#i think i basically watched all the ones released so far

[emeryleewho]

I keep seeing posts talking about the WGA/Sag-Aftra strike, which yes, good, but in all this "support writers" sentiment I'm seeing no one talk about book writers, which I think is something people should know more about right now.

We are at an all-time high for book bans, namely targeting queer & PoC-authored books. This means that a lot of schools and libraries are no longer stocking diverse YA books, and if you're not in publishing, you may not realize this but school & libraries are by far one of the biggest markets for diverse YA books.

This means that in 2023, YA book sales are down. This is also in part because Barnes & Noble (the largest physical book retailer in the U.S.) is no longer really stocking YA hardcovers. This means that marginalized authors and debut authors are struggling to sell books.

But it's a LOT worse than that. In the past couple of years, marginalized authors are *really* struggling to get new book deals. Most books are acquired by a publisher about 2 years before they release to the public, so this isn't all that noticeable yet, but a LOT of marginalized authors I've spoken to (myself included) have been unable to sell a new YA book since 2020. So while I had a book out last year, even if I sell one right now, you won't see it until 2025-2026. That's three to four years without a new release or the income I get from publishing those books.

On top of that, Big 5 publishers have started closing imprints (namely their diverse imprints) and have started telling their marginalized YA authors to just go. I've had multiple authors tell me their publisher basically said, "eh, we don't care to put in the work for you anymore. You can just go somewhere else". Of the authors who *are* getting offered new contracts, we're being offered pay far below the cost of living and we're being handed contracts that split our payments 4 or 5 ways and require we sign over our work to be used to train AI so they can replace us a few years down the road.

Authors are freelancers who own our IPs, which means we can't unionize the way Hollywood writers can, and despite authors showing up in droves to support HarperCollins employees when they went on strike for fair wages, we're being hung out to dry when it comes to our own rights.

If you enjoy diverse books, especially diverse YA, please understand that many of the authors you loved over the past 3-5 years are being forced out of the industry. We're being exploited, and we have no way to defend ourselves. Our books sales are drying up thanks to anti-queer legislation, our rights are being eaten up by AI, and our publishers are degrading us while profiting of us and refusing to share those profits with us.

Within the publishing industry, we've all been watching this decline happen over the last decade, but outside of it, I know most people have no idea what's going on so please spread the word. And if you care about diverse books especially in YA, please support marginalized authors in any way you can. The industry needs to be reminded that it needs us before we're all eliminated from it.

#Books #diverse books #author #publishing #sag aftra #writers strike #writers #labor rights #workers rights #wga strike

[stevebabey]

this is pure stupid hell crack that took more time than it should’ve to finish BUT i’m ready 2 release it from my drafts <3 this is actually technically written partially w @corrodedcoughin in mind bcos i think u will mighty enjoy it! for cockney eddie!

It comes with the territory, the accents.

Drama kid or dungeon-master, either one could be credited with contributing heavily to his affinity for all of Eddie’s little voices.

There was the deep, low raspy one reserved for trolls in campaigns — and a nasally high one he used for goblins to pair. Wise wizards giving out crucial advice sometimes had a strong Scottish drawl to their words. And Dwarfs? Always English.

So, yeah, Eddie has a couple different accents in his different repertoire. Pulls them out as he needs — a regal tone when referring to Hawkin’s very own royalty or a buried Southern twang used when he’s in trouble with Wayne. The most common is a shoddy Cockney accent for when any conversation dips too far towards awkward or boring.

It's why it's not so surprising anymore when they just... slip out sometimes.

He's learned more now, when specifically not to do it (Mrs. Donnell had not found his plea for a re-sit, in a heavy Irish accent, endearing in the slightest). But with friends who know Eddie, they know the accents come along too.

Steve fucking loves them.

The first time one had taken over his voice, some New Yorker twang to carry a joke, Steve had laughed so hard he’d snorted. And god, had Eddie lit up at the noise— loved knowing that, deep down Steve Harrington had a delicious wonderful ugly laugh that he only showed to people he trusted.

Basically, it’s hardly news to Steve then, all of Eddie’s little voices.

But well, even Eddie didn’t expect… okay, the truth is he never expected to be in this situation at all.

It’s a Wednesday evening when it happens. Steve is over round the trailer like he is every Wednesday, keeping Eddie company while Wayne is out on the double night shift.

It originally had started out as ensuring wounds were checked and dressed properly — considering half of them had scaled up his back, where Eddie couldn’t reach — for the both of them. Then, when technically Eddie could manage the worst of his words, Steve was still coming around. Dustin’s insistence, he’d said.

Then it was… because Eddie asked Steve to come around, to stay a little longer.

So, Steve Harrington is in his kitchen and it’s a Wednesday ritual that they have together and that’s not even the weird part of the evening.

(And somehow, neither is the fact that Steve is, as of a few months ago, his boyfriend.)

Steve’s cooking. Something simmers low on the scarlet glowing hob, bubbling quietly and releasing aromas of spices that percolate into the Autumn evening air.

Eddie feels his stomach growl in its own twist of hunger as he follows his nose. With one hand still scrubbing a towel against his wet hair, he ambles down the hall, fresh out the shower, ready for love — be it the form of food or, he thinks giddily, kisses.

Steve’s not watching the food as Eddie enters, his eyes fixed somewhere across the room. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, an indication of his deep thought.

Eddie grins, approaching without any attempt of being sneaky, (Steve’s as good as comatose when he’s distracted as he’d found) and jabs his boyfriend’s calf with his toe.

“Thinking mighty hard there, Stevie. That’s dangerous.”

Steve jolts, snapping out of his thoughts. He straightens up automatically, then seems to recall the company he’s keeping, and relaxes back down.

He scowls affectionately at Eddie’s barefoot, still jabbing into his leg, and reaches out to flick it with his finger.

“Dickhead.”

Eddie’s faster. He dances away and laughs at the instinctual pout that forms on Steve’s lips.

“What ponders thy mind, hm?” Eddie drawls, a lilt of a Regency style accent in his voice. He sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and drops his task. The towel hangs over his neck, his damp curls resting against it.

Steve seems to jolt again at that, his shoulders rising for a moment. He spins, picking up the wooden spoon beside the stove to swirl the contents of their dinner around. Eddie admires him, broad shoulders and long back, ripe for his taking. Silently, he sighs dreamily on the inside.

“Just… what movie we’re gonna watch tonight.” Steve says unconvincingly. “I’m not doing another re-watch of the Fly.” He adds lamely, an attempt at his usual bitch.

Eddie lets him have it. With one final squeeze of the towel, trying to wring out all the droplets in his hair, Eddie abandons it on the chair as he stands. He waltzes forward, into Steve’s space, and hooks his chin over the other's shoulder.

“You know, that’s what you said last time.”

Steve side-eyes him, his eyes narrowing into a minuscule glare; bitch personified. Eddie grins. Then bats his eyelashes.

It makes Steve laugh, shrugging Eddie’s weight off politely as he gives their dinner another stir. There’s still this tenseness to his frame. Though, maybe it's one Eddie can only notice because he’s paying such close attention.

“Alrightttttt,” He pretends to relent dramatically, his hands coming up to give Steve’s shoulders a quick squeeze. “I’ll let you pick the movie tonight.”

He drops his hands back to his sides, smarmy grin already plastered on as Steve turns to face him, the wooden spoon placed down on the bench.

“Oh, you’ll let me, will you?” He gives this incredulous look, even if there is this playfulness toying at the corners at his lips.

“Uh huh,” Eddie affirms with a severe nod, then begins counting on his fingers as he lists off. “No badgering, wailing, complaining, of any sorts I—“

Suddenly, Steve’s reaching out, his deft hands reaching out to snag the waistband of Eddie’s pyjama pants. It supposed to be a smooth move he’s used countless times before; fingers looped through belt loops to pull a girl in for a kiss. It usually works like a charm.

Except, there’s no belt loops— and when Steve tucks his fingers beneath the waistband and tugs him forward, Eddie shrieks.

“Fucking christ, Steve!” He bats Steve’s hands back without thinking. Steve holds them up defensively.

“Sorry! I was just—”

“What are you doing sticking your hands in my pants?!”

“It was a move!” Steve insists, voice a little whiney. “God, you’re dramatic- I was trying to pull you closer, numb-nuts.”

“Oooh,” Eddie switches up in an instant, hands shooting out to grab Steve’s own. He pulls them forward and settles them on his own waist, shuffling in closer like he hadn’t just shrieked a minute earlier. “Continue.”

Steve chuckles, delight peeking through on his face. His hands, large and slender, curl around the skin of Eddie’s waist and Christ, he’s still not used to that. Eddie’s too focused on repressing his shiver to see the shadow of nervousness cross Steve’s face.

“I was actually thinkin’ about,” Steve starts lowly, eyes skirting off Eddie’s face, over his shoulder. His fingers tighten their grip. “How—”

He sucks in a breath, like drawing in courage, and meets Eddie’s gaze. “About how much I love you.”

There’s the smallest tremble to his voice, giving away the immense emotion behind the words.

And here’s the situation that Eddie never expected to be in, ever. His breath catches, his eyes widen — his heartstrings tangle and knot themselves as he soaks in Steve’s admittance. Love, love, love — he loves me.

His lips part, a raspy noise escaping as he tries to compute, tries to think of anything to say because the longer he stays silent, the more crushed Steve’s expression becomes. And then—

“Well, I luv ya too.”

The words fall out, thick in that godawful Cockney accent.

Steve's face doesn't change but Eddie's does, contorting in an amalgamation of pure cringe and panic as embarrassment crawls beneath his skin. He slaps his hand over his own mouth as if it can take back his awful reply to being told he's loved by Steve.

"I—" He starts, speaking through his fingers, except it still comes out in a funny accent. Eddie squeaks, his grip over his mouth tightening, brown eyes wide in his panic. Oh God, never in stupid silly life has his accents come back to bite him in the ass so magnificently.

"I'm so sorry," Eddie whispers-yells in his regular voice, finally dragging his hands off his face sluggishly. "Jesus H Christ, I didn't— that wasn't making fun of you, I— oh god, you know that happens when I'm nervous sometimes. Shit. Shit, I'm so sorry, Steve."

Steve hasn't moved, his hands still resting on the small of Eddie's waist. His expression is guarded, nothing betrayed. His dark eyes scan across Eddie's face and just before he speaks, the smallest glimmer of amusement glitters across his face.

"Well," Steve begins, heaving a faux large sigh. His hands squeeze comfortingly at Eddie's waist again. Eddie who is still frozen, still cursing himself internally, still echoing around the apparently true fact that Steve loves him— well, maybe not anymore with how awfully Eddie responded.

And then Steve opens his mouth and the most appalling attempt at some accent comes out. It makes his words all garbled and Steve's pink in the face, obviously embarrassed but trying to commit to some shoddy Scottish when he says, "Aye, that's al'right."

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

The moment of silence is broken as laughter seizes him, a guffaw bursting from his lips and holy fuck, Eddie loves him so much. Steve laughs too, the two of them relaxing and sinking into one another. Eddie's hands, previously fluttering and unsure, find their natural place curled in underneath Steve's jaw and when he leans in, he's fighting off his laughter. His grin is unbearably wide, cheeks aching.

Steve's got this shine in his eye, his hands sliding further around to pull Eddie in closer, his pink lips quirked in delight. Eddie practically purrs, so close to kissing him but not quite closing the gap.

"Yep," He says, eyes bright as they bounce over Steve's face to drink in his boyfriend's love-soaked expression. He loves him. Steve loves him. Eddie sounds as lovesick as he feels when he whispers, "It's decided. I think you're it for me, Stevie-baby."

He presses forward, lets his mouth find their home in the curve of Steve's lips. It's warm like nothing he's ever felt before, softened by their gooey-grins of love. It's an in love kiss.

"Even if you're terrible at accents." He murmurs against Steve's mouth.

"Shut up."

Steve hisses, but he’s still grinning. The dinner bubbles behind them, still cooking away behind them. "Like I'm ever going to let you live that down."

Eddie finds he doesn't really mind all that much — God forbid his boyfriend ever remind him they're in love.

"Shut up," He still says, then sticks out his tongue, like he's ten years old. "You love me."

"I do." Steve admits easily, his fingertips dancing along the small of Eddie's back. Eddie has to tuck his bottom lip behind his teeth to restrain his wild grin.

"And I love you." He says, properly this time, jabbing his finger into Steve's chest — so there's no absolutely mistaking it.

#watch me edit this over the next couple of days….. #cos it’s like a first draft #😚✌️ #it’s ok i just wanna post something before i go back offline for a bit while i do finals + get a JOB #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie crack fic #it honestly it but also isn’t lol #steddie fluff #[shrugs] enjoy i guess

[starlightxsvt]

Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

I.

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

V.

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

X.

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles

#seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #kpop smut #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

[essentiallyleaf]

day 06. dacryphilia. with. karina.

964 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, friends to lovers(?), dacryphilia (that’s being aroused by tears btw), deepthroating, sex toys, choking, overstimulation, tit slapping, basically unedited, boring tags.

notes.

a little bit of a shorter one today, i was planning on releasing a different fic, but didn’t like how that was coming out and had to write this last second. hope it’s not too bad. weepily, leaf.

It was the exact moment you reached the back of her throat that Jimin’s eyes started to glisten. Not the same way they did when you suggested pizza night to her, no, it was obviously a lewder, more desperate way, but somehow still as affectionate, as enthusiastic do be able to spend time with you doing something that she loves. And while it was clear since you two were best buddies in high school that she loved eating an entire burrata pizza while watching baseball with you, it took a little longer for her to find out that she loved leaving cherry lipstick marks on the base of your cock while you deepthroated her, as well.

Then Chaehyun’s house party happened. Chaehyun was one of Jimin’s best friends since before you knew her, you weren’t particularly close to her, maybe she was jealous of you, the shiny, (only relatively) new boy that just popped up in high school, and quickly became the person Jimin shares her secrets with - one time, she told you, she was trying to flirt with this girl that was in her French class, so she made a paper plane with her number written on the inside and threw it at her, but the paper plane “got caught in the wind” (“It was poorly built, just say it!” “Bro, bet that if we built one each right now, mine would fall further!” - it did) and hit the teacher’s back; fortunately he didn’t open it and just threw it in the bin thinking it was a joke in bad taste, but when at the end of the class she asked the girl out, the girl completely freaked out, telling her that she wasn’t out yet and that if her parents found out she’d be dead; they never spoke again. Or maybe she wasn’t jealous and you were just trying to demean her because you felt that this competition for being Jimin’s one and only was a real thing.

Anyway, late into Chaehyun’s house party, you and Jimin started nosing around in her upper floor, and specifically her room, and she found this purple vibrator (she said she had no idea it was there, but you knew she had been in that room before plenty of times - you’re not trying to imply anything, just, she is the type of girl who might decide to pull someone else’s sex toy out in front of you, because she knows what would happen if she did). What happened after she did was you on top of Jimin with a hand on the vibrator circling around her clit and the other around her throat, choking her. Tears were falling down each side of her face when she came.

Jimin rocks your world. It took you a while to find out all the ways in which she does (well, all the ones you know thus far), but what matters is, you got to that conclusion. And you got to that conclusion in a flash, it took one moment. It was a normal school night, it doesn’t matter when. The two of you were having sex missionary in your shared apartment - the decision to rent one together when you’d be in college came at the end of 10th grade; it was already clear by then that you’d have to deal with each other’s presence for a while. She had just had her third orgasm, some tears already shed in the first two, and her eyes were now closed in absolute bliss. You grabbed her chin: “Open up - glistening, I tell you - and look at me. Don’t close them anymore, ‘kay?”

You resumed your pumping while she was still sensitive, you heard her whining because of it. Her huge, fluffy tits were bouncing in a hypnotizing motion, begging to be touched. That’s a euphemism, you thought, as you smacked her left boob with your right hand. The yell that left her throat was the loudest of the night. What would the neighbors think? (What would they be thinking? “They’re fucking. It’s the sixth time this week.” That’s no news.)

