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tenebraevesper · 2 years

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Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 9: Live and Learn

''Live and learn! Hanging on the edge of tomorrow! Live and learn! From the works of yesterday! Live and learn! If you beg or if you borrow! Live and learn! You may never find your way! Whooooa, yeah!''

– Live and Learn by Sonic Adventure 2 (NateWantsToBattle Cover)

xXxXxXx

''Why has the countdown started again? That shouldn't be possible… right?'' Lucas asked, looking at Shadow. Shadow shook his head.

''On its own? No,'' he responded in a grim tone. ''Someone had to activate it manually.''

Lucas exchanged glances with his friends, confused and worried. The moment Sonic had told them that the countdown was active once again, they all rushed to main control room to see what was going on. Warren and Tails were already at the computers, trying to shut it down once again, only to get blocked from accessing the system. Once it was clear that they couldn't do anything, Shadow attempted to stop the program from overloading the energy cores, but to his frustration, nothing worked. Admittedly, they had more time left than during the first countdown, less than half an hour, but they had no idea how to stop it.

''What should we do now?'' Silver asked, feeling anxious. They were all silent, hoping for someone to have an answer to this. Lucas glanced at Shadow, who was staring furiously at the monitor, fists clenched tightly. It was obvious that the dark hedgehog regretted setting this up, blaming himself for not removing the program when he still had the time. However, Lucas didn't blame him for this, as no one had the slightest clue that this would happen.

''I believe that this proves that we aren't alone here,'' Lucas suddenly said, drawing everyone's attention. ''We were all away from this room, meaning that someone we don't know had activated this.''

''If that's the case, why would they do this?'' Lily asked furiously. ''This is suicide!''

''Honestly, I don't know,'' Lucas replied, then looked at Ferra and Metal Sonic. Even if he had no clue who did this, he had a feeling that Ferra and Metal Sonic may have had an idea who else knew of this place and Shadow's plan. They had no connection to the Codex Research Facility, yet they knew where it was and were able to lead everyone to it. Ferra noticed Lucas' stare, frowning. Even though Lucas didn't say anything, she was aware of what was going through his head. ''I don't think anyone would be aware of this place or what is going on… right, Ferra?''

Instantly, everyone's attention turned towards her. Metal Sonic stepped in front of his partner, his red eyes glowing brightly and he looked like he was about to battle the other Irregulars. Ferra glared back at the group, well aware that she could choose between telling them the truth or risking unnecessary death. Ferra then sighed, tapping on her AR Visor to open the message she got before this whole mess started, grabbing the holographic screen and tossing it at Lucas.

''This is how I knew about this place,'' Ferra added in a bitter tone, crossing her arms. ''Just to make it clear, I have no part in any of this and I certainly don't want myself or Metal get blown up.''

'''If you desire more power against your enemies, go to these coordinates and follow the instructions below.','' Lucas read the message loudly for everyone to hear. He gave Ferra a questioning look. ''Is this really it? Do you know who sent this to you?''

''If I knew, I would've told you,'' Ferra grumbled back.

Lucas rose an eyebrow, but Touka then rose her voice, ''She had actually told me that she was searching for the person who had sent her the message and even confronted me because she thought I had something to do with it.''

''Thanks for the confirmation,'' Lucas told her.

''So, does this mean that the person who had sent Ferra and Metal Sonic the message might also be the one behind this?'' Amy asked, pointing at the monitor.

''It is possible,'' Lucas said, then shook his head, ''In any case, we have not much time left. We need act right now.''

''Okay, but what are we supposed to do?'' Makoto asked.

''Warren and I did a little analysis on how the system works when we prepared to shut it down,'' Tails said as he sat back at the computer, typing on the keyboard and bringing up a layout of the system on the main monitor. ''Do you see those red dots and the waves? That's the energy produced by the energy cores, sent towards Neos City via the AR Fields.''

''Is there a way to cut it off?'' Lucas asked, feeling that this would be the obvious solution.

''No,'' Warren told him. ''We would need to shut down the energy cores for that.''

''How about containing it?'' Silver rose his voice, drawing everyone's attention. ''I mean, we want to prevent Neos City from being destroyed and the source of the explosion is here, so what if we try to contain it and let it affect only one area?''

Warren and Tails exchanged glances, then started to type something, looking intrigued. Tails grinned, turning back, ''Silver, you're a genuis! It looks like we can reverse the flow of energy back to here, leaving Neos City unaffected.''

''However, the explosion will be much stronger,'' Warren quickly warned them. ''Also, how are we supposed to contain it? Whatever barrier we put over it will have to be strong enough to withstand the energy released from what can be only described as a nuclear explosion.''

''I had thought of using my psychokinesis and create a barrier around it,'' Silver said, the hope in his voice wavering when he saw Makoto shaking his head.

''No offense, buddy, but I don't think it is going to be powerful enough,'' he said.

''How about using Chaos Surge?'' Silver asked, still not wanting to give up. He had promised to himself that he would protect Neos City from suffering the same fate it had suffered in the future and it was frustrating him that there wasn't much he could do. Upon hearing this, Ferra, Metal Sonic and Shadow had tensed. ''This should be enough of a power-up, right?''

''I-I don't know,'' Makoto replied reluctantly. ''It still feels like too much of a risk.''

''How about moving it somewhere where it won't cause any damage?'' Minami suggested.

''Right, we're just going to teleport it into space or somewhere similar. Let me just get the teleporation device we don't have,'' Lily said sarcastically, with Minami giving her an annoyed look.

''It was just a suggestion…'' she muttered under her breath.

''Would that be even possible?'' Knuckles asked, giving his partner a puzzled look and ignoring the sarcasm in her tone. ''Because that sounds like the best solution.''

''It is the best solution, but…'' Lucas trailed off, with everyone else being well aware that this was a task none of them could carry out. It was impossible.

Sonic suddenly perked up as he heard footsteps, him and his friends watching Shadow as he walked past them and going towards the entrance, a determined look on his expression. ''Shadow, what are you up to?'' Shadow didn't answer, vanishing into the hallway instead. Sonic quickly ran up to him, startling the dark hedgehog as he stepped in front of him. ''Hey, dude, I asked you something.''

''I'm taking care of the mess I had created,'' Shadow told him in a grim tone. Sonic looked past him, noticing Lucas and Touka entering the hallway, then turned towards Shadow as he continued to speak, his expression barely masking the guilt he felt. ''If I use Chaos Control, I will be able to transport the energy cores to somewhere they would cause no harm.''

Surprisingly, Sonic was silent. Shadow gave him a questioning look, with Sonic asking in a whisper-like tone, ''Why do you sound like you're going to do something you're going to regret?''

''Let's just go,'' Shadow replied, sighing. Sonic gave him a thumbs up.

''Don't worry, you're not alone here,'' he said, turning his attention back to the rest of his friends, who observed this exchange. ''Let's go save the world!''

With that said, he rushed away, much to everyone's surprise, disappearing down the hallway. Shadow blinked, looking completely stunned.

''He… doesn't even know where he is supposed to go,'' Shadow remarked in a deadpan tone.

''Don't worry, he'll find us,'' Amy, who walked up to him, told him casually. Shadow gave her a questioning look, but then relented.

''Right,'' he muttered, with the rest of the group, aside from Warren and Tails, approaching them. He turned towards them. ''Follow me.''

Everyone, save for Warren and Tails, followed Shadow, with Lily and Knuckles being at the back of the group. They turned their head when they heard steps behind them and saw Ferra and Metal Sonic walk away. ''Where are you two going?''

''I have told you everything I know. I see no reason for us to stay at this place anymore,'' Ferra replied in a haughty tone. Knuckles frowned, glaring at the two in case they tried something. Ferra just scoffed, smirking. ''Besides, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to save the city.''

She then gestured to Metal Sonic to follow her, with Lily and Knuckles feeling completely done with the two. Lily shook her head, her and Knuckles going towards the other side. ''We're going to deal with these two another time.''

''There is something I don't understand,'' Knuckles said as they quickened their pace to catch up with the others. ''What did the messenger mean by offering Ferra and Metal Sonic more power?''

''I believe that they were baiting the two into releasing Shadow, which means that this person somehow knew about what happened at Codex, or at least was aware of Shadow's existence and past,'' Lily explained. ''They wanted all of this to happen.''

''They took a huge gamble, but for what reason?'' Knuckles pointed out. Lily just shrugged in response, having no answer.

xXx

Fortunately, Sonic had managed to run back after realizing that, as Shadow had noted earlier, he had no clue where he was supposed to go, but being quite eager to save his home. It wasn't hard to find them, and he skidded to a halt with a sheepish smile.

''Heh, sorry for taking off earlier,'' he said, following the group into a room. He didn't get much of a response, save for a grim gaze from Shadow and a 'We know you well enough to be aware you'd do something like this' look from the rest of his friends. Once inside the storage room, Shadow turned the lights on, which briefly flickered, illuminating the room.

''This is supposed to be a storage?'' Lily rose an eyebrow as she observed the room. It certainly looked nothing like she or the others imagined. There was a bunch of machinery connected to the energy cores which were set inside glass panels attached to the walls, all glowing in a bright red colour.

Shadow didn't answer, focusing instead on the closest energy core, ''We will have to open those panels and disconnect the energy cores from them. Do not touch the energy cores directly unless you want to get burned.'' He turned towards Silver. ''We will need your psychic powers to remove the energy cores and pile them up on one spot.''

''Got it,'' Silver said eagerly.

''Everyone else, split up and start removing the wires once we get confirmation that the energy flow has been reversed,'' Shadow added. ''We will have to work fast.''

''Okay,'' Lucas said, tapping on the AR Visor, revealing Warren and Tails. ''How's the situation?''

However, instead of answering through their AR Visors, everyone heard Warren and Tails' voices via the intercom.

''So far, we're doing… well, enough,'' Warren replied, clearly anxious despite trying to sound optimistic. ''Ah, got it! Disconnect the one at the far end to the room on the left.''

''Leave that one to me!'' Sonic said, speeding off towards where Warren had instructed them.

''We also have two in the middle of the room,'' Tails quickly added, with Amy and Minami exchanging looks and nodding, then going quickly towards the energy cores Tails directed them to.

One by one, the group spread out, carefully listening to the instructions they were given. The only one who wasn't working on disconnecting the energy cores was Silver, who'd instead float from one person to another, carrying the energy cores via psychokinesis. The process still felt frustratingly slow, and Knuckles at one point dragged Sonic away because he was itching to disconnect an energy core and too impatient to listen to Warren's warnings about not touching it yet.

''Ow, Knux, I was just preparing myself to disconnect it,'' Sonic protested, but Knuckles had none of it as he dragged Sonic away.

''I will not take any risks,'' Knuckles said, then looked up. ''Hey, Fox, how much time do we have left?''

''Less than 15 minutes,'' Tails answered a moment later.

''I wonder if that is going to be enough,'' Lily grumbled under her breath as she and Makoto worked on another energy core.

''It has to,'' Makoto replied, feeling tense. He didn't want to think about what would happen if they don't complete their task in time. He then stepped away, allowing Silver to lift the energy core with his psycokinesis and took a look around the room, spotting Touka and Shadow working on an energy core at the far side of the room.

Touka had noticed that Shadow was unusually quiet around her, avoiding her gaze and trying to hide his troubled expression. She knew that Shadow wasn't someone who'd express his emotions freely, usually keeping to himself, but at the same time, she remembered him sharing with her whatever was bothering him. She was worried, especially after Shadow declared that he would use Chaos Control to just teleport the energy cores away. Even though her memories were still somewhat hazy, she knew that this solution wouldn't be as easy as it sounded.

''Shadow...''

Shadow's ears twitched and he looked up, seemingly startled when he heard Touka addressing him, as she had been rather quiet the whole time.

''What is it?'' he asked, removing another wire. Touka was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out how to formulate her question.

''It is about Chaos Control,'' she said, with Shadow giving her a questioning look. ''If I remember correctly, you have to physically touch whatever you're taking along, right?''

''You're correct,'' Shadow said in a quiet tone, wondering just how much Touka had remembered.

''That means that you will also have to stay close to the energy cores,'' Touka continued, with Shadow nodding. ''I also remember that you told me once that, depending on how far you teleport and on what you teleport along with you, it can be quite exhausting.''

''That's true,'' Shadow muttered, remembering the first time he attempted to use Chaos Control. Not only did he end up in a random locked room, but he used all of his energy and was too exhausted to even move. It was quite embarrassing and he swore to himself that he would figure out how to control his ability better. However, he still had his limits and he was aware that his power alone might not be enough to save everyone.

''Shadow…'' Shadow was startled when Touka suddenly crouched beside him, locking eyes with him and placing her hands on her shoulders. There was a glint in her eyes, which Shadow realized to be a sign of tears. ''Please, be honest with me. Do you have enough energy left to Chaos Control the energy cores away and return?''

Shadow was silent, staring at Touka and feeling a huge weight on his chest. He wanted to answer, but it felt like he had something stuck in his throat, preventing him from responding. He wanted to assure her that everything would be fine, but he was aware that reality was different. He looked down, shaking his head. Both knew the answer to this question.

''Then, I won't let you go.''

Shadow looked up, shocked at Touka's response. She was giving him a resolute look, with Shadow being aware that this meant that nothing he said would make her change her mind. It still didn't stop him from protesting.

''I am responsible for this mess and I won't leave until you're safe. If I have to sacrifice my own life, then so be it,'' Shadow told her firmly, clenching his fist. However, the look of despair Touka gave him made him feel a cold chill flow down his spine, his quills bristling. He hated confronting her like this, but he had no other choice.

''If that's so, then I'm going with you,'' Touka responded in a frustrated tone, her eyes tearing up. Neither she nor Shadow had noticed Silver, who had approached them to pick up the energy core.

''I'm not going to let you die because of me!'' Shadow bellowed, causing Touka to step back. His cry of frustration had not only startled Silver, who quietly observed the conversation between the two, but also drew everyone else's attention.

''Shadow, I had promised you that we would get out of this place one day and I'm not leaving without you!'' Touka fought back with unrelenting determination. ''I don't want to lose you again!'' Shadow went silent, staring at her in shock, his eyes wide, unable to come up with any kind of response. Touka's firm gaze then wavered, softening into a more pleading one. ''I hate that I don't remember everything, but I hate it even more that I had forgotten that promise.''

Shadow's gaze fell. He too remembered the promise they made all too well and he wanted nothing more but to finally leave his past behind and forget about everything that had happened at the Codex Research Facility. However, with the situation being how it was, that just wasn't possible. He was the only one capable of fixing his own mistake properly and he knew that it would be at the cost of his own life.

''I don't think you should sacrifice your own life either.'' Shadow turned around, surprised to see Sonic behind him. Silver was also there, just standing awkwardly with the energy cores floating around him. ''I told you before, you still have something to live for.''

''I don't disagree with you,'' Shadow said in a regretful tone, with Sonic tilting his head, his arms folded across his chest. ''However, there is no other option.''

''What about using Chaos Surge? You are an Irregular and you can manipulate BioEnergy,'' Sonic suggested, ignoring Shadow's furious glare. ''From what I understood, all you need is a power boost, or am I wrong?''

''I refuse to use BioEnergy for this,'' Shadow responded angrily.

''Why?'' Silver asked, picking the energy core out of the panel once Touka was done disconnecting it. ''Sure, it is risky, but we could show you how to use it properly.''

''I'm also fully willing to go along with this plan,'' Touka added. Shadow clenched his fists, shaking. He knew that the three were right, that there would be a chance for him to make it out alive if he absorbed Touka's BioEnergy. However, the moment they suggested it, his mind flashed back to his battle with the rogue Irregular, the memory of Touka dying resurfacing. He had hoped that this memory would perish when he too perished, but he now understood that he couldn't keep it no longer a secret.

''I was the reason why you almost lost your life,'' Shadow said, surprising everyone. ''I was a complete fool, having resorted to use your BioEnergy in the fight against that Irregular, and when it was over, I was told you were dead.'' He shook his head, his voice shaking. ''I'm not going to repeat the same mistake again!''

''Shadow…'' Touka muttered, feeling sorry for him. Despite all of his hatred towards the humans that betrayed him, he still blamed himself for what had happened to her. She exchanged quiet glances with Sonic and Silver, the latter leaving to quickly pick up the remaining energy cores after Lucas waved him over. She clenched her fists, a determined look forming on her expression. ''I know you won't repeat your mistake, and that is why I want us to try out Chaos Surge.''

''What?'' Shadow was stunned, while Sonic just grinned.

''If Lucas and Sonic could do it without suffering the any of the harsher consequences, then I'm sure we can do it too,'' Touka added.

''Now that's the spirit!'' Sonic cheered, while Shadow gave both of them a dubious look.

''Whether you want it or not, this does sound like the better idea,'' Lucas said, approaching them along with the rest of the group. Silver was carrying all the disconnected energy energy cores, looking a bit lost with what he was supposed to do with them. Shadow didn't answer, with Lucas continuing as he turned to his friends, ''Lily, Knuckles, go get Warren and Tails and lead everyone out of this building. I don't want you to be here in case something goes wrong.''

''Wait, what are you up to?'' Lily asked.

''Sonic and I will stay with Shadow and Touka to make sure everything goes well. If we need to escape for any reason, we still have our super speed,'' Lucas replied. Knuckles nodded.

''Your order will be carried out,'' he said, turning to the rest. ''Let's move along! Hurry! There is not much time left!''

Lucas gave him a half-smile, nodding and encouraging his friends to leave, despite their reluctance.

''What should I do with this?'' Silver asked, pointing his finger at the energy cores floating above him. Shadow was hesitant for a moment, but at this point, he knew that he had no other choice but to relent. Despite the guilt and shame he carried pushing him into suicide, there was a part of him that wanted to live on.

''Stack them up in the middle,'' he said, pointing at the ground. Silver did as he was told and, after giving them one last gaze, he quickly followed the rest of the group. Lucas and Sonic turned to Touka and Shadow, with Sonic crackling his knuckles.

''Okay, ready to learn how to use Chaos Surge?'' Sonic asked. Shadow nodded, being ready to finally confront his fears and the pain that came with it. He looked at Touka, giving her a look of pure determination.

''I will hold on to our promise,'' he said, with Touka smiling, happy to see him overcome his doubts. The two then looked at Sonic and Lucas.

''All that you have to do is activate the BioEnergy. Once it is active, don't absorb it, but let it float. You both need to feel it,'' Sonic explained.

''Once you do, then you both need to absorb it. Don't be afraid of going for it and stay focused,'' Lucas continued, him and Sonic stretching out their arms, blue energy crackling between them. Both could feel the BioEnergy transforming into something far more powerful.

''Chaos Surge!''

Touka and Shadow watched the two as they absorbed the energy, leading the two to become enveloped in a blue aura, with electricity sparking around them, both Lucas and Sonic giving the two a confident look. Touka then looked at Shadow, extending her hand, with Shadow grabbing it without any hesitance. He could sense her BioEnergy, calling for him to absorb it, to become stronger. However, he rejected this power. It wasn't just for him, but for both of them.

''Chaos Surge!''

A bright dark red and orange orb of energy appeared between the two, sparks of electricity enveloping them as they both absorbed it, now empowered. Shadow's eyes were now glowing in an orange and red colour as he and Touka turned towards the energy cores, which were now burning in a hot red.

''Ready?'' Touka asked as she stepped on one side of the energy cores, extending her hands before them as she felt the Chaos energy surging through her body.

''I am,'' Shadow mirrored her actions, focusing on the Chaos energy inside his body. It was far stronger than anything else he had experience and he was going to use every drop of it to save this world.

Both of their eyes glowed red as they were enveloped by a blue field of energy, determined to carry out this mission to the bitter end.

''CHAOS CONTROL!''

xXx

'Calculating survival chances… 50%.'

Metal Sonic had suddenly stopped walking, turning back towards Codex and observing it. Ferra stopped too, giving Metal Sonic a questioning look, the corners of her lips forming into a tiny smile.

''You're hoping for your rival to survive, aren't you?'' she asked. Metal Sonic didn't respond, but instead kept staring at the entrance. ''Admittedly, all of us have a 50-50 chance of survival, depending on if those guys manage to shut down the system.''

'Irregular life forms approaching,' Metal Sonic warned her, suddenly alert.

To Ferra's surprise, Lily, Knuckles, Warren, Tails, Minami, Amy, Makoto and Silver exited the building, with Lucas, Sonic, Touka and Shadow nowhere in sight. However, the group didn't see the two as they were already behind a few trees and bushes; not to mention, they seemed to be distracted by something else, looking quite distraught as they tried to move away from the building, but at the same time were too reluctant to go too far. Tails kept an eye on the holographic screen beside him, showing a timer that was flashing red.

''10… 9… 8… 7…'' Tails counted, the group gathering around him, all worried. Some were even holding their breath, as if that would stop the countdown. ''6… 5… 4…''

''Please, tell me that this countdown is a good sign,'' Ferra hissed, with Metal Sonic stepping closer to her. His sensors were now set on high alert, but what frustrated him was that he couldn't find any threat.

''3… 2… 1…'' Tails continued anxiously, his tails flicking. Then, everyone felt as if their heart was going to stop.

KA-BOOOM!!!

There was a bright flash high in the sky, far above them, followed by a thunderous ear-shattering explosion. Everyone fell on their knees, closing their eyes and covering their ears as the earth beneath them shook and wave of gust knocked them over, bending, if not flattening, some of the smaller trees and bushes. It felt like the beginning of a natural catastrophe, but as soon as the explosion happened, it also stopped.

