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wreckedandpolemic · 1 day

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screwed up and brilliant - matty healy

(mdni) in which your whirlwind summer takes a turn you never could have predicted. part two of white and gold. 16185 words.

warnings (here we go): daddy kink (obvs), phone sex, authority kink, roleplay, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!matty, spanking, semi-public sex, gagging, oral (f receiving), mentions of anal, vague allusions to parental fuckery

The singular thought circling through your head the entire way home is what the fuck. If it weren’t for the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your thighs and your embarrassing lack of underwear, you’d believe you dreamt the whole thing. You stop the taxi a little ways down your street, trying not to draw attention to yourself returning from your unbelievable night. It’s not like your parents would know exactly where you’ve been, but you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of getting caught coming home from a hookup.

It turns out you didn’t need to worry, though, your footsteps echoing through an empty house as you let yourself in the back. Checking your phone for the first time since you left the dinner with Matty, critically low battery and a text from your mother flash up at you. We’ve gone out for lunch at the Dove. Love you x, the text informs you, a sense of guilty relief washing over you. There’s few things you love more than your house being empty; your shoulders loose without your mother’s nervous, slightly oppressive energy and your father’s meaningful and disappointed glances. Your steps are light as you waltz up the stairs to your room, flinging open your wardrobe to start getting ready before you realise you don’t know what you should be dressing for.

You tip out your clutch onto the bed, business cards, lipgloss and a forgotten pair of earrings spilling on your sheets as you dig for Matty’s number. Tapping the keyboard idly, you try to think of a good opening message, inspiration striking as you catch sight of a discarded bra on your bedroom floor. You slip into a favourite set, black with gold detailing and leaving very little to the imagination, and pose in your bedroom mirror, texting the photo to Matty.

hi x

trying to get ready but i don’t know what to wear :( where are we going?

Fucking hell

Hi, pretty girl

You could wear that and I’d be a very happy man

yeah i bet you would

answer the question perv

I don’t want to spoil the surprise

if you don’t tell me im changing

Fine

Brat

It’s nice but relaxed

Youre not dressing for dinner its not that hard

rude

pick me up in an hour ;)

You turn back to your wardrobe with a groan — what the fuck does he mean by nice but relaxed? A skirt and a nice top? Heels or no heels? What are you supposed to do with your hair? Leafing through your clothes, you find a green sundress tucked away near the back, a vintage treasure you’d picked up at a market a few years ago and promptly forgotten about. By some stroke of luck, it fits perfectly, the skirt swirling gorgeously around your calves. Your reflection grins back at you as you dust on some makeup, finding a dangling pair of jade earrings to match.

Exactly on cue, your phone rings, flashing up Matty’s contact. “Hi, love. I’m outside — well, as close as I dare, anyway. I’m on a double yellow, actually. Risking my spotless driving record for you.”

You snort. “They’ve gone out, park in the drive. I’ll come to the door.” You pad down the stairs as Matty’s tyres crunch on the gravel outside. Smoothing down your hair nervously, you take a deep breath, the blurry outline of him visible through the stained glass of your front door. You swing the door open as Matty raises his fist to knock, giggling slightly at the way he stands, his hand hovering meaninglessly in midair.

His eyes blow wide as he takes you in, crowding you close in a split-second. “Hi, princess,” he grins, electricity tingling under your skin where he holds you by the waist, his body pressed against yours. “If nobody’s home, I can do this,” he breathes, catching your lips and kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth like a starving man.

After a long moment, you find the strength to push him away. “Matty, the neighbours!” you protest.

“Fine,” Matty says, walking you inside and kicking the door shut behind him. He pulls you back to him, catching your lips in a filthy kiss, a slide of lips and tongue, sticky with desire. Groaning into your mouth, his lips fall to your neck, pressing kisses over the concealed bruises on your neck. You can tell he wants to cover them, mark you up as his own, and you giggle as you push his head back.

“Do we have to go to lunch?” you tease. “They’re not gonna be back for hours.”

Matty pinches your ass through your skirt. “Needy girl. You’ll love the place, I promise.” Slowly, like it pains him, he lets go of you and steps back, eyes widening as he properly takes in the sight of you for the first time. “God, you look gorgeous, princess. You look like summer.” You flush, shifting on your feet and glancing at the floor. “Can’t believe I get to have you. You know everyone who sees you is gonna be fuckin’ jealous of me, gonna want my pretty girl for themselves?” He looks livid at the mere prospect, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

You giggle. “But I’ll be there with you. Why would I want anyone else?” you assure him, stretching up to kiss at the corners of his mouth until he cracks a smile. Your chest aches a little at the sight, a private moment of happiness stretching between you. You can almost see the path along with it, a brief flicker of a life with him dancing in your imagination before you swat it away.

Fuck, you’re in too deep. You’re hurtling towards a vast expanse of something, and you don’t even have the strength to look away. You can only hope the breakneck pace isn’t going to break your heart, too.

“That’s right,” Matty says, after what feels like an eternity. “All mine, yeah? Shall we?”

You nod, not yet trusting yourself to speak, and take his hand, sliding into the passenger seat of his car. The smell of clean leather envelops you, mixed with Matty’s now-familiar cigarettes and cologne smell. Matty’s hand lands on your thigh and traces absent circles as he reverses out of the drive. The streets roll by, rows of houses all merging together, your eyes glazing over while you avoid Matty’s gaze. “So pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “My pretty little passenger princess.”

“Does that mean you’ll drive me anywhere I want?” you tease, finally bringing your gaze back to Matty. The afternoon light casts him in a soft glow, his curls ruffling in the gentle breeze. He taps his fingers absently on the wheel, a sick thrill running through you as you remember feeling them on your skin, thighs clenching needily under his touch. You slide a hand between his legs, smirking at the hiss he lets out when you palm gently over his cock. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while,” you add teasingly, plying him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matty chuckles darkly and returns his other hand to the wheel, your skin impossibly cold in the absence his touch leaves behind. “You gonna get me off right here? In the car with the windows down? Such a naughty girl.” He inclines his head as if to say go on, calling your bluff, and you lower your gaze and return your hand to your lap, subdued. “That’s what I thought. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, princess.”

You shrug. “Wouldn’t want to taint your spotless driving record,” you tease, and he tips back his head and laughs, the sound filling the car and wrapping around you, your head going fuzzy with affection. A few minutes later, Matty puts the car in park, leaning over the centre console to kiss you. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumbing lightly over your cheek and smiling against your lips. Ever the gentleman, he comes to the passenger side to let you out, and you take his arm and let him lead you inside.

“Afternoon,” Matty greets the maître d’ with a polite smile. “Healy for two, one thirty?”

“Ah, yes, right this way, sir,” he says, his eyes flickering curiously over you as he leads you through the restaurant.

His gaze lands judgmentally on Matty when he tugs you into him by the waist, and you bristle, deliberately planting a kiss on his cheek as you walk. “Would you like to sit inside or outside?” the maître d’ asks in a tone that suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Can we sit outside, please? It’s such a nice day,” you say, and Matty grins indulgently down at you. He inclines his head at the maître d’, who leads you into the restaurant’s courtyard. Your jaw drops at the oasis you’ve suddenly found yourself in, lush green dotted through with glass tables, quiet chatter undercut with the splash of a dancing water fountain.

“This place is gorgeous,” you say as Matty pulls out your chair for you. “Do you come here a lot?”

He sees right through you, smirking over his menu. “I’ve never brought a girl here,” he tells you, answering the question you’re really asking.

“You keep saying that,” you say thoughtfully. “No bullshitting this time, what makes me so special?”

Matty meets your eyes, holding your gaze deadly serious. “I don’t date a lot, princess,” he tells you. “The girls that I… spend time with…” Your jaw clenches. “They’re not… Well, I need to feel a connection, you know? And I hadn’t felt it in a long time. I was kind of starting to give up hope,” he huffs a quiet laugh, a soft smile crossing his face when he speaks. “And then I met you, and I could just feel it.” He’s gazing adoringly at you, and you suddenly wonder if maybe it’s okay that you’re in too deep, because maybe, just maybe, he’s right there with you.

“Matty, I—”

��Good afternoon!” a bright, falsely cheery voice cuts in. “Are you both ready for drinks?”

Annoyed at the interruption, you purse your lips and address Matty. “I don’t know… What do you think I should get?” you grin, deliberately playing up the affection, leaning towards him and batting your lashes.

“I don’t know, darling. Are you feeling like wine?”

“I can come back,” the waitress says, all pretence at cheer abandoned as she taps her pencil against her notepad impatiently.

Rolling your eyes, you wave a hand at her. “No, stay. Just give me a minute to decide, ‘kay?” You scan the menu and deliberately order the most expensive rosé with a smirk in Matty’s direction. He shrugs, ordering himself a Malbec, and the waitress finally buzzes off.

It feels inappropriate to return to your conversation after the interruption, and you chuckle awkwardly. The breeze ripples in the silence between you, pulling clouds away from the sun so it shines directly into your eyes. Wincing, you shield your face, squinting in a way you’re sure is horrendously unattractive. Matty laughs softly. “Here you go, darling,” he says, pulling his sunglasses off his head and gently resting them on your face. “God, and here I thought you couldn’t get any prettier,” he adds, and you flush, picking at imaginary lint on your dress to avoid his gaze.

“Flatterer,” you scoff, kicking softly at his shin. “Thank you,” you add, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“S’nothing, princess. Keep ‘em, if you want.” Matty shrugs as if they’re inconsequential, and not a two hundred pound accessory. “Smoke?” he offers as you’re still reeling.

You nod, tilting your head quizzically. “Thought you didn’t want me ruining my lungs?” you tease, slipping the cigarette between your lips.

Matty chuckles. “It’s a beautiful day, you’re getting fresh air, your pretty lungs will survive one,” he teases, flicking his lighter under your cigarette as you take a deep drag.

His gaze lingers meaningfully on you as the smoke curls from your mouth and you squirm. “What?” you ask, desire evident in his eyes; he just keeps fucking staring.

He blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “God, you look fucking hot,” he adds with a chuckle. Just as you go to reply, the waitress returns with your drinks. You give a cursory thanks and take a long sip, full flavour swirling in your mouth. “You know, I wouldn’t have put you down as a dry wine kind of girl,” Matty remarks. “Sweet little thing like you.”

You flush the colour of your wine, but meet his gaze in challenge. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“I’d like to,” he says immediately, and you swallow thickly, his ability to disarm you frustratingly constant. He’s so fucking perfect, it’s actually disgusting. As you’re searching for a response, he perks up, tilting his head to tune into the song playing quietly over some unseen speaker. “Oh, man, I haven’t heard this song in forever,” he gasps, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “I was obsessed with this one when I was younger. Used to be on my band’s setlist and everything.”

Your jaw drops. “You were in a band?” you demand. “Were you any good?”

Matty chuckles. “I’d like to think so. S’a shame it didn’t pan out, really. I would’ve made a great rockstar, don’t you think?” he smirks, visions of Matty clad in a leather jacket, sweaty and gorgeous, crooning into a microphone swimming across your vision.

“Fuck, yeah. I’d have hated fighting your hordes of fangirls for your attention, though,” you sigh, and his grin widens as you stroke his ego. “Were you the guitarist?” you ask, memories of his calloused hands ghosting over your skin.

He scoffs, insulted. “I was the frontman, obviously.”

“Obviously,” you repeat, teasingly blowing smoke in his face as you stub out your cigarette. “But you still play?”

“Yeah,” Matty says, smiling wistfully, the expression taking years off him so clearly that you can almost see the ambitious, idealistic boy he must have been. You hope there’s a world where the band worked out for him, even if it means you’d never have met. “S’just a hobby, though,” he shrugs, interrupting your reverie. “You should hear my mate Hann, he’s fucking wicked.”

Taking a sip of your wine, you sigh meaningfully. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar.” You lean purposefully on the words, and Matty grins.

“You want me to teach you?”

You smile blithely. “Oh, please. I can sight read sheet music and everything, I’d be such a good student, Professor,” you add, smirking as he stiffens slightly.

“Oh, behave,” he scolds lightly, tugging at his

collar as if he’s sweating at your words.

“Make me,” you giggle, meeting his eyes in challenge.

“You know I will, princess,” he says seriously, your skin prickling hot as he watches you, daring you to break first. You’re saved from having to, though, by the same waitress coming to take your order. Not even having picked up the food menu, you let Matty order for you, trusting his taste.

As it turns out, his taste is impeccable, down to the steak being cooked exactly the way you like. “God, this is fucking delicious,” you exclaim, digging in eagerly. “This place is amazing,” you add, unable to keep the beaming smile off your face. You chat back and forth for a couple of hours, asking about his family and his childhood, cooing at the stories he tells. If anyone were listening, they’d probably be nauseated by your obscene flirting, getting bolder as Matty continues plying you with wine even as he switches to water.

The same waitress returns, the false cheer bright in her tone as she offers you dessert menus. “No, thanks,” you say without taking your eyes off Matty. “We have dessert at home.” You flash your teeth in a grin so there can be no mistaking your meaning.

Matty picks up the bill, and you don’t even pretend to protest. It’s been years since you’ve been on a date you didn’t have to pay for, guys your age from your circles unusually stingy, and you feel guilty expecting broke college boys to pay for you. And it’s only feminist to split the bill with another girl, anyway. “Dessert, yeah?” he smirks as you slide into the passenger seat, and you squirm.

“I promise I’m just as sweet,” you tease. “Take me to yours and I’ll show you exactly how sweet I can be.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so,” he says, and your stomach sinks. “Good girl like you shouldn’t put out on the first date, or didn’t your daddy teach you any better?” he says, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

God, he’s a fucking tease. “You didn’t teach me anything like that, Daddy,” you pout. “You can’t get me all needy looking this hot and not let me have you. S’not fair.” You fold your arms, sulking.

“Oh, angel,” he tuts. “Not figured it out, yet? I don’t have to be fair.” And with that, your fate is sealed, Matty dropping you home and leaning over for a chaste kiss that he resists your attempts to deepen. “I’ll see you soon, princess. You know where to find me,” he promises, your eyes not leaving him until his car turns the corner and disappears from view.

You slope inside, disappointed and unsatisfied, plagued with the thought of where you could be right now if Matty had taken you home with him. Your father’s car is in the drive, and you groan to yourself, utterly uninterested in explaining yourself. Of course, you’re expected to anyways. “Where have you been?” your mother demands, and you fold your arms. If she’d asked out of curiosity, genuine interest, it would be different, but she only wants to know so she can approve or disapprove, sneering consternation written across her face.

“Out,” you say shortly, thick tension pulling taut between you.

“With who?” she asks, lips pursed.

“A friend,” you snap. “God, Mum, I went out for lunch, what’s it to you? I’m a grown-ass woman, I shouldn’t have to ask my mummy for permission to leave the house!”

“Language!” she exclaims, and you roll your eyes and push past her, storming up the stairs and slamming the door, finally breathing easy when the lock on your door forms a decisive barrier between you and your parents. Left alone, it doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift back to Matty and the ache he left between your thighs. You wonder if he’s home yet, if he’ll want to hear your voice, or if it’s too soon.

You war with yourself for a few minutes, but your desire wins out, calling Matty up and laying back against your pillows. “Hello, darling.” He picks up on the second ring. “Missing me already?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, the mere sound of his voice sending a pulse of desire thrumming through you. “Thinkin’ about you. About how you got me all needy.”

He laughs darkly. “God, what am I going to do with you? Naughty girl can’t even keep her hands to herself for an hour. Are you getting wet for me, angel?”

“Yes,” you moan happily, thrilled to get what you want. “I need you.”

“You beg so pretty, baby,” he coos, grunting softly, and you can just picture him, cock half-hard in his palm as you hear the rustle of clothes dropping to the floor. “C’mon, tell Daddy what you want.”