Your eyes went back to hers. She hadn’t closed them, the good girl. And now her lips were quivering. Slap her right mound. Then back to the left. As you kept thrusting your hips into hers, Jimin started weeping.

“Look at me. I am so close. You’ll need to endure for me just a little more”

You weren’t lying, but let’s just say you didn’t take the quickest route. You detoured by going back to smacking the girl’s tits repeatedly, and now she was bawling. You took her hands and lifted her up, now basically kneeling on the bed, then wrapped your arms around her back as you pumped upwards into her pussy. She screamed her lungs out, as she probably reached her fourth, but it wasn’t her voice, it was her legs instinctively meeting on your back that spoke to you. And what they were saying was “I need it inside”. You heard her loud and clear, and deposited buckets of cum in her belly. Still completely wrapped around each other, the two of you fell back onto the bed, panting. Her entire face was wet in tears, her mascara completely ruined.

Jimin rocks your world. It’s when you look at her in the eyes that you can just tell. One moment. You were so focused on her, on keeping her happy and on not sharing her with anyone else, that you never realized how good you felt around her, how good she made you feel.

“How about I help you clean your face from your make-up?”

“I think I’ll need to clean down there, too”

Some of your cum was already flowing out of her pussy.

“Shower with me?”

-

footnotes.

i wonder if you can make a smut only describing stills and never an actual scene. experimentally, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #aespa #karina #yoo jimin #yu jimin #aespa smut #karina smut #yoo jimin smut #yu jimin smut #aespa karina smut

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

The idler wheel is wiser than the driver of the screw.

Quick summary: After one too many drinks, you find yourself unable to think of anything but a certain smart-mouth detective who is in desperate need of a release.

Word count: 11K (I'm sorry)

Warnings: This is basically just SMUTT with a lil feelings (if you squint) sprinkled in there; kind of angsty at points (mentions of canon-typical death and violence (hellooo they're homicide detectives); gets a bit existential at points, watch out; pretentious.

A/N: YAY! I had this obsession with True Detective S1 all throughout October (watched it at my nan's house lmao), so enjoy the lovechild of that. This is just for fun, so, please, nobody be angry at me if they don't agree with Rust's characterisation, or any of the weird philosophical chat, lalallalal, OKAY ENJOY!!

***

The night air is sluggish and humid with the remnants of a warm summer’s rain, pressing down thickly, close, clogging, simmering just below the surface.

A few times, I’ve interviewed people who live in these sorts of places: motel-types, the “in-between”, where folks stay when they’ve either got no money, no choice or nobody. Other residents include passers-by who’re looking to save money on accommodation, skipping on the fancier places. Not that Louisiana really has any “fancier places”. Places without the paint peeling off walls like dead skin, I guess. A bed and breakfast in the nicer suburbia, with a view overlooking a subpar daydream of a ghost town centre. 

I’ve leaned up against the crooked, metal railing, felt the influence of my weight almost sending it and myself crashing down onto the faded parking lot beneath. I’ve leaned up there—after knocking—and waited, waited for a grey face to peer through a crack in the cracked door. I’ve smiled and remarked about how the beat-up, brass numbers up there are hanging by a thread. Sometimes, people are real stingy – they slink out and close the door behind them, or they remain in that little slit, just an eye visible, or they plain shut it in my face. Most let me in right away, maybe a little intimidated by the shiny badge clipped up in my jacket – I’ve sat across from ‘em, felt that mud in the room’s air seep into my pores, inviting me under its still swamp. 

Seems like the sort of place for him.

Too many a fuckin’ time, Marty’s come grumbling and muttering into the office kitchen, rolling his eyes, scoffing, huffing, the whole lot. And when I ask him why the strop?—“Ancient fuckin’ philosopher fuckin’ Rust Cohle on it again. Birthday’s comin’ up: get me earplugs and a generous bit o’ duct tape for my dear partner over there, would you?” 

Or somethin’ along those lines. 

For all his apparent talk about us silly, little “biological puppets”, this seems like Rust’s sort of place. Temporary existence, temporary living. Purgatory?

Whatever.

If you ask me, Rust Cohle’s head is so far up his own ass that it’s no wonder his outlook on life is so dark. 

If I was more sober, maybe I’d be thinking about it—about him—less—but this night out has had me so drunk I was maybe even hallucinating at some point. Rust?—sure, he’s been in the back of my mind for some part of the last few months – I have to see him most days I go to work, don’t I? – but, sometime in the space between my third and fourth shot of straight vodka, he was suddenly at the very front of it. I’d seen a guy who smoked like him: cigarette pinched between his thumb and forefinger, a simple, deep drag. I’d thought it was him, but then I realised his face was shrouded in the smoke that he’d exhaled, and I recalled that Rust never seems to do that. Never seems to exhale. All the tar and shit stays in. 

With a twist of my keys, the engine rumbles off into more-or-less silence. Fuck, it’s a bad idea, yes, just being here. If he likes to keep his distance, well—he’s entitled to that choice. 

I glance over my shoulder, out the window, out at the complex which is all yellow and shining, illuminated by buzzing halogen light bars and, of course, the occasional bug zapper. It’s clean enough. The lines of this parking space were white enough. Apartment 11A, said Marty. Second floor. 

“Are you drunk?” he’d asked – Marty, not Rust.

I’d replied, “No,” pressing closer to the phone box in attempts to remove myself from the swarm and bustle of the ladies’ bathroom. And it was an honest reply. Sort of. Despite his scepticism, by that time, I’d long stopped drinking, and all that remained from it was a sort of numb tingle in my fingertips—as far as I was concerned. 

I don’t think I’d be in this parking lot, stepping out of my car, if I wasn’t still a little bit gone. 

Marty’s sigh had crackled through the receiver. “Don’t bring any o’ tha’ party-this-party-that attitude to ‘im, alright? He’ll hate it.” I’d told him okay, my stomach spiking up with excitement. “Fact is, I don’t think you should go at all. ‘f you do, should be a work matter. This a work matter, detective?”

I’d lied, said yes, perhaps with a slur to my voice. 

He clicked his tongue. “Okay, buck, whatever you say.” Then, he’d hung up. 

There was something disapproving in the manner of the conversation. I got the feeling that he was talking to me in the same voice he used to lecture his daughters. The only reason I’d called him was to get something from him, sure, so that I could basically get something from Rust, his partner. I could see how that sort of thing might’ve upset someone. Not that Marty Hart should have any right to judge, not when he’s coming into work in the same clothes as the day before, stinking of sweat and God knows what. The unsaid agreement of everyone in the office is to turn a blind eye. I’ve met his wife. Someone should cut off his damn dick. 

Quiet, now. Hell, who am I to talk? Marty’s fun to chat with, makes a slow day at the office a little brighter. ‘Course, there’s rarely a slow day at the office.

And I’m at the top of the stairs, now. And I knock—one, two, three—on the pilling, forest-green door. Dulled down 11A. Blinds are determinedly shut, slats flat. For a second, I think maybe I’ll be waking him.

Then I remember Rust doesn’t sleep. 

A grey face appears as the door swings just a little ways open, grave and sunken-tired. His expression isn’t so pissed-off as it is just his usual expression. 

“Rusty,” I say to him with a small nod, words scraping out dryly. 

He doesn’t respond right away – ‘stead, he leans his body out partway, eyes absent like he’s searching for some hooligan criminal in the night.

“Marty told you my address?” he asks lowly. It’s more a statement than anything, but I amuse him with a nod anyways. There’s a cigarette flaring up between his fingers. His hand twitches a little like he’s wanting to take a drag, but his eyes are fixed on my shoes, now, like he’s still coming to terms with the fact I’m a foreign body in his domain. 

My toes curl up tight in my shoes – there’s that prick of anticipation again. Ice-cold, you could easily mistake it as dread. 

Rust doesn’t exactly subject me to an imploring look—not really his style—but he bows his head down just slightly – that’s sign enough for me. He wants to know why I’m here, and he no doubt wants to know the quickest way to be rid of me. 

I sigh. I ask him.

My body trembles, and he notices it, records it, stores it away for later reference, for some other time he’ll find that it and me will contribute to his purpose. 

Rust has a face of stone. I get to know it well as I search for a sign there that might let me know what lies beneath. But, of course, a statue is solid through and through. Sharp angles and smooth planes carved hollow. If he’s cold to the touch, I’d like to reach out and be sure. Is he cold where a man ought to be warm? Christ, it makes my pulse jump just to think about it. 

There is no greater purpose or cruel intention underlying my words, as far as I’m concerned. Rust, however, lingers there, with his arm up on the door, barricading the entrance, while he peels back and flits over every layer of possible meaning, his attention fixed absently on my left ear.

He then looks at me—briefly—in the eyes, with a sort of paralysing intensity. Even the tingling in my fingers ceases to be. 

It takes a moment, pregnant with the chorus of cicadas, crickets and other night-creatures, before he steps back neatly to allow me in.

The door clicks softly behind me as I enter into a room that’s bare as bare can be.  

Rust grunts, coming up around me and into the kitchen area. “Want anything?” he mumbles around his cigarette, other hand shoved in his pocket. He’s still half-dressed in his work clothes, his tie strewn on the counter, his blazer slumped over a rickety picnic chair perched up in front of a wall of crime scenes and dead bodies. My eyes linger there—how can they not?

“A beer,” I tell him, still looking at those photographs, then at the stacks upon stacks of books. Philosophy, ethics, religion. Names I’d expect only those with PhDs to know.  

“Don’t think you’ve had ‘nuff to drink already?”  

I shoot him a look. “I think I can handle it, Rust.” He straightens up, raises his brow. I snort, reasoning, “I’ll only have one.”

“One,” he agrees, opening up the fridge and having a rummage around.  

White walls and all of them empty, like some sort of psych ward. Half-sure Rust actually did do some time in that type of care, though, so—shouldn’t make any quips about that. I don’t want him thinking I think he’s crazy – he gets enough of that, I’m sure.   

Back at my place, though, I’ve got posters or drawings or paintings up around every corner. My niece’s drawing of a mermaid sits on my dresser, and photographs of my family are displayed in the hallway. One up by the TV, I painted myself when I was in high school. About two years after I graduated, they asked if I wanted my portfolio back, and I’d obviously said yes. And I love my stuff! Some ‘cause it’s pretty, others because of memories and whatnot. Guess some people don’t have that creative trait, or they lose it. Or maybe they detest the sentiments, those strings that have been, are and will be attached to things. When my cousin broke up with her boyfriend, she cut her hair and burned his clothes. “I just want to forget him,” she’d snarled. I’d sputtered a laugh into my tea.

Rust plants a Corona down on the counter, already cracked open.

There’s no mirror in here either – I can’t check whether I look as desperate as I feel. When I focus back on him, Rust is taking a swig from his own beer, turning to glance at the crucifix pinned above the messy mattress on the floor. Huh. Didn’t peg him as a Christian.

His honey-blond hair doesn’t look cold to the touch, that’s for sure ‘n’ certain. Wonder if he just wakes up like that or what. Once, Marty had been teasing him at work, even cracking a smile out of the old guy. “Ain’t them just the prettiest curls y’ever seen, buck?” he’d remarked, nudging into me, cooing at him. Silently, in my head, even then, I’d agreed: prettiest curls I’d ever seen. Rust hadn’t looked up to chart my reaction, but, if he had, he’d maybe have seen my fidgeting fingers or hitch of breath. Or maybe he felt it, heard it. 

“Sorry to barge in on you like this,” I offer pathetically through a nervous smile. 

He blinks, takes another swig, leaning over the counter that separates us. “No, y’aint.”

Jesus, I have to turn my head and shut my eyes for a second. I don’t particularly believe in God, but I ask Him to please give me the strength to resist my urges and act like a normal damn person for at least a few more minutes. And then I apologise for only praying out of convenience. In the face of temptation. This is why people shouldn’t drink – still, doesn’t stop me from downing a good part of my beer.

I turn to the wall and try to turn myself off a little bit. It’s not hard – Rust still has Dora Lange (rest her soul) pinned up on his wall, naked, blue, stiff. I don’t want to know why, so I don’t ask him. 

His eyes are adamant on the side of my head. Funny how he never seems to look at me at the same time I’m looking at him. Pisses me off a lot of the time – not just him, but in general. A lot of people share this same fear of not being heard, not being listened to and not being cared about. Men in particular, I’ve noticed, have a tendency to raise their voice over others’, to yell or shout or hit things or push ‘n’ shove. Marty’s that way – a lot of men at the precinct are, too. Women who are raised to be the listeners sometimes act out in the same way, frustrated at all the things they have to care about that men don’t, burdened with manners and politeness. I used to hate having to listen, to wait for the man who interrupted me to finish speaking. Rust always lets people finish their point, for better and for worse. Pisses me off in a different type of way. I can feel his judgement seeping out of him, so potent that’s it’s tangible, lapping at my feet.

He doesn’t push and shove – he’s a listener, too. Of course, he has that male privilege where his silence has a gravity, a magnetic pull, where mine is simply as is. At least he pays attention. Sure, on the surface, it might look like he doesn’t care at all, hunched over a case file at his desk, back turned to me and the rest of the lot, but proximity has its power – assigned workspaces put with his personality, and he knows what’s like and unlike me better than my sister. He’s reading into my refusal to talk, to face him – unlike me.

“So, you’ve given this some thought, then,” Rust says matter-of-factly, and my tummy bubbles up.

I snicker nervously, heart racing. God, I’d expected surprise, disbelief, outright refusal, maybe even a little disgust, but, when I manage to turn around and look at his face again, it just seems to me like a calmness. Stoicism found in the affirmation, maybe, of his expectations. It’s like I’m walking right into one of those little theories of his: a proved hypothesis.

I take another sip from my beer, feeling too shy for my liking. “Well, yeah,” I drawl, slumping over the kitchen counter and propping my chin up to look right back at him in a surge of liquid confidence. “I always think ‘fore I do anything that’s anything, Rust.”

Almost immediately, he retreats, standing up straight and resting the small of his back against the lip of the sink behind him. He hums, glances away. “We both know that’s a lie,” he combats, hands tucked into his pockets, chin tilted up, eyes down. A mouthful of beer numbs the sting of rejection. “What you mean is you think you can justify all your decisions. You think you can justify why you knocked on my door and said what you said—” he elaborates quietly, eliciting a snort from me, “—but, at the end o’ the day, all your decisions boil down to what you feel is right, not what is right.”

“‘n' you think you ‘n’ you alone know what’s right?”

Slate-grey eyes flit up and down my face, like I’m a specimen on a slide.

“I think that the girl who’s stumbled up on a fella’s door asking him to fuck her is less inclined to know, without bias, what’s right, yes.”

I swallow thickly, sucking the remaining flavour of beer off of my tongue before going in for another swig.

Christ.

Not a single bat of his eyes. Not a quiver of his mouth, not a twitch to his nose, not a morsel of natural, human hesitation. Does he have to be so crass? I did the courtesy of making it palatable, at least to my own ears, with a euphemism. But when have I ever known Rust Cohle to water anything down? No drink I’ve ever consumed will match his body’s preference of alcohol content. He’s nursing his beer close to his chest, but who knows what poisons lay dormant in these cabinets?

“Rusty,” I say lowly, maybe asking for a break – I close my eyes for just a second, part because I couldn’t bear it if I caught some sort of disapproval on his face, and part because it’s just past two o’clock in the morning.

Late nights have consumed my life recently, what with that sicko rapist connected to a Christian fertility cult. Children of God – “go forth and multiply”. His confession had turned my blood cold. Johansson had offered to sit in the box instead, but I did it anyway. I went home and cried over it, then came into work the next day to talk to some press and then receive my new assignment.

