?” “I, uh, I got something to tell you.” “Shoot.” “I met someone.” Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart. “We’ve only been on two dates, but I–” “Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze. “Yes.” That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced. “Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?” Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over. “Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.” “Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.” “Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Darlin’, look at me.” You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.” You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants. And that’s not you. You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”

You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.

You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.

One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand.

A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.

After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.”

“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.” “I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.” “Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.” “Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.” “The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.” “I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.” “You really wanna play semantics with me?” “Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.” “Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?” “It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.” “Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.” “Ew, don’t say that.” “Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.” “You suck, you know that?” “Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?” “I dunno, probably not.” “Are you gonna tell him?” “Uhh, I don’t think so.” “Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.” “Tommy…” “Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.” “Liar.” “Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.” “Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.” “That’s not how it works.” “You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?” “Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?” “I’m not sure I can.” “What does your gut say?” “My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.” “As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.” “I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.” “Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.” “Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?” “You know I’m right, baby.”

It’s funny, really.

You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.

As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors, reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids.

You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—

“Hi, darlin’.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.

You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”

“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”

His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.

Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”

Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.

“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”

His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction.

You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.

“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.

Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”

“Hm.”

“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”

As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.

In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?”

You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings.

“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.

Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.

“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”

Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.

You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.

Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.

Thank you for reading! 🤍

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offside-the-lines · 8 months

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tell me who i run to (if not you) | anthony beauvillier

"The first sip is joy, the second is gladness, the third is serenity, the fourth is madness, the fifth is ecstasy." - Jack Kerouac

Summary In July of 2023, Evie looked at a list of cities in North America and rolled a die. Just like that, she packed up her life and moved to Chicago, a fresh start. The 2023-24 NHL season started well for Tito; he did not expect the call on November 28th telling him that he was being traded. To the worst team in the league. And just like that. 10 months after being ripped from his home, he had to pack up and move again. To an unfamiliar city, and to unfamiliar faces. Which is why, when Tito and Evie ran into each other, quite literally, on Christmas morning, they both latched on to a familiar face. Over the next few months, they became close friends. They didn’t talk about the nights shared in Chicago clubs. They didn’t need to. Because they're just friends. Right?

This is a completed fic split into episodes for easier reading. It was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston.

Episode 1. Blue Christmas (4.9k) Episode 2. I. Winter (4.4k) Episode 3. Pal-entine's Day (4.8k) Episode 4. Four-leaf Clover (5.5k) Episode 5. Evie's Birthday 🌶️ (5.6k) Episode 6. II. Spring (4.8k) Episode 7. Not Goodbye 🌶️🌶️ (5.4k) Episode 8. III. Summer (4.8k) Episode 9. Tito's Birthday (4.2k)

Read it in full (44.5k)

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Under the cut: author's notes, tropes, warnings & disclaimer, fun tidbits, chapter summaries

Author's Notes: This fic was written for @bqstqnbruin as part of the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston. It got so out of control long so quickly. I genuinely had so much fun writing this, it's basically my magnum opus; if you look closely, I think you can probably see my soul in there somewhere. I would like to thank @devilssacrament, @wyattjohnston, and @forgottenflowers for being my editors, holding my hand and keeping me sane in this. Also, thanks to @swissboyhisch, and @imperatorrrrr for being a sounding board for ideas . All of your help and support has meant so much to me. You are all just the fucking best, I am sorry this has been my entire personality for the past month, I will probably return to normal soon. Probably...

Tropes: a gut-wrenching mix of angst and fluff with a happy ending, slow burn friends to lover (tbh, idiots to lovers let's be real), alternating POVs

Warnings: alcohol (one instance of alcohol poisoning by side character), mature content bordering on smut (mostly occurring in clubs/public), references to a toxic past relationship. Disclaimer: This series is set in Chicago but does not mention the name of the team based there. Only other Chicago players mentioned by name are: Nick Foligno, Jason Dickinson and Connor Bedard. Other notes: NHL players featured Mat Barzal (a heavily featured supporting character/bestie) and brief mentions of Zach Hyman and Matt Martin. Assume that Tito and Evie are always speaking in French with each other.

Face claim for Evie (if you want one, but you can imagine whoever you like): Adeline Rudolph

Fun Tidbits: Original Character (she/her) called Genevieve Gignac or Evie (pronounced eh-vee) is the oldest sibling of Tito's juniors teammate and friend Brandon Gignac. Along with their other sibling Wiliam, they grew up in Montreal. Evie had been living in Toronto for six years, before moving to Chicago in the summer before the fic starts. I did way too much research so a lot of the little facts are true. Nicknames: (ma) chouette (shoo-wet): owl (mon) chou/chouchou (shoo): in practice, honey, sugar, baby, sweetheart // by definition, my cabbage or my profiterole/cream puff (depends who you ask) Solours (soul-oars): the Québécois name for the yellow Care Bear with the smiling sun on its belly Solou’ (soul-oo): a diminutive Evie decides to use

Cook, Cook, drink your tea, But save some in the pot for me. We'll watch the tea leaves in our cup When our drink is all sipped up. Happiness or fortune great, What will our future be? -- "Afternoon Tea at Pittock Mansion" by R.Z. Berry

Episode Synopses:

Blue Christmas Evie and Tito are both starting life anew in Chicago. It's an unfamiliar city with unfamiliar faces. They're both alone on Christmas. Maybe it's fate that brings them together. Jason and Alandra Dickinson are already smelling smoke from this fire.

I. Winter Tito injures his wrist in the first game of 2024, he’s out for 6-8 weeks and then his car breaks down. He thinks maybe he’s cursed. Evie becomes a shoulder to lean on. Barzy gets suspicious.

Pal-entine’s Day Tito returns her kindness by being a shoulder Evie can lean on when she is having a hard time after all-star break. She tells him it’s anxiety about work. He brings her a box of pastries and they cuddle on the couch all day; he doesn’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day. Later, a hook-up goes very wrong.

Four-leaf Clover Tito’s been playing again, and during his first stretch of away games begins to miss home. Well, Evie’s home anyway. When he sees her in the bar, he can’t help but show it. Barzy calls him out on his lies.

Evie’s Birthday Sometimes the music moves you. Sometimes the bass pounding in your chest makes you do things you wouldn’t do. Fuck it, it’s your birthday. That’s what Evie tells herself anyway. There are gifts given, but there are also secrets kept.

II. Spring Tito tries to tell her— he does— It’s just he needs to find the right time, and something keeps coming up. Evie’s honest with herself. But does that even matter? Mat decides maybe it is his time to intervene.

Not Goodbye Evie realizes that her time is running out. To do what? She doesn’t know. But she has one last night to find out. That is until— Well. It’s too late now. Tito flies home and wonders if that will be the worst mistake of his life.

III. Summer They try to get on with their summers as if nothing is wrong, convincing no one. How long will it take them to realize they can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine? And who will finally take the leap of faith?

Tito’s Birthday Tito receives the best birthday present he has ever gotten: the girl he loves standing at his parent’s front door. It was never destiny or fate; it can only be by choice. And they’ll choose each other every time. Eventually, anyway.

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atriza · 16 days

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Fixed Point pt. 1

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part 2

Summary: Five Hargreeves becomes dangerously obsessed with Y/N, the one person who brings order to his chaotic existence. What begins as a desire to protect her quickly spirals into a twisted need to control her every move. Y/N awakens in an unfamiliar room, only to discover that Five has taken drastic measures to ensure she remains by his side forever. As Five reveals the depths of his obsession, Y/N is forced to confront the terrifying reality that she is now his fixed point in a world where nothing else matters.

Word Count: 1,200 words

Genre:Dark Romance, Psychological Thriller

Content Warning:

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, a soft metronome marking the passage of time in the small, dimly lit room. Five sat in an old armchair, his eyes fixed on the woman across from him. Y/N was asleep, her breathing even, her expression peaceful—completely unaware of the storm brewing just a few feet away.

Five’s gaze traced the curve of her face, the way her hair fanned out across the pillow, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked so calm, so serene, it was almost easy to forget everything that had led to this moment. Almost.

But Five couldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget. He’d been through too much, seen too much. His life had been a series of chaotic, tangled timelines, each one more fragile than the last. But when he found Y/N, everything changed. She was the one fixed point in his otherwise turbulent existence, the one thing that made sense in a universe where nothing else did.

It had started innocently enough, or at least that’s what Five told himself. He had saved her from a mugger in a dark alley, a simple act of heroism—nothing more. But there had been something in her eyes, something that had struck a chord deep within him, something that had awakened a part of him he hadn’t even known existed.

At first, he had convinced himself that he was just keeping an eye on her, making sure she stayed safe. After all, the world was dangerous, and he was the only one who truly understood how fragile the fabric of time could be. He told himself it was his duty to protect her, to make sure she didn’t become another casualty of the chaos.

But it hadn’t taken long for his watchful eye to turn into something darker, something more obsessive. He started following her, keeping tabs on her every movement. He knew where she went, who she talked to, what she ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He knew her favorite books, her favorite songs, the way she liked her tea—everything. And the more he learned about her, the more he became convinced that she was meant to be his.

Of course, Y/N didn’t know any of this. She didn’t know that Five was watching her, guiding her life from the shadows, pulling the strings of fate to keep her close. She didn’t know about the people he had removed from her life—the friends who had suddenly moved away, the men who had inexplicably lost interest in her, the coworkers who had mysteriously been transferred.

But it was all for her, Five assured himself. It was for her safety, her happiness. If they were together, he could keep her safe. He could protect her from the dangers that lurked in every corner of the timeline.

And tonight, he would make sure she finally understood that.

Y/N stirred in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Five’s eyes sharpened, his grip tightening on the armrests of the chair. The anticipation that had been simmering inside him for so long was finally boiling over. He rose silently from the chair, his movements as fluid and precise as ever, and crossed the small room to where she lay.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice soft, almost tender. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open, disoriented at first, but then they focused on him, and confusion filled her gaze. “Five?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “What are you…?”

“I need you to listen to me,” he said, cutting her off, his tone firm but not unkind. “I need you to understand.”

Y/N blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, but the fog in her mind was quickly replaced by a creeping sense of unease. She pushed herself up on her elbows, glancing around the unfamiliar room. “Where are we? What’s going on?”

Five didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving her face. “I’ve kept you safe, Y/N. All this time, I’ve been watching over you, protecting you from the dangers of the world, from the chaos that surrounds us.”

Her confusion deepened, and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “What are you talking about? How did I get here?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he replied smoothly. “You’re safe now, with me. That’s all that matters.”

The unease in her chest turned to fear as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “Five, I…I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re important, Y/N,” he said, his voice laced with an intensity that sent chills down her spine. “You’re the only thing that matters in this entire damned timeline. Everything else is just noise, just chaos. But you…you’re my constant. My fixed point.”

Y/N’s heart raced, her mind scrambling to make sense of his words. She had known Five was different, that there was something dark and dangerous lurking beneath his cool exterior, but she had never imagined this. “This isn’t right,” she said, her voice trembling. “You can’t just…take me like this.”

“I’m not taking you,” Five corrected, his tone almost patient, as if he were explaining something to a child. “I’m saving you. This world is falling apart, Y/N. You’ve seen it. The people, the violence, the chaos. It’s all spiraling out of control. But I can fix it. We can fix it, together. You just need to trust me.”

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “This isn’t fixing anything, Five. This is madness.”

For a moment, a flicker of something—pain? regret?—crossed Five’s face. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold determination that had driven him for so long. “You don’t see it now, but you will,” he said softly. “In time, you’ll understand. And when you do, you’ll thank me.”

Before she could protest, before she could do anything, Five leaned in, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gesture that was almost tender. “Sleep now, Y/N,” he murmured. “I’ll take care of everything.”

With a subtle flick of his hand, a small, almost invisible device he had implanted in the mattress activated, releasing a gentle stream of sedative gas. Y/N’s eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. The room began to spin, and she felt herself sinking back into the bed, her limbs growing heavy.

“Five…please…” she whispered, her voice barely audible as the darkness closed in.

“I’m doing this for you,” Five whispered back, his voice the last thing she heard before she slipped into unconsciousness.

He stayed by her side, watching as her breathing slowed, as her body relaxed into a deep, dreamless sleep. When he was sure she wouldn’t wake, he stood and began to make the final adjustments. The room they were in—a carefully chosen, isolated location far from prying eyes—was equipped with everything they would need. Everything *she* would need.

Five had thought of everything, prepared for every possibility. He had spent countless hours mapping out their future together, ensuring that nothing could tear them apart. No one would come looking for her. No one would miss her. She was his, now and forever.

As he finished his preparations, Five allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Finally, after all the chaos, after all the pain and suffering, he had found his peace. He had found his Y/N. And nothing would ever take her away from him.

With one last glance at her sleeping form, Five turned off the light and left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

He would keep her safe. He would protect her from the world, from the chaos, from everything that sought to tear them apart.

Even if it meant protecting her from herself.

-----------------------------------------

#yandere #yandere five hargreeves #yandere stories #yandere umbrella academy #five hargreeves #aidan gallagher #the umbrella academy #brellies #yanderefive #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreaves x you #number five #five hours #five umbrella academy

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halodwolf · 17 days

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soooo hi. i'm seren. you probably know me but if you don't, hello! i'm a 2spirit ndn transmasc who's been living in florida for the last uh [looks at watch] 8 fucking years! and after a series of unfortunate events i no longer have the physical, emotional, or frankly any capacity to stay in such a toxic, unhealthy environment for anymore of my life. it has been the culmination of all the worst things that have ever happened to me and to stay here any longer than i have to will quite frankly be the death of me. so. i'm moving back home to virginia in late 2025!

unfortunately, this is a very pricey endeavor and for reasons i'm not getting into, my savings have been drained and i am basically starting from square one to do this. so i am opening commissions for the foreseeable future to fund my move from florida to virginia. i make a pretty decent chunk of money at my job but my rent is almost $1400 dollars and i am fronting all bills alone so most of my money is currently going towards that. i already have a job laid out for me once i move so all funds are literally going straight into things like a down payment on a car, deposits at a new apartment, uhaul fees, etc.

payments for commissions will be done up front through whatever payment option you see fit - i have pp, cashapp, and venmo. turn around time should be no longer than a week depending on my queue but i will try my best to get all art out within a couple of days if i can!

if you like what i do, are a fan of closed loops and my art, or are just wanting to help a guy out, my ko-fi is here.

thank you all so much for any and all support <3 it means the world to me and any kindness offered is truly a blessing

#open commissions #commissions #art commisions #art comms open #furry art #furry commissions #furry comms open #furry #commissions open

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devieuls · 20 hours

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ˋ Haunted . ✺

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoor sex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 8.3k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

· · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · ·

⠀⠀Chapter VIII: Connections

The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Still sitting on him, your breaths mingled with his, but in your mind, everything had grown cold and distant, serene. When you pulled away from the kiss, resting your forehead against his, your eyes closed as if shielding yourself from what you felt, isolating your thoughts while the weight of your decision suffocated you. Qimir still held you, but he seemed to sense the growing distance between you.

