#even if that means death and corruption along the way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nyanggk · 1 year

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FIRST CARESS: THE HIGH PRIESTS — s.jy & l.hs

PAIRINGS sub!priest!jake x succubus!dom!reader! x sub!priest!heeseung

IDOLS FEATURED ENHYPEN jay, jake, heeseung

SYNOPSIS For a succubus, purity is something to be ashamed of. People naturally lust and it's the very reason why demons like you have come to surface and now, you're about to show this town's priests' that no one can resist the temptation to sin.

GENRE smut with plot, supernatural, medieval au, demon au

WARNINGS explicit sexual content; non-con that turns into dub-con, threesome, dom/sub dynamics, corruption kink, oral sex, cock stepping, footjob, handjob, making, mouth/face fucking, both boys are under the influence

mocking/disregard for christian belief, sex with a demon, both boys slip in and out of consciousness

wc. 13k

n. although this is a given, this fic is made under the impression to satisfy readers only. this is in no way shape or form a statement of what someone should do in real life nor do I support these kinds of actions (non-con) and I suggest that everyone reads all the warnings carefully. thank you also to jinnie (@heeseongism) for the concept ♡

As a demon who feeds on humans' sexual desires, should innocence be something to be proud of?

Man would associate innocence with purity, while those who dwell into their lustful desires would be damned as tainted and therefore, shunned by society. Innocence is a bar that man themselves have set impossibly high, making it impossible for even the most devoted worshiper to reach. It seems as if even man have set themselves up to fail, and yet, despite this known unreachable standard, they pay no heed and continue to preach for someone perfect.

Supposedly, purity is the standard for both men and women— though it seems as if the rule is only strongly implemented towards the latter. They say that if you're pure, that means you are just, meaning you are closer to God on a spiritual level.

Over the course of numerous millenniums, man would continue to struggle to meet this ideal, not realizing that it isn't something that could be achieved. We're raised by our parents to be caring, kind, and untainted while they remain the opposite. It's quite the contrast, really. Those who have breaded due to their uncontainable want for intercourse, are those who set impending rules to keep their child from sinning. However, despite their best efforts to raise a child without blotches, the holy one above tests their fate relentlessly on end by sending them challenges, and you're one of them.

Having already reached your adult form as a succubus, otherwise a demon of sex and lust, ten years ago, you’ve gathered sufficient knowledge when it comes to the art of hunting down your prey. Some would argue that you’re a master at what you do; you know how to act, what draws them in, what they’re most tempted to do, and how much of them you can take in order for them to continue living and for you to quench your thirst. You don’t intend to kill them, but sometimes, it just can’t be helped when you're at the brink of death due to hunger.

It’s you over anyone else, and really, what’s so bad about having a fuckton of sex?

"God!" The boy beneath you screams out in pleasure when you bring yourself down ruthlessly, letting your cunt suck the whole length of his dick.

It almost makes you cackle at how ironic that word is when applied to your situation. You're a succubus, a demon who feeds on lust, yet here he is, screaming for God like you aren't giving him the time of his life. You want to slap the soul out of his body. How dare he preach for God when you're riding his dick better than any angel can? It's quite disrespectful if you're being honest, however, you choose not to say anything, knowing that if this town finds out you're anything but human, you're going to be tied up and beheaded.

It's been quite long since you've last conducted a feeding session, and your mana feels like it's getting drained and replenished with each strong bounce you make on his lap, along with the pleasure his dick feels rubbing against your g-spot. Usually, you'd have no problem doing everything, as it allows you to satisfy yourself without having to wait for your food to learn what you like, but with your mana drained, a light sheen of sweat is seeping against your skin. The boy doesn't mind though; if he's being honest, it makes you all the more hotter in his eyes.

"Aww, Jay," You coo while dragging your nails down his broad and sweaty chest in a teasing manner, sending the boy into a deeper frenzy as goosebumps rise on his olive skin as he watches streaks of red appear on his skin. "Too good?"

The said boy releases a whimper when he feels your pussy clench down on his whole length, prodding him to answer. "Yes, shit! You take me so well. "You're too good." He manages to blurt out before squeezing his eyes shut and his head falling back onto the mattress like he's lost all control over his body—which is true.

Never in Jay's life did he think that any girl could take his whole length inside their mound. Everyone always struggled to even get more than half of him in, and yet, here you are, doing the impossible. He met you at a sketchy alleyway on his way home from work selling fruits at the marketplace. Truthfully, it seemed as if you came out of nowhere because the moment his eyes turned to look elsewhere, your figure leaning against the concrete was there to greet him. He remembers the way his eyes just never seemed to stop raking over your body and how every curve and dip made him want more. It was as if he was being put into a trance because he just couldn't take his eyes off of you, completely ignoring his family that awaits him in their small, run-down cottage hidden in the woods.

Sooner or later, you approach him, making sure to jut your hips with every step towards him, the scent of your arousal filling Jay's nose from a meter away. Jay breaks out of his trance when he realizes that you're grinning at him, clumsily introducing himself to you, and then the rest has brought you to where you are now.

Your insides just feel amazing, like it was made just for him and his dick alone— it isn't. He swore when he first thrusted his dick inside you a few hours ago, that he would come on the spot. There's just something different about the way you move, the way you feel, and the way you talk that makes it seem as if your whole body was made for him. His wife could never satisfy him the way you do and it's not her fault. She doesn't know her husband is a cheat with a huge dick that can hardly fit inside a human's vagina without it hitting their womb.

And yes, "a few hours ago," meaning that ever since the two of you met, you've been going at it like rabbits in heat. You have no idea where the sudden drive to feed came from, as usually, a minute of sex would do to quench your thirst however, today, you've been craving more and sadly, Jay's having a hard time at giving it to you.

"I'm— ahh, fuck!" Jay's whole body seems to shake as he gives you his fourth climax. His throat has now grown sore and dry from all of the screaming, groaning, and moaning he's done in the past few hours and to be frank, he's already reaching his limit. So, when you tilt your head to the side and start bouncing on his length once again, he screams in protest as he digs his fingers onto your hips to stop your actions. "You're a fucking demon."

You only laugh at his joke, finding it humorous given how ironic it is. "Maybe I am." You smirk.

Copying your actions, Jay chuckles before shaking his head. "I really can't keep going, babe." He announces. "I'm gonna pass out."

"I'm not stopping until I get what I want."

And that's just what you did, except you may have sucked all the life force out of the poor boy.

Shame, he would've made an adorable pet.

Though you've already taken all of what he had, you were still starving, craving for more because one isn't enough; you need more.

If God is the creator of everything, then does that mean that he made your kind? To what? Test man's dedication and beliefs? If so, then his children are failing.

Walking past the small wooden entrance of the church, the loud clicks of your boots' heels echo every time they meet the hard marble floor. Looking up, you're greeted with the intricate paintings of Jesus and his becoming, while multiple sacred statues said to be made in the likeness of God and saints adorn every crevice of this holy place.

You can only release a small chuckle as you realize how sardonic all of this is. Above all the places you could've picked for your hunt, you just had to pick a church. What can you say? This place is rumored to have gorgeous looking pastors, and you're not one to turn down a delicious meal.

A figure cloaked in white hidden poorly inside the small confession booth catches your eye, and you can't help but grin in excitement as your eye turns a darker shade of lust. Even from afar, you can hear the testosterone in his veins, how pure the boy is, and how his body has been begging for release. You had a hunch that church boys would soothe your hunger better than anything else, and you were correct.

Calmly, you make your way towards the entrance of the booth, hunching down and sitting on the hard wooden seat right after. Thankfully, there aren't a lot of people inside. In fact, the cathedral seemed to be nearly empty— save for the few who were praying and the staff. So, you ignore how uncomfortable it is, how clogged the room is, and instead, divert your full focus onto the man that sat behind the wooden walls, separating the both of you.

"Hello, father." You greet with your head bowed down to conceal your smirk. You can vaguely make out the man's face from where you sat, the small holes carved onto the wall doing less than to hide his handsome front.

"Hello," You can almost hear the smile on his face, and this only makes your grin grow wider in return. You have no idea how, but his voice lets something inside you grow. Your desire for feeding is rising tenfold, and you have no idea for how long you'll be able to keep your lust at bay. The mere thought of having someone as pure as him sends your mind into a frenzy, as you can only imagine how delicious this boy will taste once he's under your control. The tone of his voice is so satisfying that it even makes your cunt water as it awaits his penetration. You can't wait to have him between your legs, and your mouth is already watering at the thought of having to taste his arousal. Your only option is to calm yourself down just for a little bit, not wanting to feel yourself grow sticky before you've even lulled your prey.

"What brings you here today?"

"I'm afraid I've committed a sin, Father." You say, your voice feigning sadness and shame.

"That's alright. The reason you've come here is to seek forgiveness and repent. Even that alone takes courage and you're admirable for that." You hear him say. His words only make you chuckle as you give absolutely no shits whether or not God forgave you or not, he's not yours to worship, and neither is God his. You think he should be worshiping you. "What is it that you did?"

Instead of answering his question, you throw one back at him. "What's your name, Father?" You ask, voice sounding dark while you lure him in. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

With the silence that takes over, you can tell that he's taken aback by your question because, honestly, who wouldn't? The purpose of this wall separating the both of you is to hide your identity, to make you feel less ashamed to confess your crimes and feelings because your persona isn't seen. Even if the two of you were to cross paths outside, he wouldn't be able to know it's you. So, although perplexed, he answers because, well, why shouldn't he?

"I'm Pastor Jake." He answers, tone sounding somewhat proud, and you can't help but coo when you notice him rocking in his seat between the gaps of the divider.

All you do is hum in acknowledgement, afterwards telling him your name. Your mind tries to form a plan in order to lure your prey towards somewhere more suitable for feeding, somewhere you can touch him without the worry of anyone finding out you're a demon.

"Father," You call out to him, raising your tone as you let your scent flood his nostrils. "Do you mind telling me about yourself first? I'm still kind of nervous."

You hear the boy stutter in his movements, no doubt due to the charm your aura is exuding. Nonetheless, he tries to recover by clearing his throat, answering your question right after. "Well…" He trails off in thought with a chuckle. "I'm actually quite nervous myself too, if I'm being honest."

At that, you make a sound of feigned amazement. Crossing your legs as you prompt your chin on the palm of your hands, you ask, "How so, father?"

Whatever he says next, you tune out. You swear it was something about it today being his first day appointed as a priest, but then again, you could be wrong. However, you're too busy looking around the place, hoping to find somewhere private to even care.

Your mouth is practically watering because of the scent he exudes. The smell of purity in his body lets your hunger grow, becoming more impatient to feed the more you hear the way he talks. He's the type of boy his parents would be proud of. He's the model apprentice that everyone aspires to be. Though, you know for a fact that he's certainly not enough to make your stomach full, but surely, his innocence has to count for something. You're soon going to lose control over everything, and your true form is going to reveal itself, the mana in your body proving to be insufficient as you feel it drain in half if you don't find a feeding place sooner.

The sudden noise of someone clearing their throat pulls you out of your thoughts, and you realize then that it was him who did it. And so, doing the same to compose yourself, you pull yourself together and begin your act once you've finally found a chamber used as a storage room that is accessible for the two of you. "Father, I don't think I can confess my sins here."

Silence arises between the both of you, and you're tense as you await a reaction. Assuming that he's going to let you continue, you tug. "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm not forcing you to confess, and you can always take your time."

How sweet.

How is it possible for a human to be so innocent and caring? You're almost saddened by the fact that you have to ruin him. It's a shame his God couldn't protect him from the likes of you.

"Is there somewhere more private where we can talk?" You ask, trying to segue the conversation to where you can lure him.

"U-Uhm… I'm not sure if it's okay—" He mumbles but you cut him off.

"I don't mind you seeing my face. I'm just not comfortable telling you here." You reason it out, hoping for him to be dumb enough to take the bait. "Can we go somewhere more secluded?"

He's conflicted. Realizing you're not the normal town folk he always sees entering the church, he wants to leave a good impression— especially since it's his first day of service. His town is small, everyone knows each other. Thus, he wants to be known as a priest that everyone can feel comfortable confiding in. So, wanting to be just that, he accepts your offer, letting you lead him towards the storage room, unbeknownst to your true intentions and form.

The two of you are about to reach your safe haven for the day when another person's voice abruptly makes the two of you stop. Your back is turned towards the person as you clench your jaw at having been stopped, and you don't make a move to turn, wanting to hide your face from the other.

"Jake?" You hear a man's voice say "Where are the two of you going? The mass is about to start."

Innocently, Pastor Jake just shrugged. "Everything is fine. I'll be there, don't worry."

And with that, you make quick steps in order to drag the boy farther away from the crowd. Once both of you were inside, you intentionally left the door unlocked, savoring the possibility of someone walking in and joining the two of you.

You walk over to him after doing so, placing yourself so close that he can feel your breath hitting his face.

He's a bit taken aback by your sudden movements; however, he doesn't peep a protest but stutters back in order to give the two of you some space.

Your meal is a beautiful sight to see. Your senses weren't wrong when it told you that the man behind the border was handsome. His hair is a beautiful shade of midnight black and it falls so naturally across his chiseled face. His eyes are wide and puppy-like and it's no surprise to you when you notice the upwards hook at the edges of his mouth, making him look like an adorable pet. Unlike the usual priests you've seen across the other towns, you really have to praise this one for having such young and youthful looking priests as they serve to be the most flavourful dishes. Not long has passed yet you're becoming weaker by the second and you can feel your composure dissipating as you imagine the future events that are about to happen once you put him under control.

Not wanting to wait any longer, you let your tail reveal itself, both because you wanted to conserve your remaining mana and because you yearn to see the look on his face once he finds out what you're going to do to him.

"Jake…" You call out his name without the title, releasing a chuckle after seeing the shocked look on his face as his mouth hangs open at the sight of your raven black tail swishing excitedly.

"Father, I've been starving." You say, voice sounding too alluring for Jake to keep his mind straight as the scent of your charm floods through his senses once again. Only this time, it makes him weaker as his body submits itself to your orders.

Feeling his knees start to buckle, he falls on the cold marbled floor with a soft thud. "W-What is happening to me?" He asks in a fit of desperation when he realizes he's unable to will his limbs to move.

The desperate and helpless look oozing inside his puppy dog eyes sets your body on fire. Your tail keeps swishing from behind you in glee as your horns slowly reveal themselves, sitting comfortably on the crown of your head.

"Y-You're a demon…" He concludes, words sounding awfully slurred as his eyes turn hooded with lust.

Smirking, you reply, "You just noticed?"

Come to think of it, he should've known that you were different from the start; your natural scent just seemed to stand out above everything else, the way the tone of your voice made him shiver, and the way you had no interest in anything other than yourself were clear signs. But in the end, how was he supposed to know that you were a creature that's out of this world?

Yes, the Bible talks about them, but, poor Jake has never seen one in person— nevertheless, this close and this pretty. There's this thing called "blind faith" in Christianity, which means that the servants of God should believe in him despite not being able to see. He just didn't think it worked the other way around, that he should've believed that demons existed without having to have seen them in person.

Although he's still baffled, he's aware that you're real. Although, half conscious, he knows what's going to happen next. He doesn't know what it is you clearly want from him, though. You said you were starving, so could it possibly mean that you're a vampire seeking blood? No, that's certainly not it, because if that were the case then there'd be no need for the boner that's peeking through his robes.

"Aww," You say in a high pitched voice, clearly mocking his inability. "Is the pastor begging for some pussy? I bet your dick is just begging to be touched. My, how have you survived all these years without release?"

The boy frowns at your words, wondering why you chose such vulgar things, but against his will, his dick twitches and it makes you smile.

Squatting down, you crawl your way towards his figure. When you reach him, you put your face close to his, making sure that your noses are touching, and you rub them together to feign comfort.

Because of the close proximity, you've once again been given a chance to look at his features; how clear his skin is and how there isn't an area of imperfection. You can see the light sprinkles of brown that fall onto his cheeks, where the sun usually hits. His eyelashes are long and perfectly curled upward, and his body trembles at your touch.

Unable to wait any longer, you make him take his robes off because, although the thought of corrupting someone as pure as him with a priest's robe on makes your cunt drip, you'd rather fuck him without it. You're just dying to see how his body looks underneath all those layers of clothing. After doing so, you sit on his lap, making him lean back on his palms as you wrap your limbs around his body.

Surprisingly, he's well built for someone who attends a book club more than the average townie, and his skin is as pure as milk. You skim your hands down from his chest, feeling and cupping each peck. Your fingers slowly rub against his nipples, and Jake's body can't help but twitch at the sensation. He'd try to pry your wandering hands off of him, but something in his body is preventing him from doing so. It feels wrong and strangely intimate, something he should be doing with someone he knows, but then again, he's unsure why it feels this good.

He watches with shaken eyes as you drag your hands from the middle of his chest and down to his lower abdomen to trace every ab he has on his stomach, and you only smile deviously as you watch how heavy his breathing has become.

You reach back and take his hands in yours, admiring the soft pink that coats his knuckles and the veins that protrude through his skin. Bringing his hand close to your mouth, you lean in and slowly lick each knuckle. You love the way he takes a deeper inhale when he feels the warm coat of your saliva coating his skin, making you smile in amusement, confidently repeating your actions.

You don't miss the thin layer of sweat arising on his skin nor do you take your eyes off of every muscle in his stomach. Looking further down on his body, you take a long pause just to look at his dick. With the effect of your charm, the boy has grown impossibly hard in mere minutes and is leaking all of himself. There's a small glob of precum right outside his hole, tempting you to lick it and so, you do.

You get off from his lap, once again going on all fours just so you can reach the underside of his dick. You lean closer towards his balls before digging your tongue on his thick length upwards towards the tip of his dick. You make sure to suck him as hard as you can, wanting to taste more of the precum coming out of his pretty dick more than anything else.

Jake lets out a loud whimper at your actions, hands bunching your hair in an effort to pull you off of him. He's only half intoxicated with your scent, just how you wanted it. His body is under your spell and all it wants is release, however, his mind is still conscious, knowing full well what's happening. He's trying to fight it. Believe him, he is. But it's hard when your own body is fighting against you. Though, that won't last for long because you know that with the way his body is reacting so early on in your rendezvous, he's soon going to give in fully without the need to use your magic because that's how man works. Once they've gotten a taste of what it's like to feel pleasure, they'll never want to go back.

You stay on all fours as you suck the life out of him, eliciting pretty grunts from the boy as he starts to shake in his seat due to the erotic sounds you were making while taking his dick down your throat. Making sure to bob your head, you let the drool pooling inside your mouth to escape past your lips and trail down his dick, reaching his balls.

Jake puts little to no effort into pulling you off of him, as every time he tries to pry your lips away from his dick, he has no choice but to stop and halt his movements with a loud cry, feeling you suck his dick harder than ever in defiance.

Finally, after what seemed like a full five minutes of purely sucking him inside your mouth, you release him. You let out a loud breath, letting his dick fall out of your mouth as oxygen returns to your lungs. With his hardness, Jake's dick still stands tall as it twitches every so often, waiting for more friction as he watches your eyes eye it maniacally.

You stick your tongue out for him to see the remnants of his precum clinging to your wet muscle, your saliva mixing with them. The boy lets out a small moan of pleasure, still in denial of how quickly he's growing to love your assault on his body. His eyes enlarge when he feels you wrap your hand around his dick, immediately moving to grip your wrist in a move to stop you, but his efforts are left in vain when you move your hand slowly along his length, ignoring the clutch he has on you.

With each stroke, Jake lets out whimpers of pleasure as you introduce him to yet another form of sin. His head is thrown back in pleasure, the volume of his moans heightening when he feels you rub him faster.

"Is it okay, Jake?" You ask, hand still moving at the same fast pace as it was before.

Jake is too busy whimpering as he looks at the way your hand moves up and down across his whole length with teary eyes, too dumb to comprehend what you just said. He's gasping every so often, making sure not to let himself get too loud and scream.

When you notice he isn't going to reply, you spit out a thick glob of saliva onto the tip of his dick and start jerking him off faster. Smiling, dubiously, you tsk out, "I asked you a question, father. Don't ignore me."

At the sudden change of pace, Jake lets out a loud cry. His eyes are squeezed shut, and his head gets thrown back, letting you see the way his Adam's apple moves as he gulps. "No! I— S-Stop… please."

Offended, you take your hands off of him and stand up to leave. When he feels your hands and warmth escape him, his eyes bulge at the loss of contact before desperately searching for you across the room.

His eyes are still in a daze, his body buzzing so loudly that he can feel his ears start to sting. When his eyes finally regain some consciousness, he looks for you and finds you lazily leaning against an empty table. His eyes turn into those adorable dog-like eyes that you were talking about earlier, and you might be wrong, but it seems as if they're begging for you to come back and touch him.

"Please…" He squeaks out in a shy tone, peeking at you through his eyelashes, and you resist the urge to cradle his head to your chest and treat him like a baby.

You're no sadist. You want to turn this man around and make him beg to be your dog. Make him realize what he's been missing, and at this point, you're just too in love with the way his sweat covered chest rises every time he takes a breath to compose himself and the pleasure filled look on his face when you were pumping his dick with your hand for you to let him go so easily.

Greedily, and feeling your patience running thin, you motion for him to come to you, and he does so, stumbling and clumsily staggering towards you. Once he does, you lean in and attach your lips to his neck, unable to contain the desire to mark your new territory. You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours. His boner pokes against your inner thighs, and all you want to do is take him in already, but even though you're feeling desperate, you want him to break first, or else your ego wouldn't allow it.

"I—" Jake says before cutting himself off with a grunt once he feels you suck on the base of his neck harder.

"Hmm?" You reply, humming against the part of his neck where his shoulder and throat connects which causes a mode of vibrations to shoot through his body. As you do so, you take your hand and place it back on his dick, feeling him sigh from above you once he feels the pleasure coming back.

Endless shots of tingles overtake him and though he wants to say something, he can't because the combined movements of your hand pumping his dick and the open-mouthed kisses you leave across his neck is making his mind grow fuzzy, rendering him unable to speak.

Noticing this, you decide to take pity on him and to show him how merciful you can be. You tone down your movements to a more leisure pace and you automatically feel his body relax, no longer on the run to chase his orgasm.

Jake shivers when he feels your hot breath fanning his ear and he can't contain the moan that he lets out when he feels you bite on the shell.

"Speak." He hears what you say, but even though your hand has slowed down its movement on his dick, he still can't form a sentence because now, he doesn't even remember what he wanted to say in the first place.

Oh, you're messing with him. He can tell your whole being in itself is messing with his mind all together and you're doing a damn good job at it. Just thinking about your pretty red lips wrapped around the whole of his dick sets his mind into a frenzy.

Looking up, he hopes that God will forgive him for the sinful act he's committing, knowing full well that having intercourse out of wedlock is a vital sin in itself. But he's taken away once he hears you laugh at him as you shake your head, finding him entertaining, and only then does he notice that he's said his apologies out loud.