You whimper, dipping your hand under your waistband, slick pooling against your fingertips. “Wish you were touching me,” you moan. “Could’ve brought me home with you. Could’ve bent me over anywhere you wanted, stuffed me full and fucking used me.”

“Such a slut,” Matty murmurs, faint, slick sounds echoing from the other end of the call as he grunts rhythmically. The image of him makes you dizzy, fisting his cock messily, hips thrusting into his hand. You moan quietly, rubbing slow, tight circles into your clit. “Are you touching yourself?” You murmur an affirmative. “Stop.” Your blood runs cold, like you’ve been doused in ice water.

“Wh- What?” you hiss, disbelieving.

“You heard me, darling. I told you, good girls don’t put out on the first date. Daddy’s teachin’ you manners, yeah?”

“That’s not fair, Daddy,” you whine again. “Don’t need you to tell me when I can get off. Managed just fine before you came along,” you add petulantly.

Matty just laughs. “Okay, baby. I’m sure you did. You could hang up this call right now, get yourself off all on your own. But you won’t,” he says, smugly confident. “You know why? Because Daddy knows what’s best for brats like you. And, really, you just wanna be my good, sweet, dumb little girl, don’t you, angel?”

Thick, choking lust envelops you, crushing the air from your lungs as you find yourself whimpering, “Yes, Daddy. Won’t touch anymore,” you say, your mouth moving without your brain’s say-so.

Your body hums with energy, tense with the knowledge you won’t be allowed to release it. “Good girl,” Matty croons, your chest warming at the praise. “Still gotta punish you for bein’ a brat, though,” he adds, through a soft moan. “Don’t want you touchin’ that pretty cunt without my permission, ‘kay?” Your stomach sinks, arousal flaring impossibly in your gut.

“Okay, Daddy. I’ll be good,” you promise, his appreciative moan sending heat spiralling between your legs. You stay on the call until the sound of Matty spilling into his fist fills your ears, leaving you sticky and fucking throbbing with need. It takes you what feels like forever to get your breathing under control enough that your legs will stop shaking to carry you to the shower. You gasp as you plunge into the freezing cold spray, barely enough to quench the fire rolling through your veins. Unable to resist, you text Matty a picture of yourself when you step out, the steam on the mirror teasingly blurring your wet, naked body.

And that is the last time you hear Matty’s voice for an entire fucking week. There always seems to be some obstacle, a friend’s birthday, or a dinner you’re not invited to, or both of you are up to your eyeballs in pointless, mind-numbing work. You’d almost think he was avoiding you, if not for your constant back-and-forth over text and Matty’s incessant pleas for you to visit him at the office. You resist for a while, terrified of being caught and what that would mean for this… thing… that’s blooming between you, still fragile and new.

But it’s driving you fucking crazy, and you miss him, so after a week, you find an excuse; because you’re a good, dutiful daughter, you’re bringing your father lunch to share after he cancelled your meal out yesterday. You zone out after the same five minutes of talking in circles, giving automatic, robotic responses you know he wants to hear. It would be a lie to say you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief when the lift doors ding shut, carrying you up to Matty’s office. You haven’t told him you’re coming, hoping your presence will be a welcome surprise. What you hadn’t counted on, though, was his bleach-blonde secretary, idly tapping on her keyboard and actively standing in your way.

Your heart sinks. She’s pretty, unbelievably so, and barely older than you. If Matty hasn’t already had her, which you doubt, it’s crossed his mind. What if that’s what he’s been doing, all those times he’s complained about leaving the office late? A vision of her spread out on his desk fills your mind, Matty crooning his sweet, filthy words into her ear as her chest heaves. Her boobs are fake, you decide, your gaze flickering to them. It’s not humanly possible for a pair of tits to be that big and perky at the same time. Pushing down the jealousy roiling in your gut, you step up to her desk. Her eyes sweep over you, unimpressed, and she purses her lips.

You push your shoulders back, letting the snotty, spoiled brat who’s never been told no free, a snide grin spreading across your features. It feels fucking good to exercise that facet of your personality again, having tamped down on it since you went to uni — makes it easier to play well with others. Impatiently, you click your fingers in front of the woman’s face. “I’m here to see Mr. Healy,” you say with a saccharine smile. Sure, you could just call him and tell him you’re outside, but this is so much more fun. Especially now that you get to mess with her head, too. Matty’s never fucked her, but she wants him to, you can tell by the way her face falls when she sees you. Good, you think vindictively. Maybe blondes don’t have more fun. Not with him, at least.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks, voice nasally and grating.

You sigh, like she’s asking you a ridiculous question. “No, but he’ll want to see me, trust me. Tell him… Tell him Angel is here, yeah?” She looks at you, sceptical and detached. “My parents were hippies, what can you do?” you shrug, raising your eyebrows and flicking your fingers patronisingly at her, as if to say go on. Your gazes lock in a battle of wills for a brief moment, but you grin victoriously when she picks up her phone.

“Hello, sir. There’s a girl out here asking to see you.” The way she says girl feels like a slur dripping from her overglossed lips. “Says her name’s Angel? She doesn’t have an appointment, I can send her away, if you like. Won’t be a problem.”

“No, no, send her in. And, for future reference, she’s welcome anytime, okay? No appointment necessary. Actually, I’ll come get her.” Matty’s voice is faint from the other end of the phone, but distinct enough that you can hear his words and the click as he sets the phone down. Seconds later, he emerges from his office, breaking into a wide grin at the sight of you. “Hello, angel,” he grins, kissing your cheek politely but lingering a little longer than appropriate. “Feels like it’s been forever. Come on in, yeah?” He takes you by the waist and leads you to his office, and you throw a smirk over your shoulder at the secretary as you go, a clear message: I win, you lose. “Oh, and Ruby? Nobody in my office for the next hour, alright?” She flushes as red as her name suggests, glaring at you furiously, trying to tell you this isn’t over. You ignore her, though, because you and Matty are finally alone.

“Only an hour?” you giggle. “You’re losing your touch, sir.”

“Oh, sir, hm? That’s new,” he teases as you perch on his desk, drinking in the sight of him with something dangerously close to relief.

You lean forward. “She wants you. So fucking badly,” you remark.

“I know,” he shrugs, loosening his tie with one hand and stroking your bare thigh with the other.

This time, you let the jealousy bubble up to the surface. “Have you ever fucked her?” You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

Matty laughs. “Have you ever heard the expression, don’t shit where you eat?” he asks, and you wrinkle your nose and nod. “Well, that goes double for the young, hot blonde the company dangles in front of you like fucking bait, just waiting for you to cross a line.”

You’re starting to see red, his words nothing close to what you wanted to hear. “But you would. If she didn’t work for you.”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He grips your hips, sliding you closer to him, dislodging stacks of paper and pens from his desk. “If I didn’t have you.” Then, his fingers creep higher, tantalisingly close to where you want them, and you push down the argument you were about to start. Giving up the best sex you’ve ever had isn’t worth it just because you got a little too possessive over someone who isn’t actually yours.

“She’d never be as good as me,” you say bitterly. “I don’t think a man like you would let a little red tape stop you if you actually wanted her. What’s wrong with her, really?”

Matty smirks. “Jealous girl,” he says smugly. “Don’t wanna talk about her when I could have this,” he adds, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your thigh. You whine softly, arching forward into his touch. “You’d be better than her, yeah? You wanna prove it?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Let’s say you’re my secretary, yeah, baby?”

A thrill runs up your spine. “Yes, sir,” you breathe. You slide off the desk to prop yourself in the chair opposite his, unbuttoning your blouse a little and leaning back with a smirk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” you say, playing up your wide, innocent eyes.

“Yes,” Matty says thoughtfully. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my office.” You bite your lip to clamp down on your grin, nodding seriously. “Always in those short little skirts, bendin’ over so you can show off those pretty, lace panties. You wear those for me, don’t you, baby?”

You smirk, popping the buttons of your blouse past decency. “You’re wrong, sir.” You spread your legs wide, and he chokes on his inhale. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

Matty groans, sweeping his desk clear, pens and paper scattering across the floor. “Bend over,” he orders sharply. “Now.”

You stand to obey, then pause. “Wait one second,” you say, darting around the desk so you’re face-to-face. “Just realised I haven’t done this yet.” You sling your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, kissing him hungrily and melting at his touch. Desperately, you try not to dissect the relief flooding your body from the point where his hands meet your skin. “Okay,” you say as you pull back, breathless. “M’ready now.”

Bracing your elbows on the desk, you bend over, baring your dripping cunt as Matty shoves your skirt up your thighs. “Spread your legs for me.” You obey, but he just growls and kicks them further apart, a shocked sound pulling free from your throat. “Wider,” he orders. “Not doin’ such a good job of convincing me you’d be so much better than her, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational if his nails weren’t digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise.

Angry, red-hot jealousy floods your veins, tangling cruelly with the ball of anticipation winding tight in your core. You can’t decide whether to go lax, let Matty have his good girl, or to fight against him for comparing you to her. It doesn’t take long for the brat to win out. “You want her so bad? Call her in, then,”

You can practically hear Matty’s eyebrows raise, the realisation you won’t let him have this so easily setting in. “You want me to, baby?” He clicks his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’re jealous of the pretty girl who sits outside my office all day.” He reaches around to pop another button of your blouse. “And you’re scared of what I might be doing with her when you can’t see.” He pulls your shirt out of the waistband of your skirt and tugs it off your shoulders. “So you want her to know exactly what we’re doing in here, so you can lay some kind of claim on me. Am I right?” Your mind spins as you try to think of a smartass response, thoughts jolted free from your head when Matty spanks you harshly. The crack of skin on skin might have been loud enough to be heard from outside, you think with a pulse of satisfaction. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are yes, sir or yes, Daddy, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moan out, your cunt throbbing needily. “You’re right. Want her to see how good you fuck me, want her to know she could never make you feel as good as I do,” you say, the admissions stumbling one after another from your lips, unbidden.

“There’s my good girl,” he coos, your stomach clenching at the sound of his belt unbuckling, his zipper falling. “Such a little brat when you’re gagging for my cock, aren’t you, princess?” You nod furiously, whining as he teases your hole with the tips of his fingers. Desperate for friction, you grind back against them, weak, helpless moans tumbling from your lips. “Beg for it.” You choke on a gasp. “Go on, angel. You want my cock so bad? Beg for it.”

You don’t even have time to pretend to have dignity before wanton pleas spill free. “Fuck, Daddy, please! Want your cock so fucking bad, always make me feel so good, s’not the same when I do it myself,” you whine, giving a shuddering gasp when he teases your clit with the tip of his cock. “Please! I’m beggin’ you, Daddy, I’ll be good, I promise.”

Matty chuckles. “Alright, baby, alright,” he murmurs soothingly, lining himself up with your soaked entrance and sliding home so fast you’re gasping. Your knees buckle as you scramble for purchase on the desk, nails scraping against the varnished wood. “Oh, princess, it’s okay, Daddy’s here now,” he soothes, your cunt pulsing desperately around him. “Look at you, bein’ all sweet for me now you’re stuffed full. Such a dumb little slut, aren’t you, baby? Bet you wish you didn’t have to think about anythin’ except my cock.”

“Mhm,” you whine, arching your back as much as you can, your tits pressing against the cool wood of the desk. “M’just your stupid little slut, Daddy, please fuck me,” you beg, grinding back against him.

Matty’s hips slam suddenly against yours, a whining scream tearing from your throat as pleasure spills over in your veins. His hand comes down to cover your mouth, your body going limp against his. “Shh, princess. I’m at work, remember?” The reminder that fucking anyone could come to his door, know exactly what he’s doing to you, sends a thrill up your spine. “Can you be quiet, hm? Or do I need to make you quiet?” Another deep thrust draws a long, low moan from your throat, and he seems to have answered his own question. The fabric of his tie covers your mouth, spit leaking out around it. “There you go, angel. Nice and quiet for me. Bang on the desk if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, something that might be yes, Daddy coming out garbled around the gag. Matty fucks into you brutally, your chest heaving as ecstasy burns under your skin. “Good girl,” he coos. “Good, sweet girl. Takin’ my cock so well, princess. Such a pretty toy for your Daddy.”

Matty sets a bruising pace, your tongue pushing against his tie as it holds back your pathetic little noises. Your tits press against the desk, the sharp tip of a pencil digging into your bare stomach. You barely feel it, unconscious of anything but Matty’s skin against yours. “God, you feel so fucking good, princess. Daddy’s girl, aren’t you? Why would I ever want another girl when I’ve ruined you so perfect for me? Look at you, good little girl gagged and bent over my desk like a whore.” You moan, filthy words washing over you, sliding down your throat, sticky, wet pleasure dripping out of you.

You’re dizzy with lust, dazed and drooling, ecstasy spiralling through your bones. You can’t even think, Matty fucking all coherence out of you, every thrust clouding your mind more and more. Garbled moans fall from your lips in a filthy, spit-slick string, Matty’s rhythmic grunts swirling deliciously around your head. The calloused pads of his fingers find your clit, euphoria scorching in your bloodstream at the scrape over your swollen nerves. Your legs feel like jelly, melting hot and sweet under Matty’s touch. “You’re close, aren’t you, baby? Can feel your pretty cunt squeezin’ me so tight, princess. You wanna cum for Daddy?”

A few more rough circles over your clit, one more deep, spearing thrust and you break, wailing around the gag. “Good girl,” Matty croons, fucking you through as stars shatter behind your closed lids. Liquid ecstasy melts your bones, glueing you to the desk. Matty groans your name, cock pulsing as he spills inside you, a sound that’s pure desire falling from his lips. Still inside you, he unties the gag, letting it fall onto the desk as you draw a deep breath. “How are you feeling, angel?”

“So good,” you murmur, voice scratchy from disuse, whining as he pulls out of you. “Always make me feel so good, Daddy,” you add, letting Matty flip you around and set you on the desk, his eyes falling to your glistening core. Cum drips obscenely from you, puddling sticky and wet on his desk, a filthy smirk crossing his face.

“Good girl. So pretty for me, darling.” He tucks himself away, and once his belt is buckled he’s the picture of professionalism while you sit in front of him, sex-rumpled and half-naked and panting. “First girl I’ve ever fucked in here, you know,” he adds, so offhand you’d almost miss it if it it hadn’t made your heart jump into your throat. You can’t make head or fucking tail of him, one minute taunting you with his pretty secretary, the next swearing that you’re special. “M’sorry, darling, I don’t have much in here to clean you up with,” he says with a soft laugh, wiping a tissue through your folds and crooning soothingly when you whimper.

“S’okay. Was worth it,” you say. Your limbs feel tired and heavy, your eyelids drooping as you glance at the time and realise half your allotted hour is gone.

“You tired, sweet girl?” he asks with a soft, fond chuckle.

“Yeah,” you yawn. “You wore me out. Wish we were in bed. That was the best sleep of my life,” you confess, huffing a soft laugh.

You shudder as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch careful and tender. “Soon, princess, I promise. I’m sorry we haven’t seen each other. Missed you,” he says, and the admission melts in your chest, glueing your organs together and squeezing tightly. You sigh, the question on the tip of your tongue dissolving like a sugar pill as your resolve shatters. “How’s your week been, angel? Your friend’s birthday, right?”

You swallow a grimace. Isobel is hardly your friend, in the same way your parents aren’t friends, but you run in the same circles so proximity forced you into something resembling friendship. “Oh, the usual,” you say idly, twirling a curl that’s sprung loose from the gel in his hair around your finger. “Drinks, drugs, boys,” you tease, grinning when his jaw clenches. So he can dish it out but not take it? Interesting.

“Did you talk to any boys, princess?” he asks, eyes glittering dangerously.