Ferra and Metal Sonic looked up, both protected by Metal Sonic's Black Shield. Metal Sonic dropped it once he assessed that they were safe and they observed the group before them as they got up, looking dazed from what had just happened.

''Was that… it? Are we safe?'' Makoto was the first to voice the one question that was on everyone's mind.

''I-I think so…'' Warren replied, trying to access the AR Visor, only to realize that it didn't work. ''What the-''

''I think the explosion fried our devices,'' Tails said as he reached for his Miles Electric, only for it to not work.

''I guess it could've been worse,'' Minami said, crossing her arms and looking back at the building. ''Speaking of which, where are Lucas and Sonic? And Touka and Shadow for that matter?''

''Maybe we should go back inside…''

Before Silver could finish his sentence, two streaks of blue light emerged out of the building, standing at the entrance and revealing themselves to be Lucas and Sonic, with Lucas carrying Touka while Sonic was supporting Shadow. Both Touka and Shadow looked like they were close to fainting, but otherwise appeared to be fine. Lucas and Sonic dropped the Chaos Surge, with their friends approaching them, all cheering in relief to see that they were fine, while Ferra just gave Metal Sonic a look of satisfaction.

''It appears that we both had miscalculated. The chances of everyone's survival were 100%,'' Ferra noted, grinning.

'Miscalculation has been deemed irrelevant,' Metal Sonic responded. 'The only loss we experienced is the lack of data regarding Chaos Surge.'

''That's fine,'' Ferra said in a dismissive tone. ''We'll have enough opportunities to study their Chaos Surge ability.''

She then grabbed her hoverboard, gesturing to Metal Sonic to follow her, with both leaving for Neos City. Metal Sonic took one last glance at Sonic, his red eyes flashing, before following Ferra back to the city.

''Aaa-choo!'' Sonic suddenly sneezed, wiping his nose.

''Sonic, are you okay?'' Amy asked.

''Yeah, I just have this weird feeling of being observed,'' Sonic replied casually, then glanced at Touka and Shadow, who had sat down, both looking completely exhausted as they had used all of their remaining energy to perform Chaos Control. ''It looks like that using Chaos Surge worked out for everyone.''

Shadow looked up at Sonic, his eyes narrowing, then he just scoffed, looking away. Sonic smiled, figured that Shadow agreed with him, in his own way.

''I'm just glad everything is over,'' Makoto said.

''I hate to disappoint you Makoto, but considering everything we have learned today, I think our adventure has just begun,'' Lucas told him, with everyone giving him a questioning look. ''I feel that we have barely scrapped the surface of the origins of Irregulars and Chaos Surge, and now there are also Ferra and Metal Sonic, whatever happened at the Codex Research Facility and we still need to find out the identity of the person who had just tried to kill all of us.''

''I absolutely agree!'' Sonic said, placing his hands on his hips and giving Lucas a look of excitement. ''As you said, we have barely scratched the surface and I really want to know what's going on here.''

''Okay, but couldn't we wait for that until tomorrow? I had enough of an adventure for one day,'' Lily said in a gruff tone, looking tired. Sonic looked at the rest of his friends, all of whom didn't really appear to share his sense of enthusiasm (or his boundless energy for that matter) for the new adventure that he was looking forward to. Even Tails, who would usually agree with him, looked tired and was trying to fix his Miles Electric device and the AR Visor.

''I guess we all do deserve some rest after what we've been through,'' Sonic said, grinning sheepishly. His friends either hummed or grumbled in response, agreeing with him, with Shadow and Touka getting up; Touka grabbing her hoverboard that Lily's group had brought along when they exited the building.

''I guess this is where we leave,'' Touka said, looking at the group. She felt weak and a little dizzy, but was confident that she'd be able to return home without fainting.

''Already?'' Lucas asked, only to smile. ''I guess we'll see you guys around.''

''Don't count on it,'' Touka responded, with Lucas' smile vanishing. ''I told you before, I'm not interested in being friends with any of you.'' She then gave him a half-hearted smile. ''Still, thank you for everything.''

''You're welcome,'' Lucas replied, with Touka and Shadow then walking away.

''Shadow, wait!'' Shadow and Touka stopped walking, turning around to suddenly see Tails flying up to them, reaching for his backpack and taking something out of it and then placed it into Shadow's hand. To Shadow's surprise, it was a pair of goggles with dark grey frames, a brown band and orange-red lenses. It took a moment for Shadow to realize that it was an AR Visor. ''I almost forgot; since you're also an Irregular, you will need this. It has a special program that hides your identity as an Irregular from the Hunters.''

Shadow was stunned, looking at Tails, then back at the goggles, muttering quietly, ''Thank you.''

''You're welcome,'' Tails replied in a chipper tone, continuing when he saw Shadow's questioning look, ''At first, I made those just for me and Sonic, since I figured that it would be much easier to hide our identities as Irregulars instead of having to hide ourselves. Then, Knuckles appeared, so I made another for him. Then Amy and later Silver appeared, and I made AR Visors for them too. In the end, I had figured it would be a good idea to have a spare AR Visor just in case another Irregular like us appears. All you have to do is to put it on.''

Shadow looked hesitant for a moment, but then did as Tails instructed him, placing the goggles on his forehead and carefully placing the band between his quills. Touka placed her hands on her back, bowing over slightly as she grinned.

''The goggles look really great on you,'' she said, with Shadow smiling in response. His smile then quickly faded into a frown when he saw Sonic run up to them, grinning.

''You know, you may not want to be friends with us, but that still doesn't mean that we can't hang out,'' Sonic said. ''Despite all the craziness and battles, we did have some fun, didn't we?''

''While I appreciate your help, Blue Hedgehog, I'm not interested in being in your company longer than necessary,'' Shadow responded, turning around. ''This is a farewell.''

He and Touka then walked away, only for Shadow to suddenly flinch, feeling exasperated when he heard Sonic's response.

''See ya later, Shad!'' Sonic yelled for everyone to hear, waving Shadow and Touka goodbye. The two didn't respond, despite their obvious reaction, vanishing into the forest. Sonic smirked in satisfaction, glancing at Tails as he placed a hand on his hip. ''The two will come around eventually.''

Tails laughed, ''I had figured you wouldn't give up on them.''

''I believe that all they need is a simple nudge in the right direction. Shadow isn't a bad guy and I'm looking forward to running into him again,'' Sonic responded, with the rest of the group approaching them. ''Now, com'n, let's go home!''

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#Sonic Cyber Revolution #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the echidna #amy rose #metal sonic #mephiles the dark #sonic adventure 2

6 notes · View notes

ghoulgums · 5 months

Note

I'm really sorry to hear about May. Please talk to someone though don't bottle up these feelings again. And life definitely isn't wasted on you you bring so much happiness and love into the world it would be so much worse without your light in it

I haven’t spoken to anyone online in days, I feel so empty, I have almost nothing to say to anyone, funnily enough though this is the first time I haven’t felt lonely, it’s kinda odd?

social media is triggering me hard at the moment, I’m getting tired of reading posts and statuses of people expressing a desire for an eating disorder so that they can lose weight, I had acute anorexia from my early teens and received a formal diagnosis of anorexia nervosa a couple of years ago, every day I am battling my head/body and there are people actively WISHING that they had the illness, it’s knocking me sick.

everyone seems to be depressed and suicidal at the moment, and I’ve since realised that I don’t have the mental or emotional capacity to take on anyone else’s problems when I’m trying SO HARD not to end my life on the daily.

these next coming weeks I’m going to be a full time carer for my partner as a result of a surgical procedure he’s having done, and I’m looking forward to feeling ‘needed’ as that’s a driving factor for my survival, if I’m not needed then I don’t see the point of being.

my independence is so limited due to my financial and mental health struggles, and also the fact I feel extreme guilt at doing nice things for myself so I won’t do a lot of things without ‘permission’.

I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel despite the medication, therapy sessions, and support I receive. I believe I’m always going to be tormented by my traumas even though I’ve been trying to manage them on and off for 17 years.

the hard work I’ve put in to reach recovery has proved ineffective, and the thought of having to live with these conditions for the rest of my life is exhausting and terrifying.

I feel like all I’m doing is making the people around me miserable because the joy has been sucked out of me, and I don’t want to be that guy in any way, shape or form.

I feel like I’ve let everyone down, people have these expectations of me that I can’t always meet and as a result I get grief, I’m sorry but I can’t live my life catering to people who don’t even know what’s going on in my life.

I’ve had an absolutely garbage year and it’s felt like I’ve been dragging boulders, the heaviness is so physical that it hurts.

not to state the obvious, but I am alive, I’m existing just about.

I don’t feel like I bring much light, and it devastates me because all I ever wanted was to be happy and spread love and acceptance, but I’m not happy and it just doesn’t look like it’s in the cards for me. yes, there are things that make me feel happy, but overall I’m not happy in the slightest regardless of my efforts to change it.

I just feel like I’m surrounded by constant reminders of the fact that my life has been different to the people around me, and I get envious and bitter as a result.

I’m holding on, but something has got to give at some point, it just has to.

#personal #anon #I’m sorry for the big shpiel #just feels like you genuinely care #which I really appreciate #thank you for being here

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dfroza · 7 months

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(Clarity)

“He keeps calling you to the truth.”

“I’m confident because the Lord reassures me that you will truly hear and take my message to heart.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 5th chapter of the letter of Galatians:

So stand strong for our freedom! The Anointed One freed us so we wouldn’t spend one more day under the yoke of slavery, trapped under the law.

Listen because I, Paul, am going to make this message very clear so it cannot be misunderstood: if you undergo the rite of circumcision, then all that the Anointed accomplished will be lost on you. And understand this: if you choose to be circumcised, then you will oblige yourself to do every single rule of the law for the rest of your life. You, and anyone else who seeks to be on the right side of God through the law, have effectively been cut off from the Anointed, circumcised from grace, and cast off from the favor of God. We, on the other hand, continue to live through the Spirit’s power and wait confidently in the hope that things will be put right through faith. Here’s the thing: in Jesus the Anointed whether you are circumcised or not makes no difference. What makes a difference is faith energized by love.

Who has impeded your progress and kept you from obeying the truth? You were off to such a good start. I know for certain the pressure isn’t coming from God. He keeps calling you to the truth. You know what they say, “Just a little yeast causes all the dough to rise,” so even the slightest detour from the truth will take you to a destination you do not desire. Despite this, I’m confident because the Lord reassures me that you will truly hear and take my message to heart. Besides, I also know that these troublemakers, whoever they are, will answer to God and be judged accordingly. As for me, brothers and sisters, if I continue to preach circumcision—as these agitators claim—then why do I still face persecution? If I were to preach a compromised version of the good news, then the scandal of the cross would come to an end. I really wish that these people who weigh you down with corrupt counsel would mutilate themselves!

Brothers and sisters, God has called you to freedom! Hear the call, and do not spoil this gift by using your liberty to engage in what your flesh desires; instead, use it to serve each other as Jesus taught through love. For the whole law comes down to this one instruction: “Love your neighbor as yourself,” so why all this vicious gnawing on each other? If you are not careful, you will find you’ve eaten each other alive!

Here’s my instruction: walk in the Spirit, and let the Spirit bring order to your life. If you do, you will never give in to your selfish and sinful cravings. For everything the flesh desires goes against the Spirit, and everything the Spirit desires goes against the flesh. There is a constant battle raging between them that prevents you from doing the good you want to do. But when you are led by the Spirit, you are no longer subject to the law.

It’s clear that our flesh entices us into practicing some of its most heinous acts: participating in corrupt sexual relationships, impurity, unbridled lust, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, arguing, jealousy, anger, selfishness, contentiousness, division, envy of others’ good fortune, drunkenness, drunken revelry, and other shameful vices that plague humankind. I told you this clearly before, and I only tell you again so there is no room for confusion: those who give in to these ways will not inherit the kingdom of God.

The Holy Spirit produces a different kind of fruit: unconditional love, joy, peace, patience, kindheartedness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. You won’t find any law opposed to fruit like this. Those of us who belong to the Anointed One have crucified our old lives and put to death the flesh and all the lusts and desires that plague us.

Now since we have chosen to walk with the Spirit, let’s keep each step in perfect sync with God’s Spirit. This will happen when we set aside our self-interests and work together to create true community instead of a culture consumed by provocation, pride, and envy.

The Letter of Galatians, Chapter 5 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul has been preaching about the call of God to freedom, and so he now spells it out: we are done with the demands of the law; now we are free to live in the Spirit and to be truly right with God. As free people, the Spirit gives us the characteristics of Jesus; we, too, can freely love in joy and peace. We can have patience along with kindness and faithfulness that can only come from the Father. We can reflect the goodness of God while being gentle in operating with self-control. For those who follow Him and live in the Spirit, these characteristics or fruits are a gift from God. As we grow in the faith, we find that we belong to God and can walk daily in the Spirit.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 35th chapter of the book of Jeremiah:

This word from the Eternal came to Jeremiah when Jehoiakim (son of Josiah) was king of Judah.

Eternal One: Go to where the Rechabites are now staying and invite them to My temple. Take them to one of the side rooms there and offer them wine to drink.

So I took the leader of this clan, Jaazaniah (son of Jeremiah and grandson of Habazziniah) along with his brothers and sons who represented all of the Rechabites to the temple of the Eternal. I led them into a side room that was used by the sons of Hanan (son of Igdaliah), a man of God. This room was right next to the room used by temple officials and right over the room of Maaseiah (son of Shallum), the doorkeeper. Once we were in the room, I set before these Rechabite men pitchers full of wine with some cups.

Jeremiah (to the Rechabites): Have some wine.

Rechabites: We do not drink wine because our ancestor, Jonadab (son of Rechab), gave us very clear commands: “You and your children must never drink wine. You must not build houses or plant crops or have vineyards. You are not to do anything that resembles settling down in this land. Instead, live in tents and roam the land as nomads. Do this, and you will live for a long time in this land.” So we have done just that—we have obeyed our ancestor Jonadab (son of Rechab) throughout these many years. We have never drunk wine, nor have our wives or children. We have never built houses to live in or owned a vineyard or a field or even planted seed. We have faithfully lived as nomads in tents and have obeyed what our ancestor, Jonadab, commanded all those years ago. But when King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon invaded this land, we knew we could no longer wander the countryside. So we said, “Come on, let’s go to Jerusalem so we don’t fall victim to the Babylonian and Aramean armies.” That is why we are here in Jerusalem.

After this encounter with the Rechabites, the word of the Eternal came to instruct Jeremiah.

Eternal One: I, the Eternal One, the God of Israel, Commander of heavenly armies, want you to go and deliver this message to the people of Judah and the citizens of Jerusalem: “Why won’t you hear My words and learn from Me? Jonadab (son of Rechab) told his children, among other things, not to drink wine, and they obeyed him! To this day they still obey their ancestor for this is his command. But I speak to you again and again, and you have never obeyed Me. I have sent My servants, the prophets, to you again and again. They warned you with My words: ‘Turn back from your wicked ways and change what you are doing. Stop worshiping other gods so that you may continue to live in this land that I gave to you and your ancestors.’ But you did not bother to listen to Me. The descendants of Jonadab (son of Rechab) have obeyed the orders of their ancestor and leader, but these people have not obeyed Me.

“Listen! This is why I, the Eternal One, the God of Israel, Commander of heavenly armies, will send all the disaster I promised against Judah and all the citizens of Jerusalem. For I spoke to them, but they never listened. I called out to them, but they never answered back.”

Jeremiah (to the Rechabites): The Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, has this message for you and your families: “Because you obeyed your ancestor Jonadab and faithfully followed his instructions for all these years, I promise that Jonadab (son of Rechab) will always have descendants who serve Me.”

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 35 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The next two chapters are a flashback to earlier times and circumstances. Jehoiakim is in the last years of his reign as king of Judah. Babylon, along with Aram, is raiding Judean villages. These raids cause many to seek refuge in Jerusalem, which is not yet under attack. Among those who run to the capital city is a nomadic clan known as the Rechabites. Their customs are simple and austere; their lifestyles are not suited to city living. However, they now find themselves in Jerusalem. Their faithfulness to those strict customs is held up as an example for the rest of Judah.

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, October 5 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about making an (inner space) for God:

Though the LORD is forever enthroned in heaven as our Creator, our King, and our loving Deliverer, and though the heavens shout out his praise and the whole earth is filled with His glory (Isa. 6:3), nevertheless we must make a dwelling within our hearts. “Let them make a sanctuary for me that I may dwell within them” (Exod. 25:8). In great humility the LORD stands at the door and knocks (Rev. 3:20). Where does God dwell but where He is given a place, a sanctuary, a throne within the heart?

The Torah states, "On the first day [of Sukkot] you shall take to yourselves the fruit of the goodly tree (etrog), branches of palm trees (lulav), boughs of leafy trees (hadassim) and willows of the brook (aravot), and you shall rejoice before the Lord your God seven days" (Lev. 23:40). In Jewish tradition, after reciting the Hebrew blessing and shaking the bouquet around, it is customary to recite (or sing) the following antiphon from Psalm 136: “Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his love endures forever” (Psalm 136:1).

Indeed, is there any better reason to give thanks to the LORD than because of His steadfast love, i.e., His chesed (חֶסֶד)? Is there anything greater than God’s love? Can anything overcome it? Can even the hardness of your own heart somehow veto or negate its purposes? It was because of His great love that God himself (יהוה) “emptied Himself” of heavenly glory, clothed himself in human flesh and came to us, disguised as a lowly servant. God performed this act of “infinite condescension” in order to “sukkah” with us as our “hidden King” (John 1:1,14, Phil. 2:7-8). Your neshama (soul) is likened to the “Shulamite woman” he came to woo so that you might “come into His tent” -- willingly, from a heart that comes from trust (Song of Solomon).

When we receive Yeshua as the Lover of our souls, we abide in the hope of love that awaits future consummation in the world to come... Meanwhile, we are “suspended between worlds,” though the veil of this world has been rent asunder and we may now appear before the LORD in the realm of the spirit by faith. We can come “boldly” before the Throne of Grace (παρρησίας τῷ θρόνῳ τῆς χάριτος) to find help for our lives (Heb. 4:16). Note that the word translated “boldly” in this verse (παρρησίας) comes from πᾶς (all) + ῥέω (to utter), suggesting that we can speak freely to God and share everything within our heart without fear or shame. We do not need to conceal ourselves from the Divine Light -- any more than we need to perform religious rituals or offer any “prescribed prayers” to access Him. We who are trusting in God’s sheltering love understand the LORD to be our loving Savior and Redeemer. In our brokenness we can bare our souls before Him without fear ("there is no fear in love" - אין פַּחַד בָּאַהֲבָה). We can express “all our heart” to the LORD and be assured that He will help us in our hour of need (Heb. 4:16). “Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart to him; God is a refuge for us” (Psalm 62:8).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 136:1 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm136-1-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm136-1-lesson.pdf

10.4.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

The secret behind the joyous judgment day of Sukkot is that we are looking beyond the verdict, and seeking out a deep relationship with the Judge. It is this constant connection with our Father in Heaven, by virtue of His children’s continued dependence on Him, which is the cause for great celebration on Sukkot.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

October 5, 2023

Our Lord Shepherds His Children

“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” (Psalm 23:1-6)

Psalm 23 is our tutor, instructing us to praise Yahweh’s care for His redeemed. He is the supreme Pastor, Sustainer, Preserver, and Savior of His beloved children. With supreme exhilaration, David joyfully shouts aloud for his beloved Shepherd, who is none other than Yahweh—the Creator of both heaven and Earth. Employing the most intimate metaphor found in Scripture, the eternal Shepherd lives with His flock, devoting everything in His caring arsenal of benevolence to minister to us as our personal (not distant) guide, physician, and protector, for His glory and honor.

At the psalm’s beginning, the Lord’s name occupies the emphatic starting point. Next, the word “my” reveals an unbreakable pledged relationship which even “dares to link” our Lord and His child with contentment’s result—“I shall never want.” Everything else emphasized in this psalm rests and flows from these nine foundational words.

Let these words sink deep into your soul, especially if you have not yet embraced our Lord in salvation. The Creator of the universe cares for you, and He is willing that none should perish. Repent of your sin and place your faith and trust in the finished work of our Lord Jesus Christ. CCM

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7r0773r · 10 months

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Loveless Love by Luigi Pirandello, translated by J.G. Nichols

It seemed to some of her friends, among whom was Paolo Baldía, that Signorina Pia Tolosani was somewhat affected by that vague melancholy which generally comes from too much reading, when someone has got into the habit of making the often blank pages of her own life conform to the model of those printed in some novels - but that without much detriment to her own spontaneity, thought Giorgio Daula, another of her friends. Besides, that melancholy was very excusable, and could even seem more than sincere in a farsighted young lady, already in her twenty-sixth year, who knew she had no dowry, and saw that her own parents were by now advanced in years. That was how she was excused by the lawyer, Filippo Venzi.

Not one of the young men who frequented the drawing-room of the Tolosani family had ever gone so far as to pay the slightest court to Pia, whether they were held back by the trustful friendship of her father and the taciturn kindness of her mother, or by the extreme respect which Pia imposed, obsessed by the task which she seemed to have set for herself of restraining any action or word which had the least air of flirtation. And yet this reserve was adorned with the most graceful ease of manner, with the most exquisite courtesy allied with a certain air of benevolent familiarity, which immediately removed any newcomer's embarrassment; and yet they all saw in her the wise and intelligent little wife, and she herself appeared to put not only all her effort, but all herself indeed, into demonstrating that she would really be one, when someone eventually made the decision, without however being able to lay claim to any helping hand from her, or a glance, or a smile, or a word of anticipation.

