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ja3yun · 1 month

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The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch. He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it.

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them.

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations.

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you.

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls.

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona.

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy.

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers.

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it.

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt.

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him.

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly, "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight.

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them.

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience.

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck.

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain.

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness.

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand, "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings.

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue.

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section.

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat.

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?”

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch.

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you.

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured.

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more.

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit, you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips.

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you.

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

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#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #jay x reader #aj writes #park jongseong smut #the doll house #enhypen fic

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luvyeni · 11 days

Text

THE DEMON IN MY CLOSET • SIM JAEYUN

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jaeyun wc. 6.1k+

𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of abuse. mentions of death. oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex. softdom jake.

nia's notes: here's the first installment of the series, i hope you guys enjoy it 🖤 you sunghoon's is next .

lucifer masterlist | sunghoon

You were taken from me…

So pray for me and I'll burn for you …

A week inside this house; and things have been interesting to say the least— no your grandmother hasn't come back to haunt you yet; but the house does seem colder, like cold enough for you to walk around in your sweater all the time; you even tried to turn the thermostat up, but that did nothing.

Then it was the damn lights; you knew it was an old house; but that didn't stop you from tensing up in fear whenever the lights would flicker when you would walk down the hall, almost like the lights would follow you with every step; it felt like someone was there, controlling them, watching you, timing your steps with the lights— it creeped you the fuck out.

And you can't forget your closet door; the door that refused to close no matter what; well no refused to stay closed. you chalked it up to the door being broken so it wouldn't stay closed; just pushing a shoe in front of it when you sleep to keep yourself sane in the darkness.

Besides those things everything else was fine, you had gotten rid of mostly everything out of the house, the wifi guy coming to set up the internet— which took you all day to your demise, having 5 random men in the house while you basically just stood there awkwardly.

On a better note; you had to go back into the town for groceries, where you met huening kai; a cute boy who worked as a cashier in the supermarket— so you did find yourself going to that grocery store 3 more times that week; having enough groceries to last you a while.

“He's super cute.” you threw the keys to the house on the counter, placing the new set of groceries on the table. “yeah he must be, you're gonna go broke.” Yeji said over facetime, you laughed while opening the fridge to put the food up. “you’re laughing, I'm serious; in this economy you're spending money on groceries you don't need.” she said. “Well I mean you practically are rich now, so I guess it doesn't matter to you.”

“No, my parents are rich now, and that's only because my grandmother was Lucifer's wife in her past life and—” You heard a snicker, which made you freeze. “The hell?” You said, putting your 3rd bottle of milk into the fridge. “What is it?” You heard Yeji's voice through the phone. “It sounded like I heard someone just laugh.” You closed the door to the fridge. “Lord you're going crazy up there baby, hearing voices.”

“Not voices, a chuckle.” You said , walking to your room. “Girl that's scarier I fear.” and like clockwork, the damn closest door was wide open again. “This fucking door.” You slammed it shut. “What's with the door?” You sighed , fiddling with the necklace. “I close it and it's open, I even put a shoe, the shoe must not be strong enough.” You said. “Or you have a ghost.” She said, gasping. “Maybe it's your grandma, you should get an ouija board.” she said. “Should I?” You teased, clearly the “wind” didn't like that because your door to the closet creaked open.

“Sorry the monster in my closet doesn't agree with that.” You joked around, getting up, closing the door, putting a book in front of it. “Just a suggestion.” Yeji shrugged, your hand going back to that necklace. “Girl you are obsessed with that damn necklace.” She said, “You've touched it like 20 times since we've been on the phone.” You looked down on the necklace. “I don't know, I'm addicted to it, it's so pretty.” you said. “It is, it's giving vintage in the best way, where'd you get it?”

��It was my grandmothers I guess. I found it sitting in a jewelry box while cleaning out her room.” You explained. “It was the only thing in there.” you said. “Cute, probably from the 1600s, you know when your grandmother was born.” You rolled your eyes. “She was 85.” She shrugged. “Ask your mom, it looks expensive, maybe a family heirloom.”

“I did, she said, growing up, her grandmother never mentioned a family heirloom, she didn't even talk to her family.” You said, shrugging it off. “Whatever it is, or wherever it came from I'm glad I found it before my mom did , then it would've gone to my 17 year old cousin, who probably would've pawned it.”

“I have to go now girl, I've got a date.” Yeji said after about another hour of talking. “Good for you.” you said with a little bit of jealousy. “Hey you still have the cute grocery boy.” You sighed. “Yeah, who lives in the town 30 minutes away.” you said. “Hey, I guess you have to go buy more milk.” She heard her laugh, you scoffed. “Oh haha I hope your date fucks you tonight and doesn't let you finish.” You heard her gasp, hanging up laughing.

You found yourself in the kitchen cooking yourself some dinner; why let the groceries go to waste? sitting the food down on the table, you could've taken it to your room , but the closet thing crept back up on you, scaring you— you know you could change rooms; it wasn't like the house was lacking space, but you couldn't be bothered to move your things, you weren't staying there for long anyway.

Finishing your food, you put the plate in the sink, ready to go back to your room— laughing when a message from Yeji calling you bitch because her date sucked. You were almost to your room, when you heard a noise. No, a crash coming from your bedroom. You freeze right in your spot; that wasn't a figment of your imagination— that was actually coming from your bedroom— the noise was coming from your bedroom.

Now the rational side of your brain was yelling at you to run like hell and then call the damn police like a smart person, but your feet clear wanted to die because you found yourself creeping back to the room, slowly opening the door, it was eerily silent and it felt even colder than usual— and then you noticed it; the closet door was open, the door you knew you closed; and the book you had put in front of the closet? it was across the room.

Was there a person in this house? the police station was 30 minutes out, if you were to call them, you'd be dead by time they got here and that's even if you get a chance to call them— and that's even worse because no one would even bother to come check the house, you didn't know huening kai well enough for him to care about you, and every know that's the former lady of the house died; so by time your dead body would be found, it would most likely be by your parents and it would be all decomposed.

You were freaking out now mentally, scared to move in case a person was in your closet— then you didn't hear anything; surely if someone was in there they would've come out already. You stand up straight , goosebumps all over your arms as you go up to the closet, swinging it open— and nothing; it was nothing in there. You didn't dream it , it wasn't all in your head, you heard the crash, anyone would've heard it.

Swinging the closet door fully open, looking around inside, there was nothing in there but your clothes, and your shoes— your shoes that you put neatly on the inside, now all over the floor; you weren't staying in here another night— you'd drive the 30 minutes into the town of you had to, slamming the the closet door closed. “I got to get the hell out of here.” You whipped around to run out the room.

“Don't go.” A voice that damn sure didn't come out of you spoke. “Please don't go, he'll be mad at me if you do.” there he was sitting on your bed, the jewelry box that was sitting on your nightstand in his hand. “Wait please.” your eyes widened, your mouth open ready to scream. “Don't scream.” he said, jumping up covering your mouth. “This isn't going well, please don't scream.”

He was touching you, looking you dead in your eyes begging you not to scream. “I'm gonna let go now, please don't scream, I'm not here to hurt you .” You nodded, and he slowly let his hand uncover your mouth, putting them by his side. “See, I'm not gonna hurt you.” the boy said, you forced yourself to speak. “wh-who— I have money in my bag, it's over there, please just take it.” he was now confused. “I-i have jewelry too , the lady here had a bunch, it's all real.”

You went to take all the jewelry you were wearing off as well reaching for the necklace sitting on your necklace, so ready to give him anything so he'd just leave you. “Wait, no don't take that off!” He stood up , making you step back, trying to run out. “If you take that off , it might complicate things.”

“W-what?” you took another step back, him following forward. “wh-who are you?” He smiled like he wasn't in your room unwanted. “Im jaeyun.” He introduced himself. “But you can call me Jake, all my friends call me jake.” Friends? He was an intruder. “I'm not an intruder, I live here.” He said— you didn't say that out loud. “I-i won't call the cops, please just leave.”

“I live here, why would I leave?” He seemed confused. “No, m-my grandmother lived here,” he nodded. “So did I.” He said matter of factly. “I lived here longer than her actually.” he said, the door closing behind you making you jump. “I see you backing up, I told you I'm not gonna hurt you.” Your bottom lip trembled in fear. “You did that?!” You said. “Wh-what are you? a ghost?”

He laughed. “No, of course not.” He said. “I'm a demon.” You were going crazy? No , you were dreaming, this was just a weird nightmare. “You're not dreaming, I'm not that kind of demon.” He said. “You-you’re reading my mind, you're closing doors.” he nodded, “you're a demon?” He repeated the head movements. “I'm gonna pass out.”

“Please don't, I'll be in trouble if you get hurt.” He said. “Please i just wanted to talk to you, I've been watching you since you moved in, I was the one who sat the necklace out for you to find, even though that's against the rules; you're actually supposed to find it yourself, but things were different this time.”

“W-what do you want?” you said , he stepped forward once more; and you moved back in reflex. “I wanted to meet you.” He looked like he seemed to know you very well. “meet me? why?” He went silent, like he was trying to find out what to say; he couldn't just say what he wanted right now, you're already freaked out. “you're pretty, I guess that's why.”

“Look there's no need to be scared , okay?” He said. “I'm not gonna hurt you I promise.” He said. “None of us really want to hurt you.” None of us? “There's more of you?” You said. “Shit I can't say more okay, please just know we won't hurt you? Okay?” Before you could do anything else, he reached up , holding the pendent in his hand. “You won't be harmed.” and that's it- he was gone, he disappeared with a blink of an eye; like he never existed.

Like hell you were going to sleep to night, you didn't even bother to turn the light; you will still trying to convince yourself it was just weird freaky dream and you’d wake up from, but when the damn sum started to rise, you finally had to come to the crazy unbelievable conclusion— he was real, there was a demon in this house; you also had to admit your mom was somewhat right about the house being haunted.

you knocked out right then and there, the boy from the night before was there again, he wasn't saying anything though, just staring at you— smiling at you, but it wasn't the puppy like smile he sported last night , it was a sinister one, and his cute brown eyes; they now were red and glowy, what you expect a real demon to look like; but he said he could go into your dream? “He did? little jakey is a liar now.”

You shot up, breathing heavily; clutching your chest. “What the hell?” you tried to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?” safe to say you'll probably never sleep again as long as you're in this house.

Dragging your body out of bed; your shower was quick, scared that someone was watching you, making sure to wrap yourself in a towel, basically running back to your room, closing the door to get dressed— peeking out the door to see if he was out there. When you didn't see him , you stepped outside, creeping down the hallway. “What are you doing?”

You yelped, spinning around; he stood there. “oh I'm sorry.” he said. “I didn't mean to scare you.” He reached out , but you stepped back. “I told you I wasn't gonna hurt you.” He said. “How can I trust you, not when you lied to me?” You said, he tilted his head. “You can come into my dreams.” His eyes widened. “Who told you that?” He said. “So you can?” He was silent. “Can you?” You repeated. “Well yeah but I didn't go into your dreams yesterday.”

“But you have.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It was the third night after you found the necklace.” He said. “You um, it was uh.” His ears were turning red, you understood what he meant. “I hid in the closet.” He said. “So you're a pervert?” He shook his head. “No, I didn't go into them anymore I swear.” he was a demon; how could you trust a demon. “That's understandable, who'd be crazy enough to trust a demon?”

“If you want me to even attempt to trust you, stay outta my mind.” you said, he held his hand up, putting it to his chest. “I swear.” He said, you nodded. “Fine.” You said. “But I have questions.”

“I reckon you don't eat eggs?” You said. “I don't eat anything, I don't need to.” He said, you nodded. “Of course you don't.” You sat down at the table. “Sit down, you're standing is creeping me out.” he smiled sitting down. “So ask me anything, I can answer everything you want.”

“Who the hell was in my dreams last night?” It was his turn to tense up. “I can't exactly tell you why he was in the dream, but that was sunghoon, you can only see him in in dreams for now?” He said. “and why is that?” He chewed his bottom of his lip. “because he doesn't want to see you yet.” You heard him whisper under his breath. “Is he dangerous?” You said. “Well no , not exactly.” You stopped chewing your food. “what does that mean?” You questioned. “He won't hurt you.” He said. “Hopefully.”

“What does any of this have to do with this necklace?” You said. “Well I actually don't know too much about that either.” He said, you scoffed. “what do you know?” You said. “Well that necklace is why I'm here today, well that and because I want you to see me.” You perked up. “So without the necklace I wouldn't be able to see you?” he nodded. “Not exactly, anyone could see us if we wanted them to, we're bonded with the necklace, and now that you've worn it, we're bonded with you.”

“You keep saying we, are you talking about the one who was in my dream?” he nodded. “no not sunghoon, jay.” He answered. “You can't see him either?”

“He doesn't want to see me?” He shrugged. “He just likes to observe most times.” He explained. “He's been here the longest so I understand, he doesn't adjust well to people who have the necklace.” he frowned. “Bunch of bad experiences.” You held your head. “You okay?” He asked, concerned. “It's all too much , I feel like my head is gonna explode.”

He wants to reach over the table and grab your hand, he almost is compelled to; but he doesn't want to scare you even more , so he just sits in silence, letting you come to terms with everyone. “Look.” He was the first to speak up. “I get this is a lot to take in, so I'll give you some space.” He said. “When you're ready, just call for me.” Before leaving he said one more than. “Any time you call for me I'll be there, just like before.”

You don't call for him for the next few days, trying to just wrap your head around everything he told you— which wasn't much, but before moving here you believed there was no such thing as demons, so it was a lot for you. You tried to call your mom, but what you tell her; the house has demons; but only you can see them, but you can only see one because one is too traumatized for some reason to show himself; and the other doesn't want to see you and may or may not want to kill you— that would get you locked away in a padded room.

You tried to talk to Yeji the best way you could, but of course she thought you were just having nightmares— you wish it was just a nightmare that you were having. You even walked around the house, trying to find something; anything to make some sense of it; maybe Jake was useful, at least he cured your boredom. “You're not gonna find anything.”

You turned around, glaring. “I didn't call you.” He nodded. “not with your mouth no, but you did say my name.” He said, pointing to his head. “What did I say?” you said. “I'm sorry.” He said. “I just really wanted to see you, it's been 4 days, I missed you.” You smiled, he was kinda cute for a being that was probably centuries years old. “How old are you?”

“Well me i've only been here 100 years.” he said like it was normal. “I told you I've been here for a while.” you nodded. “Yeah a long time.” He laughed. “Not as long as my brothers , but long enough.” He said. “Did you know my grandmother?” He looked uncomfortable. “Your grandma was a scary woman.” He shifted in his seat. “What do you mean by that?” You asked , he shook his head. “It's not my story to tell, just know she wasn't a nice person, and I've met my fair share of not nice people.”

What did she do that had this century old demon so scared? “Well I didn't know her, she and my mom never got along.” You said. “Oh I know, we listened to them argue all the time, I was happy when your mom left , she didn't have to endure the abuse your grandmother put her through. He frowned. “Abuse?” you never heard about any abuse from your mother. “Oh she never told you?” You shook your head no. “Your grandmother was cruel to her , hitting and yelling at her; she would even lock your mom in a closet when she'd misbehave; your grandfather tried to stop it but your grandma, she was evil to everyone.”

That made you angry; all those years you spent telling your mom that she probably wasn't that bad, and that they just needed to make up— you felt sad because your mom couldn't tell you. Jake saw your face drop, he grabbed your hand. “But I know you aren't like that, I can tell you're different.” He said. “I believe we've bonded with the perfect person.”

He was so sweet; how could someone like him be a demon. “You don't seem like someone who'd be a bad person in life , how did you become a demon?” He looked down at the table. “Did I say something wrong?” He shook his no. “Of course not.” He toyed with his fingers. “I won't lie and say there are bad demons; of course there are,” he said. “But some of us made decisions; did things that made us like this.” He said. “And what did you do?”

“I sold my soul.” He started, “I sold my soul for the person I love.” You sat back in the seat. “So you were a human?” He nodded, smiling. “It was a lot different from today when I was a human, but I've learned to adjust throughout the time periods.” He explained. “I was tricked.” He said, “Her name was Grace, she was the love of my life, I knew I was gonna spend the rest of my natural human life with her.” his smile dropped. “But she got sick; really sick and she was gonna die, and I couldn't have that, I needed her, I felt like I couldn't breathe with her.”

He looked so broken retelling the story. “He feeds off of vulnerability, he felt how desperate I was; he came to me when she was days away from death; he said your life for hers— I should've read the fine print I guess.” He chuckled. “I thought he'd kill me right then and there, but no he'd said he'd be back.” He said. “He came back a few years later, I died of the same sickness she did, ironic huh?” You didn't know if you should laugh, so you just nodded. “I watched her grieve, and I watched her grow old; she got remarried again, and had children— then I watched her die.” He said. “Then he sent me here, and I saw again— my grace; except her name wasn't Grace, it was Laura, but she had her soul, she found the necklace; but she didn't remember me, I tried to explain it to her but she didn't believe it.” He said. “Then I realized my punishment; I have to watch her die; I have to watch her soul die over and over.” He said looking back up at you. “That's why I feel so drawn to you; you have her soul.”

“M-me?” He nodded. “Don't be frightened I know it's weird.” He said. “I didn't believe in reincarnation either; until this.” He said; you didn't believe it either, but given the situation; you don't know what to believe anymore— he was literally telling you that you have the soul of his dead girlfriend from over 100 years ago. “Please tell me you believe me?”

“It sure is a lot to take in.” You started. “But I don't believe you'd tell me this if it wasn't true.” He perked up with a smile. “Really, you believe me?” He said, you slowly nodded. “I guess I do.” You said. “Wow , they don't normally believe me, and years go by and they all get married or live good lives and soon they forget about the necklace and put it back then the bond is broken and they don't even think about us.”

“Are all your stories like that?” He shook his head. “No, we've all different stories, different reasons we ended up like this.” He said. “Mistakes we've made.”

He stayed around longer , telling you everything he could about himself; you even told him about stuff in your life; how you recently graduated from college and plan to start work at a company after the summer. “So that means you'll leave soon?” You questioned. “Will you keep the necklace?” He asked. “When you take the necklace off you break the bond between us.” He said; you hadn't even thought about it yet; how would this even work in the city? you can't even explain this to anybody. “I don't know, but it's a little early to answer that.” You saw him frown. “Don't get too upset though, okay nothing is set in stone yet.” You reassured , he smiled. “Okay.”

You eventually fell asleep, exhausted from the day. Jake sat at the end of the bed; just watching you, the air entering and leaving your body, lightly snoring; you were so pretty; he could feel graces soul in you, but it also felt like something new, you were a breath a fresh air— he'd only known you for a few days , but he'd been watching you since the first day you got here, he liked you. “stop staring at her, you look like a creep.”

He looked up where he stood. “why'd you go in her dream?” The boy shrugged. “Fun, seeing her scared; why'd you lie , didn't want her to know you were creeping on her in her dreams” Jake stood up. “Let's go, Jay is probably waiting.” He looked back at you, where you were sleeping comfortably— he smiled.

This gradually progressed after he told you his life story; you actually started to call out to him more, letting him be around you and getting to know what he was like now; as a demon and all, you showed him all your favorite shows, he said he was still able to leave the house so he was caught up— they all were they just chose to stay up here in the house. “Plus it would be hard explaining to elderly folks in this town why they were still the same age from when they were young.” and that you understood.

Sitting on the couch one day; watching lucifer— it was his request. “This is a great depiction of him really, the actor in this is much more handsome though.” You turn to him. “Of course Lucifer in real life is much more terrifying and has absolutely no feelings.” He said his personality was so human-like , it was like he wasn't even a demon. “you don't really act like a demon.” You said. “Sure I could be angry about my situation and turn evil, but it's hard to be mad when I did this to myself.” He said. “I sold my soul to the devil.” He shrugged it off.

“Do you ever regret it?” He nodded. “It's not easy grieving the loss of someone you loved over and over and they don't even remember you.” he said. “And keeping up with the trends of course , I mean sometimes I would rather be dead than listen to anything these kids talk about today.” You giggled. “What?” He said. “You say these kids , with the most youthful looking face, it's funny.” he laughed, pouting. “Hey I'm at least 122 years older than you.” That made you laugh even harder. “That doesn't help at all.”

“Hey, stop laughing.” He smiled. “Stop it right now.” You couldn't. “So you won't stop.” before you could react, he was on top of you. “So keep laughing.” He began to tickle your sides , Jake laughed as you began to gasp for air. “Jake, stop it.” you shouted. “Okay , okay I'll stop.” You said , throwing your hands up in defense. “I'm done.”

“You're gonna stop?” You nodded. “I swear.” He took away his hands from your side; but he was still on top of you, basically straddling you, looking down at you. “That wasn't fa—” his lips were on before you could finish the sentence, your eyes widened as he quickly pulled back. “shit I'm so sorry.” he cursed at himself. “It's okay.” You tried to calm him down. “It's not a bi—” before you could even finish, he was gone. “jake?” You called him, then you called him again; then again— but he never came.

He didn't come for another 4 days, and those days felt like torture; you roamed the halls just calling out for his name— desperate you know, but that's what you were, desperate. You missed his company. You missed him; to the point you'd wish he'd show up in your closet again.

“You can call more, living your life in seclusion can't be healthy.” Yeji said. “it's not total seclusion.” You said, wondering the halls like you found yourself doing. “the grocery boy doesn't count.” You rolled your eyes. “I'm not talking about him either.” You were referring to the demon who managed to make you go insane without his presence— maybe that's his evil. “Well unless you got a pet then I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“It's nothing, just saying nonsense.” You said. “Maybe I should come up there and visit you.” She said, “No you don't have to, I don't want to ruin your summer.” You said, also you didn't want her to find out about any of this. “Enjoy your summer fun and I'll see you soon back in the city.” She hummed. “Well make sure you eat enough food okay?” She said, “And try to socialize.” she said before hanging up.

You went back to your room, calling his name once more; but you knew he wasn't gonna answer. “I'm here.” You shot up, hearing that voice you've missed for the past 4 days. “Jake.” He sat down on the bed. “You said if I call you'd answer.” You frowned. “I know.” He looked down. “Why'd you leave like that?” He didn't say anything, and it just made you angry. “If you're just gonna stand there and not say anything, then go back to wherever you came from.”

“You don't mean that.” He said. “And how do you figure?” You questioned your eyebrow lifting. “Because you've called out for me for the past four days.” He started. “And I read your mind.” You glared at him. “Fine I'm sorry.” He said. “I didn't mean to leave you alone , I really didn't mean to hurt you y/n , you gotta believe me.”

“Well you did, you ran away.” You said. “and I'm sorry, I was just scared.” He said. “Scared that you'd get scared and take the necklace off, try and break the bond.” He said. “I shouldn't have kissed you , I know it was wrong , but please don't hate me.” He was rambling. “I didn't hate the kiss.” He stopped. “You didn't?”

“You would've known that had you not run away like a coward.” He nodded , you were rightfully upset— and you genuinely wanted to be pissed at him, but you couldn't, that's how much you missed him. “y/n , look—” before he could say anything , you practically threw yourself into his lap , kissing him. “You mmph missed me that much.” He said in between kisses. “Shut up.”

You grabbed his face, his hands wrapping around your waist, basically lifting you up as your lips danced against each other. “Fuck I love this so much.” He groaned , laying you down on the bed; his body hovering over yours , grinding his hips against yours, you felt his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “Wanted to do this since the first day you walked through those doors.” His hands caressed your face, slowly making his way down your body; your body reacting to his touches. “J-jake.” You whimpered. “Need you so much Jake.”

He began to attack your neck with kisses, his hands working on your shorts; unbuttoning them, kissing down your stomach. “Do you want this?” he questioned, you nodded. “words darling, I need words.” You moaned as he pulled down your shorts. “Please Jake , it hurts so bad” you were so needy, not having a time to pleasure yourself; well that and the fact you didn't feel comfortable knowing there were three demons in the house who could see you.

he threw your shorts somewhere, his eyes full of need as he turned back to you. “So pretty.” He ran up your clothed slit. “So wet.” you let out a moan as he kissed your cunt. “T-take them off.” Your hands tugged at his roots. “Fuck okay.” He groaned, the sensation from you pulling on his roots , making his cock twitch, pulling your panties down.