Shrugging airily, you kick your legs where they dangle off the desk. “So what if I did?” you challenge. The next words wrench themselves free of your mouth, tasting bitter as they fall. “We’re only fucking, it’s not like you actually own me. If I want to fuck someone else, are you gonna stop me?”

The question hangs thick and acerbic in the air between you and Matty swallows visibly. “No,” he says after a pause. “You can fuck whoever you want, princess. Won’t be as good as me, though, and you know it,” he says, smug and acrid.

The air between you is tense, horribly charged and all wrong, and you can feel tears prickling at the back of your throat. “I should get going,” you say abruptly, getting to your feet. “I’ll see you soon,” you add, not looking back at him as you cross the room.

“Say hi to Ruby on your way out, yeah?” Matty says, something close to a sneer in his voice. As you open the door, though, you paste on a blithe smile and relax your shoulders for Ruby’s benefit.

“Hope it’s not you who has to clean up in there,” you smirk as you pass. “Made a bit of a mess,” you giggle, savouring the way Ruby’s face shifts in colour as she swallows her grimace.

And so you leave Matty’s office more confused about what he wants than when you fucking came in. Something shifts between you after that. Your words don’t change, Matty just as syrupy-sweet as ever, but the difference is palpable, sugared words souring as you digest them. He gets even more possessive while you fuck, more degrading, insisting you’re such a little slut, baby. Whoring yourself out to every fucking boy who looks at you, but you always come runnin’ back to your Daddy, yeah?

But it’s not always angry and mean. Sometimes, it’s slow and so sweet you could swear it’s loving, Matty lavishing you with praise, murmurs of that’s right, such a good girl and Daddy’s girl, so pretty for me soaking into your skin and tying themselves in knots around your brain. Some nights, especially recently, you don’t even fuck when you go to his place. Being there is a comfort, away from catty friends and overbearing parents, somewhere you can just be. Last night, you’d suddenly realised you kind of just weren’t in the mood, apologising and making to leave, and he’d just kissed your temple, pulled you in close and asked what your favourite movie was. And you started to believe. And then you’ll go out for drinks, so much as mention a boy’s name; he’ll toss a jab about some pretty young girl he works with, and you’re right back where you started, tearing each other apart at the seams.

You’re this close to ripping your fucking hair out, sick to death of bottling it all up when you finally decide you need to unload on someone. “I just don’t get him,” you complain, your best friend Thea making sympathetic noises at all the right moments. “One minute it’s all you’re my girl and my pretty baby, the next it’s such a whore, bet you’d let anyone fuck you.”

“But you’re still sleeping at his place?” Thea asks, judgement obvious in her tone.

You groan. “Yes, leave me alone! If you saw the state I’m in after, you’d understand.”

Thea clicks her tongue. “And you haven’t actually fucked anyone else?”

“No,” you admit, defeated. “Don’t know if I could, to be honest.”

“Does he know that? Has he?”

“No and I don’t know. I just don’t know where I fucking stand, and I can’t ask. He’ll think I’m some pathetic little girl who can’t handle it, I know it.”

“You know what you need? You, me, a pair of slutty little dresses, and those fancy cocktails with about twelve kinds of alcohol in them from 102. I’m not taking no for an answer, I’ll see you at ten.”

And, true enough, at eleven you’re clutching a gin bowl for dear life and screeching along to the song thumping through the club’s speakers. “I need a refill, c’mon!” you shout in Thea’s ear, dragging her off to the bar where you can hear slightly better.

Despite the queue, the bartender stops in front of you with a smile. “Love that dress. What can I get for you?” You scan the menu, brow scrunching in a frown, but your words die in your throat as the bartender steps into slightly better light and you take her in properly. She’s a fucking goddess, model-pretty with thick, dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes.

Thea swats your arm and you realise your gaze has drifted down, and you pull it back up to where she’s waiting with a smirk. “You’ve— The menu’s changed. I used to get a Sucker,” you manage to get out around the lump in your throat.

“Alright,” she says cryptically. “And you?”

Thea shrugs. “I’ll have what she’s having, I’m not picky.”

She laughs. “Oh, no. You two do not pick the same poisons. I’ve got this, okay?” Slightly entranced, you watch her work, setting something golden and glittering in front of you. “Sunshine Baby,” she says with a wink. “And for you… Antichrist.”

Thea takes her swirling, dark drink with a delighted grin. “She was into you,” she teases, nudging you with her hip.

“Oh, please, she wanted a tip.” The pair of you find a table, one with a prime view of the DJ booth so you can ogle the hot, blond DJ as he whips the crowd into a frenzied mass of sweating bodies. You keep returning to the same bartender, whose name you learn is Charli, and she keeps plying you with free shots for hot girls and increasingly strong drinks, until you find yourself stumbling onto the dancefloor and losing track of Thea.

Your head feels light, your body loose in a way it hasn’t been in weeks, the alcohol dampening your coherent thoughts. A pair of hands find your waist, and you twist your head back to meet the eyes of their owner. He couldn’t be further from Matty if he tried; your age, for one, tall, willowy and blond. The kind of man you’d usually never have looked twice at. But maybe that’s exactly what you need right now, you think, grinding your hips back against his with a grin. “Can I get your number?” he asks, pulling you free of the dancefloor, sweaty and flushed and smiling freely. After a long moment of consideration, Matty’s warning gaze flashing in your mind, you smirk and give it to him. “Let me take you out. You free Thursday?”

His overconfidence is jarring, and you swallow a frown. “I don’t know,” you tease. “Maybe. Why don’t we get back out there and you can convince me?” You obviously aren’t going to fucking go. Even as drunk as you are, you know that. Whatever this thing with Matty is, it’s serious to you, and you know the pair of you need to untangle it. But, for now, you shove it to the back of your mind, distracting yourself with free shots from a pretty boy, your head spinning wildly by the time you find Thea.

She might even be drunker than you are, stumbling and slurring as you bundle her into a taxi; she lives on the other side of town to you, so it doesn’t make sense to share. “Go, I’ll be fine,” you insist. “There’ll be another one in a minute, okay? Bye! Love you!” you shout as the car pulls away, Thea’s slightly green-tinged face hanging out of the open window. Left alone, you suddenly realise just how drunk you are, your vision blurred as you slump to the curb. When ten minutes pass without a taxi appearing, panic starts to set in; it’s too close to closing time and you’re too drunk, 102 won’t let you back in, and it’ll be the same story anywhere up and down the street. You’re alone in the dark, bile rising in your throat as you do the only thing you can think of and dial Matty.

“Hello?” he says, voice gruff with sleep. “Bit late to be calling, darling. Can’t sleep? Need some help to relax?” he adds, his smirk audible.

Your voice wavers as you speak. “M’sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” you say, choked with the effort of holding back tears. “I can’t call my parents, I don’t have any fucking friends who’d care, there’s no taxis, I—” you cut yourself off with a hysterical gasp.

Matty shushes you soothingly. “Baby. Baby, breathe. Breathe for me, okay?” You try your best to obey, drawing deep, hiccuping breaths, shuddering harshly on the exhale. “What’s wrong, love?” You stumble your way through an explanation, babbling profuse apologies, mortification creeping up your spine. “Darling, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. Where are you?”

“102,” you sniffle. “It’s—”

“I know the place. Sit tight, okay? I’m getting in the car now, I’ll be there soon. I’ve got you, promise.” The wave of relief that floods your body when you finally spot Matty’s car pulling to a stop in front of you is near-crippling, and you’d have collapsed when he wraps his arms around you if he wasn’t supporting your weight. “Oh, baby. Sweet girl, it’s okay. I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he repeats soothingly, only pulling away when you stop swaying on your feet. “God, you smell like the floor of a dive bar,” he teases, and you chuckle weakly. “C’mon, angel. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You murmur another apology as you slide into the passenger seat, and he waves it away with a smile. “Hey, my house is the left back there,” you say, the cool night air having snapped you back to yourself a little.

“I know,” Matty says quietly. “I’m not sending you back there alone, darling. Promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” he says, his hand on your thigh gently calming instead of teasing.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking down at your lap as Matty parks the car in his drive.

“Any time, angel. I’m serious. I’m glad you called. Don’t ever want you to think I won’t be here if you’re not okay.” And fuck if that sickening, chaotic mess of feelings doesn’t just bubble right back up to the surface. He leads you into the kitchen, your body curled into his to steady yourself. “I’ll get you something to eat, okay?”

You shake your head. “Mm-mm. You’re already doing too much. And I won’t keep it down, anyway,” you say, pressing a hand to your roiling stomach. “I just need to lie down.” You start to wander into the living room, and Matty grabs your wrist gently.

“You need to eat something, darling. Drink some water, sleep in a bed,” he adds insistently. You let him fuss over you, plying you with a slice of toast and a glass of water, and you tuck yourself into his chest as he carries you up to bed. Dressed in one of his well-worn shirts, his familiar scent fills your lungs, comforting as he tucks himself into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you repeat. “Can’t say it enough. Didn’t have to do all this, Matty. I would’ve been okay.”

“Don’t want you just okay,” he answers. “Want you feeling good, and safe, and happy. Get some sleep, love, m’here.” You close your eyes obligingly, but your drunken haze lifting has set your thoughts free, spinning like a coin set on its edge that just won’t fall. Your night plays back in sickening detail behind your lids, the memory of the boy’s hands on you bringing bile up your throat. Laying in Matty’s bed without having been thoroughly exhausted first always plays with your sanity, your brain wandering to places you know it shouldn’t go as he sleeps peacefully next to you.

The sun is coming up by the time you give up on sleep, hoping Matty’s rhythmic breathing means he won’t hear you trying to sneak away. No such luck, though. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?” he asks, and you feel a stab of guilt at interrupting his sleep yet again.

“Home. I’ll get out of your hair, now. Thank you again,” you say quietly.

“Baby. Princess. Come here, come back here,” Matty says, and he looks so sweet and earnest, sleep-soft and smiling, that you obey, and you can’t help the happy little sigh that escapes you as he pulls you close.

Shame burns hot through you as you remember the previous night all over again, and you can’t stop yourself from blurting out, “A boy asked me on a date last night.”

Matty’s hand tightens on your hip. “What did you say?” he asks, voice low with warning.

You sigh, steeling yourself to look into his eyes. “What do you want me to have said? you answer, and he blinks, confusion written across his features. “What is this, Matty? Because if this is casual, if you just want a shiny young girl on your arm for a few months, it’s fine by me,” you lie, pushing down the nausea that pools at your words. “But if this is just fun, we should be allowed to see other people — are you seeing other people?” you ask, tension winding between your shoulder blades as you prepare for the answer.

“No,” Matty practically growls. “And I’m not fucking anyone else, either, before you ask. I haven’t in weeks.” He huffs a laugh. “I tried, the day I met you, tried to get you out of my head ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get to have you.” His thumb rubs gentle circles into your hip, his touch comforting as his words soak in, a soothing balm to your nerves. “Didn’t fucking work. Couldn’t stop picturing you instead,” he confesses. “You’re in my head, princess. M’sorry I let my little strop go on so long. Thinkin’ about some other man touching you was driving me crazy. I was bein’ selfish. If you want to see other people, I—”

“I don’t,” you interrupt. “Only want you.”

He breaks out in a wide grin. “Pictured this being a bit more romantic, but,” Matty pinches your hip gently, and you giggle, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re my girl, yeah? Properly mine.”

“Yeah,” you say, practically glowing as you smile back at him. “As long as you’re mine.”

He threads a hand into your hair, kisses you like breathing is a choice, licking eagerly into your mouth as you melt against him. “What are you gonna say if another boy asks you on a date, princess?”

“I have a boyfriend,” you beam, just using the word making your heart warm. The tangled knot that’s sat in your belly for weeks now blissfully untied, your body feels loose and happy and willing. “I’m gonna have a shower, okay, then I’ve gotta thank you properly, yeah?”

A filthy smirk pulls at Matty’s lips. “I like the sound of that.” You giggle, pressing a kiss to his nose before climbing off him.

“You would,” you tease, padding into the bathroom and running the shower. You luxuriate under the water for several long, glorious minutes, the water pressure melting the last lingering tension between your shoulders. The smell of the club lingers in your hair until you scrub it with Matty’s expensive shampoo, the smell familiar as you work your fingers over your scalp, lingering like you’ll be able to absorb him through your skin. You towel your hair mostly dry, despite your insistence that Matty was committing a cardinal sin by doing the same, and wander back into the bedroom still naked and dripping wet.

Matty chokes on a gasp. “Fuck. Hi, gorgeous.” The praise heats your cheeks and you kneel at the foot of his bed, clasping your hands behind your back.

“Hi, Daddy,” you say sweetly. “I said I’d thank you properly. Gonna show you what a good girl I can be. Best girl you’ll ever have.” Matty smirks, sitting up to give himself a better view. “Can do whatever you want with me. All day long.” He smirks, dirty and sleazy and delicious, and pats the sheets next to him.

“C’mere, princess. Up you get.” You scramble to obey, sighing happily when he tangles his legs with yours and kisses you slow and deep. His hardness presses against your thigh as you make out, his hands wandering to your ass and squeezing. “God, so perfect, darling,” he praises. “Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Yours,” you whimper into his mouth, almost deliriously happy. His kiss is almost ferocious, hungry and devouring, desire coiling under your skin. “Daddy, please. Want you so bad,” you murmur.

Matty laughs. “Patience, angel. Thought you were gonna be good?” he says, but it’s light and teasing, without any of the underlying meanness that might have laced his tone a week ago. You relax, tension unspooling in your belly as you put your trust in him. His hands skim over your body, somehow both gentle and working you into a frenzy. A litany of pathetic little whimpers fall from your lips as you squirm under his hands, Matty smirking into the kiss. “Sweet, needy baby,” he croons. “Missed havin’ you all sweet for me. M’sorry I was so mean, princess. Gonna make it up to you, I swear.” His fingers finally find your clit, heat welling between your thighs. It takes a Herculean effort to stay still, not react beyond your involuntary gasp, but the proud little smile on Matty’s face is worth it. “Good girl. Tell Daddy what you want, angel.”

You nod, swallowed in hazy pleasure as he rubs slow circles over your clit. “Want you to fuck me,” you choke out, your throat closing in overwhelming arousal.

Matty rolls on top of you, connecting your lips in a messy kiss. “Of course, baby. You okay like this? Wanna watch your pretty face while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you breathe. Matty doesn’t tease, just rubs gentle circles over your clit as he enters you, moaning softly into your mouth. Your hips roll, desire pooling under your skin as he fucks you slow and deep.

“God, missed havin’ you like this,” he breathes, his head falling into your shoulder. “Oh, darling, I know, I know. Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs as you whimper softly, languid, bone-deep pleasure rolling over you. Matty’s eyes are liquid with affection, his lips curving into an unconscious smile.

His lips find yours again, your tongues sliding together as punched-out gasps fall from your lips in time with his smooth, measured thrusts. It’s immeasurably intense, Matty playing your body like a symphony, and you’re powerless to do anything but whine and writhe. “Thank you s’much, Daddy. Feels so fucking good,” you whimper, locking your legs around his waist. The change in angle is glorious, ecstasy winding through your bloodstream as Matty rubs circles into your clit.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs, “Such a good girl for Daddy. My girl, my fucking girl. Wish I could keep you all sweet and cockdrunk for me all the fuckin’ time. Fuckin’ wish I could have you as my little kept girl, have this pussy at home waitin’ for me every fuckin’ night,” he groans, the familiar fantasy spiralling through your mind. He murmurs soft, sugary words into your ear, liquid desire melting your brain until you’re sure it must be dripping from your ears, soaking the sheets under your hair. “So, so pretty, darling. Look so gorgeous while I’m fucking you, god.”