He hums, taking a drag from his cigarette, swallowing the smoke down. Rust knows how it is. To be honest, I’m probably the one who doesn’t know the half of it. One night at the office, he’d casually confessed to his insomnia, like he was just commenting on the state of the weather ‘n’ nothin’ else. So, I guess I won’t pretend to get it.

I gnaw on the inside of my cheek. “Are you into that whole abstinence thing?”

The weak light above flickers gently as he pauses, turns the question over in his mind. Anyone else would’ve surely laughed.

“I believe that man is susceptible to desire, yes—but he can resist it and its consequences should his willpower be stronger than the false promises posed by that temptation.

I snort again, because, now, I really am tipsy, and I can’t hold in my attitude any longer. It’s not that I think he’s lost it or whatever. It’s just—he’s so—objectively—absurd. Well—“objectively”. He’s got points, but those points lose all meaning in the spiralling darkness of overthought and deep contemplation wherein he’ll explain that everything really means nothing—and he’ll be right about that, sure, but also unintentionally prove a point about himself. I’d ask him what it means when, in a world where everything means nothing, a child will give their friend a flower found on the way to school, but I feel like his answer would be too morbid for my liking. Does that make me an unreliable source? The fact that I want to live?

He's absurd. He’s also a little bit awry in the head. Don’t know what he’s lost or what he’s lookin’ for, but it’s not a good look on him. He’s honest, yes – that’s a good trait. But honesty without kindness is cruelty. And he is kind – underneath, he’s kind, and I know that because of how hard he works to weed out evil people in this world, most times at his own risk. That’s kindness, albeit unconventional, whether he realises it or not.

The kindness almost cancels out his arrogance.

“So, what?” I challenge under the guise of a teasing grin. “You can go mouthin’ off for hours on end about how up themselves religious people and all’at are, but you can’t draw the similarities between their philosophy and your philosophy? How does that work, Rust?”

While I was working that Children of God nightmare of a case, he just couldn’t seem to restrain himself – every bullshit word that left him revealed to me his hubris. Now, I’m not angry, and he’s not stupid – we’re not arguing. In fact, he seems intrigued, lean body shifted toward me. He sets his beer down on the counter, crosses his arms over his chest after securing his cigarette between his lips, and lowers his head as if to listen to me better.

I sigh, continue. “D’you know what I think? I think you oversimplify humanity. You’re a great detective—‘nd I guess you know it—and, within the confines of your job, it serves you well, makes you good in the box. But your assumptions are too general. People are who they are, sure, but they also decide to be those people. By their environment and those who surround ‘em, people make the decisions that define ‘em. A lot of the time, their circumstances ain’t fair. People born into badness are trapped by the badness—either physically, or up in their heads—and they have a tough time escapin’ it.”

Rust inhales the smoke again, the only evidence of it happening being the soft whisp that curls away from his nose. I wonder to myself how his lungs are still standing.

“‘s that how you explain that—homicide case you’re workin’ on?” Three-year-old boy died of neglect, his siblings found locked in cabinets, one in a dog cage, by their mother and stepfather. Rust’s eyes flash silver. “Killer had a tough time?”

Asshole.

I narrow my eyes dangerously. “Don’t be mean, Rusty,” I scold, and he blinks in concession. “I think evil exists. I think it’s complicated. I think you summarise things that ought not to be summarised.”

He’s silent for a heartbeat. Then, his hand comes up to pinch away his cigarette, and he waves it in a small flourish, explaining, “When I say “people”, I mean society. Human culture.”

“Last I checked, Rust, you don’t know everybody on the planet. You don’t know their “culture”, or experiences.” That seems to shut him up. My eyes wander to his broad shoulders, trail along the meat of his arms beneath the cheap, polyester shirt that hugs close to the muscle, and they linger there like the quiet that settles between us.

He nods slowly, once. “Our decisions define us?”

I bob my head, unabashedly staring at the elegant column of his throat, his neck, and the stretch of tan skin that is settled beneath the white undershirt revealed by the first one, two, three buttons which have recently been undone.

He’s quieter when he asks me, “Well, how does this decision define you, then?” There’s nothing malicious about the way he says it, or even lustful – just a calm curiosity.

“Ain’t it obvious?” I grin again, laugh a little, blush hotly. “I’m horny!” I hide my face in my shoulder, trying to compose the hiccups of laughter in my stomach. “I’m sorry,” I snicker, wiping my palm over my brow, my eyes. “This probably isn’t very attractive to you.”

“You’re a very pretty girl,” he replies. He mutters my name solemnly, like we’re in a formal meeting or something.

I glance up, check whether he’ll offer me eye contact again, but he doesn’t – he’s staring at the wall, lost.

I scoff. “You’re a very pretty guy, Rust.”

God willing, none of the boys at the precinct will ever find out about this. If Marty lets it slip that I even asked for Rust’s address, then I’ll never hear the end of it. Worse, everyone’ll think I’m dead-gone over him. Guess I don’t really fit the standards expected of women around here: “wife”, or “whore”. Or “dead”. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously going about pretending I’m not interested in sex at all. Once sex comes into the equation, I’ll be reduced to that and nothing else. 

Anxious, I start flicking up under my fingernails. Is Rust already starting to think those things, too? I’m a great detective, but that’s the only capacity in which he’s really known me. 

I wring the neck of my bottle. “I should explain—”

He holds his hand up, stating, “I don’t need you to. Do you feel the need to?” 

Curious, wary, I watch his face, a blank slate. Still waters run deep. My eyes drift down, to where his hands are together in front of him, one relaxed beside him the other curled around his wrist with two fingers resting on the pulse.

“No,” I reply. 

“You thought it over,” he says, eyes tilting up at the ceiling, aloof, bored, maybe. His words are sort of monotone, like he’s reciting a passage from a book that he’s just recently read: “You chose me because you know me. You haven’t been sleeping well. You’re stressed, you’re scared, you’re frustrated.” He blinks. “You’re attracted to me due to some—unfortunate trigger beyond your control in the reptilian part of your brain.” Brief as the flicker of a candle in a still room, he looks over me, brow raised slightly as if daring me to tell him that he’s wrong. He pauses again, takes a short puff. “It makes you think I can take care o’ your needs.”

Look at the state of him: sallow and wilting on the inside. Reducing me down to a sentence or two, and being right about it.

“Well, can you?” I ask weakly, feeling small. He looks over me, blinks blankly. “How do you take care of your needs?” No reply. “You do have needs, don’t you?” I remark, tapping the rim of my bottle to my warm temple. “Programming ‘n’ whatnot.” 

He tilts his head away in dismissal. 

I smile, more to myself than to him. “Beat off in the shower, is it?”

For a second, Rust is still. My eyes grow heavy, admiring the strong profile of his nose. He then nods helplessly, like there’s no point in trying to lie.

I hum, a soft, self-satisfied smirk edging its way onto my face. “Must feel like a sin,” I snicker.  

He squints slightly, like he disagrees with my logic, but does not interrupt to protest. 

“I remember takin’ baths as a teenager and double-checkin’, triple-checkin’ I locked the door,” I confess. “Couldn’t take my time. ‘S that how it is for you, Rust?” I probe, tilting my head to the side, losing his eyes as quickly as I catch them. “You ever let yourself enjoy it? Let yourself want it—?”

“I don’t want it,” he snaps quietly.

“But your programmin’ says you do, right?” I point out, scrambling to hold onto the flaw in his argument. I search his face, my own bright, eager.

He quirks up a miraculous smile, and I myself burst into a wide grin. Still smiling—though, you’d have to admit, it’s such a strange sight, sort of gratifying, almost patronising—he shifts his weight between his feet, scratches at his nose with his pinkie, sniffs, takes a long drag of his dying cigarette. I know he must feel disjointed, though he doesn’t show it: he’s misstepped, and I’ve caught him. And how often does Rust Cohle misstep? I should’ve checked the news for a blue moon tonight. 

Interested, now, is he? Breathing quietly, rolling his jaw – he’s entertaining the competition I have goin’ up in my head. From the looks of the gentle smirk on his face, he’s enjoying it, too. 

“No,” he corrects with a dry husk to his voice. “No, I know what I want, and, when I think those things are necessary or useful, I know how to get them.”

In this type of context, I’d like to see him try. Though, he is an undeniably attractive man. Thick, solid all the way through, like a rich wood. But he’s got these brittle eyes: fraying.

He continues: “Most of the time, though, what we want is born out of dangerous feelings, like rage or lust. Ruminating on the consequences of those potential actions seems to me the more sensible thing to do than to just leave it and find out.” I sniff. “Desire is inescapable for most, including the sexual kind. I feel it—“ he eyes how I wriggle beneath my skin, “—you feel it. But it can be resisted. You’re lettin’ it dictate what you do ‘n’ say. If I do to you what you want me to, have you thought about how it might affect things down the line? Tomorrow, next week, next month—?”

“Yes,” I hiss, a little too emotionally, such that a gleam of satisfaction crosses his grey eyes at the strain and stretch of my voice. Christ. Desperate much?

I take several seconds to think before allowing myself to speak again, all while staring at him straight on and refusing to look away: I’d just die if I let him catch me out. “Well, how can you be sure of the fallout? How do you know the good won’t outweigh the bad? Not “you” specifically, but, also, yeah, “you” specifically. I can think about something morally ambiguous, and I can evaluate the potential consequences, and, just as you are satisfied to observe, I will decide to follow through with this somethin’ and deal with what I gotta deal.”

He sighs. “Because decisions define a person?” 

I tuck my hair tight behind my ears. “Yes.”

And he hums – that beautiful noise resonates in my stomach before sinking down there, low, its weight a comfort. “I agree with you in that respect,” he admits. 

A laugh erupts out of me like the sputter of an engine. Luckily, I’m easy to laughter – it’s like me, as is my genuine grin. “Rust Cohle’s agreein’ with me on somethin’?—Call the police!” 

“We are the police,” he replies smartly, watching me snort and smile and grow flushed in the face. I feel very grateful to that beer – at least my giddiness can be blamed on the effects of alcohol and save me from embarrassment.  

As I simmer down, he looks away, adds, “I agree to an extent. People all think that they’re one-of-a-kind. That they make these—amazing decisions. They speak and do and walk and play and work and fuck and eventually die – all of ‘em.”

“You’re part of the people,” I argue.  

He hums, nodding in acceptance. “Yes.”

“If a person acts due to their instinct, whether it’s succumbing to it or fighting against it, then isn’t man simply his programming?” He lowers his head. “You can be aware of it, and you can be a part of it, too. Who are you to deny yourself the good parts?”  

He fiddles with his cigarette, svelte fingers nimble and acute. I cross my legs, flex my hips; he notices. 

“Because of the consequences,” he replies, a soft whisper.  

I thought that everything meant fuck-all?

For someone who sees no meaning in life, he sure seems to spend a lot of time contemplating it. Here, I thought I’d have hot hands sliding all over me, gripping, spreading, pushing, but instead find myself defence in an unprecedented debate. 

Rust is breathing slower, deeper, almost unable, now, to look me in the eyes, even look at me in general, whereas, before, it had been a choice, whether that choice be conscious or unconscious. His cigarette burns weakly in his fingers, forgotten. The muscle in his jaw flexes, his expression hollow. 

My body buzzes with want, leaves me scrambling for breath like I’ve just run a race. I want. I want, I want, I want. The rough pads of his fingertips, the surest and most confident I’ll have ever known. Sharp tongue, quick and precise. Something about how he smells. All my compliments to pheromones – even in the heavy musk of the bar, I’d smelled him, ashy, warm, alive, and now it’s wreathing all around. Or maybe that’s just me – it’s like when you try to take someone’s pulse with your thumb, and all you’re feeling is your own heartbeat.

I want – my breath trembles with it.

“Rust,” I say softly. He shakes his head a little, looking away still, vulnerable like a wild animal. I sigh, gnawing at my lip. “I really want it. I—I’ve—it’s not just a rash decision,” I explain. “I’ve wanted it for a while, now.”

He shudders – I notice. “Since when?”

I huff out a sheepish laugh, fix my eyes on my restless hands. “You won’t remember it—”

“I will.”

His voice sounds clogged. It sobers me right up. 

“A year back,” I tell him. “You were working at the office—late, in the dark. You called me, and I asked you why, and you said—it was because you were tired and thinkin’.” I glance up to check if he’s maybe looking, but he’s not – he’s turned his head even further away. The soft, gentle curls of his hair tempt me. 

Blindly reaching for the bottle, securing it almost immediately, he finishes the rest of his beer, then sets it back down. 

“I—” he begins, scratching his nose, “—I was—tired.” He pauses to re-thicken his voice. “And—thinking—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but the both of us know what he said that night: Of you. Thinking of you—of me .  

My stomach flips, leaving me almost nauseous, just like it did when I first heard those words. At first, I thought I’d misheard, that I was so tired my mind was playing tricks on me. Then, I thought he was being cruel, or maybe he was drunk. Those two instances weren’t—aren’t—unlike him, but he never, ever calls to be mean or to be stupid. He’d been quiet and warm through the phone after that, a presence so thick I could’ve sworn he had his arms around me right then. I hadn’t slept well for a time, then, of course, and that made it all the more vivid. His voice had made me shiver all the way through as he told me he had to get back to work. 

When I saw him the next morning, I couldn’t look at him. It was the first time I couldn’t, not wouldn’t. It was also the first time I felt him paying attention to me.  

I shift, ask the question I’d wondered since that call: “Why?”

A pause. 

Then: “You brought me coffee that morning,” he explains softly, speaking to the wall opposite. “I was—looking at the mug on my desk – it was yours. Green one you like to use.” He sniffs. “And…” He teeters on the precipice of that word but does not finish the thought. 

Hmm. That’s something to think about. Rust Cohle thinking about me and not picking apart why and why he shouldn’t be. It had been a mindless enough gesture – it’s not unheard of me to be makin’ coffee for other people in the office, not because I have to but because I like to. For the people I can stand, that is: Johansson always, and him for me; Cathleen;   Marty, when I’m not pissed off at him; and Rust, from time to time. Everybody knows that green mug is mine, though – nobody touches it, not even the boss. Rust reads far too much into things. Most of the time, he’s dead-on. I should’ve known from the moment I placed that coffee on his desk, from the sharpening of his eyes (that did not spare me a glance) that lingered on my lingering hand on his table, that he knew. Figured out something I hadn’t even quite figured out myself. Not until later that night. 

I wonder if he’s ever thought of me when fucking his own hand. I wonder if he thinks about me sometimes, when he can’t sleep, in between horror stories and brutal blows and uncovering the secret truths of the universe. I do, sometimes. 

When I push myself back to my feet, stand up, Rust’s attention springs back, and he watches me, looks at me.

Quietly, I relish in the satisfaction of his stare, crossing on light feet to toss my empty beer bottle in the bin. He steps aside to let me open the cupboard under the sink, his hand curled in a loose fist by his side. I’m not trying to tease him – I grant him the space he so clearly needs, retreating about five paces back, leaning slightly myself against the counter. 

I could say anything right now, no matter how insane, and he’d treat it with total and utter respect. I could reveal to him the reaction my body has to seeing his fingers fiddle like that with his cigarette, and he’d manage to identify the cogs and wheels in what, when you step back, actually turns out to be a hidden machine. Christ, I could probably remove all of my clothes, stand naked in front of him, and he’d look on as one would look on at a piece of evidence at work. Going over the details, once, twice, scribbling it all down in that big, leather ledger. 

Here’s what I think: he needs it. For all his talk about how unoriginal, how predictable mammals are at the end of things, he probably knows that himself. The tension in his jaw, the perpetual tightness of breath. That clipped way of talking he has, wound so tight around himself, like a compressed spring fighting its natural urge to let go.  

I could make him let go. Maybe. I wish he’d let me try. It’s nothing possessive, really: wanting to be the one to unravel his tightly coiled body. Just—the release of seeing him be. No thinking in particular – just being.