He finally got rid of your panties, leaving you bare waist down. “Fuck you're dripping.” He kissed the inside of your thighs, “smell so good.” He licked your folds. “Sh-shit.” Getting a taste of your sweet cunt, sent the demon into a frenzy, desperate to taste you more. “Fuck Jake!” He held your thighs open as he sucked on your clit.

He continued the assault on your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit , you felt your orgasm reaching and fast. “Fuck Jake fu-fuck I'm not gonna last.” You moaned. “I'm cumming!” You screamed, yanked at his hair harder as you came, your legs shaking as he ate you out through your orgasm, taking in everything you had to offer him. “shit.”

He forced himself away before he made you cum in his mouth over and over; plus his cock was so hard, he felt like he was gonna burst if he did fuck you. “You're so fucking addicting.” He cursed , his body hovering over yours. “Need to fuck you.” He groaned , palming himself. “Please.”

You reached in between your bodies , unbuckling his pants. “Please fuck me.” You pushed his pants down , he stood up , fully taking them off; climbing back into the bed , freeing his cock from his underwear. “You want my cock?” He moaned , rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. “Want me to fill this pussy?” You nodded moaning his name. “Please jake , please fuck me.”

He wasted no time , pushing his cock into you, both of you moaning out in pleasure; rocking his hip slowly , letting his cock drag along your walls. “Oh fuck , you're so fucking tight.” He groaned , his hand coming up to your boobs , squeezing it; your hips bucked up , matching the roll of his hips. “You feel so good.” Your nails clawing down his back. “Fuck if you that I'm gonna cum.”

His thrust began to become less coordinated , his abdomen tightening. “I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered against your lips. “M-me too.” His hands came in between your legs , rubbing your clit. “Cum for me baby , cum all over my cock.” Your legs stiffened , your back arching as you came. “that's it , keep cumming on my dick— shit I'm gonna cum.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head , the band snapping in his stomach. “Fuck I'm cumming!”

He let out a moan , feeling his cum sticking to your walls. “Sh-shit.” He slowly pulled out , his cum leaking out of you. “So pretty.” He let his cock rub against your messy folds , smearing his cum. “So messy.” he tapped his mushroom top on your bud. “You did so good , took my cock like a good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “such a good girl.”

“Why were they in my closet?” You laid in his arms afterwards. “Because you wouldn't look in there.” He said , you looked at him. “And taking the jewelry box?” He smiled. “I didn't mean to take it , I was just looking at it , then I got tangled up in your stupid shoe rack and I fell , so I tried to quickly return it , but you were faster.” You giggled, shaking your head.

“So I guess since you were the perv in my closet, you were also the perv in the mirror , staring at me?” Jake sat up a bit. “No I never did that , and I'm not a perv.” He pouted, you tapped his cheek. “it's okay you don't have to lie?” You said , but Jake was serious. “Love, I'm serious , it wasn't me in the mirror.” He said , you sat up. “It wasn't?” He shook his head no.

So, then who was it?

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon

©️LUVYENI

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim fanfic #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun hard hours #sim jake

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hoseoksluna · 2 months

Text

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy.

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world.

White wine.

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks.

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him.

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now.

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight.

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you.

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too.

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently.

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion.

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy.

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before.

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room.

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.”

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away.

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard.

“Taste it for me first.”

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too.

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.”

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp.

“More.”

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?”

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum.

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it.

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good.

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name.

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree.

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain.

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts.

“You’re gonna take control of me?”

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face.

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.”

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?”

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.”

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way.

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?”

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.”

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?”

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.”

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up.

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession.

“No, not from her. Please, from you.”

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger.

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper.

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.”

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants.

“Boxers, too?”

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.”

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp.

And he lets you. In the name of love.

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home.

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him.

How sweet.

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?”

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch.

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view.

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain.

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?”

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth.

You knew it.

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.”

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him.

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan.

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?”

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you.

“Vinny.”

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable.

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?”

“Please.”

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger.

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether.

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness.

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him.

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.”

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.”

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?”

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.”

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is.

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?”

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths.

Then, Jungkook glares at you.

“I’m gonna destroy you.”

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.”

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his.

And he proves you right.

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid.

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.”

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it.

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does.

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did.

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.”

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?”

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings.

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it.

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him.

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine.

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come.

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?”

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.”

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow.

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again.

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless.

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.”

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?”

“And your snores.”

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him.

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time.

You shake your head. “I messed up.”

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock.

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.”

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.”

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain.

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?”

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?”

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.”

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.”

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks.

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down.

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand.

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets.

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.”

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.”

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back.

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.”

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.”

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering.

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there.

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.”

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?”

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.”

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?”

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole.

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue.

“Sit up. Ride my face.”

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake.

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take.

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come.

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew.

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him.

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.”

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest.

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars.

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease.

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.”

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit.

And then he gets up.

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you.

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.”

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them.

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth.

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves.

“I love you, Ggukie.”

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips.

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.”

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can.

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart.

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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prokopetz · 9 days

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Last night while I was in bed I was thinking about a series where each individual part of it was released in a separate format; for example, Part 1 is released as a book, Part 2 as a movie, Part 3 as a video game, et cetera. Do you know of anything that fits this bill, even somewhat?

It's a fairly common pattern if you count the whole "TV show's plot continued as a series of films" phenomenon. Assuming you've already ruled that out as too obvious (or you're counting film and television as the same medium), the next most common pattern in my experience is "book or film whose direct sequel is a video game" (i.e., in the sense that the video game is a direct continuation, rather than an adaptation of any particular prior instalment), or occasionally vice versa.

The earliest example of the latter I can come up with off the top of my head is Zilpha Keatley Snyder's Green Sky Trilogy, published from 1975 through 1978, whose overarching plot is continued – and ultimately resolved – in the 1984 video game Below the Root.* Other examples include the 1997 video game Parasite Eve (direct sequel to the 1995 novel of the same name, though the English localisation takes numerous liberties to ensure that familiarity with the novel is unnecessary, as it wouldn't be published in English until 2005), or Turbo Kid (video game, 2024), direct sequel to Turbo Kid (feature film, 2015). Going the other direction, you can easily make an argument for Final Fantasy VII (1997), a video game whose direct sequel, Final Fantasy: Advent Children (2005), is an animated feature film.

As for examples spanning three or more separate mediums, I can't think of one off the top of my head, but I'm sure they exist. Maybe someone in the notes can come up with one!

* Interestingly, apart from being one of the earliest examples of a series of novels continued in video game form, Below the Root is often cited as one of the early prototypes of what would become the metroidvania formula; it's really more of a text adventure with light platforming elements, but the outlines are there.

#media #television #movies #literature #video games sequels #adaptations

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surftrips · 6 months

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BAD REPUTATION | LUKE CASTELLAN

HEARTBREAKER — CHAPTER 02

pairing luke castellan x fem!ares!reader

summary y/n is challenged by campers and her growing feelings for luke castellan.

author's note thank you for all the support on this series! i made a masterlist here so you can easily find the parts <3 as always, comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist and lmk your thoughts :)

→ installment of this au read for context

Luke Castellan found it increasingly harder and harder to hide his feelings for you. He could no longer make eye contact with you without his face turning an embarrassing shade of red. In fact, he could hardly look at your face because somehow his eyes would always end up darting toward your lips, or even lower if you were wearing a certain tank top that day.

“My eyes are up here, Castellan,” you quipped at him once.

Quite frankly, it was ruining his own reputation around camp as the best swordsman and a stoic warrior. If word got out that he fell to his knees at the hands of an Ares girl, what would people think of him?

As stories of your excellent skills got around, so did rumors about you. Everyone was interested to hear whose heart you had broken next, all because of that first fateful incident with a camper named Connor.

Connor, son of Apollo, thought that he could challenge you to an archery competition. He had bet that if he won, he could take you out on a date. How could you resist the urge to prove him wrong?

A small crowd had gathered to watch the two of you. Some people rooted for Connor, trusting that his combat skills would be stronger because of his father. However, the innate strength and talent from your own godly father allowed you to become familiar with the bow and arrow rather quickly.

“Careful, or one of your siblings will have to heal you later,” you warned.

“Oh, I think you’re the one that’s going to end up at my cabin later,” Connor responded snarkily.

You hated losing. It wasn’t an option for you. You didn’t care that Connor technically had the upper hand here, you were going to beat him regardless.

The rules were simple: there were four targets. Whoever hit the most points, won.

Connor went first, hitting an impressive 34 points.

“Beat that, pretty girl.”

You tried not to cringe at his nickname for you, and confidently walked up to the front. You quickly scanned the crowd, eyes landing on the brunette-haired boy you didn't realize you were looking for. Luke smiled at you, and suddenly everyone else faded away.

Turning back toward the targets, you lined up your bow and arrow and took the first shot. You hit eight points, which was not bad, but you were going to have to do better in order to win.

Trying to hone in on your training, you closed your eyes for the next shot and trusted your instincts. You heard the arrow hitting wood and before you could open your eyes, cheers had erupted from the crowd. Bullseye.

With 17 points left to beat Connor, you had to hit at least another bullseye. And you did just that.

Turning to Connor, you said, “Any last words before I take this final shot?”

“What time am I picking you up tonight?” he said, not losing hope just yet. You had to give it to him and his tireless persistence.

Your eyes focused in on the last target, until all you could see was the gold center. It kind of looked like the sun, and reminded you of a certain someone. You released the arrow, but at the last second felt your finger flinch.

Shit, you thought. But the crowd had already begun cheering again, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You had hit eight on the last one, just enough to win.

“Okay, who’s next?” you declared triumphantly, not missing the disappointed look on Connor's face.

After the competition, Luke walked over to congratulate you on your win.

“Hey, that was sick!” He placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, thanks!”

“You’re not beating yourself up over that last one, are you?”

“Wh- how’d you know?” You were silently cursing yourself for not making that last bullseye and blowing Connor completely out of the water.

“I know you, Y/N. Don’t look so surprised.”

“Okay, well, what am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmm,” he pretended to be lost in thought. “Dinner?”

“You know me so well.”

Ever since then, various people at camp had challenged you to their own duels in an effort to ask you out, just for you to beat them time and time again.

You weren’t sure why anyone thought you would be interested in them, when you had not once expressed a want for any sort of romantic entanglements. Because that’s all they were to you, entanglements. Complicated messes that were hard to get out of.

“Okay, I need boy advice,” Annabeth announced.

“No,” you responded. This was the first of many sleepovers you, her, and Clarisse would have together.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“That’s my advice, do yourself a favor and just don’t.”

“Okay, what’s the story?” the young girl asked.

“I dated this guy once. Long story short, all men do is disappoint you. It’s not worth it.”

“I second that,” Clarisse joined in.

“Wait- who do you like?” you asked, processing Annabeth’s original question.

“Oh, forget it. I’m not gonna tell you guys now,” she responded.

“No, you have to tell us!” Clarisse insisted.

When Annabeth didn’t respond, you and Clarisse began throwing pillows at her.

“Stop! Stop!” she giggled. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you guys.”

You and Clarisse waited with baited breath as Annabeth formed his name in her mouth. “Percy.”

Chaos ensued. You’re pretty sure that you squealed loud enough to break glass and Clarisse nearly woke up the cabin on the other side of camp. Luckily for you guys, it was a weekend that many of the campers had gone home for.

“Why are you guys cheering?” Annabeth asked, confused.

“Because we’re happy for you! Your first crush is so exciting!” Clarisse said.

Annabeth had always been like a younger sister to you and Clarisse, and you couldn’t help but be happy for her, despite your personal feelings about love.

“Y/N, what do you think?” Annabeth turned to you.

“I think you don’t even need our advice. Just be yourself, I’m sure he already thinks you’re amazing.”

The young girl beamed at you. “I thought you were anti-boys.”

“I am, if it were up to me, there would be no boys here.”

“Not even Luke?” Annabeth asked, feigning innocence.

“Well, is he a boy?” you responded.

“Yeah, but not just any boy….” Clarisse joined in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you sat up on your elbows in bed.

“Y/N, just admit it! He’s different!” Annabeth said.

“No, he’s still just a boy,” you said, trying to convince them, or yourself.

Annabeth and Clarisse looked at each other knowingly, but dropped the subject before upsetting you further.

The truth was, the thought of Luke Castellan terrified you.

At first, you didn’t want to admit it. There was no way Luke Castellan liked you, and there was absolutely no way that you liked him back. Not in any universe, above or on earth. Not after you had made it your whole mission to swear off boys completely.

Sure, you constantly picked each other as partners in Capture the Flag, sat next to each other over bonfires, and talked to each other everyday, but nothing friends didn’t do.

You tried to be oblivious to his longing glances at you, the way his face lit up when he saw you, but Annabeth and Clarisse were not shy in pointing out each time he smiled at you like you hung the moon and stars.

For years, Luke had repressed his emotions for fear of being perceived as weak. But each time you came around, he wondered if love could even be equated to weakness if he had never felt anything stronger.

Liked by lukecastellan and 170 others.

tagged annaaabeth and clarisse

ynuser with the girls 🏹💕

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annaaabeth love youuu

clarisse so much fun!

lukecastellan ur foul for that last pic

ynuser whose side are you on

percyjackson second pic is me to you when i don't get invited to the sleepover :(

—

TAGLIST: @ravisinghs-wife @jules-loves-lukecastellan @favreader23 @clydeisalsoellie @yuminako @luxreziaa @eddiesdrummergf @whataprettyshadeofred @grace-928 @girls-and-guts @supercutszns @noodlesketchbook @birdiewriteslit @mitskiswift99 @idontevencare1223 @randomnpc456 @lucycarlisleswife @angelicdanvers @imguce @anitatvd (please lmk if you want to be added or i missed you!)

#bad rep series #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x you #luke castellan x you

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fyorina · 2 months

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ᡣ𐭩 ICARION

FEATURING: beast dazai osamu

SUMMARY: dazai had known he was flying too close to the sun, he should have stopped himself while he still had the chance. {wordcount: 11.5k; fem!reader, romance & tragedy}

AUTHOR'S NOTES: installment fiveeeee otherwise known as part 2 of installment four LOL! ugh guys i'm dragging myself thru the trenches right now i'm so miserable - i wasn't even up to posting this today i won't lie but </3 i pulled thru </3 if only barely. fun fact this is actually only a 3 scene chapter but the second scene is just MASSIVE. i wasn't up to restructuring so you guys are just going to get it as it is. this is also unedited because i just wasn't up to it so bear with me regarding mistakes. JUST TO REMIND YOU ALL: the last installment is DELAYED - i have 3 finals next week and haven't had the time to finish it. it will be up by the end of may </3 sorry guys. wow this actually is attempt number three trying to post this correctly - i'm so shot

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from badlands - if you guys read badlands, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole 12k chapter just because there's 4k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the SECOND scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in badlands, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, dazai cries </3 poor baby, sub!dazai, as always pussy drunk!dazai, bit of overstim on dazai's part too, jfhsuhdfsu i will say it starts on the bathroom floor so that might be a bit gross to some of you but dazai hardly even uses his apartment anyway so trust it's clean. bear with me. it just flowed from there i had to go with it. the story writes itself, i'm only the scribe. LOL let me know if i missed anything, i might have

SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A

Dazai is hardly listening to the conversation at hand. They’ve been going back and forth for thirty minutes about inconsequential matters. Tolstoy is getting increasingly heated as he goes tit-for-tat with Nabokov, evidently the tripartite alliance between the Russian mafias is not quite enough to quell all of the bad blood that’s simmered between them, but something about the situation isn’t sitting right to Dazai. He can feel it in his gut, swirling in the depths of his chest—something is wrong but he doesn’t know what.

Mishima looks equally put out, gaze trained on Tolstoy and Nabokov’s conversation, occasionally looking back at his executives. Cao seems bored, head tilted back against the red cushions of the round booth as he smokes a cigarette; in all regards, he seems relaxed, but Dazai notices the way the fingers of his free hand are tense on the table, as if he’s bracing himself for something.

Something isn’t right.

Dostoevsky is cunning. Intelligent. He’s been lethally sharp in every universe that the other Dazais have encountered him in. He wouldn’t send Tolstoy and Nabokov into this meeting with them at each other’s throats like this without an ulterior reason. Dazai is missing something critical; he knows it’s not something as simple as wanting to give off the appearance of a divided front as means to get Dazai and Mishima to lower their guard. Nothing is that easy. There’s some ulterior motive that Dazai has to figure out.

Cao’s presence. Tolstoy and Nabokov’s blatant hostility toward one another. Mishima’s words from earlier, warning him that something seems to be brewing, that Tolstoy and Nabokov had been on edge since he arrived at the event hall. Dazai’s head hurts, and he can’t focus, not when you’re in the other room without him.

Already, he feels as if he’s been separated from you for too long, he’d been hoping this meeting was only going to last thirty minutes at most, and it’s been thirty minutes already and hardly any progress has been made. If Dazai didn’t know any better, he’d think that…

He’d think that Tolstoy and Nabokov were stalling.

At once, Dazai starts catching onto the things that he missed. The way Nabokov keeps glancing up at the clock on the wall above Cao. The way Tolstoy’s gaze keeps flickering to his phone. The way Cao’s attention seems to be elsewhere.

Cao Xueqin. A Dream of Red Mansions. A scrying ability.

His heartbeat slows and Dazai blinks. Once. Twice. Blood roars in his ears as his gaze twists down to where his phone is laying on the table in front of him, on its face. Tachihara should have texted him to let him know that he got to you. Him or Chuuya. He usually reports to Chuuya anyway, so Dazai figured that Chuuya would’ve gotten the confirmation. He turns his head to the side to look at the executive from the corner of his eye, trying to keep his breath as slow and steady and natural as possible when he realizes that Chuuya is frowning with furrowed brows, looking at his phone. Unsure.

Dazia reaches for his own phone, fingers deceptively steady despite the way his insides are curdling with a sudden jolt of anxiety. His eyes zero in on the top right corner of his phone. No signal. Dazai has been to this event hall countless times in this life and dozens of others—there’s always service throughout the building.

Unless it’s being jammed, that is.

Dazai’s blood runs cold, gaze dragging from his phone to the door that leads to the hallway connecting to the event hall where you are. He feels as if he’s been doused with icy water and lit on fire all at once. For a second, he doesn’t move—he’s not sure if it’s anxiety or fear, or both, but he knows it’s because you’re out there and Dostoevsky is plotting something while trying to keep him out of the picture in this meeting.

He should have known better. Mishima had assumed that Dostoevsky wasn’t in the building—he had his three best scouts prowling the whole building trying to place the real leader of the tripartite but had failed. Nabokov had apparently told him that Dostoevsky had to stay back to handle residual business in Russia, a blatant lie, one that has had Mishima on edge all night.

The one with the overcoat. The clown.

Dazai stills as he remembers the white haired man who hung around Dostoevsky in some of the other universes. Not all of the other Dazais encountered him—in fact, Dazai thinks there were only half a dozen other universes where he met the man, he can hardly remember his name, but when he did…

Spatial linking. Of course Mishima’s men hadn’t been able to hunt down Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky would’ve predicted that the Sun and Steel would seek out the mastermind with their scouts. He used the clown to enter the building without anyone knowing after the scouts finished their hunt.

Dazai had missed a critical piece on the board.

Dazai rises to his feet abruptly, mind numb, eyes distant, and lips parted to speak but no words escape them. Tolstoy and Nabokov exchange a sharp, pointed look, pausing in their hostilities, and Dazai knows. He knows.

Dostoevsky is going after you.

He hears Chuuya and Kouyou calling after him but it sounds like a distant buzz. His throat feels clogged, his heartbeat is erratic and uncontrollable, his ears are ringing. His surroundings are blurry, a part of him doesn’t even know where he is: the event hall, your apartment, in the cafe below the Armed Detective Agency, it’s all blurring together.

This is it.

His vision swims and his head spins. The hallway seems impossibly long, much longer than it was to walk to the room. He can hear Chuuya spitting curses, scrambling out of the room, and he’s sure that his other executives and the other mafiosos aren’t far behind, but Dazai’s mind is on a single track. He doesn’t know how fast he’s moving—fast enough that Chuuya is chasing after him but can’t catch him. Something is heavy and cool in his hand—his gun—numb fingers moving to click the safety off.

This is it.

He might enter that hall and find you dead, slumped over the bar he’d last seen you sitting at, blood splattered across your face. Limp, cold. Just like you were on your bedroom floor. In the booth at the cafe. He’s pulling you from the water. He’s screaming for Yosano when he’s with the Agency. He’s screaming for Mori when he’s with the Mafia. Sometimes he’s alone, and he has no one to call for help, so all he can do is hold you and cry.

It’s his fault. He knew this would happen from the beginning. He knew that being with you would lead you to the same fate that you’ve met in every other universe because of him. He knew that being with you would be your death sentence, but he couldn’t stop himself.

His vision swims again, the red and gold patterns on the walls of the event hall are indistinct blobs, he feels someone try to grab his wrist—Chuuya, probably—but Dazai rips himself free and pushes himself into the event hall.

He ignores the eyes on him and the way people all instinctively move away from the sight of him with his gun out, he’s sure he must look deranged but he’s hardly even keeping himself grounded to this reality. Pages pile around him, every single one has variations of the same scene that’s haunted him for almost eight years written on it; one is being written before his eyes, he can see the words appearing on the blank sheet. He needs to find you before it’s complete. He has to stop it.

His eyes cut across the room, toward the bar he’d last seen you at, and you’re there. You’re there. It’s almost enough to make him scramble to put his gun away, cover up his steep spiral of paranoia even if you are looking right in his direction and see the gun in his hand. He can hardly come to terms with the consequences of this, how you’re seeing him right now, because his gaze tunnels right in on the person sitting next to you and his world comes to a halt.

He lifts the gun. He ignores as people shriek and scramble to the edges of the room. He ignores the look on your face as he moves closer to where you’re sitting with Fyodor Dostoevsky. He ignores the way Chuuya and Kouyou and Piano Man have all skid to a stop somewhere behind him, trying to figure out what to do. Dostoevsky’s hand is mere inches away from brushing against your body, it would only take the slightest movement and you would be dead. It would be a game of who’s faster: Dazai’s trigger finger or Dostoevsky’s ability. Dazai’s always been quick to pull the trigger but now, faced with your life on the line, when he should be at his best because of what’s at risk, he finds himself scared and unsteady.

He can’t lose you. He can’t watch it happen.

He paces toward you slowly, steadily, he swears each step he takes echoes across the suddenly silent event hall. He doesn’t stop until the muzzle of his gun is pressed against the back of Dostoevsky’s head.

“Stand up.” Dazai’s voice is deceptively cold and steady for the rage and fear that’s clawing at his chest, threatening to take control.

Dostoevsky turns his head to the side to look at Dazai, faint amusement in his eyes. “Are you sure you really want to do this here, Dazai?”

The mocking lilt his voice takes is almost enough alone for Dazai to pull the trigger. And if that wasn’t, the way Dostoevsky smiles at Dazai like he’s won is certainly enough to push him over the edge.

Before he can, he feels Chuuya grab his bicep hard.

“You can’t do this here,” he hisses quietly. “If you kill him now on neutral territory, we’ll have all of the mafias in the Eastern Hemisphere coming after you and the government on your ass. You can’t do this here and you can’t do it in public.”

Dazai doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how many mafias come after him for killing on neutral territory when invited as a guest. He doesn’t care that the government will come after him for such a blatant murder. All he cares about is getting Dostoevsky away from you.

“Chuuya is right,” Kouyou murmurs, low enough for only Dazai to overhear. “We can cover this up as is. If you pull the trigger, there’s no hiding what happened here. You know better than this, boy. You won’t be the only person this affects if you do this. Think of her. She will be implicated for coming here with you. Lower the gun and let us handle sweeping this under the rug.”

Dazai can’t even bring himself to look at you. He’s scared of what he might find. But he doesn’t even consider lowering the gun, not until Dostoevsky raises his hands and slips off the bar stool to step away from you. Even when he does, Dazai keeps it trained on him, still tempted to blow his head right off his shoulders.

“I meant no harm,” Dostoevsky says smoothly. “I was intrigued, wanted to know the girl who’s managed to capture your interest. I must say, I see the appeal. Beautiful and intelligent, you have quite the eye, Dazai.”

Dazai’s lips stretch into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s not kind, and it’s mildly feral, and Dazai’s pretty sure he must look entirely deranged from the way Dostoevsky’s eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and entertainment, just enough to be noticeable.