Everyone admired the neatness of this house, which was cared for in every minute particular by her white hands; they all noted the simplicity and good taste which reigned there; but no one could make up his mind to court her, as they all felt that everything was going on very nicely there, like that, admiring and conversing amicably, without desiring anything more.

Pia Tolosani, moreover, showed no preference for anyone.

Each one thought, 'She would perhaps marry me, like any of the other habitués.' And if someone attempted to advance a little in her good graces, that was enough to make her distance herself with measured coldness, as if she had not wanted to give any scope for even the most harmless gossip.

And this was how Filippo Venzi, now married, had escaped her yoke which he had longed for, and before Venzi, two other secret aspirants. Then it was Paolo Baldía's turn.

"Then fall in love! You really are a fool!' was what had been said to him by Giorgio Daula, his close friend and a longstanding friend of the Tolosani family.

'It's such a nuisance, my friend!' Baldía had answered, who was always bored. ‘I've made two attempts with no luck.’

‘Try a third time, for heaven's sake!'

'Who do you want me to fall in love with?

"Oh for goodness' sake! Pia Tolosani.’

And so, in his compliance, Baldía had made a sort of start. Had Pia Tolosani noticed? Giorgio Dàula maintained that she had; indeed, he maintained that for no one else, not even for Venzi, had she betrayed her feelings as much as she did now for him.

'What do you mean, her feelings? She is impassive!' exclaimed Baldía.

‘That's nothing! You will see. Besides, this impassivity is an assurance for you, if you are to marry her’

‘Excuse me, but why don't you marry her yourself?’

'Because I cannot, as you know! Oh, if I only could, as you can…’ (A Friend to the Wives, pp. 93-95)

#luigi pirandello #book quotes

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servin-up-surveys · 11 months

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survey #162

What’s the last app you downloaded? That woulda been the Eve period tracker, I had a crappy one for a long time and just wanted a new one. This one is a bit TOO big for me, like you can track an insane amount of stuff and I often forget how the hell just to log that my period's started or ended lol.

What’s the last outdoors concert you went to? Alice Cooper, the only concert I've ever been to.

Are you allergic to any plants? I'm allergic to pollen.

What’s the last fast food place you went to? Uhhh pretty sure McDonald's, we haven't really eaten out much, less than usual even.

Which of your friends do your parents get along best with? I mean the only real "friend" I have in my face-to-face world is my boyfriend, and both my parents love him very much.

Is there anyone in your friendship group that your parents don't like? Read above.

You see someone you dislike crying. Do you still feel bad/sorry for them? Yes, I just really hate to see people hurting, never mind to the point they're crying about it.

Any ways in which you're very different from the person you love/like? Yes, I'm very anxious and emotional, meanwhile he's great at remaining calm and is very logical.

Who was the last person to un-friend you on Facebook? I dunno, nobody important enough for me to realize they're no longer on my feed, so.

Do you know why he/she decided to unfriend you? Obviously no, but odds are it would've been sharing something anti-religious.

Do you like to have Facebook clear-ups every now and then? I'll browse through my friends rarely to remove people I no longer really desire to keep up with, but that's done rarely, I keep a small friend's list in comparison to most others I know.

Can you write in cursive? I write primarily in cursive, so yes.

Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No, but that'd be super cool!

Do you normally finish one book before starting another? Yes, always.

Do you prefer reading books, comic books, manga/graphic novels, magazines, or the newspaper? Normal books.

Book series you enjoyed reading recently? I've been reading the Wings of Fire series by Tui T. Sutherland for the past couple years. Slowly, though; I still have a book and a half until I'm done with the second plot arc.

Is your sibling missing someone right now? I don't have the slightest clue.

When was the last time you saw your ex? The beginning of February 2017.

Whose birthday did you last celebrate? My dad's.

Do you think anyone likes you? Other than my boyfriend, no, no one else romantically.

Why are you best friends with your best friend(s)? Because he never, ever gives up on me, clearly genuinely likes me the way I am, is very supportive, funny as hell, has a heart bigger than he realizes, and is just an all-around damn good person that just cares.

Do you plan on taking your husband’s last name if you ever marry? Yes, even though I hate Girt's last name more than I do mine, lol. I just want to anyway.

What did you last dream about? I can't really remember, but I know it was something really weird.

Have you ever been in the “friend zone”? No. I guess you could argue that was the case for a while with Jason after we split, but I can tell you with great confidence that that man wanted nothing to do with me, even as friends.

Have you ever had an STD? No.

What do you think it feels like to die? This isn't something I like thinking about, but I'd say it definitely depends on what you're dying from, but I would definitely assume confusion would be happening across the board as you realize your body is giving out.

Is the area you live in more liberal or conservative? Conservative as all get-out and I fucking hate it.

Do you know anyone who’s bipolar? Yes, I've been diagnosed and so has my mom's oldest daughter Katie. I'm sure I know more, too.

Do you have a lot of emotional baggage? LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL OH BROTHER

Do you like apple soda? ... holy shit, have I ever HAD an apple soda??? I do know I've tried apple carbonated water, but I did hate that, which is odd because I generally love apple-flavored anything.

Are there any writing utensils close to you? Yes, a pencil with my drawing stuff as well as a pen I keep attached to my little monthly planner.

Do you watch football regularly? No, I watch no sports ever.

Do you have a bigger upper or lower lip? Lower, but the difference isn't major.

Are you currently doing any big projects? No, not really. I need to do something creative on a large scale again...

Do you have any screen names with spelling errors? Oh no, I'd never be able to keep that.

Would you rather be a ninja or a samurai? Samurai, probably. A female samurai would be dope. (I know they historically existed, but nowadays I think we generally associate the term with men, at least here in the USA.)

What’s your first language? American English.

What’s your sexuality? Pansexual I think, but I'm quite sure I sexually prefer traditionally male individuals, but I absolutely know I'm sexually attracted to feminine people too. Maybe I wouldn't have a preference if I actually had truly sexual experiences with non-cis male partners.

What’s your hobby? Art, photography and writing specifically.

What’s something you care desperately about? LGBTQ+ rights, it is SO difficult for me to wrap my head around people having a fucking problem with consensual, age-appropriate love.

If you could spend the rest of your life with only one person, who would it be? Girt.

Does anyone know your bank pin number other than you? Who? I don't even have a bank account because I have no income, so.

Have you ever had a boyfriend/girlfriend who was depressed? Yeah, Sara. I feel like Tyler may have been depressed too, he absolutely had something going on.

Would you be able to climb out your bedroom window to sneak out? Yes.

Are your parents gullible? My dad is, he's pretty clueless lol. Mom is more skeptical.

Do you still own a VCR? Definitely not anymore.

If you were in a car accident would the last person you kissed care? Uh yes, he'd freak the hell out, especially knowing how afraid I am of cars and driving as a whole.

Do you have a second home? Well in all technicality yeah, my dad's place. Girt and his family also put lots of emphasis on making myself at home there, but I'm still getting comfortable at his place because I go there so little.

Would you be surprised if you saw the last person you texted smoking? Yes, very; my mom smoked only very briefly in her youth and has never gone back, and she also does her best to take care of her body that was immensely weakened by cancer and the intense chemotherapy it demanded; she would not be willingly putting smoke into her body.

Does the smell of cigarettes, weed, and beer repulse you? All three of them, yes.

Was the last person you kissed younger or older than you? He's a couple years older.

Have you ever purchased Girl Scout cookies? Yeah, overpriced as shit though.

Do you like sitting on the inside or outside of a restaurant booth? Outside, I like having more space.

Have you ever worn fishnets? Only fishnet gloves. I DESPERATELY want to have fishnet stockings one day though, that shit is hot as FUCK.

Does your bathroom have a window? Neither one does.

Ever dated someone you were best friends with first? Yes.

How did you meet the last male you texted? We were both in band class in high school.

What underwater creature scares you the most? Giant squid.

Was there ever a bomb threat at the school you go/went to? Yes, we had multiple during my entire time in school.

Do you befriend others because of something you might gain from them? No, what the fuck. That's textbook using somebody.

What do you feel is the ugliest part of the human body? Genitals, and I'm talking any, sex does not matter to me when it comes to me just visually being grossed out by genitals.

Do you look like an idiot when you run? I'm still in a place where I'm certain I can't truly "run;" I have more strengthening of my legs to do before I'd feel safe even trying to.

Were you brought up with Nerf toys? I mean not "brought up" with them, but we had some.

Do you daydream? I mean I think everyone does, I do a lot though.

What’s your favorite kind of dog? I love Saint Bernards, akitas and shibas, Mexican hairless, chow chows, beagles, Samoyeds, and German shepherds, among soooo many others, dogs are just stunning with so much variety, it's incredible.

Do you chew gum? Not a lot or even regularly, but yeah, I will sometimes, but generally only if it's offered to me.

Do you like gummy candies? Yes, very much. I especially love sour gummies, and gummies in general are just a texture I really enjoy.

Do you lie? I know literally nobody who doesn't at some point, I'm no exception. I definitely try to avoid it though, and I don't really think I could stomach telling anything that exceeds being a harmless white lie.

Favorite zoo animal? Meerkats, when they're cared for properly and are a sub-species that handles captivity even remotely okay. It seems to be popular to overfeed them in captivity, and having too few individuals is very bad for their health, mental and physical. I'm definitely very critical of meerkat zoo habitats just with them being my favorite animal.

What was the last thing you watched on the TV? Some Naked and Afraid with Mom yesterday; that seems to be becoming our dinner thing, lol. I've been sitting out there with her longer at dinnertime and she seems to really enjoy me sitting out there with her so I wanna do that more, I need to. We live in the same house but I rarely do things with her or even in the same room.

Do you think pets can get annoying easily? Dogs can, at least for me. I very much prefer pets like cats with their heightened independence and stuff, clingy and needy dogs can quickly become overwhelming to me.

Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I VERY much want to one day, I was actually talking about this lightly with Mom yesterday.

Have you ever flown somewhere alone? Yes, to Illinois twice. Navigating airports was extremely stressful, but I managed.

Do you know anyone who hates/dislikes chocolate? My maternal grandmother didn't like chocolate unless it was something like a Reese's.

Are there any movies out that you’d like to see? I'd like to see the new Little Mermaid, however not enough to ask Mom or Girt if they want to because I love not being able to pay for myself. I'm waiting for the Barbie movie to come out, THAT looks like so much fun.

Did your parents ever ground you? Yes, Mom did anyway. She seemed to be the one with authority over that.

What is one musical artist you wish wasn’t making music? That's mean, even if I don't enjoy an artist's music, I'm not gonna WISH they weren't, because I assure you there are people who would be really bummed if they stopped. All I have to do is not listen to an artist I don't like, they don't need to stop creating.

Were you/are you popular in high school? I wasn't, popularity was never something I wanted in school.

Anything interesting happen this past week? Exactly a week ago I got my first wisdom tooth extracted, Friday I got my tattoo finished, and Sunday me and Mom spent a great day with Girt's family.

What’s on your mind this very second? I'm hungry, didn't eat breakfast today so I'm probably gonna get something after this.

Do you correct other people’s grammar/spelling when talking to them online? No, that's such an asshole move imo, unless they're literally asking for correction. I'll generally correct grammar I find it surveys, but I'm not pointing it out or bitching about it, I'm JUST fixing it. I think it's also very important to recognize that the person you're talking to may not speak the same first language as you, and it's impressive that they can speak a non-native language AT ALL, so just keep your mouth shut about it, it is not a big deal.

Is bacon one of your favorite foods? I do enjoy bacon a lot, but it's very easy to make it too crispy and burnt-tasting for me.

Do you like things vampire-related? I think vampires are cool, yeah, but I'm not automatically interested in something just because it's vampire content.

When was the last time you saw snow? It's been a few years. :/

Have you ever felt stupid after saying something? Literally fucking always, like I'm not even exaggerating.

Are you more of a mommy’s person or a daddy’s person? I've always been more of a mama's girl.

#survey #surveys #random questions #personal questions

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dropsofletters · 3 years

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runaway silhouette [jjh]

—summary: no one asks about that polaroid picture of a woman yoonoh keeps in the depths of his wallet.

lace, measurements, models—jung yoonoh has worked for the world of fashion for a little too long, but he’s as unknown as the person next door. with his inspiration dying down and his designs getting cheaper by the day, yoonoh has changed his ways. no longer is he the best lingerie designer in ‘silhouette’, the company he works for, neither is he the playboy he used to be and the dulcet-mouthed man that got his way through success.

bad luck has settled in his life, much like it has done on hers. the manager of a hotel that slipped his fingertips when one night she denied him all—the world, her hold, her smile, and just left him with a picture on his wallet.

only when he has to prepare one of the biggest fashion showcases of his life does he meet her again, and he realizes things could never be easy between them.

why is he, a man of fashion, infatuated with such a lovesick, monotone, blazer-sporting hotel manager? no one will ever know.

a runaway has captured him, and he’s not sure how to get his heart back.

maybe, he should start by forgetting that night.

—title: runaway silhouette —pairing: jung yoonoh x reader —genre: lingerie designer!au ; hotel manager!au ; strangers to lovers to enemies!au ; slowburn!au ; slice of life!au —type: fluff ; angst ; humor ; drama ; suggestive —word count: 19,326 (i said slowburn and i meant it) —warnings: mentions of sex (the act is never on paper or narrative)

Jung Yoonoh is dressed to succeed.

With folded white sleeves and a black vest that becomes a second skin, he merges into the office like it belongs to him. It might, at some point in time; an associate after a few years and then, onto another business that was his own—vision, designs, everything. That’s the plan. His suitcase hangs, paces back and forth in the hook of his fist while all eyes cast on him while walking through the cubicles.

Today, Yoonoh is becoming the one in charge.

Silhouette is the lingerie line everyone wants to have cladding their skin. Expensive, intricate and elegant. It’s one of those things people put on when they need to feel their best while also being comfortable. Garments that enamor the buyer and the people who see them. His home for the past two years, Yoonoh has broken his ass to get to the manager position in the design department.

When settling his suitcase on his cubicle, he shares a smile with his neighbor. Johnny, part of the social media team, with his long-curled hair framing his rounded face. Fixing the collar of his shirt, Johnny interrupts him to say.

“Big day today, aye?”

Redemption, he likes to call this day. The payment for the parties he didn’t go to and the obnoxious nagging he stood from his boss, Mrs. Kang. This tall woman with atrocious so-last-season fluffed out coats in bright pink who screams at the mere sight of beige underwear. As she says, it’s tacky and simple, the kind of clothing you’d want to wear when un-turning someone on.

Yoonoh can’t wait until he can make decisions, organize collections, make bigger and better options for Silhouette to expand.

“You see, John, once I become your boss…I’m making you the leader of the PR and Social Media Team.” This place is a nest of snakes. One bite on his first day and he already became smarter. “Can’t be trusting anyone else with these babies.” With that, he opens his suitcase, sketchbook pressed to his chest just as Johnny claps his hands.

“Better position means better salary.” Johnny conquers, as casual as ever in his baby blue sweater

There are a few rules to Silhouette. To any workplace, really, and Yoonoh thinks about this just as he swings his long legs with Johnny following after him like a dog and his tail.

He had written them down in a portion of his brain that keeps his coffee order and his mom’s birthday. He’ll never forget them.

1) Never trust nobody—never say where you come from in business, where you’re headed, what your dreams and aspirations are. Copycats exist everywhere, and they’ll do anything to follow your track if you’re doing good.

2) Say goodbye to friendships but hello to hypocrisy. A smile is needed, but is it real? Not at all.

3) Differentiate your works from others. Being special is the only way you’ll stand out.

One push of the door spreads a smile on his face, brown hair pushed back to showcase his plush, rosy lips and his gleaming eyes. What’s rule number four, you may ask?

Don’t let them see how tired you are.

Mrs. Kang sits at the very end of the meeting table. Always early, never late. Her face is dense with makeup, each wrinkle becoming more apparent as she applies a third layer of bright pink lipstick. Yoonoh knows Mrs. Kang has been the biggest dictator of all—giving him more work hours, destroying the designs she didn’t like from him, and making him get jittery fingers from how much he had to sew and unsew with the sewing machine to show her what his mind had captured. Now that she had found a way younger boyfriend that is eager to give a trip to the entirety of Asia, he’s over the moon.

Because that means old and grumpy Mrs. Kang will be gone for a while, and whoever becomes manager will be, then, the one in charge.

“Mrs. Kang!” Yoonoh greets in a tone that is much too faux, his dimple becoming apparent by the second. The woman looks up and away from her compact, stopping the conversation he is having with his biggest rival in the office. Not worth even thinking about. “Classic always goes best. You look beautiful today.”

She can barely even move her features in a smile. That’s how obstinate this woman is, but one of her wrinkly hands comes up to hold Yoonoh’s bicep when he leans down to press two kisses on each of her cheeks. The old European greeting. “I know, Yoonoh.” She adds, extending her hand towards him. “May you show me your designs? I got here earlier than expected and I have something to do right now so—”

That makes Yoonoh’s smile falter the slightest, just as he opens his sketchbook and splays it in front of Mrs. Kang. “Well, Mrs. Kang, if you let me have a few of your minutes, I prepared a PowerPoint presentation and a video for the collection I have in mind as my desire to become head of the designing team—”

“Silence, Yoonoh.” Mrs. Kang interrupts, going through his lingerie designs for both men and women. It’s not the kind of job people think about when designing, but there is something about seduction and comfort that just works well for him. “I’m in the midst of planning my engagement and I don’t have the time for whatever extra thing you have in mind.”

The room is silent, but if features could talk, the woman seated next to Mrs. Kang would have burst out in laughter. Siyeon is a 4’11 piece of shit that dared steal one of his designs when in his beginnings in Silhouette. A fuchsia baby-doll that turned viral in the blink of an eye once it appeared in runways. Comfortable, sexy, with the right number of straps and the comfort of wearing it at any occasion, companion or not.

Yoonoh had left his sketch at his desk, only to find it gone the next morning. Mrs. Kang was over the moon, both from the money she got and about the audacity of the design. Siyeon had turned it in as hers.

No wonder her husband doesn’t stand her. She’s the devil reincarnate, and slips in Johnny’s DM’s every once in a while.

Yoonoh can’t say he doesn’t have some screenshots saved on his phone just in case he needs to blackmail her. This is the kind of man he has become.

“Done before.” Mrs. Kang flips onto another one of his designs. “Done before.” And then, she continues with the rest. “Vulgar. Boring. Ugly. Done before. Jesus, Yoonoh, did you even try to do anything?”

Yoonoh is used to praise. He has got it from women, throughout his time in college and even at his previous jobs. As an intern, he was refreshing and a nice sight in the designer area. Now, he is the floor Mrs. Kang steps on with her Louis Vuitton’s.

“I—” The meeting room is silent, everyone in the designer team trying to peek at his sketches. A short laugh leaves his lips, though awkward in tone. “We’ll compete against brands like Savage with designs like this. They’re brave and fitted and—”

“Boring.” Mrs. Kang completes, and Siyeon actually laughs at that moment, playing with one of her curled bright red strands of hair. “Yoonoh, I’m being serious. If the women you’re sleeping with are wearing lingerie like this…I’m worried about your sexual health.”

More laughter, and his jaw finally tightens. He tries to tell himself to smile, but he doesn’t, instead, snatching the sketchbook from her.

Mrs. Kang notices this, pushing her reading glasses down her nose before sighing. “Yoonoh, you need to learn how to take constructive criticism. You’re not perfect and I’m here to make you grow.” Says the woman that steps on him each time she can. At this point, he’s practically plastered on the floor. “I’m sure you’ll get to divert these boring ideas into something creative once Siyeon becomes the head of the department. You two have been so close since the beginning and I am sure she will work magic on you.”

“No.” Yoonoh shakes his head just as he plasters a faux smile on his features. “Ah, I—Well, I won’t—”

Siyeon stands up from her seat, fixing the sleeves of her white dress before clearing her throat. “I’m glad of getting the position and being the one, remotely, in charge of Silhouette as Mrs. Kang goes find true love.” This is not happening. Yoonoh rubs at his eyes in case he is dreaming. He has been preparing for this presentation for five months— “All I have to say is…I wouldn’t have been able to do this without the support of everyone here. My team. My heart. I have grown to have a family with you, not because we’re perfect, but because we’re together and…of course, it’s nice to continue down this path.” She hums. “A woman in charge and then, another woman. Isn’t that the whole point of Silhouette?”

His tongue scalds his palette when he takes a seat next to Mrs. Kang, closing his sketchbook with a harsh slap of his hand. Siyeon’s eyes connect to his own, fluttering her dense mascara-coated lashes before sighing.

“I had the pleasure of seeing Yoonoh in his first few days here and he has lost that spark, but I’m sure we’ll find it again.” Oh, everyone gets roses but he gets a few, too. For his social funeral, that is. He really wants to get out of there as soon as possible. “I’m thankful.”

There go the tears, and Siyeon covering her face with her hand, a smile hidden behind the action.

…Has he ever said he hates working in Silhouette?

“You’re going to make me cry, too.” One of the members of the manufacturing team says in between big sobs and Yoonoh can’t help but roll his eyes.

Fuck this place.

After an elongated meeting with tearful hugs and looks thrown his way, Yoonoh is ready to find somewhere else to work in. Keep to himself until he dares get his curriculum somewhere else and stab this company straight in the back. Not because he didn’t get the job…but…

Let’s be honest, it’s because he didn’t get the job and he lost it to Siyeon.

Johnny slips around a few hours later with some cheeseburgers in a plastic bag, dense in cheese and stinking the two conjoined cubicles before he says:

“She’s the devil.”