You glow at the praise, heat thrumming under your skin as his hips meet yours over and over. You’re practically delirious, lost in thick, syrupy pleasure, the lewd sound of skin meeting filling the room. “Mmh, oh, my God, fuck—” you gasp, pleasure coiling tight in your belly as you dig your nails into his back. “M’gonna cum, Daddy, oh, my God, need it s’bad. Wanna cum, wanna make you cum, shit. Need to feel it, need you to fill me up, make me yours, God, please!”

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Matty gasps, his rhythm faltering as he gets closer. “Can hold on for me, just for a second, yeah? Wanna cum together,” he adds, and you whine, rolling your hips up against him and trembling with the effort of holding your orgasm at bay. He fucks into you with deep, sloppy thrusts, moaning into your mouth and pinching your clit. Garbled moans of fuck and yes and Daddy stumble from your lips, sticky, hot desire dripping from your cunt as you writhe under him. “Fuck, princess, you ready?” Matty gasps against your lips.

“Yeah, m’ready, Daddy, c’mon. Cum in me, fill up this slutty little pussy. M’yours, your good girl, your little cumdump. God, need it s’bad,” you moan, breaking into a whine as Matty spills inside you with a groan. Your orgasm follows a split-second later, moaning against Matty’s mouth with stardust glittering in your veins. Euphoria scorches under your skin, your head floating clear of your body as pleasure floods you, gasping and moaning. “Thank you,” you say dopily, smiling up at him as he pulls out. You widen your legs to watch his cum dripping out of you, pooling obscene and sticky on the mattress.

Matty watches you with a laugh. “Little cumslut,” he says fondly.

“Your little cumslut,” you smirk, stretching out your sore muscles. “When I said anything you want, I meant anything,” you grin. “Want me to be your little kept girl? Cook and clean for you while you look all pretty and important?”

He chuckles. “First of all, I’ve seen what you think passes for a meal, princess. Don’t know how you haven’t poisoned yourself.” You swat his shoulder, laughing. “Second of all, if you can stand right now, I haven’t worked hard enough,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“You’re lucky I like you cocky,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and testing your weight on your feet as you stand. Matty catches you as you stumble slightly, I told you so written plainly on his face. “Don’t,” you warn, before it can leave his mouth.

“Y’know, I think I like the sound of having a little housewife for the day,” he grins, your stomach tying itself in a knot at the word wife from his lips. “C’mon, sweet girl, I’m sure we can find something for you to occupy yourself with while you’re waitin’ for me to fuck you dumb again, huh?” he teases, your thighs clenching at the words. You bend to reach for your clothes, and he tsks softly. “Didn’t say you could get dressed, did I, angel?”

“No, Daddy. I won’t.” You swallow thickly, following him downstairs, feeling shockingly exposed in the glare of the sunlight pooling from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Matty’s cum trickles down your thighs as you hover beside him.

“Make us some tea, would you, darling?” he says, casual like you’re not naked and dripping cum on his pristine kitchen floor. “Shame you haven’t got a little apron, or something. Think I’d go a bit crazy, seein’ you in my kitchen dripping wet in nothing but an apron and a smile. Gotta teach you how to cook someday, if you wanna be my kept girl,” he continues, still maddeningly conversational as your cunt pulses wantonly at his words. “Tea, darling? Or have I got you too dumb for that without even touching you?” he teases.

Almost mechanically, you fill the kettle and flick it on, dropping a teabag into a mug for him and wrinkling your nose unsubtly. “Can I have a coffee? I don’t do tea.”

Matty laughs. “Course, princess. Want you to make yourself at home. Coffee’s just down there.” He points to a cupboard near your feet, stroking over the curve of your ass as you bend over. You don’t realise his game until you scan the contents of the cupboard and find nothing but pots and pans, and his fingers are tracing your messy, sensitive cunt. “Oops, did I say down?” he deadpans, reaching above your head to open another cupboard. “I meant up.”

“Perv,” you tease, retrieving the tin of coffee as the kettle whistles.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss softly at your neck and jaw. “Too fucking gorgeous. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”

You giggle, breaking his hold to pour your drinks. “Can’t believe it took us this long. We’re idiots, kind of.”

“A bit,” he chuckles, accepting his tea and taking a sip. “So, what did you say? To that boy?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, obviously. Felt so guilty taking his number. Deleted it in the car,” you admit, staring into your coffee to avoid his gaze.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Knew nobody could fuck you like me, right? Nobody could treat you as good?”

You flush, setting your drink down and hopping up onto the counter, crossing your legs behind his back as he crowds into your space. “No, Daddy. Only you, I promise.”

Matty cups your jaw. “That’s right, princess. All mine. And I’m yours,” he says, cupping your jaw and connecting your lips in a searing kiss, drinking in the taste of you as you pour your emotions into his mouth. “So perfect, such a perfect girl for me,” he says, sucking a bruise into your skin and working his way down. He presses kisses over your tits, one hand coming up to play with a peaked bud as he wraps his lips around the other. You whine, arching your back and pushing against his attentions, a low buzz of pleasure growing in the back of your skull. “Love these tits so much, baby. So fucking perfect,” he murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss in the valley of your breasts and tracing his fingers down, your muscles tensing at his touch. Desire whirls in your stomach, your head light and skin loose on your bones. He drops to his knees on the cool tile floor, kissing your knees as he spreads your legs wider, eyes blowing impossibly wider at the sight of your dripping cunt. “God, made such a mess of you, huh, princess? Want Daddy to get you cleaned up?”

“Please,” you gasp, threading a hand in his curls as he kisses the tender skin of your inner thigh. “Daddy, please. Want your mouth,” you whimper, moaning when his lips meet your slick skin. The pressure between your thighs is instant and familiar, mounting as Matty laps at your folds. He pulls off to bite at your thighs, scraping over his own fading bruises, faint pain tangling with pleasure under your overheated skin. His tongue is hungry as it fucks into you, his moans vibrating gloriously through you as you cling to the counter for dear life.

Your hips grind against his face, euphoria spiralling through you, stoking the fire low in your belly. “That’s it, princess. Gonna help Daddy get you off? My pretty little cockdrunk slut, need it all the time, right?” he murmurs, rubbing circles into your clit as he buries his tongue back into you. You can’t fucking think, everything in your brain drowned out by lips, tongue, teeth, Matty.

“Fuck, yes, Daddy, feels s’fucking good,” you whine, burying your hand in his curls and dragging him even closer, his tongue impossibly deep inside you as you clench around the muscle. Heat unspools in your belly, licking under your skin and setting your blood on fire, your hips rocking unbidden against his mouth. You cry out as Matty wraps his lips around your clit, pleasure-pain screaming from your still-sensitive nerves, all his attention focused on your swollen bud. “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God,” you gasp, pulse jackhammering between your thighs, so fast you’re scared it’ll set off dynamite in your chest.

“Yeah?” Matty smirks up at you, his lips and chin soaked in your arousal. You’re close, embarrassingly so, his tongue sloppy and greedy as he devours your cunt. His quiet moans into your cunt are intensely gratifying, amplifying the ecstasy kicking wildly under your skin. “God, you’re so pretty fallin’ apart like this. Could live between these pretty thighs, princess.” In response, you tighten them around his head, savouring his little gasp as his tongue returns to your cunt, licking over your hole with fervour. Your eyes roll back in your head, swimming dizzily in ecstasy, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your entire body is tense, muscles clenched and expectant as Matty tongue-fucks you within an inch of your life. “M’so close, Daddy, wanna cum,” you whimper, chasing the pleasure that coils tight around your veins, your vision blurring as euphoria chokes you.

Matty circles his fingers over your clit, his callouses scraping deliciously over your tender skin. “Cum for me whenever you’re ready, princess. Wanna feel you fallin’ apart on my tongue. Sweetest fuckin’ girl in the world,” he murmurs, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking hard, a scream tearing free from your throat. Molten desire pools in your belly, your body humming with energy begging to be released. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Give me everything you’ve got,” he moans, your cunt dripping on his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, m’cumming, Daddy, fuck! Oh, God, feels s’good, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper, pure pleasure breaking you wide open, your vision whiting out as Matty’s tongue curls deep inside of you. You throb around him, every muscle in your body suddenly jelly, his hands on your thighs the only thing anchoring you to reality. Matty gets to his feet with a smirk, wordlessly prising your jaw open and sliding his wet fingers into your mouth.

You wrap your fingers around his tongue, sucking and licking the taste of you off his skin and moaning softly. “Good girl. You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum, princess.” He catches your lips in a messy kiss, your slick on his tongue as it sweeps your mouth, his hands finding your hips and pulling you close. “You up for a little day out, angel? Wanna show off my pretty girl, make everyone jealous of me.”

You giggle. “I told you. Anything you want. If you want to bend me over and show the entire fucking world who I belong to, I’ll drop my panties right then and there, promise.”

Matty’s jaw clenches, nails digging into your hips. “Don’t want anyone else seeing you like that, ever,” he growls. “C’mon, princess, go and get dressed. Got a busy day planned,” he grins.

“When did you have time to plan a day out?” you scoff, hopping to your feet and heading back up the stairs.

“Wanted to take you out and ask you to be my girlfriend, but that part got wrecked. I still wanna spoil you, baby.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss into your hair.

You melt into his touch, leaning into him with a soft, private smile. “You’re too sweet,” you say, pulling away from him to step into your discarded underwear and jeans, turning to rifle through his drawers. After a few moments, you find what you were looking for, a shirt that must be a remnant of some distant, misspent youth; so small it’s almost your size, and it must have been cropped short on him because it barely brushes the hem of your jeans. “Did you actually wear this?” you laugh, turning this way and that as you admire how surprisingly well the shirt flatters you.

Matty laughs. “Told you, I was in a band in my twenties. Made some questionable fashion choices, but I made it work.”

Your eyes light up. “You have to show me. Please, I have got to see what you looked like when you fit into this,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“Nah. Looks better on you, anyway,” he says, sliding a pair of sunglasses over your eyes and kissing your cheek, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Have you got a jacket? It’s fucking cold, for June,” he comments, a poor attempt at sounding casual.

It’s not that cold, and he knows damn well you don’t have a jacket. “Hmm, nope.” You pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously. “Guess I’ll have to borrow one of yours,” you say airily, as if that wasn’t his obvious fucking game all along. He slides a leather jacket over your shoulders, well-worn and smelling like him, and your reflection stops you dead. You look fucking hot. You look like a rich man’s scandalously young girlfriend, the graceful lines of him slotting perfectly into the picture. You snap a sweet photo of the two of you as he kisses your temple, and you giggle up at him.

“God, never gonna get over how gorgeous you look wearin’ my clothes, darling,” he murmurs, giving your ass a little smack and hurrying you into the car. His hand is familiar on your thigh as he drives, the warmth of his touch soaking into your skin and fizzing up in your chest. He presses kisses to your cheek at every red light, his gaze adoring every time it lands on you.

You share a lazy, light breakfast, trading kisses over pastries and coffee; yours heaped with cream and sugar and his bitter and black. Matty listens as you explain your friends’ petty little dramas, nodding or frowning at all the right moments but wise enough not to weigh in. He presses you against the car when you leave, digging one hand into your hair and the other into your waist and kissing the sugary-almond taste out of your mouth. “Pretty girl,” he praises, smiling as you flush.

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, kissing his nose as he pulls back and opens the passenger-side door for you. “Such a gentleman,” you giggle, sliding into your seat. You fiddle with the radio, turning to him expectantly when the car stays in park. “Thought you had the whole day planned out?”

“I do,” he grins. “Just waitin’ for you to tell me where you like to shop, angel.”

You smile, rattling off a list that comes as easily as breathing. “Are you gonna take me shopping?” you giggle as the engine purrs to life. “Won’t you get bored?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, reversing out of the car park. “I’ll be like the male lead in a romcom, carrying all your bags and following you like a lost puppy. It’ll be well funny,” he chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh, the image of him laden with shopping he’s paying for and wandering around a boutique looking slightly mystified frankly adorable.

“You’d make a good movie star. Just about pretty enough.” Matty gives an offended scoff and lights a cigarette, sulkily facing away from you as he takes a drag. An old favourite song crackles through the radio and you sing along, uninhibited and happy and maybe even a little in love.

Matty smiles at you indulgently as you start flipping through clothing racks, running your fingers through the fabric and musing which pieces already in your closet they’d pair well with. You pull out a pretty little summer dress, white and lacy with pink florals, and hold it up without looking at the price tag. “What do you think?” you grin, watching him picture you wearing it with a sleazy smile.

“If you want it, it’s yours,” he shrugs. “Go wild, princess.” Not one to look a gift horse, you take him at his word, draping the dress over your arm and fluttering off to flip through the skirts. A scandalously short leather mini catches your eye, and you hold it against your hips thoughtfully.

Matty’s jaw tightens unsubtly. “Oh, don’t be such a boy,” you tease. “I’ll model it for you later,” you add with a grin, and his hands fly to your waist and pull you in.

“Please don’t get me all worked up, sweetheart,” he pleads against your lips. “Don’t wanna have to cut this short because I had to bring you home and take what I need from you, do you?”

Your insides melt into liquid and you flush, heat slick under your skin. “Tempting,” you smirk. “Later tonight?”

His eyes darken, sparkling with allure. “I’m counting the minutes,” he murmurs against your lips, taking an inappropriately greedy handful of your ass and pressing his lips against yours.

Your knees go weak when Matty licks into your mouth, his tongue hedonistic and clever and sure. You indulge yourself in his kiss for a few moments, his body pressing against yours as he threads a hand into your hair. “Mmh, stop trying to distract me,” you say, voice slightly rough with desire. “I’m gonna bleed you dry, darling.”

Matty grins. “Do your worst, angel.”

And you certainly try your fucking hardest, piling his arms high with blouses and dresses and skirts; lipsticks and powders and creams; pumps and heels and sandals. When Matty starts dragging his feet, you take pity on him and pull him into the lingerie section, his jaw going slightly slack as he stares around; he looks vaguely guilty, like he’s been caught somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pluck a delicate, white corset off the rack, holding it up musingly. “How about this? Might be cute with one of those skirts?” Matty swallows thickly, clearly stuck for words that won’t get the pair of you banned from the store and maybe arrested for lewd behaviour.

“I like it.” He clears his throat. “A lot.”

You grin mischievously. “I have an idea, Daddy,” you murmur, the word a delicious taboo as it slips from your lips, scandalously inappropriate on the wide-open shop floor. “Should get yourself some presents, too. Pick some stuff out for me?”

A filthy smirk splits his face, and you shiver, a thrill running up your spine. Matty, it turns out, has extremely discerning tastes, at least when it comes to lingerie. Everything he chooses is carefully considered, holding the lace against your skin to consider the colour, the shape, the cut of the piece and how it’ll sit on your body. You end up heaped with a pile of bras and panties, corsets and teddies, babydoll dresses and chemises, slightly dizzy at the thought of dressing up in them for him.

“Think that’s more than enough to keep us both happy, don’t you, princess?” he grins, leading you to the counter. It takes aeons to get you rung up, and you feel a little faint at the sight of the total; it’s more than five thousand pounds. Matty doesn’t even look fazed, though, kissing you softly and swiping his card like it’s nothing. It’s maybe a little embarrassing, but you feel a faint tingle of arousal at him taking such a massive sum in stride.

You drape yourself across him as he loads your bags into the car, pressing grateful kisses anywhere you can reach. “Thank you, Daddy. Too good to me. Tell me how I can make it up to you.”

Matty smiles, wide and warm and so fucking sweet you can taste the honey dripping from his mouth. “Don’t need to, angel. Just let me spoil you. Like seein’ you happy after I was such a little bitch before. M’sorry, sweet girl.”