All of a sudden, his mind seems to have retaken its consciousness as his cheeks erupt in flame. All he can do is condemn you in his mind for giving him his conciseness back at the worst timing possible, and this time, he makes sure to say it in his mind and not aloud.

In your defense, he wanted to say something. That's why you gave him the privilege of thinking coherently again.

Now, all Jake wants to do is hide himself, but he can't. Not when he's caged by your arms around his waist. He knows his confession should be the last thing he should be worried about. You're literally stroking his hardened cock in your hands while his clothes are disregarded somewhere inside the room, so clearly, he has more things to be embarrassed about. But Jake's mind is getting fuzzy again. Though you've given him the freedom to take action, he's at a loss. With your charm or not, he has somewhat fallen for your game, and with the lustful look you're giving him while you patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts, it's only a matter of time before he loses all control.

"W-What are you?" He squeaks out again like last time just for the sake of talking to you, eyes down at you shyly.

"My poor Jake," You coo, cradling his face in the palm of your hand. "You really are the most innocent thing I've ever seen. I can just eat you whole."

At that, Jake's eyes widen, fear swimming within those pretty doe eyes. He freezes in his spot as his whole body tenses when he hears your laugh echo all throughout the room. It's scary and there's a part of him that knows your words have a possibility of becoming his reality.

Though he's scared of you, there's another part inside him that's egging him on— a part that wants you to kneel down and take his dick inside your mouth again. He thinks it's you, thinks that it's your charm affecting him. However, like you've said, it's been a long time since you clouded his mind, so really, he's just being a massive pervert. But he doesn't need to know that. You'll let him entertain his thoughts and watch him crumble beneath you while still being in denial because you live to see the conflict in a man's eyes.

"D-Do you really… mean that?" He squeaks out, his voice sounding so small as his lips rest in a pout.

"Hmm," You contemplate, and from Jake's point of view, he's at a loss for words because he just doesn't know what to expect from you. You're something out of this world, and it's impossible for a mere human like him to predict your motives. "Do you believe in demons, father? Demons of Lust to be exact."

Gosh, he should've known, if angels existed, so should you. All his life, he prayed for the guidance of angels and saints. If only he knew that all of them were wasted in vain. That just when he thought that he had come one step closer to being a better servant of God, he's here kneeling before a demon who feeds on humans' sexual desires.

Seeing the mortified look on the boy's face, you scoff in amusement. "Did you really think holy water could keep me away from you? May you bathe in a gallon or drink it whole, I will still be able to touch you," You say in a menacing tone. You grip his locks in your hand, forcing him to straighten and meet your eyes. "Consume you at most."

You can feel Jake's body start trembling, and you can only bite your tongue for your stupidity. You didn't intend to scare him with facts, so you take the liberty and tuck his face into your neck, telling him to take a deep breath so that your scent can cloud his mind once again. Immediately, his body starts to relax, and his mouth opens wide to get more of the air mixed with you inside his body. You let him repeat the same actions for minutes, letting him calm himself down, and to your surprise, you felt him start placing open mouth kisses on your neck soon after.

Jake's plush lips against your neck, mixed with the airy moans he's letting out while you caress his head, make Jake hum in delight, mouth still pressed against the side of your neck.

"So… pretty." He looks at the skin with clouded eyes, cock twitching when he looks at the saliva that coats the skin that he had just kissed and sucked. You can't help but hum in satisfaction as you feel the boy start grinding his boner against your thigh, and you let him do whatever he wants. His dick is painfully hard against your skin, and knowing that he's now under your control, your hole starts begging again.

His hips rock against your thigh, and you feel him pick up the pace as time goes by— probably getting a feel of his orgasm. The volume of Jake's moans starts to heighten, and you let him use your thigh as a surface to get off on, humming every now and then whenever he looks at you with eyes that seemed as if he was begging, pleading for any sort of validation and climax.

"I- I… Something's—" He says, cutting himself off when a particular thrust becomes a little too pleasurable. "I… Should I keep going? I feel like… I'm going to— to pee myself."

Fuck

Of course, he doesn’t know what an orgasm is. He’s an innocent boy. How can he know such a sinful thing?

The boy has probably never experienced dick relief in his entire life and has probably woken up in the middle of the night with a wet patch in his boxers. Did he think he peed himself? That’s so adorable. However, there’s not a doubt in your body that the boy oozes sex appeal without even having any sort of experience in the field.

He has probably never masturbated in his life, has he? This is probably his first time humping anything, and the thought alone makes you swoon.

Cooing, you pat the top of his head to show your affection, pouting in mockery due to how innocent and cute the boy is.

You bunch up his hair in your hands, and seeing him look at you with hooded eyes turns you wicked. His mouth is open, moans easily, spilling out now that his orgasm is nearing. "Let go, Jake. Be a good whore and show me how you look when you cum untouched." You spit out.

Jake audibly gasps when you call him such a name, looking as if he’s been betrayed. You’re treating him with so much care, letting him hump your thigh while you pat his head and yet, you call him a whore?

He’s not a whore. Jake never sleeps around. Hell, Jake has never kissed anyone but his mother, let alone touch a woman like this before. Well, technically, you aren’t a woman woman. You’re a demon. Not human, but still a woman at best, so he’ll count it. Well, not that he’s proud of it— is he?

Why would you call him one? Though he wants to appeal and tell you that he isn't, Jake doesn't get a chance to because just when he was about to peak his orgasm, he suddenly freezes, hearing the door open.

"Hello? Ja—" Standing by the door you’ve purposely left unlocked is a boy wearing the same clothes as Jake. There, he stands frozen at the scene of you and Jake in the corner of the room.

Jake’s back is facing him, giving the stunned boy a nice view of his exposed ass while in between the legs of a woman who has horns on her head and a tail swishing behind her. It’s really an odd sight. Even without the extra anatomy added onto you, it would still be strange, not to mention inappropriate — especially inside a church, a place where they’re supposed to give themselves to Christ. Yet, here the two of you are, having sexual intercourse beside a statue of St. Nicholas— the two of you didn’t notice that, though.

Embarrassed, Jake dives into your neck and hides while his body presses against yours as if he thinks he can mold into you and magically disappear.

"J-Jake? What is…" The boy doesn’t get to utter another word, as before he could even finish his question, you're already darting out a hand, expressing your charm, and letting the boy in question fall under your spell. Jake watches as his friend falls into a dazed trance, half wondering if that's what he looks like right now even though he has stayed somewhat conscious thanks to you, and half not giving a damn.

"Who’s that, Jake?" You whisper at the back of his ear. Your breath tickles him, which results in him cringing further into your body. Cutely, he whines, still embarrassed at being caught.

"That’s Heeseung Hyung." He answers, mumbling against you. "He’s another newly appointed priest, like me."

So, you will be able to fully quench your thirst after such a long time of waiting.

With the fantastic turn of events, you motion for Heeseung to come near both of you. As Heeseung strides towards the both of you, you take Jake's face out of his comfort zone— your neck, as you pull him in for a messy kiss.

It looks rushed and dirty, but you won't have it any other way. From an onlooker's point of view, it looked as if you were trying to eat his face whole with the way your tongue is digging down his throat and how you're sucking so violently on his bottom lip. Your hand crawls down from his waist and all the way down towards the plush skin of his ass, palming and kneading the flesh as you push them into you, guiding them to press onto your clothed vagina.

Jake releases a loud moan into your mouth when he feels your soaked heat, and his mouth opens ajar from the pleasure the mere act of pressing his dick against you gives. Nevertheless, you don't stop your actions and continue to suck on his swollen lips.

Eyeing the boy, Heeseung, with hooded eyes as you continue to feel up Jake's body, you watch as his doll-like eyes begin to cloud even hazier with lust, just like his friend. You're going to have a field day with this town's priests. Where the fuck do they get them? They're all so fucking hot. So, you wonder why they would waste their beauty serving God and not you at some old, run-down shithole?

Never mind that. You can take matters into your own hands. They were born into this belief which means it's easier to sway them, and show them what it feels like to live freely without any bounds.

Sex is amazing, and lust isn't a sin; it's a fucking blessing.

Already, you're in love with Heeseung's eyes. His eyes portray every emotion so vividly. You can see the longing in his eyes as he watches his friend get the majority of your attention, and you can see how he's silently begging for you to order him around.

No more are the innocent priests who knew nothing but to kneel before God. Now, they kneel stark naked before you, worshiping your cunt as you order both of them to eat you out like their lives depended on it. Both of them are intoxicated, and Jake has given up in trying to regain consciousness. Besides, he knows you'll give it to him eventually if he's good. All he wants now is to please you. To hear your praises ringing through the walls.

While you instruct Jake to thrust his tongue inside and around your soaking cunt, you guide Heeseung to place himself above the other as he sucks your clit. Your legs are spread wide, both in order to accommodate the both of them and to make it easier for you to watch them go crazy over the taste of a vagina.

The loud sound of slurping and sucking fills the walls of the storage room, both boys moaning against your pussy at your taste. You're sweet and addictive, it's otherworldly. Neither of them can get enough, as they hardly even make a move to leave your cunt. They're moaning against it, and you doubt either of them would leave anytime soon.

When Heeseung starts sucking and flicking his tongue and Jake thrusts his whole tongue inside your hole, you give them their reward in a form of praise. "The both of you are so fucking good. So innocent and pretty." You hum, swaying Heeseung's hair away from his forehead.

Suddenly, Heeseung pulls away from your grasp and Jake does the same against your vagina. Both of them looked repulsed and confused. You quirk an eyebrow at this, about to ask them what the matter was, before Jake licks his lips clean, saying, "You shouldn't cuss, Miss."

And to add to that, Heeseung says, "God will be angry at you if you say bad words like that."

For the love of Lucifer, can this scene be anymore entertaining? Two innocent men who have served God longer than they have known how to speak, kneeling before a succubus; the very being that encourages them to sin, and they're worried about you cussing.

"Don't worry about me, boys. God already despises me," You say, clicking your tongue as you cup Jake's cheeks in one hand, fingers pressing against his soft skin, making the boy pout. "And I, to him."

"But God forgives everyone, Miss!" Heeseung bursts, leaning his head against your inner thighs before placing a quick kiss against it.

"Not so sure about that. Besides, God should be the least of your worries right now." You dismiss it, already fed up with the topic.

The two look at each other innocently, both tilting their heads as if to ask the other what they should do. They're convinced that you are worthy of forgiveness, seemingly forgetting the fact that you are the reason they're committing a sin. Nonetheless, they dismiss it when neither of them answers, and you watch in delight as the two of them suck and thrust, tail swishing to show them how much you enjoy it.

You insert two fingers in your mouth, coating them with saliva before releasing them with a loud pop. With your other hand, you grip the back of Heeseung's head, dragging him to lay on top of you on all fours while Jake takes control over your pussy.

Once he's well situated on your stomach near your pelvis, you eye your finger, signaling for him to lean in and take it in his mouth. However, it seems as if you forgot that these two are more inexperienced than a newborn sex demon because Heeseung just eyes your fingers in wonder.

"Well, you're just the most adorable thing on earth, aren't you, pretty boy?" You chuckle at yourself after realizing this, and you tap your fingers against his pouty lips. Picking up the signs you throw at him, Heeseung takes your fingers in his mouth, sucking and bobbing his head like how you would suck dick, nodding his head against them to show you that he agrees with your statement.

"Miss~" You hear Jake whine against your cunt before he nips at your clit to show his distaste. "I thought I was your pretty boy?"

"Fuck, Jake." You curse out after seeing Jake's chin and lips practically covered in your juices. Despite the sexual deeds that the three of you have been doing, the two still manage to look impossibly innocent, and somehow, that makes you want to ruin them more.

From where he's sitting, Heeseung listens in on your conversation with his friend. He looks at Jake when he speaks and then back at you when he hears you curse once again. His brows knit together, and his pout is ever so evident, even when your fingers are in between his lips. "Miss!"

He's scolding you, but you're not in any way, shape, or form threatened by it. Instead, you laugh, throwing your head back as you retract your hand from Heeseung's mouth.

You sigh. "The two of you are a dream."

However, Heeseung isn't one to back down, as is Jake. Their stare at you is relentless, expecting you to apologize for using such vulgar language towards them. Neither of them can take the fact that a pretty creature like you, who's satisfying them with this new found feeling, is using such horrid words. So, now, as if they're on their last straw— they aren't— they ask you to apologize.

You roll your eyes at the two of them and scoff out a simple "Sorry." And just like clockwork, Jake goes back to work on eating you out while Heeseung leans his face close to yours, asking for a kiss.

You let out a satisfied hum as the two of you start making out. It's slow and quite sensual— the complete opposite of what you and Jake were doing prior. This is new, and you didn't think you were going to be into it, but alas, you find out something new every day, don't you?

Hunched over as he kisses you, Heeseung's dick lays heavy and angry against your stomach, twitching from time to time as you feel beads of precum escaping his head. You reach over and grab it in your hands, slowly jerking him off.

It takes the boy by surprise, making him gasp into the kiss in shock as he lurches forward. "W-What are you do— Ohh."

His body writhes in pleasure, and it takes him a few seconds to regain the ability to resume his kiss with you. You don't mind though; you're happy to see his reaction just by you pumping his dick at such a lazy pace.

Innocent.

So. Fucking. Innocent.

You have no idea whether you should damn their parents to heaven— since hell is your personal paradise— for making such handsome men and giving them no education when it came to sexual acts or be grateful. Just realizing how pure these two are makes a gush of arousal surge out of your vagina, and Jake is quick to lay his tongue flat against your skin and lick it up.

After a while of continuing the same agenda on repeat, you finally deem the time appropriate. Honestly, your cunt has been dripping more than it usually does during feeding— granted, some of the liquid is actually Jake's saliva. Well, it's understandable since there's two gorgeous men on top of you.

Initially, you had wanted to prolong all of this, but your patience is running thin and your hole is literally clenching around nothing. It's only a matter of time before you're begging for one of them to put their dicks in you, but thankfully, they cave in first.

"Miss," Jake calls out, lifting his face momentarily from your vagina, only to rub his nose against your clit affectionately before murmuring a choked, "My… thing... it hurts so bad."

Hearing his friend confess gives Heeseung the courage to do the same, choking out a plea as he nods his head in agreement. Both of them look at you with those pretty eyes, and you immediately agree— not that you were going to deny them either way.

The bambi is obedient when it comes to your orders, as when you pat Heeseung's butt, telling him to stand up so you can lift yourself off of the table, he obeys, cutely climbing off of you. Now, both of them are standing, waiting for your instructions. Both their dicks look painfully erect, twitching as they hang in the air while they watch your naked figure hop off of the table.

You try to hide your need for the two boys as you feign it by arching your back, making it so that your chest is pressed onto the air while your butt rises, showing them your unrealistic curves. Your body, like any demon of lust, is something that's unachievable— like purity. It's an act, a tool used to bait their prey. Naturally, the more one looks at it, the further they go down the rabbit hole, hardly ever seen again until you free them from their cages.

Your body is exuding an absurd amount of your scent and charm. It intoxicated the two boys, making them hornier than they initially were. With just that, the boys are put under a lustful spell, and it's Jake who breaks composure first— not that you think Heeseung was doing any better seeing as he's eyeing his dick with curiosity, wondering why the fuck it was twitching so much. Neither of the boys could comprehend what was happening— one, because they were put under your spell, and two, because this has never happened before.

Heeseung could remember a time when he accidentally brushed his hand against his own bulge one time when it was erect, but he was immediately caught by his father. Needless to say, Heeseung was scheduled for an endless lecture at church and a whipping from his father while he prayed the bible by the poor young boy's hunched body on the ground. But with Heeseung's mind severely clouded with lust, all he could think about was sex and relief. As Heeseung eyes his dick with wide eyes, he wonders what it is that he should do to relieve the pain that it's causing. That's when he remembers what you did to him just a while ago—the way your hands felt so good on his dick and how noise after noise brought up by pleasure formed in his throat. He wonders, will it be the same if he did it to himself? Is he allowed to?

Warily and with shaking hands, he taps his head as an experiment, causing him to suddenly jolt and whine loudly as he pouts.

Hearing him, you quickly turn and smirk at the sight of both of them trying to get some relief without your proper guidance. They're just innocent little babies to you. Food that has somewhat turned you soft. They know jack shit about sex and they clearly know even less when it came to masturbating. So, you watch with amused eyes as Jake eventually falls to his feet and starts touching his dick but fails to get the same relief he wanted. From the looks of it, he's either squeezing too hard or too soft, and the way he's touching himself looks rather awkward. He's shaking his dick for some reason, but again, what were you expecting?

As a cocky smirk remains splattered across your lips, you make your way towards Jake's helpless figure. You place your feet on top of his whole erection, pressing a bit harder than usual just because you felt playful.

"Aww, poor Jakey can't get rid of his boner." You say this mockingly while stepping on his dick. The action causes the boy to throw his head back with a strangled groan. His hands snap to clutch onto your ankle, but like before, you aren't fazed. Instead, you dig the soles of your feet harder into him, toes rubbing his head.

When Jake realizes that what you're doing is helping him relieve the tense feeling in his private area, the hand on your ankle that was supposedly there to pull it off begins holding it in place instead.

You grin in hilarity as you watch Jake start grinding on your feet, sighing dreamily at the sight of him raising his hips to roll it onto your heel.

"What am I going to do to a dog like you, father?" You ask after a particularly loud moan leaves his lips. "When the townsfolk see how much of a slutty bitch their pastor is, do you think they'd laugh?"

"I-I… Uhm," He answers, feeling confused as to why the sound of you calling him by the title "father" arouses him so much. He isn't even able to complete his sentence, and he doesn't even try to remember what he had planned to say. All he can focus on is your skin on his penis and nothing else. Jakes' eyebrows knit together, his mouth still open as a whimper slips past it; however, the boy doesn't stop thrusting into your feet. He's even going as far as to rub your mid met onto the underside of his dick.

"You'd like that, won't you?" You scoff out, putting a large amount of weight onto the foot that's on Jake's cock. "Wanna make them hear how much of a slut you've turned into just for some quick relief."

The boy screams loudly, and you're sure someone from the other side of the door can hear him, but he's too far gone to care. In fact, he even nods at you in agreement. "Y-Yes!"

"Miss," You hear Heeseung call out to you with a whiny voice that resembles a child who wants attention. "Me too, please."

"I'm sorry, honey." Apologizing to him, you pull your feet away from Jake, making him sob as all the pleasure and attention he was receiving got taken away in an instant. He watches with jealous eyes as you cradle Heeseung's face in your hands before kissing his friend's pouty lips.

"Come here, Jakey."

If Jake's being honest, he doesn't know which is his favorite name to be called; Jake, or baby. In truth, the boy really doesn't mind which one you choose to use. He loves all of them. Each one elicits a different reaction from him, but ultimately, all of them make his stomach flutter.

So, he obeys you devotedly but enviously shoves Heeseung to the side, taking his place in front of you. Jake leans into you, quickly attaching his lips to yours in need. The essence of your vagina is on every inch of his tongue, lips, and it's spread across the whole validity of his lower face. When Jake puts his tongue shyly inside your mouth, you taste yourself, and you can't help but moan.

The boy has been eating you for minutes, and there hasn't been a single complaint thrown. You're even surprised his muscle hasn't strained, and that just proves to you how they've been on the wrong end of the spectrum their whole upbringing.

While Jake's lips stay glued to yours, your hands reach out for the other, fully knowing that he has a pout across his porcelain face for being pushed aside and neglected. You pull him towards you, and he gasps when his cock touches your wet mound. Feeling your slick walls hit a part of his dick, Heeseung can't help but beg for you to do something— anything, because at this point, his penis has been tense for so long, he feels like his testicles are about to implode.

You've touched Jake so much, pressed your feet against him, and he's watched you kiss the boy so much, yet all you've done to him is a quick makeout session and a pump on his dick at a languid pace. He wants to come, and he wants you to give it to him.

"P-Please, Miss. I can't take it anymore!"

Halting your kiss but not pulling away entirely, smirk against Jake's lips as you eye Heeseung, who's on your side.

"Yeah? What do you want, father?" You ask in a teasing manner, and Heeseung has to swallow the embarrassing groan in his throat upon hearing you call him that.

"My penis is hurting so much, Miss. Please do something." He says desperately before whining when he sees the way Jake is feeling your body up. "And why is he touching you like that?! I-I can do better!"

"You can?" You say with your eyebrows raised as you pull away from Jake, amused by his sudden outburst, that you can't help but chuckle.

"Yes, I-I can!"

You feel Jake scoff against your lips, and you only roll your eyes at their behavior, but there's a sense of underlying amusement for the situation at hand. You're not at all phased by their childish actions. You're actually quite impressed by how much of their personalities they're showing you. Both of them are extremely envious, and both seek attention from you constantly. You're not sure if this is how they act on a daily basis. The horniness is definitely not something ordinary, but you wonder if there's a hidden part of them that's tempted to sin. Jealousy is a dangerous thing, but it doesn't seem to be much of their concern.

"All right then." You announce, guiding Heeseung to sit on a leather-clad chair while the other stays standing behind you.

Heeseung tries to fight it in himself to squirm and whine as he watches you sit on his lap, back facing him. Your arousal drenched cunt slides along his whole cock, covering his whole length with your juices.

On the other hand, sitting on top of Heeseung's dick and lap lets you come face to face with Jake's hard dick. As you look up at him, you see him eyeing the small gap between the tip of his penis and your mouth, remembering the time a while ago when it was inside it. It was euphoric, and no pleasure could equal it. Seeing your mouth stuffed with his dick and you unable to speak as you mumble and hum across his whole length makes Jake's dick visibly twitch, afterwards leaking a thick streak of precum.

Your eyes follow the way it trickles down towards the underside of his dick, watching as it runs down and stains the pulsating veins against his length. Feeling your composure running thin and unable to hold yourself back, you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, and pressing it against the base of his cock. The tip of your wet muscle presses against his balls as you hold his dick up with one hand, and when you trail your tongue across the trail of precum it left up to his sensitive head, Jake lets out a loud moan in pleasure, his breathing already turning ragged.

"You ready, boys?" A sinister smirk forms across your lips as you ask him this, momentarily looking over your shoulder. When you and Heeseung make eye contact, the boy suddenly turns shy. Heeseung bites his lips cutely, his deer-like eyes looking up at you as per usual as he nods.

Right on cue, the church bells start ringing, signaling that the mass will soon begin. But your boys take no action to move, and somehow, this makes your chest start swelling with glee, making you feel very eager to have them inside you.

Although oblivious to the exact details of your question, Heeseung and Jake nodded nonetheless. You make quick work lining Heeseung's tip onto your salivating hole, and Heeseung's hands shakily grip your hips as he watches you sink down on his whole length in one go, his dick disappearing into your wet mound.