“If you ever go near her again, I’ll put a bullet through your fucking skull, Dostoevsky.”

He should do it now. He should. Fuck Chuuya and Kouyou’s warnings, he should put a bullet in his head and be done with it, move onto handling Christie so that both of the major threats to your life are gone. But he can’t. If he takes this opportunity now, if he kills Dostoevsky so blatantly on neutral territory, the Pale Flame and Three Deaths will come at him in full force, and Dazai is sure the Red Chamber won’t be far behind them with Cao’s recent interest in expanding his business into Japan. And you’ll be caught in the crossfire of all of it, Dazai has ensured that by bringing you here. Dostoevsky must have accounted for all of this. He knew that Dazai would be put in a situation where either way, whether he kills him or lets him go, he’d be throwing himself onto a blade.

Is that it? Killing you wasn’t the goal, was it? Exposing Dazai was. Forcing him into this impossible decision.

Did he really just fall into Dostoevsky’s hands so easily? Even with all of the forewarning the other universes have given him?

It’s you. You always make him reckless, his mind is never as sharp whenever you’re involved, muddled with thoughts of you, plagued with spirals of paranoia and anxiety that make him double guess himself. It’s like this in every universe—he becomes stupid, he becomes rash, he becomes careless. It’s you.

You.

Suddenly very hyper aware of your eyes on him, Dazai lowers his gun, gaze turning in your direction. Dostoevsky lets out one last snide comment, something toward you, telling you ‘don’t you see’ but Dazai doesn’t even process it, heart in his throat as he looks at you. He doesn’t know what he expects—fear, betrayal, even anger. He’s not prepared for the emptiness. He can’t read a single emotion on your face, your eyes eerily void of any feeling as you stare at him.

He says your name quietly. His voice cracks. He should be embarrassed, so many people watching the scene play out, so many of his enemies and allies and subordinates, and he’s staring at you like a lost child with an unsteady voice, but he can’t bring himself to care. The fingers of his free hand are trembling, and the ones wrapped around the grip of his gun are so wound so tight that his knuckles are white.

You’ve never looked at him like this before. Not in any universe.

He thinks he might throw up.

You’ve been mad at him before, scowling at him whenever he distracts you from your work and snarling whenever he makes messes that he never cleans up, but your eyes always stay soft in spite of the venom you spit. He’s seen betrayal on your face a few times before, screaming at him through tears when he got a bit too close to a successful attempt, cursing at him for trying to leave you, but you hold him so gently that it makes up for the harsh words. You’ve been scared of him once, when he lashed out so badly during one of his slumps that he nearly hurt you, but even then, you were more concerned for him then you were scared for yourself, speaking to him softly to settle him down.

He’s never seen this. He wants it to go away. Desperately.

“I’d like to leave,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, and your voice is so vacant of emotion that it leaves him feeling even more sick.

Dazai nods, because he can’t bring himself to speak.

He holds his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it.

You don’t.

You haven’t spoken a word since the event hall, and Dazai doesn’t know what to do. He used to find peace in silence—for years, he’d become accustomed to it, isolating himself from everyone around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length. The most he ever spoke was a few sentences to give out orders to his executives; his voice had become hoarse and raspy over the years of self-imposed isolation, unused to being utilized. But the past few months with you have utterly obliterated any semblance of comfort Dazai had found in solidarity.

It’s become entirely intolerable, the silence is making him sick with anxiety; he has hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories with you and he can’t even vaguely predict what to expect from you right now. You’ve been tense and cold since leaving the event hall. Dazai tried to open up a conversation in the car once but found himself promptly ignored. Chuuya tried to say something to you but only received the same cold shoulder. Even Albatross tried to lighten the mood when the four of you got in the car, but all you did was stare out the window with your back to Dazai.

Now, you’re back up in his penthouse with him. You haven’t sat down. You’ve hardly budged from where you’re standing near the elevator—Dazai wonders if you’re scared of him now, if you want to be as close as possible to the only exit in fear of him lashing out at you. The thought makes him even more nauseous.

He doesn’t even know what to do with himself. He doesn’t want to sit down, he’s uncomfortable standing in the living room, waiting for you to say something, and he can’t bring himself to try to break the silence because if there’s one thing he learned very swiftly, it’s that he can’t handle being ignored by you. He’d prefer anger and hate to the stonewall iciness you’re giving him.

He can’t even fathom what you might be thinking right now. You’re not looking at him. You’re staring at the window that looks over the city, he can see the bright flashing lights from Cosmo World flickering faintly in your eyes. It’s so quiet that he can hear the distant honking of horns, police sirens coming from the streets below.

He just wants you to say something, do something. Yell at him. Scream at him. Hit him or punch him. Anything is better than this.

It feels like an eternity before you finally move away from the elevator. You still don’t speak, but Dazai watches raptly as you make your way into the kitchen. You fling open the cabinets, searching for something, and Dazai’s lips part to ask what you’re looking for but he decides against it. You stop with your jerky movements when you catch sight of the numerous bottles of sake Dazai has stored in his cabinets—room temperature, because Dazai can’t stand cold drinks, they make his teeth hurt. He watches you struggle to uncap it and his body itches to move toward you to help but he knows it won’t do any good. It’ll probably just piss you off more.

When you get the cap off, you’re immediately bringing it to your lips. One. Two. Three. Four large gulps before you put the bottle back down on the counter and turn to look at him. The emptiness in your eyes is gone, replaced by something caught between hurt and anger and betrayal. It makes his heart sink, but he thinks it’s preferable to the emptiness.

“You lied to me,” you finally rasp out, shaking your head as you pace behind the counter. There’s a whole length of a room separating the two of you and Dazai longs for your touch but he forces himself to stuff his hands in his pockets and keep still. “You lied to me, Dazai.”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly without thinking, not liking the switch up. He’d finally gotten you to call him by his given name earlier in the night, he doesn’t want to lose it so quickly.

For the briefest of seconds, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes disappears and only fire rages in them. “Dazai,” you spit out pointedly.

Dazai almost draws back, not having expected that. In all of the other universes, you’ve always been gentle with him even when you’re livid. You speak his name softly, even with a tight jaw and fisted hands—his given name, you’ve never used his surname against him like this before. Probably because most of the major fights he had with you in those other lives, it was months into the relationship; it’s only been a few weeks in this life so of course-

Dazai realizes, a bit dizzy, that he’s about to lose you.

You found out too soon. You found out through Dostoevsky, through Dazai's own loss of control. You found out in the worst possible way and you found out too soon.

Dazai is about to lose you.

“Okay,” he murmurs, not wanting to test your temper anymore, giving in as a means to try to soothe your anger, regardless of how much it might wound him because being wounded is nothing compared to losing you. “Dazai.”

His compliance seems to do nothing to quell your anger from the way you just scoff and shake your head again, looking away from him. You stare out over the city, dozens of emotions cloud your expression but Dazai still can’t predict what you might do next. He feels out of his depth, in murky waters with an anchor tied to his ankle.

“I knew it, you know?” you finally say quietly. “I knew it from the beginning, honestly, but I kept making excuses for you. I mean, the guns. The secrecy. You weren’t really subtle about it. Did you think I was stupid, or something?”

“Never,” Dazai says honestly, without hesitation. He sees your gaze flicker down to the ground at his words, but you don’t make any move to speak again so he takes the opportunity to, in hopes that you’ll finally listen. “You’re the smartest woman I know. I-”

You interrupt him with a sharp laugh, it’s loud and almost cruel, and Dazai turns in on himself at the sound of it. He feels small and unsteady, like a child who’s being scolded by a parent. When you look at him again, your eyes are wide and wild, half-crazed in sheer disbelief. You don’t believe him. Of course, you don’t. It’s plainly displayed on your face. And why would you anyway? He’s given you every reason not to.

“If you think I’m so smart, why didn’t you think I would figure it out?”

He tries to say that he knew you would. That he’s been living in fear for weeks that you’d finally see him for what he is but when he opens his mouth to say it, no words leave him. Like he’s frozen in fear, ice crawling through his veins, stones weighing on his tongue; he can’t respond, and he knows that he’s only condemning himself more. He tries to force something out but he can’t even make the barest hint of a sound. The mindkiller. He’s never responded well to fear, much less when you’re involved.

You click your tongue, as if to solidify that his silence proves your point, or maybe you know what he can't bring himself to say and you just don't believe him. His stomach churns again, and dread spreads through chest when you say: “If I’m so smart, and I was going to figure it out anyway, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You would have left.” Dazai is finally able to speak, but he speaks the wrong answer, clearly, from the way you let out another humorless, breathless laugh, eyes wide in disbelief. You look at him like he’s the most audacious man in the entire world. Maybe he is.

“Yeah, I would have,” you agree and Dazai flinches. “Without hesitation, without even looking back. And now, I can’t because you made me fall in love with you without even warning me about what I was getting myself into.”

Dazai’s heart should be leaping through the roof at your confession, but if anything, he feels even worse. His throat feels clogged and his chest feels so heavy. You’ve never regretted falling in love with him before. Not in any lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The words are still foreign on his tongue, he doesn’t think he’s ever apologized to someone in this life before the last twenty-four hours.

“No, you’re not,” you say bitterly, looking away. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to care so much about you that when you finally tell me who you are and what you do, I won’t be able to leave.”

Dazai stares at you, lost. He remembers how just the other day he was finding comfort in the way you could read him so easily, knowing he didn’t have to speak for you to know what he needed at the moment. He thinks he hates it now, because you’re finally reading deeper into his soul and seeing him for the sick, twisted monster he really is. Just like he feared from day one. Manipulative. Selfish. Undeserving. His fingers tremble in his pockets, nails biting into his palm so deep that he can feel blood trickling down his skin, but not even the stinging pain can distract him from the numbness spreading through him.

“I didn’t-”

“Didn’t what?” you interrupt him. “You didn’t think I’d be upset? You didn’t think I’d be angry? Or maybe you didn’t think it would happen this soon? Is that it, Dazai? You thought you’d have more time to win me over in hopes that I’d take the news in stride. News flash, Dazai, no amount of time or charm would have made me accept this easily. Accept you easily. How could I ever accept any of this?”

Nausea rises to his throat so suddenly that he almost gags. He feels dizzy, taking a step back so that his back is against the wall, keeping him steady. Your last words echo through his head over and over again, he can’t escape them. The one person who’s always accepted him in every lifetime, the only person he was ever able to find a home in—how could I ever accept you?

His cheeks feel wet, his eyes are wide as he stares at you. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. He doesn’t even think he could if he knew how to respond to that. His lungs are burning and his throat feels so swollen that even just the thought of trying to speak is painful.

You let out a sharp breath, caught between a hysterical laugh and a sob as you press your hands to either side of your neck and pace across the kitchen. “What am I supposed to do, Dazai?” you ask, voice hoarse. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

He thinks it might be a rhetorical question, but he still forces out: “Don’t leave me.”

You scoff again, louder and harsher this time. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as if to futilely minimize the blow. “I wish leaving you was still an option for me.”

Oh. He’s going to throw up.

He wants to blame it on the alcohol he drank earlier in the night. He wants to blame it on the stress of the past few weeks. He wants to blame it on anything but this, even though he knows damn well that this conversation is what triggered the bile that rises to his throat. He forces himself to move, nearly tripping over his feet to get to the bathroom because he doesn’t want you to see him vomiting up his guts.

He hardly makes it to the toilet, crashing to his knees and clutching at the seat as he dry heaves. Nothing comes up—he hasn’t eaten enough the past few days to have anything solid in him, too busy with preparations—but he can’t stop gagging, eyes stinging with tears and throat burning. He doesn’t know how long he stays crumpled at the toilet, losing track of time entirely, a part of him just wants to stay there forever so he doesn’t have to go back out and face you.

Evidently, he doesn’t have to go back out and face you because you come to him.

He’s gagging again when he feels your hand brush his back, hesitantly at first and then firmly. Your touch is warm, and Dazai thinks he must look pathetic as he turns his head to the side to look at you. Your expression isn’t as harsh now, your eyes are still conflicted but your face is softer. After a moment, you take a seat on the floor next to him—you don’t say anything, but you let out a soft puff of air as you slip your arm around his shoulders once he stops heaving.

He crumbles into your chest, body collapsing against yours. You wrap your arms around him, and at once, the numbness starts to fade away. His fingers clutch at your dress desperately, afraid that you’re going to disappear, but you only hold him tighter. You bury your face in his hair, forehead pressed to the top of his head.

“You’re so unfair, Osamu.” Your voice cracks, you’ve lost all of your fire, but Dazai finds no solace in it.

“I know,” he croaks out, throat scratchy and voice wavering. “I know.”

And then words are spilling from his lips before he can stop them, jumbled and hardly intelligible and he’s not even sure that you’re understanding what he’s saying but he can’t stop himself: “I tried. I tried to stay away, I tried so hard, you don’t understand. I knew it would turn out like this, I knew I would ruin you so I tried to stay away, but I’m selfish. I’m so selfish, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I knew better, I’m going to-you’re going to-”

The panic is returning, the words he wants to say but can’t push out are too damning: I’m going to get you killed. You’re going to die because of me. Dazai is breathing but the air isn’t getting to his lungs, his chest burns, and now even with your arms around him, the numbness is returning. It’s rapid now, spreading from his chest to his arms, down his abdomen to his legs; it’s going to consume him entirely, he can feel it, he can-

Oh.

Your lips press to his. Tilting his head back to angle his face up toward you, you lean down and press your lips against his, swallowing his words, his air, his panic. One of your hands cup his cheek while the other cradles the back of his head, Dazai can hardly kiss you back, his lips feel cold and prickly, but his eyes flutter shut as your lips move slowly and carefully against his.

Not for the first time, he thinks that he doesn’t deserve this. Especially not now. He tastes something wet and salty against his lips—he doesn’t know if you’re the one crying, or if he is, and he doesn’t want to know, so he forces himself to move. His arm feels heavy and clunky, and his fingers feel stiff, but he’s able to bring them up to your face, palms cupping your cheeks as the tips of his fingers tangle into your hair. He kisses you until his lungs are screaming for air, and even as he starts to feel lightheaded, he kisses you still, because your lips are the only thing able to push away the numbness overwhelming him.

When you break away from him, you keep your foreheads pressed together, nose nudging against his. You share the same thin sliver of air and Dazai feels dizzy, he wants to kiss you again but he doesn’t think he’s capable of moving yet, so he only stays crumbled in your arms, waiting for you to grace him with your lips again.

“I wish I still had the chance to be a better man,” Dazai says hoarsely, honestly, gaze searching yours desperately. “I would be. For you.”

Please believe me, he thinks to himself helplessly, because it’s the truth. He would try to be. For your sake. He might fail, he might be too far gone, his soul corrupted beyond salvation and his blood black beyond purification, but he would try. He would try so hard for you. But he can’t, not in this lifetime, not without risking everything he’s strove to protect since coming in contact with the Book. He has to stay the criminal, the monster, the demon so that you and Odasaku can live out your lives here. Until Dostoevsky, Christie, and any other person that could turn out to be a threat to either of you are killed, Dazai has to keep playing this role. He has to.

You don’t respond. Dazai thinks it’s because you don’t believe him and it makes him feel sick again. His lips part to repeat himself but you only press yours against his, as if to silence him.

You don’t believe him, the kiss confirms it, and his heart sinks but he can’t even bring himself to protest, to insist that it’s true. Instead, he decides if he can’t prove it through his words, he’ll prove it through his actions. Even though his limbs still feel leaden and clumsy, he forces himself into a better position, sitting up a bit more and bringing both of his hands up to cup your cheeks. He tilts your head back, leaning into you and slowly pressing you back against the floor and distantly Dazai recognizes that this is not the place for this but the thought is only fleeting, he’s too lost in the feeling of your lips against his and your body pressed to him.

And you let him ease you back against the floor. You let him tilt your head back and when his tongue darts out to swipe against your bottom lip, you part your lips for him. He doesn’t have to knock your knees apart, because you spread them just enough for him to slot his hips between them to keep your bodies flush. He wonders if you can feel how clunky his movements are—his fingers still feel heavy against your face and he can hardly hold himself up above you. He hopes he’s not crushing you with his weight, he might be, but you don’t seem to care.

He pulls back to ask if you’re okay with this but you chase his lips and he lets out a soft, muffled noise when you tug gently at his bottom lip and bring your free hand up to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair, pulling him back down to you. You drag your lips from his to slide them down his neck to the edge of his bandages. He twitches a bit at the feeling, wondering if you’re going to ask to take them off, but instead, you just trail your lips back upward, nipping at his jaw, and he shudders.

And then he finally hesitates, pulling away and not letting you chase after this time. He weighs his options in his head anxiously. He feels like he should do something, that he owes something—a lowering of a mask, a show of vulnerability, you’re entitled to at least that much after everything he’s done. Aren't you?

You give him a curious look and he tries to respond—he does, his lips part for him to speak but nothing leaves them. He swallows thickly, eyes fluttering shut as he braces himself before trying again, bringing one of his hands to yours and wrapping his fingers around it gently, lifting it from his chest to the bandages covering the left side of his face.

“Take them off,” he tells you, voice hoarse and shakier than he would have liked.

Your eyes widen, and he shudders a bit when your fingers smooth against the bandages, uncertain. “Are you sure?” you ask him softly, bringing your other hand to his opposite cheek, cupping his face in your hands again, eyes searching to make sure he means it.

Is he sure? Dazai doesn’t know. He can’t speak again as he stares down at you; a part of him is nervous, and he doesn’t even understand why. You already know who he is, what he is, but a part of him still fears that once you actually see him, something will change. And it’s ridiculous, so many other universes you’ve seen him without his bandages and you’ve never made him feel uncomfortable about it. But you’ve also never used his surname against him during an argument in the other universes, you’ve never regretted loving him, and you’ve certainly never wished you could leave him.

So, yeah, he thinks the anxiety of you removing his bandages and then seeing him in a different light might be more of a possibility in this universe than any other one. His body is more covered in scars than not, and he knows it’s not attractive; he thinks if he sees your expression shift in a negative way when the bandages come off, it might shatter him entirely.

Just the face bandages then, he bargains with himself, swallowing thickly as he forces himself to nod. You sit up from where you’re still laying back against the tiles, propping yourself on your knees to shift closer to him.

Dazai thinks his heart might be in his throat when he feels your fingers unclip the clasp holding the bandages together around the left side of his face, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly unwind them from around his head. He isn’t sure why he’s so nervous for this part—there are no scars on his face, but he still feels distinctly vulnerable, like he’s giving you a window into himself that might reveal more than he means to. He can barely breathe as he feels the last of the bandages fall to the floor, he can hear you push them to the side.

Still, he keeps his eyes shut, counting each second that passes. He’s anxious, can’t even bring himself to look at you until you cup his cheeks again.

“Look at me,” you say quietly.

Dazai does as you ask, he always does. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens his eyes to meet your gaze; he prepares himself for the worst, for a twisted expression or thinly veiled pity, but he finds none of it. Rather, your eyes are soft and fond, tracing over his face, looking between each of his. He can feel the pads of your fingers gently brushing over his cheekbones, tracing absent patterns.

“You’re so handsome, Osamu,” you whisper, one of your hands sliding behind his head, intertwining with his hair. “Why do you wear them?”

Dazai doesn’t know how to answer that. His throat feels swollen at your words, eyes a bit misty and fingers trembling against your thighs. Instead, he breathes out, “Kiss me.”

And you do.

God, when you kiss him again, it’s so intense that it has his head spinning. He doesn’t know how long he sits there kissing you, back against the cabinets with you half in his lap. It could be a few seconds, or a few minutes, or a few hours—he has no concept of time whenever his lips are against yours. It’s only when you press your hand against his shoulder, murmuring for him to get up, that he finally pulls himself away from you.

Dazai forces himself to push up to his feet—it’s much more difficult than he thought it would be, nearly tripping over his own feet, but you follow him up to your feet, steadying him when he almost tumbles over. You bring your hand up to rest against his cheek, fingers gently toying with the edges of his hair. He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he forces himself to look you in the eye.

“You’re so frustrating,” you say softly, but all of the fire is gone, replaced by that same soft look you’ve directed toward him—not him—hundreds of times before. “You are so frustrating, Osamu.”

His throat feels tight again, the sound of his name on your lips causing a wave of warmth to spread through him, the numbness slowly subsiding.

“I know,” he whispers, swallowing thickly, and you sigh, gaze averting to the side for a moment before you look back at him. He still can’t fathom what you might be thinking and it scares him.

But then you kiss him again, your other hand coming up to his other cheek and his hands fly to your waist, holding you close. You walk him backward, out of the bathroom and into the hallway. His back hits the wall and you press your body close to his, and this time it’s you whose tongue is darting out to brush his bottom lip, urging him to part his lips for you. He does, and he thinks he might be in heaven when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth, sliding against his tongue. His eyes flutter shut, rolling back just a bit when you trace the back of his teeth with your tongue before sucking gently on his bottom lip.

Your hands slide down from his face to his chest, over his jacket, down to his waist. Your fingers hook in his belt loops and Dazai groans as your lips ghost from his down to his jaw, breath shaky as trail slow, wet kisses to the sensitive spot behind his ear. He can hardly do anything but follow along as you guide him from where he’s been backed against the wall into his bedroom, dazed and entirely consumed by your touch. His head already feels a bit fuzzy, breath hitching as your teeth graze his pulse point, kissing down to the edge of his bandages and then across his throat.

He barely even knows where he is until he feels the back of his knees hit his bed and he topples backward until he’s laying flat on it. His chest is heaving, head dizzy and breath shaky as you straddle his waist. You don’t kiss him again and Dazai wants to drag you down for another but he can’t even bring himself to move. His body refuses to cooperate, nervous that he’s going to make the wrong move.

“Do you want this?” you finally ask after a moment, voice raspy as one of your hands squeeze his gently, as if to get his attention.

Dazai’s brows furrow a bit, lips parting to respond but for a second, no words leave them. You wait with the patience of a saint as Dazai tries to process what you’re asking and respond to it. After what feels like an eternity, he nods once. Of course, he wants it. You search his eyes as if to make sure he’s not just agreeing to agree, and once you’re satisfied, you continue you with:

“And do you trust me?” you ask softly, your gaze gentle as it searches his face for the next answer.

Dazai doesn’t hesitate this time, and he speaks as he breathes out, “With everything.”

He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but your expression is still soft and your touch is still gentle as you run your thumb over his knuckles. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the gentleness you show him. You lift your hand to cup his cheek and he leans into your touch, throat spasming beneath his bandages as he waits for you to say something.

“Let me take the lead then,” you say quietly, his eyes widen a bit at your words. “I want to try something.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, guarded and studying you. He thinks this might be another first, and the thought alone makes him feel a bit giddy because he can’t recall any other life where you’ve ever been the one to take the lead like this, especially the first time the two of you sleep together. You look a bit anxious the longer he goes without responding, so he nods and says, “Okay.”

He’s pliant beneath your touch as you lean down to press your lips against his; he lets out a soft, muffled noise when he feels your hips shift, unintentionally grinding down a bit on his straining cock. He’s more hesitant this time in the way his lips move against yours, unsure of what to do with himself. His fingers twitch from where they're resting on the bed, itching to grab your hips but not wanting to make the wrong move.

This has happened every time one of you tries to take the next step, either he gets interrupted or he ends up getting cold feet because he’s scared of doing the wrong thing and making you uncomfortable. And it’s ridiculous because Dazai has so many memories, he should know at least vaguely what you like and what you don’t like but he thinks having the memories are a double-edged sword because he overwhelms himself if what ifs: what if he assumes you like something and you end up not liking it in this universe, what if he does something that you only liked after the two of you have been together for a while and you’re uncomfortable with him doing it because you’re not as comfortable with him. Maybe Dazai is just overthinking it all but how can he not when you’re involved. He wants everything to be perfect for you.

“Is this okay?” you whisper, separating your lips from his just enough for him to answer your question. Your breath mingles with his and Dazai can hardly think straight; it’s hot, dizzying, there’s something so intimate about it that it makes his body fuzzy.

“Yeah,” he says, eyelashes fluttering as he looks up at you. “It’s okay.”

You kiss him again. His lips move against yours desperately, needy, he’d be embarrassed if you weren’t matching his energy, but you are. He can feel your fingers tugging at his hair, your hips grinding down against his. Every time you start to pull away, he lifts his head from where it’s laying flush against the pillows, chasing your lips.