You laugh as you slide into the car beside him. “I’ve accepted worse apologies for worse things from far worse men. I think we’re more than even now.” You run your hand over his thigh, cupping his cock with a smirk. “How about I put on a little fashion show for you when we get back? Call it even when I can’t even remember my own name?”

He grins. “You are filthy,” he says delightedly, throwing on a burst of speed that pins you against the seat, suddenly desperate to get the pair of you into a bedroom.

Matty’s mouth is ravenous on yours as soon as you’re alone, dropping the bags to grip your waist hungrily and pull you flush against him. “Mmh, hold on,” you say, breaking away regretfully. “Don’t you wanna see me all dolled up for you, Daddy?”

Groaning, Matty slides his hands down to your waist, spanking you when you bend over to retrieve your bags. A pulse of wanton arousal throbs stickily between your legs, an involuntary moan rumbling from your lips. “Pretty little slut,” he mumbles approvingly. “Wanna get that pretty ass all red for me, god.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, straightening up and leaning back against him. “Anything you want.” He follows you up the stairs, making himself comfortable on the bed as you slip into the bathroom and change. You primp and preen, experimenting with lip swatches and sparkling eyeshadow, switching out your outfit until you’re satisfied.

Matty is waiting on the bed when you slip back into the room. The sight of him, his legs spread wide and clad only in boxers with one hand lazily palming his cock through the fabric, is almost enough to make you abandon your plans. “D’you like the skirt now, Daddy?” you ask, pulling the waistband down to reveal the scrap of deep-red satin clinging to your waist.

“Mmm, I don’t know if I’m quite convinced yet, princess,” he teases. “Think you should show me what it looks like off.”

A heavy pulse of want wells between your thighs, and you grin. “Let me put on a little show for you, first.” You cue up a carefully-curated playlist, swaying your hips in time with the beat and slowly peeling off your shirt. Matty’s breath catches at the sight of you, groaning low in his throat, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Turning and bending over right on cue, you shake your ass, flashing your panties under the skirt; Matty moans outright. “So gorgeous, princess. Gettin’ me so fucking hard, god,” he groans, and as you turn to face him, you’re treated to the sight of him freeing his cock, slowly pumping it and watching you intently. Your skirt slides to the floor as Matty fucks into his fist, delicious, gasping little moans tumbling from his lips. “Fuck, c’mere, please,” he pleads, gaze fixed on you as you stalk to the edge of the bed.

“Wanna sample the merchandise, huh?” you tease, straddling his lap and grinding down on his cock. Matty’s hands come up to your tits, palming and squeezing greedily as your head falls forward to meet his lips. You let him grope you for a few long, delicious minutes, his hands finding your hips, your waist, your ass and digging in. Then, you hop off his lap, and Matty whines. “I’ve still got more stuff to try on,” you grin, slipping away and changing into a sheer-white babydoll with a matching thong.

Matty chokes on air at the sight of you, and you smile angelically, kneeling at the foot of the bed. “God, gonna drive me crazy, darling. Need to fuck you so bad,” he groans, his cock flushed red and dripping as it disappears into his fist.

You giggle. “M’glad you picked this one, Daddy. D’you wanna know what I thought when I saw it?” He nods, dazed and practically drooling. “I thought, ‘That’s what I wanna wear around the house when I’m bein’ a good little housewife for my Daddy,’” you murmur, and Matty has a physical reaction, shuddering as his eyes go wide, the fantasy playing clear as day on his face.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “Angel. Darling. Sweet girl. Come here. Let me fuck you, please,” he begs, hips shifting needily as he pumps his cock.

Draping yourself over his lap, you smile blithely up at him. “You promised to spank me, Daddy,” you pout, and Matty gives a filthy smirk, tracing his fingers over your panties as you shudder and squirm.

“Such a filthy little slut, god,” he murmurs. “This sweet little ass is gonna look so pretty covered in my handprints, baby. Gonna remind you who you belong to every time you sit down, yeah?”

Arousal swirls through your body, wanton need dripping from your neglected cunt. “Belong to you, Daddy. Your girl— ah!” you gasp as Matty’s hand comes down, meeting your ass harshly. A long, low moan pulls from your throat, sweet pain tangling with the burning need under your skin. “Yes, Daddy, fuck. Please, more,” you whimper, face pressed against the sheets as you sink deeper into glorious submission. Three more smacks come in quick succession, the flesh of your ass flaming under his touch.

Matty kneads your tender skin gently, soothing before he delivers another hit, the pain washing over you and coiling into thick, palpable pleasure under your skin. “Love this pretty ass so much, princess,” he praises.

“Want you to fuck me there, one day,” you say dreamily, so lost in desire-slick fantasies that you don’t even process the admission as it falls from your lips. “Wanna be yours. Every single hole,” you murmur, eyes lidded and voice rough with lust. Matty freezes, and you tense. God, was that a weird thing to say? Too early to admit it? Is he gonna think you’re actually a slut now?

A moan of pure, unfiltered lust falls from his mouth and your thighs clench, the fabric of your panties soaked and sticky between your thighs. “Fuck, you can’t say things like that, princess. Gonna make me fuckin’ cum before I’ve even fucked you,” he murmurs, voice low and raked over gravel, thick with lust. His fingers tease over your clit through your panties, and you arch up into his touch, whimpering.

“Then fuck me,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. Want you.” Matty grins, manhandling you until you’re laying on your front, pleasure tense in your belly as he slides your panties to the side.

Your cunt clenches around nothing, gasping and pleading softly as the sheets dig into your cheek. “This okay, angel? Wanna watch the bruises come up on your pretty little ass.”

Lifting your hips, you shake your ass at him, a smirk pulling at your lips. “Gonna think about fucking it, Daddy?” He groans, the sound going straight to your core, slick cunt dripping as you press against him. “S’okay if you do. I have been. When I’m alone, when I want you, fucking myself on my fingers and thinkin’ about you stretching me out there. Would feel so fucking— Ohh,” you break into a moan as Matty enters you with no warning, meeting no resistance from your soaked cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, princess. So fucking filthy, playing with that needy cunt and thinkin’ about me fucking your ass, god,” he groans, dipping his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. A shudder runs through you, the stretch and burn between your thighs familiar, the ache soothing.

Your cunt throbs, thick pulses of arousal hammering in time with your racing heart. “Harder, Daddy, please,” you whine, arching your back. Dizzying lust envelops you, your head hazy and light, practically floating clear of your body. A shocked moan escapes you as Matty spanks you again, pain sinking into pleasure that coils tightly through your insides.

“Don’t be greedy, darling,” he chides. “C’mon, lift your hips a little for Daddy, okay?” Unthinkingly, you obey, letting him puppeteer you, mould you into whatever shape he likes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a pillow under your hips. You glow at the praise, nails scraping the sheets when he fucks deep into you, the change in angle sending waves of pleasure spilling over you.

“Ngh, Daddy, fuck,” you whimper, your words coming out garbled where your face presses into the sheets. Incoherent moans of please and fuck and I need and Daddy stumble from your lips, your body melting into a pleasure-soaked haze as Matty fucks deep into you.

Your hips meet obscenely, lewd sounds filling the room as your world narrows down to the four walls, aware of nothing but him. “That’s it, princess. Let it all out, let Daddy hear those pretty noises, yeah? Nobody else gets to hear you like this, right?” he coos, pinching your clit and moaning softly as your cunt clenches around him reflexively.

“N-no,” you promise shakily, struggling to pull the words to the forefront of your mind, delirious with pleasure. “Only you, Daddy. Only one who can fuck me like this. So fucking good.” You choke on a gasp, Matty’s hips meeting yours over and over, your vision swimming, your body set adrift in an ocean of sheer ecstasy.

“Such a sweet girl,” Matty murmurs, teasing your clit as you whine powerlessly. Seemingly just for the fun of it, he slaps your ass again, the sweet sting tearing you open. Pleasure rushes through you, cradling your very organs, stoking a fire that chars your bones. “God, I love your pretty ass, darling. Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole.” His words sink into your skin, wrapping tight around your sore muscles, ecstasy coiling in your veins. With what feels like a monumental effort, you rock your hips up towards him, Matty impossibly deep inside you.

The tip of his cock brushes that perfect spot inside you, sending a bright jolt of pure euphoria fizzing up your spine. A keening wail falls from your lips, a loud, uninhibited sound of undiluted pleasure. “Gettin’ close, angel? Wanna cum for your Daddy?” You nod wildly, indistinct, stifled pleas tumbling from your lips like prayers. “Go on, princess, cum for me. Cum all over my fuckin’ cock, make me cum.” In that same obedient, thoughtless way, you do. You choke and whimper and whine, drool pooling in your mouth and dripping out against the sheets as you moan the only word you know: Daddy. Euphoria burns white-hot under your skin, melting your organs until your body is made of liquid desire, messily strung together by flimsy ligaments. Matty’s touch is the only thing anchoring you to reality, your head still hazy as you drift back to Earth.

Matty’s pace is erratic, frenzied and wild and hot as your cunt pulses with aftershocks. “Cum on me,” you beg. “On my cunt, on my tits, on my face, I don't care. Just wanna see it, wanna feel it, want you to mark me, make me yours,” you plead, and Matty groans. He gives your ass one more swift smack for good measure and flips you over, your bruised skin screaming in protest as it presses into the sheets. Three quick passes of his fist over his cock and he’s cumming, white ropes splashing across your belly and up to your tits, painting your skin in a filthy, lurid display. “Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur as he breathes heavily above you. “Love bein’ your little cumdump.”

His head tips back, a disbelieving laugh bubbling free. “Such a good, sweet, pretty girl with such a filthy mouth, princess. So fuckin’ hot.” You smile proudly, dragging your fingers through his mess and sucking the taste of him off them. Matty’s eyes go wide, his head falling to lap at the skin between your tits, kissing and sucking ravenously at them. He makes his way up and presses his lips to yours, the taste of him smearing between your mouths, the kiss a filthy thing, alive with desire. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbles, hushed like he isn’t even aware of the words, and you flush.

“So are you,” you smile as he falls next to you, gazing adoringly into your eyes as your chests heave.

“We should get cleaned up,” he says with a weak chuckle, and you mumble an affirmative without even pretending to move. “Just a minute, princess, then I’ll get you cleaned up, cook us some dinner, yeah?” he promises, kissing you gently as your eyes flutter closed. Of course, the pair of you wake an hour or so later, dried cum on your belly and crusting into your brand-new lingerie, your thighs uncomfortably wet and sticking. Matty carries you into the bath, takes gentle care of you, the promised meal waiting when you pull yourself out of the now-lukewarm water. Pillar candles glow atop the dining table, the light sparkling off your wine glasses, and your heart melts.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall deeply, irrevocably in love with him; every passing day reveals something new to adore. The words spring to your lips at any and all moments, both opportune and not, and it starts to become a real struggle to swallow them back down. You don’t want to be too much, too soon, and truthfully you’re scared of what his answer will be, and even more so of how you’ll react.

Your private-not-secret relationship is your so-called friends’ favourite topic of discussion, so much so that you’re afraid it’ll get back to your parents before you’re ready for them to know. You try to keep them happy with minor tidbits, throw them off with misdirections (yes, he’s older; no, I won’t tell you by how much; no, my parents don’t know him), but their endless reserves of intrusion are starting to wear you down. Thea is your only confidante, the only one besides Matty himself who knows the ins and outs, and you’re fucking dying for someone new to brag and gush to. So when Matty texts you one day in mid-August, asking if you want to meet his friends, you jump at the chance.

My friends are absolutely desperate to meet you, by the way

Insist they have to meet this girl I won’t shut up about

I’ve been told to tell you Emerald Hill at 10pm on Saturday, and not to take no for an answer

If that tells you what kind of a bunch they are, fair warning

i’d love to :)

come pick me up at 8? then we’ll have time to get presentable before we have to go ;)

By the time Saturday rolls around, you’re practically fizzing with excitement, much to your parents’ suspicion — they’ve been sceptical all summer of how happy you’ve been, curious glances and pursed lips every time you so much as smile at your phone. The excitement has turned to nerves as you’re leaving Matty’s, though, roiling in your gut as you obsess over every detail that could go wrong. Matty wraps comforting arms around your waist from behind, kissing the top of your head and holding you close, the thump of his heartbeat at your back soothing. “Stop worryin’ so much, love. S’gonna be fine, okay?” He gives a boyish little grin as he opens the car for you. “Can’t wait for you to meet my boys. All my favourite people in one place,” he says, and you smile softly, that warm, fizzing affection you don’t want to give a name to creeping up your chest.

Matty lets you choose the music as you drive, shaking his head every time you queue up another glitter-gel-pen pop song. He takes your hand and leads you into the bar, a classy little place tucked into a street corner, his eyes lighting up as he catches sight of whoever you’re here to meet, swallowed into a bear hug by a tall blond when he reaches the table.

“Ah, mate, it’s been too long,” the other man says, pulling back and offering you a hand. “George.”

You look up into his face and your jaw drops. The hot DJ from that fateful night at 102 grins down at you, and your eyes widen as you try to take back your composure. Swallowing your tongue, you smile and give your name, taking a seat as Matty pulls a chair out for you. Just as you’re getting over that shock, you lock eyes with Charli and she smirks back at you.

“Sunshine Baby!” she exclaims. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laugh, the tension in your shoulders loosening at the merest semblance of familiarity. “How do you remember that?” you laugh disbelievingly.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Matty interrupts.

Charli shrugs. “Sort of. Sunshine over here racked up a three hundred quid tab and tipped me a hundred on top. Don’t forget that in a hurry.”

You cover your face in embarrassment. “That makes me sound like an alcoholic,” you groan. “Your fault, by the way.” You poke Matty’s shoulder affectionately. “I was mad at you, practically fucking bought out the bar about it. Entire place got a free drink off me.”

“I like her,” another member of the group chimes in with a laugh. You look up to meet the eyes of the speaker, and– Jesus. One group of friends shouldn’t be allowed to have this many hot people in it. “Ross,” he says, and you smile politely. The last member of the party introduces himself as Adam, and you greet him with a smile, letting yourself get absorbed into rapid conversation and raucous laughter. “Right,” Ross interrupts. “Matty — you’re picking up the tab,” he declares. “Oh, don’t make that face,” he says as Matty scoffs. “Amount you drink, I’m not paying it on a teacher’s salary.”

You giggle. “Aw, give him a break. These days, I’m spending his money faster than he can make it,” you joke, and Charli cackles. You’re pleasantly tipsy, the alcohol loosening your lips and lifting the weight of anxiety in your chest, conversation flowing between you as easily as the wine in your glass. You cling to Matty as you leave, waving cheerful goodbyes and promising to text Charli to arrange a girls’ night.

“I’m gonna regret introducing you two, aren’t I?” Matty sighs, pulling you in close against the unseasonably cold wind, the warmth of his body soothing.

“No,” you giggle. “I love her. Wish I had friends like yours,” you say, wistful and slightly self-pitying as you slide into the car.

Matty cups your cheek, leaning in across the console to press a tender, loving kiss against your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. But you have me. Always gonna have me, yeah?”

Your heart flutters, those three little words rising in your throat once again. “I guess you’re a pretty good consolation prize,” you tease, pushing down the frightening intimacy of the moment with levity.

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles. “Wanna come back with me? Or do you want me to drop you home?”

You scoff. “Is that even a question?”

The rest of your summer passes quickly, too quickly. You spend more time at Matty’s house than home, more and more of your things finding their place there as time passes. You start going to visit him at work without any other justification, every step nerve-wracking as your father’s presence looms. You have one unbelievably close call when he’s in the lobby as you’re leaving, frantically slamming the door close button in the lift before he can turn and spot you. Ruby stays just as hostile, seething at you and muttering warnings that Matty’ll be bored soon every time you pass her by. You take a petty, savage pleasure in tormenting her, just a little, deliberately pulling Matty in for long, filthy kisses as you open his office door.