He is still, however, uncommonly mute, avoiding my eyes.

I sigh. I ask him tentatively, “You think I ought’a be ashamed o’ myself?” biting down on the fleshy inside of my cheek.  

“No,” he contradicts.

“But—you think I should be findin’ my fun elsewhere, with—some other guy?”  

He sort of pins his hands behind his back, pressing his weight against them there at the edge of the sink. He looks a lot taller from this angle. “I think there’s a lotta fellas stumblin’ over themselves to be with a girl like you.”

“Maybe,” I scoff, “but my reptilian brain don’t want none of ‘em.“ I blush warmly when I glance up and he’s there watching me, though there’s no bashfulness at all on his side of it. 

I expect him to maybe dart his eyes away again, like he does, and then walk me to the door, maybe even to the car if I haven’t offended him too badly, and then call it a night. I could stuff it in; I can compartmentalise. Monday would carry on as it always does, except now without the wondering and the yearning and the delusion. Did he have to be so good-looking? His cheap, wrinkled shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows—like they are now—and those lean forearms braced up on the table, caging in the neatly set-out notes scrawled up in his ledger, like they have mind to escape. And he’s—beautiful. He’s tall. Out-of-place sort of tall, where he has this bend to his neck, sometimes, as to not draw attention to himself. Other times, though, he stands to full height, regal, elegant, authoritative, like when he comes out o’ the box.

He sees into people. He feels it all so deeply.  

And he’s looking at me, seeing into me, deeply. His eyes are brittle like china pieced back together with store-bought glue. The low light casts long shadows down his neck and harsh face. 

“Come here to me, Rust,” I say to him, beckoning him over with a tilt of my head. To my surprise, he does. He does immediately, peeling himself off the counter, eyes drifting somewhere just behind me as if disinterested.

He stubs his cigarette out on an old plate, abandons it there officially, before stepping slowly towards me, feet never dragging, dodging my searching eyes like the plague.

Hmm. Maybe I made a good argument “for” to his “against”. Or maybe he was never “against” to begin with. I’ll watch him carefully tomorrow and see if there was anything I missed.

I reach up and touch his face gently. I used to do this with my husband before he passed, and he’d close his eyes and whisper my name and lean into the touch, tender, loving – my fingers shake slightly with the memory. Rust Cohle does none of that, because he is nothing like my husband. He’s perfectly rigid against my fingertips; his stare flits briefly up right into my soul, his mouth pressed in a hard line. Everything about him is so sharp. The ridge of his cheekbones, the defiant slant of his nose. The lean muscle of his arms and shoulders, slightly sinewy just beneath the skin. 

But when I brush my thumbs up along his eyebrows, easing the sharp line between them, he sighs and closes his eyes, neck bowing down, still as stiff as before, just—different. A small gap, an opening, to that locked room of his upstairs.  

“Rust,” I whisper, nose brushing his. He hums again, lowly, eyes shut. “What do you think of us havin’ sex?”

“Sex,“ he replies softly, “is the illusion of connection constituted by the release of a mess of happy hormones, simply by touching all the right places—and nothin’ more.”

I hum and watch the look on his face grow brittle as our breaths mingle closely. God, he’s so near to me that my head swings in a bout of lightheadedness, heady, vision centring in on him and only him, such that I wouldn’t know if this place was burning down all around, even if the flames started eating us alive.  

“I think you’re full o’ shit, Rusty. Know how I know that?”

He sighs shakily. “How?” It’s like the word is dragged right from the pit of his chest, barely a breath to show for the effort of it.

“I can feel you against my leg.” 

He swallows thickly, but he does not blush, and he does not open his eyes. And, contrary to what he might seem, Rust is not cold like stone. When my fingers grow more confident, when they trace and drag lightly along the line of his cheeks, he is warm there. His pulse, when I find it, exists and is hot and slightly erratic, a fact that leaves my mouth dry and open. I can feel the inflexion of his throat as he swallows again, the shift of the skin and the rhythm of his heartbeat, the gentle influence of his breathing. 

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. So, I ask him, “Can I kiss you?” ever so gently. 

Softer still, he replies, “Yes,” with that slight Southern whistle of his, barely moving. 

Give me strength. Give me strength. 

That look on his face is filling me with a delicious, vibrating power. As I stretch my neck up to brush a kiss against the corner of his mouth, my eyes are open and watching him, charting him: Rust breathes strongly out of his nose, eyes still determinedly shut, like he’s absent and meditating. He is not tough as stone – parts of him are soft. He barely returns the kiss, but, as far as my brain processes, his lips are soft. Hesitant, maybe. 

Then, these soft lips part, and he is sucking in a hot, shuddering breath, capturing me in a deep kiss, as if to breathe all of me in, a strong hand threading through my hair. It hurts a little at first – a small noise escapes my throat at the slight shoots of pain tugging at the roots – but Rust doesn’t seem to notice. Not at first. No, he’s still breathing me in. His lips are dry, rough, a push and tug, a twist, and he’s kissing like a punch, knocking the breath right out of my lungs. Whatever oxygen I manage to hold onto is sucked out of me promptly. 

I whine, my body going all slack and tired as he smooths the hair out of my face, palms dragging clean back across my cheeks. Those hands cradle the back of my head, making it impossible to keep my eyes open.

Content, I sigh, eyes succumbing to the sensation and falling shut. The last thing I see is his own eyes slipping open to look at my face.

Boy, he’s a good kisser. Must be that lizard brain he has such a distaste for.

My fingers blindly reach and fumble at his belt, hooking into the waist, pulling him flush against me. Rust must forget what he’s doing for a moment, and he pauses where he is, in limbo, eyes far away. When I begin to unthread his belt from its quietly clinking buckle, he goes stiff again, blinks rapidly before perceiving me. 

Holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

His hands hover over my shoulders, not quite committed to the contact. 

He’s seeing me—really seeing me—as I unzip his trousers and spit crudely into my palm and curl around the length of him, warm, tight. I begin to understand the gentle throb and strain he feels, a delightful thrill running rapid all through my insides. He feels deliciously alive. 

But then he turns his head away, neck straining up, breath choked back in his throat. His hands come away, raised, it looks like, as if trying to seem non-confrontational, trying to come away unscathed from a bad situation. 

My stomach burns with desire. “Let yourself like it, Rust,” I mumble against his cheek. “Are you here with me?” 

I can feel him swallow.

“Yes,” he responds. I guide his face to me, stroking his cock confidently once, twice, as encouragement, maybe. Temptation. Whatever you want to call it. My mouth waters, my head goes airy, when I feel his sex twitch in my embrace. 

“Kiss me again, then.” 

And he does. Brows furrowed as if in pain, he does, with the tip of his nose dragging and pressing into my cheek. He kisses me sweetly once, then again, and then pants down hotly into my mouth, hovering there before sliding his tongue deep inside, close, smooth. 

I let myself love it. I let myself let go with every kiss he blesses me with, growing looser and easier and lighter each second. 

The weight of him in my hand inspires a beautiful urge to have him lay down and let me feel every part of his body. Even though his hips stutter, he doesn’t buck up into my fist, doesn’t whine, doesn’t moan, doesn’t curse. Not yet. He just breathes and breathes, and kisses me and kisses me, like it’s all he was set on Earth to do. All he’s allowing himself to do.

Desperate, perhaps, my thighs are pressed against his, feeling unnaturally weak and warm. The throb between my legs coincides with my heart rushing in my ears, a steady ache, impatient. Part of me wants to drag this out as long as possible, because what if this never happens again?—and another part wants to push him inside me already, have him fill me up, fuck me stupid. 

This thought stuffs me up to the brim, like cotton punched down into a pillowcase. I whine shallowly and try to slot his thigh between my own. 

A switch in his brain must flick on. 

It��s like he’s inside my head, like he’s in on my desperation, like he can see and feel every sinful image and thought circulating my alighted brain. He knows it all so well, such that he uses his hips to press us firmly against the counter, spreads my legs with the nudge of his foot between mine, and immediately pushes the rough pads of his fingers right where I need it, through the fabric of my skirt, letting me grind myself against him, hips and all. He circles there generously. I can feel my need dripping from me. He can too, no doubt. 

I sigh, he breathes. I gasp, he breathes. My eyes flutter open and shut, but he looks on, eyes half-lidded but stare immovable. 

He then lifts his knee to place against my cunt. 

“That feels good, don’t it?” he says gently, rocking me over his knee up and down, back and forth, fingers digging into the soft skin of my hips.

My legs widen. When I gasp out weakly, he raises his brow and scans my face, like he had predicted the shaky, wordless nod that I offer to him too late in return. 

“Did you want it like this, girl?” His voice is low, intimate, a hit of something just shy of addictive. “Or did you want somethin’ else, too?” 

He kisses the hollow of my neck. 

His other hand grips at my ass, up my skirt, kneading the flesh there, manipulating it, and his fingers ghost my slit, spreading me around his knee. He fucks up into my hand. I slide my fingers through his hair, which is soft and warm like butter. 

Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupid, pretty curls. I’ve proved my point: regardless of whatever act he may try to put on afterwards, we’ll both know that Rust isn’t as numb as he wants to be, that I made him feel good, that I made him want me, and that he’s hot-blooded and thrumming with life. I can feel how alive he is . I hope he thinks of this again some time, whether by himself or surrounded by people. I hope it drives him a bit mad, remembering this. 

A hot, sharp breath fans out across my cheek, his mouth slotting back over mine, open, daring me. 

I rut against his knee, my fingers teasing the wet head of his cock. I look down between us, at my hand on him, with half a mind to drop onto my knees and make him cum down my throat.

Rust lets out a grunt and swallows hard again.  

Then, he gently grabs my wrist and pulls my hand out of his pants, leaving me dazed and confused. With nimble fingers, he unzips my skirt, pushing it over my hips and dragging his hands over my bare skin. He asks me, “You want the bed?”

I step out of the pool of fabric around my feet, slide my shoes off. “‘s not a bed.” 

I slide my fingers beneath his sweaty, white undershirt, feeling the taut muscle there, feeling the steady breaths that contradict his racing pulse. He holds my eyes, dipping slightly when I dip, tilting when I tilt. “Seems like one to me.”

How unlike him. 

A smile spreads over my face, and his pupils blow wide, dark, imploring. “You wait ‘n’ see what happens when the dust-mites turn up.” 

His eyes on me alone are enough to leave me breathless, chest caving in on itself. Of course, when he kisses me softly, it only makes things worse – his long fingers curl around the base of my throat, watching me watching him, and his other hand slides up under the hem of my blouse, palm spread over my bellybutton. 

I sigh, try not to squirm. 

“You want the bed?” he repeats, heavy, rough. I bite back a needy whine that sits at the back of my mouth. His fingertips press down slightly into my pulse, tightening my breathing. 

I nod. “Yeah.” 

Think of all the times I’ve sulked over his lack of eye contact with me. Was I annoying? Uninteresting? That, obviously, was an immature way of looking at things, definitely not improved by my distinct femininity undergoing some kind of unspoken disapproval by most I met on the job. This is the most present he has ever been in a moment with me around.

As he pulls himself away, steps back, his eyes are darting over my face, less like he’s judging me and more like he’s trying to find and memorise every detail. I do that, sometimes: if I pay well enough attention, it feels like I’m re-living the moment when remembering. 

His hands slot sensibly into his pockets as if his cock isn’t blushing and poking out of his fly right now, belt undone, hanging low about his narrow hips. 

Legs don’t fail me now. I slink out of the glowing kitchen and carry on to where the mattress lies in a dim, blue corner, the strange crucifix watching over, a long shadow cast over the empty wall upon which it hangs. He follows shortly behind me, his warmth radiating out onto my back. 

I pause and look out onto the darkness revealed behind the half-open slats of the floor-to-ceiling blinds that shield the room from the window to the outside world. 

Rust’s presence is intoxicating behind me. He smells like cigarette smoke, still, enticing. I’m trying to quit, but he makes it damn hard. His nose is just shy of my hair, his body so close to enveloping me into him – the prospect of it makes me shiver in delight. I must hallucinate his fingertips along my spine. 

I unbutton my blouse with slow fingers, then slide it off and undo my bra. 

His breathing is level and grounding by my ear as he comes close, sliding his strong, wide hand up my stomach, along my ribs, and cups under my soft breast. He rubs over my nipple in gentle circles before squeezing over me warmly. He then comes around to pinch the creamy tissue gentle between his fingers and thumb, closing his hot mouth over, drawing along his feverish tongue. I sigh, stroke his hair, let him press soft pecks and kisses to the curve of the soft flesh and to my sternum.

My fingers, cupped around the nape of his neck, dip under the collar, cool. This touch, for some reason, causes him to make some sort of breathless, pathetic noise against me. His eyes are half-shut. 

“Anything else philosophical y’wanna get out before we fuck?” I quip smartly (though, not feeling so smart altogether), hand placed innocently on his hip. 

He lifts his head, removes his hands from my body – he looks so tragically beautiful in this light. “You want me inside you?” he asks genuinely, seemingly aloof to the fact I’m naked in front of him, open and wanton and pressing my thighs together, his eyes never drifting from mine.

“What do you want, Rust?” I whisper. 

He seems to really think about it – he’s always thinking. Briefly, his eyes flit down to my mouth. Then, he looks away, scratches at his forehead. 

After a moment longer, he swallows thickly and tips his head down over to the bed, tells me, “Lie down on the mattress,” in a gentle, decisive tone. He’s so soft-spoken – it makes my toes curl. 

I do as told, transfixed by the dark shadow in his eyes, and sink down to sit and then recline back on his coarse mattress, coarse bedsheets, with my weight on my forearms and chin tilted up towards him. He watches me, tucking his thick cock back into his underwear.

Still fully dressed in his work attire, he takes a step forward, looming over me, powerful, assertive. Saliva pools in my mouth—again—as I play with the thought of him sitting heavy on my tongue with his stomach tight, shaking, hands in my hair, fucking down my throat. I would let him. Hell, I’d probably let him do anything he wanted to me at this point. 

Does he know that? Maybe. I don’t know.

As he reaches his hand out too smooth the hair out of my face, I try to figure it out, but I can’t – he seems too wrapped up in his own desire to be thinking anything at the moment. I feel a flicker of satisfaction jump up in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that’s something else. 

“Lie back, girl,” he tells me. 

My cunt flexes. 

I thump onto my back, breathless. “Take off your shirt, Rust.” 

Without replying, he sinks down to his knees in front of me, my thighs. Instinctively, I prop myself up and watch him unbutton that wrinkled shirt all the way down, shrug it over his broad shoulders. I could fuck myself silly just over the thought of those shoulders, I remark inwardly. He tugs the wifebeater over his head, lean muscles catching the low light, strong, study, solid, and tosses the thing to the side thoughtlessly. My hands reach out to touch him, to feel him and know him. When my fingers press into his skin, glide up his neck and down over his chest, he sighs deeply. He then carefully removes my hands, urging me to sprawl down under him.

“Said lie back, didn’t I?” 

Rust doesn’t say another word before placing his large hands on my knees and easing them apart, lowering himself to press pecks and slow, open-mouthed kisses to my thighs, closer, closer, stroking my sensitive skin gently. I almost flinch at his every touch, like it burns. His face is awful serious, like he’s concentrating. I wriggle in anticipation, eager. 

“Rust,” I whisper purposelessly. He looks up, hums, searches my face for anything the matter. 

I watch on desperately, on the brink of feral distress. A sob clogs my throat as he kisses my fluttering stomach, ducking his head down and curling his forearms, his hands, around my thighs. The dark stamp of his bone-bird tattoo curls over his arm. I realise he is waiting for my attention to return to him, his eyes patient but glazed over with something cardinal. Hungry.

“Can—?”

“Yes.” 

He hums. And then he breathes hotly over my underwear before pressing his nose right there into the damp fabric, inhaling my scent there. I whimper at the pressure he applies with the strong bridge of his nose, at the wetness of his open mouth against me. He breathes heavily into me, groaning slightly beneath it all – I can’t tell past the thrumming of my heart in my ears.  