His hands moved with an almost painful tenderness across your skin, caressing your cheek as if trying to hold onto you in that moment, pulling you back from your thoughts.

"You don’t have to do this" he whispered, his voice filled with sweetness and concern. He was trying to bring you back to him, into the present, into the world you two had built in that fleeting moment stolen from fate. But he already knew, deep down, that his words would carry little weight.

You swallowed, your eyes still closed, but you felt that void within you, a space that seemed impossible to fill. When you finally opened them, he saw something different. The light that once burned bright and fierce was now replaced by a darker, deeper shadow, fueled by a fire that even you seemed unable to fully control.

"I owe it to Mae." Your words were cold, filled with fierce determination. The name of your sister slipped from your lips like a vow, an unbreakable promise. And Qimir felt a shiver run down his spine. The pain you had kept hidden beneath layers of suppressed emotions had turned into pure resolve.

"You already know where this path will lead." His piercing gaze sought yours, as if trying to stop you from fully giving in to the darkness that was slowly taking hold, the same darkness he had once offered you to accept. He could sense your determination like an impenetrable wall, reminiscent of what he himself had experienced so many years ago, when he was a padawan and embraced the dark side.

You turned your face, firmly brushing his hand aside. Your gaze, unwavering and sharp as a blade, was now devoid of the sweetness you had offered him just moments before. Then you stood up, composed, a figure full of authority and resolve. Every movement was measured, almost cold, mirroring his.

“You can’t know that,” you retorted, your voice icy and devoid of emotion. “I’m no longer a Jedi; there’s no light or darkness left for me to follow” you declared in a cutting tone. Your gaze briefly shifted to the nexu, watching you both silently, almost entranced by your interaction. “You said it yourself. I am who I am, and I choose me.” Those words, so final and distant, sounded like a sentence as you turned and began walking toward the ship’s corridor, moving away from him.

Qimir watched you as you distanced yourself, lowering his gaze in frustration. A long sigh escaped his lips as he turned back to the ship’s controls, raising a hand to his face to rub his temples. Yet even as you physically pulled away, he could still feel the shadow of your presence. The bond that the Force created between the two of you was powerful, a web of life and power that made every fiber of your beings vibrate. It was as if he could feel every thought, every emotion, without needing to enter your mind.

And as much as he tried to suppress the fear, he knew something was changing in you. The Force flowed strongly within you, but with it came danger. The Jedi would never have allowed you to fully give in to the darkness, yet your refusal to choose between light and dark made you unpredictable a volatile threat to Him…

What he had glimpsed in your false memories during that kiss left him deeply shaken. The fragments he had seen showed a future where your path seemed carved out toward a dark destiny, one he had followed himself, one he both hoped and feared you would embrace. Inside you was a power that the Jedi had never fully understood, a latent force now emerging with newfound ferocity, fueled by your thirst for vengeance and your search for freedom. For your own identity.

Qimir knew what that path meant; he understood the consequences. Yet deep in his heart, there was a spark of hope that your decision to face Sol would draw you closer to his mission. Perhaps, deep down, he even wanted it. He had invested too much in you, in the moments you two shared, to let you slip away so easily. Qimir had sacrificed a part of himself to find you, to bind himself to you, and he was willing to sacrifice even more if it meant not losing you.

He knew that if you killed Sol, you would throw open the doors to the part of yourself you had so long tried to deny. And perhaps, when everything was over, you would realize that your freedom would never be complete unless you fully embraced the bond between you.

The hours dissolved quickly as your ship glided through Coruscant’s atmosphere, landing far from the bustling chaos of the central capital. The metal and glass dome of the vessel allowed you to take in the sprawling labyrinth of the capital city below, oppressive and vivid all at once.

Qimir sat beside you, still in the pilot’s seat, his gaze fixed on the familiar landscape with a look that betrayed a certain caution. For him, returning there meant reopening old wounds, scars from his past that had never fully healed. He knew he was taking a risk by coming back into the heart of danger, into the wolf's den where his old master awaited him, perhaps unknowingly. If she sensed his presence, his survival would hang by a thread, but that didn’t stop him. He knew he was doing this for you, to give you the freedom and peace you had been chasing for so long. And yet, as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a part of him wondered if it was truly worth it.

Once you landed, you rose from the co-pilot’s seat, distancing yourself from him for a brief moment. Then, like a shadow fading in the light, you felt something shift. You turned, returning to him, expecting to sense the familiar flow of the Force coursing around his body, that subtle vibration that linked every fiber of his being to your perception. But there was nothing. No trace of him, no echo of power. It was as if Qimir had been swallowed by a void, as if his connection to the Force had been snuffed out.

This wasn’t the first time Qimir had suppressed the flow of the Force within him, masking it as he did when he first encountered Sol in what had been his cover shop.

You stood there, staring at him, surprised, almost destabilized, as he donned his black cloak. You couldn’t read his presence as you had so many times before. He was there, right in front of you, yet he wasn’t. Or rather, it felt as though his essence had been wrapped in something invisible, a cloak that obscured every signal, rendering him almost imperceptible to your senses. It wasn’t just his power that was hidden, but his very essence, as if his soul itself had receded deep within, distant and unreachable.

It was unsettling, surreal. He had become a complete stranger, a faint outline in your field of vision. Yet there was something incredibly captivating about this ability of his. His capacity to conceal himself, to merge with the darkness, was something you had never witnessed before, something not even the Jedi Masters had taught, as they knew too little of such techniques.

You walked with determined steps along the wide streets of the capital’s outskirts, the burgundy cloak that once belonged to Mae covering your head, hiding your face from the many eyes of the city. You didn’t ask how Qimir managed to hide himself so perfectly. Every time you tried to sense him, to touch that spark in the Force that made him recognizable, you were met with a disconcerting emptiness. He was there, just a few steps behind you, yet his presence seemed to dissolve like smoke in the air.

It was afternoon, and the outskirts were brimming with life and movement. Merchants argued loudly, vendors shouted to promote their goods, and from the bars, the sound of music and raised voices mingled with the rowdy hustle of tipsy customers and the sweet perfume of prostitutes who tried to charm passersby with false smiles and hollow eyes. The scent of spices, the worn air, and the sweet aroma of the women of pleasure invaded your senses, and the crowd served as a perfect cloak to hide your presence. You ignored it all, as if the city itself had become nothing more than a faded backdrop to your mission. Nothing else existed but that dark call, the pull leading you toward your master.

The cloak protected you from curious glances, but not from the chaos within. You walked with a steady pace, ignoring the external world, focusing every thought on Sol. You could feel him, his power in the Force was like a beacon in the storm of emotions within you. You knew exactly where to find him, and each step brought you closer.

Qimir followed silently behind you, though every so often, his warm, low voice seemed to try and bridge the invisible distance you had created between you, like an underground current trying to pull you back.

“You're still in time to…” he began, as if offering you one last chance to turn back, but you silenced him with a cold, almost icy response without even looking at him.

“I know.” Your gaze remained fixed ahead, among the crowd that moved like a river around you. Your voice carried the weight of someone who had already decided, immovable. Yet you felt a thin tension between you that threatened to snap. You could sense his concern, even though he had rendered himself invisible to the Force.

The streets grew more chaotic, and you moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where they were going. The voices of merchants echoed in your ears, offering exotic goods, jewelry, and food, but your mind was elsewhere. Behind you, you felt Qimir’s gaze following you, silent but palpable. He knew what you were thinking; he could feel it.

“You’re not ready to face him, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice lower, almost choked. The tone was filled with concern but also with a cold awareness that you were refusing to acknowledge.

His words, however, struck you like an electric shock running down your spine. You held your breath for a moment, feeling the heat of resentment rising within you, the weight of his judgment making your blood boil. Your gaze hardened.

You couldn’t afford to waver.

“I’m not you.” Your words were sharp as a dagger, cutting into the wound that had never fully healed in him. “I won’t let my master strike me down only to run away wounded. I’ll do what I came here to do,” you finished. Your voice was hard, almost cruel, and as you walked, you didn’t realize how those words came out, sharp like a blade, sinking into Qimir’s heart with lethal precision. The pain in his gaze was unmistakable, even though he tried to hide it behind a veil of silence.

Only when you turned, searching for his figure behind you, did you notice that veil of pain in his gaze. You had touched a nerve, and you knew it. Qimir had never forgotten that wound, neither physical nor emotional, but he had opened up to you, letting you glimpse that fragment of his past.

You felt the weight of your words falling back on you. His gaze lowered slightly, and the silent pain he carried seemed to etch itself even deeper into his features. You bit the inside of your cheek, cursing yourself for having spoken so harshly. But it was too late to take those words back.

That expression struck you harder than you wanted to admit, and a pang of remorse tightened your breath. You didn’t understand why, in that very moment, you had become so cold towards him, as if part of you had built an icy wall. Perhaps it was the pressure, the growing tension as you approached Sol. Or maybe your own heart was too full of conflicting emotions to see clearly.

“I…” you began, your voice breaking. “You know I didn’t mean what I said.” you whispered, resuming your walk, your voice finally softer, almost regretful. You didn’t want to admit it, but you truly felt sorry for having struck so harshly. Qimir had always been there for you, and in that moment, you realized how much your emotions were taking over.

“I know” Qimir replied, but his tone was hollow, distant. He tried to mask the pain you had caused, but he couldn’t entirely hide it.

You stopped again without turning, your breath uneven as you tried to gather the pieces of yourself. The chaos of Galactic City continued around you, but for a moment, everything felt distant, as if the world had retreated to the background. Clenching your fists beneath the burgundy cloak, you searched for clarity in the turmoil consuming you.

"I'm sorry," you murmured through gritted teeth, nearly choked by your own frustration. "It’s just… I'm full of emotions, sensations … That I can't think straight. It’s this place." Your words were sincere, but you knew they wouldn't be enough to erase the pain you'd inflicted. Inside, a storm was raging, hatred, fear, pain, and a glimmer of hope, all intertwined and clashing.

"You're more like her than you realize" Qimir said, his voice an echo of the past, heavy with an observation he'd carried for a long time. His gaze, laced with recognition, held a weight that hit you deeply. The mention of Mae, always a thin thread binding everything you did, twisted painfully inside you. Hearing her name associated with you in that way made a lump form in your throat.

You clenched your jaw, pushing down the wave of emotions his words stirred within you. At that moment, it seemed only fair that he had found a way to wound you as well, even though he hadn’t meant to hurt you, just a thought spoken aloud. You took a deep breath and started walking again, this time faster, ignoring him. Your steps grew more resolute, almost angry, as you headed towards the upper part of the city.

After fifteen minutes, the city's energy shifted. You could feel it, an oppressive presence in the Force, like a heavy cloud wrapping around you. Jedi on patrol, Jedi strolling, politicians, they all resonated like notes in a rising symphony within your mind. Swallowing hard, you tried to focus on the connection with Sol, but something about this place unsettled you, as if a part of you wanted to retreat. A pure, distant, yet palpable energy teased your senses, like a whisper urging you to reconsider your actions.

Your heartbeat quickened, and with it, your frustration. Anxiety clouded your focus, and suddenly, the thread of Sol slipped through your grasp like sand between your fingers. You stopped abruptly, breath ragged, muscles tense. You had lost control, and Qimir noticed immediately.

"Relax," he whispered, his voice gentle, soothing against the confusion assaulting you. His hand rested lightly on your shoulder, and despite everything, the gesture anchored you to reality for a fleeting moment.

"If you keep pushing, you'll attune yourself to the Force of the entire city. Focus on your connection to him, find it within you. Use your emotions to guide you," his voice was calm, a guide as you followed his instructions, slowly finding your center.

His words flowed through you like a fresh breeze, cutting through the storm of thoughts and feelings swirling inside. You took a deep breath, letting the uncertainty slip away. Closing your eyes, you dove into the Force, trying to feel Sol once again. The chaotic vibrations of the city began to fade, blending into the background as you focused solely on him. The invisible threads of the Force around you shifted like taut strings, each belonging to someone in the capital, but you sought the one that bound you to Sol.

One heartbeat, then another, your breath deep and steady. Finally, you felt it. That thread, intense, familiar, pulsed in the Force like a blinding light. You recognized it.

“That way.” you murmured decisively, opening your eyes and fixing your gaze in the direction that now seemed inevitable. You began walking, your steps still filled with tension, but this time they were purposeful, deliberate. Each meter you covered brought you closer to the Jedi Temple.

Qimir followed closely, his gaze watchful and silent. He could sense the struggle within you, feel your uncertainty growing with every step. He knew how much this was costing you, how hard you were trying to maintain control, but the fear that your determination might lead you back to your master crept into his thoughts. He prayed it wouldn’t happen, it would be unbearable to watch you die in front of him.

When the Jedi Temple finally appeared in the distance, an imposing and solemn structure, you paused for a moment, your breath short and nervous. You had hoped with all your heart that Sol wasn’t there. You didn’t want to step back into that place you once called home. You didn’t want to face the ghosts that resided there.