He needs you. His hands slide from your thighs to your waist, keeping your body pressed to his. He’s needed you since the day he came in contact with the Book and learned about you, since the day he met you at the club, maybe even since the day he was born even if he hadn’t known it at the time. He thinks his entire life has led to this, to the two of you being together; your souls have been entangled since the moment you were born and he isn’t sure how he ever thought a life without you was possible.

“I need you,” he gasps against your lips, hips jerking up just a bit to try to alleviate the pressure building in his lower abdomen, desperate to reach down and unbutton his slacks, but wanting you to make the first move.

Whatever nerves that have made him get cold feet all of the other times the two of you have tried to take the next stop are long gone. You don’t give him any time to wonder if he’s doing the wrong thing—the fingers of one of your hands intertwining with his dark locks, just tight enough to make him hiss into your mouth, eyes rolling back at the pleasant sting. Your other hand slides across his chest, even through his dress shirt, your fingertips seem to scorch through to his skin, leaving his body tingling everywhere you touch.

“You have me,” you tell him, breathless, and Dazai can’t bite back the noise that slips from his lips, wanton and obscene, borderline pornographic—if he was any more coherent, he might be embarrassed but he can’t find it in him. Not when he’s finally getting what he’s wanted after all of this time.

His hands fly down to his slacks, he fumbles with the button and zipper before yanking them down just enough to free his cock and he watches as you sit back on his thighs, eyes wide and lips parted as your gaze focuses in on his cock, watching as the leaking precum dribbles down his length, alongside the vein running along the underside of his cock.

“Please,” he breathes out, fingers biting into your thighs as he bunches your dress up to your hips, another low moan spilling from his lips just at the thought of what’s about to happen, lashes fluttering.

You don’t even take off your panties, clearly driven by the same desperation that he is as you slide them to the side and position yourself above his cock and Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip when he feels the tip pressing against your entrance. He can feel how wet you are already, so drenched that your slick is dripping down the length of his cock. His hips stutter up instinctively, but instead of pushing inside, his cock slides between your folds and he whimpers, arm flying to cover the lower half of his face. You don’t let him, fingers wrapping around his wrist to pull his arm from his face and pin it to the mattress above him.

“Don’t hide yourself,” you say softly.

Dazai thinks there must be stars in his eyes as he looks up at you. You’re so beautiful, lips parted as you pant softly, an adoring expression on your face as you look down at him. He loves you. He loves you, god, he loves you more than he’s ever loved anything in his life; he thinks that nothing the other Dazais ever felt for any of the other yous could ever compare to how he feels for you.

When his tip starts to push into your tight hole, all he can let out is another loud, lewd noise; his head falls back against the pillows. His ears are ringing, but distantly, he can hear you gasp. His vision is blurry as he forces himself to look up at you but Dazai thinks you look otherworldly with your head tilted back as his cock starts to stretch you out, lips swollen and wet from the kisses you’d shared. He thinks he must look insane, pupils blown wide and eyes wild as he tries to focus on the sight of you. All of the clever wheels that usually turn within his mind are crumbling.

His fingertips leave crescents in your thighs as you sink down on his cock slowly—too slow, it leaves his head dizzy as your warmth slowly envelops his length. He’s imagined this so many times before. Dozens. Hundreds. He has so many memories of the feeling of your body flush to his, thighs over his shoulders as he fucks you deep and slow, swallowing your moans, but he thinks that nothing compares to this, the sight of you above him, watching your body tremble and face shift as his cock stretches you out. He barely refrains from letting out a string of strangled curses, barely able to hold his eyes open to watch you.

You give yourself a moment to adjust, and when you do, you look down at Dazai. He thinks he must look a mess—chest heaving, breath erratic, eyes heavy and lidded and entirely glazed over—but he doesn’t care, not with the way your hand slides up his abdomen, fingers tracing patterns along the bandages covering his body. You look beautiful—you always look beautiful—but you look extra beautiful right now, and he thinks he could stare at you forever and never tire of it.

Experimentally, you roll your hips—it’s still slow, agonizingly slow—and Dazai throws his head back, another obscene moan spilling from his lips.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his fingers falling from your thighs to twist the sheets below him, knuckles white. “Feels so good. So good.”

You let out a hum that’s caught between a moan and agreement as you continue the slow rolls of your hips, hands sliding up and down his abdomen in a way that’s deceptively innocent and soothing compared to how his cock is dragging along your walls. His body shudders at the feeling of it, heat pooling in his abdomen so quickly that it has his whole body tensing as he tries to push it away.

“You’re so perfect.” Words spill from his lips, more of a babble than anything else as you lean down to ghost your lips over his jaw, nibbling over the bandages covering his Adam’s apple. It bobs beneath your teeth as he lets out another shaky noise. “S’like you’re made for me. I’d do anything for you. Anything. You know that, right? Anything you want, it’s yours.”

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, clawing at the sheets and occasionally reaching for your thighs, and he doesn’t know what to do with his body, hips jerking up at an erratic pace, like he’s trying to meet your pace but his body simply can’t match the slow rolls of your hips, desperate for more. He doesn’t know how you’re so put together—maybe you’re not, he can see through a blurry vision how your lashes are fluttering with each roll of your hips, breath shaky, but you’re just not as far gone as he already is.

“Anything?” you murmur, and he can feel your lips curve up against his neck.

“Anything.” His breath hitches, fingers reaching for your hips as he rocks his up into you, a desperate attempt to get you to pick up the pace. “‘d give you the whole world, burn it for you, anything you want, I’d give it to you.”

His hands slide up from your thighs to your waist as you lean down to press your lips against his in a deceptively innocent kiss. He tries to chase your lips as you straighten up but you don’t let him, one of your hands curling around his throat—not choking him, but firm enough that it goes right to his cock, lips parting in a silent moan—while the other braces back on his thigh.

He thinks that nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of you picking up the pace. His breath hitches, he chokes over a moan, stars sparkle in his vision as the tip of his cock presses deep inside of you. You sigh out his name and Dazai thinks this might be the closest he ever gets to heaven: you on top of him, cock buried to the hilt in your cunt, the sight of your blissed out face above him as his head spins.

“Oh, fuck,” Dazai cries out, back arching and hand flying to cover his face again but the hand you have on his thigh flies forward to snatch his wrist before he can, pinning it back above his head. Dazai’s eyes roll back, you’re leaning over him entirely now, leaning most of your weight on the hand that’s pinning his wrist but the new angle adds pressure onto how you’re squeezing his neck, paring his airways just enough to make his lungs burn. “More. Faster, fuck, I-ah-”

His voice falls off into another moan, head falling to the side to press his cheek against the pillow. He thinks drool is starting to pool at the corner of his lips but he doesn’t care, he can’t even think at this point, too lost in the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock fucking deep in your cunt, your soft moans and gasps, lost in the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his cock, the warmth, the wetness, your fingers digging into his wrist and the sides of his neck. He wants to tell you that he needs more but the words are garbled, entirely unintelligible.

He forces his eyes back open, feeling the tears spilling over his cheeks just from the intensity of it all, the intensity of you. You’re gentle with him even when your hand is wrapped around his throat and his cock is splitting you open—he can feel the soothing circles you rub with your thumb, he can see the way you’re searching his face to make sure he’s okay. Dazai is just so overwhelmed that he can’t stop the way his next moan breaks into a sob; acutely realizing just how deprived he’d been of any type of care or love before meeting you, and forcibly coming to terms with the fact that he is never going to be able to go without this again, without you again. He’d known it to some extent before this, the thought of losing you and the light you bring him has made his stomach churn violently but this…

He’s torn from his thoughts when you suddenly stop the rolls of your hips, halting the spreading heat in his lower abdomen desperately. The noise that escapes him is something caught between distress and betrayal, dark eyes wide as he looks up at you questioningly, but the expression on your face makes his breath catch. Your hand slides up from his throat to cup his cheek, your other hand releasing his wrist so that you can hold his face between your hands, thumbs wiping away the tears spilling over his cheeks.

Distantly, Dazai recognizes that he’s still choking over sobs and that’s probably why you’ve stopped and that only rips his chest apart more because of course, you’re still putting him above you—even when you’re mad, even when you’ve just fought, when he’s betrayed you in a way that should be unforgivable, you’re still kissing away his tears and putting aside your own needs to take care of him

He doesn’t deserve you. Not in any universe, but especially not in this one.

He thinks he could stay here for eternity. Fuck the rest of the world. Fuck the Port Mafia. Fuck his plan. He just wants to stay here with you, your lips brushing his, sharing the same sliver of air. He leans into your touch, groaning against your lips when he feels your walls spasm around him.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out, unsure if you can even understand him. “You’re so-”

His words fall off into another moan, and he can’t control his hips as they thrust up sharply against yours, another string of incoherent curses escaping his hips as your breath catches and you straighten back up, head falling back as you gasp his name.

Your nails dig crescents into his upper thighs through his bandages as you brace yourself back against them. You move your hips again—faster, this time, harder, and Dazai thinks his head is in the clouds. He’s so deep inside of you that he can feel everything, jaw falling slack as heat spreads through his body too rapidly for him to get control over. He wants to throw a hand over his mouth to muffle the lewd, pitched moans spilling from his lips but he can’t drag his hands from where they’re clawing at your hips, desperately trying to help you meet him with each thrust.

“I-hah-shit, I’m gonna-fuck-”

He slurs out your name and several obscenities, trying to warn you that he’s going to cum when he feels his cock twitching inside of you and his abdomen tensing, but you only lean down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his lips and Dazai is gone. He wants to watch you, he tries, but he can’t hold his eyes open, they’re half-rolled back as he chokes over moans of your name, hips stilling as he cums deep inside of you. His body twitches, expression twisted as he presses his head so hard into the pillow that he thinks he might permanently indent it.

His head is spinning, lungs burning, sweat beading at his forehead and hair matted to his face—he thinks he’s never cum so hard in his entire life; all of the nights he spent alone, desperately trying to fuck his hand to the thought of you in attempts to mimic how you’ve made all the other Dazais feel, to give himself some semblance of the pleasure you’ve brought him in other lives to hold him over on particularly lonely nights, they’ve never felt like this.

You don’t stop, even as he squirms and lets out jumbled pleas beneath you, body shuddering at the overstimulation but you’re too lost in chasing your own high now. He spasms beneath you, nails digging into your thigh as you fuck his cum deeper inside of you, bouncing on his cock desperately. He doesn’t care that the sensitivity is pushing his body to the brink, letting you use him however you want if it means he gets to see you like this.

Dazai’s head feels light, pins and needles pricking his body—he thinks he might pass out but he forces himself to hold on, enraptured by the sight of you on top of him with your eyes half-rolled back, lips parted and throat bared to him. Your tits are half-spilling out over the low-cut of your dress and Dazai thinks you’re fucking divine. The only holy thing in this godless world. He wants to spend the rest of his life worshiping you.

“I’m gonna-” you gasp, head falling backward as one final roll of your hips that has your clit grinding against his pelvic bone sends you spiraling over the edge.

Dazai wants to sear the image of you behind his eyelids, watching as your nails drag against his thighs, drawing red lines even through the bandages, back arching, head tossed back—your body is trembling violently as you cum on his cock, expression twisted and entirely blissed out, sobbing over his name. He chokes and gasps at the feeling of your cunt tightening around his sensitive cock again, jaw tight and spots dancing in his vision as he’s so abruptly pushed over the edge a second time, the coil in his abdomen tightening and snapping all within the span of a few seconds.

He’s still reeling when he feels you slump forward onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, shivering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He’s only half aware as he instinctively brings his hands up to rest on your hips, rubbing soft circles of your hip bones to try to soothe you.

He shudders when you press a kiss to his neck right at the edge of his bandages, and then tilt your head up to press another on his jaw. One of your hands comes up to caress the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark locks in a way that has his eyes drooping shut.

“We’re not done with this conversation,” you finally say after a few moments of silence, voice soft, breaking the silence. Dazai stiffens a bit, lips parting to respond but no words leave them. “... but let’s just lay like this for a while first, okay?”

He lets out a shaky breath, still not entirely convinced that he’s not going to lose you, so he lets his eyes flutter shut as he nods. He may as well bask in this for as long as he can, and if you notice the way his fingers dig just a little deeper into your skin after your words process, you don’t mention it.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “okay.”

Dazai wakes up the next morning and you’re nowhere to be seen. The bed is frighteningly cold next to him and his heart is instantly in his throat. He doesn’t waste a second before he’s sitting up in bed, looking around, eyes wild and heart racing. He doesn’t settle down, not until his eyes fall upon where you’re sitting curled up on the chair of the desk he never uses, eyes trained on the dark clouds outside the window, the beauty of the sunrise wilted by a morning storm.

“His intention was to make me leave you.” You’re not looking at him, but you must have heard him sit up. “Fyodor Dostoevsky. The things he told me, they were to make me leave you.”

Dazai doesn’t move an inch, throat swelling. He forces himself to ask, “What did he tell you?”

He isn’t sure if he wants to know.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say—Dazai thinks that it definitely does, but he bites back the questions that rise to his tongue because you’re clearly not about to budge on your answer. “Who is he?”

“A monster,” Dazai bites out, bitterness seeping into his tone as he leans back against the headboard, eyes still trained on where you’re curled on his chair, gaze distant. “You have to stay away from him.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on seeking him out,” you say it so dryly that Dazai nearly finds humor in it. Nearly. The smile that rises to his lips is mirthless at best. You turn to look at him, finally, and Dazai finds only cool indifference on your face; the fondness, the softness, the gentleness from last night are all gone. He wonders if you regret it, but he doesn’t let that thought linger, it’ll only make him sick. “... He doesn’t seem like the type to give up.”

“He never is,” Dazai murmurs, ignoring the brief, questioning look you direct toward him, mind drifting off to all of the Russian’s incessant attempts to take you from him in all of the other universes. “Did he tell you what his plan was?”

Dazai doubts it, but maybe there was something he said to you that shed some light to it.

“He didn’t have to,” you say quietly. “He wants Yokohama, for whatever reason—couldn’t figure that out, I think he’s looking for something—and clearly, he has to get through you to get it. He thinks the best way of getting through you is by taking me away from you first. That’s what I’d gathered from how he was talking at least, what he was saying about you, the way he was phrasing it. I’d put together enough on my own during the night to fill in the blanks. He told me things about what you’d done as… what you’d done as boss of the Port Mafia—things you’ve done to enemies… to allies. He told me that I’d see the real you as soon as you realize that the meeting he set up was a farce; that the mask you put up would crumble and I would see you for the demon that you are.”

Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tight as he averts his gaze to the window—he’d played right into Dostoevsky’s hands. He can hardly bring himself to look at you; he wonders if you do see him differently now that the cloud from the night before has worn off, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Now’s not the time anyway, there are more pressing matters.

“... He’ll come after me again, won’t he?” you ask quietly. “Getting me to leave you willingly didn’t work. If he’s so set on me being the trigger to your downfall, then he’ll come after me again.”

He would. As he always has. Of course, Dostoevsky would try to get to him through you, he’s tried it in every universe, and Dazai hadn’t been careful enough. He hadn’t been smart enough. He’d known this was going to happen and was still arrogant enough to believe he could somehow prevent it. He was a fool, and he was a fool at the cost of your safety. He doesn’t know how to respond to you, he doesn’t want to confirm your suspicions, he doesn’t want to admit that this is all his fault, that he knew this would happen and was selfish enough to pursue you anyway.

“... I’m scared, Osamu,” you finally say quietly, and you suddenly look a lot smaller from where you’re sitting on his desk chair, hunched over with your knees tucked to your chest. “I’m really scared.”

Dazai’s heart claws up to his throat and he pushes himself out of bed, still dressed haphazardly in his suit from the night before. He makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you, hands curling around your ankles as he looks up at you.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he tells you, voice a bit more raspier than he intended for it to come across as. “I don’t care what I have to do to ensure it, how low I have to stoop. I will not let anything happen to you, do you understand?”

Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but notice that doubt still riddles your gaze as you search his face, as if you want to believe him but can’t bring yourself to. A pit starts to grow in his stomach, wide and gaping as he realizes that this is all really about to happen, and one mistake on his part could lead you to the same fate you’ve met in so many other worlds because of him.

Finally, the doubt slowly clears as you let out a soft breath, nodding, and Dazai inhales sharply, laying his forehead against your shin as he lets his eyes slide shut.

He won’t let it happen. Not again.

again there was NO plot development in the smut - you guys didn't miss out on anything, pinky swear. i restructured the scene to fit the only notable scene (bandage removal) into the part before the smut, so if that felt a little forced, that was why </3 it wasn't supposed to be there. i was struggling trying to figure out how to move it upward a bit. the only arguable "plot" development was dazai letting go of his control freakiness to let her take the lead

#ᡣ𐭩 carina’s archives #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu smut #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x you

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stevenose · 2 months

Text

don’t delete the kisses - part 8/?

landing page

a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: more smut!! more bonding!! more cute shit!!; camboy!steve; reader with a vagina; ‘princess’ is used in reference to reader once; oral (reader receiving); slight bit of orgasm denial; steve tryna be a s*gar d*ddy; caring steve <3 like steve literally getting off on taking care of u 🫶🏻

though this is written as part of a series, it can be read as a standalone fic!

author’s note: we back gang 🫶🏻 i hope you enjoy this installment! i have a lot more ideas now of where i can take this au so excited to continue it :) and hopefully i will update it before 10 more months pass lmao

You assume, based on the way light filters in through your curtains, that it’s a little after 6 am.

And Steve’s still here.

He’s curled up into your side. Hotter than a radiator but you never move away from him. Not even when you’re sweating from the proximity - of being near him, of holding him when he’s sleeping, vulnerable.

You can still feel the ache he left between your thighs.

You’d stayed up for a while just talking. Admiring. It wasn’t supposed to be a sleepover. But when Steve fell asleep halfway through talking about winning his senior year basketball championship, you couldn’t possibly find it in your heart to wake him up. And at some point in the night his lonely fingers found your side and they haven’t left since.

Robin was right. He does snore.

You’re too wound up to fall back asleep. It feels like something life changing just happened and you’re not sure how to feel about it. What’s he going to say when he wakes up? What if he regrets it? And that cold, terrified grip holds on to your chest, heartbeat quickening.

Steve moans a little behind you. Not like how he sounded last night. It’s innocent, tired, small. His arm pulls you in tighter and then he props himself up to stare at the side of your face.

You look over your shoulder at his messy hair, the little bit of scruff that grew in over his top lip overnight.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, laying back down, pulling you in even closer. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck sweetly, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your ribcage.

You have to swallow an elated squeal.

“Why’re you up?” his voice is deep, hoarse.

You smile, pushing back into him. “You were snoring.”

He tickles you - well, tries to with his sleepy hands. “I don’t snore.”

“Okay.”

Steve giggles - a sound you’ve never heard in your life, one you’d like to cherish forever - and tucks his chin over your shoulder. “You okay?”

You melt into his touch. Sweat beads at your hairline but you don’t mind. “Mhm.”

He sounds a little more concerned when he asks, “You sure?”

“I promise.” You find his hand under the cover and lace your fingers through his. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He sighs, relieved. “Me, too.”

You’re almost positive he’s fallen back to sleep. His breaths even, get a little shallow. But then he talks again. “Can y’sleep?”

“Think I might just be awake,” you whisper. “But you can keep sleeping.”

“I’m up.”

You hum. “I’m not convinced.”

He rolls you over until you’re on your back, then props himself up above you. One hand finds your cheek and his sleepy eyes search yours for just a moment before he kisses you.

You have never cared less about morning breath.

It’s like he’s touching you for the first time again. All tender and reserved. His thumb swipes across your hot cheekbone and he presses his nose against yours when he pulls back. “Could a sleepy guy do that?”

You’re left a little speechless. You wish you had something funny and clever to say but you’re simply just enamored staring up at his soft face.

Steve looks like he’s thinking for a second, then says, “I can do more, you know.”

“I’m very aware.”

“You want somethin’?” His hand moves down your torso and rests at your hipbone, giving it a little squeeze. “You did all the work last night.”

You feel just as you did last night - excited, scared, sick, overjoyed, ache-y. “That’s not true,” you breathe.

Steve shrugs a shoulder. “Well, I don’t mind doing the work.”

You’re entranced. His thumb rubs soothing circles into your hips and he waits for you to say something, looking shy himself. You lick your lips subconsciously. “I don’t mind you doing the work, either.”

He grins and you feel so stupid. But he doesn’t give you a single moment to think of something better to say.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly. “I’d do anything for you. Anything you wanted.”

You nod dumbly.

He smiles a little, raising a brow slightly. “What do you want right now, sweetheart?”

You’re looking at his lips and yeah, you want those. You want those in so many places. And that tongue - a ribbon of arousal tightens in your stomach. “I want you.”

“I know you can do better than that,” he coos, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You want what?”

You can’t speak, so you reach up and tap his lips with your fingers. Your face heats up when he kisses them. “You want my mouth?”

You nod. “Please?”

He kisses them again. “Where do you want it?”

You swallow hard and spread your legs. Last night was intense but this is something else. It’s six in the morning for Christ’s sake. And he looks like he just walked out of a porn shoot.

“Down here?” he asks, finally tucking his thumb into the waistband of your underwear. “Need my mouth on this pretty pussy?”

“Please?” you repeat. You can hardly hear yourself.

Your fingers slide away from his lips as he moves down the bed, throwing the covers to the side for a good look at you. You just about die at the sight of him, hair messy and still so perfect, naked shoulders broad, biceps flexing as he props himself up. “Help me out, huh, baby?”

You lift your hips for him to slide your underwear off. He places them neatly beside you on the bed, pats them twice with a wink. Whatever that means. You laugh, taking a moment to soak in the boy below you with his charm and gleaming eyes and freckles.

And then he parts your legs.

Your breaths hitch at the same time.

The air is cold on your center and you know you’re soaked. Embarrassingly so. But Steve is either indifferent or very much into it, because he says nothing, chestnut eyes trained on your core.

“This okay?” he asks, tearing his eyes away and blinking up at your face.

You nod vigorously. “Yeah, Steve.”

He turns his head to the side to kiss the inside of your thigh. It tickles. “Can you tell me what you want, please?”

You swallow hard, hands finding purchase on the sheets beneath you. “I want you to eat me out, Steve.”

He smiles softly and kisses up your thighs slowly. Occasionally he’ll press open-mouthed kisses to the skin, watching you squirm while he slots himself between them. “Want to know a secret?”

You want to know them all. Every last one. “Mhm.”

“I’ve cum thinking about having you like this before.” Another open-mouthed kiss. “All to myself.” Another. “Tasting how sweet you are, feeling you cum on my tongue.”

You’re more than breathless.

“Thought about it when recording. Had to grit my teeth to not moan your name.”

You listen attentively, burning up.

“And I thought about it at work sometimes,” he admits sheepishly. “About bending you over… eating you out behind the counter… and then I’d come home, set up my camera, and jerk off to it.”

You’re panting by now, his soft lips inching closer and closer to where you need him. You must be making a mess on your bed.

“So, if you think you’re a perv….”

He takes a moment to suck a hickey into your thigh and you finally whine, worked up to a boiling point.

“I thought about - about it, too.”

“Yeah?” Steve sounds hopeful. He readjusts himself below you. Wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs, planting you in place.

It feels a little bit like you’re on a rollercoaster, waiting for the drop.

“I’ve thought about everything with you.”

Inexplicably, Steve’s eyes both brighten and darken at once.

“I’ll give everything to you.”

It’s the most romantic goddamn thing anyone’s ever said to you, and a second later he’s eating your cunt like it’s his last meal.

“Oh -!” you gasp, hips jerking up. His strong arms hold you in place, keeps you still while he licks slowly up and down your folds. His tongue, hot and wet and thick, soothes the ache where he worked you open last night. Your head sinks into your pillow, unfocused eyes staring up at the pale blue light on your ceiling. “Oh …!”

“Mhm,” he hums, licks so slow it almost kills you. Your clit throbs, hole clenching, desperate for his affections again. He pulls away, just for a moment, chin already slick and eyes the color of coffee. “You taste so good.”

Steve’s lips wrap around your folds and he sucks. You gasp and arch your back but Steve pins you down again. He isn’t keen on letting you get away from the worship you deserve. He pulls back to look at you again, at your glistening cunt and pleasure-dazed eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Hold on.”