“Rust,” I whisper again, my shoulder straining with the task of keeping me up and looking down at the sight of his sweet head buried between my glistening thighs.   

“Lie back.”  

He kisses me through my underwear, dutifully kneading the flesh of my hips, my inner thighs.

I thump back against the mattress, helpless, keening into his touch as this grey man roughly tugs my underwear down, down, all the way down, until they’re clean off my body, long gone, and then returns his nose to the cleft of my pussy, unseaming me with his tongue, opening me up, breathing me in. It’s enough to draw a shallow, hoarse cry from me. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t say anything, biting down on my white knuckles.

Rust licks warm over my clit, sucking gently on the bud of nerves (then not so gently), before sliding down, down through my very centre.

Whining breathily, the twist in my stomach tightens and spasms as he presses my hips and thighs right down against the mattress, slow, strong, giving me time to notice it, realise it, give into it, deny the natural instinct to curl my limbs tight all over his face, his neck, his mouth. 

Holy fuck. Rust Cohle has his face buried between my legs right now. I have Rust Cohle’s tongue pushing deep into my cunt – he sighs softly, a sound with its own powerful gravity a black hole to envelop me in, and grinds his hips against the edge of the mattress for a split second, just once. My mind pulses with the thought of making him cum. I wonder if he feels the same hunger. 

Then, he’s sinking his long, elegant fingers into me, one, then two, and just the knowledge that those fingers belong to him makes my thighs quiver and shake, makes me sigh again. Thick, confident, they curl inside, slow like an experiment, right up to the knuckle. When he taps up against me, when I squeal and crimp up into his hold, he returns himself to mouth dutifully over my clit.  My hand threads itself into his hair, holding him steady – I offer a breathless moan when his grip across my hips loosen, an invitation to begin rolling myself up over his pretty face. He pulls his fingers out of me, wet and hot, and encourages my thighs upon his beautiful shoulders, clinging onto them urgently. He shudders a little, I think, when I lock them firmly around his head and grind myself shamelessly against his mouth, his nose. He moves his jaw, his face, in tandem.

I cum after a while like that, because how can I not? The searing buzz reaches a roiling static.

I go loose, moaning softly, melted down flat, and stroke fuzzy fingers through Rust’s pretty hair as he sucks my clit still, as he inhales again and sighs again, reduced to something primitive and needy.

Thick, my heartbeat throbs and echoes like a drum in my skull, threatening. I feel so full that I could mistake the beat of pleasure for nausea pressing in my throat. It was silly to think that this could all be satisfied just from one time. My eyes closed, Rust’s light touch over my abdomen, up to my throat, is acute and heightened, like a million tiny, individual sparks. His fingers fumble over my jaw, then press lightly over my pulse. 

He retreats just as I’m playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, coming to stand to full height above me, unthreading his belt from his trousers with quiet, precise hands. I press my shaking thighs together, watching him breathe strongly through his nose, trying to remain somewhat respectable in the presence of the darkening look in his eyes that is locked down on my body.

He pauses, wipes some shine from his nose. Before he can continue with whatever, I find myself sitting up on my knees, grabbing his hips hard enough to bruise all pretty and purple, shoving the trousers down to his knees, and palming him through his boxers. 

We don’t have to say anything. He just watches me passively, pushing my hair back again, behind my ears, my shoulders, rolling my earlobe softly between his fingertips.

I remove his underwear, take him into my mouth, thick and long and wanting; he sighs, holds my head with two steady hands.

When was the last time someone helped him like this? I honestly couldn’t have told you, even given a loose theory, prior to this moment: Rust is simultaneously the hottest and most non-sexual being I’ve ever come across in my life. He just happens to be beautiful; he just happens to inspire these sort of feelings choking up inside me. No overarching intention that he’ll ever admit to, no vanity, no preening. So strict to himself, so tight, like a piston, something that fights and pushes and hurts.

So, as I hold him firmly and suck at the head of his blushing cock, kissing him, I watch his face, savour the tart taste of him, and press my thighs together: he’s becoming warmer, looser.

Still, as much as I want him, I know he’s wanted me. However vague he tells it, he’s wanted me. Good Lord, he looks even more stressed now, somehow, than when we had just been talkin’. Hands gently cradling my skull, he tilts his head away, watches the cross on the wall, as he succumbs to it, maybe, and begins to gently, languidly fuck my face. I tuck a hand between my thighs, and I love him, my other with the fingers digging into his hip, his ass. If I’m lucky, maybe it’ll leave some sort of mark, just to remind him I was here, so that, when he’s being all indifferent again, with his eyes lowered to the floor as he shares a report with me at my prim, little desk, we’ll both know that we were once in this room together, here like this.

Rust breathes and breathes, almost mechanically, and slides his cock further into my mouth. The weight of him in there drives me half-insane. If I could consume him, envelop him, and we could be one and the same, I’d readily allow it. When he sinks deeper still down my throat, I sigh around him, rub myself the way I like.

His eyes are determinedly shut, like some part of him refuses to be here. 

Before I can make him cum, he shakes his head and tugs my hair back a little bit, mumbling for me to stop and sit away. 

For all his mouthiness just a half hour ago, would you look at him now?—Rust Cohle, plundered by the human sensation of speechlessness. I’ve never seen him out of his element before. When he comes down and cages me with his body, hot skin flush against hot skin, I don’t mean that in a bad sense. Shit, he’s far from it. But there’s nothing to say. Nothing of note, nothing to pick apart, no deeper meaning, no theory. Just an itch that has to be scratched. He wants, he is, and it’s heaven to see. 

In the dark, he sinks in to me as he is, eliciting from me a soft moan that curls over the shell of his ear. I have to bite down on his shoulder when comes the push, the stretch, the sink, the comfort of him inside. I curl my legs around his waist and grab at his ass, willing him deeper still. He shudders silently over me, thick ripples of pleasure rolling through his lean body.

I curse, but I’m sure it barely registers with him. 

His head lifts and his eyes clamp shut as he braces an arm against the wall, lifting one of my legs up over his hip and fucking into me deeper, slipping out and in, and again, and again. I know what I’d see if I took a look down, saw his cock pumping into me, but I can hardly do anything but buck my hips up to meet his effort, my stomach stuttering with that building pressure, hands gripping desperately around his neck and shoulders. 

Though, I’m not even sure it is effort that’s driving him. 

I mumble into his shoulder, dumb, focussing on the feel and press of him in my belly. I doubt he’s really aware of anything more than the sensation of it, evident from the small grunt that passes his lips as he fucks deep in me. His stomach presses heavier down onto mine, crushing a delicious pressure there, teasing out a long, breathy whimper. He snakes an arm around my hips, pushes his free hand to the back of my knee, tilting my legs back a little more, and then pulls me wider. Tight, he moves me how he wants me, my flesh dipping and carving, fucking himself raw with me, with my hot cunt. His mouth moves over mine, not kissing me, not speaking, just there, present, hot, panting. He doesn’t open his eyes, so I close mine, and I breathe.

Rust stutters and cums and spills over into me with a grunt. He pants sharply, harshly, rhythmically into my mouth, tense again, and then he collapses over my body, and he lays there. I lay there too, burning on the far inside. 

I think he only really remembers I’m there when I shift under him.

His eyelashes brush against my cheek. “Sorry,” he murmurs, but the sound of his voice scrapes directly against my brain with the shock of a flesh-wound. 

I assume he’s referring to the thick cum that I can feel leaking out of me now. He shifts his hips, adjusting himself in the grip of my cunt. My fingers wrap around his arms, squeeze as I feel him easing out. 

“It’s okay,” I reply. 

He glances down between us and guides himself out with a lewd noise, swallowing hard. I shiver. 

Quiet, sedated, he shrugs his trousers, his underwear, off of his ankles, slipping the bedsheet over both our naked selves. His hand spreads and flattens warm over my abdomen, feeling the gentle swell and sink of the breaths I take and release.

#true detective #rust cohle #marty hart #rust cohle x reader #rust cohle x reader smut #okay cool this is a bit niche hope you liked it #this show made me question my life's purpose #the first season at least #thanks matthew mcconaughey #anybody else here like Fiona apple or what

[benkeibear]

⋆꙳✧༄ NSFW Alphabet

❖ Character: Xavier (love and deepspace)

❖ Reader: female | AFAB

❖ Wordcount: 1511 without the prompts

❖ WARNINGS: switch!Xav, mentions of bondage, somnophilia, cum eating, creampies, oral (both receiving), consensual filming, masturbation, sex toys, slight exhibitionism

❖ A/n: requested by my lovely @suyacho for my alphabet milestone event!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

ꕤ Xav is very sleepy after sex and prefers to just cuddle and being held by you in general brings him great comfort

ꕤ Don't let him snooze off tho because you won't be getting up anytime soon so coax him into cleaning up before you cuddle up for the sleepy time

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ꕤ He really likes his Hands but doesn't know why. He likes the many things he can do or hold with them - you for example

ꕤ On you he really likes your chest and thighs! It's comforting to rest his head on them like a pillow or to bury his face between them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

ꕤ Xavier cums so much. It's rather liquidy and more on the translucent side and doesn't taste too bad

ꕤ He prefers to release inside of you, doesn't matter where but he feels too good to pull out and he hopes you don't mind getting a little messy for him

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

ꕤ Xav would love to film going down on you. Just thinking about eating you out gets him so hard - and to be able to watch the way he's eating your pretty pussy would help him a lot to get through some lonely nights

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

ꕤ He has a decent amount of experience, not fully sleeping around but he did have a hand full of sexual partners - but most of them were within relationships

ꕤ He does know his way around your body, mostly letting your reactions guide him and taking mental notes of every tiny detail so he can make you come undone without fail every single time

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

ꕤ He feels boring for it but he likes missionary a lot but his absolute favorite is cowgirl!

ꕤ it doesn't matter if it's the classical or reversed as long as you're bouncing on his cock and he can watch you moan and cum around his cock

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

ꕤ He's a good mix!

ꕤ He takes the pleasure part serious but if something funny or unexpected happens he can laugh it off with you without having his mood ruined - sex is supposed to be fun after all!

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

ꕤ He likes it when it's shaved but he's far too lazy to keep up with it! He shaves it and lets it grow until it starts bothering him and repeats the cycle.

ꕤ On you he doesn't have a preference, as long as you practice general hygiene he can work with lots of hair or entirely bare and everything in between! He would never tell you to shave or anything since you don't expect it of him either

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

ꕤ It's not romantic per se, more gentle and loving

ꕤ lots of touches, his hands always somehow touching you. Before you two get into it and are just making out, his hands stay respectful, waiting for consent but once he's allowed to he's practically worshipping your body with his hands

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ꕤ He masturbates quite frequently, even when you're a couple since he doesn't expect you to sleep with him at every whim

ꕤ Most of the times he's just bored and plays with himself or at night when he can't fall back asleep due to one too many naps - it helps him fall asleep again

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ꕤ That man gets off from pussy eating alone! He does it for his own pleasure

ꕤ He's also into some light bondage (on you or him) and from time to time he would like to roleplay or have you edge him until he's begging for you.

ꕤ Also a big fan of Somnophilia, wake him up with you on top of him or he wakes you up with some good head (all with consent ofc)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ꕤ His all time favorite is no one's surprise - the bed. He just likes how comfortable and spacious it is, if you put a towel down you don't even need to worry about making a mess

ꕤ right behind it is the shower. It's the perfect place for quickies or just feeling each other up since you're naked already

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

ꕤ He loves it when you play hard to get, when he has to put effort into getting you into bed is just such a turn on for him!

ꕤ Xav also likes seeing you in his clothes, even if it's his oldest pair of sweatpants and the sweater he wore the day before - you just look so sexy and all his

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

ꕤ He might be into roleplay but consensual noncon is something he wouldn't like to participate in, he doesn't see how someone begging for him to stop can be hot (I peep a consent king)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

ꕤ He prefers giving over receiving but he certainly won't ever say no to a blowjob. Perhaps you two could engage in the good old 69?

ꕤ Oh he's such a messy eater! Spreads your pretty folds to spit onto your cunt before lapping it all up again, his fingers lazily curling into your sweet spot while his tongue dances over your clit with such calculated moves it has your toes curling

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

ꕤ He's not rough, mostly rutting into you like a bunny, fast shallow thrusts because you just feel so good he can't hold back

ꕤ When you're on top he prefers a slower pace, seeing you glide up and down his cock or moving your hips in small wave like motions against his - it drives him crazy

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

ꕤ Xavier likes them, especially if you two are horny but too busy to get to it properly

ꕤ a lot of times it's just him fucking his own fist while he eats you out, kneeling in front of you while you stand up

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

ꕤ He is all up for trying out things he or you've seen in porn and also getting it on in public spaces but he makes sure you two don't get caught… and if you do well, he will laugh it off but he's a little embarrassed inside

ꕤ He is the kind of guy who's down to try everything in his life at least once to see if he liked it or not and he would participate in everything you come up with even if he's not into it

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

ꕤ hah. Good luck. As stated above that man is rutting into you like a bunny and also has the stamina

ꕤ But most of the time it stays at 1 long round with long foreplay. If you're still hungry for more you can ride him all night long

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

ꕤ He's far too lazy to clean any toys so his hand does just fine for sessions with himself

ꕤ But that one time you used your magic wand against his cock to edge him relentlessly did things to him and he would love to experience again - or put you into the same position

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

ꕤ He only really teases when he's lapping at your folds, liking the power he has since he decides if you get to release or not but he doesn't tease too much

ꕤ but he does like to be teased, especially if you restrict him from using his hands and he's all vulnerable under your mercy

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

ꕤ Xavier would say he's silent but reality is he's a whiner.

ꕤ His head buried in your cunt or neck, whimpering and whining into you when you make him feel so so good. It's not too loud but it's enough to make you clench because it sounds so hot

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

ꕤ You caught him one time humping his pillow, your used panties in his face as he whined your name. He didn't know you're home early and you thought he called for you... you made him finish like that, watching how desperate he was

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

ꕤ pretty. The best way to describe it!

ꕤ Xav has a perfectly sized dick with 17cm (6,5inch) it's not too big but just enough to make you feel so full! It's pale and has 2 veins on each side with a cute pale pink tip that's leaking precum whenever he's hard

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

ꕤ It's not that high in the sense of he's yearning for it all the time but he kind off makes it depend on you. If you want him, he's ready to go if it's once a month or five times a day

ꕤ Like stated above he's touching himself a lot of times out of boredom or because he can't sleep but it's not like he's desperately in need

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

ꕤ It's almost embarrassing how fast he falls asleep after, sometimes he just came and collapses on top of you so he can “catch his breath”. 9/10 times he ends up falling asleep on you so please refer back to letter A and practice some aftercare with him before he can “rest his eyes”

Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace smut #xavier x reader #xavier smut #love and deepspace xavier #lnds #lnds x reader #lnds smut #lnds xavier

[clockwayswrites]

Like Betta Fish Do Part 24

WC: 3102, Masterpost

Danny stared up at the towering facade of Wayne manner from its front steps.

Yep, clearly cursed.

Jason didn’t seem much more cheerful from where he stood next to Danny.

“We can still run,” Danny offered.

Jason just sighed, “No, we came through the gate so Alfred knows we’re here. If we left I’d get the eyebrow next time.”

“Ah,” Danny said with a sage nod. “The eyebrow, of course. Very scary.”

“Just you watch, once you’ve been around long enough and stop being an esteemed guest, you’ll get the eyebrow too,” Jason warned.

The warning just made Danny grin.

“What?” Jason asked, eying the smile wearily.

“You planning to keep me around long enough for me to stop being an esteemed guest?”