You ventured deeper into the temple, followed closely by Qimir, whose presence seemed to envelop you like an invisible veil, making you almost imperceptible as you crossed the main atrium. Each step was accompanied by the irregular beat of your heart, an incessant drum of nervousness. You prayed you wouldn’t encounter anyone you knew, and fortunately, no familiar faces appeared. Yet, every corner, every corridor whispered forgotten memories, the voices of the past calling out to you. Your time as a Padawan resurfaced like thin blades, slowly and imperceptibly cutting into your skin with each recollection, with every step forward.

The towering walls of the temple’s ziggurat loomed over you, cold and silent, heavy with history. They had once been your protectors; now, they felt like ghosts, shadows of what you had lost. You continued walking, your steps growing more hesitant, until you reached the First Knowledge Quarter, in the northwest section of the ancient building. Each step in that direction strengthened the bond with your master. It was a sensation that shook you to your core: a mix of familiarity and terror, like the pull of a truth you had tried to escape.

The corridor leading to a place that had once been your refuge, your sanctuary from the sharp tongues of those who doubted you were worthy of being a Padawan, struck you with a wave of emotion. You felt a longing for it, feeling almost the nostalgia of…

"The Room of a Thousand Fountains…" Qimir whispered, completing the thought you had kept to yourself. His words echoed like a shared memory. You glanced at him, surprised to remember that he too had walked these halls, many years before you. His face was unreadable, but in his eyes, you glimpsed a deep understanding of what you were feeling.

“He’s there.” you murmured, swallowing heavily.

In front of you lay the entrance to the room, a gateway that seemed to conceal far more than just a physical space. Entering meant turning back, facing not just Sol, but everything you had been, everything that had driven you to become a Jedi, and everything you had lost.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains was exactly as you remembered it, yet something about it felt different. Time hadn’t altered its majestic beauty: exotic flora and fauna from all over the galaxy filled the space, creating a landscape both alien and comforting. The artisans and botanists who had designed it had managed to craft an oasis of peace and serenity in a temple that, although dedicated to the Force, could often become an oppressive place. The sound of water flowed softly, gurgling from a thousand small fountains, reflecting the light in delicate cascades that seemed to dance among the lush trees and bushes. A light mist rose from the streams, cloaking the air with a freshness that carried the weight of ancient tranquility.

A part of you longed to stop, to breathe deeply in that peace, and lose yourself in the place that, as a child, you had considered your true home. Sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting the water of the fountains in golden and azure hues. The trees, covered in bright flowers, swayed gently, moved by a breeze that seemed to come from another world. But today, this place was no longer a refuge. Today, it was the stage for your battle, for your fall.

With every step you took into the room, you drew closer to Sol, and with it, the weight of emotion grew heavier. There was no room left for serenity; everything within you was transforming into a grip of tension. Your breath was quick and shallow, your fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of Mae’s cloak. The memory of her, of her loss, fueled the fire of your determination, but at the same time, it consumed you.

Behind you, Qimir followed you in silence, his gaze piercing, as if he could sense every conflict raging within you. He felt your nervousness, the way your strength seemed to waver between control and impulse, between light and darkness. And he said nothing, letting you sink into your thoughts. It was your battle, and he knew it.

When you stopped in front of the central area of the hall, time seemed to slow down. The beating of your heart echoed in your ears like drums on a battlefield. Sol was there, sitting cross-legged, immersed in meditation, his unmistakable figure at the center of that oasis which had once been your refuge. But now, that serenity seemed to you like a cruel illusion, a mirror reflecting a calm you could never reach again. The sound of the fountains blended with your thoughts, amplifying the inner turmoil devouring you. Every drop of water seemed to fall as heavily as a blade on your skin, flowing slowly but relentlessly, carving invisible wounds.

Inside you, the storm was growing. Fear, nostalgia, pain, anger… Every emotion you had repressed was now rising to the surface, like a river that had burst its banks. The image of Sol in front of you was both familiar and foreign. You could no longer recognize the man you once considered a guide, an almost fatherly figure. Now, seeing his calmness, the contrast with your fury was unbearable. Your hand clenched around the hilt of the lightsaber that Osha had wielded at Qimir's side for years. The cold sensation of the metal against your skin was the only anchor to reality.

Sol's voice shattered the silence with devastating power.

“Y/n…” Sol's voice cut through the air with the same intensity as the water from the fountains crashing onto the ground below. You shivered at the sound of your name on his lips, a blow to your soul. How dare he speak to you with such familiarity? How dare he drag you back with just one word?

You didn’t respond. Every fiber of your being strained to contain the fury rising within. You felt the heat of anger burning inside, mixed with a deeper cold: the cold of betrayal. You watched him rise with the same calm that had always been his, as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. You saw him turn toward you, his expression shifting from the relief of feeling your presence again to the gravity of the situation he now faced. The serene, relieved look quickly gave way to the shadow of understanding. Your stance, the lightsaber in your hand, everything, spoke louder than words.

“Master.” The word slipped from your lips like a blade of ice, sharp, cold, laced with pain and resentment. It was the first time you had called him that since he abandoned you on Khofar. Every time you spoke that title, the poison of the past resurfaced, tainting every thought, every memory. You had admired him, followed him blindly, and he had left you behind, without explanation, without a helping hand. Abandoned to the enemy.

Sol swallowed, and you saw the flash of realization in his eyes. He understood. Finally, he understood.

“Don’t do that…” His voice, now broken by a plea, seemed almost surreal. He, who had once been your rock, the one who always knew what to do, was now there, disarmed, vulnerable, almost defenseless, a shadow of the man you once considered a father. His lightsaber lay a few steps away from him, but he didn’t call it to him. He didn’t want to fight you. Or at least, he still hoped he wouldn’t have to.

He could sense everything about you: the turmoil of emotions, the growing hatred, the fear consuming you. He could read your thoughts, see the depth of your suffering, and he understood exactly how far you were willing to go. But that wasn’t enough to stop you. Not anymore. You belonged to the darkness now.

Pain gripped your chest like a vice. Your time with Qimir had forged a different person, a harder, more ruthless one. But the real blow, the true trauma, had been being abandoned by him, right when you needed him most. He had fled, leaving you to face the pain and the Sith without looking back. Your mind was a whirlwind of contrasting images: his teachings, the warmth of his affection… and then the coldness with which he left, abandoning you. The open wound that had turned into a scar burned, and you no longer knew if you were driven by the desire for revenge or the desperation to understand.

And then there was Mae.

A wave of hatred surged through you at the thought of your sister, dead under circumstances that still tore at your soul, so inexplicable they were. You had feared that Sol might have been involved, that he had made the fatal decision that led to her death. You couldn’t look at him without seeing hands stained with blood—the blood of your family. The uncertainty, the anguish of not knowing if he was responsible, strangled your soul.

Betrayal, abandonment, hatred. And fear.

Fear that, deep down, he truly was the man you feared he had become. Fear that his wisdom had been an illusion, that everything he taught you was merely a shadow of what he really was. The possibility that he could have been the one behind Mae’s death terrified you, made you lose control.

Your breath was becoming more labored, and your fingers clenched around the lightsaber as if the mere grip could contain all the chaos you were trying to tame. But you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

‘I can’t stop.’ you thought, the echo of your own determination reverberating through the peaceful hall.

Qimir watched the scene from a distance, hidden in the shadow of a massive tree at the edge of the hall. The sound of rushing water seemed to muffle everything happening, but he could sense every single emotion coursing through you. It was as if your emotions were an extension of his own, a distorted reflection of his past.

The hatred burning within you was palpable, a poison spreading through the air like an invisible gas. Qimir felt it vibrating in his bones, seeing in your fury what had once been his own. The hatred for his Jedi master, the repressed anger at the teachings that had imprisoned him, the thirst for revenge that had consumed him. It was like a flashback swallowing him whole, a cycle repeating with cruel precision.

He remembered perfectly when, decades earlier, he had found himself in the same place you were now. With a trembling hand on his lightsaber, ready to lash out at his master, blinded by pain and rage. He knew what it meant to be devoured by hatred, to understand that there would be no redemption in committing the final act, losing everything. That revenge would not bring peace but only an unstoppable spiral of chaos. Qimir had been drawn into that darkness and had never managed to find a way out. His life had been marked by that one decision that had finally set him free.

And now he saw you there. He knew perfectly well that you wouldn’t find peace in killing Sol. The illusion of relief would last a mere heartbeat during the confrontation, and then emptiness would claim everything. But he wouldn’t intervene. Not this time.

Qimir had already made up his mind. He wouldn’t stop you.

If he interfered, he would break that cycle, and somehow your suffering would redeem his. But he wasn’t ready for that. In a sense, he shouldn’t be. Allowing you to commit that act was necessary, as it would lead you down the path to the dark side. It would be so; He had decided it would be so, and he found himself succumbing to a decision he knew would be destructive for you.

He knew it wouldn’t be your hatred that would destroy you, but your conviction that this was the only way to find peace.

Sol's voice was like a sharp blade piercing your soul, but the pain wasn’t enough to stop you. His words,

"This isn't you, my old Padawan" echoed like a distant memory, buried beneath layers of hatred and resentment. Every fiber of your being screamed for vengeance, each step you took toward him charged with an unstoppable tension. Sol's paternal tone grated against your ears, covered by anger and bitterness, as you found the strength to ask the fatal question.

"Mae… Where is she?" Your voice trembled, and you hated yourself for that weakness. You desperately sought a thread of hope, a sign that she was still alive, that it had all been a mistake. A part of you even hoped to discover that she was actually alive and that you didn't feel the Force bond with her only because she had used a skill similar to the one Qimir employed to disguise herself. But that was not the case; Sol's expression answered you more than his words could.

"Y/n… we-" he began, desperately trying to find the right words, but it was useless. Your grip on the lightsaber was so tight that your knuckles turned white.

"You killed her." Your words were pure poison, a definitive condemnation. The resentment and darkness in your gaze would have made anyone tremble, even the bravest of Jedi Masters.

"That's not what happened…" His hand reached out toward you, hoping to reclaim what was left of the Padawan he once knew, but his other hand was ready to call his lightsaber.

You advanced slowly, each step heavy as lead, uncertain yet determined at the same time. For a single, desperate moment, you hoped that somehow he could tell you that he hadn’t done anything, that he wasn’t responsible for what had been your sister’s death.

"But it was like that…" you murmured, almost trying to convince yourself, still in disbelief and confusion. Then you saw it in his eyes: betrayal, guilt. The fragments of your heart shattered into a thousand pieces, burning with hatred.

"You… you killed her." Your whisper became a verdict, and for the first time, you noticed fear in your old master's eyes. The man you had once revered now trembled before you, aware of how much you had changed, completely consumed by hatred. And it was in that moment that everything collapsed.

"I… y/n…"

Sol quickly called his lightsaber to him, the familiar sound of its activation resonating in the hall. You struck at him with all your strength, the weight of your pain pouring into the violence of the attack. He blocked your strike at the last second, but the clash of the blades echoed in the room, breaking the harmony of the waterfalls and the chirping of some birds.

There, amidst the beauty of nature, the serenity of the place shattered under the fire of combat. The blades hissed in the air, illuminating the waterfalls and the exotic plants around you, while the water reflected flashes of red and blue light. The rough stone floor beneath you vibrated with each impact, and every time the lightsabers met, a spark of pure energy lit up the green of the surrounding garden. The leaves of the trees rustled beneath your swift movements, as your heavy breaths mingled with the constant sound of flowing water.

"Y/n, don’t succumb to your darkness…" Sol still tried to reach you, but his words were drowned out by the clash of lightsabers. Each strike you unleashed was fiercer than the last, an explosion of uncontrollable rage. Your technique merged with a brutality you had never known. Sol, his face etched with pain and disappointment, struggled to defend himself, blocking your attacks with increasing difficulty.

In your fury, you had lost all control. Every thrust was heavy with hatred, the blade of your lightsaber sliding close to his flesh, grazing his Jedi robes with lethal precision. The sound of water became more distant, muffled by the pounding beat of your heart. Each blow that Sol parried drove you to strike harder, faster, as if only his destruction could quell the turmoil within you.

"You’re not like this!" Sol shouted, retreating, almost pleading, as he defended against yet another strike. But he knew he could no longer stop you. Your emotions were a raging river, overwhelming, uncontrollable. The past, the lies, Mae’s death… everything had pushed you beyond your limit, and now you were unstoppable. Sol, the master who had once taught you calm and peace, was now the target of your deepest hatred.

The hall transformed into a theater of destruction. The harmonious sound of the artificial forest was drowned out by the sharp hum of lightsabers and the violent clash of your blades striking with ferocity. You felt nothing, saw nothing; all you felt now was hatred. The vibrant green of the plants and the blue of the waters no longer existed for you. Only the red of your fury.

"You promised to protect me!" Your scream exploded in the hall, echoing against the walls as your saber finally found its mark. The blade sizzled as it struck Sol’s shoulder, leaving a burning cut. It wasn’t enough. His face contorted in pure terror as he used the Force to throw you back, the instinctive gesture of a man pushed to his limit, yet still reluctant to hurt you. "To protect both of us!" you continued, your anger resonating in your voice like thunder as you rose again, fueled by hatred. You lunged at him once more with uncontrolled fury, your strikes becoming faster, more precise, as you sought every possible opening. Sol was now forced to defend himself desperately, parrying your thrusts with quick but increasingly fatigued movements, barely dodging your last attack.

"It was a mistake…" he said in a strained voice, his breathing heavy, bringing a hand to the burn on his shoulder, seeking relief he would never find. He retreated, his face twisted in pain, both physical and emotional, unable to tear his gaze from you, as if he were looking at someone he no longer recognized.

But you could no longer hear his words. Each time your blade met his, your frustration grew. You struck with such violence that pieces of flora fell to the ground, severed and charred. The fountains, once symbols of your serenity, now reflected the darkness consuming you. Your emotions, once controlled, were now an uncontrollable torrent of pain, grief, and anger. Your lightsaber sliced through the air with ferocity, hissing like a snake ready to strike, destroying everything you had once loved. Every blow you dealt was an act of accusation, an open wound.