“An exorcism wouldn’t be enough for her.” Yoonoh replies, tongue itching to say something when he unleashes the cheeseburgers from their confines. He’s only five minutes away from lunchtime, after all. “I can’t believe they gave it to her. Her designs are…I don’t know, like lace over lace. That’s not elegant, that’s not what Silhouette stands for—”

“Here’s the thing,” Johnny says, smacking his lips as he speaks with a mouthful of burger in his mouth. “You never had a chance.”

A pang rests in the pit of his heart when he scoffs. “Yes, I did.”

“No, you don’t.” His friend replies. “Everyone in this office hates you but me. I believe it is a Freudian theory. The Jung Yoonoh Effect.” Voiced out like a movie trailer, Johnny extends one of his hands in the air.

“Sorry for not caring about anything but business. Everyone here are suck-asses and crybabies. Why should I care?”

“Because people feel disconnected to you. They don’t to Siyeon.” Johnny conquers. “The Jung Yoonoh Effect is simple.”

“Stop it. You don’t even know who Freud is.”

“That one psychologist that compared everything to sex. That’s who he is. Hence, why you’re there.”

Yoonoh quirks an eyebrow, playing with a slice of meat that had gotten out of his burger. “What are you even talking about?”

“Interns always thirst over you. At least, five out of every nine people in this office has had a wet dream about you, liked enough of your Instagram pics to look like a freak, or would have your dick in a second if the second step of your effect wouldn’t come around.”

“…I’m not that bad of a guy.”

“But you’re bland. Work. Work. Work.” Johnny moves his hand as if it’s talking. Now he’s playing marionettes. Great. “We’re selling lingerie, and you are always about competition and work. We need you to be passionate.”

“Passionately suck up to people?” Yoonoh shakes his head, huffing in the process. “No thanks, man. I’m not going to lower myself to Siyeon’s standards. Not sure I want to get pink eye from kissing so much ass.”

“Been there, done that.” Johnny sighs, a smile displayed on his features. “I’m just saying, bro. Maybe, change the game—”

Something Yoonoh is…stubborn. He’d die with that title, and it is only enhanced when he feels a long nail tapping on his shoulder, making him turn around. He expects to see one of those interns that try to stumble out words when asking him for his e-mail to send him the summaries or designs they have worked on, but this time around, he is met with Siyeon’s face.

“No eating until lunchtime.” She tuts, shaking her finger in the air.

This means war.

Yoonoh points at the clock on his wrist, showing it to her. Rolex, maybe, he’s spoiling himself with the benefit of showing her he has also earned some money, designs mediocre or not. “It’s already my lunchtime.”

“Not to me.” Siyeon answers, straightening her back. “Maybe, you’d like to listen to me before I kick you out of the team, don’t you, Yoonoh?”

With that, he pushes the burger onto his desk, covering it just as Siyeon smiles.

“Good boy.” She coos, laughing when she turns around and returns to giving a run-around the office.

“That’s it.” Yoonoh whispers, running his hands through his hair, not caring if he messes it up in the process. “I’m designing the best fucking collection one could ever find and showing everyone in this goddamned office that I have talent.”

“Ooh, and where do you think you’ll get inspiration from?” Johnny tries to gossip, and Siyeon’s soft touch for him is shown when she doesn’t even spare him a glance as he munches on his burger.

“I think I have someone in mind.”

###

She’d color-code her life if she could. Hence, it’s still a mess, and while she is as organized as she could be, her mind is still trying to process how to keep the hotel she works in safe and sound and quiet.

One would think that being the manager of a hotel would be easy. A three-star-hotel, no celebrities, no paparazzi’s, definitely not enough rich people who care about their environment. As long as she made it homely, clean, and nice to stay in, it wouldn’t be much of an issue.

The problem is…everything is a mess.

For one, her boss, Sachiko, has not appeared in the last two days into the hotel. None of her well-prepared summaries, in Times New Roman twelve, with enough punctuation to make it look like a contract, have been read. The maids keep talking amongst themselves, gossiping instead of cleaning. They got a bad review on their restaurant because the head of the cooking team had decided to shout to one of the clients about how ‘they didn’t have an ounce of taste’ because they disliked the taste of his Ratatouille and oh, how to forget? The fact that her duties as a manager transcend to something else.

She rushes through the kitchen, heat and smoke accompanied by the sizzling of veggies and meat. She doesn’t care that there are flames around her, or that she bumps into one of the cooks in the process.

Sachiko has a mini version of herself, gift of a getaway with her ex-husband to try to make her marriage work. Then, came the five-year-old that had slipped her hold as she was attending one of the residents in their hotel at the entrance, granting them information about the type of rooms they offered. Erika, in all her round-faced glory with grabby hands and too much energy, had slipped from her line of sight and her hold.

She has roamed the entire hotel and she can’t find her.

Oh, then, she should change her statement that she hasn’t seen Sachiko in two days. She has. Sachiko’s heels have clicked against the tiles of this hotel. Only to leave Erika with her, spitting out excuses about having to get on another meeting for the expansion of the hotel, before she’s off the hook of being a full-time mother.

She doesn’t even get more payment for this.

“Have you seen Erika?!” She asks out loud, voice strained from so much shouting, only to watch the head chef speak, his moustache moving with each word he says.

“Oh, little Erika?” Well, seems like he has a soft spot for someone. His eyes glimmer, just as he wraps his hand around his mouth, as if to utter a secret. “She’s in one of the tables. She asked for two milkshakes already. Oreo milkshakes. She’s starting to jitter.”

“Mr. Oh!” She whines, throwing her head back with a groan before splaying her hands on her hips. Navy blue uniform as a simple suit giving her the most boring yet comforting outfit she could come up with. “I am the one that has to get her to sleep, and if she has sugar before bed, she won’t even close an eye—”

Mr. Oh shrugs. “What am I supposed to say? She’s my boss’ daughter.”

“I am your boss as well.”

“You’re getting me fired?”

She can’t even answer to him, hearing the Baby Shark song spoken at the top of someone’s little lungs. Her feet are rushing out of the kitchen by the time she notices it, blazer opening up when she gets to the table Erika is in. Red walls and marble tables don’t scare her, playing with the straw of her drink and grabbing someone’s phone to listen to that fucking song again.

“Erika…” She tuts, voice stern, hands spread out on her knees. This cardio routine has been enough to make her burn all she has eaten this month. The little girl’s short hair caresses her cheeks when she turns towards her, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go to your room and wait for mommy to get here.”

“Nope.”

“Yes, Erika. I am not playing.” Her voice levels itself, only to have Erika staring back at her. Big brown eyes blinking, playing with the edge of her pretty pink dress before sighing.

“But you won’t let me…let me watch my shows.” She takes in a breath, shuddering it out as a pout splays on her lips. “Y—You…mommy said you’d be with me, but you aren’t with me at all—”

Tears wield her eyes and she has to rush to cage her in her hold, hoisting her up before a big wail left her lips and she lost her job. “I’m sorry, Erika. I’ve been so busy, I hadn’t realized.” She mumbles out, pressing her cheek to the top of her head before sighing. “Do you want to give a walk around the hotel and go back to your room to watch as many shows as you want?”

She has to play good cards here. She’s not raising this child, after all, so if the long hours of TV-watching make her turn out bad when she’s a teen…that’s not her business.

Erika nods continuously, engulfing her arms around her shoulders. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

At least, she has found Erika before Sachiko arrives the next morning, but her body practically glues itself to the floor in tiredness by the time she slips out of the restaurant.

The best part of being a manager is when she gets back home.

###

“So, you’re saying you practically lost your job?”

Yoonoh’s life revolves one thing. Those four walls of his cubicles, the connections he has gotten from his workplace and his elongated list of explanations that always go unheard. In any other occasion, he would have been delighted of being given the benefit of lying. Casual relationships are more of his thing and explaining his every insecurity, recollection of time or worry isn’t part of the plan. Carnalities? Sure thing.

A hook-up turned friend with benefits pushing him by the chest and practically gasping when he sighs? He didn’t think it’d end this way.

“Mia,” His voice rasps out, leaning back on his calves while hovering over her. Her bed is as pristine as always, the rosy satin sheets from last week turned into beige, deep fibers that do sound too elegant for them to do whatever they are thinking of in the bed. “I didn’t lose my job, I just didn’t become the head of my department, okay?”

He’s trying to spell it out, but the model is just as confused. Mia had modelled for Silhouette a bunch of times in the last two years, and that’s how he met her. Fitting one of his designs to her will had led him to be asked out on a date and then, the contract came about. Just sex, nothing more.

Mia scrambles away from underneath him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as if repulsed. As if she had kissed an ogre itself. “Yoonoh, you’re practically jobless—!”

“I am not.” He sighs out, trying his hardest to concentrate on anything around the room. The tall ceilings, the conversation at hand, anything but the obvious problem in his boxers right now. “I swear, I will just be working for Siyeon but it’s for a period of time. I’m sure I’ll get her position soon enough.”

“Oh my God,” Mia pushes her long brown hair away from her shoulders, widening those innocent eyes of hers, sharp cheekbones lifting in distaste—not even a smile of comprehension. “I can’t believe I almost slept with a good for nothing. You told me you’d get that job and now you didn’t?”

“A good for nothing?” Yoonoh stands up from that bed, hands on his hips when Mia nods, once and then twice.

“Your dick is good, but not that good.”

Is this the day Yoonoh’s ego gets bruised to shattered little pieces that poke at his feet like glass? Perhaps.

Is this the day Yoonoh lets that pang of pain in his chest become visible? Not at all.

“Were you just with me because I was probably going to be a manager?”

“Silhouette is—listen, they are established, but it’s not what I had in mind.” Mia puts on her robe, covering her Goddess-crafted body before picking up a glass of the wine they had been sharing. “If you became manager, I’d have more connections with other teams. I would probably be in better runways and—”

“I’m not your manager or your little linking buddy, Mia.” Yoonoh complains, chest flushed when he seethes, pushing the strands of his dark hair away from his face. “We’re just having fun. I wasn’t going to bring you as my plus one when we had already established—”

“I don’t know if you notice,” She starts, licking her lips in elegance. “But you’re…you’re going to end up alone, Yoonoh. All you do is work, you’re always tense and silent and…a little bit boring, if I’m being honest. I am definitely the closest thing you’ll ever have to a relationship.”

Oh, no. That’s the thing he hates the most. How the world has been divided in romanticists and hard-workers. You’re one of the other, can’t ever be both, and sometimes, he feeds into that stereotype. He knows he doesn’t have time to fully sit down and talk to someone about his interests, let his heart be wandered about like a museum, but somehow…hearing anyone tell him that he’s tense, silent, boring…doesn’t sit well with him.

He shrugs, eager to poke just like done to him. “Good thing I never wanted a relationship with you to start with.”

Mia gasps at that, plush lips parted before she’s opening the window of her one-floor home. Elegant, but still not the grandest thing out there. “Oh, is that so?”

“You happen to be presumptuous, superficial and now, a complete opportunist—” He says, walking behind her until she turns around, her robe falling off one shoulder when she points at the window, crisp air whisking the tension around.

“Then, leave.”

“Okay.” He’s about to turn around and grab his clothing, when he feels her tugging at his taut forearm.

“Not through the door. You don’t get the benefit to do that.” Once again, Mia is pointing at the window and that catches a chuckle out of Yoonoh, that rises and rises in tone.

“I won’t get out through there.”

“I didn’t ask you. I told you to.” With that, she’s pushing at his chest, trying to get him out as he scrambles to get a hold of her.

“Mia! Are you fucking insane?!”

“Tired of your bullshit, Yoonoh. That’s it.”

Mia is, perhaps, not stronger than him, but for someone who walks on runways…she’s mad strong. Maybe, it’s the necessity to get him out of her home or the flying atrocity of her train of thought that has him stumbling backwards in one of those moments. In just his boxers, the prickling of the grass and the flowers in Mia’s garden caress and poke at his skin, tickling in enormous amounts just as he falls into the most embarrassing position he has been in.

The moonlight seeps over his skin, a groan ripping from the depths of his soul at the ache on his back when he hears the window closing, not without a few words from Mia: “And don’t you dare call me again, asshole.” And maybe, he would have laughed at the stupidity of the statement, because throwing someone out of a window is definitely not a reason to call someone back, but now, he’s much too surprised and in pain.

###

She wishes she was back to being a kid.

It’s a thought she has when the days are tough and uncertainty fills her, like a vase that is neither half full or half empty, but just stuck. In this town, with a job that she had wished for years ago, that takes away every ounce of will and thrive that she ever had. Days are tiring, nights even more so, and sometimes, she wishes the lake would stop being so calm. For it to be some movement, some waves, some dance of life that tells her: ‘this is something new and I give it to you because you deserve it’.

Instead, she’s walking alongside Erika, whose little feet in her elegant tiny boots are kicking a rock on the sidewalk. They had decided to walk for another block near the hotel, houses scattered in their glow in this enchanting night. It’s a moment of quiet, and she relishes on it, sending a look to the rock and to the little girl, just in case she’s not warm enough or she’s tired.

Oh, how she wishes she was tired.

Erika calls out her name, soft and through a pout, in a way that makes her sound like her age. Very much little a baby. “…Why do…why do girls your age never like boys?”

“What do you mean?” She questions, a smile on her face when sparing Erika a glance. A shrug is given. “I think boys are cool. Not all boys, but some are.”

“Mom doesn’t like my dad, and he’s a boy.” That must be the way she explains her parents’ divorce, but how she’s involved in that? She has no idea. “You…you don’t have a boy. I never hear you talk about boys.”

You see, she hasn’t dated in a while. A while as in…years. Comes to be, building trust into someone after having another person shatter it for you is not only difficult, but somehow near impossible. A plane ticket had said farewell to her in-person relationship and she had embarked in this immense long-distance relationship with too many tears and too much longing. He was distant after a while, and she blamed it on time differences…

Time differences that were proven to be someone else when she called him to tell him she had saved money for seven months just to visit him, only to hear him with another woman.

Another woman who claimed to be his girlfriend of four years.

Not one. Not two. Not three. Not even three and a half. Four.

“I don’t know.” She starts, trying to find the best way to say this. “We don’t always need a boy, Erika. Us girls, we don’t. The only people we need are our family, our friends and ourselves. Princesses can still be pretty and have a lot of people looking up to them without a prince.”

“Like Moana?”

“And Merida.” She completes, a smile on her face when she tugs the little girl up to scoop her in her hold. “Your mom has a hotel and she takes care of it very well without a boy. That doesn’t mean your daddy is not important, but they are happy even when he doesn’t have a girl and she doesn’t have a boy.”

“Then,” Erika plays with the collar of her white button-down. “We all have to be in pairs?” She stops.

“You mean couples?” Erika nods. “Oh no, honey, not all of us have to be in pairs or be part of a couple.” She chuckles at Erika’s innocence. She must be a bit insufferable, but still a kid. With the nightly air blowing at her face, she sighs. “We can all be with anybody, depending on who we like, girls…boys…your mom has told you that, right?”

Humming, Erika opens her mouth to speak up. “Yep.”

“Good girl.” She coos, smiling in the process. “Do you know what decision means?”

“Yes.” Erika conquers. “Carrots or potatoes, like that.”

“Exactly. What you choose is your decision.” She’s trying to make this easy for her. “Your mom doesn’t have to love a man, because that is her decision. As long as she loves herself and you, she’s already complete.”

“And you?” Erika questions.

She hadn’t thought about it in years. It didn’t feel right to be next to someone else, and she doesn’t know if that falls on her a little bit. Loneliness is inherent, this wandering thought that comes to her when she stops and wonders if there is someone out there. Not to complete her, because she’s already full by being on her own, but to support her.

“I am complete, too.” The answer is simple, tucking a strand of Erika’s hair behind her curved little ear. “So are you.”

“I am complete!”

“Yes, you are.”

Something interrupts them just as they pass by a cream-colored house. A groan comes from the flowers planted in the front-yard, and that has her stopping. Flowers don’t talk, obviously, but if someone is hurt—a dog or a human, she has to check.

More groaning and then, she sees a peak of milky skin under the moonlight, paired with tousled black hair. A man is standing in between the bushes, with his lower half thankfully covered by the plants, a short small nose, decently sized lips and a face that speaks anything but a good time.

And he’s half-naked. Only in boxers.

Her hand comes upwards to cover Erika’s eyes just as a loud gasp leaves her lips and she screeches: “Pervert!”

“No, no, no!” The man in question shushes her, lowering his body until even his taut chest and abdomen are covered. His eyes widen comically, and she has to shut her mouth to hear him speak. “I’m not a pervert, I promise! I know this looks wrong but—”

“You’re hiding in the bushes without clothes on, sir. This is definitely something illegal—”

“I was with a woman,” He sends a look towards Erika, levelling his words just because a kid is there, trying to snatch her hand away, but its grip is tight like iron. “And she threw me out because we had a break-up. Kind of. Not serious enough to call it a break up but…my clothes are inside and she won’t let me in. I’ve tried for such a long time. I was hiding until someone passed by but…no one did.”

Still far away from him, she quirks an eyebrow. This relatively, conventionally handsome man had been kicked out by a woman…almost ass-naked?

Talk about an attitude.

“Well, I’ll call someone over to help you out—” She’s about to move again, not completely trusting the man in the bushes when he calls her over with a hiss from his lips. A mix of ‘psst!’ and ‘hey!’ that obnoxiously makes her stop to turn around, still covering Erika’s eyes. “What?”

His eyes glisten when he says: “Help me.” He must be some kind of boss. The stranger says these two words like she has to do it, and she would have turned around again had it not been for those plush lips saying: “Please.”

“What do you want?” She questions, only to have him smiling.

Oh, there is a dimple there. A very profound and albeit, a bit attractive, dimple.

“Clothes.” The stranger adds. “Can you buy me some clothes? I promise I’ll pay you. I just need to get out of here. I think a cockroach bit me in the ass.”

“Language.” She spits out, just as Erika tries to wiggle away from her hold and repeats:

“Ass!”

“Erika!”

“Sorry.” He says again, bringing his hands together in a plea before sighing out: “I need them right now.”

She fixes Erika’s hold around her body, before rolling her eyes hard enough so she cans see the back of her head. “Fine. I’ll find you some clothes.”

###

Erika won’t take care of the family business. She’ll be a stylist, for sure.

The only thing opened at this hour of the night that doesn’t cost her a big portion of her salary is the thrift store and after endlessly explaining the situation to a very eager Erika, she is watching the little girl moving around the store as if she owns it, grabbing clothes here and there in a hassle.

“Erika, be careful. We can only pick three pieces of clothing!” Not that the teenager by the counter cares, popping his bubblegum in between his thin lips, looking down at his phone and tapping on it with a speed that a piano player would envy.

“We have to make him look cute.” Erika tries to say in her most professional voice, and she has to sigh. She will definitely not become a mother anytime soon.

“Yes, but we also have to make it cheap. I don’t have much money in this suit.”

“Yes, yes.” Somehow, she feels like Erika is not listening, pulling at a t-shirt on a table nearby, only to unfold it and give it to her. Her body is so small that she couldn’t see the imprint on the front. As her babysitter of the night, she expands it over her chest, only to watch something within Erika lighting up. “I like it!”

“Good,” She checks the price after muffling a laugh at the words written at the front. “It’s cheap. We can get it.”

Small steps patter against the tiles of the grand store before she’s tugging at the leg of a pair of pants she found on a rack, too tall for her to grab.

“This, this, this, I want this!”

Those ones are a little bit pricier, but when she gets them out of the rack, a smile finally spreads through her features. She has to get it. “You have a gut for styling, little one.”

Erika straightens her back in pride, fisting her small hands before nodding. “Thank you. Want me to buy one for you?”

She chuckles at her words. Definitely not, but she masks it by saying. “We don’t have enough money tonight. Another time.”

###

Props to the man whom now she knows is called Jung Yoonoh…he doesn’t look half as bad in those clothes as anyone else would.

The milky way spreads on Erika’s pupils when she leans on the table that she had taken up in the hotel’s restaurant a little bit over an hour ago. Her line of sight is filled with none other than Yoonoh, whom she had practically cried to just to invite him to have dinner with the two of them. Erika has practically eaten her weight in Oreo milkshakes, but she can’t quite say she is not starving by the time she slips into the leather seats and she smells the delicious cooking from the kitchen.

Compare that to the bland sandwich she has in her locker.

The little girl talks even out of her elbows. Yoonoh, however, patiently listens, trying to keep up with the grand story she has for the outfit she had picked for him. That explains why people take second-glances towards him. Not that he is not handsome enough; the lighting at that house his girl had kicked him out of did not do justice to his chiseled, quite carved face, but there is something about his clothing that captures most of the attention.

A pair of pink flip flops that Erika had picked up at last after they both forgot about shoes. Tight red leather pants that showcase the strength and curve of his thighs, quite lean, elongated legs that she had taken a second look at when seeing him out of the bushes with some clothes on. And, how to forget the old, quite used black tank top that reads: ‘With a body like this, who needs a personality?’.

She had laughed when she saw him.

Her fingers dip her fries on some ketchup by the time Yoonoh does so, sparing her a glance over Erika’s shoulder when the little girl says:

“My friend doesn’t need boys.” The girl adds, wrapping her hands around her mouth before saying. “But don’t feel offended, she still finds boys cool.”

“Some of them.” She corrects, connecting her gaze with Yoonoh’s just as the man leans back on his seat, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Oh, words from a broken heart. Who hurt you?” He questions, quirking one of his eyebrows before taking a bite of the fried chicken he had insisted on getting. Something about those brown eyes seem to capture her perfectly, as if reading her like a book…and she doesn’t like it.