Unable to keep silent, Heeseung moans aloud and throws his head back when the pleasure hits him harder than a truck. Even though it's only his cock that's inside you, it feels as if his whole body is being sent into a flame, and automatically, he's getting hotter and sweatier. All he wants is for you to move, anticipating how much pleasure he'll receive, but you don't, and he's only left disappointed.

"Miss~" He whines drunkenly, his eyes closing as he pleads. "Please, move."

"My, my," You coo, body twisting so you can hook your arms across his shoulder momentarily. You lean your head close to him, bumping your nose against his pointed one as you ask him a question affectionately. "Getting impatient?"

"Yes." He answers with no hint of shyness at all.

Finding his desperation adorable, you coo, pulling Heeseung's face towards you, making your lips clash as you start moving your hips slowly on top of his dick. As a result, Heeseung starts to moan into your mouth; a gust of his breath goes inside your mouth, and you swallow it.

"Does that feel good?" You bite Heeseung's lip as the two of you kiss, and he whimpers into your mouth, gripping your hips tighter when he feels your insides clench around his dick. "I bet it does, doesn't it?"

Heeseung groans and hums against your mouth, the way his body lurches forward doing nothing but affirming you as it makes you press your back against his wide chest further.

While the two of you proceed to make out, Jake watches the two of you, and his mouth starts to salivate. His dick is uncontrollably moving in the air, jolting every so often when he zeroes in on the sight of Heeseung's slick coated dick being inserted in and out of your pussy. Jake can see the way it's shining with your juice, the light hitting just right for it to become visible.

Eventually, you look at Jake and watch with pity as he continues to watch in hunger while you fuck Heeseung. He isn't even making a move to touch himself like last time, just feeling too captivated by the way his friend's dick looks at the moment to care about satisfying his own body.

Continuing to move your hip at the same punishing pace, you pull away from the deer-like boy. For a moment, Heeseung chases your lips until it eventually goes far from his reach. He was about to start complaining before you take him by surprise by suddenly starting to circle your hips across his lap, and he suddenly throws his head back due to the new angle.

Wanting to give your other boy attention, you reach for Jake's thighs, wrapping them across the hard muscle before you pull him towards you. You pull him until his dick is pressed against your lips, planting a small kiss on his head before taking him inside your mouth.

Jake gasps once he feels your warm mouth around his aching length, his body stilling from surprise. His eyes are closed, but his mouth stays open as he releases a whimper, feeling your sharp nails dragging alongside his thighs, leaving more marks.

Just then, you make the move to bottom out on both holes. You sink yourself fully onto Heeseung's dick, both of your thighs pressing firmly against each other. As for Jake and your mouth, you press your palms across the plush skin of Jake's ass before pushing his hips into your mouth, making it so that your nose touches his happy trail and his dick hits against the back of your throat.

Both boys release a loud, satisfactory moan in unison, feeling their dicks hit the farthest they can inside both holes.

Though your gag reflex is completely non-existent and you're incapable of feeling that sensation, you gag fakely around Jake's dick, fully knowing that the vibrations caused by your throat wrapped around his dick and the contractions would give him complete bliss. At the same time, you grip his hips and start guiding him to thrust into your mouth, and with time, he soon gets the memo that you're telling him to fuck your face. Now, without the guidance of your hands, you take Jake's dick in your throat, completely pliant, as you leave him to thrust his hips desperately, ignoring the bruises it'll leave on the roof of your mouth after he's done with you.

"Mhm," He hums breathlessly while he watches your mouth stuffed with his cock. "'Looks so pretty right now with my penis inside your mouth, Miss."

Cute, he's still using the word penis when referring to the dick that's covered in your saliva.

Unable to talk, all you do is nod, his dick following your motions, and he throws his head back again and moans as per routine.

On the other hand, Heeseung's chest rises and falls as he leans breathlessly against the backrest. He watches the way his dick disappears when your ass and his pelvis collide, completing the action with a loud smack due to how hard you're going down on his lap. There's no stopping you, and believe me, Heeseung doesn't want you to ever stop either, because if something gets in the way of him finally achieving relief, he'll cry.

There's something about corrupting a virgin that drives you on—however, having two at once makes everything ten times more arousing: the idea of destroying someone's innocence to the point where reality becomes a blur to them. Both their thought processes are the same: God above everything, though you're sure that'll change soon enough. Now, they're desperate for sex. Their innocence mixed with the lust shining in their eyes is adorable, and you have no doubt that if you lose control now, you're going to cum first, and that has never happened before.

At one point, Jake's precum on your tongue gets too addictive, and you're left yearning for more. So, you work harder and try to perform better than you already were just to get more out of him.

Jake's hips halt when you take your mouth off of him and wrap both of your slender hands around the whole of his dick. You roll your palm against his head before gripping his dick a bit harder against your hand, sliding it down, and watching as the saliva that coats Jake's dick stretches and breaks with the distance. Your hand turns against his length as you push his hot head inside your puffy lips, providing Jake with the utmost amount of pleasure, absentmindedly slowing your motions against Heeseung's dick until they come to a full stop.

With your mind focused solely on his friend, Heeseung is desperate to continue his journey towards satisfaction. So, he experimentally thrusts his hips up into you, repeating the action when you moan against Jake's dick and shake your ass for him to continue.

As Heeseung continues his assault against your cunt, you continue to suck Jake off, your actions speeding up when you notice the clear signs of his peak pleasure surfacing; his breath becomes staggered, his whole body is tensed, and both his hands desperately pull on your hair, guiding you to move your lips against his dick. Jake's brows are knit together, and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, however, this does little to nothing when it comes to concealing his moaning pleas.

For a brief moment, you take his head out of your mouth. "You close, baby—" You ask, but the wind gets knocked out of your chest when he takes you by surprise, pulling your head to take all of his dick in one fast motion.

"Ah!" Jake hisses and his whole body quivers as shots of his hot cum paints your throat and mouth, hips stuttering as he thrusts into you to ride off his orgasm. A long, dragged out moan comes out of Jake's mouth, and you hum against his length, not minding the fact that he just cut you off nor the fact that you feel the roof of your tongue sting because of the bruises that he's left.

Just then, you hear the pastor in charge of leading the mass start preaching about the importance of maintaining one's innocence and how, as subjects of Christ, we must not falter and surrender to evil. The volume of his voice heightens, stressing each statement so as to convince the town folk, who are unaware of the events that are taking place within these holy grounds.

You gasp to catch some air when Jake's dick finally retracts from your mouth, looking up at him through your lashes and sticking your tongue out.

"W-Where did it…?" His question halts when he realizes that you've downed all his semen, afterwards whining at you, finding it incredibly hot.

Suddenly, you feel the boy behind you dig his nails deep into your hips, leaving crescent marks. You look over your shoulder to see Heeseung, who's desperately thrusting into you, trying to reach his own high. The pleading look on his face combined with the way you feel his large dick hit up until your belly button makes you lurch forward, almost falling down if it weren't for Jake, who dashingly catches you.

As he steadies you, Jake gets down on his knees and takes you aback. You groan afterwards when you see him dart his tongue to lick at your slit, Heeseung's dick still pounding into you. It all feels too good: Heeseung behind you hammering his dick up inside you, and Jake on his knees, pretty eyes closed as he savors your taste.

From time to time, Jake's tongue hits Heeseung's dick when the boy pulls his length out, and you feel your own high approaching like a storm. It's coming fast, and it's going to hit both you and Heeseung so hard. Your body is coiling, a hand tangled in Jake's raven hair, and he opens his eyes to show you those adorable irises while the other wraps around Heeseung's neck, dragging him close so you can look at both of them.

Pleadingly, Jake's eyes stay locked with yours, and it's as if both of the boys got the memo that your high is approaching without you announcing it. Their movements become rougher. The palm of Heeseung's hands plants itself on the chair and uses it as leverage to lift himself off. His other arm stays preoccupied, wrapping itself across your stomach to guide you up and down his dick while he jackhammers it inside you. You thank him by attaching your lips against his neck. Gratefully, you leave your mark, now claiming the two of them as your very own.

Jake wraps his plump lips all over your bud, his tongue harshly flicking against it, and it all makes your head spin, head retracting from Heeseung's neck to momentarily throw it back in pleasure. "The both of you are going to drive me insane."

It all hits you at once; Heeseung's cum painting your walls, Jake's pornographically loud moan, and your orgasm that knocks all the breath out of your lungs.

You've never came this hard before, and it's a whole new experience that you greedily want to have again. Amazingly, Heeseung doesn't stop thrusting into you just yet, and neither does Jake. They're both learning so fast, and it just shows more evidence to your theory that both boys were born into the wrong world. But there's no need to fret, you're here to save them and re-sort them, bring them yourself towards where they truly belong, with you.

By the time it finishes, you hear the loud echoes of the churchgoers' cheers and claps. You realize that the mass is over and that this whole scene happened within the span of an hour.

Heeseung pants as you gently lift yourself off to take his dick out of you, chuckling when you hear him hiss once his length leaves the warmth of your insides. "So cold. Wanna go back inside."

"Back off, Hyung. It's supposed to be my turn." Jake calls out, which makes both of your heads turn. Your brows raise in shock and amazement, realizing the reason for Jake's loud moan was because he jerked himself off and came on his hand.

When he sees your eyes fixate themselves on his abs and dick, both covered in his own lustful fluid, Jake's sulk falters. He grows shy, and his blush only grows even more feverish, his lips pouting as he shies away from your gaze.

As you stand up, you grab Jake's hand, guiding him down to sit next to Heeseung so he can rest. You hunch down, facing both of them as you cup their faces in the palms of your hands. They watch in a trance as your face consorts to one that portrays pure mischief, and a mix of adrenaline and excitement spreads across their chest. For some odd reason, there's no hint of fear anymore, only the greed to see what's yet to come. You guide both their heads to press against each other, blushy cheeks squeezing.

The both of them look up at you as you watch their naked bodies side by side, your mark of ownership shining dimly in purple light. "There's no need to rush. We have all the time we need in hell."

And surprisingly, neither of them is opposed to your idea.

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angelwonie · 2 years

Text

LIKE YOU || choi yeonjun

PAIRING: fuckboy!yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 16.4k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, college!au

SUMMARY: when your school’s infamous fuckboy, choi yeonjun, sets his eyes in you, he's determined in his mission to make you his. only the task turns out harder than he'd initially expected.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, overstimulation, slight corruption kink], consumption of alcohol, smoking, yeonjun is a menace and a flirt

Choi Yeonjun didn’t mean to fall in love with you.

Really, he didn’t. He didn’t plan on falling in love with anybody, actually. He just wasn’t the type of guy to chase after one girl, especially one who showed no initial interest in him.

Until you came along, that is.

—

“Gosh, did you really break up with her? And here I was, thinking this one would actually last longer than two weeks.”

Yeonjun only rolls his eyes in response to his friend’s nagging, his back resting against the cold stonewall of the school as his shoes sink into the soft grass surrounding them. It's the place he, Soobin and Taehyun go to complain about homework, classmates, or in his case, girls, and it was carefully chosen by them so as not to catch the attention of any annoyingly nosy teachers. It is also the place he usually brings girls to make out with – at least those he won’t even bother taking out on a date since they’re way too boring. Most people would be surprised to know just how many girls aren't worth knowing.

He sighs deeply, fidgeting a little with the hem of his ripped jeans before fetching a pack of cigarettes from the pocket. His eyes scan the area subconsciously, not searching for anyone in particular but looking for anything interesting to latch onto. “Oh, quit complaining, Soobin. Why do you care, anyway? It’s not like she was your girlfriend.”

‘Girlfriend’ is a bit too much of an exaggeration, even he has to admit – all that girl ever was to him was a quick fuck. Not that it matters. It doesn’t exactly occupy his thoughts whether she’s taking their ‘breakup’ well or not. He sighs, tearing his gaze away from the crowd as nothing – and nobody – catches his eye. Ignoring his friend’s judgemental stare, he lights a cigarette, bringing it to his lips and inhaling the calming aroma, before breathing out a cloud of smoke.

“No, but she seemed to like you a lot.” Soobin says, and Yeonjun lets out a snort of laughter, which earns him another death stare from his friend. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll run out of girls to hook up with?”

“I can always go to a bar and find some new ones. Seoul is full of girls, which makes it even more embarrassing that you’re incapable of finding yourself one.”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like you’ve ever had a proper relationship, either. I’d say that’s even more embarrassing.”

“How is it embarrassing? I’m living the dream, man, admit it.” And as if to prove his point, he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into his friend’s frowning face.

And then he looks at the crowd of students again, totally uninterested as always. At least until his eyes land on your frame and he’s suddenly feeling more interested than he’s ever felt before. Because, holy fuck, who is that girl and why has he never seen her before? For a moment, he’s just staring at you, eyes running over all your features as if not to forget any of them, mind racing with the thought that you might just be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. And then you disappear into the crowd again and all that’s left is his burning determination to make you his.

“Who was that girl?” He asks his friend, finger pointing in the direction of where you were standing just a moment ago.

Thankfully, Soobin seems to have seen you, too. “Huh? Oh, her? That’s Y/N.”

“You know her?”

Raising a brow, he responds skeptically. “Yeah, why? She’s the class president in my class.”

Oh, wow. Class president. He's never been with a class president – mostly because all of their school talk was impossible to endure – but that shouldn't be much of a problem. You are still a girl, after all, and girls are his specialty.

It only takes a few more questions directed at a not-so-happy Soobin to find out that you work as an assistant at the school library during breaks, and so Yeonjun has found his destination. He's so quick to run into the school that it's not before he's spent five minutes looking for the library that he realizes he has no idea where it is. Groaning in frustration, he asks one of the bypassers to show him the way, but it takes another three minutes for the girl to stop blushing and giggling, which makes Yeonjun question whether it's worth it to even go there.

But then he's reminded of how pretty you looked from a distance, and he knows he has to see you up close. So he lets the girl bring him to the library, and he's quick to realize that this might just be his least favorite place in the whole school. The room is filled with nothing but shelves of books and the girls who are sitting by the tables are nowhere near as pretty as he'd like. And they're also not even paying him a glance – something he finds a little weird. Now he just hopes you're good with your mouth, so that his time doesn't go to waste.

“Do you need help with anything?”

He hears from behind him and yes, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him earlier – you're even prettier up close. Of course you'd come up to him first – he'd doubted your ability to take initiative since you are a class president, but it seems that he'd overestimated people's capability of resisting his good looks. You are just making his task so much easier.

“Not really, no,” He grins widely, running his ring-clad fingers through his hair. “Just wanted to ask you if you’re free this weekend.”

He watches as you scrunch up your nose in confusion – it’s kind of cute – and awaits your answer with the grin never leaving his face. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s asking people out. Though the fact that he’s had a 100% success rate all his life probably helps with the confidence. You sigh a little and it brings him to reality, making him realize that you’re taking a little too much time thinking and too little time agreeing to go out with him.

“Sorry,” You say finally, gaze so uninterested that it kind of reminds him of his. “I’m not interested.”

And just like that, you walk away from him. Totally unfazed, too, like you didn’t just reject Choi fucking Yeonjun. It makes him furious. But for some unknown reason, it also makes him interested. And when Choi Yeonjun is interested in someone… Well, he’s not going to give up that easily.

—

“What do you mean Choi Yeonjun asked you out?” One of your friends exclaims as you sit in the cafeteria, your hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth so that nobody hears what you’re talking about.

“Would you quiet down a little?” You hiss in her direction, removing your hand when she rolls her eyes. “I mean, he asked me out. When I was in the library. Just appeared out of nowhere, asking me if I have plans for the weekend.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! What did you say?”

“No, obviously. Why would I wanna-”

“What do you mean you said no?!” There it is again – a high pitched squeak and a facial expression of someone who was just deeply offended. And knowing your friend, she probably is. “Are you fucking insane? Why wouldn’t you want to go out with the Choi Yeonjun? Literally every girl at this school would kill to get asked out by him.”

“I wouldn’t,” You say, going back to your food. “He hooks up with every other girl he sees and smokes cigarettes. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Sure, you don’t,” You hear your friend scoff in annoyance, but this time you choose to ignore her. It’s not like you could ever convince her to stop admiring the guy, so why waste your oxygen trying? Honestly, it’s all getting on your nerves – how everyone seems to adore him. Girls want to date him and boys want to be him. You’ve never quite understood why.

Not that it matters – now that you’ve told him off there’s no way he wants anything to do with you. Right?

Wrong.

You realize just how much you’re mistaken already the next day as you’re hurrying to class, four textbooks huddled in your arms as you push your way through the crowd. It's 9:21 and your class started six minutes earlier, leaving you with no choice but to pay no attention to your surroundings and focus on getting to the classroom. Which turns out to be a very bad idea the moment you run straight into something – no, someone – and drop all your books on the floor. Not to mention that it feels like you just broke your nose.

“Ow,” You mutter under your breath, and you hear a low chuckle that makes you look up at the person you just ran into. And, holy shit, there's just no way someone can be this unlucky.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, sweetheart?”

You furrow your brows at the one and only Choi Yeonjun, who's standing in front of you with his hands buried in his pockets and an annoyingly attractive smirk on his face as he eyes you up and down. Did he just call you sweetheart? You suppose he did. Not that you feel special or anything – he probably calls every girl that.

Just like he probably picks up every girl's books when she drops them – which is what he's doing right now as you still try to recover from the shock of seeing him again after such a short time. You don't even get to protest as he kneels down, before picking them up and handing them to you with his cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. It should be a repulsive sight, but it's actually ridiculously attractive on him.

“To class? Where else would I be going?” And before he gets to reply, you're already pushing past him to leave the conversation. But after barely two steps you feel his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to look at him again. “What are you doing? I need to go.”

“Come on, it won't kill your teacher to wait another five minutes,” He tilts his head to the side, studying your face so intensely that you're afraid he'll see the way you're not as calm as you appear to be. “Don’t you wanna go outside and take a cigarette with me?”

“I don't smoke,” You say. “Especially not with people like you.”

For a moment, you're scared he'll get mad at you for saying that, because his smirk drops and his eyes grow darker – as if what you said hit him a little too hard. But it's most probably just your imagination playing tricks on you, because in the blink of an eye he's smirking again, this time with a hint of amusement in his gaze.

“People like me? What's that supposed to mean?”

Um, I don't know, fuckboys who change girlfriends every week and don't give a shit about other people's feelings, maybe? But you don't say that out loud. Instead you shake his hand off of your shoulder and ignore the feeling that something's missing when you no longer feel his touch.

“I have to get to class.”

And just like that, you walk away from him for the second time. Only this time, he's not the only one with this strange encounter on his mind.

—

You've only met him twice, and both times you spoke with him only briefly, but that doesn't change the fact that Choi Yeonjun is the one occupying your mind for the next couple of days. What's even worse is that you're not sure just why you're thinking about him – whether it's because you've had enough of him, or the total opposite. But since you're a rational person, you settle with the first one: that you're simply thinking about him because you don't want to see him ever again.

That is actually something you've managed to do for the last few days – you haven't even seen him in the hallway. Which is refreshing, because it means you're back to normal, being the class president who can focus on school and not some annoying troublemaker. You've purged all thoughts of Yeonjun that were left in your head by the time you're in the cafeteria, hungry as hell. Saying a quick goodbye to your friends, you head over to one of the vending machines in order to buy yourself an iced coffee – you deserve it after all the schoolwork you've done today, that's for sure.

When you've chosen your drink, you press your card against the sensor and wait for it to withdraw the money, but after a few seconds a message saying 'card rejected' pops up on the screen. You sigh softly, trying again.

“What the fuck?” You mumble to yourself as your card gets rejected by the paying machine once again.

“You sure you have enough money on that card, kitten?”

You jump slightly at the sound of a voice barely two centimeters from your ear. Your hand instinctively comes up in order to cover your mouth to muffle your gasp as you turn around only to be met with a pair of deep brown eyes, belonging to none other than Choi Yeonjun himself. He only laughs at your reaction, letting one of his hands rest on your shoulder as he leans over the vending machine with his card between his fingers.

“What are you doing?” You finally ask as he hands you your card, pressing his against the machine instead.

“What do you mean?” He fetches the drink from the vending machine and holds it out in front of you, urging you to take it.

“I mean, what do you think you're doing?”

“I’m paying for your coffee, that's what I'm doing,” He says it like it's the normal thing to do, but you both know this isn't how he usually acts. And it freaks you out, knowing that he's acting nicer than usual. Because what the fuck does he want? “Now would you please take this from my hands? It's a little rude not to thank me when I'm being so generous, don't you think?”

So you grab the drink, eyeing him cautiously as he walks over to the nearest table before plumping down on one of the cheap chairs. He looks so out of place here, with his dark hair and silver rings adorning his long fingers that have already fetched his phone from his pocket. You don’t recall ever seeing him here, actually – you’ve heard from your fanatic friends that he always eats lunch at the cafe close by the school. You’re not sure why – maybe because he feels too cool to eat in the school cafeteria or maybe he wants to avoid all the giggling girls that are looking at him with eyes full of adoration. Whatever the reason, he never eats here.

And yet he’s sitting right there, scrolling through his phone with no apparent wish to get out of the cafeteria anytime soon.

“Are you just gonna stand there or what?”

“Huh?” His words bring you back to reality and you realize you’ve just been standing a meter away from the table with your coffee clutched in your hand this entire time. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d looked up from his phone, that annoying smirk plastered back onto his features as he speaks.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?” Seeing your expression, he chuckles softly, and for some reason you don’t find his laugh that annoying – it's quite pretty actually. Has a nice ring to it. Not that you care what his laugh sounds like, of course. “What, you don’t drink coffee with people like me, either?”

You don’t respond, instead opting for sitting down by the table, across from him. You’re not sure what possessed you to do that – whether it was the embarrassment from earlier or the way that Yeonjun’s burning gaze is too much to handle while standing up – but you don’t miss the jealous stares from the nearby-seated girls, reminding you that there’s literally no reason for you to be talking with Choi Yeonjun right now. Or ever, for that matter.

“Give me your number,” He says once you’ve taken a sip of your drink, making you almost choke on it.

With a bewildered expression, you look at him and the phone he’s shoving in your direction. The ‘create a new contact’ function is open and it’s obvious he wants you to write your number there. For a moment, you’re about to do it, the way that he said it with so much confidence somehow making you weak in the knees even when sitting down. Now you can understand how he can pull every girl he wants. But then you’re able to think clearly again, and you realize that phone probably contains the numbers of tens of girls whom he’d hooked up with.

And you know for a fact that you’re not about to become the next checked-off item on his list.

“Why would I give you my number?” You say to him, pushing the phone away from you on the table.

He raises an eyebrow in amusement, smiling a little wider at your response and it makes you groan internally. Why must he be so hard to upset? “God, you’re really stubborn, huh?”

It annoys you that his voice holds an amused tone, and it annoys you that he finds your attempts at rejecting him funny. Shouldn’t someone like him – someone who isn't used to being pushed away by anyone – be much easier to discourage? Why is he so fucking persistent? Why is he ignoring your uninviting demeanor, when he could be chasing after any other girl – a girl who’d have no problem falling to her knees for him in the span of two seconds. But you suppose it’s partly your own fault since you’re not making any particular effort at leaving the scene.