"I trusted you…" Your voice cracked, a mix of hatred and regret reflected in your movements. Sol, despite his fatigue, still managed to defend himself, but his movements grew slower. Your anger made you stronger, but also more unpredictable, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

With a scream of rage, you plunged your saber with all your might, aiming for his chest, seeking the decisive blow. But Sol, in a last desperate act, blocked the strike with a speed you wouldn’t have thought possible. Your blades crossed with devastating force, sparks flying in every direction, illuminating the space around you. The sound of metal and energy colliding was deafening, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Only you and Sol remained.

Your sabers sizzled and screeched, locked in a struggle of strength and will. You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of remorse, any confirmation that the Sol you once knew still existed. What you found broke your heart.

With a furious cry, you pushed with all your strength, forcing him to retreat once again. But he, breathless and moving slower, had no intention of hurting you. He blocked every strike, dodging with pinpoint precision, but he did not counterattack. His gaze was that of a broken man, aware of what he had lost, powerless to reclaim it. The gaze of a father…

"Please…" he whispered, but his words were drowned out by the roar of your blade approaching once more. The movements became frantic. Your legs moved agilely, jumping over small ponds and the carved rocks decorating the hall, seizing every hold to try to strike him from a new angle. But Sol, despite the pain and fatigue, still held his ground. He jumped back, parrying and dodging, but each time he was closer to his limit.

The beauty of the Room of a Thousand Fountains was consumed by the fury of battle. The waterfalls, once symbols of calm and contemplation, now reflected the destruction around you. The exotic trees, once lush, fell to the ground one after another, struck by your merciless blade. The air itself felt denser, suffocating, as your strikes grew more desperate. Broken plants, shattered statues, water splashing everywhere as your blade mercilessly cut not only the nature around you but also the memories of your childhood, the moments when this place had been your home, your refuge. It was no longer any of that. Now it was just the stage for your revenge.

Sol continued to defend himself, desperately seeking a way to stop you without hurting you. But you were now unstoppable. Every blow, every movement, was heavy with the weight of years of pain and betrayal. Yet beneath all that anger, there was still a part of you that didn’t want this end. A part that screamed to stop, that knew if you continued, you would lose yourself forever.

Every strike you unleashed against Sol was a cry of despair, an explosion of years of pain and betrayal. Your blade buzzed in the air, seeking its target, but each time it was halted by the stubborn resistance of your old master. Yet, he did not counterattack. Sol would never raise his blade against you, even as death approached ever closer. His face, a mask of torment, reflected not hatred but only regret and love, wounded by your darkness.

"I believed in you!"

The words choked out of your throat, a strangled cry as pain cut through the armor of rage that surrounded you. Tears threatened to fall, but you held them back, fueled by the fury that now completely dominated you. Every movement was fierce, every strike a silent scream of your broken heart. You were close to the edge, and he knew it. Each blow he barely parried, each step back he took, pushed you further toward the point of no return. Yet, deep within you, something still screamed, desperately trying to stop you. But you no longer listened to that voice.

Frustration grew inside you. The awareness urging you not to do this was no longer enough. Every blow parried by Sol felt like a rejection of your vengeance, a denial of the last act of love you could have offered to Mae.

Sol managed to send your lightsaber flying with a decisive wave of his hand, using the Force one last time with the last of his strength. You felt the absence of the familiar weight of the weapon, and panic mixed with rage surged through you. You were disarmed. He knew it. He sheathed his inactive lightsaber at his side and moved quickly toward you, his face etched with pain and determination. Before you could react, his arms enveloped you in a desperate embrace, the hands that once supported you now holding you captive.

His arms, once a refuge, were now a cold, suffocating trap. The force with which he held you was not just physical but emotional: a desperate attempt to bring you back, to save what remained of his padawan. You felt his voice break against your ear as he tried to explain himself, the hope of changing your mind clashing with the growing despair.

"I had to do it, I-"

But his words were muffled when your hand, driven by an unstoppable dark impulse, found his lightsaber.

And then, something broke inside you.

It was as if an invisible thread, the one that had kept you tied to humanity, had snapped. You felt your hand become steady, your mind go blank, frozen in the moment. In that brief instant, the world seemed to slow down.

In a fluid, almost mechanical motion, you activated it without hesitation at his side. The sharp sound of the energy blade piercing his flesh, burning it, echoed in the room like a sudden crash in the quiet. You felt his body stiffen, a strangled sob escaping him, and the warmth of his blood rising in his throat, splattering on your shoulder. That blood, thick and dark, burned your skin like the mark of an irreversible wound.

Time distorted, and everything became a distant echo. Sol stood still for a moment, almost in disbelief, his eyes widening as they met yours with a mix of pain and surprise. The deep brown of his irises seemed to fade, replaced by profound sadness, an emptiness that reflected your own. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

As he felt his life slipping away, his gaze deepened further, becoming a window into all the emotions he had suppressed until that moment. There was infinite disappointment, not in you, but in himself. He should have protected you; he should have been there for you. In that final moment, he realized that he had failed.

Sol's eyes searched yours, as if still hoping to see the young padawan he had trained, the girl he loved like a daughter. But he found nothing of what he remembered. He finally understood that there was no way to bring you back, and with that realization, a deep sadness clouded his gaze. There was no hatred in him, only a silent forgiveness.

Sol staggered, collapsing to his knees as your gaze remained fixed in the void, devoid of any spark of compassion. The weight of his body grew lighter in your arms, yet you felt nothing. Inside you, something had broken forever, but it was not pain you felt, only a cold emptiness that enveloped you completely.

As he fell to his knees, Sol's eyes never left yours, as if he wanted to imprint that final message in you: despite everything, he would always love you, until the end. His eyelids slowly closed, like the lowering of a curtain on a tragedy, and with one last whisper of your name, he surrendered to his fate.

"You promised…" you whispered, your voice no longer seeming like your own, drained of emotion and warmth, as if it were rising from the depths of an endless abyss. As you slowly clenched your hand into a fist, giving him a death more painful than he deserved, suffocating him with the Force. There was no more hatred, no more anger. Only a deafening silence now.

And as Sol's body fell to the ground, his gaze now slowly empty, you understood that there was no redemption, no return. Inside you, there was nothing left. The fury, the hatred, the desire for vengeance that had guided you until that moment had faded, leaving you only with the unbearable weight of the realization: you had lost everything.

Tears streamed down your impassive face as you gripped the iron hilt, watching the now semi-destroyed hall. The blue blade slowly began to take on the crimson hue of Qimir and your sister. You had nothing left. You had nothing left, not even vengeance.

A memory crashed over you like a sudden wave, trapping you in a fragment of time you had almost forgotten, yet it was there, buried beneath layers of pain and hatred.

You were still a young padawan, sitting in front of Sol in the council chamber, a vast and imposing room that made you feel even smaller. The Jedi council members were arranged in a circle, their serious and stern eyes focused on you. Despite the tension, Sol's figure beside you was a beacon of warmth, a paternal presence that shielded you from the oppressive atmosphere. His warm hands gently rested on your slender arms covered by your padawan robes, a gesture that spoke of affection and reassurance, and for a moment, you felt safe.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

He asked gently, his low, enveloping voice inviting you to look within yourself. There was no judgment in his tone, just genuine interest, a sincere curiosity to know how you imagined your future. His eyes studied you with affection, reflecting a trust that had always comforted you, even in the most difficult moments.

But that question, so simple, suddenly made you feel exposed. The knot in your throat tightened with unexpected force, the words seemed to be stifled before they could even form. You looked at Sol, searching his eyes for the answer, something that would make him proud, something that could alleviate the weight growing inside you. You could feel the weight of the other Jedi's gazes around you, as if the fate of your entire future depended on that one answer.

“Kind…”

You finally whispered, your voice weak and almost broken, as if that word had been drawn from the depths of your heart with great effort. Your lips trembled slightly as you held back the tears threatening to fall. You didn’t want to cry; you didn’t even know why that word had struck you so deeply.

Sol, sensing your hesitation and fragility, smiled. A smile full of understanding and comfort. His eyes sparkled with pure emotion, and without saying anything, he wrapped you in an embrace, enveloping you in his reassuring presence. In that moment, it felt like nothing could ever hurt you.

“Mh…” Sol murmured in a deep tone, full of satisfaction. He was reassured, as if that answer had confirmed everything he already knew or thought he knew about you. That sound seemed to contain all that needed no words: his approval, his pride, his joy in knowing he could guide you along the path you had just begun to walk. There was no doubt now: he would become your master. You knew it. He knew it too.

And for a brief moment, amidst the chaos of your fractured mind, that memory brought back the feeling of no longer being that innocent, hopeful young padawan; you had killed him along with the paternal figure now lying at your feet. But then, the memory shattered, dissolving into the empty echo of the present. And you were back there, with Sol's lifeless body on the ground, your hands still stained with his blood and your gaze cold.

You shifted your gaze to one of the trees, watching it slowly catch fire in front of you. You recognized its bark as coming from Brendok, your home planet. As a child, you loved to hide among its branches, climbing up and disappearing from your friends. You loved that tree; it reminded you of your mother, strong and wise, always ready to protect you. Now, you felt nothing for it. You turned and met Qimir's gaze, which seemed to understand your absence.

Was this what he meant when he told you he had lost everything and had finally become free? Was this the cost of freedom?

“Let’s go home.” you hissed coldly, pulling up your hood that had fallen during the battle. You didn't even turn to give a final glance at Sol's body. You reached out and retrieved Mae's lightsaber, placing it at your side before walking toward the exit of that place, letting the flames consume the green lung of the temple, burning the last roots that still tied you to it, abandoning the memory that had returned to you of your old master.

Qimir lowered his gaze in silence, wiping a lonely tear that wrinkled his face, feeling your pain for you, following you out of that memory with your ex master, sensing that faint flame extinguishing within you.

He nodded before following you outside, using the Force suppression once again to cover both your tracks, especially yours, which had become stronger. More chaotic.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

TAGLIST: @neteyamtanhi @blossomedfloweroflove @muffledgorillaviolence @princessakirika

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes :

I admit that I cried several times during the writing. Especially in the Padawan flashback scene, I felt a lot of emotions inside. I think it’s the chapter that I loved to write most of all. I hope to have also excited you in some way during the reading, I wish that you could feel my writing vividly, as if it were the real story of your experience.

Plus, who do you think is the "Him" that Qimir refers to?

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, tell me what you think. Love you, thank you for the support

-Mel

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

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miso-sopas · 4 months

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Hi so got any ninjago x reader recs? Ever since reading Wisps, it has affected my brain chemistry and now i crave for more ninjago x reader content but im picky when finding fics, so got any recommendations?

Hello there! I had fun sorting out my bookmarks and history so recommending fics might be a thing in the future?

Just to note, I am not sure how to really curate your taste so most of these are what I essentially enjoyed reading and been a fan of so forgive me if some (or all 😭 no hard feelings though) aren't your thing.

Let's see...

Honestly Wisps is the *best* so far in my opinion! I don't know if this is pure coincidental but I am also hunting for some ninjago fics to feel emotions again lmao! And I tried my best in remembering what I've read or interested in so hope these are all ok for you!

+ Second best in my opinion is the 'Infinity Series' by Joos according to their quotev because at ao3 it's orphaned [ao3; quotev book 1 & book 2 ]

Unfortunately, the author has stopped updating this fic but going back at it was really enjoyable like in the Wisps. The summary according to the first installment 'Infinite Serenity';

"[Name] has died and became reincarnated in a childhood TV show of hers. She is raised as the adopted daughter of Sensei Wu, training as the Master of Infinity. Once the plot of the show really gets going, a being resurfaces from her. They claim to have revived her and can help her unlock the memories from her previous life. Now, [Name] must rely on this being to help protect Ninjago, and discovers how her past connects with her present." TW: Suicide, self harm, child abuse, some gore and swearing (please pay attention to the tags)

Please please heed the trigger warning, I don't remember much from the content but I definitely recall the author tackling those tags in a respectful way. The love interests are Kai, Nya, Jay, Cole, Morro and platonic with Master Wu and her cousin Lloyd Garmadon. Again, second best recommended fic in my opinion.

+ Next one, this is not one series but user Circus4APsycho8 (they have ao3 and tumblr) in my opinion have the best x reader one-shots from the fandom! My all-time favorite work of theirs is 'Secret Someone' [Highschool AU! Lloyd Garmadon x reader]- this one is really sweet ❣️

Here's these links for their ao3 works and their tumblr ninjago masterlist. All simple yet sweet, I love their writing style.

+ The next one is purely Lloyd Garmadon x Female Reader titled 'Butterfly Effect' by samsea at ao3. I think they're still updating and I am a big fan of hero x civilian pairings and just they're cute and in love.

Summary: "If it was up to Y/n L/n, she would read the summer away, lost in history books and adventure novels, finding excitement in their written words. Meeting Lloyd Garmadon changed her plans. Suddenly, Y/n is living a life she'd only read about; summer romances and cotton candy dates. Perhaps this was a new normal she could get used to. But she's been fated - prophesied - to be with the Green Ninja. And where there's a green ninja, trouble usually follows." Warnings: "The butterfly effect has mature themes such as gore, violence, toxic friendships, sexual themes (no smut) and cussing. the butterfly effect is not intended for younger viewers. Trigger warnings will be placed on chapters as they are needed. if you have any questions or issues please contact me."

Again, heed the warnings but the writing and atmosphere overall is really sweet and for some reason all cuddly and sunny. IDK but maybe I am always soft for Lloyd lmao.

+ If you're up to reading only x reader head cannons then I recommend user mouschiwrites here in tumblr. Their requests are closed now but the head cannons they made are cute and entertaining, like I can definitely see this character doing that y'know. Here's their ninjago masterlist

+ Here's some honorable mentions, I believe they deserve some love too!