“I’m just too busy to care.” Her voice wavers the slightest when letting out her excuse and then, she scoffs. “You know, that happens when you’re the manager of a hotel.”

“Understandable.” Yoonoh nods a few times before that dimple appears again. “Too busy to care or too busy to date?”

Her face burns by the time Yoonoh asks that question, pleased with the way she widens her eyes. “When did we decide to make me the subject of our conversation?”

“You saw me half-naked, I get to know something about you other than the pressed suits and the obvious distrust issues.” Yoonoh’s tone is playful, that smile never erased from his features, while her frown deepens. She can’t say he’s not correct, but he’s also poking at her nerves with his words.

“I don’t have trust issues.”

He hums. “Your first reaction is to say no to everything. You deny every word that is thrown your way.”

“Because I happen to think guys like you just feel like they know it all.” She comments, taking the same position as him while crossing one leg over the other. Erika just looks between the two, trying to understand this conversation to no avail. “You read and read people, but I can read you well, Yoonoh.”

He expands his arms, showing that ridiculous shirt. May be half true, his body is great, and his personality may be a little bit insufferable. “Read me.”

“Bachelor with a good job who has that ‘rise and grind’ mentality. Don’t take relationships seriously. Can’t look past what’s in front of him and oh, trust issues, too.” She relishes on leaning over the table, watching as his eyes concern the rest of her face, taking in her every feature before his gaze delves down to the fold of her shirt, no buttons opened, but he’s trying to see something there.

“You want me to look at what’s in front of me?” He questions. “It’s you. Didn’t know that was your way of flirting with me. Guess I really do have to thank you for the…outfit.”

“And me!” Erika raises her hand, waiving it in the air happily.

His tutting tone changes when smiling at her. “Thank you, Erika.”

“Who hurt you, Jung Yoonoh?” She questions, mocking the tone he had used on her and trying to stop a smile from appearing on her lips. So, playing around with him is fun, as it seems.

He stops for a moment, as if thinking. The curve of his mouth falls down the slightest and she hears a breath-in that she overthinks about, noticing that there is pain in even the brightest of people. Instead, he shrugs. “I haven’t gotten my heart broken.” Yoonoh says, playing with the strands of his hair, curves of his arms contorting. “Want to be the first to break it, sweetheart?”

“You wish.” She scoffs, only to have Yoonoh dipping more of his fries in ketchup.

“You wouldn’t even kill an ant.” Yoonoh swats without importance. “I doubt you’d break my heart.”

“I wouldn’t want to break your heart, and that’s what differentiates us.” She points between them. “Good cop, bad cop.”

“Excuse me.” A tender voice cuts through the air around us, a young-looking guy with innocent features and glasses too big for his face waves a Polaroid camera in his hold when nearing them. “May I take a picture of you? I have a photography project for a class I’m taking in college and I need to take pictures that bring nostalgia and warmth. I happened to think your little family could be the perfect subject.”

Before she could fully deny they are a family, Erika is wrapping both her little arms around their shoulders as she settles at the center of the table, smiling at the camera. “Cheese!”

Two pictures are taken before she could fully bring a smile to her face, her eyes connecting to Yoonoh’s over the table in a look that she can’t quite recognize. His smile has erased but still, he’s the one to take the picture when the college student says:

“One for you, one for me.” He says, bowing slightly. “Thank you.”

With that, he is gone, but the effect of his picture lingers when she realizes where she is. A complete stranger sits at the same table as her, trying to figure each other our while she should have put Erika to bed long ago, continue with her job and not even look to the sides to see whose lives are coexisting while she’s just working.

“Sorry.” She stands up, shaking her head at her own antics. Helped him, she had already done, and now she has no business to sit with him, grab a bite and just pretend that she doesn’t have things to do. Yoonoh looks up from the picture, eyebrows furrowed when she grabs Erika by the arms and hoists her up. “I—I have to work. I don’t…I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t be here with you.”

“Why?” Yoonoh questions, voice softened when she shakes her head.

“I just shouldn’t.” She finishes, not knowing quite well what this feels like. Casually flirting with a man like him means trouble. “Goodbye, Yoonoh.”

She says those words with the harshest weight of the world, turning around and rushing out of the restaurant while Erika screams out Yoonoh’s name in need for more fun in the night. Nonetheless, she feels someone’s eyes trailing after her, but she knows one look over her shoulder would only bring more questions to her head.

What was the universe trying to do when putting him on her road?

###

There is a picture in his wallet that doesn’t even begin to answer the questions roaming his head. As confused as in the beginning, Yoonoh remains.

He doesn’t know why he stares at it after finishing his meal during lunchtime, the office emptied out of people, flicking at the corner of the Polaroid he would not show anyone even if they paid him a billion won. He just wouldn’t. That ridiculous shirt and those obnoxiously tight pants that definitely gave him a carpet burn that he’s still feeling two days later, should have been enough of a reason not to wonder about the sudden change of mind the hotel manager had.

Maybe, he had offended her. Though, she had kept on playing his game—and he half meant what he said. People like her are easy to read. Definitely an organization freak, perhaps a bit nerdy, with enough worries in her mind to fill an entire book. She wasn’t wrong about his trust issues either, but as he splays his fingertips on top of her placement in the picture, the only one who is not fully smiling, he ponders…

What’s about this girl that has his mind bringing her back all the time?

He closes his wallet just as he opens his sketchbook. A new one, because in his hassle, he had ripped the other that he had filled with all his dreams and hopes. He had crafted bodies, all in different sizes, to design something…and nothing had come to mind, not until he saw her again. That treasure hidden under baggy suits and clothes that he would have never looked at twice if only he hadn’t been captured by the naïve elegance in her face.

His eyes had tried to look, capture a glimpse of the curves around her body, and his imagination gave him more than what he could actually perceive. Yet, it had been enough. Flipping through his color scheme cards, he compares it to the vision he had inside his brain. Conservative, but still enough to feel powerful…

Violet. He doesn’t know why he picks it, but he does.

His fingers can’t stop sketching over the model he has on his sketchbook. He imagines lace and stain, draped thin pieces of clothing over the shoulders. Enough coverage for a one piece…and it comes to him in the form of a muse he would have never imagined. Someone who did not even show him anything, never gave him a chance to talk or fly, because that’s what he had never tried. What Silhouette had never stood for.

The people who are too shy to wear something like what they design.

Attractiveness is a feeling most people should get used to. Being looked at in an adoring light or have a flower thrown their way in the form of a compliment is desired, but has been lost in the eye of lust. Every word of adoration these days has been related to something—the imminent stoppage of the moment for the promise of sex. Never had Yoonoh thought of his designs as something more than a form of self-seduction, with the portrayal of self-love as a higher force for lust, but now, he sees it again.

Lingerie shouldn’t be seducing. It should be a weapon of beauty; a piece of clothing to be taken into consideration, colors that merge well with one’s personality. Not everyone is ready to fully unveil themselves in the light of the sexualized society we live in. Sometimes, people just want to feel nice fabrics against their skin or a glimmer of gorgeousness without showing everything.

The magic of designing is in delicacy.

The ideas come to him then. What was once a two piece for Yoonoh, now is one. What was once see-through, now makes up for riskiness in designs and curves, fabrics added to give more structure, instead of more nudity. Lingerie doesn’t have to be a thin layer of clothing—it can be beautiful, crafted and built.

His e-mail dings with a new entrance, stopping him on his third design as he envisions what must be under that suit—what would fit her and other working people for needing a boost, without actually showing the clothing to anyone but themselves, but soon enough, his face falls at Siyeon’s e-mail.

Subject: The Boss Wants You to Work.

Greetings, my beloved Yoonoh,

Silhouette has been known for its strong stance in the fashion community, and I have been pleased to land a runway show for us in, specifically, twenty-nine (29) days. In light of this, I send you the list of things you have to do:

1) Design a set for the main male model of the runway, Kim Jungwoo. It has to be a showstopper if you want to keep working with him. I need this to be sent in 6 days.

2) Find a nice and not as expensive place for the publicity photoshoot to take part on. I don’t want simple. I need ravishing visuals.

3) Talk to the newbie models and make sure that said day, the stylists don’t screw up.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Jeon Siyeon.

Yoonoh rolls his eyes before starting to type a reply. The devil must be in front of her computer.

Subject: [RE]: The Boss Wants You to Work.

Hello,

I had already started working on a female set. I’m a female lingerie designer. I think I am not the one in charge of Jungwoo’s outfit.

Sincerely,

Jung Yoonoh.

The response comes just as he begins scrabbling his ideas into paper once again.

Subject: Who asked?

I want you to work on Jungwoo’s outfit. See if you get better while working on boxers instead of bras.

Not as sincerely,

Jeon Siyeon.

Spreading one hand on top of his sketchbook, he rubs the bridge of his nose before he breathes in deeply. Okay, now it seems like he has to craft something for a model that he doesn’t even know about, as well as finding the place for a photoshoot. An assistant, he seems to be now, and Siyeon’s, nonetheless.

But a place comes to mind, soon enough.

###

Devastation comes short to the wails that leave the kid’s lips. That speaks of pleas and pain.

Over a week of Sachiko coming up with different meetings had led up to an expected, yet somewhat uncalculated, road trip to where she hopes to build her second hotel. That said, she won’t stay for a day or two, but for the entirety of two weeks away from Erika. The daughter that now clings onto Sachiko like a koala, hiding her face in the crook of her neck, black hair matching her own as she cries uncontrollably.

Sachiko is at her apartment’s doorstep, luggage by the side of her elongated legs, as she shushes her daughter with a worried gaze. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” Then, she calls out her name, trying to wipe the tears in her eyes with just one hand. “You’ll be taken care of…and I will be back before you know it.”

“Why do you leave?!” Erika screeches, and Sachiko tries her best to reason with her, but her own whines are stopping her.

So, with her pajamas and tiredness lingering within her, she places a hand on top of Erika’s back. “Because your mom wants you to have a great life, Erika. She wants to buy you all you need and for you to have dreams as big as hers.” Maybe, she won’t get it now, but it’s the best she can do to explain the situation.

It manages to make Erika turn around, blinking her tears onto her cheeks. “I don’t want her to go.”

“We’ll mark the calendar…and she’ll come soon enough.” She whispers out, and it’s at this moment that she regrets saying yes to Sachiko when she asked her to take care of her daughter for a little while longer.

A little while longer shouldn’t mean two weeks.

Still, Erika doesn’t let go of her mom. She’s glued to her.

“I made you some hot chocolate, and I have some pudding that I prepared for me earlier.” Because sugary sweet meals seem to make her feel better in these days of uncertainty. This makes Erika widen her eyes, looking back at her mom before questioning her with a small smile.

“There you go, there’s my smiling baby.” Sachiko finishes, putting her daughter down before looking down at her watch. “My taxi is waiting for me. You can call me tomorrow, Erika, okay?”

“Yes, mommy!” But Erika is already moving towards the kitchen to grab a mug of that sweet, sweet hot chocolate.

She knows sweets are her weak point.

The only weak point she has.

“Make sure she sleeps early, okay?” Sachiko says, and all she can do is nod.

“Sure thing.” I can’t promise a thing, she thinks.

“And that she doesn’t eat too many sweets. I’ll let this one slide.”

“Only veggies.” She says as she grabs her doorframe in between her hold. Only to give her something sweet after she throws the veggies at my face, her mind replies.

“Thank you.” Sachiko adds over her shoulder, a smile to her face. “I know it’s difficult, but I really don’t have any family to take care of her and I really do trust you. I promise to pay you well after all this.”

That’s a nice start.

“Don’t worry. Me and Erika get along well.” That’s not a lie, but taking care of a kid is extremely tiring. “Just get in your taxi. We’ll be fine.”

With that, minutes pass by of complete silence, Erika’s eyes trained on her phone, blasting Peppa Pig, with one or two hiccups escaping here and there as she drinks her first mug of chocolate. She joins her, slicing another bit of cake and shrugging off whatever thought appears inside her brain.

The chocolate merges on the roof of her mouth, warming her to the tip of her toes, each aching muscle after hours of working relaxing, even a bit entranced by the show she’s not watching, but might be brain-washing her just like the rest of the kids.

“Another one, please.” Erika says after finishing her episode, extending her mug of chocolate towards her before she smiles sweetly.

She shakes her head. “Mom said no sweets.”

“Please?” The little girl drags with dulcetness in her tone, but she repeats the previous action.

“Nope.”

Erika places the mug down, head laying low before she repeats: “Chocolate, please!”

“I said nope.”

The kid stops for a moment, thinking as the sound of the dishwasher starting up as she cleans the mugs and the plates, and just then, her small voice is heard again:

“You don’t give me chocolates because you’re sad about Yoonoh?”

That makes her halter all steps. Yoonoh. The man that she had met days ago. Adonis without a shirt on, and then some weird 2011 wannabe that happened to have dinner with her and Erika. The lingering flirtations between the two had not been forgotten, those pair of eyes that somehow seemed to want to strip her of her utmost secrets, only for her to back away.

Yoonoh means trouble.

“I am not sad about Yoonoh.” She adds, turning around with her damp hands ending up over her waist. “Why do you think I’m sad about him?”

“Because he’s your boy!” Erika screeches as if it’s the most obvious thing, and she’s starting to get tired of the kid’s insane romanticism mixed with optimism. Sure, she’s a kid, but Disney should start making less princesses with a prince. “Mommy explained it to me.”

“What did she explain?” Not that she’s understanding a thing, but please, she does need to be enlightened.

“I asked mommy how people acted when they were in pairs.”

“When they are couples.”

“Yep!” The grin on her chubby cheeks is enchanting, but by what she’s saying, she’s about to ask Sachiko to pick her up again. The love talk is not her thing. “And she said boys smile a lot and they speak weirdly, like things I can’t understand.” That is a way to put it. “And the girl looks down a lot…and I don’t remember what else she said, but you did all those things with Yoonoh. He is your boy!”

“Boyfriend, not boy.” She corrects, turning around to continue to wash the dishes. Was he smiling at her? She had seen the dimple, but she hadn’t thought that he had beamed around like a madman. “And he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t have one.”

“But why?” Erika drags her voice.

“We already had the talk of Moana and Merida.”

“I get that. I’m like them. I don’t want to be with boys.” She utters innocently, standing up to tug at her sleeve. “But you are with Yoonoh.”

“Oh, no.” She shakes her head, laughter escaping her lips. “You hit your head, Erika.”

“I didn’t!” The little girl says, scratching her head just in case. “You’re a princess. He’s a prince—”

“Erika!” She stops her, interrupting her with ease before sighing. “I met Yoonoh the day we saw him, and I didn’t like him that way. We aren’t even friends.”

She juts out her lip. “I wasn’t friends with Mina either.” That’s Erika’s best friend from school. “But we became friends in a day. She put a worm in the teacher’s sandwich…” Her voice becomes soft, a blush appearing on her face. “It was awesome.”

“It’s different for adults.” That’s the best way to put it. She shakes the water away from her hands after closing the faucet before patting them dry on a towel. “What would you do if I said I disliked Yoonoh?”

“Nothing.” She adds. “You said you liked cool boys, and he’s a cool boy.”

He’s an overachieving asshole with a nice smile that could potentially enter her heart if she let him, but that should and would never happen. That’s who he is.

“Erika, I’ll tell your mom to ground you if we keep this conversation up.”

That seems to make her stop, grabbing her phone once again—and she knows the password, which is even worse, kids in this generation are geniuses—, before adding: “Does Peppa have a boy?”

“Oh my God, no!”

This will definitely be a long night.

###

His mind is blank. Absolutely blank. Lingerie for men is even more difficult than lingerie for women.

Jungwoo gives another walk on the stage, bleached blonde hair barely moving with each step he takes. He’s in the simple designs, the first launch of Silhouette, as bland as bland can get, and while his strut is fine, he can’t think of anything. Nothing that couldn’t be just a simple pair of boxer briefs thrown on a model. He could do that, but that’s so common, so plastered on paper. He wants to do something else, and yet, in the day of the photoshoot, he can’t think of anything.

“Why are you making me do this?” He met Jungwoo a few days ago, and he was actually quite surprised to recognize who he is. A runway model that has been around the world and all over fashion weeks. His dulcet personality and tall frame have gotten him somewhere, that’s for sure. “I should be already in my clothes and ready to take pictures.”

“I have nothing.” In the middle of the hotel’s ballroom, Jungwoo stops walking at the sound of Yoonoh’s voice. The designer looks down at his sketchbook, where he had made the drawing of a body similar to Jungwoo’s and still, nothing came to mind.

“…You have to have something.”

“A pair of black boxers.” He turns the sketchbook around just as Jungwoo slips a robe over his body and ties it securely. “Better than white boxer briefs, sexier, too. All the women I’ve been with likes them.”

“I won’t model that.” Jungwoo conquers, a lightweight laugh following after. “Those look like plain cotton boxers.”

“Well, I just don’t know what to design. Either I make you look tacky or I make you look bland. There is no in-between.”

“That bad?” Jungwoo questions, taking a seat next to him before grabbing a water bottle. “People are going to be here any minute. Everyone has decorated and I’m not sure my manager will be happy to hear that I came here just for nothing.”

A look is spared to the model, with Yoonoh shaking his head softly. He has to think of something. He can’t give Siyeon the benefit of seeing him tuck with a simple design.

His pencil taps against the drawing for a few seconds before he breathes out a few words: “You’re okay with being more covered?”

Conservative and elegant is more of what he has been aspiring for, with that peek of skin that makes the world go around. It’s what he has been drawing these days, but mostly with a muse in mind.

“Sure. I wasn’t over the moon thinking my ass was going to be out in the world.”

Yoonoh chuckles at that, turning the page around from the plain black boxers before sketching something else. “How about a crop top? With a fabric similar to a bralette, and you look better in red than you do in black.” He draws a diagonal line across the ribcage, making slitted long sleeves to showcase pieces of biceps, filling it up with the color red in a quick hassled manner that he will fix later. “Maybe some chains and garments around that wrap up to your waist.”

“I like that.” Jungwoo announces when looking over his shoulder.

“I’ll keep the black boxers. I still think they are classics, and I can talk to the management team to make them more than just cotton.” Yoonoh announces, soon after looking at the picture before clicking his tongue. “I think there’s something lacking.”

“Dunno. You’re the designer, but I’d wear this out of the runway.”

That’s something good, but Yoonoh is thinking of something else. People in real life transcending into their own confident version. That’s what he wants to portray. He draws a suit jacket draped over his shoulders, falling onto his long legs until it reaches midway through his calves, before sketching a pair of pants on the side. Loose, simple, highlighted in the waist.

“We could connect do something like…like suspenders. Office guy turns into midnight God.” Once again, he’s sketching. “You’d wear this, the crop top underneath but I have no idea how you’d show the boxers.”

“Make them low cut.” Jungwoo suggests, eyes trained on his phone momentarily when he crosses one leg over the other. “That way, the boxer’s band will be showing, and it will have Silhouette’s name there. I’d take off the jacket to show the statement piece.”

Yoonoh thinks about it, erasing the line at the waist before drawing the band, and his eyes glimmer at the image underneath him. Not as bad as he imagined it.

“Your ideas are good.”

“Thanks, I’m not just a pretty face.” Jungwoo jokes around, only standing up when the doors of the ballroom come open.

The theme of the photoshoot is simple. A party at the eighties, with beaming colors and disco balls. Darkened walls, confetti, everything has been added to highlight the idea Yoonoh had come up with. Nonetheless, his team is not the one barging in the room when the doors open, instead, he’s met with another darkened suit and a serious face that stares down at her agenda.

“Morning, people. I’m sorry I’m late. I was figuring out an issue at the penthouse, but I am here to help you with any form of decoration or with any question you may have.” The hotel manager stands there. Not that Yoonoh ever pondered they could not meet each other when he had specifically picked her hotel—he had walked through when entering the restaurant, and the three-stars help with the price, but the decorations are immaculate. Architecture its utmost beauty.

Now that he sees her, a smile spreads across his features. Maybe, a bit too soon—in a way that has him pushing it down because it is not possible to get that reaction out of him when it’s not faux. That woman had stood him up without even much of a reason, in the literal sense of the word, took those pretty legs away from the seat and walked away after they had been having fun.

He wore those leather pants. She owed him not leaving him in the middle of a restaurant with her meal and his to pay.

When she looks up at him, a few sentiments flash before her eyes, but he can’t guess any of them. He breathes out her name, capturing her off guard when she questions:

“You remember me?” Her voice is levelled as she moves forward, with a tinge of curiousness.

Yoonoh shrugs his shoulders in his fitted black sweater, paired with dark ripped jeans. “I wasn’t shitfaced. Just half-naked.”

That makes her frown deeply when she looks up at him again. “Don’t you dare say that out loud in front of anyone.” Soon after, she’s talking to Jungwoo. “I—Don’t listen to him. I’m the manager of this hotel and I have no business with this man.”

Jungwoo lifts his hands in the air. “None of my business, but please, do let me hear.”

He doesn’t know why it surprises him that Jungwoo likes gossip. “Why? You’re embarrassed of helping me out?”

“You’re saying it with double intentions.”

Yoonoh chuckles. “I wasn’t intending on anything the night we met.”

“Oh, come on.” She rolls her eyes, making him raise his eyebrows. That cynic voice in her is not something he expected. “We both know what kind of intentions you have with everyone. It seeps from you.”

“Seeps from me?”

“You had no issue going with some stranger after being kicked out of your…your hook up’s house and you were smiling and using those eyes on me and buddy,” She stops, a short laugh leaving her lips. Her index finger extends to point at him. “I’m not a charity case. I’m not in need of a man. I don’t need you to come around and cause me trouble, okay? If you’re here just to tease me instead of letting me do my job, then we’re off to a bad start.”