“You don’t know anything about me.” You hope your voice sounds as confident as it did in your head when you let those words leave your mouth.

“Well, I want to get to know you.”

“No, you don’t,” You scoff, letting your eyes meet his this time. “You want to get in my pants.”

“What’s the difference?”

Even though you kind of expected that kind of response from a well-known fuckboy, it still makes your mouth fall open. “Are you serious right now?”

“No.” His lips spread in a smile as he rests his chin on his hand, eyes glistening with amusement as he observes the change of your facial expressions. “But I bet you thought I was.”

He’s absolutely right and it makes you feel exposed in a way. Like you’ve been thinking there’s no personality to him, and now he’s proving you wrong. That’s what he’s acting like, anyway. Like him knowing the difference between getting to know someone and wanting to sleep with them makes him any less of an asshole. If anything, it’s the opposite – it means he deliberately chooses to play with people’s feelings, and since you know he’s good at it, the best choice would be to leave now, before his demeanor somehow grabs your attention and interest.

“You don’t know very much about me either, do you, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches a little as his hand accidentally brushes against yours when he puts it on the table, and you’re quick to pull it back to you and rest it in your lap instead. His eyes won’t leave you alone as he yet again pushes his phone towards you, further proving your theory that the man just won’t take a hint. “I’m throwing a party this Saturday. You should come. I’ll text you the address, so give me your number.”

“Can’t you just tell me?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “Besides, what makes you think I wanna come to your party?”

“I think,” He leans a little forward, and you try to slow down your heart that’s started banging against your chest a little too loudly. “You like being around me a little more than you let on. And I think that you want to get to know me, too. So this is your chance. And if I can’t convince you to give me a chance by then, I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

“So you need to be at a party to show me that you’re worth knowing?” You taunt, again a little disappointed when you see that all your words cause is a short laugh. “But fine, I’ll come.”

You’re not sure what got into you, but the moment you say that, you realize the thought of coming to his party is making you excited. And even though you know it’s foul, the vision of showing all those shallow girls that you’re the one he spent time hitting on, that you’re the one he put in effort for, is tempting. You don’t want to be another girl he throws away when he’s done with, but you also can’t help the way his perseverance is slowly, but surely pushing down the walls you’ve put up around yourself.

“Perfect.” And it feels like a crime to have butterflies swarm in your stomach as he sends you a smile – one that feels so genuine that you almost forget he’s nothing but a player. Almost.

—

It goes without saying that your friends were thrilled to hear that you, out of all people, are invited to Choi Yeonjun’s party, and their excitement went over the roof the moment you told them you’re bringing them along. Now, bringing your Choi Yeonjun-obsessed besties to his party might not be the brightest idea, but at this point it’s your only option, since there’s no way you’re going alone.

Why? Partly because you’re straight up terrified of parties, but mostly because bringing your friends along is a good opportunity to discourage Yeonjun from further pursuing his determination to get in your pants. There’s no way a guy who only wants sex will care enough to put up with your crazy friends and your aversion to partying. At least you hope so. Lately, Yeonjun has been proving every assumption you’ve ever had about him wrong.

Nevertheless, you’re sure he won’t prove this one wrong. Because he is still a fuckboy, after all, and fuckboys are only interested in one thing – getting their dicks wet. So when he doesn’t get that from you, he’ll leave your life and so will this strange sense of attraction you feel every time he speaks to you.

“Are we at the right place?” You ask your friends as all three of you stand in front of the house that Yeonjun told you the party would be at.

“Are you stupid or what? Of course we are, don’t you see the people passed out on the lawn?”

Of course, you do. It’s not like you’re blind. Just nervous. Really fucking nervous. For a moment, you question whether you should just go back to your dorm and read a book like you normally would on a Saturday night, but unfortunately, you doubt you could’ve focused on the words knowing that somewhere out there, Yeonjun is waiting for you to show up at his door. Maybe even thinking of you, of getting to know you. No, Y/N, he doesn’t want to get to know you, you mentally scold yourself. He wants to fuck you. So get yourself out of this ditch before you fall in too deep.

“Right. I’ll knock then.” Your friend looks at you expectantly and you clear your throat before ringing the doorbell with shaky fingers. Fuck. What are you so stressed about?

Much to your poor heart’s dismay, the one opening the door for you is Choi Yeonjun himself. He’s looking even more annoyingly handsome than he usually does, with a silver chain around his neck and his shirt half unbuttoned, the sleeves of it rolled up to reveal his forearms. And god, is he a sight to see. It makes you understand the girls who swarm around him at all times. Especially when he leans on the doorway, licking his lips in a seemingly innocent manner that unintentionally makes your heart beat faster, before inviting you inside with his signature smirk planted to his face.

“Y/N,” He says and the way your name rolls off of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. It’s the first time you’ve heard him say it, and it makes you grateful he’s never called you by your name at school because the subtle warmth laced in his voice is very distracting. “And friends, I suppose.”

Oh, right. Your friends. Who you brought here to annoy the guy whose voice you just internally drooled over. In your head, you thank Yeonjun for the reminder as to why you're really here – because it's surely not to shamelessly stare at his veiny hand that is wrapped around a plastic cup.

“Oh, yeah, these are my friends,” You say, pointing to the two girls that are practically drooling as they look at Yeonjun. But you suppose you're not allowed to judge them anymore, not after basically doing the same thing. To your defense, every girl would look if Choi Yeonjun stood in front of her like that. Or at least you hope that this isn’t a sign of you getting too attached.

“Wow, Yeonjun, you look much more handsome in real life than on instagram,” One of your friends gushes as he opens the door wider, allowing all three of you to enter the packed house. The moment you step inside, you’re hit with the strong smell of alcohol and sweat, as well as loud music that you can already sense is about to give you a headache. “You wouldn’t mind giving me your number, right?”

The moment those words leave her mouth, you’re whipping your head around to look at her half-surprised, half-mad. Why, you’re not sure, but the thought of her hitting on him makes something twist in your stomach unpleasantly. The death stare you send her doesn’t seem to have any impact, but Yeonjun’s words do as he drapes his arm over your shoulders before sending you – not your friend, you – a teeth-flashing grin. “Yeah, no, sorry, I’m kinda busy right now. Talk to you later, uh, whatever your name is.”

And just like that, he walks further into the crowd, pulling you with him, and you’re too shocked by the whole situation to even react, only managing to look back at your friends for a mere second. But, for some reason, their shocked faces don’t even make you feel that bad about walking away, partly because they pissed you off, but also because Yeonjun’s arm fits strangely perfectly around your shoulder, and his fingers grazing the exposed skin on your arm bother you way less than they should. Even the girls sending you ugly stares manage to be somehow drowned down by his light, but heart-stirring touch as he leads you to the kitchen, before finally letting you go.

“If you brought me here to seduce me, don’t hold your breath,” You tell him as he walks over to the counter, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I didn’t come here for that.”

There's a small smirk on his face as he looks up at you. “Then what did you come for?”

“You forced me to, remember? I came so that you'll finally accept your defeat and leave me alone.”

A chuckle leaves his lips as you watch him open the bottle, realizing that there's actually nobody except the two of you in the kitchen. The walls provide a good exclusion of the loud music, and there's some kind of peace to the atmosphere. It's the first time you're alone with Yeonjun in a room, but it doesn't stress you out at all – actually, it’s calming.

“You know, that’s what I like about you,” He smiles, pouring the alcohol as if he didn’t just say something that makes your heart drop to your stomach for just a second. “That you always say what you mean. No matter what, you do what you want to do and say what you want to say. It takes a lot of courage to do that, you know.”

You scoff at his words, sitting down on the floor with your back pressed up against the counter. “Just how drunk are you? You’re talking nonsense. Everyone says what they wanna say and does what they wanna do.”

“Really?” He cocks an eyebrow, before sitting down next to you and handing you your drink. For just a short moment, your fingers graze his skin as you're taking the glass from his hands, and goosebumps spread across your whole body from the contact. But then he lets go, and the sensation disappears, leaving you feeling somewhat empty. “I don’t.”

You furrow your eyebrows, taking a sip of your drink and instantly frowning afterwards, the strong taste burning your throat. He laughs at your reaction – not in the cocky way, but warmly, like he genuinely finds you amusing, but his smile fades when you speak. “What are you talking about?”

“I don't even know,” He sighs, lighting one of his cigarettes as he leans his head back and inhales the smoke, and it feels like an eternity before he speaks again. “Sometimes I just feel like I don't even know who I am anymore.”

He doesn't even expect you to react in any way. Why should you? He's been all but bothering you the last few days, doing absolutely nothing that would prove wrong your assumptions about what kind of a person he is. And yet he's telling you things – things he's never told anyone before, things he thought he'd never say. Part of him hopes you just won't say anything, that you'll leave and forget he ever brought this up, but at the same time, he wants you to listen, because it's his chance to prove to you that he's something more than just the facade he's been putting up around himself.

But you don't owe him that. You don't owe him anything, especially not listening to his problems. He doesn't owe you an explanation, either, though, so maybe he should be the one to stand up and leave the scene. Or maybe he does owe you an explanation, after all, for spending so much time with you even though everybody knows he doesn't like wasting his time. You're probably left wondering what the hell he wants with you, and frankly, so is he.

He's almost set on leaving, but then he hears your voice laced with concern, and when he whips his head around to look you in the eyes, he sees it's paired with an expression of genuine interest in your features, and he knows that even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to leave now.

“In what way?” You're asking him, tilting your head a little to the side. “I thought you would be the person to know exactly who you are and what you want.”

“Well, I did tell you you don't know much about me, didn't I?” He grins, but seeing your awaiting face, he stops. You're really serious about this, and it makes him question whether he should have said anything at all. “Besides, there's not much to say. I created the problem myself when I decided to become the kind of person people like you stay away from. It's not like I can blame people for seeing me as just an asshole if that's all there's ever been to me.”

“Is it, though?” You ask, eyeing him cautiously as he places the cigarette between his lips again. “Is that all there is to you?”

It takes him a while to respond, his mind stirring with thoughts as he wonders, what else is there to him? He's promised to show you that he's worth knowing, but now that he's to prove it, he has no idea what to say. That's a first. It's also a first that he doesn't feel like he's wasting his time getting to know a girl – actually, he can't get enough of the way you're observing him as if you really care.

“No. I don't think it is.” He says finally. “Because there are still things I want to do. There are still pictures I'd like to take, songs I'd like to play and places I'd like to go. And there are people I'd like to know.”

“Like who?” Your question is genuine, he realizes, and it makes him laugh, because still, you somehow haven't put the pieces together. Class president, yet you can't seem to understand he's flirting with you.

“You.” And it's no secret that he enjoys – a little too much, maybe – watching how your caring expression turns into one half-annoyed, half-flustered. He thinks you're adorable, scoffing to hide the way his words have an impact on you. Or at least he hopes they do.

“Why are you telling me all this, out of all the people you could've chosen to say it to?”

“I don't know, honestly,” He sighs, throwing his cigarette away. “You’re the only one who’d care, I suppose.”

You can't help but giggle, probably influenced by the alcohol. “The only person who'd care is the one who told you to fuck off the first time you met her?”

“Yeah, I know, it's fucking ironic.” He laughs, too.

And for some unidentified reason, you realize you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else at this moment, than here, in the kitchen at a party, next to the biggest fuckboy of them all, Choi Yeonjun. If anyone had told you three weeks earlier that you'd grow to enjoy talking to a guy like him, you wouldn't have believed them, but it's true that the smile plastered onto your face is genuine. And silently, you hope Yeonjun’s is, too. It's a stupid thing to hope for, you know that. Especially since he’s known for breaking hearts. But pretending to not give a fuck would be just as stupid at this point.

Suddenly, interrupting this peaceful moment, a load of drunk teenagers barge into the kitchen, each one shouting louder than the other. You frown as the loud music from the other room hits your ears, and curse them silently for ruining what was a very enjoyable interaction.

You're just about to stand up and leave as you feel the warmth of Yeonjun’s hand as he laces his fingers through yours like it's the easiest thing in the world, before leaning to the side to whisper in your ear. His lips just barely craze the shell of your ear, and you feel a little lightheaded, though you're not sure whether that's from the alcohol or being able to feel his breath tickling your skin as he speaks.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

And there it is. The words that bring you to reality, that remind you that Choi Yeonjun is, after all, your school's well-known fuckboy who just wants you in his bed. And though you already knew that, it hurts a little stronger because for a moment you felt like there was something more to him than that.

“And go to your bedroom? No, thank you,” You’re quick to pull away from him, but your hands remain interlaced because his grip is too tight to escape instantly. His brows furrow at your words, but he lets go of your hand when he sees you struggling to get out of his grip.

“You should chill out a little, kitten,” His mildly annoyed tone catches you off guard – you’ve never thrown him off before. Is this the moment he stops talking to you entirely because you didn’t let him get what he wants? “I actually wanted to take you home. It’s getting late and you don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.”

Oh. Oh. He wants to take you home. Choi Yeonjun wants to take you home. Now you most definitely feel like an idiot. You’re so shocked – and humiliated – that you can’t even say anything, so instead, you just follow him through the crowd as turns around to leave, heading towards the exit. Sensing he’s somewhat upset, you stay quiet, but you truly regret not holding his hand as you push through all the dancing people. You shouldn’t be thinking like that, you’re aware, but it bothers you that you judged him like that. Even though he deserves to be judged, he’s a player. And an asshole. And you don’t even want to get to know him. You don’t care what he thinks of you. Right?

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Wrong. You do care. You hope he doesn’t hear it in your voice, but it’s pretty much obvious from the way all arrogance is wiped from your face and you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes as he pushes one of the curtains away to look out the window. For the brief moment that his gaze isn’t on you, you allow yourself to admire him – his hand that brings his drink to his lips, his dark eyes in which you can see the luminescence radiating off of the moon from outside. And you realize you don’t want to part from him just yet.

“No,” He says finally, letting go of the curtain and looking you straight in the eyes. This time, his gaze has softened and although you’re not sure exactly how you acquired this information, you know he’s sincere. “I’ll walk you home, it's dark outside already.”

He’ll walk you home? Part of you is curious as to why – you’ve heard from your friend that he’s always the last one to leave parties, especially those he throws himself. But another part of you, a bigger part, is feeling euphoric about spending more time with him, so you don’t really question him. You’ve done enough of that for one day. Waiting for Yeonjun to put on his jacket, you open the door, only to be met with a gush of cold wind and the sound of raindrops hitting the pavement outside. It’s fucking pouring.

“Fuck,” You mutter under your breath, catching Yeonjun’s attention.

“Wow, miss class president, you should watch your language. You’re setting a bad example.”

“Yeah, whatever,” You say with a smile. “It’s raining.”

You watch as he opens a closet, searching for something for a few seconds before he reaches you an umbrella. Opening it, you realize it’s decently big and will work great in stopping you from getting wet. But as Yeonjun closes the closet without taking out a second umbrella, you raise your brow at him questioningly. “What about you?”

“There’s only one. And you'd think a rich family like Taehyun’s would have more umbrellas.”

You hand him the umbrella as he walks over to you, figuring that it’ll work better if he’s the one to hold it since he’s taller. He doesn’t even care enough to bid his goodbyes, which surprises you a little – it’s his party after all – but after all you’ve witnessed today you conclude that you do, in fact, not know much about Choi Yeonjun, so there’s no point in assuming anything. Besides, a small part of you is hoping that he forgot to say goodbye because he was too caught up in you. Minimal chance that it applies, but still. Let a girl dream, right?

The two of you walk outside together, his arm bumping into yours as both of you try to fit under the umbrella. The weather is truly horrible, but luckily – or not, you’re not sure – the way home isn’t very long. You shiver a little as the cold breeze reaches your skin, regretting that you didn’t bring a warmer jacket. Oh well, it could've been worse. You could’ve been stuck in this weather alone, with no umbrella at all.

“Are you cold?”

“What?” You look at him, a little confused.

“You’re shivering,” He points out, handing you the umbrella and sliding his jacket off of his shoulders before you can protest. “Here, take this. I’m hot anyway.”

You take the jacket from his hands, and he waits with the umbrella directly over your head as you put it on. Starting to walk again, you can't help but inhale the smell that hits your nose when you bury your face in the fabric. It smells mostly like Yeonjun’s cologne – the expensive one that you felt for the first time when he picked up your books for you in the hallway, but underneath that there's also a scent that can't be anything but him. Is this what his skin smells like? If so, you're not sure you ever want to give this jacket back to him.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” He shrugs, but you partly hope it isn't actually nothing to him. Because it's definitely something to you.

You both stay silent for a while, and it's a little weird seeing him so quiet, but you savor the moment nevertheless. At this point, it's evident that your original plan has failed – because if there's anything you haven't done tonight, it's getting rid of the connection that seems to be forming between you and Yeonjun. Truly, though, you can't bring yourself to think about that now. Rather, you turn your head to him and for a split second, you're taken aback by how close your face is to his when he turns to look at you, too.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize that he only turned to look at you because he felt your gaze on him, not because he can read your thoughts or anything.

“By the way,” You say to him. “You said something about Taehyun’s family being rich, yet not having enough umbrellas. But I thought we were at your house.”

“My house?” He laughs a little, as if the idea throws him off. “Nah, I don't really invite people over there. It's messy and small, and Taehyun’s house works much better.”

“You’d think fuckboys would have plenty of people to invite over.”

“Never said I don't have anyone to invite over. It's just that most people I know aren't worth inviting over.”

“Oh,” You say. What's that supposed to mean? Does he mean that you, too, aren't worth inviting over or what? You almost regret that he's proven not to be the person you'd expected him to be, because if he fit into that little bison you had of him, it would've been much easier to read him. “Well, someone you know must be worth inviting over, right?”

You hope to god that he doesn't hear the longing in your voice, but from the way the corners of his lips lift up in a smirk and he places his hand on your shoulder to stop you from walking any further, you can tell your prayers haven't been heard. Not even giving you a chance to defend yourself, he's turning his body towards you, pulling you closer by your shoulder. When he leans down, his face is so close to yours that you fear he can hear your heart that is on its way to beat out of your chest.

“Well, I suppose someone is.” He purrs, bringing one of his hands to pick up the strand of hair that's stuck itself on your skin and tuck it behind your ear. “You know that if you want to spend time with me, you can just ask, right, kitten?”

If his goal is to make you have a heart attack, then he's on the right track for sure, because you're feeling extremely dizzy now that his eyes are focused solely on you and his hand is resting against the skin on your neck. You wonder how he's able to keep his cool – this is probably nothing new for him, but still, it's like you're breathing the same air. That must surely have some kind of impact on him, right? But even if it does, he doesn't show it, because the smirk on his face doesn't fade – if anything, it grows wider at your flustered state.

“That’s not what I-”

“It’s time for us to move past the lying stage, don't you think?” He runs one of his fingers over the skin right below your jaw, and it takes every bit of willpower inside of you not to lean into his touch. “It’s getting a little old.”

One of his rings comes in contact with your flesh and it makes you shiver – something you could've probably covered up by saying it's from the cold, but something tells you that there's no point in lying to him. Part of you wants to break the tension and pretend like nothing happened at all, but you're way too caught up in him to look away. Your eyes move from his eyes to his mouth and back again, and you wonder if his lips have always looked this kissable.

For a split second, you think he's thinking the same thing; with the way he's licking his lower lip, inching a little closer to you it seems like he's about to break the distance between you. And in that moment, you realize that you'd let him. If he were to kiss you right now, you wouldn't even have thought of pushing him away. Actually, you realize, you really want him to kiss you right now. You really, really do. But then his phone starts vibrating in his pocket, and slowly, but surely, the breathtaking moment is coming to an end as he stands up straight again, his eyes now glistening with annoyance rather than desire.

“Shit, it's Soobin,” He mutters, removing his hand from where it was resting against your skin, leaving you feeling somewhat empty. “I need to pick up.”

He doesn't walk away since it's still raining like crazy, but he turns a little away from you as he talks to his friend. You could've probably listened in on their conversation, but you're not very interested in it, and honestly, what occupies your mind more is the occurrence that took place just a moment ago. What the fuck just happened? Was Choi fucking Yeonjun just about to kiss you, or was it just your imagination playing tricks on you? Either way, you're both frustrated and relieved that this situation came to an end.

You're drunk. You can't think straight. That's why you let him tuck your hair behind your ear and look at you as if you were the only girl in the world. That's why your heart fluttered when he smiled down at you – that goddamn smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. But if that's the only reason, then why is your heart still beating quickly even though he's not touching you? And why do you feel more sober than you've felt your whole life?

“Hey, miss president,” He says, catching your attention. You look up at him, and you're surprised to see his classic smirk missing from his features, replaced by a frown. “I need to go back to the party. Soobin says they're planning to jump on the glass table or some shit, and trust me, Taehyun will kill me if something happens to his parents' furniture.”

“Oh,” You say. “Alright then, I’ll just take the bus, since the station is right here.”

You're lucky, that's for sure, because the bus station is merely twenty meters or so away from where you and Yeonjun are standing. You'll still have to walk in the rain for a while to get home after taking the bus, but you don't mention that, since Yeonjun looks annoyed enough as it is. As to why that is, you’re not sure, but you partially hope that it's because he's reluctant to leave you. Because you’re personally very hesitant to say goodbye.

“Yeah, do that,” He says. “And text me when you get home, just so I know if I have to find myself a new girl to annoy. And make sure I won’t have to, because finding girls worth inviting over is very difficult these days.”

And before you can even respond or fully register what he just said, he winks at you and starts walking away, leaving you alone to sort out the chaos in your head. First of all, Choi Yeonjun just asked you to text him when you get home. Which means, that to some extent, he must genuinely care for you. Secondly, he indirectly said you’re worth inviting over. Even though he doesn’t normally invite anyone over to his house. Which might – just might – mean that you’re more special to him than those other girls. And thirdly, he just winked and left. Without his umbrella or jacket.

“Yeonjun, wait!” You shout before you’re able to stop yourself. Fortunately for you, he’s close enough to catch your voice and he turns back, walking over to you again. His black hair is completely wet now, and so is his white shirt that has now become useless because it’s sticking to his skin, outlining his abs and biceps very well. Too well, actually, because you catch your eyes flicking down to stare at them even as you talk to him. “What about the umbrella?”

A smile spreads itself on his face and you’re this close to having your knees buckle at how gorgeous he looks in that moment. You'd never tell him that – it’d only heighten his already inflated ego, but you’d be an idiot not to admit it to yourself, at least. Your mind can barely register what he says when he answers your question. “Keep it. I’ll just run.”

“But-”

“Just keep it, I said. Or you might catch a cold,” Goosebumps spread themselves across your skin like fire, and you know it’s not from the wind. The way he’s looking at you doesn't help either, with his warm eyes staring into yours so fondly, that if you didn't know any better you’d say he was infatuated. “Besides, I’m sure you'd like to have something that reminds you of me in your room, right, sweetheart?”