In the Shadow (Various love interests) by RoseRain at Quotev

Legend of the Lightspirit (Various love interests) by softie at Quotev

Actually, while finishing my school projects I'm also checking out from another user snazzilystoopid's ninjago recommendation. So far, I am enjoying their second recommended which is 'Element of Wishes' by yourfavoritecloud at quotev BUT this one is an Character x OC one so if it's not up to your alley they have few recommendations. Honestly, I am up to anything as long as it entertained my monkey brain.

Sorry for the long post! Hope these works are okay for your taste but the closest fic that gives off the same vibes as Wisps is the Infinite series. And these are all by my own opinions and the fics I remembered catching my eye. I am very much open to other recommendations or shout-outs.

Side note, there's not much Ninjago fics out there that I might let my monkey brain loose and create one myself LOOOL.

Again, thank you for asking ( I feel honored for being asked by this, I'm a fanfic nerd 🤓)

#anon ask #ask me anything #inbox open #answering asks #recommending fanfics #ninjago fanfics #ninjago x reader

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us3rnam3-r3dact3d · 2 months

Text

i assume you'll be coming for blood (that makes two of us)

Chapter 2

Ao3 | 3.5k words | Sweetheart's POV

Things go from bad to worse, and all of it's Sweetheart's own doing. - Fooliverse Sweetheart faces off with that first shade. They already know Milo, but things are a lot more complicated than they might have been, not least because of their own stubbornness and pride. Hopefully that pride won't get them killed. Hopefully.

TW: violence, mentions of sex, the Department, illness, arguments, general toxicity

Jet had a handful of not so kind words for you when you finally showed up to work the next day, first for being late and then for not seeking medical attention the night before.

“If you are unable to handle a single threat independently,” Jet had seethed, emailing medical about your impending visit as he spoke, “then you might consider a change in title.”

You didn’t say a thing in protest. You ignored the orders to report to medical, and instead made your way back to your desk in the bullpen, pulling up the open case file on your shitty, ancient desktop computer. You added new notes to the shade’s file, new findings on its abilities and appearance, and drafted an email to a magical expert on Death. Unfortunately, that expert lived in Tanzania, so you would have to find someone who could translate your message to Swahili, and his back to English for any of it to matter.

You missed lunch entirely, too focused on the work in front of you to glance down at the desktop clock or the silver watch your father had given you last Christmas that you wore invariably. You only recognized that it was nearing one in the afternoon when a hand tapped your desk, drawing your attention away from your investigation for the first time in hours.

Dr. Collins was an intimidating man. You weren’t afraid of him, per say, but you certainly didn’t want to end up on the bad side of his death glare. When you looked up, recognizing his Department emblazoned white coat and the irritated crinkle in his brow, you shifted your gaze from his silver eyes to the bridge of his alkaline nose.

“Investigator,” Collins’ drawl clipped his words particularly aggressively, “care to tell me why I received a memo that you were reporting to my office hours ago only to find you at your desk, looking like you just got dragged back from Hell?”

Doctor Sam Collins was one of the rare vampires employed by the Department’s medical division. He oversaw the onsite infirmary, headed the magical/medical research in the Department’s underground labs, and liaised with D.A.M.N. concerning their healing courses. The only reason he was afforded those positions, of course, was because of his incredible power pre-turning.

I was a wolf, Milo had said. You wondered if Collins had that same sort of grief in his voice when talking about his power.

“Probably because I was, Doc.” You shrugged, stretching your back for the first time in hours. A series of loud, obtrusive cracks echoed out through the nearly empty room. When had everybody else left? You checked your watch. Lunch. Right.

“I told you you’d find them here.” An indignant huff from behind you. You whipped your head around, your neck popping audibly at the sudden movement. Cam was standing at the entrance of the bullpen, his hands on his hips. You’d never seen him look annoyed before. His face was usually blank and serene.

“You were right.” Collins shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re lucky your friend has a good read on you, Investigator. I was fixing to sick your supervisor after you. And I’ve worked with Jet long enough to know how unpleasant that would be.”

You groaned, your head falling back to rest against your stiff office chair. God, your head was pounding. Your throat felt like something had clawed its way out of it. Your stomach was still uneasy. Your muscles ached.

“You look terrible.” Cam said, suddenly much closer to you. You jerked at his nearness, nearly toppling out of your chair. The Doctor’s unnatural reflexes saved you. All of the annoyance leaked from him at once as he knelt to begin examining you. His hands were cold when they rested on your forehead, tilted your face this way and that. You wondered if it was a result of his vampiric condition, or if it was because he was a doctor.

“Double whammy.” You muttered, your eyes slipping closed.

“You’re delirious.” Collins replied. Healing magic sparked around you, warm and bright like sunshine. You let it wash over your skin, not fighting against Collins’ assessment or Cam’s gentle, soothing touch.

“Are you making me calmer?” You asked Cam, more accusatory than anything. He huffed, offended.

“I wouldn’t without asking.” Cam assured you. “I think... you’re just too tired to fight back.”

“Something got its hooks in you.” The Doctor added. Cool hands hovered over the skin of your neck. “I’m gonna touch, just for a second. Let’s take care of these bruises.”

“Bruises?” You croaked, just as Collins’ hands slid around your neck. His magic swelled around you, and you swung out, pushed at his shoulders to try and get him away. Your heart began to race, your body suddenly awake and alert. You stood, pushing your chair away and stumbling back from Collins and Cam.

“Easy!” The doctor said, his hands extended in front of him like he was surrendering. Cam had a strange, sad look to him. Pity. Your stomach turned.

“I’m sick.” You snapped, shaking your hands out at your sides. You were suddenly filled with anxious energy. “The flu.”

Cam said your name, so soft and cloying. You knew that tone. He was talking down to you, treating you like you couldn’t handle this. You could handle this.

“I should go home.” You said. “Since I have the flu.” Doctor Collins squinted at you. Those silver eyes nearly pulled you in. Your hand twitched to your phone. You should call Milo.

“Let someone take you.” He ordered. “I’d do it myself if the damn sun wasn’t still up. You’re lucky you work on this side of the building, or I wouldn’t have been able to come up and see you in person.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his body sagging a bit. He looked exhausted all of a sudden. What a waste, you thought. He can’t help me.

“I’ll be fine.” You said, shaking your head. “I’ll get an Uber or something.”

“Please wait,” Cam said, stepping forward, a hand outstretched towards you, “let me take you home.”

“It’s fine, Cam,” you sighed, “you’ve gotta get back to work.”

It was raining by the time you stepped outside, and the late-summer, early-fall chill left you shivering and soaked. You hadn’t bothered with a jacket when you came stumbling into work, and you hadn’t bothered to snag the umbrella you kept in your desk’s bottom drawer for days just like this. Summer in Dahlia meant sudden rainstorms and that damp sort of air that hurt to breathe.

Well, breathing hurt in general, at that moment. You stalked down the sidewalk, soaked through, and tried to decide where you were going.

Home was in the opposite direction, but you refused to turn back and be seen as wandering from the Department’s windows. You kept moving, calling up your known paths through the city, trying to remember where you could double back.

A car pulled up beside you, low to the ground, shining, and blood red. You ignored it, crossed your arms over your chest, and kept moving. You had learned by this point in your life not to give catcallers the time of day.

“Hey Sweetness,” the voice of this particular catcaller got your attention. You stopped short, turned. Milo’s car halted its crawl. The sedan behind him honked impatiently, but Milo paid them no mind. “Whatcha doing out here in the rain? Not that I’m complaining about the wet shirt part.”

“Asshole.” You whispered, but you opened the passenger door and deposited yourself inside, dripping all over his leather interior.

“Woah,” Milo said, his voice suddenly concerned, “you weren’t kidding about the flu. You look like shit.”

“Gee,” you rolled your eyes, “you flirt. You sure know how to make someone blush.”

“Hey,” Milo put his car into drive and peeled off of the curb, merging dangerously fast with traffic. He swerved skillfully between cars going too slow for his liking. Your stomach lurched. “I’m expressing concern over here.”

“I don’t need concern.” You hissed. “If everybody would stop pitying me it would make my fucking day.”

Milo’s mouth snapped shut. His anger was palpable. Good. You preferred anger to whatever else he was cooking up. Anger you could deal with. Anger was familiar.

“I’m taking you to my place.” Milo said after a long silence. “I’ll… make you soup. Or something.”

You sighed, resting your head back against the seat. Your head pounded. You didn’t fight sleep when it pressed against the back of your eyes.

When you woke, you realized that Milo must have carried you inside. You were in the center of his sinfully soft, sinfully giant bed, tucked into his billion thread-count sheets. You sat up and groaned as your migraine made its presence known. You couldn’t have at least slept that off. That would make your life a fraction easier, and that wasn’t allowed.

When you got your legs under you, shaky knees and all, you found yourself clad in an oversized tee and boxer shorts. They smelled like Milo, even if you couldn’t imagine him wearing something so casual and you knew he didn’t frequent underwear at all. Or maybe he just went commando when he knew he might get lucky. Either way, he’d gone through the trouble of pulling these out for you, undressing you, re-dressing you, tucking you lovingly in bed. The sentimentality of it all made your stomach flip.

You could smell something cooking and followed your nose down the stairs and through the twisting halls of Milo’s giant house. Said giant house included a kitchen that gave you a stab of jealousy when you first saw it. Milo wasn’t using it, not for much, anyway. He had an extensive bar cart in one corner, his giant, state of the art fridge was stocked entirely with blood, and his walk-in pantry had one corner filled with sugar snacks. He seemed to only keep food for his fuck buddies. You shivered at the idea of anybody else utilizing those. You would have to start keeping track of them, just to be sure.

Milo was standing over the stove, a brand new wooden spoon in one hand, his phone pressed to his ear in the other.

“Davey,” he hissed, “I’m not asking for a lecture. I’m asking how to make it just a little more palatable.” You could hear a deep voice rumble on the other side, but couldn’t make out any words. “Jesus Christ, I should have never called you! I’m not gonna make a fucking bone broth when Cambles so helpfully provides soup in nice little cans.” His eyes flicked to you, whether it was your heartbeat or your snickering that gave you away. He extended one finger to you, as if to say I’ll deal with you in a minute. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, you pretentious asshole.” He hung up.

“House member?” You asked, crossing to the large island that filled up the middle of the spacious kitchen. There were plastic bags from some pharmacy or another littered around it. You poked around, nosey as ever. Generic painkillers. Three cans of chicken noodle soup. A dozen Gatorades of different flavors. A smattering of cold and flu medicines. Cough drops. He must have grabbed anything he thought might help. Cute.

“Old friend.” He corrected, turning back to the little pot on the stove in front of him. “Davey doesn’t believe canned soup is a valid form of food. I thought he might have a few ideas on how to improve it. Turns out all he was interested in was telling me off for even buying it.”

“I can eat canned soup.” You shrugged. “It’s all the same stuff.”

“Exactly.” Milo huffed. He turned off his burner and started to pour the soup from the pot into one of his sleek, black ceramic bowls. Even his dishware looked expensive. “You get it.”

He walked the bowl over to you, handed you a spoon, and directed you to one of the stools pushed up under the island. You sat down heavily, snagged a green Gatorade, and downed the soup like a starving man.

“There’s more.” Milo said, sitting next to you. “And some stuff in the pantry. I just grabbed a buncha’ shit. Don’t know what you like.”

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You shook your head. Milo refilled your bowl before you could blink. You didn’t protest.

“Well, you looked like you needed it.” He shrugged. He was trying to act casual, but you could feel him observing you, taking in every detail, like he was waiting for you to keel over.

Funnily enough, once you scraped your bowl and went to stand, your knees buckled. He caught you, of course. He bundled you into his chest, your cheek pressed against the exposed skin of his peck. Stupid, silken shirt unbuttoned to his navel. Stupid pretty silver necklaces, cold without any body heat of his own. Stupid little shake in his chest as he steadied you.

“Easy, Sweets.” He said. “Just- will you take it easy? Let me help you.” He was exasperated. Frustrated.

You pushed back, stumbling away from him.

“I don’t-“ you shook your head, pressed your hands into the kitchen island and braced yourself. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Milo spat. “You look like death warmed over. I can help! Let me help!”

“I don’t need your help!” You shouted. Your voice rose out of you, anger and stubbornness filling you with newfound energy. “I can handle this! I don’t care what bullshit they put me through, I can handle it!”

Milo was quiet. He held your gaze. You held his. Your brain screamed to look away, but you couldn’t. He hadn’t even tranced you, but you were trapped.

“Did-“ he pursed his lips. “What did D.U.M.P. get you into?”

He read you like a book. You gave too much away.

“Where are my clothes?” You asked instead of answering him. He huffed, his hands falling to his hips. His stupid, pretty hands. His stupid, muscly hips. You didn’t know if you wanted to hit him or kiss him.

“No.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“What do you mean ‘no?’”

“I mean I’m not gonna let you go back into whatever the fuck you’re dealing with alone.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he extended that finger again. You didn’t care for that one fucking bit. “And I know you could handle it, Sweetness, you are a force of fucking nature. But you’re not being given the resources you need, and it’s clearly affecting you. So tell me what you need and I will give it to you, Sweetheart!”

“What I need,” you spat, “is for you to stop calling me that!”

“What?”

“Sweetheart.” You poorly imitated his accent. He huffed out a short laugh. “Sweetness. All those stupid, cute nicknames.”

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” He crossed his arms over his chest. His face smoothed over into a smile, but you could see the tension in his body. He was giving you an out, a way to step away from the argument before you said something you would regret.

Fuck him. You would say what you wanted to say.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” You growled. “And I’m not your mate.”

It was a calculated killing blow. You knew as it left your tongue that it would hurt, that it would cut him to the bone. The two of you had fucked a handful of times, talked even less, but he, for some goddam reason, had shown you the parts of him that still bled. You hadn’t wanted to use them against him, but you had no choice. Your own weaknesses were so obvious, so clear to the eye, and anybody could use them against you. He was luring you in with all coddling and sweet talking. He didn’t care about you. You wouldn’t let him back you into a corner when you knew how to get away.