Offended is short for what he feels. Sure, he may not make a big deal out of hook ups, but it’s not like he’s the easiest man in the world. And if he was, why does she care?

“You’re the one talking about my eyes. I never made eyes at you.”

That makes her stop, holding her agenda to her chest before patting her ponytail in place. “Okay. Fine.”

“You just think you’re so much better than you, don’t you?” Yoonoh spites, crossing his arms across his chest, never once raising his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, yes, you take care of your boss’ child. You’re so sweet and kind. So in synch with yourself you need no one’s company…” He trails off, pointing them out with the sharpness of his words. “That’s fine, but it’s not fine when you point fingers at people for being with other people. The twenty-first century is calling, they are here to say you can show someone your ankles without losing all sense of rightfulness.”

Scoffing, she shakes her head, a sarcastic smile appearing on her features. “Yoonoh, I know men like you.” She starts. The typical stance people have of him. Men like him. “You’re a…around with a bunch of women, and you use your good looks to your advantage, never care about anybody but you, never take anyone out on a date—”

He gets closer at that moment, lowering his eyes onto her lips before connecting them with hers. “…You wanted me to take you out on a date and that’s why you’re mad about me being a thot?”

“No!”

His hand reaches for one of her ears, laughing when he feels the heat. “Your ears are hot. Have something to tell me?”

“Where’s the person in charge of this photoshoot?” She slaps his hand away, turning to Jungwoo who has the biggest grin on his features.

“Oh, it’s him. The asshole Jung Yoonoh.” Jungwoo conquers with a flick of his finger before he expands his hands in front of them. “But please do continue. I love a good drama.”

“You?!” She gasps that word out as if it’s venom, a sharp intake coming after.

“Me.” Yoonoh retorts, a smirk appearing on his face. “And I happen to have lots of questions about this ballroom.”

He doesn’t, but he enjoys his next thirty minutes, trying to get the offense out of his body by having her carrying boxes—not heavy, but definitely bothersome when ordered by him—and giving her his phone number wrongly three times as she finished up the contract and the bill for the rent of the ballroom. Exasperation is short for what she feels, but as she’s working on that bill, he realizes something.

The shirt underneath her suit is a sunshine yellow, and he may change violet from the position of his desired color on her, because yellow makes her beam like never before. It gives her a powerful stance, standing out even in between seas of models posing around.

Though what she thinks of him has been a repetition of what he has heard before, somehow, he cares a little bit more when it comes from the one woman that has inspired him to do better with his designs. Not that she even cares about his position as a designer.

For her, he’s only another asshole who uses people to his will, and that’s only half correct.

###

“The sexual tension was so thick I had a hard time breathing. Seriously, it was like when I used to steal rated magazines when I was young!”

The maids cheer and giggle to themselves when Blue spits out another version of the story that she and Yoonoh supposedly wrote yesterday afternoon in the ballroom. She has to play with the lettuce of her sandwich, cheek squished against her palm as she watches Erika stare in between the seas of women, following after every reaction even when she doesn’t understand them.

“Blue, don’t say such words in front of Erika.” She tells them, biting on her densely sauce-coated sandwich, before breathing out softly. How could they think of Yoonoh as a dream when he’s obviously a womanizer dressed in sheep’s clothing?

Or the devil. He’s definitely the devil.

“Whatever.” Blue, in her eighties, moves the skirt of her gray uniform before picking up one of the maids. One of the youngest and the tallest, with a long black fringe and moon-bathed features. Chaewon, she thinks her name is. “He told her: ‘Need help with those boxes’?” She lowers her voice to be a faux deep vibrato. “And she said: ‘No, I can do it myself. Thank you.’” That time around, her voice lifts up.

“I don’t speak like that.”

“And then, he retorted by saying: ‘I know, but my arms are waiting to hold something. I think you’d rather it be boxes.’”

More screeches and giggles follow after that statement, and she rolls her eyes because he did say that.

Chaewon ends up being swooped over, rolled around in Blue’s hold before she’s cooing. “I was expecting him to lower her down and give her that kiss that she was definitely asking for with her gaze,” She imitates the actions by looking down at Chaewon. She’s an actress, even at such an old age. “She kept looking at his lips before she cut him off, and you had to say the way his eyes lingered on her…”

“Where was he looking?” One of the maids asks, organizing the towels in their little eating room when Blue lets of Chaewon to let her sit somewhere else.

“He wasn’t looking.” The manager defends, ears heated up…but because of the golden lights here, definitely.

“Everywhere! There was not a portion of her that he simply did not worship with his gaze alone. He wanted to ravish her like—”

More heat, and maybe, summer is coming around earlier than expected. “Blue, stop reading those romance books with naked men on the cover. They’re getting to you.”

Blue laughs at her antics, her curled gray hair jumping around when she takes a seat in front of her. She continues to bite on her sandwich. “Aw, come on, boss. You can’t expect us not to want to see you with that man.” She covers her mouth to lower her voice before whispering: “He’s sexy.”

“Jung Yoonoh is anything but that!” She defends, leaning back on her seat and trashing the last bit that was left of her sandwich. She opens her water bottle and gulps it quickly.

“Look at that heat!” One of the maids adds, and Chaewon nods in return. “How does he look like, Blue? He sounds like a dream.”

“Pecs over pecs over pecs. He had…” The oldest woman curves her hands in the air and the manager has to scoff.

“Stop thirsting over him.”

“His girlfriend over there will get jealous but you had to see that sweater on him. That man is lean and had the sweetest, prince-like face. But not the kind of prince that wants you for his kingdom, having you wearing proper dresses and greeting the crowd.” She stops for a second, thick silence lingering in the air before she adds. “But the kind of prince that sneaks you into the castle to show you ever room—”

“More sexualization, great.” Her knees buckle when she picks Erika up from her spot in between the maids. “I have a meeting with the valet team. You better stop talking about this if you don’t want me to talk with Sachiko about your disrespect towards our clients.”

She opens the door when Erika wraps her arms around her neck, turning around to wave to the maids. “Bye!”

“Bye-bye, honey!” Blue waves back, returning to the crowd to say: “And his hair—”

She has to close the door with a bang as a huff leaves her lips. Everything has been about Jung Yoonoh these days, but what is the sudden obsession to have her paired up with someone who will definitely shatter her to pieces?

Every thought about him shall be erased as soon as possible now that he has finished with his photoshoot. She won’t hear about Jung Yoonoh ever again.

###

“And then, she went on to call me a man-whore or something. Practically drawing me as the biggest scumbag to ever exist.”

It’s way over nine at night when he finally has the time to check over what the manufacturing team had done with the design that he had sketched for Jungwoo. He still needed to take his pictures for the event, asking the graphic design team to help him out with the deadline, but that’s the least of his worries. Johnny is by his side, lost in his phone as he listened to his story, being his support for another all-nighter.

He unfolds the blood red fabric of the crop top and smiles in delight. Fitted, with slits that could pierce well into the subject of edge, and some chains dangling in elegant curves towards the waist, with Swarovski diamonds in between. He continues to look through the pieces, pants and jacket as well, when he hears Johnny speaking up.

“She’s not wrong.” He says, still engraved on his phone. “You’re a bit of an ass and you haven’t been in a serious relationship ever since I met you. Even before that, you have been single and into hook-ups. Why are you bothered?”

“Because I am not like that. I don’t have the time to embark in a relationship, okay?” Yoonoh mutters out, placing the jacket down on the table to look at it more precisely. “She has this…this air of arrogance of thinking she’s better than me. I don’t know, like…she just thinks I am some kind of douchebag that gets to her nerves—”

“Yet, still you sketch her.” That is the moment he hears the pages of his sketchbook being flickered at. Yoonoh widens his eyes, turning around to close it just as he says:

“Let go of that!”

“They’re pretty. Don’t be a nerd about it.” Once again, Johnny has taken the sketchbook, turning around to keep it away from his hold. “Are you into BDSM or something? People talking down on you? Women hating you so badly that they are kinda into you?”

Hate. That word is enormous, and he wouldn’t like to use it when plotting what she feels for him. Strong dislike, let’s go with that. “I’m not.” He denies all allegations. “…You just have to see her.”

“Ass or tits?”

“Not that.” Yoonoh feels his own cheeks heating up as a smile takes over his features. Not that he had gotten to see a lot with how baggy her suits are, but attractive is short for how he would describe her. “It’s in the way she holds herself. She’s the quiet kind of powerful. With everyone, she is kind and understanding, and yet, her action speak louder than she does. She’s independent and doesn’t let anyone else help her, even if she’s over the top with assignments and—”

“And it kind of sounds like you’re paying a little too much attention to her.” Johnny closes the sketchbook at that moment, quirking an eyebrow at his friend. “What’s with you, Yoonoh?”

The man scoffs, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just saying. I’m so angry that she’s like that, I just—”

“No, you’re not angry. Real angry Yoonoh? It’s the kind of Yoonoh we see with Siyeon. Not this one, talking about how he loves someone’s kindness.” His eyes trail over to his sketchbook, then to the design for Jungwoo before he’s ripping one page out and jotting down a message for the manufacturing team. It’s alright, he just wants a few more diamonds. “Come on, man. Talk about it. Mama Seo used to say there are no secrets in this household.”

“What do you want me to say?” Annoyance seeps from his voice when he looks over his shoulder. “Yes, I was interested. Yes, I guess we kind of flirted. Yes, she still ran away and yes, she absolutely despises my guts?”

“…She blew you off.” Johnny says that as if it’s the biggest announcement in the world.

Yoonoh shrugs. “Yeah, so what? It’s not like I asked her or made it known—”

“For the first time in his life, Jung Yoonoh didn’t get blown, he got blown off!”

“Johnny, it’s not funny—”

“I have to see who this woman is.” Johnny gets his phone out of his pocket, opening his Instagram app before he’s lurking for her. “What’s her name?”

Maybe, curiousness got the best of him when he stands behind Johnny, looking over his shoulder when he rasps out her name.

“There we have her.” His friend announces just as he clicks on the first account. “Private. I can’t really see her face in the profile picture.” It’s the silhouette of a woman, most likely her, in a sunset. Her hands are fisted deep in her pockets and she must be looking at the sun. “Should I message her? Something like: ‘Hi, if you don’t want to date Yoonoh, I’m single and the second-best option’?”

He’s joking around, yet, Yoonoh stares longingly at that picture. Something about her is so lukewarm that he finds himself at peace. He has always liked everything scalding hot—his relationships, his hook-ups, his meals, even the days that he spends at the beach, but now, he is interested in silence and tranquilness. In that lukewarm nature that comes within her, never too cold, never too hot.

“No.” His voice sounds unused when he finally speaks up. “Leave her be.”

Johnny’s eyes inspect his features. “Dude…there is really something about her, isn’t it?”

“I’ll never know, I guess.” Yoonoh finalizes, shrugging his shoulders before moving towards the edge of the room and turning off the lights. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”

###

“I won’t take a bath! I don’t want to!”

Five days from Sachiko’s arrival and she already feels like breaking. Breaking down or breaking out of her home, one or the other. Erika screams at the top of her lungs while rushing out of the bathroom, still very much in her pajamas, to sit down in front of her TV and watch another cartoon.

She throws the towel over her shoulder, eyes half-closing from tiredness when she breathes out softly and approaches her again. “Erika, get in the bath. It’ll be quick.”

The little girl shakes her head, hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Sometimes, I don’t want to either, but you have to.” She announces, taking a seat next to her to run her fingers through her hair. “Come on, Eri, it’s just a bath.”

“Nope.” The little girl mumbles, growing more annoyed by the second.

“You’ll stink. You don’t want anyone to smell your scent if it’s bad.”

“It’s okay.”

“Someone will come visit us.” She doesn’t know why that’s the first excuse she comes up with. Truth be told, none of her friends live in this city, and her family are nowhere near either. Loneliness is something she is used to, and she doesn’t like being the house’s host all that much, either. “And you really like them, so we need to bathe you before they come.”

Erika raises her eyebrows, a big smile appearing on her face: “Peppa?”

“No, not Peppa.” From the back of her mind, she can’t think of anybody who will come here that Erika really likes. She’s not entirely obsessed with Blue, and the woman is too old to take a taxi here. She is not sure who Erika likes apart from her…and Sachiko is not here. “Ah…” Think, think, think. “Yoonoh, my…uh…my boyfriend. He’s coming over.”

The title makes her cringe, but Erika stands up in her couch, hair wild and little fists connecting to her shirt when she says: “He’s coming! You didn’t tell me!”

“Oh, I was just waiting for you to take a bath first.” She tries to sound smart, but this is the worst idea she could have. Sure, she saved his number when she was making that bill for the rented ballroom, but that has been about it. Never texted him, never planned to, much less to tell him to come over and pretend to be her boyfriend just so Erika takes a goddamned shower.

“I will! Hurray!” Erika moves away from the couch, rushing over to take off her clothes.

“I’ll go fill up the bathtub in a sec, okay?”

“Yes!”

This is the worst idea she has ever had.

By the time she hears the door to the guest room closing, she sighs deeply, going over to the kitchen to unplug her phone and look down at her contact list. Her heart is racing, eyebrows frowned in worry when she sees it in glimmering lights:

Jung Yoonoh (Never Respond. Not Even If You’re Dying).

She’s not dying, but she definitely feels like it.

Whenever she got a cut as a kid and she put a band-aid on it, she took the band-aid off in one harsh tug. It’d rip some hairs apart, but it wouldn’t hurt—it wouldn’t make her hesitate as much as she did. This is one of those decisions that need to be done that way; as if she’s drunk and she needs to call her ex, or as if buying that dress that she’ll never wear sounds like a good idea today.

The phone rings a few times and she paces back and forth in the kitchen, giving a few puffs out and jumping in place before she hears it.

“Hello?”

His voice is to die for. One of those melodies that anyone wants to hear when they are waking up, mumbling sweet nothings, promising whatever the hell sounds great at the time, and it’s so dangerous that it has her closing her eyes, trying to fight a shiver and not exactly of anxiousness.

“Yoonoh, I need your help.”

A bead of silence follows soon after, and it comes as a surprise when he mumbles her name. She hums in return. “Why are you calling me? How do you have my phone?”

“Don’t ask.” She tells him, about to start her rant when Yoonoh cuts her off with a deep chuckle.

“You stole it from my bill.”

Caught, yet, she places a hand on her waist. “I wanted to save it just in case you decided to call me and make my day more difficult.”

“Oh, if I called you, it’d be to ease any kind of stress.” He purrs out, making her groan out loud when a lighter laugh from him comes about. “What can I help you with, ice princess?”

“Stop it with the names.”

“Boss?”

“I said—”

“Stop it with the names, I know. I will.”

When there is another pause, she knows she can speak, so she does. “…Erika believes we are in a relationship.” He doesn’t scream at the idea or laugh straight at her face, so she sighs. “And she’s also like madly connected to you. Seriously, she never stops talking about you and how you were so cool and whatnot. She only agreed to bathing now that I told her my…” She clears her throat. Shit, this is awkward. “My boyfriend is coming to visit, but you’re my supposed boyfriend and you’re nowhere around. I was wondering if you could come over, I don’t know, for like thirty minutes and then leave, just to fulfill that promise.”

Another elongated silence comes soon after, but it’s followed by a hum from Yoonoh.

“You didn’t say we were friends,” He teases, and she rolls her eyes at his antics. “You still went on with the boyfriend thing. Something you want to tell me?”

“Erika thinks we are together.”

“Erika meaning you.”

“I would personally sew my lips if we were to be in a relationship, Yoonoh.”

He chuckles, though she hears some moving. “Why? You’d want to make out with me so badly that you would want to stop yourself?”

“You wish.”

“Kinda.” Yoonoh confesses and it sounds like a pin falling to the floor. It makes her anxious, because the idea of being trapped in his arms, mouths molding into each other, breaths mixing, tongue intertwining is not so bad when in theory. “So, where do you live?”

“You’re coming?”

“Yeah, but in like forty-five.”

With that, she gives him the address, only to hear Yoonoh breathing into the microphone.

“So, my dear girlfriend, my beloved future wife,” Those dramatics that come with him make her want to slice him in half, but she keeps on just for Erika. “…How long have we been together, exactly?”

“…Since my headaches started coming daily.” She responds, hearing pattering in the hallway. “Call me when you’re here, okay?”

Once she hangs up, she sees Erika ready for a bath by the kitchen’s door, waving her hands in the air.

“Let’s go!”

Kids are nightmares.

###

Epoch hats don’t fit him well, Yoonoh realizes as he sits on a little stool that barely can hold his weight, knees practically touching his chest as he plays tea-house with Erika and her babysitter. Or well, her mom’s worker that happens not to know how to say no.

Erika had gone over the top to make this a grand event, the Peppa Pig plushie he had brought with him when entering the apartment seated in front of Erika, while he stares ahead at the woman that has his mind a complete mess. She is wearing a pair of wings on her shoulders, and her clothing is different, still not letting him see much, but the baggy t-shirt and sweatpants still fit her nicely.

The roles are simple. Erika is the princess, and they are their Aunt and Uncle. Peppa Pig is her sister, and that’s about as much as he knows as he sips on the two-point-five milliliters of water with lemon that Erika dares call tea.

“More tea, please.” Yoonoh says when placing the small cup down and looking at the woman ahead of him. She is the one serving the tea, yet, she quirks an eyebrow at him.

“That’s your fourth cup.” She explains, shaking her head when he tries to reach for the tea. “You’ve already had enough. You’re doing it just to see me serving you.”

“While the sight is adorable, beautiful, this cup is the size of my pinky. I can’t even feel it going down my throat.” He waves the little cup in his pinky before trying to reach for the tea again. “I’ll serve myself if it makes you feel better.”

“You’re too sweet-mouthed…” She looks over at Erika, inspecting them with interest. “Sugarplum.”

“Sugarplum?” Yoonoh questions the nickname, pouring himself a cup of tea when snatching it from her hands before leaning his weight forward, taking a sip that has him downing the entire drink. “I’m not sweet, don’t know if you’re noticed.”

“Quite clearly.”

“May change my ways for you if you stop judging me.” His eyes trail over her features, the culprit of his playfulness spreading across his face.

“Oh, I happen to be very judgmental.”

“Get to know me,” He waves his finger on top of the cup, tracing the outline only to see her gulp soon after. “…I promise the last thing you’ll end up doing is hating me.”

Erika stands up in between the two, her little hands spreading on their chests when she says: “Princes and princesses don’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting, Eri.” She tells her, though she sends a glare his way. “Right, sugarplum?”

“Of course, beautiful.” He uses that same nickname, relishing on the way she seems to be seething at the name. Truth be told, he knows that she’s, at least, a bit attracted to him…but whatever is stopping her must be strong enough to have her stopping on her tracks that first night. His lips wrap up in a kiss he sends flying in the air before adding: “We actually love each other. My kingdom is now better because I have found my truest love.”

“Yeah…” She trails, looking over to the side before she takes a sip of her own tea. “How’s the collection going?”

That question surprises him. She must have supposed he was a designer, much more after all he did in her hotel, but he didn’t think she was paying attention from up close.

“It’s not a collection.” Sweetly, he corrects, voice lowered when he puts the cup down. “I—I’m only working on this one fit. An outfit. We design lingerie, as you could see. I’m normally in the women design department, but my boss which is an absolute…” He stops, looking at Erika. “Witch, changed me to the men’s department just to freak up my head.”

A small chuckle trips out of her lips at the choices of his cusses. “So, you were designing Jungwoo’s fit?”

“Precisely.” Yoonoh takes his phone out of his pocket before displaying something only for her to see. “Erika, you can’t see this. It’s…it’s not something you should be seeing, okay?”

And actually, she listens. Yoonoh can’t understand why she says that Erika never listens to anybody. Her eyes trail over to Jungwoo, and the way they scan up and down have something within him tugging his phone away.

“That’s my design.”

“You’re talented.” Those words shouldn’t weight as much as they do, but he hasn’t heard them in a while. Perhaps, in two years. “If only you weren’t so much of a butt-face whenever we speak, I’m sure that part of you would show through.”

“What part of me?”

“The part that doesn’t try to hide that you care.”

That’s the moment Yoonoh backs away, because he shouldn’t care. It’s easier to go through life without caring about the people around you. The small stool falls behind him just as he stands up, clearing his throat after a harsh swallow.

“I have to go.”

Erika stands up as well, eyes widened. “Is it because she called you butt-face?”

Yoonoh chuckles, ruffling her hair with one hand. “No, I—I think I left my stove on at home.”

He hears the sound of her picking up her keys, nodding in the process. “I’ll walk you there. Don’t worry. Erika, stay here.”

The hallway that leads to her door is far too cramped for the two of them, his shoulders brushing with hers as they walk alongside each other. The part of you that doesn’t try to hide that you care; it’s not like he cares about her past the normalcy of two people who happen to be attracted towards each other buy deny it—

He turns around, his chest expanding with each breath that she takes, oxygens mingling when he looks down at her features, those lips that he would have kissed if granted the permission, but instead he asks:

“Is that why you hate me?”

She doesn’t listen, a deer caught in the headlights when she questions: “What?”

“Because you think I don’t care. Is that why you hate me?” He questions, only to have her shaking her head. His fingers hook a strand of her hair behind her ear, feeling the heat of her skin, much like that one time he had touched it.

“I don’t hate you.” She confesses, honest and yet surprising, before she breathes out in a shudder. “…Sometimes, it’s better to not wonder, Yoonoh. Not be curious about people like you. Not because you’re bad, but because you’re not right, either.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Stop looking at my lips, it distracts me.”