“As if,” You say, but your voice sounds too weak to convince him that you actually mean it. “Go, then. Before they completely wreck the house.”

“Bye, Y/N, I had fun today,” He says, a little bit louder than normal so you’ll hear him over the rain, and you can see a hint of something you wouldn’t consider anything but pure bliss in his eyes. “Oh, and keep the jacket, too. It looks much better on you, anyway.”

With those words, he walks away quickly and you stand looking after him until he’s completely out of your sight. Only when you’re entirely certain you can’t catch a glimpse of his white shirt somewhere in the distance do you start moving towards the bus station, thinking to yourself that this night did not go as planned. Not at all. But it doesn’t really matter, because for the first time in a long time you feel like you don't want to spend the next day alone.

That maybe, just maybe, you want to spend it with Choi Yeonjun.

—

You've heard multiple times that rumors spread faster than wildfire at your school, but you've never really paid it any thought – you were never involved in said rumors, anyway. Until now, it seems like, because the moment you enter the school on Monday morning, everyone's eyes are on you. Most of them don't even try to hide that their conversations are about you, some even point their fingers in your direction as you enter the hallway.

At first, you're all but confused. Do you look weird or something? Why have they all taken a sudden interest in you? But then, as you walk by a group of frowning girls, you overhear the words ‘Yeonjun’ and ‘his new girl’, and immediately, you know what this is all about. Hanging out with the school’s most popular boy has some downsides as well, and this is one of them. Everyone knows, after yesterday's party, probably, that you're the girl who piqued Choi Yeonjun’s interest, and since you so sensibly chose to wear the jacket he borrowed you to school today, you've gotten rid of everyone's doubts.

But it's fine – the girls at your school have a talent for finding new things to gossip about very fast, so you don't doubt that by the time you're back from chemistry class, they'll be over it.

Class goes smoothly as always, you take some notes and pay no attention to the few girls that whisper to each other about you, because you're sure that rumor will die down soon. Besides, it's hard to feel uneasy when the first thing you see as you take out your phone is a text message from none other than Choi Yeonjun, reading ‘hey miss class president, when do ur classes end? i’ll come meet u’.

You smile involuntarily upon thinking about meeting him and you're quick to write back: ‘at 2pm. don't be late.’ A mere second later comes a reply reading ‘wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart’ and in response, you only grin to yourself, heart already beating in excitement. The second the bell rings, you're out the door, fixing your hair hastily as you look into the camera of your phone. It's not like you want him to notice the efforts you're putting in to look good, because he'd probably figure out it's all for him way too quickly, but you can't help feeling a little nervous about meeting him. Though you shouldn't, because who is he to make you feel this way?

With your thoughts occupied by Yeonjun, you don't even realize you've run into someone before you feel yourself stumbling backwards, your bag almost falling off of your shoulder.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” You say quickly, eyes scanning the face of the girl you just bumped into for any signs of bruises. Thankfully, there is none, and after bowing your head a little, you’re about to leave again. Yet, for some reason, the girl steps to the side to block your way and you see that her and her friends are glaring at you threateningly. Wow, are they this upset that you ran into them?

“Look, I’m sorry for bumping into you, but I’m kind of in a hurry, so-”

“Who exactly do you think you are?” You’re caught off guard when the girl speaks, her tone laced with venom as she crosses her arms over her chest. What the fuck? You can't recall ever seeing any of these girls before, so why are they suddenly acting like you stole their boyfriends or something?

“Excuse me?”

“I said, who the fuck do you think you are?” She repeats, just as venomously, rolling her eyes in the process. God, this girl is really getting on your nerves – especially since Yeonjun is most likely going to arrive by the cafeteria in a minute or two. She really couldn't have picked a worse moment to torment you. “Like, seriously, who are you to spend so much time with Yeonjun? What makes you so fucking special, that he decided to just beg for your attention, even though he never does that?”

Oh, so that’s what this is about. Of course. They’re asking you questions you don’t even know the answer to yourself. Why does he keep acting so interested and genuinely curious about you? It’s a thought that has been tormenting your thoughts ever since he picked up those books for you in the hallway.

And after the party on Saturday, when he was walking you home, he was so sweet and alluring, you’d managed to convince yourself that he did actually care for you. Because otherwise, how would you explain him borrowing you his umbrella, even if it meant him having to walk back in the rain? And why would he tell you to text him when you got home if he didn’t care? And, most importantly, why would he tuck your hair behind your ear and look at you as if you gave meaning to his life and lean in to kiss you as the rest of the world dissolved behind the rain?

He couldn’t have done all that without meaning any of it. You know that. Just like you know those girls think otherwise only because they don’t know him. And they never will, either. Because he wants to know you, not them. Something about that fills you up to the brim with joy. And even though part of you still wants to play it safe and keep your undeniable feelings towards him hidden away, it feels so much better to just let them bloom inside of you and wait for what will become of them.

“Are you deaf or what? Why does Yeonjun hang out with you all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe because he likes it,” You retort, feeling your blood start to boil as the girls roll their eyes for the nth time. “And I know this kind of exceeds the amount of information your brain is able to process, but it’s dumb to refuse to believe that he’s found someone he enjoys being around just because he never cared enough to tell you himself.”

A few seconds pass and all you can see in her face is pure shock which slowly, but surely transitions into rage. Before you can even react, the girl has taken a step forward and pushed you with probably all her force, because it makes you stumble over your own feet and lose your balance. A hiss leaves your mouth as your bare knee comes in contact with the pavement, scraping your skin. “You should watch what you say, bitch.”

You’re just about to respond when you hear a familiar voice from somewhere behind the girl and it makes you groan in frustration that he had to arrive at a moment like this.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Yeonjun looks as handsome as ever, his hands buried in his pockets and a chain hanging from his neck as he stands a few meters away from the scene, his eyes scanning the area before they finally land on you. You’re not certain, since he’s far away, but you think you can see his gaze soften a little when you meet his stare. It’s only for a moment, though, because next thing you know, he’s looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him before, his jaw clenching as he pushes past the girls and kneels in front of you.

“What happened?” He asks through gritted teeth, his touch soft as he examines your scraped knee.

“It’s nothing,” You mumble, keeping your gaze fixated on the ground. You're both embarrassed and scared to be caught in a situation like this. It's mostly because you're afraid that Yeonjun will stop spending time with you when he realizes what problems it causes, but also because he looks ready to punch someone and you don't want him to get into trouble because of you. Though he doesn't seem to care about that as he keeps pushing.

“I didn't ask you if it was something, I asked you what the fuck happened,” His voice is serious – more serious than you've ever heard him. “Just answer my question.”

“It’s not that important, okay? Let's just go.”

“But-”

“Let’s just go, Yeonjun, please,” You plead, finally meeting his gaze and watching the anger in his eyes slowly melt as you tug on his sleeve as if to keep him away from the girls behind him. All three of them are eyeing you, faces scrunched up in both shock and irritation. Yeonjun is paying them no attention right now, though, rather looking at you with an expression you can’t quite read.

For a moment, he just stays like that, staring at you for so long you start wondering if he’s studying your bone structure. But then he sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a second before draping his arm over your shoulders and helping you stand up, the warmth of his body against your side bringing a small smile to your face.

“You can walk, right?” He asks and when you nod he continues. “Let’s go to the infirmary, then.”

“It’s just a scratch, though.”

“So?” He leads you towards the school building, leaving the girls behind. “I already told you it’s hard to find pretty girls to annoy these days, so I’d rather be safe that you won’t die from this.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, but inside you can feel your heart speeding up dangerously as some kind of heavenly warmth spreads across your whole body. You might be a fool for feeling so captivated right now, but hearing him call you pretty most certainly made your blood pressure rise. It’s not like you didn’t know he finds you attractive – it’s the reason he approached you at first, after all. But it’s different somehow, hearing him say it so openly, like he’s totally unashamed of feeling that way.

It all almost makes you want to tell him that he absolutely does not annoy you in the slightest, and that if he’d ever stop giving you his attention you might just die from emotional misery. And while it is embarrassing to admit, you can’t deny you’ve grown attached to the type of affection he showers you with – the smiles he sends you, the jokes he tells, and the small, featherlight touches that he leaves on your skin like an everlasting mark.

“The infirmary’s this way, right?” You're torn away from your thoughts as you hear Yeonjun’s voice right above your ear.

“You don’t know where the infirmary is?” You ask him, smile tugging at your lips as you try to hold back the laugh that threatens to spill out of your mouth. He acts so tough, yet he doesn't even know where the school nurse resides. You're unable to keep your giggles inside when you see his annoyed expression, eyes glaring at you from above.

“Well, I haven’t had to deal with girls unable to take care of themselves before, have I?”

“Alright, then, if it’s so much trouble, I’ll just walk home and put on a bandaid myself,” You scoff at him, trying to wriggle out of his grip. That turns out to be a challenge, though, so it's your turn to glare at him.

“Cut it out,” He sighs, pulling you along as he starts walking through the hallway again. “I never said it was too much trouble, so stop acting childish.”

You smile a little to yourself as he pulls you closer to him, the scent of his perfume filling your senses as the two of you arrive at the infirmary. Unfortunately, Yeonjun lets go of you to open the door and you feel a little disappointed now that his skin isn't touching hours. Yet you walk inside nevertheless, looking around for any sign of the nurse. You can hear the door close from behind you and you turn around, letting Yeonjun know that there's nobody here.

“She’s probably on break,” You add.

You can see him roll his eyes as he walks over to the nurse’s desk, opening up the drawers in search of something – a bandaid, probably. You want to tell him that he shouldn't be doing that since the nurse isn't here, but seeing that he's already a little upset, you decide not to. Besides, he is Choi Yeonjun. He's done worse things than break into the nurse’s office to find a bandaid for a girl. A girl you're starting to wonder if he likes a bit more than he lets on.

“Sit on the desk,” Yeonjun says, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “I need to put on the bandaid, so sit on the desk.”

“Oh, okay,” You do what he says, letting your legs dangle off of the table as you sit on it, doing your best not to spread your thighs too much since you're wearing a skirt.

You can see how Yeonjun’s eyes follow your movements, and before you can even protest, he's taking off his hoodie and draping it over your legs, so that only your knee and the skin under it is exposed. Muttering a small ‘thank you’, you subtly let your eyes rest on his frame as he kneels in front of you, pouring some rubbing alcohol onto a damp cloth. He's done this before, probably, with how many times you've heard that his friends get into fights for fun.

“I can do it myself, you know,” You tell him when he brings the cloth to your knee, carefully brushing it over your scratch.

“I know.”

But he doesn't move away, nor does he meet your eyes as they look down on him – seemingly neutral, hopefully hiding the way your heart flutters at his words. Stupid heart, you think to yourself, reacting like that even though he didn't do anything much. Though that changes the moment his fingers come in contact with the flesh on your thigh as he places the bandaid on your scraped knee, brushing over it with his hand to secure it in place and at the same time, making sure that your heart gets no rest. His touch feels strangely comforting, even though he's just barely grazing your skin with the tip of his fingers. The warmth that spreads through your body at his actions disappears way too quickly when he finishes putting on the bandaid, pulling away and looking up, finally meeting your gaze.

But he definitely chose the worst moment to do so, because the look in your eyes evidently gives up what you were thinking about just a mere second ago. Who you were thinking about, that is. A moment passes by and you can't read his expression, but then a smile tugs at his lips and he gazes at you in a way that has you feeling lightheaded, head spinning in the best way possible.

But that is nothing compared to the way you feel when he stands up, moving his face so close to yours that you're breathing the same air and bringing his hands up to caress your cheeks. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, and then back again, but you can't seem to gather your thoughts enough to even focus on one part of him, eyes taking in every bit of his beauty that they can gather. Your breathing is erratic and your face is burning up under his touch, heart banging against your chest and palms getting sweaty. You're warm, burning up almost, yet he manages to spread goosebumps all over your skin by just running his thumb over your lower lip, looking down on you like he's waiting for your permission.

And though it's almost embarrassing just how quick you're willing to give it to him, you don't really care at that moment. All you can think about is him – his eyes, nose, and lips that you want to kiss. So you move closer, even if by just an inch, and you know he understands what you mean by it. And you're impatiently waiting for him to do something, so infatuated with him that you can't even think straight.

It's worth the wait, though, because as he leans in to connect his lips to yours, you feel happier than you've ever felt in your entire life.

It's perfect, the kiss – slow, soft and delicate, the movements of his lips gentle, like he doesn't want to scare you away. And he's perfect, too, with his fingers touching the skin off your cheeks, caressing it like it’s his dearest possession. Your tongues melt together in a perfect combination of bliss and desire, the whole world drowned out by the taste of his lips. He's the only thing you can feel in that moment – you’re breathing his perfume, getting completely lost in the sensation of his hand dropping down to your thigh, grazing it ever so slightly and making you gasp quietly into the kiss.

He’s never touched you like this before – with so much tenderness in his caress – and you love it. You love how all of his attention is on you, and how he’s taking his time, kissing you like it’s the last time. But you hope to God it’s not, because you’re not sure if you could’ve ever moved on with your usual life after feeling his lips on yours, taking every worry and doubt off of your mind.

Your noses bump into each other, breaking the kiss and it’s an empty feeling that fills you as he pulls away. But your misery is put to an end as you open your eyes and find him still there, only an inch or so away from you with a smile on his face. And it’s a real smile, a genuine one. Not a smirk or pitiful look. It’s just pure elation radiating off of him and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The words roll off of his tongue so easily that you would've thought that he'd just asked you for help on his homework; not confessed his feelings for you. Which, by the way, makes your heart stop by itself because one thing is being kissed by Choi Yeonjun – being told that he fancies you is another.

“What?”

“I think I'm in love with you,” He repeats, tone dead serious and the smirk you've grown to see on him nowhere to be found. You’re pretty sure your heart has stopped beating by now, mouth hanging open as you attempt to process what’s happening.“I smile when you're happy, I miss you when you're gone, I hate it when you're sad. And, most importantly, you make me want to become a better person. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.”

Saying that you’re left speechless would be an understatement. His words quite literally make your stomach do flips, your heart basically beating inside your throat. Part of you had dreamed of this, hoped that he actually cares about you, but it's hard to wrap your head around the fact that he's not kidding. That – for the first time in his life, probably – he’s serious. And that he's awaiting an answer.

“You’re not gonna say anything?”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m a little quiet after the school’s handsome fuckboy just told me he loves me, but it’s kind of shocking news,” You say sharply, furrowing your eyebrows when you see the smirk you know all too well spread itself across Yeonjun’s lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His smile only widens as he leans down to place his face mere centimeters away from yours. For a moment, you think he's going to kiss you again, and you're about to close your eyes, but your plans are cut short when he starts speaking instead.

“So you think I’m handsome?”

You roll your eyes, half-disappointed and half-relieved that he didn't kiss you, because you're not sure whether you wouldn't have died of a heart attack if he did. “I think you’re annoying as fuck.”

“And you know what I think?” He leans forwards again, this time resting his lips against the shell of your ear and causing your breath to hitch as he speaks. “I think I’m making you nervous, sweetheart.”

You don't get to say anything – though you're not certain you would be able to, either – before his lips move to your jaw and he presses a soft kiss to the skin right below your ear. It makes goosebumps spread across your whole body and it doesn't exactly help that when he pulls away, he sends you the most knee-buckling smile paired with an outstretched hand to help you get off of the table. With slightly shaky hands, you reach for him, trying your best not to faint when he interlocks his fingers through yours. None of you bother to clean up the nurse’s office, walking through the school halls again, this time heading out.

“So,” Yeonjun says eventually, swaying your interlaced hands a little and by that, making butterflies swarm in your stomach. The grip he has on you is really annoying sometimes. “Will I get an answer? Do you feel the same way or do you not date people like me?”

You stop in your tracks, sighing softly as you turn to face, deciding that you can't hide from the question forever. Your gaze rests on your hands for a second as you gather your thoughts, before you actually look into his eyes, hoping that he can't see how anxious you are.

“I do. Feel the same way, I mean.” You take a deep breath before uttering the words that you wish you’d said sooner, because they'd been a lingering weight on your shoulders the past few days. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Yeonjun.”

“Good,” He smiles, letting go of your hand to bring his fingers to your cheek instead. “Because you have no idea just how long I've waited to do this.”

And just like that, his lips are on yours, hands caressing your cheeks so softly that it's a big contrast to the way he's kissing you eagerly. You're quick to reciprocate the actions, letting your mouths move in a steady rhythm as you slowly, but surely forget your surroundings, nothing but Yeonjun on your mind. He knows exactly what to do to make you crave more, with his hands just barely grazing your skin, leaving goosebumps on it. But when it comes to the kiss, he can't seem to hold back either, already pushing you against the wall in the hallway after only a few seconds.

You wince a little at the cold stone against your back, and instantly, he's pulling away to look at you worriedly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” You reply, not bothering to explain what happened, because your lips are already aching to kiss him. So you put your hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer, capturing his lips in a messier, needier, but just as euphoric kiss.

Yeonjun most certainly enjoys this new side of you, smiling into the kiss as his hand comes down to touch your thigh, making you gasp. Naturally, he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, and pretty quickly you're met with the taste of cigarettes and something more subtle – the taste of him. It's addicting, all of it. His taste, his touch, his smell. And he knows perfectly well how lightheaded he's making you feel when his fingers move higher up your thigh, touching the hem of your skirt now.

“Can I?” He pulls away to ask, motioning towards his hand that is on its way to slip under your skirt.

You waste no time in letting him know just how much you want him, pressing your lips to his instead of responding and guiding his hand further up your thigh, until it rests against your already damp panties. He smiles into the kiss again, running his knuckles over your clothed core, satisfied as you audibly moan into his mouth. Words can't explain how many emotions that are stirring up in your mind at this moment, but uncertainty most definitely isn't one of them. So much is evident in the way you're grabbing onto his hair, whining when his fingers run over the thin, and almost completely soaked through, fabric of your panties.

This is so new to you, but so amazing, too. It feels like heaven to have him touching you like this, to have him looking at you so lovingly, and yet so passionately.

You can't stop the small noises from leaving your mouth when Yeonjun’s fingers start drawing small circles on your clothed pussy, your panties rubbing against your heat and creating a pleasant friction. He's not kissing you now, having pulled away to look at your features and listen to all the sounds that you make at the smallest touches. Even as he pulls his hand away, you whine for him, bucking your hips a little so as to not lose the sensation.

“You’re so cute,” He coos, fingers tilting your chin upwards the moment you try to look away from him, embarrassed. “This little is enough to get you so needy.”

Before you get to say anything, his lips travel to your jaw and then your neck, spilling kisses across your skin. You gasp when he sucks on the flesh, hard enough to leave a mark, before his mouth moves upwards again, resting against the shell of your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere else, though, okay, princess?” He whispers into your ear. “This isn't exactly the ideal place to… you know.”

And just like that, his touch is gone and you're allowed to calm down a little, though the heat between your legs doesn't disappear so easily. You fix your skirt a little, a little embarrassed after turning into a whining mess for him so quickly, but he doesn't seem to mind – a bright smile on his face, so you only smile back at him and grab his outstretched hand.

“I thought you didn't have a problem fucking girls on campus, though?” You inquire as he leads you through the hall, his hand warm in yours.

“No, but I do have a problem with not taking the girl I love to my house before fucking her brains out.”

These words both cause your heart to swell and your pussy to throb painfully from between your thighs. Now you’re definitely convinced that Yeonjun’s goal in life is to make your blood pressure rise to dangerous levels. How can he say he loves you and that he wants to fuck you in the same sentence? You might have already kissed him and had his hand between your legs, but that doesn’t change the fact that your knees threaten to give in when he winks at you and continues walking like nothing even happened.

“Wow, you're really good at this boyfriend stuff for being a fuckboy,” You tell him when you’re sure your voice won’t quiver, and you’re surprised to find an even wider grin on his face when you turn to look at him.

“Oh, so I'm your boyfriend?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you scoff in response, rolling your eyes to assure that he doesn’t notice how your heart skips a beat.

“Shut up,” You say, but there’s no annoyance in your voice. “Yes, you're my boyfriend, happy now?”

“Yes,” You feel your whole face heat up when he presses a kiss to your cheek before the two of you finally reach his car, and he opens the door for you. “Very happy.”

—

After a few kisses and a drive that lasted only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity because of the throb between your legs and Yeonjun’s warm hand that rested on your thigh the entire time, the two of you finally arrive in front of the block in which you assume Yeonjun, your boyfriend, lives. God, it feels so weird to call him that. And to think he was a complete stranger to you less than a month ago. Now, though, you're wishing he'll never let go of your hand and your cunt is throbbing with excitement as he leads you up the stairs to his apartment.

You’ve barely made it through the doorway before Yeonjun’s slamming the door shut and pushing you against it, just like he did in the school hall earlier. Only this time, he's not holding back – his hands slipping under your shirt with ease, finding your tits and his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You let a few sounds escape your mouth when he runs his tongue over your skin, before sucking on it harshly. You're about to comment on his actions, say that he must really be into marking, but the words get lost in your throat when he rolls his hips into yours.

“Oh,” You're both fully clothed, but that doesn't make the tent in his pants any less obvious as it rests against your thigh.

Yeonjun’s expression turns into a frown immediately, and he’s quick to pull away and look at you in concern. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

“What? No,” You shake your head a little too eagerly, though you suppose your irrational actions could be excused due to the intensity of the situation. You are about to get railed by the one and only Choi Yeonjun, after all. “No, I'm just worried, you know, like, it won't fit.”

The worry in his eyes dissolves at your words, replaced with a hint of amusement and cocky grin that makes your knees grow weak. You wonder whether you just should've kept your mouth shut, because what you said seems to have inflated his ego even more. Still, you don't exactly get to ponder that for long because before you know it, his hand is caressing your cheek, thumb swiping over your lower lip and you're already feeling dizzy. That dizziness all but intensifies when he leans down to let his mouth hover over your ear, barely grazing it as he speaks.

“I’ll make it fit, then.”

And just like that – as if he didn’t just knock the air out of your lungs – he grabs your hand and leads you further into his house.

As you walk inside, you're met with a simple interior – a living room connected to the kitchen and two doors, one probably leading to the bathroom, while the other to his bedroom. What surprises you the most is the clean state of the apartment. You would've mistaken it for something he'd rented out for one night if it weren't for the unwashed dishes and a pair of boxers lying on the floor by the couch. His bedroom isn't very different – a few shirts are scattered on the floor, but his bed is made and he's got a shelf full of books.

“Wouldn’t have taken you for someone this organized,” You comment with a smile, “You’re good at keeping this place clean, for sure.”

“Well, I'm good at a lot of things,” He purrs as his hands grab your waist and pull your body close to his, nose brushing over yours and his breath hot on your lips. Just like that, he's reminded you of why you're here and your stomach stirs in excitement as you speak in a quivering tone.

“Yeah? Like what?”