Milo’s face went slack, his whole body rearing back from that word. Your gut twisted with something like guilt. You wouldn’t have that. You twisted your fingers into the collar of his oversized shirt and held on for dear life. This was survival, simple as that. Nothing personal. That was something that Milo of all people would understand.

“Out.” He hissed finally, breaking the silence that had overtaken the kitchen. Milo’s eyes were dark, darker than they usually were. His pupils had blown to encompass his silver irises. His face went horrific in a split second. Your body reminded you that you were facing down a monster.

He moved very suddenly, disrupting the air in the room. Your breath caught as his hands landed on you. Your clothes were pulled off before you could protest. Your heart seized in your chest, but as that word pressed at the back of your teeth, you were redressed in the blink of an eye. Your work clothes, still warm from the dryer, were buttoned and tucked before the cool air of Milo’s kitchen could touch your skin. Your shoes were on your feet. Milo’s hands landed on your shoulders and he began to steer you towards the door. Even this angry, his touch was gentle, feather light, like he was afraid to hurt you.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you that much more angry.

You were out the door, unsure if you’d even managed a single independent step. Milo’s touch left you immediately. Your phone, keys, wallet were in your hands. You spun around and saw your shitty sedan parked next to one of Milo’s six priceless sports cars in the driveway. He must have picked it up while you were sleeping. Your stomach flipped.

You turned back around. Milo was hovering in the doorway, shadows cast across his face from the low light of his house. His eyes were glazed over entirely black now. His fangs were extended, pressing into his pretty, full lips.

“I shared that with you,” Milo said, his voice tinged with something animalistic, something wild, “as a show of trust. I told that to you because I know that I have a lot of power. I told you something that I knew could hurt me, because I know it’s not easy to do that.” His face twisted up. You were terrified, for a moment, that he would cry. “Fuck you. Fuck you for using that to hurt me.”

“You could hurt me without even trying!” You seethed. You wrapped your arms around your middle, trying to hold yourself up.

“Yeah.” Milo nodded. “I could. But I didn’t.”

The door shut in your face. You stared at the stained mahogany like it might have answers for you. You screamed until your chest gave way to stuttered, panicked gasps. You got in your car and drove away.

Your desk was waiting for you when you made it back to the office. Jet’s office was darkened, and only a handful of other investigators remained at their desks. It was late evening, bordering on much too late to be here. You sat down anyway and started working.

By the time morning came round, you had far more information than you did at the start of the day before. For one, you had a rudimentary understanding of Swahili, and had managed to properly convey what you needed from your expert using a few online dictionaries and whatever Google Translate had to offer. He was a pleasant guy, if your translations were correct, and had affirmed that he would send a statement your way within the next few days with everything he knew about shades broken down into simple enough terms for the Department to work with.

Your back ached and your stomach was still in knots, but you felt much better than you had the day before. Whatever affects the shade’s life-sucking-bullshit left its victims with wore off with time and rest. You added it to your notes, and sent a quick email to Collins to report your improved health. The sun had started to rise when you received a message back.

Report to medical for field clearance. Don’t make me sick Jet on you.

You sighed, scrubbing at your tired eyes. You knew it was pointless to resist. Collins would get you down there eventually, one way or another. It looked better for you if you went voluntarily.

There was a whole floor to the medical department. Half of it was dedicated only to Dr. Collins’ medical research and the seminars he taught for D.A.M.N.. The other half made up the Department’s extensive infirmary. Staffed by Dr. Collins’ loyal group of doctors and nurses. They were a vicious bunch, too smart for anybody’s good, and skilled beyond all reason in both mundane and magical healing. Collins expected nothing but exceptional skill from his staff, and he wouldn’t settle for anything less.

#redacted asmr #my redacted content #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redacted milo rebane #milo rebane #milo greer #redacted fooliverse #milo fooliverse #fooliverse milo greer #mention of david

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

Text

keep singing this lie (2) | kth + jjk

Black Swan, an up-and-coming alternative metal rock band, is going on their first official tour. Jungkook looks forward to proving himself in a cutthroat industry; Taehyung looks forward to the groupies. Neither of them expects to find the comfort their hearts truly desire in one another.

↳ pairing: drummer!taehyung x singer!jungkook

↳ wc/date: 7.5k | may 2023

↳ notes: i hope you enjoy tonight's episode of Taehyung Does Mental Gymnastics To Deny That He's Experiencing Bisexual Panic. i didn't thoroughly edit this so if you see anything that doesn't make sense, no you didn't

↳ main masterlist / series masterlist

↳ what was jai listening to? the series playlist

✨ complete this form to be added to the taglist ✨

On their second travel day, Seokjin announces that he has a surprise for the band. Rather inconveniently, he does so while half the band is asleep.

Jimin is curled up on the elevated cot bed in the back of the van, his lips puckered into the beak Jungkook loves to tease him over. The music Taehyung is playing is loud enough to drown out any sound Jimin might be making, but Taehyung is sure his bandmate is lightly snoring.

To his right, Jungkook is slumped in his seat. Yet, even in such an uncomfortable position, the man’s face is smooth and serene as he slumbers.

Taehyung fights the urge to run his knuckles along the curve of his cheekbone and tries not to think about why he wanted to do it in the first place.

“What’s the surprise?”

He peers at Seokjin through the rearview mirror. He has one hand gripping the steering wheel, and the other is hanging out of the open window. The wind fluffs up his hair, and the midday heat feels good on his tan skin.

“It’s a surprise. How could I tell you?” Seokjin rests on his stomach beside the still-sleeping Jimin on the cot.

“With your words.”

The eldest lets out a snort. “Smartass.”

“Hyungggg!”

He doesn’t mean for the whine to be so loud that it wakes Jungkook up. With furrowed eyebrows and a mean pout, Jungkook blinks his eyes open enough to squint at the highway blurring past them.

“Tae?” Jungkook turns his head to the side and gives Taehyung an adorably-grumpy face.

“‘M sorry, Koo,” Taehyung apologizes. The look he gives him is soft, the feeling in his chest when he watches Jungkook stretch his arms rivaling the heat from the sun on his skin.

Nothing, however, can rival the brilliance of the smile Jungkook gifts to Taehyung. The younger man opens his mouth to speak, but Seokjin cuts in.

“I have a surprise!” He announces for the second time. The enthusiasm makes Jimin stir, though Taehyung knows it’ll take much longer for Jimin to become fully cognizant of what’s going on.

Like Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook eventually perk up with curiosity, begging Seokjin to reveal the secret.

“It won’t be a surprise if I tell you,” Seokjin points out with a roll of his eyes, but Taehyung catches through the rearview mirror how the corners of Seokjin’s mouth twitch upward.

The van fills with cries for Seokjin to relent as Taehyung turns off the highway to eventually stop at a lone gas station. He always gets a bit nervous stopping in the middle of nowhere, even though they’re all healthy adult men who have their wits about them and can take care of themselves. The protectiveness Taehyung has over the other men is something he can’t shake.

Jimin and Seokjin continue bickering in the back while Taehyung and Jungkook step out of the van.

His feeling of being on edge may make Taehyung overanalyze the way Jungkook fidgets as he stands beside Taehyung. His big eyes flit from the gas pump to the store. At his sides, his fingers twitch, and he clenches his fists before shoving them into his pockets.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he announces suddenly. He doesn’t look at Taehyung and keeps his eyes on the store.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cool, cool.”

Taehyung chews his bottom lip and watches Jungkook disappear into the convenience store. There’s literally nothing weird about Jungkook needing to go to the bathroom after sitting in a van for hours, so why does Taehyung feel like his throat is being squeezed shut?

With a sigh, Taehyung turns towards the gas pump.

It isn’t that he’s not excited; he’s sure whatever their leader has planned will be entertaining for all of them. However, Taehyung isn’t the type to show enthusiasm and appreciation like Jimin and Jungkook. They all know this about him. They understand that banter and elbows to the ribs are his way of expressing affection.

Seokjin is a bit more like him, Taehyung thinks as he slides his credit card into the gas pump. Their leader is the oldest, in his late twenties, and the most mature despite the goofiness Jimin and Jungkook tend to coax out of him.

Jimin and Jungkook, though… They’re soft. Sure, Jimin is the same age as him, and Jungkook is a few years younger — turning twenty-three this year. But, even though he’s not much older, Taehyung worries about the two of them. In their industry, soft men get eaten alive.

Sometimes, Taehyung feels like talent can only get you so far.

Shaking his head, Taehyung selects the cheapest gas option and lets his eyes wander the station while he waits for the tank to fill up.

There’s a Spine Breaker Festival flyer taped to the gas pump. The headliners’ names are big and bold, but Taehyung’s eyes skip down about midway to find “Black Swan” listed among the other smaller bands. He knows where to look to find their name; he has a stack of the same flyer on his coffee table at home. There’s no telling how often his eyes skimmed the glossy print, rereading the band’s name repeatedly. It’s different to see one out in public, though, hundreds of miles from his apartment. The ones at home are as crisp as when they were first printed. This one is sunbleached, and the corners are curling from the wind’s violent attempts to rip it down.

Taehyung leans his butt on the van and crosses his arms against his chest. He wonders who put up the sign. It has clearly been there for a long time.

The gas nozzle clicks a few times, and the numbers on the screen still. Gas is cheaper out here, away from the big city. The rest of the guys complain about the farmland and small towns they pass through on their tour route to each city. Taehyung likes the simplicity of it all, though. It reminds him of his childhood. If he sifts through the memories of vicious insults and bruised skin, he can remember tumbling down grassy hills and going strawberry picking with a certain boy with puffy cheeks and crescent eyes.

The same boy throws himself onto Taehyung’s back, his arms wrapping around his neck so tightly that he starts to choke.

“Ji-”

Taehyung gasps when his friend’s hold tightens. He tries to pull Jimin’s forearm away from his throat, but the smaller man leans further into him, nearly forcing Taehyung wholly bent over.

“TaeTae, tell Seokjinnie hyung that I deserve a snack for driving so much today.”

Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cat hissing. He’s got half his body hanging out of the side of the van while he searches for something in the back.

“Good God, Jimin, you’re choking the man to death.”

Jimin releases Taehyung to pull the gas nozzle from the van and return it to the pump. The receipt nearly blows away before Jimin’s fingers snatch it up. Seokjin should be grateful that Jimin finished pumping gas; Taehyung typically forgets receipts. Seokjin would have skinned him alive for fucking up the detailed expense reports the older man has planned. As the band leader, Seokjin acts as their manager and accountant, in addition to being the bassist. Missing receipts are justification for execution.

“What kinda snack do you want?” Taehyung twists around to protect himself from a potential second attack. There aren’t any cars at the other gas pumps and no people to see him, but Taehyung feels tense regardless.

“Chocolate, please,” Jimin says while fluttering his eyelashes. As if he actually needs to charm Taehyung into doing anything for him. Not to be dramatic, but Taehyung would die for all three of them. No hesitation. “And can you get Jungkookie? He’s been in there way too long.”

“Probably spending our entire budget on energy drinks. Those things are gonna make his heart give out one of these days…” Seokjin grumbles.

Surprisingly, Jungkook isn’t perusing the gas station’s energy drink offerings. Instead, Taehyung finds him with the cashier, pointing at the disposable vapes behind the counter.

Snatching a few chocolate bars from a shelf, Taehyung stands beside Jungkook at the counter.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook nearly drops the pink device grasped in his tattooed hand. “Shit, hyung, where did you come from?”

“I thought you stopped vaping?”

Jungkook presses his tongue into the inside of his cheek. Taehyung doesn’t know why he wants to push him. He knows he should back off, but he can’t.

“I’m an adult, hyung. I can do what I want.”

“But you said—”

“You said you’d stop drinking so much, didn’t you?” The look in Jungkook’s eyes is deadly. His expression is sharp and unrelenting, different from his usual soft, starry eyes.

Taehyung did say that. He had to. It got real bad, that time, not quite a year ago. Honestly, he can barely remember anything from that night — except for how Jungkook looked with tears streaking his face and both fists twisted into the front of Taehyung’s shirt to hold him up in the bathroom of their hotel room. Taehyung can’t even remember which city they were in.

Jungkook hadn’t given him any details the following day, and Taehyung had refused to ask.

He’s not sure if Jungkook expects a response. Quite frankly, Taehyung doesn’t have one for him. So he swallows the lump in his throat and watches Jungkook pluck the chocolate bars from his hands. He buys them, along with two strawberry-flavored vapes.

Jungkook is tired, Taehyung tells himself as he follows the younger man to the van. They’re all tired. It’s fine.

Jungkook stuffs the vapes in his pockets before their bandmates can see and hands over the snacks to Jimin.

“Jungkookie!” Jimin squeals with the chocolate bars pressed against his chest as he clambers back onto the cot. “Thank youuuu.”

With a small smile, Jungkook slips into the passenger seat even though it’s his turn to lie down in the back with Taehyung.

Seokjin leans across Jungkook to call out from the van, “Taehyung? You coming?”

“Mhm.”

Jungkook refuses to meet Taehyung’s gaze as Taehyung climbs into the back of the van and perches on the edge of the cot beside Jimin. He leans back to rest his shoulders against the wall of the van.

He feels sick.

It’s fine.

“Taehyungie?”

Jimin crawls over to kneel on the cot beside him. Concern is hastily scribbled across his face, but Taehyung doesn’t know what he’s doing to make Jimin look like that. All he can do is stare at his best friend with as blank a face as he can muster because it’s too difficult to figure out what’s wrong.

“Jimin-ah…” Despite two days of travel, Taehyung’s throat is still sore, and his voice comes out raspier than usual. Suddenly, he feels so unbelievably exhausted.

His friend gives him a look, his expression softening as he lingers on Taehyung’s face. Then, with a small sigh, he opens his arms. “C’mere, baby.”