Jason huffed out a laugh and leaned over to brush a kiss to Danny’s temple. “You bet I am. You’d have to die to be rid of me. Oh wait…”

Danny laughed and bumped his shoulder against Jason. “Okay, well, I’ll fear the eyebrow when it gets there. First I have to get through tonight.”

“You did fine with the horde of annoying siblings.”

“Yeah, well, they got to kick my ass repeatedly in Mario Kart and Party. I don’t think that’s going to work with your dad or the guy who’s basically your grandfather.”

“Not really, Bruce is surprisingly bad at video games and Alfred would never.”

“Shame, getting beat up and getting back up is my best trait,” Danny said with a dramatic sigh.

“Just be yourself. It was enough for me,” Jason said.

Danny felt a blush crawl up his neck and cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, sap.”

Jason chuckled, pressed one more kiss to Danny’s temple, and finally took the last few steps to knock on the door. It opened almost instantly to an extremely distinguished older man in a tailed suit and white gloves.

Danny swallowed nervously.

“Master Jason, it is very good to see you tonight.”

“Hey Alfie,” Jason said. He stepped into the manor and pulled Danny in by their linked hands. “Alfred, this is my boyfriend Danny Nightingale. Danny, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

Alfred gave a little nod. “A pleasure to meet you Master Daniel.”

Danny couldn’t help but wince at that. With the manor it brought back far too many memories that Danny didn’t want to think about. “Um, I prefer Danny, if… that’s not a problem, Mr. Pennyworth?”

“Of course not, Master Danny. But you must call me Alfred then.”

“I can do that, Alfred,” Danny said with a relieved smile. As he was handing over his coat and scarf, he picked up some noise from the stairs and tried not to turn that way.

“Remember, Bruce tonight, not Brucie or you know who,” Dick whispered in a way that Danny wasn’t supposed to hear. The benefits of death.

“Yes Dick, I think you’ve said that enough,” someone who must have been Bruce answered. At least he sounded mostly amused by his son’s harping.

As much as Danny was very aware that the Bruce Wayne was Jason’s father, it was still something to see Bruce Wayne coming down the stairs. He looked nothing like the public figure, not dressed down like he was in a dark shirt and a cozy looking cardigan.

It was almost worse because now Danny felt completely wrong footed.

“Jason,” Bruce said with a smile. “And you must be Danny.”

“Yes sir,” Danny said as he reflexively shook the offered hand.

“Just Bruce, please. That’s quite a grip you have,” Bruce said.

Danny’s blush deepened and he quickly released Bruce’s hand.

“He said he trains with a xiphos and a dory,” Damian said from the side of the room where he basically just seemed to appear.

“Greek weaponry?” Bruce asked with a raised brow. “That’s unusual.”

“My teacher’s Greek and a fan of historic weaponry,” Danny said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m not very good with them though, as much as she hopes to change that. I prefer hand to hand.”

“He’s pretty good at that. We spar once a week,” Jason said. He stepped to stand beside Danny, which Danny was grateful for.

Even aware off all the eyes in the room tracking his movement, Danny couldn’t help but lean into Jason’s side. It helped ease some of his nerves when Jason instantly draped an arm around his shoulders.

“Who else are we expecting?” Jason asked.

“Just Tim and Duke, they’re upstairs,” Dick answered as he finally came forward. “Hey Danny.”

“Hi Dick,” Danny said, “and hello Damian.”

“Yes, hello,” Damian said with a sniff. “Did you bring your xiphos?”

Danny did his best to stifle a smile. “Sorry, I don’t have one at my place, you’ll have to wait until I can make a trip back to Illinois.”

“Is that where you’re from, Danny?” Bruce asked as he waved them towards a room to the left.

“Born and raised. I came from a little city called Amity Park,” Danny explained, as if Batman didn’t already know that, especially after Tim’s digging.

Jason steered them over to the the two seater sofa in the sort of sitting room only rich people had. Once they had settled in, he took Danny’s hand, rubbing his thumb across Danny’s knuckles in a grounding touch.

“Gotham must be quite the change.” Bruce took an armchair for himself while Dick nudged Damian to the other couch.

“It is, I’ve never lived somewhere so big. I won’t pretend it hasn’t been overwhelming at times, but it’s also really nice that the city has so much to offer. I’ve been enjoying living here.”

“You’re here for school if I remember correctly?”

“Aerospace engineering at Gotham U,” Danny explained. “It’s my first year, but I’ve got all my gen eds done so I’m somewhere between a sophomore and junior.”

Bruce gave a little nod and leaned back in his seat. “Are you considering a masters or doctorate?”

“I am, opportunities get so much better with one, but I’ll just have to see in two years. I’m, um, on scholarship so it will depend if I can get a stipend for grad school,” Danny said, once again reminded of how awkward it was to be on a Wayne scholarship while knowing the Waynes. (Sitting in their manor only made the feeling worse.)

“I hope that it works out for you. Wayne Enterprises has an aerospace division, you know.”

“I do,” Danny said. He really wished he could stop blushing over everything behind said to him. “It’s somewhere I’ve strongly though about applying too. If I want to stay in Gotham, it’s really my only chance too.”

Jason’s hand tightened around Danny’s for a moment.

Bruce seemed to catch it, of course he did. It made Danny very aware he was in a room with Batman. With lots of other Bats.

“Are you hoping to be able to?”

“Yeah. There’s…” Danny gave in an glanced at Jason. It wasn’t as if the others weren’t going to pick up on it anyways, so he might as well act honestly. “… a lot to stay around for, right now.”

“Well, I think you can at least be confident you’ll get an interview,” Bruce said with a chuckle.

It made Danny shake his head a little. “I mean, I’ll take that, but I don’t want a job unless I’m actually good for it. I get that networking is a real thing, but that should only get me in the door. If I get to work for WE, I want it to be because I worked hard, because I am working hard at this, and because I deserver the job.”

Bruce smiled. It was a slight thing, but for the first time that night Danny felt it was completely real. “That’s noble of you. Don’t worry, none of the family sits on hiring boards at that level.”

“Um, that’s good,” Danny said, realizing that he just basically told a family made from nepotism that he didn’t want to accept nepotism. He shot a desperate look to Jason.

The jerk just laughed at him.

“Don’t change,” Jason said before pressing another one of those soft kisses to Danny’s temple.

Danny was really starting to like them.

“Hey Danny, good to see you again,” Duke said as he came into the sitting room. It sounded honest coming from him. “Sorry I wasn’t down when you got here.”

“Hey Duke, homework?”

“So much homework,” he lamented.

“Yeah, the end of this semester is going to crush me,” Danny said. “I’ve got, like, three projects starting next week.”

“Good luck, dude,” Duke said, leaning over from where he had sat on the couch to fist bump Danny.

Danny looked up as someone cleared his throat to see Alfred in the doorway. “Master Tim is still missing?”

“You know how he is,” Bruce said.

“Indeed,” Alfred said, sounding like he wanted to sigh but was too proper to. “I shall fetch him in a moment. Dinner is served, sirs.”

-

“Stick a fork in me I’m done,” Danny said right before he face planted dramatically onto the couch.

“You did great,” Jason soothed, hanging up the coat that Danny had discarded mindlessly next to the door.

“Eempfatinerifatmn mone.”

“You’re going to have to stop making out with the throw pillow if you want me to understand you,” Jason said before having to duck the aforementioned throw pillow as it was thrown at his head.

“I said I just had dinner with Batman, I’m done,” Danny said as he rolled over. He blinked up at the ceiling. “Oh, we’re at your place.”

“How out of it were you on the ride?” Jason asked. He sat on the arm of the couch and brushed back some of Danny’s unruly hair.

“Dinner with Batman,” Danny reiterated seriously.

“Point taken. But really, you did great.”

Danny grumbled.

“You did. You have Damian curious about how you fight. Duke and Dick think you’re funny. You even talked shop with Tim.”

“Tim still doesn’t trust me, or Dick,” Danny pointed out.

“Tim doesn’t trust anyone,” Jason said. “And Dick likes you, he just needs time still. It was a scare for him and it hasn’t been that long. Alfred thinks you’re darling, I’m pretty sure, and Bruce smiled; real smiles.”

“I just…”

“You’re just over thinking it. Why don’t I take you to bed before you fall asleep,” Jason said. Then he realized what he had said. “That’s, I mean, just to sleep. If you’d be comfortable with that? If not I can drive you home or…”

Jason trailed off as Danny snagged his hand and kissed his knuckles gently. “Now who’s over thinking?”

Now smiling softly, Jason asked, “That a yes then?”

“As long as I can borrow a shirt to sleep in, that’s a yes.”

“You’ll be swamped,” Jason warned as he stood. He bent down and picked Danny up in one easy motion.

Danny gave a little squeak and quickly wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck. “I can live with that when I get first class service like this.”

“Lazy fish.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-

Jason stopped in surprise as he entered his office after a meeting on Monday. “Bruce?”

“Jaylad! I thought that we would go and grab lunch.”

“I, sure,” Jason said, confused despite himself. “Just give me a moment to finish up a few notes from the meeting?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the lobby in… five? Ten?”

“Ten,” Jason agreed, moving around to sit at his desk.

It was only his training to focus that stopped him from being distracted by the fact that Bruce wanted to get lunch. It’s not that it never happened, just that it was rare enough to be odd. For all of the Brucie persona (though that had been toned down ever since Damian showed up), Bruce was actually very busy at the company and Jason had thrown himself into the deep end of the foundation. It was hard to find time even without the rest of their lives getting in the way. And it would be a lie to say things were never awkward between them still.

Exactly ten minutes later he was meeting Bruce in the lobby.

“I was thinking that cafe down the block, the one on Polk,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, that works, they’re pretty good,” Jason agreed. He let them get out on the street before he asked, “So is this lunch for a reason?”

“Somewhat. I wanted to talk with you about last night’s dinner.”

Jason’s heart jumped a beat.

“Danny seems a very nice person,” Bruce said. Jason braced himself for the ‘but’. “And I’m glad that you felt comfortable bringing him to the manor for dinner. It means a lot to me that we’re in a place that you’re willing to do that.”

“You don’t have concerns?” Jason said, honestly shocked at how easy Bruce, the notorious over planner, was being about this.

“Of course I have concerns, Jaylad, I’m a parent. I’m concerned how you’ll do if it doesn’t work out. I’m concerned if it does. I’m concerned for you having to deal with the press, both of you. And I won’t pretend I’m not concerned about his parents, they sound one step away from being evil scientists. It makes me concerned about what Danny had to go through growing up,” Bruce said, “but none of that stops me from being happy for you that you’ve found Danny.”

“Oh,” Jason said, at a loss for any other words. He had honestly expected to have to go over the same issues and worries that Tim had again with Bruce. Maybe Timbit briefing Bruce had really worked… or maybe Jason was still too used to expecting the worst of Bruce, even when it wasn’t fair. It was a little easier these days to see where they had both messed up. “I’m happy with him, Bruce. He… everything is just brighter since I’ve known him. And I don’t want to have to hide that from you all. I mean, I did at the start because it was all new and I was still figuring it out, but… I want you to be able to know him too. He’s important to me.”

“Well, he’s welcome over at the manor whenever, barring emergencies of course,” Bruce said, alluding to the night life. “I think Alfred is determined to feed the boy after the way Danny praised the meal last night.”

Jason chuckled and held the door to the cafe open for Bruce. “Yeah, it’s easy to feel that way about Danny.”

They were seated quickly and both spent a few minutes looking over the menu. After they had ordered, Jason fiddled with his glass of water, wiping away a trail of condensation. “Hey Dad?”

Bruce looked up right away. It was rare for Jason to ever call him ‘Dad’ these days. “Yes son?”

“I’ve been thinking about going to college?”

“Okay,” Bruce said, folding his hands and giving Jason his undivided attention. “Tell me your thoughts?”

-

“So,” Jason said as soon as Danny picked up the phone. “You can officially consider yourself to have the stamp of approval.”

“Huh?” Danny tried to pull his thoughts away from the equation he was staring at.

“Bruce cornered me for lunch. You are formally welcome at the manor any time.”

“Oh, wow, okay. That went better than I thought,” Danny said.

“I told you you did great,” Jason said.

“I guess at least not badly,” Danny said.

“Fish.”

“Fine,” Danny said with an exaggerated sigh. “I did great. I am amazing. I am the very best there ever was.”

“Damn right,” Jason said. “How has your day been?”

Danny flopped back onto the floor. “Ugh, project one is already eating my soul.”

“Anything I can do to help in these dark times?”

“Make sure I see the sky every now and again?” Danny joked. “And maybe… we can repeat last night?”

It was the best sleep Danny had gotten in a long time.

“Of course we can.” The noise on Jason’s end changed, and Danny had to assume he stepped into his building. “Speaking of the end of the semester, are you leaving Gotham for the break?”

Danny tried not to tense. “Maybe around the new years but I thought I’d just take it easy before. Sleep off the semester.”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

Yeah, there it was.

“Um, really I thought I’d just hole up and watch a bunch of really bad movies like Sharknado Five.”

“They’ve made five of those things?” Jason asked. He sounded mostly horrified and a little curious.

“Six, and three spin offs.”

“Huh. Well, I know it might be, a lot, but if you want, you can come over to the manor for Christmas?”

Danny frowned down at where he was absentmindedly picking at the seam on the couch. “I don’t… really like Christmas? The whole season sorta gets to me so I would really rather just… not.”

Here it comes. Three, two, one…

“Okay.”

What?

“What?”

“Okay,” Jason said simply. “Can I give you your present for, I don’t know, Solstice instead? Just since I already have it.”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face if he tried. Jason didn’t mind. He wasn’t pushing or bullying or guilt tripping about it. It was just… okay. “Yeah, Solstice sounds perfect.”

“Good. And I’ll make you something to stick in the oven for food.”

“You don’t have to,” Danny said, even as the very thought warmed him.

“I want to. Also it might butter you up to say yes.”

“Yes to what?”

“Going with me as my plus one to the Wayne New Years Eve Gala.”

“A gala?”

“Just, the press already knows about you. It might be weird if you don’t come? And I… it would be nice to have you there.” The nerves were clear in Jason’s voice.

Danny really couldn’t say no to that, could he? Besides, he could visit Jazz after New Years still. “Okay, but you have to make sure I look alright.”

“Done. You’ll be the prettiest orca there.”

Danny covered up a snort of laughter. “Isn’t it supposed to be penguin suits for tuxes? Besides, orcas aren’t even fish, they’re really big murder dolphins.”

“I could put you in a gold suit, then you’d be my goldfish.”

“Jason, no,” Danny said, trying hard not to keep from laughing.

“You’d be the talk of Gotham.”

“You mean the laughing stock.”

“I wouldn’t let them, not about my fish,” Jason said. “Can we bargain for blue? It would match your eyes.”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Danny said. “I’ll be watching for you adding in fish references.”

“I would never!”

“You’re a liar.”

“You like it.”

“I do.”

-----

AN: Danny has survived meeting the family! He is very sleepy, but he survived! Sorry for the people waiting for a pissed off Bruce, but that's not my Batman ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Tim's research and questioning last week did its job to let Bruce feel prepared and Bruce really does want his children happy.

And a gala on the horizon for the next part! How exciting!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 4

shower/tub - sakusa kiyoomi x reader

word count: 531

kinktober masterlist

Sakusa Kiyoomi liked to think he was an efficient person.

He did his budgeting on the same date every month, he prepped all his meals for the week on Sundays, he had ‘fun money’ set aside so it wouldn’t dip into his other expenses. And he was meticulously clean, infamously so.

His efficiency permeated all his activities, including the bedroom ones. As evidenced by this very moment, where he had your bare body pressed to the cold bathroom tile, wet and pliant, taking his cock deep in you with every precise stroke.

Water ran down Sakusa’s back in rivets, cleansing his body of the sweat and grime of the day, while your pussy worked on relieving a different kind of stress that was pent up inside of him. See? Efficient. He was knocking out two birds with one stone.