A smile sets on his features and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes fanning down to your lips for only a moment before they meet yours. Your breath gets caught in your throat yet again when he teasingly runs a finger down your collarbones, before he lets it run over your arm and hip. Finally, it rests on your upper thigh, so close to your clothed cunt that if you moved your hips a little forward, his fingers would brush over the fabric of your panties. You don't have to do that, though, because a mere second later, the palm of his hand is pressed flat against your clit and you whimper loudly from the feeling.

“Like stuffing this cute little pussy full of my cum.”

And as if to mark his words, he starts rubbing his hand against your cunt, slowly drawing circles on the thin fabric of your panties which are now so wet that you fear your arousal will start to drip from them and onto your thigh. Yeonjun seems to notice this, too, because before you know it, he's pushing you onto his bed and spreading your legs, eyeing your cunt hungrily.

“So fucking wet,” He says, pushing your panties aside and pressing a finger flat against your pussy, moving it up and down painfully slowly. “Tell me, are you always this needy, baby?”

“Just–” Your reply is replaced by a whimper when he starts moving his finger faster, now also paying attention to your clit. Upon seeing his awaiting expression, you inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts, though that isn't very easy when Yeonjun is smearing your arousal all over your cunt. “Just for you.”

Satisfied, he smiles down on you, albeit a little condescendingly, and you take that as an opportunity to buck your hips upwards to create a little bit more friction. That doesn't seem to be Yeonjun’s plan, though, because he's quick to push your hips down again, a disapproving look on his face. You're about to complain, but before you can do that, he delivers a slap to your pussy that makes you whimper and your thighs instinctively start to close.

“Yeonjun,” You whine as he pryes your thighs apart again, still teasing you with the way he's slowly rubbing your clit, fingers barely grazing it as he does so. His touch is featherlight and you need more, or else you're certain you're going to go insane. “Please…”

“God, you're so cute when you're needy,” He coos, hand slipping under your shirt to play with one of your tits. “Now, be a good girl and let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod vigorously, and he pinches your nipple slightly before his fingers start working faster on your clit. The sudden change in pace makes your back arch and you can't hold back the moans that slip from your lips when he pushes one of his fingers inside of your pussy. His hand that is caressing your breast moves to stroke your hair as he adds another finger, stretching you out and making you clench around his digits. He's pushing them in and out of you quickly now, hitting all the right spots and definitely enjoying how you're moaning his name.

“More, please, it feels so good,” You basically cry out, rolling your hips against his hand.

This time, he doesn't tease you anymore, moving his hands to your thighs as he leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your clit. You whimper softly at the contact, bucking your hips up again, although your movements come to an end as he licks a stripe up your pussy, before twirling his tongue over your clit. Moaning his name, you grab at the sheets, probably ruining them in the process. Not that you care right now, because with his two fingers pumping in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, it's hard to focus on anything else.

“Too much, Yeonjun, it's too much,” You whimper, grabbing at his hair, half pulling him closer, half pushing him away.

He only smiles against your folds, tongue plunging deep inside of you to replace his fingers that are now rubbing your clit quickly. One look down is enough to see that at this point, his sheets are stained with your arousal, and your pussy tightens around him at the sight. You can feel him smile into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit.

“Too much? If this is too much, then how are you going to handle my cock, baby?” He mumbles against your pussy and you shiver, clenching and unclenching around his tongue.

It doesn't take long before the familiar feeling of rapture stirs up in your stomach, and you know you're close to your orgasm. Yeonjun has no trouble understanding that you're about to cum from the way your hands are grilling at his hair and whimpers are leaving your mouth in series. He does nothing to slow down his movements, though, actually speeding up the way he's lapping at your pussy, his tongue reaching places you didn't even know was possible and his hand holding your hips in place so you can't move away, even when the pleasure becomes too much to handle and you're whimpering his name.

“Yeonjun, please, I–” Your voice breaks into a moan as his teeth graze your clit, and you're basically squirming under him now, thighs shaking with every lick at your pussy. “Gonna cum.”

The knot in your stomach tightens quickly, and when you're at the very edge, you pull at Yeonjun’s hair harshly to bring him as close to your dripping cunt as possible, eyes rolling to the back of your head. It's completely over for you the moment he groans into your pussy, pleasure spreading across your body like wildfire when you reach your high, a loud moan falling from your lips and your eyes screwed shut.

You stay like that for a few seconds, catching your breath, and when you finally open your eyes you’re met with a sight that instantly makes your swollen cunt start throbbing again – namely Yeonjun licking his fingers clean of your juices, a smirk on his face the moment he catches your captivated gaze.

“You taste like fucking candy, baby,” He says, moving up so his face is at your level and he can press a kiss to your jaw before he whispers directly into your ear. “If I could, I’d eat you out for hours on end, but I suppose there are other things we need to take care of first, hmm?”

You would be lying if you said he wasn’t getting you all riled up again, your pussy already acquiring its own heartbeat when you feel his hard-on pressed up to your thigh. It's straining against his pants like crazy now, and he thinks he's going to go insane if he has to hear your pretty moans again without stuffing your pussy with his cock first. Luckily, you’re thinking the same thing, tugging at his collar a little with a pout on your face as you speak.

“Yeonjun…” Your voice is shivering – there’s no doubt that you’re feeling fucked out from your recent orgasm, but that doesn’t prevent you from grinding your hips against his leg that he’s resting between your thighs. “Want your cock, please.”

Yeonjun can feel his cock twitch in his pants at your words and it only takes him a glance at your fucked out expression to give you exactly what you want – his hands coming up to help you unbutton his shirt before he discards it somewhere on the floor. Next to go are his jeans and boxers, and you can't help the way your eyes grow wide when he finally lets his dick spring free.

He’s big, and even though you knew that already, it creates a pool of arousal between your legs. You don’t even try to hide that the sight of him is turning you on, your eyes traveling around his naked body so shamelessly that you could’ve never done it if it weren’t for your current state of desperation.

You want him. Bad. And you know he knows it, too, because soon enough, he’s smirking as he hovers above you again, his breath hot on your face and his bare cock resting against your skin enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“Yeah? My fingers weren’t enough, you want my cock, too?”

You nod vigorously – it's the best response you can give at this point. Luckily for you, he doesn’t demand for you to use your words this time, instead positioning himself at your entrance straight away, the tip of his cock grazing your clit. Biting your lip, you send him a pleading look, but he only grins back, dragging his cock up and down your folds. You whimper when it rubs against your clit, throwing your head back in pleasure and grabbing at the sheets again. It feels good, but you need more of him, so you thrust your hips up to meet his, the amused look on his face telling you that he does this just to mess with you.

“Please, Yeonjun, more.”

He gives into your pleas this time, enjoying the way you whine when he removes his cock from your clit, only to reposition himself at your entrance and push into you slowly. You gasp at the feeling of being stretched out, his cock already making you feel full and you clench around him, drawing a soft groan from his mouth. You’ve barely gotten used to the feeling of him inside of you before he continues entering you – making you realize that he was merely halfway earlier.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He mutters, hands tightening on your hips and you realize he’s resisting the urge to move.

It’s painful, the stretch, and it basically has you gasping for air when he bottoms out, your walls sucking him in and tightening around him in a way that allows you to feel every part of his cock clearly. He waits for you to get used to him, one hand slipping under your bra to play with your breast, soft fingers running over your nipple and making you arch your back, pushing your chest against his hand.

“You-” You begin, cut off by the way he pinches your nipple, making you whimper, the sound bringing a smirk to his features. “You can move now.”

And move he does, thrusting into you slowly, but strongly enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open and moans spilling out of it.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He asks, moving in and out of you leisurely, seemingly unfazed by the way you're clenching around him like crazy.

“Mhmm,” You moan in response, pulling him closer to you with your legs.

He takes the close proximity as an opportunity to move his hand from your chest to your jaw, moving it to the side so that he can lean down to press kisses to your neck. The movement makes his dick sink further into your wet cunt, and it has you closing your eyes, whimpering. His lips suck marks into your sensitive skin, nose running over those he left on your neck earlier while he keeps thrusting into you, now with the palm of his hand pressing down on your clit.

You spread your legs wider for him when he starts rubbing your clit, and he smiles against the skin of your neck before pressing one kast kiss to it, pulling away. He's looking down on you now, watching your tits bounce with every deep thrust, your vision cloudy already. The lewd sounds your pussy makes when he slides in and out are enough to make him twitch inside of you, aching to move faster, and your moans are exactly what prompts him to do just that.

He speeds up, his hand positioning your leg higher on his hip so he can pound into you from a deeper angle as he watches your face contorted in pleasure. You're grabbing onto his shoulders for dear life as he fucks you into the mattress, your head turned away and your lip between your teeth to muffle the embarrassingly loud moans and whimpers you're letting out.

“Look at me,” Yeonjun’s not having any of it, fingers sinking into the soft skin of your cheeks as he turns your head so you're forced to look at him. “You wanted me to fuck this pussy so bad and now you can't even look at me while I do it?”

It's shameful how you instantly clench around his cock when he says that, but he seems to enjoy how you react to him, fingers gripping your jaw tighter as his thrusts manage to become somehow deeper. He's making you see starts with the way his hand moves from your jaw to your throat, fingers wrapped around it as he splits you open with his cock. Your thighs are starting to shake, the knot in your stomach tightening and there's no point in attempting to hold your moans back – they manage to escape past your lips anyway.

“I’m close,” You warn him, but it sounds more like a whimper than a sentence.

This only fuels him on, his fingers working wonders on your clit while his dick reaches sensitive places you didn't know existed. You're basically drooling onto his hand now, vision hazy and whole body trembling with pleasure. The feeling of fullness is making you dizzy, making it hard to make out coherent thoughts.

“That’s it, keep taking all I give you like the good girl you are,” He groans, his cock twitching inside of your cunt. “Nobody takes it as well as you.”

You let out a loud, broken moan as you teach your high, nails digging into his shoulders and pussy clenching around his dick. Not a moment later, he's shooting his load inside of you, filling you up with his cum as you moan his name repeatedly, eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure. A moment passes by for you to catch your breaths, before he's pulling out to lay down next to you.

You’re left feeling a little empty, but it doesn't matter the second Yeonjun’s arms come to pull you in for a hug. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, eyes still screwed shut as you listen to his heartbeat, and you're pretty sure it's the prettiest sound you've ever heard in your entire life. It's steady and loud against your ear, and his hot breath hitting the top of your head feels comforting.

“You look so pretty like this,” You hear Yeonjun’s voice after a while, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “So, so pretty.”

You fight the urge to leave your eyes closed – your exhaustion finally catching up to you after two orgasms – to look up at him, and it’s definitely worth it. He looks beautiful – even more than usually – with his hair sticking to his forehead, eyelids heavy and a sheepish smile on his face. You reciprocate the grin as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before you're lying down on his chest again, sighing softly.

“Let’s stay like this forever.”

You can feel his chest rumble with the chuckle he lets out, before he picks your hair out of your face to whisper in your ear.

“I’d like nothing more.”

And you know he means it.

#ficscafe #choi yeonjun smut #yeonjun smut #txt smut #choi yeonjun x reader

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muffin-snakes-art · 5 months

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Hi. So I’m not a Layton guy and all THAT familiar with the lore, but a close friend of mine is, and as far as I understand Layton has a dead girlfriend? Can I please know who Magolor’s dead girlfriend equivalent in this AU is? I’m legitimately so curious. /pos

I have been thinking A LOT about which Kirby character would fit Claire's (dead gf) role. In the end I chose Taranza bc I feel he and Claire are the most similar in character. They're both really good at what they do (Claire: brilliant scientist - Taranza: immaculate mage), quick thinkers, humble, and have a lot of love to give.

I'll explain more under the cut (along with images of Claire and younger Layton for design ref), but Taranza could've also fit in as a couple other characters bc I made Sectonia as Descole. In this essay I will-

In Kirby there's an interesting connection between Magolor and Taranza. Primarily based on that one Magolor portrait in that haunted house in Triple Deluxe (like ok huh????) and also that one Star Allies Wave 3 illustration.

With that portrait existing, to me it implies that Magolor has met Taranza and Sectonia before the events of the game somehow. This theory is further backed up with the Old Friend mask in Merry Magoland. Magolor would HAVE to have known what Joronia looked like before her transformation, and that means he would also have met Taranza too at that time. I could be completely wrong about this HAHA but those are my thoughts on that.

When Wave 3 was announced, I didn't think much on the connection of the 3 characters other than they were from the first three core games of modern Kirby. But then they posted this art piece.

It's so cute how Magolor and Taranza combined their magic to create a shield for Kirby!! Both of their respective magic circle designs are melded together perfectly. Did they practice together on their own to perform this or was that a lucky in-the-moment occurrence? Either way, they must know and understand each other's magic abilities to a decent extent. Like how both Claire and Layton understands each other's careers and goals. Layton is a professor in archeology. Claire is a scientist researching time travel and other stuffs. Those fields go hand in hand, and the two do what they can to support and improve each other's passions.

Now onto the other characters that Taranza would've fit as and reasons why I ended up putting him as Claire.

So I put Sectonia as Descole. Descole has an extremely loyal partner/butler/henchman named Raymond. Yea Taranza would easily fit as him, but a few things made me decide not to. Descole may appear cold and not show it, but even in his madness he cares for Raymond. He does order Raymond around, but he still gives Raymond freewill to do as he pleases. Sectonia is very controlling over Taranza. If Raymond were to make mistakes, I don't see Descole punishing him for them. Sectonia would. She blasted Taranza away for mistaking Dedede as the hero of the lower world. Maybe when she was Joronia she wouldn't and wasn't as controlling but....I feel we don't have the full story on their relationship. I also focused more on Sectonia's overall in-game personality. I absolutely love seeing the two spiders enjoying each other's company and having fun, but in-game we never really got what Joronia really thought of Taranza. As Sectonia, she saw him as a disposable servant. You can say her personality was corrupted by the mirror, but I personally believe the mirror actually amplified her negative feelings and views. Negative emotions are brought up a lot in Kirby lore. I personally find that more interesting than just the mirror possessing her or something. I may be very wrong on that, but those are what I thought about.

Last reason, which is uhm, Raymond saves Descole from death FGDHSJ I don't think I need to elaborate on that. It would be so neat and ironic to have Taranza as Raymond, but I also wanna keep things in line as possible with Kirby lore canon.

Yet, who could be Raymond then? Idk fgdsj that's why I struggled so much. If Claire wasn't an option, Taranza would've been Raymond.

Now the one other character Taranza could've fit as is Descole's late wife. His wife was never mentioned by name, to my memory, and didn't have a huge role in the games. There's not enough information on who she was. I wanted to give Taranza a fitting role in personality and importance.

So in the end after all that thinking, Claire it is! I also don't know who else in the Kirby cast would fit her better and be Professor Magolor's late partner. One may think Susie would fit Claire more, but I've already decided she will be Emmy. Emmy's and Susie's personalities are very similar to me. And Emmy's lore? Fits quite well with Susie's. I'll draw that at some point.

So uh yea. Thanks for reading all that if you did! Hope you enjoyed the insanity

#feel free to disagree!#I thought about this for the past few days I am unwell #i spent a good few hours writing this #there are many other important things i could've put my time into but this is very important to me #one last thing...#I've also decided who'll be Don Paolo #mark HAHA #it sounds so dumb knowing the story but also fitting in character???#that may change but I can't stop thinking about Don Marx......#asks #anon ask #kirby #magolor #taranza #sectonia #PLxKirby #professor layton #hershel layton #claire foley #jean descole #nintendo #hal laboratory #fanart #clip studio paint #magoranza/taranzolor get yo food #i don't ship characters but this is a cute ship and I see the appeal #i feel there's more to say about Magolor's and Taranza's connection #and how it parallels Claire's and Layton's story #but I can't figure out how to word it and it's mostly hc based #am tired idk how to write

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good-soupmens · 8 months

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Apply this to Aziraphale how you will, but as an autistic person, I REALLY fell for Metatron's kind old man act. I didn't notice the subtle manipulation, like giving Aziraphale coffee and saying "I've ingested things in my time" to show that he's different from the food-hating, earth-hating angels. I didn't notice him taking on Aziraphale's speech mannerisms before turning away and scowling. It was only after reading meta and rewatching twice that I was like WOAH I didn't even see that.

I can see that heaven's system is screwed up, but I literally thought "Metatron's not like the other angels." I trusted his kindness, especially given that he wanted Aziraphale to run heaven, obviously the best angel for the job. I didn't consider that he wanted to appoint him because he knows Aziraphale is powerful and has stopped heaven and hell before.

I was right along with Aziraphale when all of this went down, agreeing with him when he didn't want the job ("where would I get my coffee?") and then seeing the appeal when Metatron said he could run heaven from earth WITH Crowley. They get to keep living the life they carved out for each other AND Aziraphale can fix the corruption in heaven? I love seeing kind-hearted characters fixing broken things, and I wanted him to fix the system.

As for Crowley becoming an angel again, I didn't really think of it as changing him. He's just Crowley, and he'd keep being Crowley. He's good already. I saw it as heaven offering to right their wrong because he never deserved to fall in the first place, and they wouldn't let someone they believed is evil back in, right? I trusted their judgment of Aziraphale and Crowley. I didn't consider that of COURSE Crowley wouldn't want to go back there. Why would he??

So when Aziraphale finally told him about the offer, I was hoping he would agree. It's important, they could change things! Metatron is claiming to give Aziraphale the reins. Crowley and Aziraphale for once are allowed to be together, and Aziraphale was so ready to not hold back in their relationship. There'd be no reason to deny it or go slow, it's obvious that their love is mutual.

It wasn't a surprise that Crowley said no, and deep down, Aziraphale knew why, but he didn't understand. Crowley and Aziraphale weren't seeing how the other saw it (that Aziraphale WANTS to be together. He wants to make heaven a better place, but Crowley believes it'll never happen, and heaven means to manipulate him). They truly would be the perfect team if they were in charge.

But the problem: that's not what Metatron or heaven intends. "Give me coffee or give me death" meant that if Aziraphale didn't accept the offer, he would've been destroyed. Metatron knew he'd accept, and based on the glare he gave Crowley, I don't think Crowley was ever really in his plan. Metatron will try to use Aziraphale and his power to end the world, and he has no idea he's a pawn. He fell for Metatron's apparent kindness and got swept away with the idea that he and Crowley wouldn't have to hide.

It's heartbreaking because I AM frustrated with Aziraphale, but I know why he chose heaven. There's trauma underlying his actions as well, and he didn't need MAGIC coffee (sorry, I'm mean about coffee theory) to fall hook, line, and sinker for what Metatron was selling. He loves Crowley so much, but if his plans to change heaven worked, he'd be saving the entire world from destruction.

People are still like "NO NO NO, how could he leave Crowley? He must've been hypnotized" when he is putting the WORLD first. That's not to say he won't regret it immediately, miss Crowley the entire time, or even change his mind, but it all happened so fast, and Crowley seemingly gave out on him. He refused, said "good luck", and started to leave. They didn't communicate with each other. I don't think Aziraphale was leaving him forever, but he thought "I HAVE to do this". Crowley is right, but Aziraphale can't see it another way.

Now he has to try his best to change heaven. In the end, he'll see the mistake he made and owe an apology to Crowley, but he has to figure it out on his own. After it's all said and done, it could be the last time they hold back from each other. Going through an angst arc of THIS magnitude would be worth it, and Neil Gaiman is a genius

#aziraphale apologist #good omens meta #autistic aziraphale #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #good omens season 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens spoilers #metatron good omens #coffee theory #Aziraphale meta #good omens theory #good omens finale #aziraphale kin

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grimalkinmessor · 1 year

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Not to keep harping on it but Death Note has plenty of fridge horror to go along with the unintentional humor and romance.

Like,,,the ENTIRETY of Wammy's House is such a fucked up concept. An orphanage where they crank out genius kids into the world by...what? What are they doing with those kids? What do you mean one of them died in there? Wait—and the second one is a serial killer? And one joined the mafia? What—WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THOSE KIDS—

Not to mention the intricacies of L and Watari's relationship. He's seen as a butler/father figure until you find out that he's an inventor/war vet who took in an orphan with the express purpose of making him useful. No wonder Wammy's runs the way it does when the og, the man it is named after sees children as tools and means to an end. And, given that L has already made them so much money playing stocks that it doesn't even matter anymore (Mr. Builds A Skyscraper To House Five People), why is Quillish still with him? To keep an eye on him? To make sure L doesn't forget where he came from? Out of some sort of guilt for never teaching him how to take care of himself because those weren't the skills that Quillish thought it important to cultivate? Or maybe even to keep him dependent on Quillish to keep functioning properly.

And then there's the horror of L himself. Not even the implications of him, but the proof of who he is and what he can do. The thought of a man with so much money and power and influence that if he wanted to make you disappear, if he wanted to torture you or hold your loved ones hostage or kill you and everyone that's ever shaken your hand he could and no one would fucking bat an eye—that's fucking terrifying. (Where the fuck is Beyond—) And, not only does he have the power to do all that; no one would question it because he's part of Law™. His every action can be excused as being part of the Greater Good, despite the fact that L himself has admitted that everything he does is for his own benefit and/or entertainment.

Light, of course, is an obvious horror—but one of the most horrific things about him is glossed over. I'm not someone who personally believes in the Death Note's corruptive powers or aura or whatever, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the fact that, once you give up the Death Note, your memories of it are erased. All the people you've killed, all the things that you've seen, you've still seen and done all those things, you just don't remember it. There's a hole in your mind, and all that prickly, thorny mess that grew in you when you were a killer is still there, choking you—you just don't know why. Why are you so unfazed by death? Why don't you cry when your mother dies? Why are you so afraid of being something that looks like you? Will you ever be certain of anything again? Will you ever, truly, know yourself when you can't remember all the atrocities you've committed? Can you ever change and grow again if your roots are gone? Or are you stuck in stasis forever now, your mind stalling in one place in order to keep you from remembering the people you've killed?

#death note #fridge horror #people always talk about the unintentional romance or humor #but i dont think people talk about the unintentional horrors enough #quillish wammy #l lawliet #yagami light #light yagami #wammy kids #*rattles my cage*#THE IMPLICATIONS..!.;THE IMPLICATIONS OF IT ALL..!.!!!#you know for a horror show the horror is extremely well hidden #but then again i DO like scares you gotta think about for a minute #okay but srsly where is beyond #like realistically he was probably put in prison but also canonically im not SURE he was put in prison #bc really do you think quillish wants that on record? one of his experiment orphans committing murder?#or L even do you think L wants someone running around with his secrets and FACE??#i would not be surprised if they just fuckin bodied him afterwards no pomp and circumstance just chucked him in the bog #or worse....he might be back at wammys #locked up in the fuckin basement or some shit #that place is SCARY bro

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teddie-bear420 · 27 days

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Swap Au!! I call it “cold hazbin hotel”

Emily moonstone wants to redeem sinners and get to heaven with the help of her butler lute!