Jimin molds against his side with his arms wrapped around his waist and his legs thrown over Taehyung's. There’s no one here to judge him for cuddling with his best friend. No one to question or degrade his masculinity, his self-worth. Nothing to feel embarrassed about in front of others. No way to give the wrong impression if the only people here are those who understand him — better than Taehyung understands himself, he’s starting to realize.

Taehyung turns his head to the side to rub his cheek against Jimin’s messy blonde hair. The back of the van is shaded, and Jimin’s body is warm. He finds himself falling asleep rather quickly.

When Taehyung wakes up, he doesn’t remember what he thought he should say.

By now, dusk is approaching. The sky is a delicious swirl of creamsicle-orange and cotton candy-pink, acting as a backdrop for wispy white clouds smeared across the atmosphere. Taehyung peers at it through the window, only realizing he’s alone in the van when he spots his bandmates standing outside.

Ducking out of the van, Taehyung stretches his arms and blinks a few times to help his eyes adjust to the light. It is then that the scenery clicks inside his head.

“Surprise,” Seokjin murmurs against Taehyung’s ear. He digs his fingers into both of his shoulders, massaging away the tension Taehyung carries in the muscles there. “Hope you like it.”

For as far as Taehyung can see, there are sunflowers. Giant, stocky sunflowers stand taller than he does and gently sway in the light breeze that ruffles Taehyung’s wavy hair. Their yellow and gold faces are open and twisted toward the sun.

Turning from side to side, Taehyung sees that the sea of sunflowers travels down the length of the highway, where the van is parked off to the side.

“A sunflower farm?”

Seokjin flashes his younger friend a grin.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jimin practically buzzes beside Taehyung. He wiggles his lithe body as he retrieves his phone from his back pocket. “It reminds me of Daegu, Taehyungie!”

Taehyung sees Seokjin’s eyebrows raise, likely in confusion, but Jimin is already bounding toward the entrance of what appears to be a small trail that travels through the field of flowers. He doesn’t have the energy to explain what Jimin means; the memories of his hometown and country make his stomach twist into something grotesque enough that Taehyung prefers to avoid it.

So instead, he pulls out his phone, too, though he doesn’t follow Jimin toward the trail.

“It’s so pretty! Oh my god, we have to make a TikTok!”

Seokjin grins as Jimin sprints back, only to snatch his hand with a squeal and drag him toward the trail.

As the band’s social media guru, Jimin takes his responsibility of curating flawless content for their various social media platforms very seriously. It’s a blessing, considering the other three bandmates are shit at using their socials.

Lifting his phone, Taehyung captures a few photos of the flowers. The photos don’t do the farm justice, but taking a photo is less about creating something pretty and more about preserving the way Taehyung feels. Everyone knows you shouldn’t take pictures facing the sun, but Taehyung likes the warmth it captures. The same feeling bubbles up in his chest as he watches Jimin and Seokjin disappear into the flowers and listens to their laughter echo through the otherwise silent evening.

Moments like these make Taehyung feel like he’s someone other than himself, maybe a main character in a movie about self-discovery and adventure. It’s poetic and pretty and gentle — everything Taehyung isn’t.

The scrawny poor kid from the outskirts of Daegu, who barely knew any English when he followed Jimin to the United States, that kid would have never imagined that he’d one day stare into a field of sunflowers and feel like something important is happening to him. Like this moment means something. Like he needs to squeeze it in his fists and hold it against his chest for fear of letting it slip away.

It makes him feel nostalgic for some reason.

“The view is better from up here.”

Taehyung spins around and lifts his head to see Jungkook’s face peek out from the van's roof. The younger man nods upward, indicating that Taehyung should come up, too.

It feels like progress when Jungkook scoots out of the way to give Taehyung room to haul himself onto the roof. They sit with their legs crossed like pretzels and stare into the swaying sea of yellow and green. Silence doesn’t feel so scary when the sky is darkening, and nature’s soft lullaby calms the racing of Taehyung’s heart. He can almost ignore the unexplainable ache in his chest when Jungkook still doesn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry.”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side. “For?”

“Hyung.” Jungkook shoots Taehyung a glare. “You know.”

He does know. Part of him wants to hear Jungkook say it, though. Another part of him wants to pretend it never even happened.

“You’re good,” is what he chooses to say instead of the million other terrible things that he could.

“I’m sorry I keep having to say sorry.”

When Jungkook speaks, a stream of pale smoke rushes out of his nostrils. Taehyung hadn’t noticed the light pink vape clutched in his hand.

Taehyung knows it’s not the worst vice in the world. It’s Jungkook’s only vice, in reality. The boy doesn’t drink much or do drugs aside from smoking the occasional blunt when Taehyung feels like sharing his weed. Taehyung is pretty sure in the years he’s known Jungkook, he has never had a casual hookup — or even a serious relationship, for that matter.

So what does a little nicotine hurt?

A lot, in Taehyung’s opinion, especially the singer’s voice.

But Jungkook is right; Taehyung doesn’t have the right to judge him. If he really cared, he wouldn’t even smoke weed with the younger man. Taehyung refuses to even address his own… shotty relationship with alcohol, as Jungkook loves to point out. In the end, Taehyung is a giant fucking hypocrite. So what is his problem? Why does he give a shit about something so insignificant?

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Jungkook asks, changing the subject before Taehyung can say anything else.

It’s a welcomed change, however. Taehyung leans back on his hands as he stares out at the sunflower farm. The van's roof is warm against his skin, but not uncomfortably so.

“I got a feeling this one’s gonna be real fucking hyped. The venue sold out. Did Jinnie hyung tell you?”

Jungkook nods, and when their gazes meet, Taehyung can see the golden sunset reflecting in his eyes.

“Our first sold-out show that’s just us, no big headliner,” he says with a wispy look that makes Taehyung’s heart constrict.

It doesn’t matter that the venue is small compared to the venues the guys dream of performing at one day. Taehyung wants to tell Jungkook that it’s all him. Sure, the rest of them fortify the band, but ultimately, Jungkook is the glue holding them together. Without Jungkook, there would be no Black Swan.

Without Black Swan, he isn’t sure if there would be a Taehyung, and there certainly wouldn’t be a V.

“Gonna wear your lucky underwear?”

Jungkook inhales sharply, loud enough for Taehyung to hear the air get caught in his throat. Then, the younger man lands a nearly fatal blow to Taehyung’s arm. Two lighter taps and the skin on his arm blooms bright pink.

“Shut the fuck up, hyung!” Jungkook complains. “I don’t have lucky underwear.”

“Maybe not anymore,” Taehyung points out with a wicked grin. Another slap has Taehyung scooting away from further danger.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Taehyung sticks his tongue out. “You love me.”

His eyes are squeezed shut once his expression morphs into a pout, so he misses how Jungkook’s face softens when he says, “You’re right, I do.”

“Please fuck me, please. Or at least let me suck your cock.”

The words send a shiver down Taehyung’s spine. Lips brush over his earlobe, and he feels the tip of a tongue flick his hoop piercing. When a hand cups his growing erection through his jeans, he automatically bucks his hips into the pressure.

“Can’t, shit, can’t bring you back,” Taehyung groans, but the girl doesn’t let up. Instead, she pops open the button on Taehyung’s jeans and swiftly unzips them. It’s a relief not to have so much pressure on his dick anymore, but they’re headed down a path Taehyung needs to avoid.

“Just let me suck it?” The girl whines.

Should he let her suck his dick?

Taehyung contemplates it while her hand slips beneath his briefs. Handjobs aren’t his favorite thing in the world, especially a rough, dry one like this, but he’s drunk enough that it feels better than it would if he was sober. They’re not in the most glamorous location, not that Taehyung is picky about where he gets his blowjobs. The alley behind the nightclub where their afterparty is being held isn’t as creepy or dirty as it could be.

But Taehyung is so fucking tired. His arms feel like jelly from their nearly two-hour-long performance. It doesn’t help that he has had very little water, going straight for hard liquor once they arrived at the nightclub.

He’s sure he smells like a gross mixture of sweat and alcohol, but the girl is running her tongue up the length of his throat as though he tastes like candy.

Eh, maybe a back alleyway blowjob wouldn’t be too bad. To be perfectly honest, Taehyung has had a boner for a painfully long time. Performing on stage often gets him riled up, especially if they’re drinking while they’re up there - which they usually are. At least, he and Jimin do. Intoxication, paired with the typical adrenaline and masculine aggression that comes with banging away at his drum set while fans scream their names, is enough to make Taehyung’s head foggy with a different kind of energy. It’s pent-up energy he only knows of one way to get rid of.

However, the blowjob decision is made for him when he hears someone call his name.

“Kim Taehyung, what the fuck are you doing?”

With a groan, Taehyung lets his head fall back against the brick wall of the nightclub and closes his eyes. The hand on his dick disappears, as does the warmth of the girl’s body as she takes a step away from him. He listens to Seokjin shoo the girl away and rolls his eyes despite them still being closed when he hears the girl whine and complain about being rejected.

“Put your dick away.”

Taehyung opens his eyes enough to squint at his friend before dropping his gaze down as he makes himself look presentable. Well, as presentable as he can look.

“What do you want?”

Seokjin grabs Taehyung by the bicep and drags him through the backdoor. “Apparently, I’m on babysitting duty tonight, and you haven’t had any water since before the show.”

Taehyung flinches, jerking his arm out of Seokjin’s grasp once they reach the bar. “I don’t gotta be babysat.”

“Yes, you do. Now sit the fuck down.” Seokjin calls the bartender over with a slam of his palm on the counter. “Do not let him order anything but water, got it?”

The bartender gives Seokjin a once-over before likely deciding that any argument isn’t worth it. She gives Seokjin a stiff nod before turning her attention to her less confrontational patrons. The older man knows how to be intimidating when he needs to be. Even if he’s wearing khakis and an acid-wash blue jean jacket.

Still, it’s not intimidating enough for Taehyung to stay put.

The moment Seokjin ventures back into the sea of dancing bodies to locate the rest of Black Swan, Taehyung decides to dip out. If he can’t drink alcohol and he can’t get his dick sucked, there’s no reason for him to be at the afterparty.

Jimin would disagree if he could hear Taehyung’s rather loud thoughts as the man takes an Uber back to their hotel. Jimin would argue that Taehyung could have spent the rest of the night dancing with his bandmates, his supposed best friends. Jimin would tell him that life isn’t all about falling into the bottom of a bottle and getting his dick wet.

Taehyung knows all of this because Jimin has scolded him about it before.

To: THE BOYS

fuck u guys. i'm giing back to the hotel

have fum withiut me

From: ChimChim

Fum 😌

From: Jungkookie

Fum 😌

From: Jinnie Hyung

Fum 😌

To: THE BOYS

FUCK YOU GUYS

He tells himself that he doesn’t give a fuck what the other guys think about him as he stomps his way through the hotel, practically kicking open his hotel room. He grumbles and complains to no one as he dramatically kicks his sneakers into the air and strips off his leather pants and muscle tee, sending them flying. He ends up leaving a trail of dirty clothes from the doorway into the bathroom. All of this is a problem for Sober Taehyung. Drunk Taehyung does not give a shit.

If frustration could be physically manifested, it would be as thick as the steam that fogs up the bathroom as Taehyung tries to burn himself alive in the shower. He’s frustrated enough that he can’t even jack off properly. It’s like the energy buzzing inside him is vibrating so intensely that he can’t force it to congregate in one area. He wants to fucking combust all at once, wants to let it all out with his entire body.

Taehyung had been right, though. The show had been hyped. A packed venue with fans who genuinely knew who they were, who sang along to all their songs, and who kept tabs on Jimin’s intentional hints on Twitter to figure out what nightclub they were going to after.

Taehyung walked away from the show feeling good. More than good. Maybe it was stupid, but he felt powerful having people there for him. For them.

So maybe that’s why he’s so fucking frustrated. Why is it that everyone else gets to have their fun, and Taehyung is restricted?

Freshly showered and clothed in a clean t-shirt and briefs, Taehyung flops onto the queen-sized bed and tries not to glare at the ceiling. He doesn’t even feel drunk anymore; he is just annoyed.

It takes him all but two seconds before he draws his laptop out of his backpack, tossing aside loose receipts and candy wrappers that fall out with it. He’s horny and has the hotel room alone for at least a few more hours judging by how early it was that Seokjin ruined all his fun. So Taehyung might as well fucking take advantage of the rare moment of privacy. That’s why he uses his laptop, rather than his phone, to pull up his favorite porn site. Bigger screen, and better speakers. He’s got the entire bed to himself so he can spread his legs and lean against the headboard with the laptop off to the side.

Is it better than a back alleyway blowjob? No, unless the girl was the type to use teeth. And even then, Taehyung likes a little bit of danger sometimes.

Still, this is better than nothing.

Just as he presses play on the perfect video and starts thumbing at the head of his cock, he hears the unmistakable beep of a keycard opening the hotel room.

“Taehyungie hyun- oh.”

Jungkook stands frozen in the doorway. Only his eyes move, flitting up and down between Taehyung’s hand wrapped around his dick and his shocked expression.

They stay that way, ogling at each other for longer than either is comfortable with.

And then it’s like a flip is switched. Taehyung frantically rips his briefs back up his hips, stuffing his cock rather uncomfortably so it lies flat against his thigh, and springs forward to turn off the porn. At least he’s got his AirPods in.

“I am so sor-”

“Hyung, I-”

Taehyung slowly sits back down on the bed as Jungkook inches forward. His cheeks are flushed pink, likely from drinking, although Taehyung doubts he had that much. He has half of his hair tied up in a ponytail, and the rest hangs just above his shoulders in the shaggy wolfcut Taehyung hopes he keeps forever.

“You go first,” Taehyung says, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

Jungkook presses his knee into the bed and leans forward slightly. “Can I sit?” After a nod of approval from Taehyung, he sits beside him. Both men sit with their backs against the headboard.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Jungkook says after a moment. “It didn’t seem fair that hyung made you leave.”