And his hands reach upwards from where they’re tucked under you. You reach for them, letting your hands interlace again. They lock into place and he squeezes sympathetically, like he knows he’s about to ruin you.

He doesn’t pull any punches when he resumes. The tip of his tongue traces tight circles into your clit and you writhe again, back twisting, whining out for him. He moves slow and methodically and you wish he would just finish you off. It’s almost torturous how gingerly he moves, even if there’s a good reason for it.

Steve doesn’t want to just make you feel good. He wants to devour you. He wants to dedicate the feeling of you, the taste of you, the sounds of your pleasure, all to memory.

And then he purses his lips and sucks on your clit.

You’re so far gone. Eyes rolling back, legs tightening around his face. “Oh my god Steeeeeeve!”

He giggles, but doesn’t stop. Keeps his lips wrapped tight around you, keeps sucking. It makes a perverse noise, so dirty that it makes your stomach flip. Your eyes roll back painfully and just when it’s about to be too much he finally unlatches himself and soothes your swollen clit with a broad stroke of his tongue. He dips down, pushing his face into you to taper his tongue into your hole.

“Oh my god, oh my god, fuck….”

The tip of his nose rubs against your clit steadily while he tastes you. “So gorgeous,” he purrs, his breath fanning against your cunt. “You ever taste yourself?”

“God - no -“

Steve sighs like it’s a pity, then goes back to work. He moves where you need him, just as you need it, like he’s a mind reader. You twist and writhe in his grip before finally getting loose from his hands. They’re clammy as you reach for his hair, tugging just how he likes, and he quite literally growls as his efforts increase tenfold.

Little unhs are torn from your throat. Your eyes roll back and forth, hooded when you finally get the courage to steal a glance at him. His highlighted hair tangled up in your fingers, his back rippling, the veins on his hands popping just a bit as he pins you down. He’s grinding his hips, too, and you moan over that - he loves eating you out so much he’s trying to get off on it.

Your heartbeat hammers in your ears.

“Fingers,” you choke out, tugging on his locs. “Fingers, please Steve?”

“Yeah?” He pulls back, your grip loosening, and he lines his middle finger up with you. “You’re such an angel, know that? Always sayin’ please.”

His fingertip teasing you is driving you to insanity. You swallow hard. “Let’s talk about it another time.”

He laughs again, white teeth gleaning. “What’s wrong? Pussy’s so empty, huh?”

You nod. “Please, I’ll do anything for it.”

His smile turns a little evil. “Okay. Then here’s what’s going to happen.”

He slides his finger into you and you gasp. The pad of it settles right against your sweet spot. He crooks his finger just right and you moan loudly, needily, grinding your hips down.

Steve looks up at you with a little bit of awe and a lot of determination. “I’m going to pay for your rent ‘til you find another job.”

“But -“

Crooks his finger again, makes you cut yourself off with another moan. His other hand moves to your clit, rubbing slow circles into it.

“Mhm, and I’ll get your groceries, too, and I’ll pay for our dates. Treat you like a princess because it’s what you deserve.”

“You can’t,” you reply hoarsely.

“Let me,” he breathes, “or I won’t let you cum.”

Your hands twist hard into your bedsheets. Steve’s fingers move slow, enough to keep your mind hazy, unable to think straight.

“Not fair,” you whimper.

“It’s not fair you lost your job,” he coos sympathetically.

You shake your head. “Not - not fair you’re h-helping.”

“I want to give you the world.” His eyes are soft, his fingers moving faster, calculated. “Let me.”

Your legs shake around his shoulders. “I - but I -“

His mouth replaces the thumb on your clit and you’re gone again. Nothing but a little toy for him to play with. Mind blank, focused on nothing but the coil in your stomach, his tongue swiping across your nub, his lips sucking, his finger curling.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can say.

“Let me,” he moans against your skin, panting a little. “Let me take care of you.”

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve….”

“Say yes.” His voice is rough, hoarse. “Say yes or you won’t cum, baby, ‘nd I wanna see it, wanna see you cum again, please angel.”

Your mouth drops, pleasure and shame heightening in your stomach. You shouldn’t let him. But you want taken care of. And if he’s begging for you to let him, why wouldn’t you?

And, anyway, you really need to cum.

So you nod, mouth dropping open as your high comes to a head. “Y- yes!”

If you could open your eyes, you’d see how happy Steve is. “Yeah? Gonna let me?”

You nod again. “Shit, Steve!”

“Yeah, honey,” he grits, lips still tickling your clit, his finger working your sweet spot, his dick grinding into your bed. “So goddamn pretty, let me taste you when you cum.”

His breath is loud when his mouth engulfs your pussy again. You gasp and reach for his hair, fisting it like it’ll keep you tethered to reality. Your body goes stiff as you cum, clenching down on his finger so hard you’re both not sure how it doesn’t break. Steve groans lowly, tongue and lips still unwavering, sucking your clit into ecstasy.

You feel so good, so taken care of, that you cry, hot tears spilling down your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. Bliss washes over you swiftly and leaves you warm and relaxed in his wake. It seems to last forever. You’re breathless and dizzy by the time you’ve calmed down, body going slack again.

Steve finally pulls himself away from you. A thick string of saliva connects you together. You moan at his flushed, wet cheeks.

“You’re so good at that,” you pant.

He grins, pushes his hair back out of his face before crawling up towards you. He’s quick to grab your chin and press a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself for the first time ever. And it’s hot, for no reason. Steve licks into your mouth with it before pulling back.

“You like how that tastes?” he asks, playing with your bottom lip.

You look at him wide-eyed. “Uh-huh.”

“Me, too. Know how much I love it?”

You shake your head.

“I just came in my boxers.”

You gasp, elated. “You mean it?”

He scrunches his nose. “It’s really not that hot.”

“Are you kidding?” you whisper, reaching up for his face. “That’s so goddamn hot, Steve.”

He groans, as if you’re kidding him, and rolls off to lay beside you. You’re quick to stare at his crotch, mouth dropping at the stain spreading over the cotton. He pulls you into his chest before you can properly admire it, and bumps his nose against yours.

“You’re gonna let me, right?”

Your brows furrow. “Cum in your pants?”

“No! I mean about taking care of you.”

“Oh.” You almost forgot about all that. “It’s - you’re so nice, Steve, but my rent’s hundreds of dollars -“

“Okay?”

You narrow your eyes slightly. “Alright, don’t brag.”

“It’s only fair. I owe you, remember? Since you paid for my porn?”

Like you could forget.

“And in some ways, you’re like a business partner.”

“How?”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I can assure you I’ve cum to the thought of you in at least half of my videos.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be disgusted, but it’s Steve. Dorky Steve who’s holding you like you’re precious right now, who just sucked your brain out of your clit. You’re a little flattered, in fact.

“You said yes before,” he reminds you.

“I can take it back.”

He furrows his brows, frowns, hums like he’s thinking. “Mmm, don’t think so.”

“Well, I already came, so….”

“Angel,” he sighs, rolling you into your back, crowding back on top of you. His cock is still half hard against your core. “I can always make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You lick your lips, heart beating so fast it feels like it’s skipping. “Oh, yeah? Don’t think you’d last.”

He smiles and kisses your forehead. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

But he still leaves you a stack of hundreds on your bedside table when he’s about to go, refuses to take it back when you try shoving it into his hands.

“Just ‘til you get another job,” he says softly, holding your wrists gently in his hands, the hundreds curled up in your fist. “Let me help ‘til then, okay?”

“Fine,” you whisper, still feeling ashamed.

You both have an idea for another job in mind, but neither of you say anything.

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #ddtk

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lovelyhan · 11 months

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— game over ⟢

a minwon streamer au!

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x afab!reader x mingyu

★ STATUS; ongoing

★ TAGS; streamer/gamer au, eventual poly, enemies to fuck buddies to lovers (wonu), friends to lovers (gyu), in denial wonu and gyu, sex tapes, angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; i honestly should've made a masterlist for this little passion project a long time ago, but since we're finally introducing gyu into the mix, might as well do it now :^) it feels nice to finally pick up a series i started in january lol

— main story ✧

✧ one: underlying pretense ✧

word count: 10.3k words

summary: being two of the most popular streamers across the board, your subscribers often speculate if your constant bickering with wonwoo has some underlying pretense. little did they know, the two of you have everything on display on a single, unsuspecting twitter account.

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers but it’s the thought that counts, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, smut

✧ two: favorite poison ✧

word count: 15.5k words

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it’s in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he’s nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

✧ three: caught in the middle ✧

word count: 15.8k words

summary: mingyu knows. he’s perfectly aware that his best friend’s girlfriend is the last person he should end up wanting. but who is he to refuse when wonwoo invites him to join something he never thought he could ever be part of?

tags: established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), lots of guilt-ridden thoughts, fluff, angst, smut

✧ four: too much of a good thing ✧

word count: 15.6k words

summary: contentment is something that mingyu has never really struggled with. he basks in what he's given and doesn't really ask for more. but when the lines start to blur between him and everyone's favorite power couple, he arrives at quite an impasse.

tags: established relationship, streamer au, one-sided pining (or is it!!!), fluff, mild angst, smut

✧ five: coming soon! ✧

— side stories ✧

⤷ 02:35 | bf!wonwoo getting jealous over some cosplay sent by your fans and sponsors

if you want to be tagged in the upcoming installments for the main story, leave a reply! however, if you already signed up for my permanent taglist, you'll be automatically tagged in all my full length fics <3

#svthub #seventeen smut #mingyu smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan #fic series

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bisexualocs · 2 years

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ok i watched all the final destination movies. 3 > 1 > 5 > 2 > 4

#3 is superior imo. 1 is close behind #the rest… hm. all i can say is that 4 is THE worst by far maybe in my top ten worst movies ever #not worse than i’ll always know what you did last summer though. nothing beats that for worst horror series installment ever #lorim.txt

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jaylver · 9 months

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CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish

WARNING(S): profanities, slight violence, suggestive content (no smut), drinking, partying, sunghoon being secretly obsessed (aka a loverboy), douchey football juyeon appearance

WC: 19k

AUTHOR NOTES: keeping my a/n short since i wrote a message at the end of the fic (please read it <3). thank you for the patience and for the love you gave throughout the series! i can't believe it has ended and i swear i'll be writing drabbles for this. enjoy this long fic as the last installment for the series. please leave feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated too! muah!!

part 4 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING TO YOU NOW, BUT IT ACTUALLY WAS.

Never in a million years would you have expected yourself in some random guy’s bed, naked and a throbbing head reminding you of last night's mistake. Blacked out, you were too drunk to even remember making a callous decision in fucking a guy’s name you couldn’t even remember now. Wow.

How did you even manage to bring yourself into this situation? Well, a frat party might explain it. Letting Wonyoung and Yujin drag you to their favourite frat party was already the first mistake, but when you discovered good booze and consumed too much of it, you ended up wandering off and found a hot man, not turning back, instead you ventured into his bed. Horniness along with a pinch of alcohol could really cloud someone’s mind and awareness, unfortunately you could prove that fact since you were a victim of it.

It was currently 4 am and the man you fucked last night was dead asleep with his back facing to you while on the other hand, you were wide awake, swallowing whatever information you got from last night. You remembered him as a charming, flirty, funny white headed man who had a big dic—heart—excuse you, that was equally respectful and polite.

He was just as handsome, gorgeous and breathtaking as his personality. Bright eyes, pale skin that complimented his hair, a pair of dimples that had you swooning, and legs long enough to outshine a professional model. Hell, how was he not a model in the first place?

Whatever happened yesterday night stays in the depths of his bed. Period. Though you couldn't deny his … skills, and you wouldn't mind another night with him, yet something in you was rejecting the idea of seeing him again and determined to have him remain as a one night stand.

Frankly speaking, you didn't want to leave this bed of his at all. Was he a morning stay in bed cuddling type of person? You wouldn't know and you're scared to know. What if he kicks you out? You needed to save yourself the embarrassing walk of shame in the morning, so instead, you slowly slipped out of bed, making sure he was still sound asleep before scurrying out.

The clothes scattered on the floor were unsurprising. You picked up your undergarments and the skimpy black dress you wore, pulling it on quickly as if your life depended on it. You weren’t cold hearted enough to leave without saying nothing, that was too low. Taking the nearest piece of paper you could find, you wrote down a few words of farewell and thanked him for the night, cringing all while you wrote it. Gosh, this was shabby but it would have to do.

Rounding your things up, your handbag and phone in hand as you buckled your heels strap, you quietly and sneakily exited from his dorm room, thankfully no signs of his roommates were around. Now, the problem was walking back to your part of the dorms in the cold of the night. Exciting, wasn’t it?

The moment you got back, the dorm was silent and dark. Wonyoung was asleep in her room, but Yunjin was lying on the couch with her hair in a mess and you knew she was going to have the worst hangover in the morning. You crept past her sleeping figure and went into your own room, letting out a sigh of relief before dropping into the comforts of your bed. Never again.

“HE WAS GOOD WITH HIS HANDS?”

“Can you tone it down!”

Having breakfast the next morning in the campus’s cafeteria was probably a bad choice to give your two friends a recap. Yunjin was still in a daze, half invested, whereas Wonyoung was too invested, screaming at every detail.

“What’s his name?” Yunjin asked, taking a big gulp of her homemade hangover remedy.

“Well…”

“You forgot?” the two girls before you exclaimed in surprise and horror, the embarrassment made you sink further into your chair.

“It’s horrible, I know!” you buried your face into your hands pathetically, but whenever you closed your eyes, you thought of him, like he’s haunting you or something, which didn’t help you feel better.

“You weren’t even half as drunk as Yunjin, how could that happen?” Wonyoung said while Yunjin mumbled under her breath about not being that drunk.

“Gosh, I wonder too,” you jabbed at your plate of food disheartedly. “All I remembered was his silvery white hair,”

At the sound of his description, Wonyoung’s ears perked up, figuring the interesting part of your one night stand sounded oddly familiar, having a slight clue on who it was. But before she could actually piece everything together, your words interrupted her train of thoughts.

You were still lamenting about the possible love of your life. “I don’t think he even knows my name either,”

“Did you at least leave your name?”

“I left my initials if that helps …” you faltered when you saw the disappointed looks on your friends faces.

“I’m betting on Prince Charming to look for you.”

You didn’t think much of your one night stand after that, continuing on with your day and getting yourself busy. That’s when your mother suddenly called you up, thinking it was a normal phone call asking about you and your life recently, until she started talking about a house party that she wanted you to go to, hinting a ‘defined’ young man would be there for you. Sure, as if a hot man was just waiting for you that easily.

Nonetheless, you accepted the invite in order to avoid pissing her off and show some decent courtesy to her friend’s house party. Maybe, just maybe, it was going to be better than you expected. There was one thing your mother made sure to remind you constantly before the party: dress well. What she was hiding up her sleeve was something you wouldn't know until then. ‘Save me’ was written over your expression when you realised she had intentions hidden behind her sweet smile.

"You know Mrs Park's son is perfect, right? He'd be a great boyfriend!" Your mother swooned as you two walked hand in hand towards her friend, Mrs Park's house.

"Mum, can you stop setting me up with every one of your friend's sons," you groaned, pulling on the ends of your dress that you begrudgingly wore to appease your mother.

"Well, you're in college with a love life that's dead. I'm trying my best at playing cupid here,"

Fairs.

"Whatever," you waved her off dismissively, though knowing she was right.

Your love life was quite a mess. A jock ex that you still bump into on campus, a short lasting situationship with a douchey footballer, desperate times, and a short lived crush from your marketing lecture. Safe to say you were going nowhere and your mother was unfortunately correct.

Leading you to this point in life where you had to witness your mother trying to set you up with her friends' sons in the middle of a house party. All of which were ogling you but you were not reciprocating the same energy. They were nice guys, but did they catch your eyes? Not really.

The main host of the party, Mrs Park, soon appeared and welcomed everyone. When she approached you two, your mother made sure to pull you close, whispering into your ear. "Her son's a total catch,"

"What—?"

"I'm so glad to see you!" Mrs Park hugged your mother happily, all while you were slightly dazed and confused from your mother's words. Where was the 'total catch' anyway?

Mrs Park and your mother exchanged a few words and some gossip before her attention turned to you. "You're Y/N, right? I can't believe your mother took this long to bring you out!"

You laughed stiffly, eyeing your mother, not knowing what to say next. "I'm glad to have finally meet you now,"

"Me too," she patted your shoulder, and it was your mother's turn to speak, thank goodness.

"Where's your son?" your mother glanced over at you momentarily, a scheming smirk telling you she was planning something to get you close with Mrs Park’s son.

"Oh! He's upstairs. He'll be down sooner or later, don't worry,"

Your mother nodded, persisting on getting more information about him. “If I’m not wrong, I'm pretty sure Y/N goes to the same college as him,”

“Is it?” Mrs Park looked delighted, raising a brow in interest. “You’ll get along with him just fine.”

To say you were bored and uninterested was an understatement. Don’t get the wrong memo, the food was great and Mrs Park was an amazing, accommodating host, but the lack of company made you feel a little too lonely. Your mother was off with her group of friends somewhere upstairs, leaving you and the other people around your age to linger on the first floor. However, they somehow knew each other while you were completely unfamiliar with them. Talk about the feeling of missing out.

Drinking in the middle of the day would most likely disappoint your doctor if he knew, but you just couldn’t resist it since the bottle was practically there. You poured yourself some and took your cup outside, getting to take advantage of the quietness in the garden lounge and escaping the loud chatters inside. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once liquid courage hit and you leaned back, closing your eyes temporarily.

Maybe it was the effect of alcohol that’s making you think of him, but the image of the guy from the other night appeared in your head with no warning whatsoever. Real sudden and almost too unexpected. Was he lingering in your subconscious for too long? Had you secretly never let him go all this while? To be fair, he was too gorgeous to let go.

Your short lived peace and quietness was broken after you heard some shouts and cheers from inside. It sounded nearly like a concert or a celebrity’s appearance, but wouldn’t that be impossible? You turned your head around in curiosity, and your sight landed on a tall man that stood out among the bunch.

That hair … it was familiar, too familiar. His back was facing you and you couldn’t tell who it was, but something internally told you this wasn’t going to be a great time. He was greeting the people around, slowly but surely turning around, until his front was finally facing you. You swore you almost lost your grip on the cup just then.

Platinum white hair, a smile that showcased his charming dimples and sharp fangs-like teeth, long legs and great proportions. Mr one night stand.

It was as if the world was going against you at that moment. Just when you thought of him, he appeared. Did you actually manifest this man? It was too good to be true. You were probably hallucinating, right? The alcohol was messing with your brain. This was why you should stop drinking—

He met your eyes.

You cursed the glass panel’s existence. If only it was a solid wall, he wouldn’t have spotted you and realisation wouldn’t have set in his eyes.

Eyes widened, franticness filled your system. The panic set further in stone when you saw him excusing himself and approaching gradually, his long legs carrying him towards you.

You tried ducking, or finding a hiding spot nearby, but it was impossible for either of those options. Accepting your fate was all you could do as you heard the glass door slid open, his footsteps getting louder.

"You alright?"

Hell no.

You glanced up, flushed from embarrassment. Clearing your throat and regaining your posture as you slowly stood up, avoiding his stare. "I'm … fine,"

"Were you trying to hide?"

"I—no—I was tying my shoelaces,"

"You're wearing heels,"

You looked down at your feet, then back at the man before you.

"That's—uh—nothing—"

"You are hiding from me,"

"From you? Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoffed, trying to mask your panic.

"Okay then," he let out an amused chuckle, earning an annoyed eye roll from you. "I know we both probably don't want to talk about that night—"

"Right," you mumbled, accidentally cutting him off briefly.

"So, I was wondering if we could start afresh? We were both drunk and have almost no memory of that night. Plus, you seem cool and I really, really want to get to know you better,"

"Even if it mean we fucked?"

"Even if it mean we fucked," he repeated, shrugging slightly. "People fuck and stay friends all the time,"

"Are you sure?"

He made a face. "Kinda?" He extended his hand out, a meaningful spark in his eyes. "I'm Sunghoon,"

"Sunghoon," you echoed his name, thinking how much he fitted his image. Tall blond Sunghoon, who was a sweet guy out on the streets but a freak in the sheets, got it. "I'm—"

"There you are!"

For once, you were thankful your mother had blocked a man's advancements.

"Mom?"

"Mrs L/N?"

She had a look of satisfaction, eyeing you with a cheshire grin.

"I see you two have met?"

You exchanged an awkward glance with Sunghoon, cringing slightly. Well, you did more than just meet.

"My daughter's a sweet girl, I heard you two are in the same college together, why not—"

"Mom!" You hissed, stopping her before she ended up digging a deeper grave for you. No way was she setting you and him up there and then.

"What?" She replied, oblivious. "Anyway, that's besides the point why I came. We'll be leaving already, I have an emergency to attend and it's honestly a headache. I had a lovely time, Sunghoon, extend my further thanks to your mother, will you?"

Sunghoon nodded and gave your mother a hug with a sweet smile, acting like a perfect gentleman and almost sucking up to her as if he wasn't just asking you to beg him a few nights back.

Before you could fully turn around and follow your mother out, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was him.

"I'll see you around?"

Disappointment was evident in his voice, his smile now pulled into a slight frown.

"See you around, Hoonie."

Hoonie. That definitely didn't miss Sunghoon's ears, watching your figure getting further away from him and by then, he knew he needed you.

But first, he needed to get you to not run away from him … again.

“HE’S THAT GUY!”

“What guy?”

Another round of Sunghoon discourse was shared after your fateful encounter with him. Yunjin and Chaewon were gasping the moment his name left your lips, but you were the only confused one there.

“Hockey!”

“Hockey guy?” you were still oblivious, the other two seemingly done with you.

“Hockey player! He’s in the hockey team,”

One blink. Two blinks. Your campus hockey team. You hooked up with a hockey jock? Scratch that, he was probably a hockey frat boy instead. It was common knowledge that the hockey team fucked around often. Despite keeping their ground and being good athletes, they still had a reputation of partying and hooking up.

“What?” You sputtered out, horror in your eyes. “He's on the hockey team? The same one that has Lee Heeseung, Park Jong Seong and Choi Jiung?”

“Yes, Y/N, we only have one hockey team on the campus,”

“Touche,”

“That's another athlete you hooked up with,” Yunjin nudged you teasingly, but Chaewon, on the other hand, was shaking her head in disapproval.

“Don’t encourage her, Jen. Not to be a killjoy, but girl, the hockey team has a bad name to them in terms of relationships,” Chaewon grimaced. “I don’t know much about Sunghoon but the things I’ve heard were not the best,”

“They are much more tame compared to the rest though. He has better decorum,” Yunjin chimed in, but that didn’t reassure you at all.

“Look, Y/N, we’re not stopping you from talking to him if you think he’s alright. But as your friends, we don’t want you heartbroken. Keep yourself alert and keep your heart at bay,”

“You’ve already let him in some other places—” You smacked Yunjin’s shoulder as she let out a cackle before it slowly died down and she continued, “but you know, you shouldn’t let him into your heart until you feel like it’s time,”

Chaewon nodded in agreement. “He’s still an athlete after all, not to mention, a popular star player of the team

“I mean, look at Juyeon,” At the mention of his name, thanks to Yunjin, you only shuddered at the thought of the douchey athlete before Sunghoon, Juyeon, a known footballer all over campus for the wrong reasons.

“God, don't bring Juyeon up, those were dark times,” Desperation and loneliness wasn’t a good combination to look at.

Chaewon patted your shoulders. “It sure was. But hey, maybe Sunghoon could change that stereotype. You have him now, who knows what’s in store for you two,”

“We barely talked. He's going to forget about me in a few days, trust me,”

Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged doubtful glances that went unnoticed by you, especially when you were distracted by a frantic Wonyoung running over to your table. She wasn't just frantic, she seemed like a mess.

“What's up with you?” You pushed the chair back for her to fall into, opening a bottle of water.

“It's my parents again,” she groaned, fixing her hair aggressively. "Setting me up on blind dates and all that,"

"Again?" The three of you exclaimed in unison. It wasn't the first time that this had happened to Wonyoung, but it still surprised you everytime.

"Yeah," she spat, gulping water down. "They set me up with two guys but I've only been talking to one of them, I don't know about the other guy and I don't want to two time these people,"

"Why did they set up two guys this time?"