Lots of doodles and ramblings under the cut,

if you have any input or jokes or questions send them to me!!

So this swap starts at the very beginning! Lucifer is a big goodie two shoes who doesn’t express his real feelings and is kinda just heavens doormat. Sera on the other hand is driven by fairness and when she sees Adam mistreating Lilith she intervenes. This gets her sent down to hell with Lilith and they start ruling hell with all the sinners. At some point both Lilith and sera stop caring about the state of hell and the sinners establish the overlords that rule territory’s and all that. Around the time that Emily is born sinners like alastor and husk are well established overlords.

Back in heaven, corruption spreads to leadership and Lucifer (as head archangel) kinda just lets it happen. He still runs the show but he doesn’t stand up for what he believes in anymore. Very weak man, thin wrists… dainty even. Adam is still the general of the Exorcist army and nobody holds any one accountable in heaven and the requirements to get into heaven are raised to in unachievable amount!

Sera and Emily are very close, they talk almost everyday, when Emily starts to grow into an adult sera kinda panics and strains the relationship (Emily’s got mommy issues). Emily’s time spent in sin city leads her to starting the hotel with the Dino chick to hinder the overpopulation in hell (jk she just really wants to see heaven)

So Emily is the heir to a stolen kingdom

Lucifer still has Charlie in heaven and she fills Emily’s role of keeping everyone happy. In this swap he shelters Charlie for any hardships or even having her work for anything, so Charlie is a nepotism baby (in the normal show Charlie went no contact with her dad and built the hotel ground up) her job is to keep everyone joyful!

Charlie is ignorant to the horrors

Vaggie and lute are a little harder to explain cuz I still have no real idea how to approach making lute a sinner cuz uhh.. she already is one. I do know I wanna keep her antennae bangs…Pink to blue….Bug motif…Transition allegory?? You decide

Lute will probably have butler butch vibes, she’s very servant like

But! I see vaggie getting to second in command and becoming a beast. The most ruthless demon slayer ever man, she fights the biggest demons she can find just for the fun of it. She still bulks up (you can take buff vaggie from my cold dead hands)!! She is assigned to protect the arch angel Charlie from quote…

“naughty individuals” -Lucifer (he means Adam)

Their dynamic is very silly, vaggie has to keep Charlie safe from things like assassins, perverts, technology and a goose. We all know that lute struck vaggie down cuz she was gay right? Well that still happens, but vaggie wins the fight (also being egged on by Adam) and ever since she’s looked for a fight so bad she ends up joining lute (warriors bond and all that)

EMILY IS A LAWYER HAHAHAHAHHA AND A BUTCH

Basically she wants to change the heaven standard the lawful way (sera was a court judge after all) think musicals like legally blond, that one Hamilton song, and the death note musical.

She and Charlie get along well enough, it does gag Emily when she finds out that Charlie doesn’t know what a minimum wage job is.

Ok so the main cast gets swapped with the over lords as you can see, the overlords I chose now look much younger, tho carmilla and Rosie are my milfs forever. Velvet is now an intern trying to get out of hell (she hates the heat) vox is now kinda just an obsessive fan boy, carmilla wants to go to heaven to see her daughters again. That Dino chick is the first guest, Emily wants to tame her inner fire (girl style)

Emily has always wanted to see the garden of Eden, so when she comes up with a way to redeem sinners she hopes to visit heaven with them! I’m gonna doodle around with her demon bits,

THATS IT FOR NOW

Will maybe post more

#teddz stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin hotel emily #charlie x vaggie #lute x emily #swap au #cold hazbin hotel

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deputyrook · 6 months

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Impressions- 3/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Weren't you supposed to be afraid?)

Word count: 4581

WARNINGS: Child abuse, attempted infanticide, corruption, stockholm syndrome, drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror & violence.

You dream about the bathroom again.

Your mother is there, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair tied back. It's your childhood home, the bathroom on the second floor just beyond the top of the stairway, painted a garish teal that was popular in the late 70s.

You think you are four years old. Your mother is chattering to you as she fills the tub. She's telling you that she's sorry, but it has to be done- that you're sensitive just like her, she can tell, and that this life will ruin you.

She has to save you from it. You deserve better than this, she says to you, smoothing down your hair with wet hands. Life is too bad, too hard. Too filled with pain and bad people. You're not like them.

The water is cold, and dark. The bathtub seems to expand as you're held underwater- you open your eyes, and they burn. Blurry shapes pass across your vision. The darkness seems to go on forever.

(You were dead for three minutes, the doctors said, before they were able to resuscitate you.)

Somewhere in the haze of the dream, you zoom out to a bird's eye view, and the bathroom starts to decay. You see the top of the toilet crack, the mirror shatter and fall. A chain is attached to the radiator, snaking around your ankle. The light flickers. There is a puddle of blood in the centre of the room.

When you wake up, you are drenched in sweat.

You don't text Mark Hoffman about that dream, instead groggily taking a handful of painkillers to ensure a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

It had only been after your near death experience that you'd started getting flashes, the images and emotions that your childhood friends didn't. At the time, the doctors chalked up to trauma. Later, you learned to keep it quiet.

Maybe, somewhere in the world- wherever she was now- your mother had woken up after the same dream. You are just about the same age now as she was then, and when you look in the mirror, you see the same tired eyes.

She was right about one thing, you think, your recent visions coming back to you. Life is full of pain.

As you lay back down, your cat Prawn crawls up beside you and starts purring relentlessly. He shoves his face against yours, like he can tell you're feeling down. He smooshes against you, and despite yourself you chuckle, petting him softly.

The last thing you wonder before you fall asleep is what your mother would think of what you're doing now. She may have been right about life, but she was wrong about you.

You are like them. Maybe worse.

---

"What do you mean, you haven't had any visions since yesterday morning?" Mark asks as he drives, gloved hands gripping the wheel so tightly that you're surprised he doesn't leave a permanent indent on it.

"I took some painkillers yesterday. They block out the noise, at least for a bit," you answer, sparing a look over at him, "I wanted to be a normal human being for a while."

He shakes his head in what appears to be annoyance, distaste or disappointment- you can't tell which.

"Quit complaining," He says, without even a hint of sympathy. You wonder if sympathy is an emotion he knows how to feel, "Pills aren't going to make you feel normal."

With your senses dulled, you feel cut-off from the world around you, and by extension, Mark Hoffman. Without the bleed of other people's emotions, thoughts, and memories into your mind, you feel more independent, more a person. It comes at the cost of your intuition, but at least you can tell a bit more clearly where Jigsaw ends and you begin.

Still, somewhere along the way, you stopped flinching every time Mark Hoffman looked at you. It's incredible, what the human mind can normalize. How it can change fear to thrill to anticipation.

"It'll come back, it always does. Pretty soon, if my timing is right," You shoot Mark a look, "Wouldn't want to be useless to you."

He sneaks a glance back at you. "I'm sure I could find a use for you."

For a second, it feels like the energy in the car changes. With that insinuation, there's a tension between you that becomes obvious. The air in the car feels tight.

It feels dangerous. Your cheeks flush, and you don't exactly know how to respond to that, so you drum your fingers on your thigh and look out the window.

"It's been affecting me," you admit, finally, changing the subject. "I've been connected to this web of the worst of humanity. I needed a break."

Mark scoffs. "You're telling me that shutting your eyes and pretending it's not happening is going to make you feel better?"

"A little," you lie, before you sigh and stretch. "Maybe when my intuition comes back, I should just go to a dog park, close my eyes, and pet all the dogs."

"You get any hits on the dogs being mistreated, you can send the owners my way," Mark replies, deadpan.

You actually laugh out loud at that, mostly out of surprise. Mark still looks serious- he really doesn't smile all that often. Was that a joke? Probably not entirely, but either way, you can't help but smile as you shake your head at his audacity.

Your suspicion that Mark is at least somewhat serious is confirmed when he continues.

"We could do a lot of good work like that," Mark adds quietly after a moment, "You pick them. I test them. You sense the threats, I deal with them from the inside. A pretty fucking effective team, if you ask me."

"Is that what you want? Us to murder people together?" You ask, voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Yeah," Mark replies simply, seriously. A shiver runs across your skin, and at that single word, your stomach drops. It seems too real a possibility, suddenly. That you could actually do it. That you would actually do it. That you could do it, together, and not get caught.

"Did you forget that I'm here under duress?" You reply uncomfortably. The words sound like a lie even to you as they leave your mouth.

"Really? I don't see a gun to your head." He points out. You shuffle in your seat, and pick at a seam on your jeans. He's right, and the guilt of it hits you square in the chest.

What are you doing here, if it's not because you've been forced to be? The answer just makes you feel more guilty, rising like bile in your throat.

You've enjoyed being needed. He's dangerous, and he's taking you seriously, bringing you along. He needs you, he wants you here.

You've been having fun.

He'd kill you in a second if you threatened him, without an ounce of regret. You still like him. Are you insane? Suicidal?

Fuck. It hurts your head. It takes every image you've ever had of yourself and crumples it into a little paper ball. And sets it on fire. You don't even know who you are anymore.

"How would Jigsaw number one feel about that?" You ask instead, trying to hide the sudden waves of turmoil that crash through you, making you feel sea-sick and confused.

"Pretty soon, it won't matter," Mark's voice is dark, and he looks straight ahead at the road as he drives. Once again, you have no idea where he's taking you, but you've been driven well outside of the city centre. The area is dilapidated, and you pass lawn after lawn filled with detritus and garbage.

It didn't even occur to you to try to remember the route to get here.

"I wasn't sure about it at first either," Mark murmurs after a while, with a cruel twist of the corner of his mouth, "Then I realized. They have a real chance to get out alive. Maybe they learn their lesson. Maybe they don't. Well, then, we can just put them back into the games until they figure it out, or they die. It's housekeeping."

"That's fucked up. These are people you're talking about. With their own lives and hopes and dreams," Is it him you're trying to convince, or yourself? Maybe you're pushing your luck, arguing with him as much as you are. It's weightless, regardless. Here you are, tagging along, no gun in sight.

"Nah. You said it yourself- the worst of humanity. Fuck 'em." Mark pulls into a long driveway of an old abandoned school building, driving his car around the back and parking in the grass, out of sight from the road. You can see broken windows, glass scattered around the entrances, and brick walls splashed with colourful graffiti.

He turns off the engine of his car, and then turns fully to you.

"Come on. You wanna find out what you really think?"

Mark has a key to the back door, and the rusted lock opens with an imposing click. Even with the key, it feels like you shouldn't be here. A sense of foreboding edges your awareness, and you can tell the medication is starting to wear off by how deeply you're unsettled in this atmosphere. You seem to be entering through an administration sector of small back offices.

The building smells of mildew and grease, of rust and water damage. As he enters the hallway, Hoffman flips a series of switches just to the left of the entry, which light the narrow back hallways in an uncanny florescence. If not for the light, you would have thought this place was abandoned.

Something bad has happened here, or is happening here.

"Follow me," he murmurs, and with confident strides, he leads you through the administration section and out into the main hallway of the school. You trail behind him quietly, wondering if you would be able to navigate your way out of this building again if you were left here.

He takes you up an old metal stairway, and then into a large room which you can tell used to be a library. Compared to the other parts of the building you've seen, this room is much better kept, clear of rubble and debris. Someone's taken the time to clear it out, at least mostly. Old bookshelves stand empty, and a series of round tables in the room now hold various pieces of equipment.

It's been turned into a workshop, you realize.

Blueprints are spread across the tables, along with a number of cassette tapes and what appears to be recording equipment. A large black television is set up on a TV cart near the front of the room, with wires connecting to a receiver of some kind.

Resting on one of the tables, contrasting so severely with the rest of the equipment on it, there's an old, faded teddy bear.

"See that?" Mark says, pointing to the toy. "I wanna know what kind of a read you get on it."

"Why do I feel like this isn't going to be fun?" You murmur anxiously, but you do as he instructs, approaching the table and picking up the bear. Turning it over in your hands, you close your eyes, and allow the feelings to creep up onto you.

You were right. Something bad happened here.

There was a little boy, no older than six, you think, who had held onto the bear so tightly. You feel his confusion, more than anything else at first. What had he done wrong? Why was his teacher so angry?

Why did it hurt so much?

Pain flashes through you, bright and sharp, from your elbow to your shoulder. You cringe, still holding the bear, trying to piece together what had happened to the boy. You can feel his fear, pure and unrestrained, making you shake.

"Got it?" Mark asks, and you realize he's come up to stand right behind you. He leans over you, his chest nearly touching your back, and speaks low, directly into your ear. It makes you shiver for a different reason. "Now, open your eyes. Watch."

Holding up a remote beside you, you open your eyes to watch as he clicks on the television with it. It crackles to life, and it takes you a second before you register what you're looking at, through the static of what appears to be a live feed.

A man that you would guess is in his mid-60's is restrained to a chair in an abandoned classroom, each of his arms fastened into metal contraptions. Something large is attached to the back of the chair, almost looking like an industrial turtle shell.

"Holy shit," you breathe, your eyes going wide. You drop the teddy bear in shock at what you're seeing, as the man begins to yell for help and writhe in the chair, trying to free his arms

"No, hold onto it," Mark says into your ear, reaching around you. Placing his hands on top of yours, he guides your touch back to the bear, his chest now fully flush against your back.

As you touch the toy again, the impressions come back, stronger this time. Not just the boy, but others as well. Left alone, trapped somewhere, difficult to breathe- suffocating in darkness. Where is my mom, I want my mom-

Anger begins to churn inside of you, so thick and strong it sickens you. You grit your teeth as you stare at the screen.

"Hello, Martin," A distorted voice says. Jigsaw. You can't see the TV from the camera's vantage point, but you can see the person in the chair whip his head toward the sound. "I want to play a game."

The man on the screen whimpers. "No, no, no," he moans.

"You worked at this school for almost three decades before they finally fired you. There were never any charges laid. But there were rumours for years about how you took out your rage on those who couldn't fight back."

You can feel the tears starting to well in your eyes as you stare up at the screen, transfixed in horror. The kids weep and scream in your mind like ghosts, begging to tell you how they suffered.

"You called it your isolation room. A closet hideaway, barely larger than a cardboard box. How many children did you force to stay there, curled up and injured for hours, for the sake of discipline?"

"It was a mistake!" The man yells out, voice breaking, "Please, I'm sorry, I was doing my best-"

"You have two minutes to press down on the peddles under your feet. Doing so will tear away the top layer of skin from your hands, degloving them. Keep your feet pressed down until the process is finished. Once your hands have been degloved, you will be able to pull them from the machine and press the buttons releasing you from the chair."

The man wails in misery. Mark Hoffman rests his chin on your shoulder, and you can feel his eyes watching the footage with you, so intently. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his large, rough hands over yours. The terror and anguish of the children, the shrieking of the man in the trap. It makes you dizzy.

"If you fail to do so before the time runs out, spikes will emerge from the contraption on your back, impaling you. Now we will see how disciplined you are."

The man gasps, and then, as the timer begins to tick down, begins to scream in earnest. You watch as he presses his foot down on the pedal, feeling the reverberation of his panic bounce back onto you.

"I can't do this," you say, squeezing your eyes shut, your nails digging into the fabric of the toy. Your head pounds with the echoes of the children crying, with their shame and embarrassment and panic, and with the howling screams of the man on the screen. It all layers, in a cacophonous symphony of violence and horror that drowns out all other thought.

"It's too much, it's so loud. I can't think, I- I need to shut it out." With one hand letting go of the toy, you dig into your jacket pocket, fishing for your prescription bottle.

"No, no," Mark snaps. He grabs your wrist, tight, and snatches the bottle of painkillers. "No more fucking pills. Watch."

"It's too much," you whisper, wincing. Your mind screams, unable to make sense of all of the information it's taking in. You need to think about this, but all you can do is feel, overstimulated and shaking-

"Detective. I don't think you've introduced me to your friend."

The dry voice cuts through everything else. You realize the screaming has stopped. When you open your eyes again, you see someone has paused the feed on the television.

It isn't live.

Mark freezes, his body immediately going stiff behind you. Although you've never heard this voice before, you recognize it all the same. You drop the teddy bear, as Mark removes his hand from your wrist and steps back away from you. The removal of the warmth of his body leaves yours feeling colder than before.

"Uh oh. You're in trouble," A second voice chimes in, sing-song and clearly elated that you've been caught here, together.

You're hoping Mark will say something on your behalf, but he doesn't. Your head pounds, and your skin feels almost too-sensitive, but if your intuition has ever told you anything, it's that this is not the time to fall apart.

So you turn, looking at the source voices, and muster up all of the courage you can. You are proud that your voice wavers only a little.

"Um. Hello. Jigsaw, and... Amanda Young, I assume." You cast a furtive glance at Mark, who finally seems to have recovered and composed himself, standing up straighter.

John Kramer sits in a wheelchair, wearing a long black and red robe that trails on the ground. Amanda stands behind him with her hands on the handles of the wheelchair, leaning her weight on it

Nothing about John Kramer suggests that he is weak or feeble to you, despite his thin frame and poor health. Instead, you sense a chessmaster, and a conqueror sits before you, a King in a throne. You get the image of a strategist who has been leading his troops through a war, claiming victory after victory through careful battlefield positioning.

"I can explain," Mark says slowly, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Oh, I'm listening," Kramer replies, tilting his head slightly and watching you carefully. His tone is curious and measured, and you sense that he's already re-arranging his plans in his mind, re-evaluating them and trying to determine how you're going to affect things. If he's angry with Hoffman, you can't tell.

"I wanted to test them myself, before I told you, in case it ended up being a waste of time," Hoffman says, shooting a glance at you, "I've never met someone so good at reading people. Except maybe you."

"You've got to be kidding," Amanda says, nearly laughing, "So you took them here, and showed them the footage from our last game? I knew you were an idiot, but this is really next level."

"We already abandoned this place as a workshop," Mark gestures to the TV, sounding irritated, "I sure as hell wasn't going to leave any evidence lying around after I took them home. Place would have been cleared out by tomorrow morning."

"And if they, oh, you know- reported you? Told someone?" Amanda asks. Mark looks like he's about to argue back at her, but John holds up a hand.

"I know you're smart enough not to take unnecessary risks, especially with your identity. But you should have brought this to my attention immediately," John says to Mark. Hoffman actually grimaces, like a kid being scolded.

John turns his attention to you, in cold and calculating interest, "What do you have to say?"

Cherish your life, the wind whispers in your ear. Right now, your life felt pretty fucking cherished, in the it-is-literally-on-the-line sense.

"I guessed that Detective Hoffman was one of your accomplices a few weeks ago," You answer, hoping that you're not going to talk yourself into a corner, "Not that I had any proof, but...he's been keeping a close eye on me, since then."

"And why haven't you gone to the police?" John asks, critical. The big question. Something urges you to just lay all of your cards out on the table.

"I don't... know, to be honest. Sometimes, things just come to me. Pieces of information, like drops of rain before a storm," John looks at you in interest, waiting silently, so you continue. "I feel like... the first one was personal, right? Like tiger stripes across the face, rough, rudimentary, righteous. He took something from you. Like the sun going out," You look at Mark. "The two of you are similar, like that."

Amanda and John stare at you, and you're worried you've said too much. Maybe you shouldn't have called his engineering rudimentary. You clear your throat, and shuffle your weight from one foot to the other.

"Interesting," Jigsaw remains expressionless, tone dispassionate. He looks at Mark's hand, still clenched around your prescription bottle, "...And the pills?"

You swallow. "Dampeners," you answer simply. He nods, like he understands, somehow. Amanda snaps her attention from you, to Mark, to John, like she can't believe what's happening. She makes a noise of clear protest.

"Come here, for a moment," Jigsaw says. You very much do not want to do that, but with Amanda glowering at you, you don't feel like you have much of a choice.

You walk over until you stand in front of him, heart hammering in your chest. With a hand, he beckons you to lean down, closer. Amanda looks just about ready to leap over his chair and strangle you.

As you lean in closer, you feel a prick on your neck. You look down to see John holding a needle, sticking it into your skin. He pushes an unknown liquid into your body.

"Oh," you say simply. Should have seen that coming.

The room goes dark.

---

When you wake up, you have gone from being in a bad situation to a much, much worse situation.

Somehow, you can sense that you were unconscious for a very long time. Now, though, you are wide awake, with adrenaline beginning to flood your body. Good- you're going to need it.

The first thing you register is that your eyes are very dry. The reason for this is immediately clear: your eyelids are being held open by a metal optician's speculum. You glance around your dark surroundings frantically in silent terror, unable to move your head. Some kind of a warehouse? No- a gymnasium. The school.

You can't move your body, either. You seem to be suspended in the air- how high up, you can't say- with your arms and legs locked into some kind of device. The height makes you nervous enough that you don't try to squirm.

Fuck. Stay calm. This is a Jigsaw game, which means there's a way out of it.

As you look back up above you, you can just make out through the darkness large jug of something positioned directly over your head. You catch the scent of something pungent and acidic.

It is becoming significantly harder to stay calm.

Below you, off to the side of the room, a television crackles to life.

"Hello," Jigsaw's voice says, addressing you by name, "I want to play a game." You can't see him, but you can imagine the puppet. Is the voice John's, Mark's or Amanda's through that modulation? You can't tell.

"You have been given a gift. A unique way of seeing the world. But you turn reject this strength. You silence it with painkillers, living in a wilful ignorance when you could know so much more."

So if it's John, someone has told him more about you. You wiggle your fingers. In each of your hands, there is some kind of device with a switch. Never a good sign.

"In your hands are two switches. By flipping each the switches, a single drop of acid will drop into your eyes, blinding you permanently. If you do not do so within two minutes, the restraints on your arms and legs will release, and you will be dropped in a tub of acid. I assure you, you will not survive."

Whimpering softly, the panic bubbles up in your chest, making it hard for you to catch your breath. It's much more difficult to turn inward and rely on your intuition with your eyes pried open- and maybe that was by design. If you could only shut them for a moment, then maybe your intuition could help you find a different way out of this.

"Will you embrace your gifts permanently by blinding yourself? Or will you die in ignorance? This is your test. Make your choice."

As the timer begins to tick, time seems to slow. You think of your mother's hands, holding you under the water, and the last words she said to you before she attempted to drown you.

Life is full of pain and bad people. She was right about that. You think of the kids from the school, forced to wait alone, curled up in the dark by their teacher. You think of Mark Hoffman, who delighted in the teacher's suffering.

You think of your cat Prawn, curled up by your head, and of the last time you grabbed lunch with Allison.

But she was wrong. Life is worth living, regardless.

You aren't going to fucking die here, alone. Not because of Jigsaw.

You flick the switches in your hands.

True to his word, the last thing you see are two drops of liquid, dripping down from above you into your eyes.

You scream as the acid burns you. You scream and you scream, until your voice breaks and your throat aches. You can smell the horrible scent of the acid burning your eyes, and hear something moving beneath you. A machine powers down, and you're slowly and gently lowered to the ground, no pool of acid waiting to swallow you whole.