By the time you can’t put off going back to uni any longer, there’s barely any point in you being home at all. Naturally, Matty offers to be the one to drive you up, and you seize the opportunity to be alone with him for the last time in however fucking long. Your father is privately relieved not to be the one to have to, you can tell, accepting your explanation that Thea’s just passed her test and she’s offered to drive me. You don’t mind, do you? without question. Shows how much he knows; Thea’s failed her practical six times and counting.

When you arrive, Matty insists that you don’t lift a finger, carrying all of your boxes upstairs and giving you something to ogle in the process. You’re the last one back, your housemates smirking at you and nudging each other at the sight of him, fourteen years your senior with grey in his hair, kissing you filthy and unashamed in plain view. Later, you mouth behind his back, their answering giggles reminding you that you do have good friends, after all.

Matty looks devastatingly gorgeous in the late-autumn sunset, leaning against his car with a cigarette dangling from his lips. You snatch it with a smirk, stretching up to peck his lips and taking a deep drag. His smile melts you into goo, your heart hammering so fast it might smash free of your ribcage. If you don’t say it now, you’ll lose your nerve.

“I love you,” you rush out, muffled against his chest as he holds you, arms cradling your body tight and warm and safe. “You don’t have to say it back, I just… I do, and I want you to know.”

Matty pulls back to look at you, eyes soft with affection and adoration and maybe even something deeper. “Do you know how long I’ve been waitin’ to hear you say that, princess? God, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” he groans, his hands at your waist the only thing keeping you upright as your knees go weak. “Think I might die, havin’ to be without you these next few weeks.” You giggle, giddy with infatuation and devotion and… God, you can just say love, now. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry. Could never stay away from you.”

#take a shot every time i reference one of my friends' fics in this series #fly high prof matty forever in our hearts #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut #white and gold

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yessa-vie · 4 months

Text

PROLOGUE || HEART STRING OF GOLD || OT8! ATEEZ.

00 || HEART STRING OF GOLD || OT8! ATEEZ.

→ PARING. OT8! ateez x fem!reader.

→ GENDER. angst. tiny bit of fluff. suggesttive. ateez lore au. soulmate au.

→ WC. 10,137.

→ RATING. NC-17, R (mdni!).

→ IMPORTANT. more like a short backstory to start, than an actual beggining of it. dimentional traveling. cursing. angst. slight violence (mentioned and heard by the reader). mature content (indication of sex as a coping mechanism, but no smut). ateez, halateez and reader in the same space, but not really (they get familiarized with the reader, but not the other way around).

⇦ || hsog || masterlist || ⇨

It was time, they all knew it. All of them knew what that choice meant. All of them felt the weight of that choice. Your image entering each of their minds as they exchanged glances before one of them held Cromer in his gloved hands. The image of your face once again took over the minds of those present. What they were doing was for you. Everything was for you.

As soon as the Cromer was rotated, a spacetime vortex was opened. One of those present quickly entered, a last exchange of glances with those who would remain in that world, the secret wish that the Cromer would be protected, that you would be protected. Their work was far from finished, but they also couldn't stay much longer, it was necessary, it wasn't right, but it was necessary.

When the other side of the vortex opened, the Cromer remained in his hand, the sand still falling, he would have enough time to do what he needed to do. The place was old, dusty, full of things, but with enough space to move around and relax, the late day sunlight was already illuminating only part of the warehouse in which he was, his gaze quickly scanning the space before pausing in a figure lying on the sofa.

With a heavy sigh and the Cromer on his left side, the stranger took a few steps towards the sofa, the movement of shadows and the noise of the soles on the concrete disturbed the rest of the man who was sleeping – and who possibly will have some pain in his neck when he wakes up – on the couch.

Hongjoong's eyes widened when he saw the presence in front of him. The stranger was dressed completely in black, coat, mask, hat, shoes, gloves... There wasn't a single piece of clothing that wasn't black, the silver accessories being the only color that could be seen over the black. The stranger then handed the Cromer to Hongjoong who just watched his movements, precise, determined, the stranger's eyes never leaving Hongjoong's figure who remained sheepish on the sofa.

The sand was already running out when the Cromer was placed on the table in front of Hongjoong, when the stranger's hand left the object, it was as if everything disappeared, a lost and confused dream, or at least, that's what Hongjoong would think if he hadn't whether by the object being in front of him, just as the stranger had previously left him. The curious eyes analyzing the object while the hand went towards the cell phone, all his friends wanted to meet at the warehouse.

Hongjoong's smile was a mix of feelings that he couldn't describe. The stranger looked familiar, but he had never seen anyone like that. The object seemed to shine, catching his attention, but it also seemed dangerous in some way. Perhaps the others could help him understand what had happened when they arrived, as he was still trying to understand how that stranger appeared in his dream, but the object he was carrying was in front of him.

This was the fifth call in three days you had received to go to the Command Center. It didn't take much for you to know that the leaders of the Black Pirates would soon act, the problem was knowing when that would happen. You knew them well enough to know some of the tricks up their sleeves, but they knew you just as well to know exactly which ones to throw at which time so you couldn't tell what their next move was.

This chess game was already old, it was almost laughable how well you knew each other despite never having been in the same space, considering they ran away from you like the plague, like they weren't the plague, the gum stuck to your shoe. Hatred and anger were the only feelings you allowed yourself to feel towards the leaders of the Black Pirates, they were the main fuels to make you run after them as if they were oxygen, fueling the fire that burned inside you.

Your superiors seeking answers didn't help with that at all. Even though you knew your feelings were wrong, even though you knew how harmful they could be, you and your superiors shared the anger and hatred towards the group of rebels that had emerged two years ago. They were the group that had been active the longest, promoting chaos and disrupting the Strickland government's plans.

In the last two years, they managed to cause more damage to society than expected, even though they were not actively present, the group's followers – called Black Pirates – did not help at all, maintaining what was defended by their leaders, especially when they disappeared.

No one seemed to know where they were going, but you did. The memories of the place they ran to, whenever it was possible, came back with full force in your mind. The fact that they had the Cromer did nothing to help them get caught, especially considering that whoever was responsible for catching them had no idea that they used the Cromer to appear and disappear at will.

But you couldn't tell this detail to anyone, not just because of the promise you had made to a ghost, but because of the questions that information would lead to. The fact that you and your team were part of Crisis Management helped in your personal crusade against the Black Pirates that only your team knew about, which was already too many people considering who you were.

As soon as you entered the room designated for you and your team, Jeongin and Ryujin appeared on each side, Jisung quickly passing by leaving a cup of coffee on your table, heading in the direction of Chaeryeong, Yeji and Chan. You managed to see one of the desert areas of Strickland, rolling your eyes when Jeongin handed over the order papers, casting a glance at Ryujin when you heard a laugh coming from the girl.

Since you were fifteen, when your world fell into pieces, you decided to focus on other things, until contact with your brother was cut off completely. It was then that you decided to become Strickland's main weapon, so that no one would feel what you were feeling – even if you couldn't express that feeling openly.

Everyone there knew each other from many years under the Strickland government, mainly thanks to the Prestige Academy, which wasn't much of a surprise when you decided to form a team of them all. The first was Chan, the last to accept the request for the team was Jeongin, many tried to take his place, but you denied, the superiors tried to place others among the team, causing several private sessions between you and them, but at no point did you weaken.

The team was that, if someone didn't want to participate, then the team would have one less, but only the names on your list would be there. After one of the last private sessions with the superiors, Jeongin found you with Hyunjin and Ryujin – your two shadows –, both tending to your injuries, but he only accepted the next day, when a task had been separated for everyone and he joined your team, silently and consciously.

You could feel his eyes on you more than anyone else’s. Everyone knew that feelings were prohibited at Strickland, everyone knew how to mask what they felt well, ignoring them most of the time, but sometimes they overflowed, but the twelve of you managed to keep the dam stable even in those moments.

Respect was quickly earned by you with each successful task. You were a unit, no one entered, and no one left. They were more your family than your own. They understood that your anger at the Black Pirates went beyond disturbing the peace, Chan had his training with your brother, the others knew the legend his name carried, the weight it brought to your shoulders along with your family name.

Jeongin spoke a few details with each passing of the paper, the coffee cooling in your hand, the last thing you needed was a burnt tongue. Your eyes went from the sheets delivered by Jeongin, to the images transmitted on Yeji and Chaeryeong's screens. Your eyes fell on Seungmin in a corner with Minho, Chan and Hyunjin.

Jisung and Yongbok were quickly at your side with Changbin, listening to what Jeongin finished telling you, making you sigh and run your hands over your face, your eyes burning from the sleepless night, your back sore from the armchair you managed to nap in for three hours before the call to go to the center.

“Do they know anything concrete or are they going to send us there just to waste time?”

Your irritation made the other five around you laugh, receiving an eye roll in response.

“It seems like one of the Black Pirates members let it slip that the leaders are close to one of the old bases,” Changbin sighed, his hand resting on the gun on his hip as a natural reflex, you sighed, taking the coffee with a few sips, seeing a small smile on Jisung's lips as you moaned in pleasure as you felt the drink go down your throat. “They don’t know which one, but they are sending the main Crisis Management units to the bases.”

“And why the hell are they sending us to the most forgotten and remote base of all? Even more so with our recent achievements... It doesn’t make any sense!”

“They said we should see it as some kind of vacation, as congratulations for everything we’ve done.”

Seungmin's voice made you look in his direction, his voice was loud, reverberating through the room, but he was focused on what Minho was frantically typing on the computer. Yongbok just shook his head at the others reponse.

“And which of the Black Pirates did the report? We have brought so many of them recently, how can we believe their words?”

Jisung always doubted someone's words. He always said that the body was the best way to know the truth, he hated torture sessions, interrogations, private sessions – as your superiors liked to call them. His eyes fell on you, your eyes intent on Minho’s computer.

“The terrain isn’t the best either, thanks to the sandstorms,” Yeji sighed looking at the latest satellite images with the blueprints they had offered. “At least the part we’re staying in appears to be impenetrable, so the sand might not have been able to get in.”

“I have already ordered three cars, they should be released and properly fueled in two or three hours.”

Hyunjin's eyes left the cell phone to fall on Chan and then on you, your eyes fell on the small purple mark on his neck, slightly hidden by his long black hair. You exchanged small smiles before he went back to looking at the computer screen and you went back to focusing on the photos and information that Jeongin and Yongbok spread across your desk.

Your head fell to the side, finding the side of Jeongin's body that didn't move, but his left hand found your head, fingers passing lightly through your disheveled locks, fingertips passing lightly over your face and neck, making you shiver a little, feeling a small laugh come out of Jeongin, before pushing your head against his stomach.

Ryujin sat next to you on the chair, her right arm wrapped around your waist, a simple kiss was placed by her on your shoulder, while her other hand rested on your thigh, fingers making light caresses there. You allowed yourself to smile. That room was a safe place for that, for you.

Since you chose each of the people present in that room, they have undergone changes in their training, the superiors have become more flexible with them, even if they have become more inflexible with you. You had been contaminated by feelings a long time ago, over time, you ended up contaminating your own team, but by consensus, the only moments this would be demonstrated were when you were together and alone, away from the eyes of the world.

Those eleven people healed you in many ways, you were more than grateful for their presence in your life, you would kill and die for them, but for everyone, that was duty, but in truth, you loved each one of those eleven people, but you never allowed yourself to think about it too much, your mind going back to the former nine people you loved unconditionally who abandoned you.

One of them never to return.

Your right hand left the cup of coffee that Jisung had brought, moving towards your chest, your fingers quickly tracing the outline of the pendant that weighed occasionally around your neck, the memories and meaning of that necklace weighing more and more as you remembered of its presence, but you couldn't remove it, even when you should have, your movements never completed the act, needing others to do it for you.

Despite the blouse, it was as if you could feel each of the carefully made cracks in the glass, the eight pieces that came together in the center, surrounded by a thread of gold forming a heart. The nine people came back to you, and you felt your stomach drop. They had brought this into your life, they had taught you to feel, to sing, to dance, to listen to music, to enjoy everything that life has to offer, they had destroyed you and these people would be able to start rebuilding you, as they have been doing for two years now.

"Where are they?"

Your eyes went to Jeongin, Yongbok and Seungmin, the only ones who could know where the Black Pirates were and could be questioned. It was Jeongin who responded, taking some of the sheets back. Ryujin quickly standing next to you.

“The whistleblower is on Level 03,” you nodded, getting up from your chair, your eyes closing for a moment trying to get rid of the burning sensation that was in them. “(y/n), no -”

"What is the number?"

Jeongin exchanged glances with Ryujin and Chan before nodding, leaving first, with you and Ryujin following shortly after. Your group was very well divided, as you idealized and created the group, you were the main leader, Chan was the secondary leader along with Jeongin, unless you needed to be absent, then Chan would take your place. While you were leading everything, Chan handled the external missions while Jeongin handled the internal ones.

There were several reasons for the names you chose to make up the team, but the main one was the way everyone behaved in general, with the exception of Jeongin, as his background was the closest to yours. Both your families were high-ranking, both grew up the same way, when your brother started going on missions alone, Jeongin was your main friend in that place, he understood the internal squeamishness, he understood what being on your team meant, his family created countless reasons for him not to enter, but seeing you – one of the only people he could say he cared about other than his family – all hurt, he went against his family's judgement.

When you three arrived at Level 03, you could already hear the screams of agony, the smell of burning flesh, the smell of blood infiltrating your nostrils with full force as the screams reverberated in your eardrums. You couldn't say you weren't used to it; your features had been neutral since they left your team's room, the blood ran cold through your veins just from the noises that could be heard behind the doors, the prayers that were heard through trembling and desperate voices.

That was when Jeongin stopped in front of a solid iron door, two guards with the lock released, but none stopped him from opening the door, causing screams to meet your body on the other side. A simple exchange of looks and you knew they would block your path, as it was Jeongin's older brother who was taking care of that interrogation, hence his resistance to telling you the location.

Because his family had a grudge against you.

Hatred, if you could say, especially Jeongin's parents, as for his brothers, it was a mix. You knew that the oldest respected you, despite the irritation always present whenever you two meets, the youngest never seemed to have been affected by the family's decision regarding your treatment, so much so that he was one of the few allowed to participate in the training of your team, whether as a listener or hands on.

The screams coming from inside the room stopped, leaving only the murmurs and cries coming from the Black Pirate who was being interrogated. Even though you, Ryujin and Jeongin knew that the two guards wouldn't do anything to hurt you, your hand went to the gun that was in your holster, while the other stayed on your hip, movements that didn't go unnoticed by Ryujin who discreetly left the gun prepared to be used if necessary.

You can discern two different footsteps, mumbling approaching and already preparing to meet Jeongin's older brother's irritable face. Your friend and third in command rolled his eyes when he found you with a mocking smile towards him and his brother, despite always staying by your side, Jeogin wants to maintain as much of a civilized relationship as possible, especially after you and his brother fought when you and the others returned from your first official mission with Jeongin.

"What do you want?"

“The exact words of the Black Pirate who ratted out the leaders.”

The cynical laugh didn't shake the smile that remained present on your face. The older man's eyes fell on Jeongin who kept his eyes fixed on you, making his brother roll his eyes. Your smirk grew a little wider at that.

“You know you need to go through the superiors to get this information, even though you are who you are.”

Despite nodding, your eyes found the red dot inside the room he had left, a smart smile taking over your lips, Jeongin just followed your gaze, the small smile on the third-in-command's lips told you that he had understood and that what you wanted to do was possibly feasible.

“You know as well as I do that this is nothing more than a courtesy,” your steps were small and focused, Jeongin's brother's face became serious, especially when one of the youngest's hands rested on his shoulder, “you know just like I do, that I always get what I want, and I want the fucking whistleblower recording.”