"I wonder too," she glanced between the three of you, swallowing deeply with a certain guilt in her eyes. "Which is why I wanted to ask—well, it's going to sound crazy—can one of you take my place?"

"What?"

Yunjin, Chaewon and you stared back at Wonyoung as if she had gone utterly insane. Maybe because she has. Her words didn't seem real and it only made the three of you burst out laughing, Wonyoung unimpressed at your unseriousness.

"Guys, I'm serious,"

Chaewon slowly calmed down from her high. "I'm not free for a date now, Wonnie, you know that. I'm busy with projects,"

Yunjin eventually collected herself too, but couldn't resist laughing in between. "I have to train for my next opera stage too,"

It was their turn to stare at you now, the decision falling into your hands.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" You said nervously.

"Y/N," Wonyoung batted her eyelashes innocently at you, tugging at your hand.

"You're not serious, right?"

"I am," Wonyoung flashed you one of her sweet, charming smiles. "Come on, it's just one date, free food and possibly good company,"

"What if he's not a good company and a creep? What will I get for emotional compensation? Actually, what do I even get from this whole thing?"

Wonyoung considered it for a while. "A whole year's supply of food either way. Just go on this date and I'll pay for your food the whole year, deal?"

"No way," Yunjin blinked in surprise. Hell, you were surprised too. Being a broke, struggling college student, Wonyoung truly had a way to corner you. There's no way you couldn't say no to this.

"Deal,"

Wonyoung's smile grew wider. "All you need to do is pretend to be me, then try and chase him away,"

"What if he doesn't go away and is charmed?"

"Have fun. Maybe something good will come out of this."

"Doubt it."

IT WAS NOT SURPRISING THAT YOU WERE STARTING TO GET SECOND THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DATE.

Wonyoung had the details and address sent to you, even paying for your dress and dinner. Now all was left for you to actually show up to the fancy restaurant and not blow your cover.

Agreeing to taking your friend's place and pretending to be her was already a big risk. To think you were doing this was surreal, maybe this could be some new experience to laugh about in the future. But at that moment, you were not laughing, far from it.

"Got your keys?" Yunjin yelled from the next room as you gathered your last few items and sanity.

"I did!"

"What about your pepper spray? Wallet? Phone—?"

"I'll be fine!" You shouted back, chuckling slightly at Yunjin's usual demeanour.

"Call us! Text us and give us updates, 'kay?"

"I will, don't worry," you called out your goodbyes before fully exiting your dorm room, mustering the bits of courage left in you all while you walked to your car, getting ready to drive to your misery.

A range of thoughts ran through your head from the carpark to the restaurant. Was he nice? Was he going to be douche? What if he was a serial killer—don’t overthink it—maybe he was a nice guy. You were affirming that it was about to be a chill night, a great date, but something internally did eat you up.

Upon arriving at the address Wonyoung sent you, you had to do a double take to make sure you hadn’t stopped at the wrong place. The restaurant was a fine dining place, chandeliers hung high on the ceiling, classical music playing in the background. It almost looked like it had come fresh out of a movie scene.

The server led you to your assigned table, heaving a breath of relief when you saw the empty seats. Your date wasn’t here yet and you had time to gather yourself. Fantastic!

Would it be too late for the regret to settle in? The menu you had on hand was wide open and shielding your face, having an internal battle with yourself behind it. From a third perspective, you might’ve actually looked insane, but honestly, you could care less. By then, you couldn't tell if you were starting to shiver from nerves or from the backless dress Yunjin picked. You knew it would make you cold eventually.

The rambles in your mind had distracted you completely from the noises of someone moving about before you, still unaware until you heard a cough. “Hello?”

Wait a minute. That voice.

“Hi?” you responded meekly, testing out the waters.

“Uh—can you—the menu—” he laughed awkwardly, sounding helpless. Poor guy.

The more he talked, the more your familiarity increased. It then clicked. That voice … it belonged to your one night stand, Sunghoon. The same guy your mother was pushing to be your future partner, also the one who spent the night with you. He was here, flesh and bones, on a date that was supposed to be with your best friend in the first place.

“Hey, I just want to get this done, I know our parents set this up and you probably give zero fucks about me but the dinner’s paid, so can’t we just try enjoying tonight—”

The menu in your hands was lowered, revealing your face and meeting his brown irises in an instant. You could tell the changes in his expressions as he gradually registered everything. Shock turned into confusion before it melted into amusement. He was amused?

“I don’t take it that you’re Wonyoung, right?” Sunghoon blinked, a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

You, on the other hand, was more frazzled compared to him. Panicking and lowkey not knowing what you should do. “I could leave if you want?”

“God no, stay. Stay with me,” he assured, his hands gesturing a little too wildly. "I don't mind,"

"Really?" You swallowed, quite unconvinced. "This is so stupid. Wonyoung convinced me to do this since she's busy, I hope you're not disappointed," you winced, cringing slightly at yourself.

"I'm far from disappointed, actually. I didn't want to be here initially, my parents set it up without my knowledge—" a sour look on his face towards the mention of his parents' actions, "---but now that I know it's you, I feel a lot better,"

Something about the softness of his gaze and the sincerity of his words made you become increasingly interested. Maybe him and this whole date wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

"You're Y/N, right?" He said with uncertainty, eyebrows raised in expectation.

You tilted your head, confused. You never give him your name, weird, how did he even know? Sunghoon seemed to sense that you were freaked out, because you really were taken aback, and he immediately panicked. “I–that probably rubbed off wrongly since you didn’t tell me your name after and I couldn’t remember it that night either, but you left your initials by my bedside, remember?”

He saw you nodding slowly, taking it as a clear sign to continue on. “Sounds insane but after that night, I actually asked around the campus with only your initials, trying to find you and figure out who you were. I know this sounds weird and totally invasive—”

Oh, he totally didn’t forget you in those few days like you’ve said before. It was the opposite. He went around trying to find you just with your initials? You were not ready to be down bad.

“No, it’s fine, really,” your eyebrows flew further up your forehead. You should be weirded out, but you weren’t. Actions spoke louder than words, and this was a prime example of it. You never had a man pursue you this intensely, even making an effort to try searching for your name alone. “It’s cute,”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I don’t think a man I’ve ever dated even did something like this for me before,” you giggled a little, noticing the flustered flush on his face, despite trying to remain a tough front. “How did you succeed in the end anyway?”

“Yunjin, was it? Your friend?”

You smiled slightly and resisted rolling your eyes at the mention of your best friend’s name. Of course it would be her that told him your name. “Right, that’s her,”

“She saw me practising one day in the arena and somehow recognised me, then she called me ‘white hair boy’ and asked if I was looking for you,” Sunghoon explained, earning a small laugh from you when you listened closely to him. “I swear I didn’t know it was going to be you today though, or that day at my house. I got your number from Yunjin and wanted to text you, but I suppose there were turn of events,”

“Funny how life works, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m glad it was you.”

The dinner eventually started and over the course of dishes, you and Sunghoon shared things about yourselves to each other, just trying to know more about one another and you swore you only fell deeper into the hole. He was passionate when it came to music, hockey, skating and his engineering course. Man, he was absolutely a charm that you couldn’t escape.

The accidental brushes throughout didn’t go unnoticed by you either. Whether it was him passing the napkins to you or just resting your hands too close to each other, you could feel his feather-like brush grazing against your skin. At times, his legs would make contact with yours, and you were aware that he was also aware.

The night was filled with harmless touches and knowing glances at each other. Once you were done dining, he offered to take you home and walk you. How could you say no to that?

"Have you ever gone to one of those hockey games on campus?" He suddenly asked on the way back to your place.

You shook your head. "Nope,"

"Would you like to come to the next game?" Sunghoon looked over at you for a moment before returning his gaze back to the road.

"I'd love to," you answered without thinking. You were already weak for him, and there's no way out. "Will you be playing?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, a teasing smile etched on his face that you could make out in the dim glow.

He parked his car by the road, walking you to your apartment with you. The sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, the occasional light brushes against shoulders kept you buzzing internally.

"I had a great time tonight," you said out of the blue, earning his attention. "You know, I thought I'll regret pretending to be Wonyoung and expected a scary douchey guy to be my date, but I'm really happy to see that it was you,"

"I thought you'd run away," he laughed, referencing the time you hid from him and most likely the night after where you left in the middle of the night.

"That was the last time," you nudged him, and couldn't resist a smile either. "I swear I won't run from you again,"

"Really?"

"Really," you affirmed, casting him a glance.

Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to Sunghoon. "Thank you for tonight,"

“Thank you too, I enjoyed myself with you,” Sunghoon had his hands slipped in his pockets, his dyed hair complimenting his features, you couldn't take your eyes completely off him, resisting the urge to start giggling.

“Me too,” your eyes never left his, and neither did his. “Goodnight, Hoonie,”

Hoonie. There it was again, catching Sunghoon by surprise, a good kind of surprise.

He smiled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“NEVER WILL I HAVE PREDICTED Y/N HOOKING UP WITH A HOCKEY PLAYER AND GOING TO ONE OF HIS GAMES AFTER,”

You brought Yunjin and Wonyoung along for the game, which you might’ve slowly regretted once you got to the arena. After telling them about the date, they were convinced you and Sunghoon were fated. Wonyoung even called herself ‘cupid’ and Yunjin credited herself for telling him your name. All you did was nod at their words, unable to deny that he had been in your mind.

“It is destiny,” Wonyoung cooed.

“Sure sure,” you waved them off dismissively, setting your eyes on the ice while the other two exchanged brief looks.

It was a while before the players of both teams filed out onto the ice, the arena bursting in cheers of support and you found yourself absentmindedly searching for Sunghoon.

You saw him looking around as well. His eyes were squinted when he glanced up onto the stands, then it stopped when his gaze landed on you. You were the one he was finding for in the midst of the crowd.

Sunghoon waved almost too enthusiastically with the energy of a puppy, a toothy grin stretched wide and face lighting up, eyes shining. Gosh, he was so cute, how could you resist him? Spoiler alert, you couldn't.

You didn't even realise you were reciprocating his big smile, waving back with equal energy and kicking your feet slightly. Whereas Wonyoung and Yunjin sat beside you, staring at the sight before them and knew what was up. You were hooked. But were they going to tell you that? No. You were going to work through this denial yourself unfortunately.

"What's with those looks?" You turned to them after Sunghoon skated away to his position. They shrugged.

"Well, someone seems interested," Yunjin raised her eyebrows.

"She's going to say 'no'," Wonyoung whispered over to Yunjin just in time for you to utter the exact word.

"No," you slipped out before shutting your mouth, rolling your eyes at the realisation. "We'll see,"

"She said 'we'll see', we're slowly moving to the light and out of denial,"

You nudged Yunjin, laughing softly. "Maybe,"

The match started off quite intensely, neither of the two teams wanted to back down or give way, instead only attacking harder. A few goals were scored before the third period arrived and the arena was alive with thrill.

Sunghoon was practically flying around, guiding the puck along and assisting his teammates, even achieving some assists himself. When the third period started, the teams only got fiercer, all eyes were on them.

That's when Jay skated past the oppositions and passed the puck to Sunghoon's end of his hockey stick, having the star player take control of the play now. Everyone was practically on their feet, the time ticking as Sunghoon worked his way through the defenders.

One hit of the stick and a swerve of his body, the puck landed into the net of the goalpost. Fans of the home team erupted in cheers, you three included, basking in the victory. Sunghoon's name showed up on the jumbotron, a loud blast of his name filled the arena and music played.

All while that was happening, Sunghoon searched for your figure again, making sure you were still there even when his teammates literally swarmed him. He never took his eyes off of you, and you knew that. You definitely didn't miss his wandering gaze throughout the game.

The game eventually came to an end. People were soon leaving the stands and you were ready to follow, but your best friends stopped you with a certain look on their faces.

"Are you not going to find him?" Yunjin had her arms crossed.

"After all that?" Hands on hips, Wonyoung stared accusatory.

"I am," you assured, smiling at their demeanour. "He did text me beforehand saying how he wanted to meet me after the game,"

"You guys text?" Yunjin wiggled her eyebrows in interest.

"You're acting like we're living in the eighteen hundreds,"

"You know exactly what I mean,"

Wonyoung wrapped her arms around your shoulder. "We'll wait for you outside, call us when you're done with lover boy,"

"He is so not lover boy—"

"And you're so totally going to take that back one day,"

Yunjin's words did linger with you even after leaving them momentarily to find Sunghoon. The secret promise you had with yourself about not dating athletes or jocks was being threatened now, and you didn't like the thought of that. It wasn't your fault for being traumatised by them.

Somehow, something in you was keen to give Sunghoon a chance, and he was only winning your heart so far.

"Y/N!"

You didn't realise how caught up you were with your thoughts until you heard footsteps and your name being called out. Sunghoon was jogging towards you, still in his hockey gear, silvery white hair glistening with sweat. You're being totally normal about this. Not.

"Hey!" You accepted his awkward side hug, him not wanting to get his sweat on you and you not knowing how to dodge his sweat. In the end, you two made it work somehow.

"You came," Sunghoon said breathlessly, as if he couldn't believe it, shining eyes staring back at you.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Sunghoon shook his head lightly, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's just sometimes people don't really care about me playing hockey when I invited them to come watch, so I assumed—yeah—and it sucks honestly,"

You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. "But hockey's practically your rock! Why would they not support you for this?"

Sunghoon shrugged with a sad smile. "Guess some people don't care,"

"They don't care enough,"

"But you do,"

Something about the way he looked at you during then had your heart beating wildly. His gaze ever so gentle and caring, his attention on you as if you were the only person that mattered. Everything in his eyes conveys its message wordlessly.

"Of course I do," your words came out in a whisper, the tension between you and him increasing till the point where you felt suffocated.

"The playoffs are soon, I'd really love to see your face in the crowd," Sunghoon fidgeted with the ends of his sleeve, shyly avoiding your stare.

"And I would totally love to see you play. Have I told you how good you were just now?"

Sunghoon laughed, looking highly amused. "Really? Stop, I'm about to blush,"

Noticing Sunghoon's playful side did warm your heart. You wondered how he was the more you got to know him. What was he like? What does he like and hate? He continued to keep you curious and wanting to know more.

"I'm serious. You were really good,"

You could tell he was pleased, smiling a little too hard. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you,"

"Sunghoon!"

You two turned around at the sound of his name, a tall lanky boy in the same hockey gear jogged towards where you were standing. If your memory didn't fail you, that person would be Heeseung, the captain of the team.

"Hey, the team's waiting, we have to discuss something," Heeseung nodded to a few guys waiting by the door, all of whom were staring in interest. It was then when Heeseung noticed your presence, acknowledging you with an awkward smile. "Sorry for taking him away,"

"It's fine," you reassured him. "I'll go first. I really enjoyed the game, text me, okay? See you, Hoonie!"

Everything happened too fast for Sunghoon to process entirely. By the time he waved and called out a 'bye', you were already a distance away. Yet, you made sure to turn around and wave goodbye to him one last time before disappearing past a corner. He was whipped.

"'Hoonie', huh?" Heeseung threw an arm around him, thoroughly humoured.

"Oh, shut it,"

"Hoonie!" The guys waiting called out teasingly, further agitating their vice captain who grumpily stalked past them.

If there's one thing Sunghoon hated, it was people calling him 'Hoonie', but when it came to you, he could make an exception, and he certainly wouldn't mind hearing you say it a million times.

"ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?"

Wonyoung and Yunjin were party goers. You? Not so much.

Upon hearing the infamous campus jocks were hosting a party at their frat house, almost everyone got to their feet at once, your friends included. You weren't exactly complaining either, the frat house was huge, like ginormous. But a part of you still remained cautious.

"I mean, yeah?" Yunjin had her arm looped around yours, Wonyoung around her other arm, the three of you making your way to the house.

"Why? What's up?" Wonyoung asked, sounding concerned.

You waved it off, shaking your head. "It's nothing. Maybe I'm overthinking but there's just a feeling poking at me,"

"Is it the 'ex tingle'?"

"I hope not,"

The ex tingle was something you and your best friends discovered, it was something stupid yet strangely accurate. Honestly, it might sound ridiculous, but to you three, it was far from ridiculous. Once, you got a weird unexplainable gut feeling at a party and guess what? Your ex showed up. The other time, Yunjin had the same feeling and her ex rounded the corner, followed by Wonyoung bumping into her ex at a cafe.

From then on, it would continue happening here and there. Once would be a coincidence, but considering it was more than once, you figured it was a connection telepathically.

"It's a jock party. As much as I don't want to pray for your downfall accidentally, one of them might be there," Wonyoung frowned, speaking the cold hard truth. Truthfully, you were numb to the sight of your ex, having to see them once in a while at a random party and them being somewhat well known, it was hard to avoid them.

“We'll be your ‘ex tingle’ for the night, Y/N,” Yunjin smiled comfortingly at you, cracking some random jokes and telling you two about the craziest stories on the way there, certainly getting your mind off everything. You were ready to take on the night. Maybe not until the point where you find yourself in someone’s bed.

The whole picture of drunk college students and randos making out by the pool already had you questioning your decisions when you got there. From your observations, the hockey players and footballers were here, joined with some other jocks too. Before you could form a conscious thought, Yunjin pulled you towards the kitchen where they had a makeshift bar, poured you a glass of some strong concoction she probably made.

With one last gulp and a few words of affirmation to update one another, you parted ways with them and ventured into the deeper parts of the house alone, hoping you wouldn't end up regretting that decision. The music reverberated throughout the house, some were with their friends but many had partners accompanying, which totally did not make you feel slightly out of place.

The corridors were littered with people and you had to squeeze your way through. Among the many heads blocking your view, your eyes caught a particular bright one, white shining hair. Just when you thought you were getting excited to see a familiar face, the feeling was short-lived after you saw a girl by his side. You knew you shouldn't be disappointed. Consciously speaking you tried convincing yourself it was nothing, but when it came to your heart, it feels like you were punched in the guts.

They were close to each other, whispering and laughing. Then it occurred to you, maybe you were just like her. Another girl he gets and leaves, moving on without any committed feelings. It was probably a bad idea getting involved with another athlete, wasn't it?

Having a midlife crisis while being half drunk wasn't the best idea for the night. The relationship trauma you hadn’t fully healed from simply haunted you, but what you didn’t expect next was the literal physical embodiment of said trauma reappearing before you. The jock ex who happened to break your heart into pieces was leaning against a doorframe, making out with some girl.

That’s a double killer for the night. Where was Yunjin’s ‘ex tingle’ anyway?

Maybe choosing to go home and blast some Taylor Swift or Olivia Rodrigo songs would be a better healing option. But instead, you decided to choose a different type of peace by managing your way through the bodies of college students, towards a balcony you didn't even realise until then.

Luck was fortunately on your side. The balcony was empty and unoccupied. There were small chairs for you to sit and spend the night doing nothing, plus the weather was perfect enough to sit out. That was it, you were going to have your alone time and sober up, hopefully not letting the idea of jumping down tempt you.

Staring into space and sitting uncomfortably on one of the small chairs has somehow caught someone's attention. You heard the glass door to the balcony open behind you, but you didn't really react until a second later, looking up just to see the person you were hoping to see. Sunghoon.

"Why're you all alone out here?" He carefully sat on the unoccupied seat next to you, testing the waters whether he could scoot closer, and you let him. He inched closer without you realising, shoulders pressed against each other now.

"Just wanted to get out of there, it's stuffy," you shrugged, scrunching your nose a little. “Plus, I saw my ex too, what an eyesore,”

“Screw him,”

“Wow,” you stared at him, a hand on your chest, feigning shock. “You’re taking my side despite not knowing my ex,”

“Well, I believe you would do no wrong, it’s definitely him that’s the problem,”

“You’re not wrong, but you also have too much trust in me, Park,”

“Maybe, but that’s because I like you,”

You froze. Literally. Eyes wide and mouth agape. You swore you felt everything around you stop as well. Did he just—? There’s no way he said that, right?

There was a beat of silence before Sunghoon burst out laughing softly at your reaction, the cheesiest grin on his face. “What’s with that look?”

“I’m shocked,”

“That I like you?”

“Yes, but also the fact that you’ve said it so confidently,”

“Well, I’m confident in stating facts,” he shrugged nonchalantly, leaning in closer. “Do you like me?”

“Maybe,” you dragged out your syllables, getting flustered under the intensity of his gaze. Truthfully, you would be screaming ‘yes’ at once. But you know better, especially when Wonyoung’s first rule of flirting was to play hard to get, yet, there’s no promise in how long you’d last. “Wait, but aren’t you here with someone tonight?”

“Me?” he pointed at himself, seemingly confused. “I came here with Heeseung, that's all,” he said, but then, a certain realisation hit him and his expression morphed, a playful smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Did you perhaps see me with someone?” Was he some kind of mindreader?

“What—” you sputtered, getting busted and instantly flustered.

“I saw you in the corridor just now before you rushed away, I didn’t think you saw me either,” he explained, searching for your escaping gaze as you were increasingly getting embarrassed. “That was Heeseung’s girlfriend, nothing more,”

“Oh,” Were you glad? Yes. But were you also embarrassed? Yes

“Just wanted to make it clear. Plus, I have nothing to hide from you, Y/N. I know you probably heard … things about the hockey team, and I can’t completely defend some of my teammates' behaviour, but you know, not all of us are like that,” he shrugged, gaze turning softer the moment it met yours. “I don’t just start something I don’t want. I make it clear if I want someone,”

His words were sincere, eyes never leaving yours as he said them. You both knew what you wanted there and then: each other.

“I want your trust, even if it means that I have to gain it, I will,” he continued, close to you till the point where you could feel heat radiating off him.

“I trust you, Hoonie, I do,” you whispered, and maybe it was the fact that you both were intoxicated, but shame was nonexistent. Sunghoon was speaking his mind, and you were letting your thoughts be known as well. “I do feel the same as you, I want you,”

You could tell your words had their effects on Sunghoon. His hands were balled up in a fist, trying to keep his composure with all his might, jaw clenched and breathing shallow. “As crude as I sound right now, I would love to fuck you again, but let me bring you out on a date first, please,”

You rolled your eyes at his shamelessness, showing the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream. Even so, you couldn’t really deny his offer either, but were you going to say that? Nope. “You’re such a gentleman, Hoonie,” you snickered, nudging him lightly. “I'd love to go on a date with you,”

"You would?"

You nodded. "I wanna try this out,"

"Me too," he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek softly, gentle eyes staring back at you. "I won't let you down, pretty girl."

“DO YOU THINK WE’RE MOVING TOO FAST?”

“You literally fucked before you even fully knew each others’ name. Trust me, I don't think so,”

You rolled your eyes at Yunjin's words, though it was mostly true. It was the weekend and Sunghoon stuck to his words like the gentleman he was, sending you a vague message: 'wear something comfortable'. Whatever that meant.

Yunjin was there the whole time trying to give you some bit of mental support as you got ready. All until she had to let you go when it was time to meet up with Sunghoon.

He was waiting for you a few floors down your dorm room, and you unknowingly sped up your steps to get to him quicker. The moment you laid your eyes on his figure, you practically bounded towards him.

"Hoonie!"

Sunghoon instantly glanced up, recognizing your voice at once. The corners of his lips turned upwards, gaze softening and arms reaching out for you. "Hey,"

"Hi," you greeted back, accepting his hand and letting his fingers intertwined with yours.

"You look great," he complimented, even though you were in a simple outfit as per his request. It was the little things that got you.

"Thank you," you took the chance to scan his attire, one that was matching the same simplicity as yours. A white polo paired with dark blue jeans, rocking a minimalistic aesthetic. In conclusion, you want him … badly.

"What do you have in mind?" You asked as he guided you to the location of his car, even making the effort of opening the door for you.

"Grab dinner and then bring you to my favourite place," he smiled simply.

"Your favourite place?" You wondered aloud, your curiosity making him smile wider.

"You'll see,"

Sunghoon brought you to a nice restaurant, one where he secretly made a whole reservation and booked a private area all without your knowledge. It was almost like that night where you had the unofficial date with him, except this time, things seemed different. In the short span of time, something between you and him brewed, and it was obviously lingering in the air.

The dinner was filled with laughter and getting to know a new side of Sunghoon. The man who seemed cold and mighty at first glance, star player of the hockey team, was actually just a softie at heart. He shared about his pet dog back at home, favourite movies and songs, random facts about himself that surprised you too much.