When the restraints release your hands and feet, you rip the speculum out of your eyes, moaning in pain as you shut them and clutch at them. You curl into yourself, into a ball on the cold ground, and try not to cry.

And then, as you lie there in the dirt, panting and moaning, your awareness explodes. Your sixth sense replaces your fifth and crystallizes, smoothing out and filling in the gaps.

When you hear feet running to you, you already know whose they are. Detective Mark Hoffman, followed by Allyson Kerry. Detective Rigg isn't far behind.

You don't need to see to know.

"Kerry! Get over here, now!" Mark's voice barks out. You feel him lean in close to you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and holding you to his chest.

"You did it," he murmurs into your ear, only for you to hear, "You fucking did it. I knew you'd win."

You reach out, clinging to him. It still feels comforting. It still feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

---

yes. I accidentally nuked my blog. 🥲 but thank you for the support on this fic series! I would love to hear what you think- comments help me figure out what people are enjoying about the fics and what people want to see more of 💕

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban

NEXT CHAPTER

#mark hoffman #slasher fic #saw franchise #slasher x reader #saw movies #sawposting #costas mandylor #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman x oc #my writing

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persnicketypomelo · 7 months

Text

obsession, vampires, supernatural abilities, mentions of biting

Special Halloween series

Vampire Erik Headcanons

Going for a more general approach, but pulling mostly from the book

Erik already exhibits many…nocturnal qualities as it is, even without adding any supernatural elements

He is not all too keen on sunlight; lives far below the opera house in isolation from society; prefers to lurk, unseen, in the dark

His skin is sickly and lifeless, weathered like parchment, and his skeletal frame struggles to fill the clothes he wears

Even in the book, he seems never to need to eat or drink

He even sleeps in a coffin!

If anything, being a vampire makes Erik’s every eccentricity connect naturally

Erik rarely feeds as he prefers to keep to himself in the solitude of his dwelling

But when the need eventually strikes, he makes a great event of it, wandering to the surface at nightfall, selecting his target with deliberation

He generally tries to target those who would not be missed from the world: traffickers, evildoers, the corrupt

Though he is by no means a force of good in any way

The phantom is careful not to drink from those in the opera house

As it stands, his relationship with the workers and management is strained at best, even before the new managers come along

The last thing he wants is to egg even more fools into pestering him and attempting to flush him out more than they already do

But in the case of unfortunate stragglers who wander into his domain of their own volition…

Well, let’s say his policy of not feeding from the members of the opera house can be overlooked in these…extenuating circumstances

When Joseph Bouquet’s body was found, dangling from a rope, curiously, two inexplicable punctures in the side of his neck were present as well

And when it comes to you...

His hands quiver at touching you, not only due to depravity of human contact, but also from a vast, irrepressible desire for your blood

Despite his gaunt frame, his vampiric nature grants him supernatural strength

His hand shudders with restraint, knowing that he could easily break you if he is not careful, knowing that he could lose control if his thirst clouds his reason

I think this version of Erik would be more patient and restrained than the normal iteration of himself

Age and wisdom mellows out his more extreme tendencies

Furthermore, the extreme speed, strength, and hunger means he has had to develop the maturity to curb his emotional outbursts, as indulging them could wreak havoc

Even with all the comparative wisdom this vampiric version of Erik has garnered, he is still so helplessly allured to your youth and innocence

And if you show acceptance and empathy not only towards his physical flaws, but also to his supranatural side...

Needless to say, the Phantom is beyond smitten, harbouring an obsession too fiery and intense to even possibly contain

Being the object of his fixation is even more dire for you with this version of Erik

His heightened senses can easily catch wind of your position, smelling your trail with the ease of a bloodhound

You have no hope of outrunning him, overpowering him, or even the permanence of his death

If escaping the human version of the Phantom seems a nigh impossible task, then it will take a divine miracle to escape vampire Erik

It is best for your own sake that you avoid ever attracting his interest

Else live the rest of your life by the side of an immortal being with no possibility of escape

#x reader #reader insert #phantom of the opera #erik destler #obsessive #yandere #gaston leroux #phantom of the opera x reader #headcanons #erik phantom #vampire #halloween #all hallows eve

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vroomvroomwee · 8 months

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The way Good Omens shows us how unhealthy and detrimental going to the extreme can be. Because look at it.

It's full with contrast. Angel demon. Witchfinder witch. Children against the literal manifestation of death and destruction. Heaven Hell. Etc. Even Crowley and Aziraphale's, as well as Nina and Maghie's, personalities differ from each other.

And especially if you look at Crowley and Aziraphale.

Crowley recognises the system is corrupt and wants to leave it that way, to abandon it. And in some sense he's right. It can't be saved. But that's not a reason to always look the other way and run. Aziraphale meanwhile consistently denies it until he can't anymore. Time and time again he puts his faith in the system which could be the end of him. He's courageous and hopeful that he can save Heaven and fix the system even though the mission is in vain. Neither of them are in the right. One wants to fix the unfixable, the other wants to abandon the inevitable.

One has lost all his faith in the system, while the other refuses to let go of it. Aziraphale, determined to save Heaven, to save the Earth, to save Gabriel, to save Job's children nearly kills himself and hurts Crowley along the way. And Crowley, in his eagerness to escape and find happiness independently from the Earth, pushes Aziraphale away and nearly leaves the world to be destroyed. One goes too fast, and speed runs through life, while the other clings to memories and the past. Neither of them being in the present. Neither of them meeting in the middle.

Which is precisely why Armaggedon was stopped, not by the Good side, or the Bad side, but by a human. A human not exposed to this polarity, but who's seen both Good and Bad and is himself a mixture of both. Adam represents humanity in all its flaws and virtues and saves it in the end. While Heaven and Hell, so convinced in their own purpose and goal, so convinced in their own purity/wickedness lead to the destruction of the Earth.

Paralleling Aziraphales and Crowleys argument, both of them going to the extreme, and ending up breaking their relationship.

The entire point of having a demon that isn't even remotely evil, and having an angel that isn't completely without sin, is to show that going to the extreme is nigh impossible. No one can truly be good and no one can truly be evil. "When Heaven ends life on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it." Both Heaven and Hell so determined to win and defeating the other side, to prove their own righteousness or wickedness, because they believe Heaven and Hell can't coexist, only one must emerge as the victor, so determined that they end up destroying the entire world, meanwhile being no more virtuous or corrupt than the other side.

And on the same note, Heaven and Hell can't exist without the other. "You can't be truly good unless you have the opportunity to be truly wicked." Without Hell, Heaven loses its meaning, and vice versa. They need the existence of the other, which proves that going to the extreme is impossible and would only result in pain and suffering. They need each other to balance each other out, they need the middle ground, the gray area. Whether it be shades of light grey or dark grey.

Now connect that to Aziraphale and Crowley. It's no coincidence that they managed to stop the Apocalypse TOGETHER, both of them on each of Adam's shoulders, converging both good and bad, which they both hold in various shades, together. And only together could they hope to stop the Second Coming.

They "need each other." Aziraphale needs Crowley just as Crowley needs Aziraphale. "Cancel each other out." No... BALANCE each other out. It's no wonder Warlock grew up into a demon child who nearly killed everyone at his birthday party (the book) and trashed the entire place. Because Aziraphale and Crowley were going AGAINST each other, and it was driving Warlock wild. The boy couldn't possibly be truly virtuous or truly evil, so he ends up a mess. Aziraphale and Crowley were going to the extreme and created something that wrecks and destroys.

They need to work together. And my guess is that saving the world in season 3 entails them to bring Heaven and Hell together. To find the middle ground. "Heaven and Hell against humanity." Because if Heaven and Hell continue on like this, there would never be peace on Earth. Just as Crowley and Aziraphale have to come together to fix their relationship.

#good omens #goodomens #aziraphale #crowley #goodomenss2 #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #goodomenss2spoilers #extremes #heaven #hell #heaven and hell

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meadowscarlet · 2 years

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cinnamon girl ━━━ kaz brekker.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader.

summary: everyone had their own dark history that formed them into a foreboding person, and kaz was no exception; he had his fair share of demons, but he was itching to discover about yours and why you loathe the feeling of touch as much as he did but seek solace from him.

warnings: mentions of abuse and brief spoilers of kaz's backstory.

author’s note: i know i said i won't repost my old fics but i'm currently in a writing block and can't post anything so have this plus i missed kaz. do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

Ketterdam is not a pleasant and welcoming city. In the filthy, morally repugnant, and dangerous place, battered and wounded individuals on the verge of death, criminals, thieves, and sinners were discovered. The city had corrupted the people with its savagery, where compassion and benevolence are seen as vulnerabilities, and it was irredeemable, tainting the citizens with the city's unrighteousness.

The Crows were no exception. They were also impacted by the darkness that Ketterdam had plagued them with; regardless of how young they were, whether a girl or a boy, they would be painted with the city's malice. Everyone had their own demons, something dreadful had occurred to them—it didn't matter what it was, for the demons and the city had shaped them into a person with a dark heart and a desire for cruelty.

Kaz had personal knowledge with this. He had been altered, like so many others, by the vile city's relentless brutality. With his sinister demeanor, or his lethal cane, where he might break a leg, or change a man's fortune, he was known as Dirtyhands. People feared him, and some had always wondered what had happened to Kaz Brekker to make him so merciless.

Of course, everything remained a mystery since no one dared to cross Kaz, including the Crows who were usually with him. They didn't want to meet death by Brekker's gloved hands just yet, even though they were plainly intrigued about the cunning yet deadly thief. The tragedy that transformed Kaz into the person he is today remained hidden, and others speculated that the city had done nothing to him and that he was born wicked.

They were not corrected by Kaz.

Matthias refers to him as demjin, which means demon in Fjerdan. It didn't bother Kaz; they could call him whatever they wanted; at the very least, they'd know he wasn't someone to tamper with. After all, he had a reputation to uphold, and if people feared him, then so be it. Kaz enjoyed the feeling of authority and domination among fools, and he relished seeing people's terror whenever he was near.

He was certain that he was born with a terribly malevolent nature. That perhaps the shadows had been there all along, seething inside only to become stronger when the feeling of vengeance overwhelmed him after a life full of treachery and violence, after Jordie's death and everything else that had made Kaz miserable before. He had his own darkness, but it was at odds with yours.

How did you wind up with him and the Crows in Ketterdam?

Kaz remembered the day he first met you as if it had been scorched into his mind. Your hair was escaping out of its hair tie, framing your face in a frenetic and wild yet compelling way. You appeared to be running, your movements swift and efficient; you seemed to be young, similar to Kaz's age, yet there was still a youthful simplicity in you, one that he had lost a long time ago, buried in the waters and deepest depths of it.

He might have gone about his business; after all, the last thing on his mind was a girl, agitated and wounded amidst the city of Ketterdam's well-known lack of morality. To Kaz, it's a common sight, one that would even amuse him, but when he first saw you, there was something unusual about you. He didn't feel sorry for you but you seemed to be a fresh face, and Kaz Brekker must know everyone in the city. He needed to keep a watchful eye on everyone, especially any potential enemies.

On a dreary night in Ketterdam, where Kaz could hear the same rattling noises and smell the foul stench of blood and sins outside, he focused instead on the kruge on his table. He was counting everything carefully and silently, and when he heard the familiar faint footsteps, he didn't stop. Kaz didn't look up at the person, instead continuing to stare at the kruge as if it were about to vanish from his grasp.

After a brief pause, he finally looked up.

He wasn't surprised to see her. “Hello, Inej.”

Inej approached Kaz, who was standing behind the table, and gave him a distinctive nod as he looked down and arranged the kruge on the table. Her movements were light and stealthy, like the Wraith she was and Kaz suspected she had something to tell him. Inej only came to his office when she had something important to tell Kaz.

“I’m hoping you're not here to waste my time,” Kaz remarked, his voice flat and uninterested as usual. “Any valuable information?”

“It's about the girl,” Inej started.

Kaz made a gesture of paying attention to her, but he was still gazing down at his money. “Girl?”

He could hear Inej's footsteps getting closer until she was directly across from him. “The one you said I should look into to find out who she is.”

For the first time since Inej went to his office, Kaz looked up with a gleam of pure interest in his dark eyes. “I'm listening.”

“She's a fresh face in the city—I once followed her on her way and discovered she lived near an elderly couple's bakery. She is new here in Ketterdam, and I hadn't heard about her until you told me to keep an eye on her,” Inej stated passively. “But, she is skillful. She was in a frenzy as she realized I was following her, so she became alarmed and attacked me.”

Kaz became increasingly intrigued. “Tell me you didn't kill her.”

Inej's dark eyes were frowning, but behind her mask and the darkness, Kaz couldn't see her entire face. “I didn't and I wouldn't,” she said bluntly, as if the answer was self-evident. “She's brilliant, and despite being new to Ketterdam, she's already proven her potential.”

“What is her name?”

“Y/N L/N.” Inej replied. “Why the sudden interest in her?”

“Always be cautious of new people; they are unaccustomed with the ambience of Ketterdam, and it is wiser to get to know them before they identify themselves,” Kaz counseled. “She may be destructive, but based on what you said, she's entirely harmless.”

Inej shook her head, disbelieving. “Did the word ‘skillful’ escape your notice?”

Kaz wore a vacant smile. “I heard you just fine.”

“Kaz,” she said, her voice warning. “What are your intentions with her?”

“I won't kill her, if that's what you're wondering.”

Inej's eyes glowed with understanding, and Kaz battled the impulse to roll his eyes; why did it take her so long to realize?

Inej remarked, “You're recruiting her in the Dregs.”

Kaz only wore a pleased expression.

You had adjusted well once you were recruited in the Dregs. Kaz remembered how, to his astonishment, a gun greeted his temple when he walked inside a small, cluttered space that he knows you call home. He followed Inej's directions, and your small abode was definitely close to the bakery run by an elderly couple. He could still remember the smell of the lingering pastries even in the middle of a wretched place you called home.

Kaz could see the survival instinct you implemented in your small home where there was collected foods, knives placed on the couch, and a blanket applied as a cover for the windows, and he observed his fascination with your cautiousness. You only let go of the gun after he assured you that he meant no harm and that he had a proposition for you.

That's how it all began. When Inej indicated you were competent, she was right. With the jobs Kaz had given you, you were swift and clever, as well as flawless. Perhaps your accomplishments were a way of repaying Kaz for providing you with a secure place to sleep and have a modest shelter. Not only that, but you'd formed close friendships with the Barrel's employees, particularly the Crows.

You were particularly fond of Inej. The one-time attack and brief fight against one another became a laughing memory as you both reminisced about it whenever you had the opportunity. There was no scorching animosity between you two, and you became inseparable as the days passed. Kaz remembered you blabbering your apologies to Inej after stabbing her in the leg when you realized she was following you. Inej could only chuckle heartily.

Matthias seemed to like you, much to Kaz's great shock, and he could see how you both chatted and spoke about things after each heist. Nina had mentioned that it was mundane at job when it was just her and Inej as the girls, and you were a wonderful addition. She had been pushing Kaz to make you a Crow for a while, but Kaz thought you weren't ready. You were only needed on occasion, not every time they pulled off a job.

You bonded well with Wylan as well, but Kaz sensed your apprehension towards Jesper. Kaz was initially perplexed; Jesper was a naturally cheerful person, and everyone seemed to enjoy his company. Not that you dreaded it, rather Kaz could always recall your laughter whenever Jesper cracked a joke—a laugh he grew terribly fond of.

Jesper, on the other hand, is far too friendly, and Kaz would be lying if he said he didn't notice the dread expression on your face whenever someone came close to you or when Jesper put his elbow on your shoulder.

Kaz began to observe you more intently after seeing that, as if he hadn't already. He believed he had made the right decision in recruiting you. You were special, enthusiastic, and the light of the Barrel. Kaz didn't think you'd fit in well with the city's grim environment at first, and he didn't want you to get further corrupted by the violence.

But Kaz had entirely overlooked and dismissed what had transpired to you and how you had landed up in Ketterdam.

Every day, Kaz's inexplicable fondness for you grew stronger. You and Kaz have a contentious relationship; unlike the rest of the Crows, you didn't necessarily converse and blabber to him, nor did you laugh and tease with him like you did with Inej and Jesper, but there was a wordless distinctive connection between you and Kaz.

Your patience and presence were the attributes he admired the most in you. Kaz wasn't easy to talk to or even tolerate—he's closed off and harsh—but whatever nonsense Saints Inej believed in seemed to bring you to Ketterdam to soften his roughness. In his world of darkness, Kaz didn't believe in miracles or light, but you were there, proving that there is still some good in the world.

Kaz had intended to fire you at that time.

He had questioned Inej about your misfortune and how you ended up in Ketterdam. Inej only shook her head and mumbled something about your past being none of her business. You were shut off as well, but unlike Kaz, you shine with gentleness and radiance, masking whatever darkness you may have. Matthias would grumble under his breath whenever you greeted Kaz in the morning with a big smile.

Matthias had once growled, “The demjin doesn't deserve such pleasant smiles.”

You only shook your head, as delicate and gentle as you were. “Even if it's seldom or undeserved, everyone deserves a little bit of decency.”

That's when Kaz realized you were mistaken. He didn't deserve such remedy from you—you and him had a routine where you'd read a book in his office or simply admire the moon and stars at night, the moonlight shining in your face and making you look stunning. There was no talking, just stillness. Kaz was always busy making plans and would occasionally glance at you.

Your very presence made him feel calmer, and whenever you came to visit his office, which had previously been dark, was replaced with a strange sense of peace. Kaz was hesitant to make you a Crow for a reason, selfish if it was. He didn't want to expose you completely to his enemies, risking you being wounded or worse, killed. He knows you're talented and all, but he let his vanity get the best of him, and to his horror, his worry.

He valued your tranquility, but he also sought your voice—he wanted you to talk excitedly about anything, and if your silence had soothed him, what more could your voice possibly have done? But maybe it was all one-sided, and you're only there with Kaz because you owe him courtesy, and maybe you've never liked him, and you're just doing this benevolence to him to act with integrity.

Kaz wouldn't blame you.

Kaz despised weakness, and he knew he couldn't just have you rot in the streets, no matter how he felt—and he questioned why he was feeling anything at all. He was ruthless, but he didn't want to hurt someone who had been nothing but pleasant and selfless. He didn't want to take away your friendship or the comfort you found in the Barrel.

He did not want you to go.

Kaz was disturbed by the thought.

Everyone was fast asleep, exhausted from the job they had just completed, so they chatted and ate waffles—Nina's suggestion—to calm their anxieties before retiring to their various rooms. Only the Crows were required for the job, and Kaz had assumed you were probably sleeping in your room as he lingered at the table with Jesper, who was elated from the successful completion of the job.

To Kaz's relief, Jesper yawned and stood up, but before walking away, he stopped and beamed even brighter and exclaimed, “Y/N!”

Kaz took a look around and spotted you. You approached them with a relieved expression on your face, a book in your hand, and no indication of drowsiness on your face. You gave a small smile as you met Kaz's gaze, which had not left yours, and then turned to face Jesper.

Jesper shifted his gaze between you and Kaz, then back to you, and Kaz swore he glimpsed a smirk on the Zemeni's face. “I'll talk to you tomorrow, gorgeous,” he says, “I’m exhausted, goodnight.”

Kaz watched Jesper approaching you and saw him about to hug you before deciding against it and giving you a wink before passing you by. It made Kaz frown.

“Aren't you tired?” you began as you sat across from him, helping yourself to the last waffles.

Kaz noticed this was the start of a conversation—he expected you to be silent as you eat and enjoy each other's company, but you spoke to him, and to his chagrin, a tightrope in his stomach loosened and made him feel relaxed.

“Why aren't you asleep yet?”

Your eyes squinted when the topic shifted, but you shrugged it off. “I wasn't tired.”

“That makes it the both of us.”

Kaz sat back and enjoyed your chuckle. The sounds it made were like a stack of kruge tumbling from his table. He was trying to memorize the cadence of your laugh. He shook his head, hating the thoughts that overwhelm him, but he couldn't help himself—it was only you and him, in the middle of the night, and there was no silence.

“No one got hurt?” you muttered as you bit into your waffle.

“We're fine,” Kaz said, pleased as he saw your eyes brighten. “The job was successful.”

Kaz has a keen ability to read people and can tell you were worried, which could explain why you weren't asleep. You had been waiting for their arrival. Or maybe it was just the other Crows and not him and Kaz didn't realize he was staring until you said spoke.

“I know questions are etched on your face,” you said. implying that he wasn't the only one who can easily read people. “What is it, Kaz?”

He was taking a risk, but he couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging him since the first time he saw you. “How did you end up in Ketterdam?”

You remained silent for a moment, staring down at your waffle, before speaking softly enough for Kaz to mistake it for a faint hum. “I… wanted a way out.”

He almost laughed. “What could be worse than Ketterdam?”

You raised your eyes to Kaz, your expression solemn, the brightness that had warmed him faded. “Believe it or not, Ketterdam has seemed like home to me. It's the closest thing I've ever felt to refuge here, despite the fact that it's brutal. It was the first time I felt secure.”

The first time? Kaz thought.

“The people, too,” you continued, “Inej, Nina, Jesper, Matthias, Wylan. And… you Kaz.”

“What happened to you, Y/N?” Kaz struggled to hide his uneasiness in his tone. “Has anyone ever treated you with such safety and tranquility?”

“No,” you said softly and unsteadily. “You were the first who ever did.”

Kaz noticed tears threatening to spill from your eyes and decided he couldn't bear you being so vulnerable—it wasn't like you. “Talk to me, L/N.”

“When my mother left when I was six, my father became sorrowful, unhappy, and enraged, and he let all of his aggression out on me,” you explained, your voice strained. “He does things to me that no parent should ever do to their child.”

Kaz was filled with a searing and inexplicable rage. But he kept his cool by clutching his cane tightly in his hands, as if striving to maintain composure. He listened intently as you spoke, satisfied that you had put your trust in him to speak about something that had been a lingering memory. He observed you playing with your hands at the table, the waffle long forgotten.

His voice was like a promise of violence. “Why?”

You shrugged, a small, pained smile on your face. “People end up doing things they don't want to do, but sometimes they can't do anything to stop it. My father had no one else to release his frustrations on, so he did it to me, and after that, he'd apologize and hug me while crying.”

Kaz felt compelled to say something to you since you had put your trust in him, and it was only fair that he reciprocated it. “I had never been treated with kindness and tenderness by anyone. You were also the first one who did.”

“I owe you, Kaz.”

“You owe me nothing,” Kaz immediately responded.

“You saved my life,” you said.

Kaz locked his gaze on you, seeking to grasp the details of whatever it was he was enamored of. “I'd do it all over again. I can't guarantee you peace or liberty, but you will never be treated the way your father treated you. I won't let it happen.”

It was then that you both realized that when the day ended and night came, you would seek one other's solace. Two souls that had their own painful memories and had never known serenity before connected and shared it.

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