Yoonoh trails his eyes up before engulfing the words in his plush lips. “And what about you?” He questions. “If I’m all types of wrong, what are you?”

“All the different types of wrong that aren’t yours.” She says, just as his chest brushes with her own again, her stomach extending, back bending, body molding closer to his just because of electricity and gravity, she opens the door, releasing a breath that feels like a million pounds of weight. “Good night, Yoonoh, and thank you.”

He nods, and while he wants to return the words, he can’t.

###

Four Years Ago.

She never came back.

Sometimes, Yoonoh felt stupid for believing that there was someone in the other side of the computer. That said chatroom that had once started as complete curiousness had now turned into something else, tangible, present in his every day. He was young, his eyes wandered, his mind stopped thinking about the importance of his future and he thought that Dami was it. The woman of his dreams, the picture that he couldn’t take out of his head when he laid still at night and looked at his ceiling.

His friends made fun of him, because this is not the Jung Yoonoh that had gotten secret notes during Valentine’s Day in high school with love confessions and promises of marriage. This was a young man, seated in front of a computer, waiting for an answer. Waiting for the day she returned, after she said that she’d come back. It was only supposed to be a lunch break, but with no contact other than this chatroom, than what they had in social media, how was he supposed to get in touch with her?

JJH1997: Hey, did I do something wrong? (Three weeks ago.)

JJH1997: Hello! How are you doing? Are you okay? (Three weeks ago.)

JJH1997: I bought that one record you told me about. (One day and a half ago.)

JJH1997: [Picture Attached]. (One day and a half ago.)

JJH1997: Are you mad? (Thirteen hours ago.)

JJH1997: I’m sorry if I offended you. (One hour ago.)

The reply he got soon after, as he was studying for one of his finals, had him widening his eyes. She had not answered in weeks, this was the best news he could hear—

DAMISONG96: This is her husband. Who are you? (Just Now).

His hands shook, trying to find the words to say. Husband. All this time, he had been talking about a future with someone with a husband…

DAMISONG96: I’ve just read your messages. Stop talking to my wife, you fucking kid.

[This contact has blocked you].

The worst part was that he could never know if it was a catfish, if the person he talked about was real…or, actually, that he could never apologize, perhaps for ruining a marriage that he never knew of.

Love doesn’t come easy when you don’t know how to trust.

###

The reason why he became a lingerie designer instead of any other kind of designer is because of the subtlety. His friends think that it is because of the obvious love Yoonoh has for the human body, but as he sits on the front row of his own show, staring at the Silhouette designs his team had worked on, with harsh white lights matching the upbeat and bass-boosted songs that have models swinging their hips from side to side, he feels proud and more.

Jungwoo is the next one to come, and all signs of his beam is long forgotten as he struts down that runway. At first, he does it simply, how he’s taught, the buttons of his jacket are done, undoing them as he walks to showcase the crop top underneath, only pulling it down and turning around to throw the jacket aside and show the top and the chains, along with Silhouette’s name on the band of his boxers. It’s perhaps something not seen in the streets, but he can imagine celebrities falling in love with the design.

He’s concentrated on the faces of the people ahead of him, cheers resounding around the air as Jungwoo finishes off his catwalk. The invitees seem to be overjoyed, and just when a smile creeps up his features, fixing his stance in his tailored black suit, he feels a hand spreading on his thigh, a chuckle being breath out in his ear.

“You’ve done a great job, Yoonoh.” Siyeon speaks with certainty, and to anyone, they are just two friends congratulating each other. He does great work in feigning a smile when turning to her, but what he says is not so kind.

“Thank you. I’m known for that.”

“I know…if we don’t compare that to your organization problems and your endless witty mouth.” Siyeon starts clapping when another model comes around before a beam appears on her features.

Something doesn’t feel right.

“…And what about it?”

Siyeon’s long silver earrings move when she turns to him, quirking an eyebrow in the process. “Well, you see, Yoonoh, the reason why I wanted you to craft a showstopper and to leave with a bang is because…” The acids in his stomach go up, nervousness creeping up on him, trying to keep the dimples there to no avail. “You’re no longer going to be part of our team. Out of all the designs you’ve done, this is your best, but you proved yourself right a little too late. Sorry.”

She’s not sorry, and he knows this. The smile that he has fought so hard to keep there is no longer of his interest as he stands up, pointing at her while scowling.

“You can’t do that.”

“Yoonoh, you’re making a scene.” She tries to chuckle through her words.

“I’ve been working for this fucking company for two years and I haven’t slacked once.”

“Says you,” Siyeon shrugs. “I’m in charge, Yoonoh, and I saw you’re slacking.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have heard that before.”

The air around him engulfs him in a way that almost makes him feel like he’s trapped. He’s out of the expensive hotel Siyeon had found in seconds, but yet, he feels like he has run a marathon. His eyes concentrate anywhere, hand coming up to his chest, his dream shattered when trying to give this company another chance—

The night whisks him in the face as he runs, not caring to grab a taxi, not minding that he feels like his life is falling down…because this is stupid. Life is so fucking ironic that he hates it. He trusts people? He ends up losing. He doesn’t trust them? They never believe him.

What’s the realest way to get a happy ending? He’ll never know.

###

Eight hours of sleep feel marvelous once she gets them back.

Not only has she gotten to return her calls, but it doesn’t smell like baby food in her apartment and she gets to take a break from Peppa Pig. Erika had been sad when letting go of her, pressing her face to her stomach in a hug before she was off to holding onto her mother for dear life. Her paycheck came around, life was good, and this night was excellent with the bag of savory chips she had just opened.

The crunch is the only thing that can be heard, mingling with the noise of the romantic movie she is watching, tears wielding her vision and yet, she pushes them away. Tragedies are the best form of romance—when both characters have gone through so much that finding happiness in each other feels a thousand times more personal. Perfect, even. It’s a nice chance for her romantic comedy binge from earlier.

The air is interrupted when she hears someone ringing her doorbell, and that brings a frown to her features. First, she’s not waiting for anybody. Secondly, she had been crying just now. Grabbing a napkin, she taps it against her ears and waltzes over to the door to see who is standing by the door through the peephole.

And if there was a sight that could capture her breath away just as much as it could make her be excited about something, it’s this.

Yoonoh stands outside her door, with the buttons of his shirt half-opened, a peak of his shirt showing, his jacket thrown haphazardly over one forearm, and if only this peephole let her see lower, she would relish on the strength of his thighs. Confusing or not, as well as a bit annoying, one can’t deny that Yoonoh is extremely handsome. Taken out of a magazine, even.

She opens the door softly, unaware of why he is there. Today, the runway for Silhouette should be happening and yet, he’s here, at 10:45 at night, with his hair made a mess and his eyes trailing on her.

“Yoonoh,” He doesn’t stop looking at her eyes, a frown in his features. “Hi…uh…may I help you with something?”

“You’re right.” He starts, entering her house just as she moves to the side. He must be in a rush. The door closes behind her. “I try not to care about things. I don’t take relationships seriously. I’m an asshole at most times. I’m fake and boring and quite clearly, all kinds of wrong.” Well, that is a statement. She knows there is some good for Yoonoh. He’s always one call away, he’s organized, he’s given. He’s strong and rampant and fiery, in that way that have people shuddering in their spots.

“So?”

“So, yes, I’m fucking tired of being that because it doesn’t work.” He stands in front of her now, in that same hallway that had trapped them weeks ago and had managed to make her even more confused. “I just lost my job and I don’t know what the hell I am going to do with my life. I was used and—fuck!”

Her heart weights down when he admits that. “Why would you lose your job? That outfit you designed for Jungwoo is amazing…”

“Because my new boss hates me, just like you do.”

“I said I didn’t hate you.”

“Then why?” Yoonoh questions. “Why did you run away that night? What about me is so repulsive that you can’t even look my way without frowning when all I have been thinking about since that moment I saw you in the restaurant, in nice light, after getting me some clothes, is that you’re the kindest and most humble woman I have ever met and I would do my fucking best to kiss away every fucking insecurity you have about me?”

Silence comes to be awkward around them. Or, well, filled with tension. But this silence is of understanding. Yoonoh’s eyes that night, that had scanned her with such intricacy, had thought about the same things that she did. And yet, she had let it slide—because it’s easier to fear than to try, to run away than to stay.

“Because…you’re difficult, Yoonoh.” She states. “And I don’t mean it in a bad way. I just know…I know I would like you.” That makes her ego blot down the slightest. “And then, when you realize that kissing me is not enough, that waking up to me is not enough, that I won’t give you whatever interesting shit you were doing when I found you outside that house, you’ll leave…and I’m not at an age or time in my life where I want to see you leave without an explanation. I don’t.”

He finally reconnects his gaze with her eyes. “The explanation here is simple,” He conquers. “You’re beautiful. Each part of you I get to see and each part I don’t. Every bit of my imagination can only think about you, so much that everything I design is everything my mind gushes about and can only perceive on you. It’s stupid enough that…” He chuckles at his own antics, leaning his head back on the wall. “That I think about what color fits you best and I am certain it’s not the navy blue you like to use. It’s yellow, because you’re so bright it practically burns my fucking eyes. You’re so smart and given and you don’t even let me tell you that, because you’re always…pushing me away.”

“Yoonoh—” Her heart flutters at his words, but he doesn’t stop talking.

“And you’re your own kind of goddess and it drives me insane, because I was the type of dumbass that didn’t like the chase, but each and every time I hear you speak, I just want to tease you more and…” He stops for a second, finally fixing his position to look at her. “I just wanted you to know, because if I’ll never get a chance, at least I want to say I—”

Silences are what made them. It’s what she likes the most about him, when he’s silent and concentrated, when all his might goes to one thing and one thing only. She doesn’t know what overtakes her at that moment, when her lips clash against his in a dance that it’s much too passionate. She can’t keep up with whatever she wants to do, her hands hooked around his waist to mold him against the wall, his abdomen carved against hers when a groan traps itself on the back of his throat and he grabs the back of her head, taking more of her in, granting himself entrance, rubbing his lips in a tempting touch before he’s diving in for air…and she’s his oxygen.

Yoonoh’s hold is not strong, overly passionate, tumbling. In his own way, Yoonoh is delicate. It’s just when she kisses him that she realizes there is a beautiful thing to Jung Yoonoh. The delicacy he portrays in lingerie, that translate into his utter fears. The pristine glass he is when she caresses his neck with a touch of her mouth and he shudders while grasping the back of her shirt, asking to see her—to be seen.

When heartbreak happens, there is always a dot. That one finalization of a chapter in your heart that aches insufferably. Her dots connected to him, in one way or another, in the moles in his face or the way he begs to connect to her lips again when she pulls away. He’s gravity when she asks to be taken to her room in one simplistic glance and he’s smiling by the time he puts her down on the sheets.

Over all, Yoonoh is a lover of beauty, and maybe, for once in her life, she feels like art, just when he throws her shirt over her head, staring down at small portions of her body being shown before showing that dimple that she had trained herself to hate.

But who is she kidding? She didn’t hate it at all.

“…You were forbidding me of this.” He points at her body, earning laughter from her, ears heated up under his gaze. “And for that, I’ll never forgive you.”

That night, it’s not a promise of love—it’s lust mixed with something else, that fluttering feeling of having a crush, maybe, or the start of something…how he calls it…beautiful.

###

Normally, Yoonoh doesn’t text. He hooks up with someone, leaves it in the air, then moves on to working. Awakening in his lover’s bed, having breakfast with her, arguing in that way that only they know how to do—playfully, of course—and then having to see him himself off just so she can go to work, however, is completely different.

Just as he lays on his bed midway through the day, he looks at her contact. Missing her would be a statement, and it would be absolutely correct. His gut twists, not knowing exactly what to say—new and yet old in this dating thing.

Uh, can he call it that? They haven’t even gotten out on a date.

Yoonoh: We haven’t gotten out on a date.

Yoonoh: Do you want to?

She must be near the phone, because she replies quickly.

Beautiful: If I slept with you, I obviously want to go on a date with you.

Beautiful: Duh.

There is the bite that he likes, enough to bring a smile to his face before he’s biting down on his lip.

Yoonoh: You didn’t sleep with me when I was employed, wearing suits, confident and flirty. Your standards? Very low.

Beautiful: You’re complaining? Because I could not do it again.

Yoonoh: Who said I was complaining? I was trying the whole time and just when I’m a huge loser, I get the girl.

His life seems to be twisted in circles, cycles that he don’t know how to stop, but a text from her gives him hope that he’ll figure it out.

Beautiful: You’re not a loser. I don’t date losers.

Beautiful: Dinner tonight? I brought a sandwich, but that’s bland.

Yoonoh: It’s a date.

A few seconds pass by before he’s typing again.

Yoonoh: Wait, how do you have me saved in your phone?

A screenshot comes soon after, and he doubles over in laughter when he sees ‘Sugarplum (DNI)’.

###

She has forgotten how to say it, and it’s not like it’s another language, but nervousness clads her every pore just as she sits down by a table at Erika’s seventh birthday party.

Five months into this dating thing, and she doesn’t understand most of it. What she knows is that it feels great. Waking up next to Yoonoh—her place or his—, being kissed on the cheeks, on her forehead, only to be ravished by one of those kisses that he only knows how to give. To watch him grow away from his fears and create his own lingerie line, obviously with the support of his model friends that were eager to take pictures with his pieces and make do with what they have.

It’s difficult, but just as Yoonoh lowers Erika after hoisting her up in the air, always charming with her and with anyone, she doesn’t know how to say it. You know, those three words that have captured her ever since Yoonoh smiled at all her baby pictures, or when he spends some extra time in the kitchen making her favorite meal just because he feels like pampering her.

Three words that she has said before, even jokingly, and yet, she’s petrified.

The trees are tall in the backyard of Sachiko’s home, yellows and reds contrasting the feeling in her heart. It’s pure pink, just like the glow on Yoonoh’s cheeks or that set he had once sewed himself just for her, the one that he never gets enough of and still groans at. Childish music and cake should be enough to calm her down, but just as Yoonoh plops himself alongside her, resting his head on his forearm on the picnic table she’s by, all words she had practiced are lost.

How does he have that effect after five months?

“Erika loved the gift.” Even their gifts had been united. From Uncle Prince and Aunt Princess, they had written on the note. A doll that she had been screaming about months ago when they had visited her.

That word, even he is saying it. If Jung Yoonoh is capable of spitting it out, why couldn’t she—?

“You look like you’re sick.”

That makes her sigh. “Thanks. I don’t see you complaining.”

Yoonoh’s smile grows wider at that, rolling a piece of her hair in between his index finger. “I like the sick look.” He replies. “Something about the sight of a girl who wants to throw up on me. So sexy I could take you to a bathroom right now and just—”

“Yoonoh!”

“There it is, not so sick anymore. Now you’re angry.” He has his ways, she has to admit, and even when finds herself laughing when he changes that glimmer of his eyes that always gets him what he wants. “What’s with you?”

She opens her mouth, placing a piece of cake inside of it—just a little bit too big—when she says: “I love you.”

Or whatever can be understood in between a mouthful of cake.

Yoonoh quirks a perfectly styled brow. “You what?”

“I love you.” She utters out, swallowing soon after before giving him a smile. “Okay, alright, I’m done here—”

His hands gravitate to her hips before she could stand up, sitting her down on his thigh and bringing her face to his by her chin before asking, much too close and too softly for her to ever resist him. “You what?” He repeats, much more delicately, and finally, she finds the reason to stop being nervous.

Those brown eyes look from her eyes to her lips, never getting enough of her, never knowing how to battle the thoughts that show on his features. That kind of adoration she has never gotten before, and that is worth trying for.

She hides her face in his neck, breathing in his scent before spitting out: “I love you.”

It brushes against his skin, tickles him in a way that has him tightening his hold before he replies: “Sounds so good when someone means it.” And that confession is only meant for her to be understood, before he’s pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you, too.”

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct #kpop scenarios #writing #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #jaehyun au #nct fluff #nct angst #nct au

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jaeminscoffee · 3 years

Text

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right?

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place.

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad)

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense.

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend.

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people.

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny.

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you.

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks.

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look.

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it"

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n."

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing.

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine."

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda.

Ironic, huh?

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night.

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location.

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze.

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder.

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming.

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning.

"Answer me."

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement.

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?"

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place.

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot.

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study.

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling.

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command.

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck.

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands.

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features.

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking.

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?"

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions.

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you.

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear.

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?"

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in.

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck."

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?"

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed.

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?"

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum.

"Say it, Y/n."

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad.

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds.

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers.

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers.

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?"

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach.

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe.

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully.

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.."

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration,

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night.

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity.

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly.

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!"

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock"

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad.

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel"

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace,

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm.

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast.

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you.

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper.

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name.

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure.

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls,

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for.

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed.

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him.

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side,

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad,

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???"

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

933 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Craving

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?

It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.

Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that)

Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.

Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.

So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m trying to do my laundry.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”

“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!”

Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.

So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?

The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.

He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate.

“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”

And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”

Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”

And you smack him in the head with your book.

Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.

So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.

“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”

“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”

“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”

You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.

Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?”

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.

“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.

Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.

“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”

“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?

Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.

“Babe.”

You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”

“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.

Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.

“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”

“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”

“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”

“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”

“What, ethereal?”

“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”

He gasps and he’s not even breathing.

And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.

Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”

“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”

“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”

“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”

“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”

“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”

“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”

“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”

“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”

“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”

“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”

He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”

“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”

He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”

You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.

You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.

“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”

He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”

You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”

“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”

“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.

He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”

He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.

“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”

Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.

“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps.

You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.

He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”

His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”

“Of course not—”

“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.

You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.

Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.

But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did.

Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.

So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

Donghyuck blinked. “What?”

“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”

That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”

But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t hurt me—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”

It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.

So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.

He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”

“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”

He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes.

“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”

Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”

You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”

“You went into my closet?”

“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”

“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”

“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”

Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”

“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”

He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”

“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air.

He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.

He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks.

The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.

“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“I—I wasn’t staring.”

“Never said you were.”

It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”

He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.

“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”

You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”

“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”

“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”

You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”

“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”

You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”

“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t waste a second longer.

His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.

The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?

You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.

Yes. Yes, he could.

But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”

“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”

You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”

“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”

“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”

“Why you little—”

Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.

“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous.”

“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”

“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”

He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”

“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”

“Girls?”

“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”

He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“I heard that.”

“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.

Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.

Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.

“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”

You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.

“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”

“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.

“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”

You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel.

“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.

Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.

Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”

You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.

Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”

“What?”

“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”

Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”

“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”

He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”

“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”

“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”

“Oh my God—”

“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”

You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.

“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”

He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”

“Shut up.”

No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.”

You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.

“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss.

Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”

“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”

He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”

You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.

You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”

He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.

You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.

You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene.

Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.

As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.

You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.

Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”

The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.

“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”

You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.

“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”

“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”

He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.

As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”

You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”

The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand.

He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.

“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”

He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm.

The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"

His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."

You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”

And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.

You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"

He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream.

With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shook your head.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”

“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.

“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.

“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”

His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re gross.”

“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Well, I’m going to love you.”

But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”

“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”

“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”

He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”

With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”

“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”

“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”

You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”

“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”

You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”

“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”

You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”

“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”

“Do you want to be punched again?”

“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”

The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.

You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”

You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.

Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”

You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”

He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”

You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”

He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”

You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”

“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”

You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”

Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”

“Yeah.”

“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”

You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.

***

“Babe, you ready?”

You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.

So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones.

“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”

He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”

“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”

“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”

“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”

He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”

You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

You can’t wait until your date is over.

***

Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.

You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”

“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”

You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”

“You sure?”

You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.

Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.

When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.

It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”

“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.”

Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”

“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”

“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”

“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”

Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”

“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”

“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”

He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”

“Can’t I just linger around here?”

“To see me or to see him?”

“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”

He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”

“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”

You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more.

“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”

You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.

“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.

After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away. He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated.

A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck, how is he so hot?

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”

“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”

Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”

Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”

“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”

You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”

He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”

But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”

He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied.

Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”

A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”

“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”

“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”

“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”

“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”

You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”

“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips. The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”

His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”

“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”

You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.

Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.

“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”

Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.

And moves his fingers again.

Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.

He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.

“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling. They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”

“What to do? My purse is inside.”

“Shall we ask around for the key?”

You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”

Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”

Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.

You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.

“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.

When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.

“My turn now.”

***

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refriedweeb · 4 years

Text

PUT YOUR LIPS ON MY SKIN ( HAWKS + READER 18+)

A/N: heyyoo! refriedweeb here again with another request from @alexandria-selina and has elements of jealous hawks with his wings (from that tiktok head canon of them puffing out you know what I mean) and this post from @keiqos !

Prompt: “A jealous Hawks where his s/o gets hit on by another pro and she's blushing. She's just being shy but Hawks takes it as she likes it. Instead of getting into a fight with the pro, he shows his s/o why she shouldn't look at anyone else.”

Tags/Warnings: smut, overstimulation, jealousy, mirror fucking, spit, a lil bit of blood, rutting, feral, aftercare, kink, jealous, dirty talk.

Word count: 5,080

Keigo Takami hated hero events. He hated having to wear the Hawks persona day in and day out, especially when it came to being surrounded by his fellow pro heroes. Now, don’t get the guy wrong, he did enjoy what he did for a career despite any behaviors he had to unlearn from the hero commission themselves. He wanted to save people, he wanted to make the world a better and safer place. He just hated all the bullshit politics that came with it. They were heroes, hell. It wasn’t about making best friends and going to fancy events when there was always going to people out there that needed them while they clinked glasses of overpriced champagne.