He was also a jokester that popped too many puns and dad jokes, but surprisingly, you couldn't get tired by it. Even when you talked and shared things about yourself, Sunghoon was all ears and maintained eye contact throughout, and you couldn't lie, at one point, you felt yourself under his gaze.

That dinner lasted for almost two hours, but ultimately felt too short. Now it was finally time for the thing you've waited the whole night for: Sunghoon's mysterious favourite place.

All while Sunghoon drove, you got the chance to play your favourite songs on the radio, lip syncing to them, unaware of the dreamy look Sunghoon casted over at you once in a while, the cheesiest grin on his face.

Sunghoon's car soon came to a stop, then he led you out and towards the place you anticipated. Your curiosity and interest only increased as you neared, until Sunghoon pushed open the door and switched the lights on, your mouth opened wide in shock.

You were in a skating rink, an empty one. How did Sunghoon manage to pull this one out? You had no idea.

"You didn't steal the keys or break in, right?"

Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your remarks, a look of amusement on his face staring back at you. "Surprisingly, no. I used to work here, and I got my friend who still works here to sneak the keys to me," he dangled the keys in his hand. "So, this is going to be a tiny secret between me, my friend and you, deal?"

You mimicked zipping your lips shut, excitement evident in your beaming features. "Deal,"

He flashed a smile at your gesture, not just any smile, but the sweetest one. The same one that reached his eyes, presenting you crescent moon-like shapes, gaze filled with endearment. Maybe because he did find you endearing.

"Come on, I promise I won't let you fall," he reached for your hand, pulling you close and you followed him wordlessly, letting him take the lead once more.

He picked out the skates of your size, knowing the place better, and soon came running back to your waiting figure on the bench. You were about to take them from him, but before you could, he was already on his knees.

"I'll help you," he said softly, and the moment you saw the genuinity in his eyes, you couldn't say 'no'.

"You worked here before? What did you do here?" You struck up a conversation as he helped the skates onto your feet, tying them up one after the other.

"Summer job. You know I can never leave the rink," he snickered under his breath. "Took up the job to coach the youths and beginners for hockey. It was humbling to say the least,"

"How so?" It was no lie you couldn't get your eyes off of the top of his head. His silver locks shined even brighter under the lights, the soft sheen of it enticed you to touch it. But that wasn't it, you just wished he could look up at that moment.

"Kids are a difficult bunch to deal with. They're either angels or devils, no in between,"

"Word. I did babysitting before and it was something I never want to do ever again," you recalled back to your own summer job during your teen years. 'Horrible' was all you could use to summarise it. "I would've loved seeing a hockey coach you though,"

Look up. Look up. Look up!

"Really?" With a final pull to the laces, he glanced up, brown irises locked with yours. He was close, and gosh, you were holding back every fibre of your body to not jump into his hold.

"It would've been cute," technically, you meant him. The sight of Sunghoon with kids was something you wished to witness.

He laughed, shaking his head lightly. "You amuse me, L/N,"

You shrugged. "What can I say? I have that charm. Now, are you going to take me skating or what?"

Sunghoon laughed at your bluntness, took your hand and walked towards the rink. There was no lie that you were actually scared to get onto the ice, being heavily inexperienced and having bad balance, that was a bad combo to have. You could trust Sunghoon … right?

"You're scared," his hold on you tightened the moment you stepped onto the ice, legs wobbly and hands grabbing frantically at him. "I got you,"

"I don't think I've got this in me,"

"You're giving up already?"

"Not giving up, just … doubtful,"

"We're changing that mindset today," he sounded too determined that it had you slightly taken aback. Your hold on him remained tight as he led you further into the middle, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he was running through the basics with you, all you could focus on was him. The passion in his voice was hard to miss, his expressions scrunched up in concentration as he looked at you taking baby steps. Soon, you were able to skate a distance away from him on your own, it was a miracle that you couldn’t believe yourself.

“You’re getting a hang at this. Didn’t know you were such a quick learner,” he whistled as he skated towards you, a smile gracing his face.

“Had a good teacher, that’s all,” you manoeuvred awkwardly until you were in front of him, catching onto his arm instinctively.

His hands reached out for you as well, his touch light and gentle, matching the softness in his gaze that stared back at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or what his eyes were expressing, but all you knew was the air between you and him carried an unspeakable tension that you were both aware of. Something in you wished for him to pull you in closer, and maybe … just maybe, he heard your thoughts.

You let out a gasp when you felt his hold on you tightened and he tugged you in after, narrowly losing your balance but managed to keep yourself steady when your hands landed on his shoulder. Eyes wide, mind frazzled as you stared up at him, meeting his playful gaze and cheeky smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though your expressions couldn’t hide your true feelings. “What was that for?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanted you close,”

He can’t just say that and expect you to not go crazy.

Two can play at that game.

“You could’ve just said that,” your hold on his shoulder travelled slowly down to his arms until his hand which you took and placed on your waist, moving slightly closer to him, all while you maintained an unbothered front as he slowly crumbled.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he grunted out, eyes flickering, gaze lingering on your lips occasionally.

You could only laugh quietly, removing yourself from him and skating away, his touch on your skin still burning. He skated alongside you, twisting and turning around, showing you his hidden skills until it became a chasing game out of the blue. You were skating after him, your movements still lacklustre, but what you didn’t notice was Sunghoon already stopping in front of you, yet you couldn’t find the right momentum to slow down. Oh no.

Inevitably, you crashed into his body right at that moment when he turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist without thinking. Off you two went falling onto the ice where Sunghoon landed on his back with a small thud while you fell on top of him.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, are you okay?” your words came out rushed, trying to push yourself up but the slippery ice only made you more clumsy. “Are you injured? Would this affect your performance when you play? You’ve got a game soon—”

“Sweetheart,” Sunghoon sighed, his head slightly raised. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” he casted you a reassuring smile. “So does this mean you’ve fallen for me?”

He was too unserious.

“Shut up. I know your back's hurting.”

“IT'S GETTING SERIOUS,”

“It's so definitely is,”

Another night, another party with the girls. It wasn't surprising in any way, moreover, it would be more surprising if they didn't go out partying.

You told them about the date, spilling what was needed to be split as per usual. But somehow, the discussion managed to last for over a few days, them still gushing and cheering you two on, already creating delusional scenarios.

"We're taking it slow, okay?"

It was indeed baby steps. A few dates and constant texting, you felt the rush and butterflies that you haven't experienced in a long while.

"Well faster up, this ship needs to sail," Wonyoung said in frustration, being in the frontline of the Y/N and Sunghoon ship.

"It will," Yunjin whispered affirmatively to Wonyoung, while you just brushed it off with a quick roll of the eyes. "He's here tonight too," she nudged you, trying to get a reaction from you, to which you just shrugged casually, but realistically, you were feeling the opposite internally.

“I’m getting an ex tingle,” Wonyoung said, her eyes trained on somebody from a distance away.

“Who?” you tried following her gaze, searching for the person in the crowd.

“Sunghoon's ex,” Wonyoung said with a certain distaste in her tone. “Gosh, I remember her. We used to be classmates back then, and she was the biggest fake I’ve ever met. We had a lecture together once when she was still dating him and you couldn’t believe the amount of times she was talking about him and saying how she’s dating a star player, it was insufferable,”

You and Yunjin exchanged a look that practically screamed ‘yikes’ before Wonyoung continued. “She’s Olivia Lee, by the way, bad reputation to her name. I wonder why they even dated in the first place, from what I heard, the relationship only lasted a month,”

“You’re kidding,”

“I wish I was,”

“No way my ex is here too, I see him over there,” Yunjin groaned, momentarily switching the subject, earning both you and Wonyoung’s attention and diverted them to her ex. You forgot about Sunghoon’s ex and him in general as you and your friends shared crazy stories over a lousy cup of beer.

The night went on without seeing a single sight of Sunghoon, but that didn’t bother you at all. A couple cups of beer and some shots had you tipsy enough to stay in one corner while your friends went off dancing with guys from the frat. There you were, eyes threatening to shut and energy on low, you could really use a mattress right there and then.

A stream of shouts and whoops welcomed whoever that was walking through the front door, which resulted in successfully capturing your attention and waking you up temporarily. ‘You’re late’ was complained by the host to the guys that were surrounded by too many people for you to distinguish. It was all too noisy and messy in the room, so you decided to take a quick run to the kitchen for a refill.

The last you expected when coming out from the kitchen with your cup full was a white haired hockey player standing across the room, his eyes wandering around and searching through the crowd, until it landed on you. The one he was looking for, the one he could recognise even in a room full of people.

His face lit up, trying to make his way to you and having to mutter awkward ‘excuse me’s, never breaking eye contact throughout his bee-line towards you. The moment he successfully got to you, he didn’t even say a word before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hello,” you whispered in his ear as he rocked the both of you side to side.

“Hey, I’ve missed you—” Okay, that had your heart exploding. “I’m sorry for not being able to hang out much, I’ve been busy with practices. Coach has been on our asses,” he sighed when he slowly pulled away, smiling sadly.

“I get it, it’s fine,” you patted his shoulder in assurance. “We still text anyway, but hey, you didn’t tell me you’d be coming tonight,”

“I wasn’t going to, Heeseung and Jay dragged me here,” he nodded to the direction where both his best friends were, currently chugging down alcohol as if they were dying of thirst. “Which was a bad idea,” he murmured, and you knew what he was talking about.

“Forget about them,” you poked at his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Just enjoy the night, what could possibly go wrong?”

Apparently, everything.

Sunghoon got roped away soon after by his best friends and you were pulled away by your own as well. It was all chill until you saw Sunghoon in a corner, his back facing you and the flailing of his hands were enough to tell that he was agitated. Your eyes averted to the right, and there she was, his ex.

A sinking feeling grew in your stomach. The sight before you wasn’t even a good sign between them, there was nothing to worry about, but you just couldn’t help worrying for Sunghoon. Maybe because you were too focused on them, and the universe wanted you to worry for yourself instead, because just then, someone bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink.

“Hey! What the hell?” you hissed, flicking away the substance on your hand before turning to look at who the person was. Oh, he wasn’t just any person. It was Juyeon, aka, Mr Ex-Fuckbuddy from the football team.

“Bro—Y/N?” realisation dawned in both of your eyes, then it turned to equal annoyance. Last you remembered, things didn’t exactly go well at the end.

“Hey…” you faltered, not knowing whether to make the dash or to stay.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile, how have you been?”

Was he seriously pulling the ‘how are you’ bullshit question?

“I’m doing amazing, sparkling and dazzling,”

Juyeon’s eyebrows were scrunched in a bunch, a look of doubt painted on his expressions. “Really? I didn’t think anyone else besides me would fuck better,”

You sharply inhaled. He was a douche, you knew that, but to have the audacity to be a cocky, annoying one was surely ticking you off.

You scoffed. “Oh trust me, my last fuck was great, out of the world even,”

“I doubt that, who was it?”

“Why would I tell you? Why are you acting like those nosy asses out there, gosh,”

He suddenly got a hold of your wrist, tugging you roughly and hurting you with his tight grip. “I know we’re done, but we could always call me up,”

“What? Let go of me!” you tried pulling your hand, but his grip was strong, and you were so close to yelling out, having a crisis internally and regretting letting your friends wander off.

“She said let go, asshole,” unexpectedly, Sunghoon’s gruff voice travelled into your ears. Before you knew it, he was standing right behind you, hand grabbing on Juyeon’s, an unrecognisable look on his face, one that was enough to have Juyeon to let go.

“I’m guessing you’re the one she’s fucking,”

“What?” both you and Sunghoon exclaimed in disbelief. To be fair, he wasn’t completely wrong though.

“Don’t play dumb, jackass. How good are you—”

You couldn’t stand it anymore, interjecting him. “Can you shut up? This has nothing to do with you. We weren’t even together,”

“I sure can fuck better than him—”

What shocked you the most that night after a series of interesting events happened to be when Sunghoon landed a punch on Juyeon’s face. A gasp escaped you and so did everyone around. The people in the room slowed down what they were doing and had their attention on the two instead. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t about to be those typical cliches or Wattpad scenes where you stopped them both. But were you going to let them beat each other up? Hell no.

It took a moment before Juyeon composed himself and threw a punch back at Sunghoon, who only recovered quickly and reciprocated the punch. This wasn’t going to end well. Unfortunately, you didn’t know his friends enough to have their numbers, and all you could do was escape the crowd to locate them.

Finding them didn’t take long when they themselves had heard the commotion. You swore a headache was expecting you since you weren’t even fully sober enough for all this and the weight of everything around you was overwhelming. The feeling of watching both Heeseung and Jay pull Sunghoon out was complicated. You rushed over to check up on him, and everything eventually passed in a blur until you soon found yourself in his car.

It was inevitably silent and stuffy in the car. What happened before this felt like a haze. Sunghoon didn’t even bother cleaning up and left straight away, leaving everyone dumbfounded, including you. Yet, you couldn’t bear to let him leave like that, not when he was hurt. So, you did what you needed to do and followed him.

He knew you were behind him, he just didn’t dare to look you in the eyes after the stunt he pulled. When you both reached his car, he turned around, mustering his calmest expression.

“Let’s go,” he said softly and quietly before reaching over to the car door to open it for you.

Now here you were, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t tell the thoughts going through his brain at that moment. How was he feeling? Was that wound on his lips hurting?

“Hoonie, you know Juyeon is a douche, right? He acts like that to get on your nerves and it didn’t help that he was drunk too. Don’t let him get to you,”

A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, his grip on the steering wheel absentmindedly tightened. “I know, I just couldn’t believe it. The way he was speaking to you, how he acted and treated you—it made me mad, and the thing is, I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,”

“Like what?”

He seemed as if he wanted to say something he had been holding in for a long time, mouth agape and was ready to spill, but alas, he didn’t have the guts to do so, to tell you how he felt, his true feelings. He shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line. “It’s nothing, I've probably had a long night,” he mumbled, which you found odd, but you figured it wasn’t the right time to press on anyway.

“Plus, I can’t believe you’d let an asshole like that fuck you,” he grumbled with a sour look on his face, frowning deeply and eyebrows etched together.

You let out a laugh, finding his reaction too amusing. “You’re jealous?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling a little.

“Those were desperate times, okay?” you said dismissively, even though most parts of it were true. “He doesn’t fuck better than you though, that’s for sure,” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he didn’t catch what you’ve just said, but judging from the cheshire grin, you figured he did.

Despite the sneaky remark from you, he was surprisingly silent, which gave you an opening opportunity to strike. There was another thing you were curious about and itching to know, the influence of alcohol simply not stopping you from blabbering anyway. “I saw you with your ex just now,”

At first, Sunghoon looked surprised that you'd brought it up, then he let out a barely audible sigh, lips flattened into a thin line as he ran a hand through his hair. "Just like you, I was bombarded by a drunk ex. I don't know what her problem was but she was having some one sided beef there. We didn't really end on good terms but I've moved on,"

He clicked his tongue, pausing for a moment. "Desperate times, you know?" He playfully quoted you, a knowing smile dawned on his face.

"And we're both moving past it,"

Sunghoon merely nodded, the smile remained on his lips. Slowly but surely, the tension diffused too, and you told Sunghoon some crazy party stories as a way to entertain yourself throughout the ride back to the dorm.

Walking back, Sunghoon had an arm around your waist, keeping you balanced as you tried to not stumble in your steps. “My dorm’s a little far from here, I think it’s at the other end? I don’t want to inconvenient you further so maybe I can go back myself—”

“Y/N, I’m not letting you walk to your dorm in the dead of the night when you’re not fully sober,” Sunghoon persisted, his hold tightening. “Just stay over at mine. I don’t think the guys will be back anyway, they’re probably going to pass out over there,”

“Really?”

“Really,”

Sunghoon’s dorm room was exactly how you'd remembered it from that night. Slightly messy but still clean enough for it to not be a biohazard. The doors to their rooms had their names on it with tiny doodles as a decoration. Hockey sticks and gears littered the area, a whiteboard in the middle of the room with drawn out tactics that you found interesting.

“Nice … whiteboard you have over there,” you nodded at the big object overtaking their living room area, chuckling slightly.

“Easily the best Friday night game to have,” he smiled, helping you with your purse and giving you his hand when you took your shoes off. “I’ll get you some clothes to change into, you can sleep in my bed,”

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep in the other room,”

You opened your mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Instead, you turned your attention to something else. “Hey—uh—your wounds, they’re not cleaned, aren’t they?”

Sunghoon halted in his steps, turning around smoothly to reveal his busted lips and a small bruise forming around his eye. He shook his head. You gestured for him to come closer, sighing a little.

“I suppose you do have a safety kit around here, don’t you?”

“Bathroom,”

It didn’t take you long enough to rummage through the cupboard in his bathroom to find the red safety kit, taking it along with you out to the room where he sat on his bed waiting.

“I’m a little embarrassed, you know?” he said all of a sudden, with you applying the gel on his lips and him having to resist the pain, wincing once in a while.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen worse,”

“Me getting busted up in games is normal, but getting beaten up by some lousy footballer is a new low I never expected,”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. Truth be told, you were ignoring how close you were to him at that moment. He had his legs spread open, you standing in between, his hands resting comfortably by his sides on the bed. Honestly, it took you everything not to go insane.

“I just didn’t want it to be in front of you,”

“Why?” you said slowly, pressing the ice bag on his bruise now.

“There’s something called ‘saving face’,” he chuckled, hands making contact with yours atop the ice bag, eventually reluctantly having to remove yours from it.

“Well, Park, I’m always ready to witness a new side of you,”

Sunghoon let out a laugh of amusement, head tilted to the side with a small grin. “You haven’t seen the singer side of me yet. We need to go karaoke one day,”

“Writing that down later,”

“You should be sleeping instead, sweets, it’s late,” he straightened up, poking your arm gently. “Talk tomorrow?”

You nodded, unable to push down the feeling of disappointment that you had to go to bed already. “Don’t leave the ice bag melting in your room!” you called out as he exited, him only responding with a dismissive wave.

Was it bad that as you changed in his room and got ready for bed, you secretly craved his presence? It probably was. Your promise to yourself about keeping your heart safe was gradually breaking. Something about him just made you open your heart easier, as if he was just too easy to love. Even when you tucked yourself into the familiar sheets of his, you thought of him. The bed felt lighter unlike the last time you were here.

Time was passing but you seemed to be awake, wondering what the girls were up to after seeing their last messages, pondering if you should get out of bed for a cup of water. Your internal monologue got interrupted once you heard the door creak, heavy footsteps filled the room before you felt a dip in the bed.

You turned around, opening your eyes in an instant, meeting Sunghoon’s tired ones in the dim glow from the night light. “Hoonie?”

He turned frantic and sat up, probably not expecting you to be awake. “Sorry. I–I can leave if you want to,”

You shook your head, patting the spot next to you. “Stay. It’s fine,”

“You sure?”

“I am. This isn’t our first anyway,” you tucked yourself in, watching Sunghoon’s careful movements as he made himself comfortable. “I’m guessing you can’t sleep because it wasn’t your bed, huh?”

“Bingo,” he yawned out. “What about you? I didn’t think you’d be awake now,”

You shrugged, reaching over to sweep the loose strands away from his face. It might’ve been a small gesture, but at that moment, Sunghoon froze. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep,”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You’d want to know?”

He considered for a second, then shook his head softly, his gentle smile gracing his features, one that shone even in the dark. “I’ll keep myself curious. Let’s talk in the morning or else we’ll be some sleep deprived zombies. Night, Y/N,”

“Night, Hoonie.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes after he had done so. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were barely inches away from him, the close proximity had your skin grazing against each other. You wanted to reach over and trace the moles on his face, to count each of his breaths and heartbeat, but you held yourself back, merely basking in his presence until you slowly drifted off to sleep yourself.

Truthfully, it had been him that occupied your thoughts. You were thinking about him. He was solely the reason you couldn’t sleep.

Park Sunghoon. What were you doing to me?

"YOU'RE COMING BACK, RIGHT?"

Holiday season was coming soon and break was approaching. You were packing some clothes for your short stay back home until your phone rang, noticing it was your mother who'd called.

"I am," you said, glancing around the floor that happened to be a mess of clothes. "Aren't you happy I'm coming home this year?"

"Of course I am," she exclaimed. "But you know what's exciting too?"

"What?"

"Mrs Park and her family are coming over for dinner during the holidays!"

Oh. My. God.

"Huh?"

"Mrs Park? You've met her!"

"Since when were you buddies with her?" You abandoned your packing, now standing up with your hand on your hips.

"Since you were gone, hello? Can't I make some friends?"

"That's not what I meant,"

"Well, she's nice and we have a lot of things in common. Plus, aren't you friends with her son?"

"Uh—" 'friends' was maybe not the most suitable word to describe your relationship with him.

"Whatever it is, get close to him. You know how charming he is—"

"I get it, mum, not setting me up with someone for a day won't kill you,"

"You being single will kill me eventually," she grumbled on the other end, but you decided to wave it off. "Anyway, come back as early as you can, I need help, okay?"

"I will,"

"Bring your friend over too since she's dropping you off. Jennifer, was it?"

"She's the one,"

"I'll pack her some food. Bye."

"Bye," you ended the call with an exasperated sigh, falling into bed and kicking your clothes away.

How were you to survive the holidays when Sunghoon was coming over?

You weren't.

The days leading up to it were long and it didn’t help that it was. When the time came, you still hadn’t gotten a proper grip of yourself to face him either. You couldn’t even explain the reason you felt nervous seeing him. Was it because you haven’t seen him in person for a while? His text messages were nothing but excitement about seeing you again, and you couldn’t lie, it made your heart flip.

Your efforts to make yourself more presentable definitely didn’t go to waste. The moment Sunghoon entered the comforts of your home, his eyes never left yours and your figure. Neither could yours. He was dressed formally, a suit paired with a black tie, hair combed neatly. He knew he had an effect on you and he sure was utilising it well. However, you were affecting him in the same way.

After your mother’s over enthusiastic welcome and overflowing compliments to Sunghoon, you and him were finally left alone. Your mother made sure to give you a knowing glance before leaving, which totally screamed, ‘go get your man’ and you knew she was not backing down.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he whispered to you, greeting you in the absence of each other’s parents who wandered off to the dining area, leaving you two by the door. “You look amazing tonight,”

“Thank you, kind sir,” your hands travelled up to his tie. “You’re very handsome too,” you’ve never seen him in a suit before, and you were very much eating up every part of it now.

“Thank you,” he said, a sense of tenderness in his gaze and voice. “How was your holiday? How’s it going?”

“Nothing much. I’ve done some shopping and lazed around, that’s all,” it was true, being back home, you wanted to do nothing and eventually submitted to staying in bed or calling the girls once in a while. “You?”

“Trained a little—force of habit—played games, watched movies, and even helped Jay plan a date,”

“Seriously?”

He laughed a little, but nodded in response, the dimples on his face making you swoon secretly. There was a pause between you and him, but then you spoke up, unintentionally slipping out your inner thoughts to him.

“Can I be honest?”

“Yeah,” he responded without a doubt.

“I missed you,”

Sunghoon most likely didn’t expect the words that poured from your lips. Hell, he seemed to be in disbelief that you actually said it. Although his cheeks didn’t flush red, the tips of his ears did give it away, turning scarlet by the next second. He let out a cough, trying to mask his reaction.

“I missed you too,”

If you could explode now, you would. The corners of your lips were twitching, eventually stretching into a smile, a feeling of giddiness that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbled internally. Sunghoon’s nose crinkled with a wide smile, his eyes filled with a type of affection that no one else could mirror.

“Guys, let’s eat!”

It was time for dinner, but you simply wanted to stay by the door with Sunghoon. He waited for you to join his side first before leaving, hands instinctively reaching for yours but then again, it was a dinner with your family around, the two of you had to be more lowkey, so all he could was retract his hand. But when he pulled the chair for you, he made sure to slyly place his hand on your waist, eliciting a small gasp and narrowed gaze from you.

Cunning bastard.

Throughout the dinner, Sunghoon didn’t hide how obvious his attention was on you. At all. The occasional glance from Sunghoon was something you didn’t miss, neither was his laughter that filled your ears or his attentiveness whenever you talked. The exchange of brief smiles and knees coming in contact from time to time had your mind on a shutdown, you couldn’t get him off your mind.