It was the umpteenth time that Hongjoong felt the mattress on his back, San's hand extended soon after, accompanied by a simple: 'sorry, captain'. His brown eyes trailed to the three distant figures observing their physical training. With a small sigh, Hongjoong took San's hand who quickly helped the second oldest to stand up.

“How much longer do they expect us to do this?”

“We’ve only been at this for two hours, Hongjoong.”

The older of the two sighed and noticed San's eyes looking around the space they were in. It definitely wasn't the best despite being a mansion, or at least it had been one a few years ago, before the desert destroyed part of it. Fortunately, that day's training was indoors, the large, hollow windows helping to pass air through the spaces of the abandoned mansion.

Hongjoong's eyes met Yeosang's Mirror, known as Logan, although it was still strange to see such familiar faces linked to people with personalities almost opposite to his and his friends. It was when Yunho's Mirror – Uno – took a step forward that Hongjoong realized that he and San had been standing still for a considerable time, but before anyone could say anything, the wooden doors were thrown open and the Mirror of himself – Lucky – came in slightly out of breath, making everyone's attention falls on him.

“Follow me, everyone,” the voice reverberated, but instead of coming out as controlled as always, it was trembling, in shock, which only made everyone exchange worried looks. "She is here."

That was all it took for everyone who wasn't part of his group of friends to run out the door he left open. All eyes fell on Hongjoong who was following quickly, climbing the steps worn down by the desert sand. It was not easy to capture the attention or destabilize the men who had brought Hongjoong and his friends to that reality, which only made his curiosity increase.

Three cars were coming in the direction they were in, Hongjoong and the others' eyes were panicked for a moment. The cars were still far away, there would be time for them to flee the place, go to the stone ruins that they had to memorize as they headed towards the abandoned mansion, but when none of the men in black made a move, a slight shiver passed down his spine.

“How do you know it’s her?”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong exchanged looks, hands indicating for the younger ones to remain silent. Instead of answering, one of the men in front handed over the binoculars, considering he hadn't moved since before everyone stopped, Hongjoong bet it was Seonghwa's Mirror – Mars.

“Symbol of Strickland headquarters,” his eyes focused on Mingi’s Mirror – Iyaah – looking through the binoculars, mouth slightly open before Seonghwa noticed his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Nightingale also warned us about it.”

Nightingale.

The name that the ATEEZ boys heard from the moment they arrived at that place. The only four certainties they had from the moment they were brought in and were being trained by the men who looked like their twins were:

1. Nightingale was the main source of information.

2. She, whoever she was, was of extreme importance.

3. Strickland was an extremely corrupt and restricted place.

4. They were being trained to take the place of the men in front of them.

"Who is she?"

Wooyoung's voice was heard, but no one made any attempt to suppress one of the youngest in the group. The men in black just looked at Wooyoung, footsteps tired and fearful, not for their group, not for the three vehicles that were getting closer and closer with each second lost to them, but rather for “her”, someone from the Strickland government, someone who was inside one of the vehicles approaching the abandoned mansion.

“We have a lot to update you on and little time, get everything and meet us at the hidden vehicles, you have five minutes.”

Mars announced, returning to stand next to Lucky, while the other six turned to Hongjoong and the others, passing them nimbly. With a simple shake of the head, everyone else followed the stairs they had previously climbed, spreading out to the places they had used, picking up any object that could help place them in there, as they had been instructed.

Seonghwa stopped for a moment when he heard small arguments, his eyes looking for who exactly was arguing with who, finding Wooyoung, Shinwoo – Jongho's Mirror –, Yeosang and Iyaah. Shinwoo held Wooyoung's black bandana in his hands, Iyaah took Jongho's basketball and took it to another separate corner.

“Just give the fucking bandana back and we can get out of here, how fucking hard is it?”

“The difficulty,” Shinwoo chuckled awkwardly, his eyes meeting Seonghwa’s for a second before turning back to Wooyoung and Yeosang, the latter holding the former to avoid a fight, “is that we need to leave this behind us, just like some other things."

“We never had to leave anything behind, you always said we could never leave anything behind! Why the fuck now?”

Yeosang's voice reverberated through the space they were in and Seonghwa watched Shinwoo's fingers pass through Wooyoung's bandana, a sad smile on his lips.

“This is about her, isn’t it?” The eyes of the three met Seonghwa's, the hard steps towards them, the question making Wooyoung and Yeosang look confused at Shinwoo who squeezed the bandana between his fingers. “That's what changed,” the eyes fell on the bandana before Shinwoo placed it behind his own body, his lips pursed, but the eyes didn't leave Seonghwa's curious ones, “her being here changed the plans, didn't it?”

"Two minutes."

San's Mirror – Howl – appeared taking the bandana from Shinwoo's hand, Seonghwa’s eyes falling on him for a moment, although he didn't seem to worry, but Seonghwa noticed the sad eyes falling on the bandana, just as Shinwoo had done some time before.

“We will explain everything when we reach the ruins, but we need to leave now.”

Wooyoung and Yeosang looked at Seonghwa who nodded, lips pursed, eyes scanning Shinwoo's face for any sign he could give, but nothing came out. He had realized that the ‘Mirrors’ had learned to manipulate their features, during the months they all spent together, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yunho had been observing them all, their reactions, how they behaved, which caused their attention to be captured, how and when they were captured.

“Finish getting your things, we don’t have much time.”

Wooyoung and Yeosang nodded, going back to picking up their things before being interrupted. The older man's eyes met Yunho's, the conversation they had a few weeks ago returning to both of their minds. The differences between the two groups became more evident with each passing day. The breaking point getting closer and closer.

Despite the sand and the wear it caused, especially due to sandstorms, the site was in considerable condition, extremely preserved considering the time it was empty between visits organized by the Command Center to the new and old bases. However, like any location suffering State of Siege, the twelve split up to investigate the base as a whole, just to ensure that it had not been affected or was being guarded.

As a leader, to pass through some areas, it was necessary to clear your identification, considering how old and abandoned that base was, security was one of the firsts Strickland's, simple and easily corruptible if you understood security and had the ability to infiltrating the system, which you knew the Black Pirates were capable of, especially their leaders, your mind quickly going to Uno and Logan, the ones you knew were the most capable of such a feat.

With simple signs, you continued deeper and deeper into the abandoned mansion towards the base's Communication Center alone, against Jeongin, Hyunjin and Ryujin's wishes. Thanks to the sand spread around the place, your footsteps could be heard, making your senses heightened, considering any movement, fingers on the trigger of the gun, controlled breathing, you expected everything, some homeless person lost asleep, or even animals, snakes and scorpions being the main companions in those places as your team remembered so fondly, Yongbok and Chaeryeong in particular.

But nothing prepared you for finding a black bandana with thin white designs that adorned the entire fabric, making your feet plant on the floor, the basketball at the foot of the door where the bandana hugged the handle.

The door that led to the Communication Center.

Your ragged breathing didn't help you understand what was happening, it didn't help you hear every possible movement, movement that could mean that someone was there, that they were there.

Your eyes roamed every corner of the corridor you were in, you quickly turned on the gun's flashlight, illuminating the spaces in the hope of seeing one of them hidden, wrapped in black clothes so different from the people they were, but not so different from who they had become, partly being your fault.

You swallowed hard when you noticed that the space was empty, the noise of the soles of your boots in contact with the sand no longer mattered over the buzzing that bothered your ears. As your foot touched the ball, pushing it slightly to the side, your hands let go of the gun hanging at your side, trembling fingers untying the bandana attached to the doorknob. The fabric was not worn as expected, fingers working quickly to unroll the piece looking for a sign, object, something written, anything, but nothing was there.

Your hands went quickly to your face, stopping not long after when you noticed a simple detail. The smell of the bandana. The smell was Wooyeon. No smell lasted that long, no object lasted that long in the desert without some kind of wear and tear, unless it was properly cared for, supervised. A weight took over your chest, the bandana getting tangled between your fingers and hand, the image of the last time you had seen Wooyeon with that bandana coming back with full force in your mind.

The sound of Changbin's voice on your communication point made you return to why you were there, alone, finding objects that reminded you of them. The bandana quickly being tied around your wrist, the flashlight being disconnected from the gun finding your mouth as you worked on clearing it so your team could enter the Communication Center.

“(y/n), any news?”

“Now entering the Communication Center,” your response was quick but breathless, making Chan worry for a moment, “it’s okay, Chan, the door is just stuck.”

Which wasn't a lie at all as your arms pulled the door open, releasing the dark hallway to the Communication Center, the flashlight returning to your hand again. Spider webs can be seen in the corners. So, they didn't go in completely, you cursed your own thoughts as you held the basketball with one arm going to the identification point, putting in your code and registration, releasing the lock making the entire base reverberate with life.

“Coming to you, be careful!”

“Chan, everything is full of cobwebs, I doubt there is anything of real danger here,” you laughed quietly, hearing a small grumble from the other side before an 'ok' from Chan, your feet quick to warn Central that you had arrived. “The quicker we resolve it, the quicker we get back.”

“Since you’re there, you could turn on the air conditioning, wouldn’t you say boss?”

Seungmin's voice reverberated through their communication point, causing a set of laughs to emerge alongside your own.

“It’ll be the first thing I do as soon as I get to the Command Base, Seungie!”

Despite the smile on your lips, the basketball and bandana were still heavy on the left side of your body. Your mind playing tricks on you, memories from before it all happened, the remnants that seemed to say they had been there. As if that wasn't enough, when your feet finally reached the Command Center, you could see a small drone, just like the ones Logan used to use with you, but it was broken, parts were missing, but you knew it was theirs.

Your eyes quickly finding a memory chip underneath the drone. That was something Wooyeon, Logan and Shinwoo loved to do with you, leaving little clues to something bigger, usually all orchestrated by Lucky and Mars, but all the boys had a hand in whatever they had planned. Your mind taking you to the last time that had happened, making you take your hand to your chest, biting your lower lip, even if you weren't feeling the pendant with your protective clothing on, the gold and glass seemed to cool that entire area, your breathing heavy in the throat.

They had entered.

The quick steps that came towards you made you place the ball and the drone inside the backpack that weighed on your back, the chip finding one of your front pockets, the bandana still firmly wrapped around your hand. Your fingers quickly typing in the codes needed to inform Central that you had arrived at the base, as well as the codes needed to fully activate the base.

As soon as part of your team passed through the door, cold air began to be released throughout the base, causing some to celebrate, their weapons already abandoned at their sides as they scattered the remains of their equipment. Minho and Chan quickly went to meet you next to one of the computers.

“What’s the condition?”

“Prehistoric computers, but the base seems to be in order,” you replied to Chan as your eyes swept over the cameras that began to turn on across all the various screens. “Can you check the usage history, Minho?”

“I just need to connect with my laptop, as soon as I connect with the network, we will all have access to everything, if the last visitors have done their work correctly.”

The three of you laughed and your eyes fell on Chan who was observing your features. He and Jeongin were always able to read you easier than the others.

"We can talk?"

“Chan-”

“(y/n), please.”

You sighed, Minho's eyes fell on the two of you before his eyes focused on the laptop screen, his nimble fingers typing the codes necessary for him to have complete access, being able to share this access with everyone else on the team.

“Minho, let me know as soon as everything is ok, I want to take a look at the recordings,” he nodded, his eyes fixed on the screen as lines and lines of code appeared. Your eyes then turned to Chan who was still watching you worriedly. “We need a shower; can you walk me to the room?”

“Jeongin?” Everyone's eyes met the third leader's, cheeks puffing with water. “Let’s pack our things, organize everything so there’s always someone watching, at least until we organize the entire system.” Jeongin nodded, swallowing the water and quickly looking around, counting how many of the team were already at the base. Your eyes fearfully met Chan's who smiled toothlessly at you, hand outstretched towards the rooms. "Let's go?"

“Did you find anything intriguing while searching?”

Was the first question you could form once the two of you left the sharp eyes and ears of your team. The hope that Chan had seen something out of place in the base still emanated from you, because if that wasn't the reason for the conversation, you would probably be caught covering up possible relevant information about Strickland's Public Enemies #1.

“Someone was here before us,” the stiffening of your body was enough for Chan to notice that you already knew that information, but he didn't seem angry. “I found a partially torn sheet in one of the rooms, what made you notice?”

As both stopped walking, your eyes found Chan's outstretched hand, a piece of paper folded between his fingers, taking it and putting it in one of the pockets, then you would think about it, once you are at the comfort of your room.

“Some of the spaces were very clean and I didn't find any animals along the way like we normally do,” that was true, but Chan didn't need to know about the other items you had found, “the sand also had places that were spread out carefully, not by the wind.”

“Traveler or Black Pirate?”

You sighed, fingers going to the bridge of your nose, despite knowing the answer to Chan's question, there were other details you had noticed, details that didn't happen when the Black Pirates were involved.

“Both? I don’t know yet, we need to check the perimeter tomorrow, go beyond the walls.”

“Do you think they managed to get in here?”

Even though the answer was also positive, you shook your head.

“They would need internal data for that,” you paused for a moment, your blood boiling slightly towards both the leaders and your superiors, but you held your features so that Chan wouldn't notice, which, luckily, worked, as he just nodded, “the recordings will also help us with that.”

“When was the last visit to the base?”

You lifted your shoulders, your mind trying to remember the schedule of the units in each area.

"Three months?"

“Then we’ll not lose too many nights of sleep,” you both laughed, and you had finally reached your room, Chan’s room not too far from yours. “I’ll ask one of the boys to make the food.”

“I’ll ask Cherry and Yeji to check the perimeter while Minho works the cameras.”

“Just in case, I’m going to ask the shadows to go get ready, there are things we need from you to make this system work.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was telling the truth. As the base was almost abandoned and the fact that the system was one of the first ones, only unit leaders, superiors and infiltrators were able to grant access for some actions within the base.

“If you convince Yongbok and Minho to cook during the time we’re staying here, I promise I’ll do everything and anything you say!”

Chan laughed, nodding excitedly. Neither of you liked being a leader, that's why you shared spaces. Whenever closed and controlled environments – like bases – were used, Jeongin was the main leader, you only entering when necessary. When you were outdoors, Chan led most of the missions and investigations. The justification for anyone who would listen was to maintain your protection, considering you were leader, but in truth, you hated the position, only shining considerably since you embraced it two years ago, when the unit was created.

“I’ll take care of it now!”

You both laughed, your laughter increasing as you heard Chan order Yongbok and Minho to be the base's cooks, the sound quickly becoming muffled as you closed the door behind you. The room belonged to a unit leader, being one of the most spacious on the base and, despite not having had visitors for a few months, the place was considerably organized, not even dust or cobwebs, it seemed as if the place had been completely sealed, but honestly, when you were tired like now, you could only be grateful for that.

Your gun is quickly placed next to the bed, the backpack weighing you down with each step as your bed gets closer, but just as it is about to meet the floor, the noise of the drone rummaging around inside it reminds you of what had happened. The backpack meets your mattress as you rush to take a shower, needing to cool your head before starting to assemble the pieces the boys had left for you, something they hadn't done in four years. Something you thought they would never do again. At least, not knowing that you weren't responsible for catching them, which made you wonder if they knew about your search for any crumbs given in relation to them these last two years.

The question that was on your mind the most was: what had changed for them to contact you again? The only answer was that they knew you were after them. Had you gotten close enough for them to finally decide to acknowledge your existence again? Were they trying to redeem themselves for what they had done shortly after they emerged? Despite everything, your mind couldn't eliminate the memories of when you were younger, of everything they meant to you, of how significant you were to them, until you weren't anymore.