Though, one thing Keigo didn’t think he minded that much was seeing you dolled up in a dress that led his mind to sinful, dark places. You and Keigo had only recently started dating, after months of him slowly starting to open up to you about the shit that he’d gone through, how he’d really felt about the commission once he’d gotten the sense that he could trust you. It’d been a struggle to call yourselves an item, but now that you could, Keigo felt what he could only assume was peace inside of a darkened and traumatized heart. There was also another emotion that was stirring in him that had nothing to do with peace, and all of those awful things that he wanted to do to your body. None that he would apologize for, of course.

It wasn’t his fault that the commission had decided to host a little event when he was in the peak of his rut season.

And oh, was Keigo in trouble. You’d recently started wearing a new perfume that had driven him up a wall the moment he’d caught the scent on you at the beginning of his mating season. It wasn’t sickly sweet, but sweet enough, and mixed perfectly with your natural pheromones to create a musk that drove his cock to twitch every time you shook some hair over your shoulder, stretched, fucking just breathed. He’d been unable to keep his hands off you for the majority of the weeks that had past, except as of late. You’d told him to keep his filthy paws to himself leading up to the event, not wanting to be bruised or love bit to all hell because Keigo couldn’t control himself. The way that he saw it, the dress you’d picked for the night was to torment him on purpose. Deep red velvet that matched his wings, settling over the curve of your hips, the flow of your waist.

You’d made him promise to be on his best behavior for the night, not wanting any trouble or any media to get wildly stories about what your relationship was really about. But damn, if the moment you were alone with him, he was going to tear that dress to shreds with what little talons he had in place of regular nails. You, on the other hand, your body had been spent. Keigo was insatiable on a good day, but ever since the rut season had started, it’d been exceptionally so. Not that you could complain, your body was sore in a much different, more appreciative way than you felt with sparring.

And yes, you had chosen the red velvet dress on purpose. It was your goal of the night to drive Keigo as out of his mind as possible. You couldn’t read him quite as well yet, your relationship still relatively new, and Keigo working through an entire lifetime of walls to protect his emotional security from the hero commission. His expression was a blank one, but when you locked eyes with him, Keigo gave you the smallest eyebrow raise as he looked you up and down. A silent stamp approval that had heat blossoming up your neck. He wanted to make that perfume you were wearing mixed with his own, he wanted to make sure that anyone who got a whiff of your scent knew who you belonged to. He wasn’t a fan of sharing by any means.

The night carried on, speeches given by the leaders of the commission (which you’d always found yourself by Keigo’s side much to his comfort), Endeavor’s speech, All Night’s retirement speech, and so on and so on. There’s been a light array of snacks while the pros mingled, finding yourself talking to Shinya Kamihara, otherwise known to the world as Edgeshot. It wasn’t very often you got to mingle with the top ten pros, your rank in the high teens, so you found yourself shy. Not quite sure how to handle yourself around such class, experiences, and amazing heroes. You were sure the blush on your cheeks, your neck, was visible from outer space. Shinya was a gentleman, he complimented you on your quirk, your work, and the little bit of history you’d talked to him about on why you had made your choice to become a hero. From your point of view, it was a harmless conversation that was borderline on friendly as you got to know the fellow hero, but from a certain outside perspective it was something a little more.

Keigo wasn’t paying attention to any of the conversation going on around him, his eyes were focused on you. The way you tipped your head back as you laughed, sending another ripple effect of your smell through the air. Was that bastard Edgeshot trying to move in on you? Did he really think he had a chance? He swallowed the jealousy in his throat, though his avian side had a mind of its own on this. His wings, proud and defensive, puffed out. This caused a stir of the other heroes around him, asking if there was something they missed that he’d alerted to. Keigo laughed, the same charismatic Hawks as always, saying they just needed a stretch. He crossed his arms, fidgeting with one of his cuff links. Keigo, jealous? Haha. HAHAHAHA...ha? His eyes were narrowed into slits as he watched you pat Edgeshot on the shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek before the other hero moved away.

His instinct was to claim you right then and there. To rub his scent all over you and yours on his so that no one else would mistake you as open. But...that’d certainly cause a scene and that was something he promised he wouldn’t do that night. So, Keigo bit back on his instinct, unclenched his jaw, and behaved for the rest of the night. Anything that came after that was entirely out of his control. You’d floated around to him throughout the night, not doing much outside of brushing hands together, a chaste smile shared between you. This was your first real hero event ever since you broke into the teens of your career, and it was one you wanted to soak in. Keigo knew this, and didn’t want to spoil it for you despite his own feelings on the event.

Keigo’s mood, his want, took a turn for the worse when it came to someone actually flirting with you. You, not experienced enough with the personalities of some of these heroes to realize what was happening. It wasn’t Edgeshot this time, no. Now...it was Ryo Inui, better known as Hound Dog. And he was like Keigo in a way that he wanted to mark whatever it was that he wanted. Ryo put his hand on the small of your back, where Keigo’s hand was supposed to go. He laughed when you laughed, leaning in close to you as like there was some desperate secret he needed to share with your ears only. Ryo was flirting with his girlfriend and was being so bold about it. No, nope. That would not do for him. His wings fanned out again, this time catching the attention of several people around him, you and Ryo included. Your mouth dropped open in awe at the sight, though when you caught Keigo’s eyes to see his pupils narrowed into slits, something like a firework set off in your belly.

That fucking mutt dared to spoil that perfume that sent him into a frenzy with his dog-like scent? That wasn’t something that Keigo could stand for in the slightest. That scent was you. It was the scent he had been planning on burying his own in.

The two of you left the event shortly after.

On the ride back to Keigo’s place, the car was silent. Not a word was spoken between the two of you, though it was full of tension in a way where if you breathed, you felt that you could choke on it. He drove fast, shifting gear after gear with aggression that made you wish it was your neck he gripped so hard. As you sat in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together to feel some of that much desired tension between your legs. This didn’t go unnoticed by Keigo, and he hissed.

Still, the two of you didn’t exchange words until you were behind the privacy of his front door. And even then, you spoke first. “Everything okay, Keigo?”

His pupils were still zeroed in on you, as he stalked towards you, every bit the predator bird that he was. And fuck, if it didn’t make you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You walked backwards, careful not to trip over the towering heels you were in. His body was hot, flush against yours though he refused to touch you. Keigo wanted to take his time with this, with devouring you. You’d rubbed it in his face how much the rest of the heroes wanted you, being the little flirt that you were. There was no need for him to rush into anything, the way Keigo saw it. “Oh, everything’s fine.” He commented, tone dark. “I could handle that nimrod Edgeshot eyeing you up like some desert, sure. I behaved,” Keigo tipped his head to the side as he shrugged. He’d managed to walk you back into the bedroom you’d been sharing recently.

“What are you talking about? Edgeshot was just being friendly!”

Keigo’s chuckle was cynical, but it turned the silk of your bundle into a pearl with how quickly it excited you. “He wanted to tear this dress of you just as much as I do.” How he was. “But then you had to go and be a little tease, didn’t you?” Keigo was watching you like a hawk would watch a mouse just before it clutched it in its’ talons. “Had to let Ryo rub himself on you like the mutt he is. In the middle of my rutting season.” Your back bumped up against the floor length mirror behind you as Keigo gripped your jaw, the sharp curve of what would have been talons biting into the skin there. “All I can smell on you is him.”

He clucked his tongue. Sharp, narrowed eyes lowered over your skin and back up. You were breathless and Keigo hadn’t even touched you yet. “That just won’t do, now will it, (Y/N)?”

“K-Keigo, I don’t know what you’re-”

A soft cry of pain rose from the back of your throat as his version of talons sank into your skin, enough to draw a little bit of blood. This was Keigo in his rutting form times a million, a possessive version of him you’d never seen before. Part of you was scared, but the larger part of you was excited. He wanted to claim you. He wanted to make you more than just his.

“I asked if that would do, (Y/N)?”

Unable to speak with how tightly Keigo gripped your jaw, you simply shook your head from side to side. No, it wouldn’t do. That crooked smirk brushed over Keigo’s lips, and you wanted to taste him so bad. Taste the anger on his tongue, feel the fury in the rows of his teeth. Keigo was pissed, more than anything, that someone had tried to erase his claim on you. So, the only way to make sure that never happened again was to mold the scent of you with his. “That’s a good little slut.” Keigo released his hand from your jaw, the faint tickle of blood that ran down your jaw sending a shiver down your spine.

Keigo turned surprisingly gentle as he turned you around, as he pressed your hands up against the curve of the mirror that you were facing. “I’m going to make you watch me claim you. Fuck you and fill you until there’s no fucking mistaking who you belong to.” His hands dug into the back of your skin, and you winced. “You keep these hands right here, and if you don’t, there’ll be problems. Do you understand, little bird?”

“Yes, Keigo.”

His devilishly wicked smile returned. And so did the greed in his hands. Keigo took his time groping you, the swell of your breasts full in his hands. The winding curves of your waist and hips. Down the silken road of the dress that he swore he’d destroy. He wasn’t soft, gentle. Keigo was at his brink already, but he wanted to take his time with torturing you for being such a teasing little whore. His hands gripped the sides of your thighs, plunged through the velvet fabric so that lines of red were exposed in the slits he left behind. A soft moan escaped you at the sensation of talons digging through your skin, and he watched your expression in the mirror’s reflection as he did it over your backside. “Do you like that, whore?” he whispered in your ear. “When I leave my mark on you? When all you can feel is me?”

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed in response. He buried his face in the juncture of your neck and collarbone, taking a deep breath in that still smelled like mutt, fueling his need to erase that smell completely. His kisses were wet, sloppy, tongue traced over the length of your collarbone, of your neck. A soft sigh escaped you, your grip on the perimeter of the mirror growing tighter as the need to touch Keigo grew. His teeth sank into the soft spot of your neck, your head falling back on his shoulder as he suckled the skin there, a patch of pink blossoming against the skin there that would eventually bruise. The assault against your neck and your shoulders didn’t stop there, either. He ran his nose along the length of your shoulders, leaving trails of wet, angry patches from where he’d bit and pulled at your skin. There wasn’t a single ounce of Keigo that was kidding when he said he was going to erase every trace of anyone on your body but him. His cock was hard, and it would have been so easy to just bury himself inside the soft warmth of your cunt, and god how he ached to.

But the best things came to those that waited.

While his tongue and mouth worked at your neck and shoulders, his fingers played with your breasts, groping and pulling at the skin there with reckless abandon. Fingers pinched at your nipples, sharpened nails ghosted across the tender flesh there. You shuddered, shifted where you stood as you ground against his hips, feeling the thick length of him there. Keigo had barely even touched you, but you could feel the pool of warmth between your thighs only growing wetter. “Keigo,” you mewled.

“Hmm?” his breath came hot against the ear he had been nibbling on, and your knees knocked together.

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

“Touch you where?” His tone sounded positively bored, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger that caused you to squeal.

“My pussy,” you caught sight of your own desperate expression in the mirror, all while Keigo looked like a predator playing with his food. And in that moment, you realized this was exactly what it was. Keigo was toying with you before he sent you to the next level of existence. Your legs quivered. “Play with me.”

“Have you been a good little bird?” He asked.

“Yes.”

His hum seemed to be a satisfied answer, because his hands left your breasts, finding a new home at the back of your dress. But rather than go for the zipper, Keigo simply tore the fabric. The sound of it ripping filled the room as it pooled down at your feet seconds later. Leaving you exposed save for the same colored red pair of panties you’d worn that night. The dress had left no room for a matching bra given the dip at your back it’d once had. But that was of no consequence to Keigo. Keigo let out a sharp breath through his teeth as he admired your body and all that came with it. His hands found the curve of your backside, kneading the flesh there with thought. You could feel the tent of him pressing in between your thighs, and you let him slip between your thighs, shifting your thighs back and forth to alleviate some of the tension in his cock for him.

On instinct, more due to the fact that the bird in him wanted to cover you in his scent and his cum, Keigo rolled his hips into you with a snap of a thrust. It pushed you forward, almost sending you colliding with the mirror. “Little bird, that wasn’t very nice of you.” He scolded, letting a finger draw under the band of your panty before lifting it up. A moment later it was slapping against your skin, and you hissed. “I’ll have to punish you. Such behavior tonight...” he drawled, quickly shedding his formal attire until he was dressed down to just his pants. Keigo pressed his chest against your back, rubbing himself against you. His free hand returned to one of your breasts, toying with the nipple there as he murmured in your ear, his voice husky.

Feral.

“So naughty tonight...” Keigo continued as his other hand slipped down the front of your body, underneath the dark red lace that had kept that pretty little cunt concealed from him. He found how wet you already were for him, slick glaze quick to coat his fingers as he ran them up and down between your legs. “Already so ready for me. You really are the little tease, aren’t you?” A moan escaped you as he teased the tip of his finger around the circle of your clit, but not quite touching it. “So filthy...” he went on, breath hot against where he’d drawn out hickies moments before.

You were so eager for him to be inside of you, already so wet for him, Keigo had the perfect punishment for you being so naughty. He brushed his thumb against your clit, and your grip on the mirror slid down as you fought not to grab onto him. He was tantalizingly slow as he circled around your clit, tapping against the swollen bud every so often but not often enough for what you needed in that moment. His chuckle was dry, the hand that had been playing with your breast sneaking up to your neck. Your thighs were slick with your need, your core on fire as he teased you closer and closer to your edge.

Keigo tipped your head back, opening your mouth as he leaned in. As he spat on the tongue you’d pushed out like the slut you were. Every possible hole he could find to fill you with, Keigo was going to. You weren’t going to be able to walk down the fucking street without a single person forgetting who you belonged to. “What do we say, little bird?”

“Thank you,” you rasped as he slid two fingers into you, feeling him stretch your walls as he slowly pumped them in and out of you. He was slow, methodical, holding your jaw in place so that he could look down at that awestruck expression on your face as he finger fucked you. Your belly was on fire, waves of fire rolling as your orgasm wound tighter and tighter around his fingers. Keigo could feel his own cock slick with his precum, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last much longer himself.

“I don’t like it when other people look at you like you’re theirs for the taking,” Keigo muttered when he the tip of his nail along your clit. The featherlight sensation caused your knees to buckle, your hips to buck as you fell back into him. “You’re mine. And I’m going to fill you so fucking good that no one makes that mistake again.” He stretched your walls further with a third finger, and you writhed in your standing position as he continued to work those fingers in and out of you. The coil in your belly was wound tight enough where you thought

“Who do you belong to, little bird?” His fingers picked up pace, the sound of your silken glaze coating him filling the room while you fought to make your brain remember words. Your mouth hung open as he finger-fucked you, head bobbing against his shoulder as he looked down at you expectantly. “Tell your man who this pussy belongs to, and I’ll let you cum.” He could feel how close you were, the sound of your mewls turning to pants.

“You! It belongs to you!” you whimpered, grinding against his hand, your hips rolled forward to press his fingers deeper inside you. “Please, Keigo!”

This satisfied him enough, at least for now. His pace quickened still until your head was hung forward between your shoulders, moaning his name over and over as you watched him finger fuck you. Your orgasm was on the brink, the precipice of pleasure and all you needed was -

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, Ke-AH,” That needed push found you moments later and you were spilling around the spread of his fingers, your orgasm taking over you as your legs spasmed, knees buckling so that Keigo had to support you with a hand around your waist. Your grip on the outer of the mirror so ironclad you thought you’d break it. It rolled through you in waves, Keigo’s fingers sticky as he pulled them from you, suckling your sweetness of his fingers like it was candy. Shit.

“What a good little slut,” he whispered. The sound of his belt loosening, the pants falling, re-sparked that fire you’d just doused by orgasming. You could see his cock, curved and thick with a head already milking his cum. “Gonna fill you so good now, gonna fuck you full of my cum.” You watched, mouth dry as he milked himself with a fist. “Gonna watch me fuck you, baby bird.” You could feel the press of his head between your thighs, and you widened your stance to accommodate him.

Then, without warning, he thrust so hard into you, that you cried out in pain. His thrusts from the get go were borderline violent, painful as you fought against being thrown into the glass of the mirror. A hand fisted into your hair, pulling it sharply enough that you could feel the pain, but with enough leeway that you could still watch as he moved in and out of you, his cock already wet with what was left behind from your first orgasm. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, the smell of sweet sex coming shortly after. You were unable to make any intelligible noises aside from mewls and gasps, while Keigo was behind you muttering to himself about how good your pussy felt, how it was made for his cock, how he was going to fill you up so fucking good.

The mountain climb to your orgasm started again, your cunt clenching around him as he thrust in and out of you with feverish need. His hips were sloppy, and you didn’t dare tear your eyes away from where he slipped in and out of you. “Such a sweet fucking cunt,” Hawks groaned, twisting your hair tighter in his fist. “My fucking pussy.” he hissed with a thrust that hit the highest point of your wall and caused you pain. Yet you didn’t dare stop. The look on Keigo’s face, the roll of his bottom lip between his teeth, let you know he was close to his high. The sight of him so focused on fucking you wound your belly tighter, and you missed the hand that slipped down to your clit once more. You cried out, the over-sensitized nub of your clit protesting as his thumb found it once more. The grip you had on the mirror shifted again, a move to get his hand away from where you were most sensitive.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he growled, and your legs quivered. His eyes were still narrowed into near-invisible slits as you obeyed the order. You shook, spasmed, as he raced your orgasm to line up with his.

“Please, please, ah, hrnngh, Kei-” your hips found the rhythm to match his almost instantly, and tears sparked in your eyes as the bundle of nerves exploded inside of your body, every nerve ending inside you set on fire, exploding as your second orgasm found you just moments before Keigo found his own.

“Fuck, fuck yeah, gonna fill you so fuckin-Urngh,” Keigo groaned, fucking into you with one last violent thrust as he spilled himself in you, shooting ribbons of cum that went scorching through your core. There was a moment as the two of you stood there, Keigo still inside of you, breathing heavily. You on the other hand, were shaking all over, barely able to keep yourself on both legs.

Keigo’s callused finger pad was still resting over your clit, and even the smallest shift sent a wave of pleasured pain coursing through your entire body. You were overstimulated, likely to cum if he persisted again. “Kei...” you whispered. His head was resting over your collarbone, hung low. He reached out and slapped your hand away, pressed it back to the mirror. He wasn’t done with you.

“Told you, little bird. Gotta punish you.”

A whimper rolled through you, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” you let out a whine as he tapped his thumb against you again, slowly rolling a half-hard cock in and out of you as he started at your clit again. Massaging it slowly, cruelly. Your legs bowed out, slack as it was on Keigo alone to keep you supported with your weight against his chest. “Gotta make sure you know,” his hips snapped against yours again, and those tears that had been hidden in your eyes slipped loose. “That no one else is gonna fuck you this good. No one’s gonna make you feel this good.” he said, your body screaming at you for relief, for the prickling of nerves in your skin to cease. “You’re my good little slut.” You could feel whatever remnants of his cum shooting out into you once more, wetness cascading down your thighs.

The perfume you’d been wearing now, Keigo noted, was mixed so heavily with his own pheromones and sex, that there was no mistaking who fucked you at night. Who you were mated to. You were all Keigo’s, and that was what mattered to him. But he still had to finish punishing you for being a little tease, for allowing that musky scent to be tarnished by anyone other than him. You were a whimpering, sobbing mess, flushed against his body as your hips moved on their own accord in time with the fingers he was using between your sopping lips. Your cries were pained, unintelligible pleas to cum and be released. Yet, he took his time. Feeling that sweet cunt clamp down around his fingers once he pulled out of you. A moment’s reprieve before his fingers stretched you all over again. He wound you tighter, and tighter, sending that fire racing through your veins.

“I can’-” you cried out, a threatening wave of pleasure and pain coursing through you. “Please let me cum, please. I’ll be good, I’ll be good.” tears were wet against your cheek as he played with you.

“You promise, little bird?”

“Yes! Yes I promise!” you begged.

After all that time of keeping your hands on the perimeter of the mirror, your third and final orgasm had them flying to Keigo’s hair for stable purchase as it overtook you. Your sobs filled the room as your rode out the final orgasm, your chest heaving in shuddering breaths as Keigo worked you through it, held onto your body tightly to keep you from collapsing. Your legs were soaked, your nether region slick from top to bottom. Keigo pulled his fingers from inside you, slick and thick coated with both of your bodily fluids. His eyes met yours through the mirror as those fingers dipped between your lips, pushing them onto the flat of your tongue as you lapped and sucked them clean. Only when he was satisfied you’d gotten every last drop of each other’s cum, did Keigo pull his fingers from your mouth.

“You did so good, little bird.” he cooed in your ear, nuzzling his nose against the curve of your ear as he placed gentle kisses to sweat-soaked hair. Brushed away the tears on your cheeks. “Such a good girl,” he said, a hand smoothing over the places he’d bitten and marked you. Lips gentle as he pressed chaste kisses to the place on his jaw where his talons pricked you. The feral need for Keigo to fuck you into oblivion was satiated for now, his touch now gentle as he caressed and soothed you, the aftershocks of an overstimulated orgasm lessening as time lapsed. He was pleased that your scent now, was so heavily mixed of him and that perfume. No one was going to act as Hound Dog had, especially now. His lips were soft against your temple, his thumbs tender against the curve of your shoulders. It was a scent he was immediately fond of, and a scent he’d do anything to protect, to maintain. Keigo hummed, folding you up into the safety of his arms, surrounded by nothing but contentedness.

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