When it was time for dessert, your families shifted to the living room area to talk over glasses of wine, once again leaving you two together. There was nowhere else you could be alone with Sunghoon other than your room, so you made the most sane decision by dragging him there, hoping your parents wouldn’t think you’re up to something unright.

“I didn’t strike you as a rock fan,” he glanced around your room, specifically at the posters of rock bands that you kept up since you were fourteen.

“Me too,” you joked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “It was a phase I had years back,”

“Emo rocker teen phase?”

“I guess you can say that,” you patted the empty spot next to you, hoping he’d come and join you. “I don’t have games to entertain you here though,”

“Haha,” he said flatly and sarcastically, accepting your silent offer and joined your side, feeling the slight dip of your bed.

“You know, you’re the first guy I welcomed into my room,”

“I am?”

You nodded, shifting awkwardly from the short length of your dress that continuously hiked up. “I don’t really know what to do,”

“You don’t need to, we can just do nothing,” he reassured, bumping your shoulder softly. “We can talk if you want to?”

“I’d love to,” you smiled, not expecting a different kind of intimacy, maybe the best kind even. “Will it be weird to ask if we can lie down?”

“Not at all, sweets,”

Sunghoon happily obliged your request, stripping his suit blazer off, then making sure to take his shoes out before he lied down and got comfortable in those sheets of yours. You, however, could call yourself a mastermind. Not knowing your simple request could somehow let you witness Sunghoon in his white button up and black tie paired with his dishevelled silver hair, you created a new kind of girl dinner for yourself.

You hid your gaze and lied down next to him, feeling the warmth emitting from his body and his cologne entering your senses. It didn’t take long for you to regret your choices and surrender to the fact that you were not God’s strongest soldier.

“How’s hockey going?” you broke the ice (pun intended) first, turning your head a little to sneak a peek of him.

“It’s alright, I suppose?” you felt him shrugging beside you, shoulders brushing against yours for the millionth time. At this point, he should just hold your hand, and you’re also going to pretend you never thought of what you just said. “There was this crazy time a few games back where Heeseung fought someone. I wasn’t surprise that he did since he tends to pull this type of shit but wow,”

You let out a scoff in disbelief and surprise. The sweet looking captain was a hothead on ice? You couldn’t believe that. “What for?”

“Someone talked shit about his now girlfriend, which was totally reasonable for him to punch the guy honestly,”

“It is! Go him,” you said in awe, reaching over to poke his cheek, which obviously startled him before he relaxed into your touch. “Tell me more hockey stories, there’s probably lots of drama, right?”

“Where do I begin?”

Time passed too fast with the way Sunghoon told his stories and you hated the fact that it did. All of the stories he told were extra entertaining when he flailed his hands around dramatically, making sound effects and even acting them out, increasing your adoration for him unknowingly. He was just so cute. But then again, fun didn’t last long when it reached the end of the night and the Park family was ready to leave for home.

You were bidding his parents goodbye before you reached him, standing by the door the same as earlier, having the same emotions and mirroring the same smiles. Secretly, you didn’t want him to leave. What you didn’t know was neither did he, he wished to have you laughing next to him again.

“Thanks for having me tonight,” he said, suit blazer held in one hand. “And especially for your room tour, I loved those posters,”

You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m glad you were here tonight,”

Somehow, in your words, it spoke much more than it had been said. The emotions conveyed from it was just enough for him to know, to realise.

“I’m glad you were with me too.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SAW SUNGHOON PARTYING WITH A GIRL?”

You swore a blood vessel was about to burst on a Saturday morning.

“I was sober, alright? And if you guys were with me yesterday, you would’ve known,” Yunjin took a sip out of her specially made hangover cure, wincing for a second.

“You know we’re not falling for that,” Wonyoung bit back, leaning in with a questioning look. “Now spill,”

“I saw him yesterday at the party with this girl, got pretty handsy and really close, I’m not sure if they kissed or anything,”

“What happened after?” you asked out of curiosity, slowly losing the war of not giving a fuck.

“I don’t know, didn’t see them,”

Wonyoung gasped under her breath, raising her eyebrows. “That bitch,”

Yunjin shrugged, finishing the last of her drink. “Well, it’s not the best to write him off that quick,”

“I mean, we’re not even dating, he can do whatever he wants,”

“Don’t pull that card here please,” Yunjin had her hand up, both her and Wonyoung staring at you like hawks. “You can’t pretend you two don’t have the hots for each other,”

“Well, you’re not wrong,”

“We know, love,” Wonyoung’s smile turned sinister, a plan already up her sleeve, an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Which is why, you should go on a date,”

“What?”

“Oh my god, spite him,” Yunjin jumped on Wonyoung’s idea almost immediately. “Go text him you’re getting ready for a date or something, make him jealous,”

“He’ll come running, trust me,” Wonyoung clapped her hands, already scheming up a master plan. “I have a candidate in mind, he’s a friend of mine,”

You and Yunjin looked at Wonyoung expectantly, her smile turning into a smirk. “A player from a rival team. Eric Sohn.”

If there was something Yunjin and Wonyoung excelled at, it was being masterminds. You couldn't believe you got yourself roped into this plan of theirs, but maybe you just needed a small push, and so did Sunghoon.

First step: tell him about your date plans.

hooners: you're going on a date?

you: yeah :// wonyoung set me up with this guy

hooners: i seee, where are you having it?

you: at the place nearby, Atelier I think?

hooners: ooo, have fun!

'Have fun' was definitely typed with zero genuinity, which also meant your plan was working.

“He's taking the bait. Now, onto the date,”

Eric was a nice guy. You didn't know what Wonyoung managed to bribe him with but surprisingly, he was willing to go out on a date, except he didn't know it was a plan to make his hockey rival jealous. Awkward.

The next step that Wonyoung claimed would be helpful was taking pictures to post on your Instagram after. A picture on your story would be enough to spur him and get him texting you back, or so she claimed.

Eric was in the middle of telling you about his course and his random hockey stories when he paused out of nowhere. His gaze averted over your head to somewhere else, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I—uhm—Y/N, is that someone you know? He won’t stop staring,”

You turned your head around, following Eric's gaze only to find Sunghoon looking back at you.

This wasn't part of the plan.

He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk greeted you. Both of his friends Jay and Heeseung were accompanying him too, but unlike him, they seemed clueless to the fact that you were there.

You stiffly turned back to face Eric, nodding slowly. “It's … complicated, don't mind him or his friends. How's your pasta?”

It would've been easy to ignore Sunghoon if only he wasn't staring at you from time to time and you could feel his burning gaze. He was purposely making this hard for you and you were pissed that the plan was somehow backfiring. So, while Eric was taking his toilet break, you took the chance to text Sunghoon, typing rather angrily.

you: what are you doing here?

hooners: out for dinner with the boys

you: HERE?

hooners: what’s wrong with this place? is the food bad?

He’s got to be kidding.

you: you know what i mean

you: i’m going to strangle you!!!!

hooners: yeah? what else?

You glanced up from your phone, whipping your head to the table he was sitting at, scoffing in disbelief. Trying to continue the last hours of your date was about to be a challenge for you and you were going to be a fighter even if it meant you were crumbling internally.

Ignoring the obvious presence in the room was hard, but despite that, you managed to end your date successfully. You were mentally clapping yourself on the back and cheering happily. Eric, being the sweet gentleman he was, offered to drive you back, but you declined, instead, bidding him goodbye with a friendly hug.

You watched as he drove off, finally being left alone outside the restaurant’s parking lot, or so you thought.

“That was something,”

Park. Sunghoon.

“Mind explaining why you came here crashing my date?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘crashing’,”

“Really?” you stared accusingly at him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Sunghoon coughed, adjusted his posture and put on a serious expression. “Well, that’s b–because I wanted to check up on you in case—I don’t know—something goes wrong. I know when someone’s an asshole and I don’t want you dating an asshole,”

“Thanks? He was actually such a sweetheart,”

You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Why’re you out on a date anyway?”

“It just happened,” you shrugged, playing nonchalant even though you were feeling the opposite of that. “Why were you getting handsy with a girl yesterday?”

Sunghoon blinked, then again before realisation dawned on him. “Are you jealous?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am. Now, don’t try changing the subject,”

For a moment, his straightforwardness caught you off guard and made you pause. His bluntness was something you’d always be surprised of. You kissed your teeth, heaving a breath in. “Fine, I am. I know you don’t owe me anything since we’re not official or whatever, but I didn’t expect you out there dancing with another girl … I thought I meant something to you,”

“You do! You mean more than just something to me, Y/N,” Sunghoon bursted out, his desperate eyes searching for yours. “Gods, I got drunk yesterday and I admit, we danced a little too … close, but after that I tried brushing her off before it escalated. I left before anything else happened, which meant nothing happened at all, seriously,”

Were you feeling stupid? Very much so. But were you somewhat glad? You were. Misunderstandings were going to be the death of you always.

“I’d never lie to you, Y/N, never in a million years” he continued on, stepping closer to test the waters. You gave him the greenlight.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out as you felt him engulfing you in a hug, melting into his touch. “I can’t believe I’m overreacting,”

“You’re not. I would’ve reacted the same, except I wouldn’t have the balls to tell you,” he rubbed your back in comfort and reassurance, your embarrassment soon dissipated and you laughed quietly at what he said.

“Just like today?”

“Kinda?” He was still stubborn enough to not admit it.

You slowly pulled away, but his hands were still around your waist, holding you close to him. “I trust you, Hoonie. I’m sorry I doubted you for a second,”

“You’re okay, Y/N, really. I know I’ve still yet to fully gain your trust and I get it. You’ve gotten hurt in the past, I know, but I promise I won’t do the same. You have to let me into your heart just as much as I do,”

“Oh Hoonie,” you said softly, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him back into a hug, both of your hearts fluttering without each other’s knowledge. “I promise I will.”

At that point, you’ve unknowingly already given up your heart to the man before you, surrendering to him. Because you, too, were willing to give up anything for him, just the same as he felt.

“SO, YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SUNGHOON IN A WHILE?”

Being back home when your parents were away on vacation was a relaxing time for you. Spring break came sooner than you expected. Not only did you get the place to yourself, but also the car for you to drive yourself in and out at any time now that you’re home. It was heavenly.

Wonyoung stopped by for a visit to keep you company, and you expected some chill time together by painting nails, watching movies, singing karaoke, but no, instead, she started digging Sunghoon related information from you. What was her objective? To get to the bottom of why you and Sunghoon weren’t making any advancements, especially in recent weeks of no updates.

“I’ve been busy, he’s been busy, so I guess that’s why,” you mumbled, not realising how disappointing it was until you’ve said it out loud. The text messages he sent were getting less, the times you’ve met up weren’t much. You were pushing these feelings and thoughts down without knowing, finally revealing them now when Wonyoung brought it up. “I feel like he’s avoiding me, actually,”

“What makes you think that?”

“We always have dinner together every Friday, or we try to eat together at least once a week, but lately, he’s been saying that he’s busy. Then, the other time I saw him, he just waved and dashed away, that’s all. We’ve been texting but it felt less than usual,”

“Oh, Y/N,” Wonyoung wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in. “Maybe he’s going through something. I say, give it a little more time, and if it’s still like this, go confront him. There’s nothing better than communication and talking it out,”

“You’re right, maybe I just find him soon,”

“But first, you need some self healing. Come on, let’s watch some movies and put on facial masks,”

Dusk soon fell upon the skies and you ended the day off with another classic 2000s movie playing in the background. Wonyoung was busy showering while you lounge comfortably on the couch, unaware of what’s happening miles away until you heard your phone buzzing with continuous notifications.

jay: Y/N!!! are you here tonight?

you: JAY!!! and where is ‘here’ supposed to be?

jay: the arena duhhh, there’s a game tonight, but it ended already

jay: we won btw ;)

you: really? i wasn’t told of it :(( but yayy! congrats!

jay: thank you! and huh? i thought hoon would’ve told you

you: he didn’t …

jay: speaking of hoon, the thing is … he’s been acting strange all game and idk what’s up with him

you: ?

jay: it’s weird. he’s been very aggressive tonight and that’s so unlike him. he’s not the type to be like this

jay: did something happen between you two? he’s been a little off lately

you: i don’t know too jay, that’s the problem i’ve been facing too

Jay's messages kept circling your mind endlessly even after Wonyoung left and you were ready to call it a night. It wasn't a coincidence that even Sunghoon's best friend found his behaviour odd, something must've been wrong.

You were in bed, snugged in your blankets, phone in one hand scrolling through your Instagram feed, but you couldn't stop the feeling that itched you. Rather than going to sleep, you couldn't help pressing into the messaging app, silently hoping for a notification to pop up from someone.

Sighing deeply, you gave up your last piece of hope and decided to ignore the distress you were feeling. Turning around and calling it a night, you didn't expect your wishes to be heard right at that moment.

Ding.

It came from your phone.

In a blink of an eye, you got up immediately and let the bright light of your phone disorient your eyes.

hooners: are you up?

hooners: i'm outside right now

Outside? Where?

hooners: your house btw

No way.

You scrambled out of bed, almost tripping in your steps and raced to your window looking like a crazed person. There he was, Park Sunghoon, flesh and bones, anxiously waiting by his car and taking peeks at your window, not noticing you.

In those years of living in your house, you've never run down the stairs as fast as you've just done. Swinging the door open, you faced the white headed hockey player.

"Y/N," he started, moving closer, though hesitant.

"Sunghoon,"

His actual name sounded foreign from you, and it only made him realise how much he’s fucked up, but somehow, hearing you say his name brought him comfort after the time away from you. Maybe he was just insane but who knows.

“What are you doing here? It's late,” you continued, nerves creeping up on you.

“I wanted to come see you,”

Now he’s done it.

“After avoiding me for weeks on end?”

“I wasn’t—” Sunghoon’s first instinct was to defend himself, but then he realised that you had a point, and in fact, he was the idiot here. Not to mention, an asshole too.

Your grip on the door tightened, an unexpected feeling of frustration welled up. “You sure? Look, Hoon, I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but it feels like you're pushing me away gradually. Maybe it isn't obvious, but it's the little things … and it hurts,”

“I know that I've been an asshole, and that I've been treating you unfairly, but there's just so many things going on in my head right now,”

“You don't get to do that,” you murmured, shaking your head and not believing the excuse he gave, one that you've heard many times from others. “Tell them to me, then! I'm here, Hoon, I'm always here if you need me. Don't push me away, please,”

Sunghoon was dying internally from the stupidest excuses he gave, and after hearing the desperation in your voice, he swore he was about to break soon. “I can't tell you about them,” he said quietly, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

“Why not?” Your frustration grew, stubbornness evident, meanwhile his patience thinned. “You told me to trust you and I do, but do you not trust me? Why can't you let me in your heart?”

“It's not that … not at all … no,”

“Then what is it?!”

“God—It's because I like you! I'm in love with you, Y/N,”

Love?

“It’s not that I’m not letting you in my heart, it’s just—” Sunghoon’s resolve was breaking, he simply couldn’t bear holding in the truth anymore, showing his vulnerability, “—I’m scared,”

You were stunned to say the least, but you kept silent, letting him continue.

“Over the past weeks, I’ve been figuring out what my feelings were, I wanted to make things clear. At one point, I just wanted to reveal it all to you, but everytime I see you I feel like I'm about to burst,” he ran a hand through his hair out of habit, clearly distressed, “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was scared I’ll fuck up, but in those days, I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you too,”

“I was a mess and I didn’t want you to see me like this, I’m sorry,” he took a step closer, your hand wanted to reach out for him, but you found yourself frozen in place. “I couldn’t get you off my mind all game. I knew I just had to tell you tonight,”

You didn’t know what to say. He liked you? Wait, no—he’s in love with you. The best part was that you felt the same, but were you also angry at him? You were.

“You’re so stupid,” you punched his shoulder, gaze narrowed at him after a solid minute of taking everything in. “I can’t believe you were avoiding me,” you mumbled, your rage dissolving into affection, your heart melting and you felt light headed. “But I understand, Hoon, I just wished you didn’t push me away,”

“I know,” he closed the space in between and pulled you close, hugging you and practically caged you in his arms, not that you were complaining. “I’m sorry,”

“I forgive you,” you ran your hand on his back in an attempt to reassure him. “I like you too, Hoonie, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you could feel his smile. “You always know what I’m thinking,”

“Hold on,” you pulled away slowly, your hand absentmindedly travelling to the back of his neck. “Does this—are we—”

“Officially together?” he finished your sentence, causing you to break into an amused smile. “I've been dying to ask this for a long time—well, Y/N, can I be your boyfriend?”

“You’re so cheesy!” you hit his chest, bursting out laughing and your laughs became infectious, resulting in him doing the same. “Yes, Park, I’d love to be your girlfriend,”

“So … as my girlfriend, can I kiss you right now?”

“Say less,”

The moment you crashed your lips onto his, you swore you saw stars. His lips melted softly against yours perfectly. Without thinking, your hands pulled him in with force and your skilled effort managed to close the door behind you, only giving Sunghoon the chance to push you against it immediately.

He let out a soft groan which only sent butterflies down in your abdomen (plus somewhere else that you wouldn't admit there and then), his hands exploring the span of your body just as much as yours did to him. Knowing that you liked him back and getting to kiss you after months of pining had Sunghoon feeling as if he was on top of the world, he just couldn't get enough especially when he hasn't been close to you for weeks.

By the time you two pulled away from one another, you were both breathless and a panting mess, you were craving for him still and the fire burning in his eyes was enough to tell you that he felt the same. His hand travelled up to your cheek, gaze flickering between your irises to your lips, the tension thick enough for you to suffocate in.

“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered, both your lips lingering close enough to brush against each other, and it totally drove you insane knowing he was doing this on purpose.

You nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘yes’ and Sunghoon had never been more relieved, practically chasing after your lips as he dove back in and kissed you once more. He tilted his head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, pouring his utmost love, desperation and devotion into it, conveying an unspoken truth of affection and pining he had for you.

The night might’ve turned into a blur but it was one where you didn’t want to leave each other’s side. ‘Can you stay over tonight’ was answered with a yes and you welcomed him into your bed, staying up pouring secrets and your hidden truths.

What started as an impulsive and reckless night together turned into a blossoming love that you were hoping and dying to keep. A love that you were sure would last for evermore.

IT WAS NO SECRET THAT YOU AND SUNGHOON LOVED EACH OTHER TILL THE POINT WHERE IT WAS SICKENING TO OTHERS. YOU TWO MADE THAT VERY CLEAR AND OVERLY OBVIOUS.

Yunjin and Wonyoung were accepting of him, especially after he paid for your meals with them that definitely won them over. What could you say? You and your friends were suckers for free food and little things. His friends were equally friendly and chill, welcoming you to their gatherings and games.

But other than that, both sides were also increasingly sick of you two, in an affectionate way of course. Maybe they didn’t say it, but they were. Wherever you went, he followed; wherever he went, you followed. You were simply stuck to the hip. So, in their defence, you two resembled a lovesick couple that was still in their honeymoon phase except that phase lasted for almost a year. It was rather insufferable in the beginning, but after months towards a year, they’ve gotten used to it and found it sweet instead.

Example A. At any given chance, your name would be mentioned and so would his. Sunghoon would be caught giggling at his phone pre games in the locker room, sporting your hairband on his wrist and even having a necklace with your initials on it, claiming that it was his lucky charm. Whenever he brought you round to dinners with his best friends and their partners, you and him practically blinded the rest with the amount of love you had for one another. It couldn’t be described, it was all in the gazes and small touches that conveyed the message. Unaware about it, you and him were oblivious and trapped in your bubble.

Example B. You were just as obnoxious as him. Having a picture of him as your wallpaper and creating playlists for him, your friends were gasping at the way you were acting. Hoonie this and Hoonie that, you almost became your mother. Safe to say, you were both made for each other with the same level of obsession and delusions. Your friends were happy for you two nevertheless, and they were mostly glad that you managed to find someone compatible.

Speaking of your mother, the time when you broke the news to her, you knew she would be elated, and she was. The first time you brought him back home, your mother greeted him with wide open arms, having the best dinner ever. It was the same for his parents. They were just as welcoming and loving, crushing your nerves when you went over to meet them.

Life might be stressful still but it was going great for you. There you were in your room rushing a last minute holiday assignment, bummed out that you were missing one of Sunghoon’s game, currently only getting crumbs by waiting for his messages and seeing him days after for your date.

By the time you were halfway through your assignment, you were dozing off, phone placed in ‘do not disturb’ mode, not knowing that your phone was receiving messages then.

Knock. Knock.

The sound coming from the window definitely got you awake at once. Alarmed and wary, you got up from your chair and slowly turned around to where your window was. But the sight you were witnessing before you had you relieved and sighing.

It was Sunghoon, and he was hanging on for dear life, somehow still managing a lopsided smile for you.

Despite still being surprised, you shook it off and rushed over to pull the windows open to let him in, wondering how in hell did he pull off climbing up to your window unharmed. Helping yank him through the window was enough workout for the week, but you got him in thankfully without making any odd or loud noises that might wake your parents up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, rather breathlessly, snaking an arm around your middle, pulling you in naturally.

“Hi,” you whispered, letting him lean down to pepper kisses all over your face, travelling from your forehead to your cheeks before it landed on your lips. “I thought you’re coming over on Saturday?”

“I wanted to come find you,” he smiled against a haste kiss, face beaming. “The team won big tonight and I was sad you weren’t there. You’re basically my lucky charm,”

“Well, your lucky charm is stuck home doing her assignment,” you frowned, pinching his cheek softly. “Will you be staying over? It’s late, and you’re driving,”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course I do,”

Sunghoon could never say ‘no’ to you.

“I’ll stay with you,”

“I have clothes from which you left last time,” you noted, pursing your lips as you think of where you’ve put them. “I’ll go get them for you,”

“It’s fine,” he grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking another step from him. “Later, maybe. I just want you here,”

Trying to feel so normal and unphased from what he just said, which totally failed. His words got you grinning like an idiot, and you knew you should be getting used to his unprompted affection with words, but it still surprises you and makes you flush at times.

“Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you joked lightly, to which he caught on easily.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. “Oh yeah? I’ll beat him up right now,”

“He’s probably going to fuck you up,”

“He probably stinks!”

“Yeah he does!”

“Hey!” he laughed, wrapping both his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. Contrary to what you’ve just said, he actually smelt really good. Fresh from a shower and having the specific scent of that heavy cherry shampoo you bought for him, you could die in his arms at that moment.

“I love you,”

Your tiredness and drowsiness evaporated once you heard what he’d said. It wasn’t a part of your hallucinations, right? He said it clearly and loudly, it definitely was something you couldn’t miss at all.

“I–is something wrong?” Your momentary disassociation and silence worried your boyfriend who tried checking up on you as he pulled away slowly. You shook your head, wasting no more time to tell him what you feel.

“I love you too,”

His stare softened, the worry in his gaze turned to relief. The biggest smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned into crescents and the constellations of moles shone brighter than ever. There were times where Sunghoon felt actual happiness. Ones where he won championships and important games, childhood memories, but this was surely going to be a new addition.

“Should we call it a night soon?”

“Are you just trying to get me to cuddle you?”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, though not denying it. “Yes,”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you knew him by now, his patterns and the littlest details about him. Shaking your head slightly, your face had a playful grin plastered on. “Race you to it?”

“You’re challenging a pro-athlete now?”

“Hm, maybe?” you didn’t even give him a second before dashing away to your bathroom, leaving him stunned and frozen.

“Hey! That’s so not fair!”

“Boohoo! Got a head start!”

“Unfair!”

If this was what it’s like to be with Sunghoon, you’d never trade it for anything, even if he’s an annoying sassy man at times. Never in a million years would you have expected yourself dating the star player of the hockey team, player number 23. He showed you colours and taught you a secret language you couldn’t see with anyone else. He showed you what love meant and what it was worth.

The road that led to him and this might’ve been questionable and long, not to mention, crazy and stupid, but alas, there was so much love and affection that couldn’t be measured. It was a crazy, stupid, love.

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special thanks to those who've been here since the start. i'm super thankful and i know who exactly you are! so shout out to all of you and i hope you'll look forward to my future works. as for those that tune in from time to time, still, thank you for supporting me and my works. quite emotional about the fact that this series had ended since it's my first ever one and to be able to receive so much love from it just makes me feel genuinely amazed. i'm really happy that you guys enjoy my writing and give me words of encouragement. i love reading all your messages/asks/comments. grateful that you're here, love you all. much love and kisses from me. thank you.

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