“Omi.” Your breathy voice hit his ear, and he groaned in reply, grip tightening on your legs where he had hooked his hands under your knees, supporting your weight against the wall. You felt divine, clenching around him just right to hug every pleasurable spot on his shaft. Sakusa bit his lip at the feeling, letting himself drown not only under the weight of the water splashing his back, but in the wet, hot cavern of your cunt. You were delicious, your body, slippery against his own yet still warm, moving with him the best you could in your restricted position.

Sakusa picked up the pace when he felt his orgasm approaching, wanting nothing more than for you to cum with him. He shifted only slightly, knowing exactly what angle had you seeing stars, watching intently as your jaw went slack and your eyes rolled back. This was his favorite vision, the sight of you so far gone that you lost control of your most basic facial expressions, so far gone that all you could do was hold on tight as he pounded into you over and over, until your eyes were squeezing shut and you were releasing all over his cock, your juices mixing with the water that ran down your bodies, cleansing both of you immediately.

He groaned long and low as he came, body pressing you into the wall even more, reveling in the soft give of your body, so different to his own lean, hard one, a welcome relief after a day of hardwood floors and harsh volleyballs. He filled you up, going as deep as he could, before pulling out and watching the white liquid run down your thigh, immediately being diluted by the water and washing away.

He laid a long, deep kiss on your lips, setting you down on shaky legs but not letting you pull too far from him. He tasted your mouth with quick strokes of his tongue, sighing when you ran a hand over his wet curls. He let you both stand in the water, using his hands to wipe away at your body as you did the same for him. Within seconds, you were both clean and ready for bed.

So efficient. You would tease him. But he prided himself over it. He had saved both of you time, hadn’t he?

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky y @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[vivalarevolution]

𝓒𝓸𝓷 𝓛𝓪 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓪

Neteyam x Omaticaya Reader

Request: „My god there isn't enough smut for the avatar characters. I cherish yours! I can't stop thinking about neteyam. Something where they are just yearning for each other. Making out till their queues are basically connecting without them having to put them together. I imagine it would be so intense.‟

A/N: Request written by anon. I hope that I have conveyed the behaviors and habits of the character well and you will enjoy reading it. Please remember english is not my native language, mistakes may occur. The work includes smut ,minors do not interact.

*Characters are aged up

He couldn't stop staring at her, he wasn't able to.

When she got out of the water, she intoxicated him with herself, with her long ,thick hair that cascaded down her back, with her hands that she lifted up exposing her body even more and with the way her eyes closed again and again in a surprisingly sensual way.

But he wasn't the only one watching.

Her eyes, though only slightly open, saw Neteyam's actions. But like him, she just stared, making no other move. This type of dancing was all too familiar to na’vi’s because none of them wanted to do anything about it.

Till this day.

Because they were alone, Y/n wasn't afraid of the onlookers as she decided to turn around and go in a direction only she knew, just to stop and turn her head towards the boy. Her fingers beckoning him to her before moving again forward, knowing that he would obey her silent command without a word of objection.

Neteyam, enchanted, moved towards her, almost running to reach the girl who had so effectively befuddled his senses just as he had unknowingly befuddled hers.

-Where are we going? - he asked from behind her, but the only answer was a mysterious smile from her - Come on, don't play with me like that - he added, trying to grab her tail, but she escaped him at the last moment, turning to face him without stopping walking.

-It's you who decided to follow me - she pointed out playfully, nudging him with her tail, which he tried to grab a moment ago - We are currently going ahead, my Nete.

-I noticed that - he replied, rolling his eyes slightly, unable to stop smiling after hearing how she called him - You won't tell me, don't you?

-It's called a surprise - she stated, spinning around him in a frolicsome manner, still nudging him gently - I think you'll like it - she confessed more quietly, looking at him from under thick eyelashes, driving him crazy - Come on, my Nete, it's not far.

As she spoke, she grabbed his larger palm, dragging him behind her. Neteyam allowed himself to be led without objection, feeling pleasant warmth spreading over his body, when in his field of vision he could see their joined hands.

-So that's what you wanted to show me? - he asked, entering the cave with her.

-Not that, but what's at the end - she replied, releasing his arm to his dismay - Catch me if you can, my Nete - she added before fleeing as fast as a gust of wind.

It was as if they were children again. Chasing around the forest for an unknown purpose, for satisfaction unknown to anyone. But now they were older and the chase turned into something significant, something primal and the boy was ready to chase her even to the edge of the world, just to catch her in his arms. But just when he thought he had her, she disappeared around the corner, and he lost her completely from his sight.

-Y/n - he called, but got no response - I swear to Eywa that you will be death to me - he muttered, going even deeper until he reached the second exit, which faced the ocean.

The girl watched him in the shadows, waiting for him to pass by before she silently followed him, after a while grabbing his shoulders, gliding her lips over his ear.

-I see you - she whispered before kissing the skin on his neck to his surprise, sending shivers down his body.

He turned his head towards her, afraid that it was a cruel joke but she looked at him lovingly, thus soothing his nerves.

Her sudden movement startled him, but the desire was greater and in the next moment, his hands were on her hips, pulling her towards him. His golden eyes traced the structure of her face. The way her yellow eyes stared at him, the way their pupils dilated, or the way white marks began to appear on her face from the darkness that surrounded them.

-You're beautiful - he said, sincerity oozing out of his words.

-You look at me so that I dare not doubt, my Nete - she replied, rubbing her cheek against his.

-Cause I've got my mind on you - he added as an excuse, closing his eyes.

-And I've got my mind on you - she said softly, gliding her lips over his, slowly, gently, intimately.

They both drowned in each other. In their touches, in emotions that they denied for too long. The feeling of wet lips and tongues rubbing against each other was so intense that the couple tried to get closer, practically melting into one. Their moans grew louder with each passing moment, and each subsequent close-up, while their hands wandered in a desperate act, trying to memorize every bit of the other's skin with just their fingers.

-My Nete - she whimpered surprisingly loudly.

The boy looked at her from above, noticing only then what a mess they had become. Their clothes were rumpled, their skin marked, their hair disheveled and sometimes untangled from their braids, while their kuru practically fused together. They were so close yet so far.

-Y/n - he began, but fell silent as the girl's torso rose up and their breaths mingled with each other.

-Connect them, my Nete. Make us one - she whispered, all the while looking into his eyes the color of liquid honey.

He couldn't say no, he just couldn't, he didn't want to. So he did as she asked. It didn't take much, just a light move, and the braids fully joined together, making a mates out of them.

The connection was something unfamiliar to both of them, something almost forbidden by how right and good it was. Their bodies trembled, flooded with pleasant warmth and an erotic sensation never experienced by either of them.

Neteyam's instincts started working for him. His hands, as if ruled by something foreign, slid down to the girl's waist, carefully removing the material from her body, revealing her womanhood. Only by looking at the naked flower of her femininity did he realize how he exposed her, but before he could ask, Y/n's legs spread involuntarily wider, inviting him.

Bringing his face closer to her clit, his ears involuntarily twitched, feeling her sweet scent enter his nostrils. His tongue slowly moved along her labia, collecting the fluid that had accumulated on them, and hearing the golden-eyed na'vi groans of satisfaction, he repeated this action, getting addicted to the feeling of being between her legs, feasting on the hidden source.

-My Nete - she moaned, not knowing what is what anymore, her orgasm mixed with the feeling of tsaheylu, creating a feeling of haze and thirst on her mind.

-How do you feel? - Neteyam asked softly, kissing her belly, the valley between her breasts, and finally her neck.

-Amazing - she confessed, knowing exactly that she wasn't the only one who felt pleasure, not when they were joined - How did you know what to do? - she asked, unable to stop herself.

-I just knew - he answered quickly, not wanting to admit about discovering the strange Earth books he had found with Lo'ak and Spider - How did you know what I was doing? - he said, trying to distract attention from himself.

The girl smiled innocently, nudging his thigh with her leg.

-I explored - she confessed, looking into his eyes - When you mature you are curious about your body, it's natural. Haven't you ever been curious about exploring your body? - she asked, slowly placing her hands on his shoulder to pull herself up.

-No - he confessed quietly - I was too busy...

-Do you want me to explore your body for you? - she suggested, turning them so that she was on top - Do you want me to touch you, my Nete? - she whispered into his ear, rubbing her fingers against the manhood hidden behind his clothes.

-Yes - he choked out, feeling moans wanting to come out as Y/n's hand rubbed his member, carefully peeking behind the fabric to touch it fully.

-You made me feel so good - she remarked tenderly, kissing the skin on his shoulder - Let me hear you, please. There's no shame in showing how good you feel.

At these words, the boy's mouth opened to let out the sounds that wanted to flow from the depths of his throat. His hands gripped Y/n's thighs as she sensually moved up and down his shaft, occasionally running her thumb over the head. Her lips found their place on his, tasting herself unconsciously.

-Please put it inside - he said, panting - Please. I need you.

-Of course, my Nete - she replied, propping herself up for convenient access and positioning.

Neteyam held her close as she pushed him into her tight, hot canal. Their foreheads touched each other as breaths, whines, growls and moans mingled into one.

-So good, so perfect - he whispered, eyes closed, wiping their faces together.

-I love you - she said, sitting fully on him, calming her pounding heart.

-I love you - he repeated, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Y/n waited a long time, getting used to the feeling of bulging and a slight burning sensation, before lazily moving her loins back and forth, left and right, and around, driving them crazy. He wanted to help, to take control, but the sight of his beloved above him, her face focused and full of pleasure, he could only watch, trying to remember every detail, begging to find a way to shut himself up in this moment now and forever.

Opening her eyes, the girl smiled slightly at the sight of Neteyam and the way he looked at her as if she were a goddess herself. Her movements gained strength, but not speed, keeping a slow and intimate pace.

Not a word was spoken but their eyes said it all and the connection made them aware that they were one. Their thoughts, heartbeats, everything flew between them like the most beautiful of paths.

-So close, my Nete - she whispered, holding his face in her hands - I want us to come together.

-We will. I promise - he replied, unexpectedly lifting his own hips up -Give me everything, my Y/n. I want everything from you - he purred into her mouth, feeling how after these sweet words the girl's insides tightened tighter if it was possible, almost preventing him from moving any further.

-My Nete - she whimpered as a feeling of familiar warmth flooded her body and a constellation appeared before her eyes.

Neteyam growled, reaching his climax with her as he said, burying her in his arms before collapsing to the ground beneath them, dragging the girl's tired body with him. In response, she snuggled into his torso, wrapping her tail around his leg as he did the same.

Their eyes involuntarily closed, and a calming darkness engulfed their minds, putting them into the arms of sleep and dreams while their bodies and hearts were still connected , forever as one.

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #fanfiction #alien smut #pandora #na'vi #na'vi x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x fem!reader #friends to lovers #teen romance #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar x reader smut

[mixtape-racha]

freak on a leash - p.js

words: 1.32k // warnings: cussing, unprotected piv, "sir" kink, reader is referred to as "princess" "puppy" "whore" and "bitch", mean dom!jay, brat!reader, established relationship, mentioned enhypen members, this isn't a complete smut but basically the lead up?? beginning??

you and jay had been dating for a while now - almost two years, actually - and you could’ve sworn blind that you’d never seen him this angry. of course, you absolutely deserved it. spending the entire day riling him up, teasing him and flirting with his friends. god, you even went as far as to flash him your bare cunt at him from beneath your tiny fucking skirt the second you were left alone in heeseung’s living room for more than 5 seconds.

so yeah, you definitely deserved the anger radiating off of his body in waves right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret what got you here in the slightest.

“you think you’re so funny, don’t you,” jay seethed from across the center console, knuckles turning white at his tight grip on the steering wheel. “so big and clever, just trying to wind me up like i won’t do anything about it.”

you shrugged, a smile teasing the corners of your lips as you watched your boyfriend try to contain his emotions behind the wheel. “yeah, i do, actually. i thought you would’ve gotten better at dealing with this by now… maybe i don’t test you enough, after all.”

he chuckled darkly, kissing his teeth with a raise of his eyebrows. 

“know your limit, y/n. i mean it.”

the drive was silent after that; you, in the passenger seat, proud of your work, and in your own world entirely. jay, on the other hand, was almost pulsing with fury. had he not trained you well enough? surely you knew better than to act like some common whore, in front of his best friends of all people. in all honesty, he’d had more than enough of you walking all over him and thinking you’d get away with no consequences.

the second he had parked the car, you bounced out of your seat, skipping towards the apartment block - seemingly, without a care in the world - but jay knew full well that you were choosing your actions to infuriate him. always a gentleman at heart, he always insisted on opening doors for you and holding your hand when walking across streets or car parks. by taking that away from him, you were just trying to piss him off more. and god knew that he’d had enough of your bullshit.

as soon as the elevator doors had pressed closed, jay had you pinned to the wall by your neck, face so close to yours that his nose was brushing your cheek and his breath was fanning over you. your heart - and, admittedly, your pussy - throbbed at the action. you’d always loved how easily jay could manhandle you, and adding anger to the mix just heightened how good it felt.

“i swear to fucking god, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll listen to me, yeah?” he hissed, other hand coming to grip your hip so tightly that you winced. “when we get in, i’m going to go and get a drink. and when i come back into the bedroom, you better be face down on that mattress, ass up and hands behind your back.”

he released you when the elevator stopped at your floor, and you took the opportunity to get one last dig in at him. 

“and if i don’t?”

he scoffed, leaving you trailing behind him as he walked towards your shared front door and pushed his way into the hallway. “if you don’t.. well, you better prepare to not be allowed anywhere near my cock for at least a week. nor will i touch you, and i know a stupid whore like you would lose their mind over that very quickly, huh?”

you were stunned. jay had joked about putting you on a sex ban a few times throughout your relationship, but only because you were insatiable - never as a punishment. surely, he wouldn’t? god… you didn’t think you wanted to find out if he was serious or not.

by the time you’d shaken yourself out of your trance and into the apartment, jay was already bustling about the kitchen, so you decided it was best to just do as he’d asked of you. you were quick to rid yourself of your sneakers, socks and jumper - leaving you in just a skimpy bralette and your tiny skirt, before crawling onto the bed.

you sat on my knees and waited patiently for jay’s arrival, the tell-tale closing of the cupboard letting you know that he was probably downing a glass of whiskey before dealing with you. your hands fidgeted in their place on your lap, and each second that jay took to come to the bedroom had you going beyond insane.

the door was wedged open so you could see jay coming, and you took a moment to appreciate how fucking good he looked with his hair ruffled and shirt half unbuttoned as he approached the room. however, all it took from him was a single glance in your direction to have you practically throwing yourself across the bed and into the position he wanted.

you knew he was staring at your core, your pussy entirely out on display and you had to fight back the urge to shake your hips, enticing him to come closer. no, that would just rile him up more, and you didn’t know if you could cope with an even bigger punishment than the one you had coming.

a shuffling noise came from behind you, and you felt the mattress dip as jay came to kneel behind you, hands coming to knead at the flesh of your ass.

“oh, so you wanna listen now, hmm?”

words failed out, only a garble of whines leaving your lips as you tried to formulate a response. jay chuckled at you, his hands moving to grip your hips as he ground his bulge against the curve of your ass.

“such a one-minded bitch, aren’t you? would do anything just to have me fucking ruin you like the common whore you are. all you think about is cock, surely i satisfy you better than that?”

you knew better than to bite back at his words, fully aware he was just trying to get you to slip up and have a reason to punish you more. you both were insatiable when it came to one another, and sharing a lot of… well, less than vanilla kinks, made times like this more interesting.

and honestly, jay’s heart swelled at the way you stayed quiet, allowing him to grip your wrists against the base of your spine, the feeling of your ass against him more heavenly than anything you could find in a church. he knew you were his good girl at heart, sometimes you just needed to be reminded of that. and he was more than willing to put you in your place when needed.