Taehyung is too endeared to feel like correcting him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry you had to walk in on me beatin’ my meat.”

“Ugh,” Jungkook groans. “Don’t fucking say it like that, hyung, please.”

Jungkook brings his palm down to slap Taehyung. This time, rather than go for his arm, the position they’re sitting in makes it easier for Jungkook to smack the top of Taehyung’s thigh. It stings, but Jungkook has hit him with much more effort in the past. So it isn’t pain that makes Taehyung’s skin feel hot; instead, it’s that Jungkook doesn’t lift his hand.

For a few beats, he keeps it there, palm pressed fully against Taehyung’s bare skin. When he finally pulls away, Taehyung swears he squeezes the muscle just the slightest amount before fully lifting up.

“I’m still sorry,” Taehyung mutters, keeping his gaze on the warm spot on his leg. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jungkook shrug.

“I can just put my headphones in and turn on my side if you want.”

Taehyung practically breaks his neck by quickly whipping his head to the side. “Huh?”

“You know, if you wanted to keep going. I don’t want to ruin your night, but I can’t get in the other room, and I don’t really know where else I could go…”

Nothing about what Jungkook is saying makes any sense. It’s all words going through Taehyung’s ear and not being processed by the time they leave out the other side. A tiny voice inside his head tells him he can simply masturbate in the bathroom, but that voice feels lightyears away.

There’s another shrug from the younger man. “Or I could do it with you.”

Taehyung’s heart manages to claw its way up into his throat. It hurts to swallow, a heavy lump blocking his airway and making breathing difficult.

“You what?”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his lip piercing while he sits in silence for an excruciatingly long time. Probably only two seconds max, but Taehyung feels like he’s clinging to his deathbed the entire time.

“I could do it, too, if it makes you feel better. It’s not weird!” The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth so hurriedly that Taehyung almost can’t parcel them out into neat sentences.

He takes a deep breath and begins again. “Masturbating is normal.”

Taehyung snorts. “What is this? Are you about to give me ‘The Talk’ right now?”

“Shut the fuck up, hyung,” Jungkook whines and Taehyung tries to ignore the flip his stomach does when he hears it. “All I’m saying is that we all get a lot of pent-up energy from the shows, and it’s stupid if we try to act like we don’t.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up as though he didn’t expect Taehyung to agree, but he quickly drops the surprised expression before Taehyung can linger on it for too long.

“Do you want some lube?” It feels all kinds of insane to hold the small bottle out like he’s asking Jungkook if he wants ketchup for his French fries.

When Jungkook does nothing but stare, Taehyung slowly retracts his arm. “It’s just, uh, I like it really… wet… so I thought I’d ask… yeah.”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

Suddenly eager to get this over with, Taehyung hits the space bar on his laptop to resume the video.

“Is this what you normally watch?”

“I mean, I guess?” Taehyung dares to peek at Jungkook out of the corner of his eye.

The younger man leans his back against the headboard. He looks calm, fingers interlaced against his stomach that rises and falls at a steady pace. Of course. This really isn’t that big of a deal.

Taehyung has heard of circle jerks, although he always thought they were just a stupid thing guys joked about but didn’t actually do. Or maybe they did, but it was part of some college fraternity hazing tradition that Taehyung would never subject himself to. Even the idea of a threesome has always weirded him out. What is he supposed to do when the other guy nuts? Watch? No fucking way.

But this isn’t some random guy. It’s Jungkook. A man he has known for years, who he has spent literal months out of the year with on tour, all day, every day. He’s seen Jungkook cry to the point of having snot quite literally bubbling out of his nose. He has squatted in dingy nightclub bathroom stalls while Jungkook heaves into the toilet after one too many drinks.

Boogers and puke are worse than cum, right?

Taehyung runs a hand down his face and tries to breathe.

“Hey, I’m just fucking with you, hyung.” Jungkook elbows him in the arm, and Taehyung realizes he missed something.

“What?”

“I said it’s shit porn. Just listen to this guy; he’s groaning like a dying animal.”

“Sure? It’s not about the guy, though, so…”

Jungkook scrunches his nose. “I guess.”

“Are you gonna keep talking?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but clamps his lips shut.

Taehyung places one AirPod into his ear and gives the other to Jungkook. It almost feels like they’re back in the van, sharing headphones to listen to music together. Except now, instead of listening to guitar riffs, it's high-pitch squeals and breathy moans.

The girl in the video is loud. Taehyung likes them loud, likes the way the screams shoot electricity right to his dick. With his eyes glued to the screen, it’s easy to get hard again (although he hadn’t ever entirely gone soft) as he watches how the girl’s pussy swallows the man’s cock and grips him tight every time he pulls back. She’s on her hands and knees, and it’s a POV video. Taehyung loves hitting it from the back.

The audio is pretty loud, but since it only filters through one ear, Taehyung picks up on a breathy voice that doesn’t belong to either person in the video.

Reaching behind his head, Jungkook rips off his t-shirt in one go, tossing it into a corner of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Hyung,” Jungkook groans. “It will… you know… get everywhere. I don’t want to get it on my shirt.”

Taehyung’s cock visibly kicks up in his briefs, and he prays to the heavy-metal gods that Jungkook doesn’t notice.

“Right.”

Jungkook shimmies the waistband of his sweatpants down to his hips. It’s far enough for Taehyung to see the outline of his cock straining against his briefs. He watches Jungkook’s hand slip inside his briefs, and Taehyung stares again at the screen.

“Right.”

At first, it’s just the rustle of clothes and bedding that Taehyung hears from Jungkook’s side of the bed. He can see Jungkook from the corner of his eye, but he focuses so hard on the screen that he doesn’t see anything else. But then there is the unmistakable sound of skin rubbing against skin that makes Taehyung’s entire body grow hot. Even hotter when the sound of skin turns wet, and Taehyung can’t make his brain shut up when a little sing-song voice announces that curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Taehyung draws his bottom lip into his teeth and internally screams that this is fucking weird. Yet he still slowly tilts his head to catch a glimpse.

Jungkook has a great cock. It’s perfectly straight compared to the slight bend of Taehyung’s. The veins are prominent, but there aren’t so many that it looks gross or intimidating. His skin looks velvety smooth, the slightly darker tip glistening with precum. Just the right girth and length to be proud of, in Taehyung’s opinion.

In short, it looks porn-worthy. The perfect cock for a rockstar.

Taehyung wants to slap himself for thinking so, but it’s true. It comes as no surprise; what isn’t perfect about their maknae?

Taehyung is bigger, though, which makes him want to do something stupid, like puff out his chest like some kind of alpha male. And that knowledge makes him feel more comfortable shoving his briefs down to let his own cock free from its confines.

What the fuck is Taehyung’s brain going on about?

Realizing he’s been staring at his bandmate’s dick, Taehyung quickly shifts his gaze. However, the new view is worse because he meets Jungkook’s eyes and knows that Jungkook saw him watching.

As if seeking to level out the playing field, Taehyung watches as Jungkook’s eyes drop. His gaze is heavy as he watches Taehyung’s fist glide up and down his cock. He should probably stop moving, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes his time, first squeezing the head of his cock and rolling his palm against it as he likes to do.

Jungkook’s tongue pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, and Taehyung’s cock twitches as more precum dribbles out of his slit.

The girl in the video starts to scream. Both men return their eyes to Taehyung’s laptop to see the man start pummeling her. His hand wraps around her throat and squeezes hard enough for her scream to turn into pathetic whimpers. Taehyung feels like he’s getting all the air squeezed out of him, too.

Jungkook comes first.

Taehyung has never wondered what Jungkook sounds like when he comes. Obviously. But if he had ever wondered, he wouldn’t have expected his friend to whimper. The little “ah, ah, ah’s” that Jungkook exhales are so soft that a really sick part of Taehyung would find it cute. He can’t look away as Jungkook arches his back to toss his head against the wall, and cum shoots onto his bare abdomen.

Taehyung gasps, his own orgasm hitting him so suddenly that he can’t react fast enough to lift up his shirt. He lets out a choked-out moan and can’t even be bothered to try to stay quiet because the orgasm rips through his body so violently he can’t open his eyes or regulate his breathing. His entire body goes rigid until his t-shirt is streaked white.

His brain is fuzzy and throbs with each beat of his heart as he collapses against the pillows, his arms thrown out on either side. The veins are popping out of his left arm from the physical exertion. He’s sure Jungkook’s limbs are tired, too.

“Fuck.” Jungkook reaches over with his clean hand to close out of the video.

Taehyung hums in agreement, eyes fluttering closed.

“That was…” Jungkook lets out a shaky breath. “That was good.”

Biting his bottom lip to hold in a grin, Taehyung cracks one eye open to peer at Jungkook. “Even though it was shit porn?”

He forces himself not to watch Jungkook tuck his softening cock back into his underwear — though he does allow himself one or two glimpses. He focuses instead on the twinkle in Jungkook’s big, brown eyes and the way they roll at Taehyung’s stupid teasing.

“Hyung,” Jungkook whines, and Taehyung is too tired to understand the way his stomach flutters. “Not the porn; it really is shit. I meant doing this with you.”

Everything inside of Taehyung feels like it short circuits. He opens his mouth, lets it hang for a few seconds, then closes it again because he’s afraid the sound that will come out will be embarrassing since there’s nothing but white noise buzzing around inside his head.

“With me?” He finally asks with a raspy voice.

“Mhm.” Jungkook uses his pinky finger to brush strands of hair from his eyes.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook admits after a few seconds of silence. He leans his head back and stares off into the room. “It’s hard pretending like I’m not lonely. Y’know?”

Taehyung nods slowly, even though he has no idea what Jungkook is talking about.

Jungkook lets out a long sigh. “I’m not like you… I can’t, just, fuck someone. But hiding to go jack off alone in the bathroom every time I crave intimacy is really pathetic.”

Taehyung’s gaze falls on Jungkook’s lip piercing. He watches the pink tip of his tongue wiggle it back and forth, watches him tongue the hole a few times. It’s hard to concentrate on what Jungkook is saying — even though Taehyung has a feeling this is something important that he really should be listening to — when all he can focus on is the way Jungkook’s bottom lip shines with spit.

After such an intense orgasm, Taehyung’s body is all melted and gooey, but he suddenly shoots up when he feels arousal begin to build in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t have some kind of supernaturally-short refractory period, but he swears he’s already starting to get hard again.

“Hyung?” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together.

Taehyung waves him off as he quickly pulls his underwear up. He can feel his cheeks heating up, but he tells himself it’s the alcohol.

“I get it. The bathroom thing,” Taehyung hurriedly admits, trying to put together a response that doesn’t give away the fact that he had been too focused on Jungkook’s face and not on his words. “I’m here for you, right? Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I got you, you know that. I got you.”

He means it, even if he isn’t sure what Jungkook wants from him exactly. It doesn’t matter. Taehyung would give Jungkook the world; any of the guys, he would.

When he finally meets Jungkook’s gaze again, the younger man wears a bright smirk on his face.

“What?” Taehyung questions with a suspicious glare. He doesn’t like the idea of being made fun of after admitting such sentimental shit. “What do you want?”

“It’s just, cute.” Jungkook giggles. The orange light of the bedside lamp makes his expression glow.

“‘m not cute.”

With a giggle that verges on a snort, Jungkook eases off the bed. “You’re saying these sweet things, and we’ve both got jizz all over us.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Taehyung groans, flopping back against the pillows.

Jungkook’s giggles ring through the room as he scours for his pajamas. Taehyung stares up at the ceiling and listens until the sound is muffled by the closing of the bathroom door. It isn’t until he hears the shower start that Taehyung finally pulls himself out of bed.

Taking off his t-shirt is delicate work to ensure that no cum gets on his face or in his hair as he lifts it over his head. He turns the shirt inside out and balls it up before throwing it on the floor near his overnight bag. They’ll have to find a laundromat soon.

Remaining shirtless, Taehyung flops onto his stomach on the bed. He keeps himself propped up on his elbows so he can scroll through the various social media apps that keep him glued to his phone out of boredom.

He tells himself he’s just killing time while Jungkook showers. Obviously, it makes more sense to go to bed at the same time; that way, Jungkook isn’t disturbing him while he tries to fall asleep. He’s totally not replaying in his mind the image of Jungkook throwing his head back with his lips parted in the neediest, breathiest whimper Taehyhung has ever heard.

Nah, he’s definitely not thinking about it. Nope. Not thinking about how Jungkook’s defined abs had looked painted white, shiny, and sticky. Nope.

He’s definitely not getting hard again. Why would he be? Taehyung isn’t even attracted to men. He’s sure his imagination is just getting away from him because this is something new, something he’s never experienced before. He’s never seen another man in a sexual act in real life before. It’s just new, and his brain is latching onto it because of that. That’s all.

It isn’t until Jungkook returns from his shower that Taehyung puts his phone away to charge. When Jungkook turns around to discard his dirty clothes, Taehyung adjusts his cock in his briefs and scrambles under the covers to hide the semi he’s sporting.

He gives Jungkook an innocent smile when the younger shuffles toward the bed.

“Time for bed?”

Jungkook nods, slipping under the covers as Taehyung turns off the lamp.

The bed creaks while Jungkook gets comfortable. Their arms brush against each other, and Jungkook purposefully — Taehyung thinks — tickles his fingers across his. It makes Taehyung turn onto his side to look at him, even though the darkness makes it difficult to see the details on his face.

Jungkook lets out a long breath. “It’s not weird, right?”

“Hmm?”

“What we just did. It’s not weird because we’re friends.”

“Ah.” Taehyung lets silence overpower them for a few seconds. “I don’t think it’s weird,” he eventually mumbles his way through the lie that he’s not sure he believes himself. But, fuck, does he want to. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, though it’s more of a sigh than a real response. “We do everything together anyway.”

“We do.”

For the second time in three days, Taehyung falls asleep to the image of Jungkook’s pink lips. This time, the image is accompanied by sweet whimpers echoing in his ears.

series masterlist

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#taekook au #taehyung x jungkook #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #keep singing this lie

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