The towel still hugged your body as you sat in the chair pulling your laptop out of your backpack, the memory chip quickly being removed from the pocket of the vest you were wearing before. Fingers quick to type the code to allow it to be used, the MVP that Minho had installed on your computer being turned on quickly with a simple press of keys. You had one hour. An hour to see what they had done to you. An hour to understand what that meant. A time to get rid of all evidence linking the leaders of the Black Pirates to you.

As soon as the chip was connected to the external reader, a file appeared in front of it. It was a video. Two minutes, maybe a little more. Your fingers quickly went to check how loud the sound was, but as soon as you noticed it was muted, you pressed it three times, just enough to know if something would be said or not, the headphones not too far away in case you needed it.

The first scene was the open space of the mansion, on the ground floor, among the plants that managed to survive the arid climate, possibly thanks to the water pipes of the complex below the mansion, which you were in at that moment. The space quickly opened up and you noticed that the water fountain was on, six people in black were present, the masks and fedoras covering their faces, but you would know who they were anywhere.

Soon Lucky and Mars entered the scene and the eight of them looked at the camera, it seemed like they were looking into your soul, that they were in the room with you, that you were in the fountain with them at that moment. You ignored the way your stomach dropped when the eight of them removed their masks, how it felt like a party had started in your stomach, how you realized that hadn't happened in four years.

The next scene was inside, the covered space that belonged to one of the leaders of the first faction that fought against Strickland, being the main reason why this was one of the first bases. Demonstrating power was something important, you had learned this since you were little, using it today to your benefit and that of your team, even if you hated it.

Although the location remained the same, the scene was slightly changed and you realized it was the view of a drone, possibly the one in your backpack, certainly impossible to recover any files if you knew them well enough, and that you could say with 90% sure yes, you knew them well.

Your eyes quickly found the basketball in Shinwoo's hands, the bandana on Wooyeon's wrist, Lucky's smart eyes. They had programmed that. They knew you would come, but that wasn't the biggest shock, that wasn't all, that wasn’t at all the part that caused you to break and burn with hate and longing.

The last scene caused this.

Howl, Uno and Iyaah were in front of the door where you found the ball and the bandana, but none were there yet, on the other hand, the door was opened and you noticed their concern about not touching any of the cobwebs, wanting to make you think they hadn't been there, which had worked, much to your annoyance. Despite everything, it was when Uno entered the code and registration that made your heart stop for a moment, pausing the video that focused on the green letters with your brother's name.

After what seemed like an eternity, you managed to compose yourself to continue with the video, ignoring the burning in your eyes and how much your body shook with hatred for that simple detail that they wanted to make clear, as if you had forgotten. Your finger was quick to press 'play', causing the video to continue with Iyaah placing the destroyed drone exactly where you had found it. The camera then focused on Howl, who was following the same path you had just taken with Chan, your burning eyes now begging you to blink, the accumulated tears doing little to lubricate your eyes fixed on the screen.

Howl is now standing in front of your room. The numbers entered being your brother's again, but you were already expecting this, but the room was different, pausing the video for a minute, your eyes going from the computer screen to the space that surrounded you. They had cleaned the place, the sheets had been changed, some of the things had been organized, they had made the room for you.

With a sigh, you returned to the video, watching Howl walk towards the books that were to your right. The camera focused on three, one that talked about the History of Strickland, another that talked about Sciensalvar, but Howl's fingers found the one in the middle, which talked about military strategies. His fingers quickly opened the book, but didn't make it past the first page before placing a folded paper inside, placing the book back on the shelf. The camera focused on the exact book before the video ended.

Before you could think much, the MVP timer appeared on your screen, causing you to disconnect everything related to that video, destroying the chip not long after. Your head was still processing everything that had happened, everything you had seen. Eyes quickly finding the book that Howl had pulled out and put away the paper, eyes falling back to the vest you were wearing when you put away the paper that Chan said he had found.

Your fingers quickly found Chan's paper, but just as he said, it was torn, you couldn't fully understand what was written, but you knew who had written it, while Iyaah's handwriting seemed to shine on the paper, almost as if had mocked your face, just another proof that they were there.

“...ns to look at the stars.”

You cursed under your breath, knowing that it didn't make any sense. Knowing Iyaah, was a song lyric he was working on, but ended up not liking enough. The difference is that he always showed you the lyrics before abandoning them, the nostalgic feeling took over you, making you curse loudly and crumple the paper between your fingers before throwing it away.

Your eyes burned and your head hurt, you wanted to cry, you deserved to cry after everything they did, but no tears seemed to be able to come out. The red eyes once again fell on the book that Howl had indicated. Your trembling fingers quickly pulled the book from the shelf, opening the cover causing the folded paper to fall onto the table. You quickly put the book back in place, fingers gripping the paper with trepidation. They had already taken so much from you and here you found yourself, allowing them to take even more.

Despite everything, your fingers opened the paper, a simple sentence in Howl's handwriting could be read and you felt your eyes burn even more, the lump in your throat increase and your stomach drop with each word read.

“We never forgot you, and we never will.”

A knock on your door made you jump up, the paper quickly being hidden beneath your laptop which you quickly closed, but as soon as your steps headed towards the door, you realized that only a towel was covering your body, your hair already partially dry because of the time you had wasted seeing what the boys had left for you.

Your eyes still burned, and you hoped your face was good enough, but you knew it didn't matter because your team knew each other well enough to know when something was wrong. You just hoped they could ignore it all when they saw that you didn't want to talk about it. One more knock and Jisung's voice could be heard, you hugged the towel tighter to your body on instinct before opening the door enough for him to see that it wasn't the best time.

“Ji, I’m so-”

The touch of your lips with his, made you widen your eyes in surprise, but unlike what you imagined, the kiss was quick, only for you to stop talking, you knew, so you remained silent watching your friend at the door, his eyes traveling over your face, body and back to your eyes.

“No need to say anything,” his hands found your waist, his mouth finding the corner of your own, a light push and you two were inside your room, Jisung's foot pushing the door, closing it behind him, who pulled you closer, connecting your mouths again. “I heard you, we all heard you.”

“I’m sorry Ji, but -”

“No need,” he already knew you didn’t want to talk, your body and face only confirmed it for him when the door opened. "Use me."

“Jisung? What?"

“Use,” a kiss on your jaw, “me,” another kiss under your ear that made a small moan leave your mouth and you felt a small smile form on Jisung’s mouth. “I’m yours to do with as you please,” you pulled away meeting his eyes, his hands firmly on your waist, trapping you against his body. “You can use me to make yourself feel better, as long as you get better.”

Your eyes roamed every corner of Jisung's face before your lips found his again, your feet already guiding the two of you to the bed as you tried to make your mind forget everything that had happened since the moment you found Shinwoo's basketball a few hours ago.

It worked until your backpack fell to the ground, the noise of the drone against the ground bringing you back for a moment, your eyes falling on the backpack as Jisung kissed your neck, moving down until he found the pendant that rested between the valley of your still hidden breasts.

Jisung's eyes searched yours, indicating the necklace. Everyone knew that necklace was important to you, but this was a subject that you had never talked about with any of them and you wouldn't, everyone respected your decision, but everyone knew that in moments like that, you always took it off, or rather, asked whoever was with you to take it off, which was what Jisung was doing now, as he kissed every part of your skin, helping your mind not to think about the eight men who occupied your mind for so many years and who had resurfaced a few hours ago.

Although feelings are prohibited, you had already been contaminated by them, you had already contaminated your own team. After all, you all had human needs, so that – just like you were with Jisung – was normal, when someone needed it, someone else helped. At that moment you needed a distraction, Jisung would be that distraction, that's why he said you could use him however you wanted, because that was nothing more than a distraction from the real pain that fell in your chest, just like the butterflies that were reborn in your stomach after that simple message with Howl's handwriting.

All you needed was a distraction.

If there was one thing that Hongjoong and the others realized relatively early on, it was that there was always one more trick up their sleeve with the group that had taken them to that other reality. They also knew that everything was connected to Nightingale, who, it seemed, only had direct contact with the 'Mirrors' and one other person, called Left Eye, one of the first with whom the group had contact when they arrived in that dimension.

Soon, they realized that two things were forbidden to be said, the real names of the ‘Mirrors’ and talking about her. To say that Hongjoong had grown stale with the idea of who she would be was an understatement, but at the same time, knowing that talking about her brought some kind of reaction in the 'Mirrors' made him want to get to know whoever the person was.

When the lights of the bunker in the ruins turned off and the projector turned on, your photo was quickly displayed, making all the boys open their mouths, definitely not expecting you to be who she was, they were expecting someone older, especially with the way the 'Mirrors' reacted whenever you were brought up.

“Her name is (y/n), she is one of the top leaders of Strickland and has had honorable mentions since she was sixteen,” Logan's voice trailed off for a moment, Yunho noticed that everyone else was looking at your photo with certain regret, “known since she was little as the Princess of Strickland, she ended up losing that title since she gained notoriety for herself and her team.”

“Although some still call her that, especially when they want to annoy her.”

The 'Mirrors' exchanged small smiles after Wooyeon's speech – Wooyoung's Mirror –, which didn't go unnoticed by any of the others.

“What is your relationship with her?”

Hongjoong's voice made everyone look at him, sad features returned to their faces.

"We were friends."

"And what happened?" Seonghwa asked with his eyes fixed on Logan who sighed exchanging looks with the others, a silent conversation about who would answer that question. “Did you break her heart, by any chance?”

“You could say so,” Howl said with a weak smile, “we were friends, but we knew what awaited her, we knew what her parents, teachers and superiors did to her and her brother,” everyone exchanged looks and Howl sighed before continuing, eyes following each of those who were seated, eyes and ears attentive for any information. “We decided that we didn’t want that reality for her, not after seeing her smile when she allowed herself to feel it, but we knew it was forbidden, but we couldn’t let her shine to burn out.”

Everyone was silent, but it was Mingi who spoke, his deep voice reverberating through the space.

“And how is the relationship with you and her now?”

“Not the best.”

Hongjoong laughed cynically at Lucky's response, which didn't go unnoticed by the others.

“She wants us dead, that’s our relationship now.”

Everyone stopped at that revelation, Jongho was the first to say something, feeling the tension that had taken over the space.

“All this because you didn’t follow Strickland’s rules?”

“All this because we abandoned her when she needed it most.”

“Everyone listening?” You said over the radio, eyes quickly going to Hyunjin at the wheel who looked at you confused, but you just waited until everyone confirmed to finally speak. “Command Center just reported an emergency meeting, so we had to rush back.”

“Emergency meeting? After sending everyone to all corners of the country?”

Everyone laughed at Changbin's comment, but you just confirmed it by resuming your train of thought.

“If you want to stay, it can just be me, Channie and Innie, it’s no problem.”

“And leave our boss unprotected in an emergency meeting? Have you gone completely crazy?”

It was Yeji's turn to comment on the radio, making you shake your head.

“They’re right (y/n),” it was Minho who said, approaching the passenger seat, “we need to protect our passenger princess at any cost!”

You swung your hand, managing to slap Minho's thigh, making the three guys with you laugh before Yongbok took the lead in the conversation.

“But really, (y/n), if it’s an emergency meeting, there’s going to be a lot of names there, it’s a great opportunity for something to happen.”

“And let's not forget that you are one of the main leaders,” Hyunjin commented, looking at you sideways before focusing back on the road, which made you roll your eyes, but his hand quickly went to your thigh, squeezing it lightly, a small smirk present at all times. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game my love.”

You sighed taking his hand in yours before returning with the radio, knowing everyone was just waiting for your speech.

“The meeting will take place on Guardian’s Island; it looks like they will put all the White Giants after the Black Pirate leaders.”

“Do you think they discovered something?”

Chan's voice was worried, not unlike your own when you had spoken to Eden, one of your superiors, a few hours ago.

“The fact of an emergency meeting already confirms this, but I still don’t understand why they are doing it on Guardian’s Island!”

“Beomgyu told me that the island had been invaded.”

Your heart stopped in your throat for a second, making you thankful that Jisung was in the car with Changbin at that moment.

“Did they manage to steal anything?”

Chaeryeong's voice reverberated through the radio, and you didn't notice how much you squeezed Hyunjin's hand, nor even his glances in your direction.

“I don’t know, but it looks like some heads rolled down the stairs a few days ago.”

“Shall we all go then?”

Your voice was firm, but your whole body was shaking.

Everyone's confirmation didn't do much to calm you down, but Yongbok's hands on your shoulders managed to bring some calm to you. There were a thousand and one reasons for an emergency meeting, there were a thousand and one locations it could take place, but they chose Guardian’s Island, after making all the main Crisis Management units leave the capital.

The fact that they had publicly indicated the use of the White Giants to capture the Black Pirates and their leaders only made your uneasiness increase. Knowing that Guardian’s Island was where the main points of everything that were denied by the government were, brought a symbolism that you didn’t want to think about. It brought back memories you would rather forget.

Despite everything, here you were, stepping onto Guardian’s Island after almost five years of turning your back on that place, preferring to stay at the Prestige Academy or the Command Center. It doesn't matter if you grew up there, it doesn't matter that you knew that island in the palm of your hand, you would give anything to not have to attend this meeting in that place.

Your parents were waiting in front of the entrance gate, their eyes falling on you and your team as your face breathed in the city air after all those days in the desert. Your eyes stopped on your parents for a moment, you knew they were proud. You knew that, since everything happened with your brother, you were the main choice to succeed the position they had, you knew you were the main point of pride, but nothing took away the cost of making that happen, the inability of your parents to do the least for their first golden child.

Since then, your meetings with your parents only occurred at events like those, which only caused the hatred for those events to increase, but fortunately, you knew how to mask enough, lie enough, to make it seem like that indirect torture was at least pleasant.

Thanks to Chan, Ryujin, Hyunjin, and Jeongin, your parents didn't get as much contact with you at the entrance, not even when you sat in your assigned seats. Your eyes roamed the entire room, noticing how many important people were there, which units had been called and the positions they had been placed in, something that also didn't go unnoticed by Jeongin who leaned closer to your ear.

“I heard rumors that they captured one of the leaders and this is a trial.”

Despite the weight in your chest, you sighed before looking around one last time, approaching the boy and covering both sides of your mouth so that no one could understand what was being said.

“This will make whoever it is a martyr, doing this is crazy.”

You both laughed in agreement, but also, it wouldn't be the first time the government did something stupid like that, much less the last. You and your team could hear the murmurs, some caught some of the rumors, what you did more was enjoy what you heard, laugh a little at the absurdity that was shared among those present, until the President of Strickland appeared on the podium, Henry Jo right next to it, as expected.

“Hello, thank you all for coming today and as you know this is an emergency meeting so we will be brief.”

The President exchanged glances with Henry Jo who nodded, taking the former's place on the podium, the microphone undergoing a small adjustment before he cleared his throat.

“As you know, we have many objects in this place, one of them is an extremely powerful and important object,” you couldn't even breathe, already having a good idea of where this conversation was going, “we also discovered the way in which the Black Pirates, their leaders in particular, managed to escape us so many times,” the tension in the air was palpable and you knew exactly what the meeting was about, your nails digging into your palm forming half-moons. “The object stolen and used by them is the Cromer.”

They had found out.

They had discovered that the Cromer was missing.

Did they know who had stolen it?

Did they know when it was stolen?

Your blood ran cold, but you didn't move to look anywhere other than the podium, observing the reaction of Henry Jo and the White Giants who were not far behind, indicating that they only knew the superficial information, making you breathe a little, but the tension never leaving your shoulders.

They knew the leaders used the Cromer.

That changed everything.

00: prologue.

heart string of gold || OT8! ateez || lore au

They had abandoned you, all nine people you cared about most had completely abandoned you. In the end, you were just like your parents and superiors said you would be if you continued to allow feelings to be felt. You then became Strickland's weapon and the Black Pirates, like their leaders, were your ultimate target.

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