“such a pretty little thing, hmm? just needed sir’s attention to calm you down. like a little puppy, aren’t you?”

you whined at his words, your brain quickly turning to mush at the hot blaze his hands left on your skin.

before you could comprehend his actions, jay had pulled away to rid himself of his clothes, and the next thing you felt was his bare cock brushing against your folds.  his tip nudged against your clit and you couldn’t help the way you shivered, hips rolling back against him.

“god, you’re sopping, baby. needed me that bad? how mean of me to keep you waiting like this..” he tsked, causing you to shake your head with a wail.

“not mean– never mean! so good to me, sir, need you so bad.”

you knew he grinned at that, but he indulged you anyway, pushing his tip past your walls and reveling in the way you keened at the sensation.

“gonna fuck you good, princess, i promise. make you forget why you felt the need to act like a brat.”

(a/n: scheduled post!)

-> don’t forget to reblog or comment if you like my works ♡ please refrain from modifying, translating, or copying my work. - © mixtape-racha

tags ✮⋆˙ : @pretty-racha @demetrisscarf @fluerz @bangtancultsposts @yevene

#mixtape-racha #mixtape-racha fic #143 i luv queue ✮⋆˙ #enhypen fic #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay enhypen #jay x reader #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen jay smut #enhypen hard hours #park jongseong smut #aria: jay fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹ #aria: enha fics 🎧✮₊˚⊹

[bimobuddy]

Wings

I'm back :]

SFW Hazbin tk fic

Lee!Lucifer, lers: basically everyone else

CW: God is a character in this, however I'll try not to refer to him by name, in case that makes anyone uncomfortable. Also Swearing.

The God I have in mind is similar to (but not exactly) that fan-design with the four floating eyes, look it up, it's great. I am making my own design of him though that I might post if y'all want me to. He's a total dad in this btw, I wanted something fluffy and comforting.

Summary: it's just various moments throughout Lucifer's life when he's had his wings tickled

"Lucifer, darling- Hold still! .. Shi- Darn."

He sighed, watching his youngest son half-fly-half-scramble away. Sure he was -The- Father, but he was still -A- father. And right now he was trying to catch one of his most difficult children to preen his wings. Luckily, Lucifer couldn't get very far with his wings still being small and mostly soft downy feathers. And being a very predictable child, his father knew exactly where he was going.

The deity left the palace and headed out toward the garden. It was still a work in progress, not quite ready for earth yet, so while he worked on it, he kept it in Heaven for his children to play in. Lucifer loved it, especially for a certain animal he had recently been allowed to create.

And sure enough, the youngest angel was by the pond, laying on his tummy, gleefully watching the ducks. His father shook his head in amusement. "Lucifer-" He started, but before he could finish, the child squeaked and jumped up, trying to run again. However his father was quicker, easily approaching him in just two steps and scooping him up.

"I believe we were in the middle of something, son?" He said, shifting his hold on Lucifer to carry him in one arm. The young angel pouted. "No thank you." He said, earning a laugh from his father. "I know it tickles, but it needs to be done. You're growing out of your baby-feathers, and soon you'll have big-kid feathers growing in, and you want them growing in neatly right?"

Lucifer frowned, as if really thinking about it. Finally he nodded. "Yes." His father nodded in return, "Good. Let's get started then." He took a moment to sit down in the grass, knowing his son would just run off again when they were done.

As he started to gently run his fingers through his son's wings, he winced a little when a shrill squeal rang out. How can something so small and sweet make such an aggressively loud noise? He couldn't help but chuckle as Lucifer frantically flapped all six of his little wings, trying to get away, giggling his heart out.

Soon enough, they were done. The second the deity pulled his hands up and released his son, Lucifer was off, running back to the pond, where a couple of his brothers were. The father thought it was sweet until Lucifer tackled one of them for getting to close to 'his' ducks.

He sighed and went to separate them. "Kids will be kids, I suppose."

- - -

Lucifer flew through the clouds as if his life depended on it. "Come back here, Luci-Loo!" Came the voice of his older brother, Michael.

The teenager took a sudden, sharp dive toward the lake, hoping to lose his brothers. Yet again, it was preening season. Their father had since given up on Lucifer the moment he really learned how to fly, and left that job to his older brothers, who were better at keeping up with him.

As he approached the ground, he angled his wings to pull up at the last second. By the sound of a loud splash, followed by the voice of Uriel yelling after him, he knew his trick had worked, even if just on one brother. He glanced behind him to see both Michael and Gabriel still hot on his trail.

What he was not expecting, however, was to almost crash into his eldest brother, Raphael. He flapped his right wings to turn, but due to his speed, he just narrowly avoided his brother and crashed into the ground.

Raphael sighed, "Seriously, Lucifer? You're 116 and still running from preening? Honestly, you're acting like a fledgling, just sit still for it."

Lucifer was about to argue, only to be very violently tackled at high speed by his immediate older brother, Gabriel, so hard it left a dent in the grass from where they skidded. Michael landed next to them. "Nice going, Gabe, now his wings are even dirtier." He said, though his face clearly showed amusement.

The two youngest brothers wrestled on the ground for a bit, Lucifer desperately trying to get away while grinning in anticipation, and Gabriel trying to pin him face-down so his wings were accessible.

Raphael crossed his arms, though a slight hint of amusement played on his own face. "Lucifer, is it really that bad?" "YES! MICHAEL'S MEAN ABOUT IT!" The eldest turned to Michael, grinning a little. "Are you mean about it?" "Maybe just a little. I learned from Azrael after all." He said, elbowing Raphael before sitting on the back of Lucifer's legs.

Gabriel had Lucifer face-down, sitting in front of him while he held his arms down, knowing the youngest was a fighter. Producing a comb, Michael got started, using his left hand to hold a single wing down while his right ran the comb through Lucifer's feathers.

Immediately, his other five wings started to flap rapidly, a couple even hitting Michael square in the face by accident. The poor angel was squeaking in a poor effort to not laugh.

Raphael rolled his eyes and decided to help. He sat down and pushed all sets of wings down, holding them in place. "Alright, Michael, hurry up, you know the longer this goes on, the harder he's going to come after us, when this is over."

Knowing this was true, Michael got started, running the comb through his feathers once again. Lucifer snorted and practically exploded with loud, bubbly laughter. "NAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! FFF-" "Don't curse," Raphael warned. "I WAHASN'T GOHOING TO!"

"Liar." Gabriel grinned, holding his wrists down with one hand, using the other to gently scritch at his ribs, causing Lucifer to screech and bury his face into the ground. Raphael gave his brother a look. "Don't overwhelm him, Gabriel, his wings are bad enough already. You know he's had trouble breathing in the past with you two taking it too far."

Gabriel stopped, looking back at Michael. "I would have stayed in my room if I knew Raph was going to take us on a guilt-trip." He grumbled, earning a laugh from Michael.

Once they had gotten his wings fully preened and combed out, all three sat back and let him up. Lucifer lay there panting, still giggling occasionally. Raphael reached out to pat him on the head, as he usually did with his brothers after a preening, only to be stopped when Lucifer suddenly sat up.

"You all have five minutes to run and hide."

Alarmed, all three took off.

- - -

Lucifer lay there, in the arms of his wife, solemnly looking up at the pentagram sky that separated him from all he had ever known. Lilith could only imagine how hard it was for him to be cast out and separated from his family and childhood home. She hadn't had a family or a childhood to miss. But as far as she was concerned, Lucifer was her family now, and she hated seeing him in so much emotional pain.

She ran a comforting hand down his back, between his wings, only to be startled as he sharply inhaled and flinched. She pulled her hand away quickly, "I'm sorry, are you hurt?" She asked, easily lifting him under the arms to look at him (which really flustered the short angel.)

"No, no, darling, I'm not hurt, it just.. it tickled." He said. As Lilith set him back down in her lap, he blushed and looked down. "You can...." He looked back up at her, "You can keep going... If you want to, that is.. My brothers used to do it.. I guess it's comforting in a way."

Lilith smiled softly, running her hand through his hair, loving the way he leaned into it. "Alright, my love." She whispered, gentle hands returning to his wings. Lucifer laid back down in her lap, arms around her waist, as his wings twitched and lightly fluttered, giggles flowing from him like music.

Maybe eternity like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

- - -

That morning in the Hotel had been complete chaos. It started with Charlie chasing Vaggie around, having discovered her wings were ticklish. The girls continued to play for nearly an hour before Charlie finally got her girlfriend tapping out.

The princess easily scooped up her angel and kissed her cheek, while said angel was practically pouting. "It's not fair, I'm a soldier, I'm not supposed to have such a weakness. Imagine if someone outside the hotel found out-" Vaggie didn't get very far before Charlie set her down. "Oh come on, it's okay that you have tickwy wittle wings~" She teased, causing her girlfriend to blush.

"Besides, the Devil himself is way worse, watch." She grinned, looking over at a very startled Lucifer who had apparently overheard everything. As Charlie ran at him, he spread his wings and flew upward to jump over her. The more his daughter chased after him, the more he turned it into a game, because of course he would.

Everytime Charlie got close, Lucifer would laugh and leap out of the way, even jumping off the walls to keep out of reach. "You're gonna have to try harder than thAAT!?" He yelped, feeling something wrap around his ankle and yank him to the floor. When he got a good look at it, he saw it was one of Alastor's shadows.

"Oh come on, you fucking-" "Oh, I do apologize, your highness, but I can't have you getting your disgusting shoe prints on my walls." Alastor grinned, clearly enjoying the scene before him.

Lucifer was about to snap back, but was cut off by Charlie sitting on top of him, immediately burying her fingers into his wings, causing the devil to shriek, a couple of his wings beating the floor. He had forgotten how ruthless his daughter was.

"C-CHAHAHAHARILIE!"

"See, Vaggie, even the king of Hell has ticklish wings, it's completely fine that you do too." Charlie said casually, as if she weren't absolutely wrecking said king.

Lucifer's laughter shot up an octive as he felt those damned shadow tendrils burying themselves under his feathers under all six wings. He started kicking his feet against the floor and trying to push Charlie's evil hands away.

"FAHAHAHAHACK! FUHUCK OFF, BAMB- NOHOHOHO WAITWAITWAHAIT!" Lucifer squealed like a child as he felt another shadow emerge underneath him, swiping at his spine. right between his shoulder blades. All six wings furiously beat at the floor in an attempt to get those tendrils away from him, but it didn't work.

Charlie grinned, gently scritching right into the 'wing pits' of his middle set of wings, having been told by her mother that it kills him. And sure enough, the king practically screamed. His legs stopped kicking and his wings stopped beating as he could only lay there and take it, laughing loudly.

It wasn't until his face got red that she stopped. And it wasn't until Charlie stopped that Alastor did as well. He personally would have kept going, but he figured Charlie would have his head if he pushed her father any further.

Lucifer panted heavily, unable to stop himself from giggling, a little loopy from it all. He looked up at Charlie. "G-Grohounded." Charlie grinned, "You can't ground me, I'm an adult." Lucifer shook his head, "Nuh-uh."

She got off of him and helped him up. Alastor came over and 'innocently' placed a hand on Lucifer's back as a 'friendly gesture,' resulting in the angel snapping his wings shut and de-summoning them.

And being one for revenge, Lucifer lunged at the radio demon, starting the cat-and-mouse game all over again.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!lucifer

[kangaracha]

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 10

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

The studio is silent when you enter, the door clicking softly shut behind you. Neither of its occupants stir, even though Chan had just called out for you to come in when you'd knocked; he's staring at his computer screen now, fingers hovering over a keyboard as he listens. Han is on the other side of the room, fast asleep on the sofa with him mouth hanging half-open. 

A coffee cup sits in the ground next to him and his phone dangles from relaxed fingers, dangerously close to falling. You lean over and grab it just as it starts to slide from his grasp; Han doesn't stir, not even when your shadow falls over his face. You catch a glimpse of his phone screen before your thumb locks it, long lines of lyrics set out in a basic notes app, the top bar lined with notifications; you put it down hurriedly on the armrest of the sofa, not wanting to pry.

When you look up, Chan is watching you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Hi," you say, turning your back on Han. Your hands are awkward after touching his phone - you fold them in front of you, one hand twisting at the fingers of the other.

"Hi," he replies softly, and smiles - something that's meant to be encouraging, you think, but this is so far out of your normal routine that you don't think there's anything that would let you just relax, rather than standing here awkwardly in the middle of the room with nothing else around to draw his attention.

"There's another chair over there," he says, pointing to the corner behind you. "Come and listen to this."

A clear goal. An easy one to achieve too - the breath rushes from your chest as you drag the chair over to his desk, some of the tension in your limbs draining out with it. You sigh again as you sit down, this time as your tired body presses back into the seat and finally finds relief - you've been engrossed in practise all day, sliding right past lunch and nearly dinner too, barely stopping for a break. Not that you'd meant to, you knew better than that, but when you'd felt like you were actually getting somewhere-

"You look tired," Chan comments as he hands you a set of headphones, one hand idly untangling the wire as it stretches out to you. His voice is decidedly neutral, his tongue lazy as it lets the English syllables slide past one by one. He talks to you in English almost all the time recently, you've noticed; ever since the album released, or maybe a little before. Not that you mind. English is...comfortable, in a way that Korean sometimes isn't. It's always been easier for you to be Australian.

"Practise was good today, though," you reply. "I feel like I might actually be able to dance in the group without sticking out now."

"You've been doing that for a while," Chan says, bemused. "Lee Know didn't have anything to say at all the other day."

You can't help the derisive snort that escapes your mouth, swallowing the acerbic laugh that tries to follow it before you can make even more of a fool of yourself. It's so rude; maybe you are tired. You certainly aren't as careful as you usually are, even though you know that can preclude trouble. "I don't think he's being as hard now that I'm not debuting in two weeks," you blurt out, and then drop your eyes down to the headphones in your hands. 

"That doesn't mean he's lying," Chan insists. His hand pats your knee - just a brush of his fingers, there and there and gone again. "You don't really need all this practise anymore, you know."

A shrug works its way up to your shoulders, though it feels more like a defensive hunch than anything else. "I'd rather practise than waste my time sitting around," you answer, and at least the words are strong, even if your body is not. "Especially when there's still a chance I could end up sitting around in Australia by the end of the year."

Something flashes across Chan's face, twisting at the edges of his mouth for just a moment before disappearing - disappointment, or frustration? It twists at your gut twice as hard, whatever it is, upsetting the delicate balance you'd found for just a moment while sitting here. "Do you want to listen to this song?" he asks, changing the subject before you can say anything to defend yourself. "We recorded it roughly, but I need a real version of it, and I think you'll like it..."

His voice trails off as he turns to the computer, pulling up whatever he's been working on. You take that as a sign to pull the headphones over your ears, offsetting one side slightly so that you can still hear him. Music fills your ears - a slow, roundabout beat and a heavy bass, overstrung by lyrics about bravery and fear and the darkness of being alone. Beautiful, in a way you're not sure how to express, and artistic, winding its way into your chest where you won't easily forget it.

You really like this song, so much that you're almost afraid to admit it; because if you did, you'd have to admit too, how its spiralling beat brushes against that dark spiral of anxiety that always lives in your chest, and the cold memories that the words stir up-

"I like that," is all you say when the music ends, one final downbeat cutting through the instruments abruptly.

"Really?" Chan asks, like it's unexpected, or unbelieveable.

"Of course," you insist, headphones sliding down around your neck. "You really want me to sing that?"

"Well, if you're going to spend all of your time working anyway, you might as well do some of our work for us," he says, the tone of his voice and the way his head tilts to point at Han's sleeping form informing you that he is joking. "Listen to it a couple more times, I'll see if Han has the lyrics written down on his phone, and then we'll try it."

"Why wouldn't you be able to sleep?"

Chan's voice startles you, loud after a long period of silence. You hadn't even seen him turn to look at you, or even stop working to check the messages that are popping up in the group chat, his phone propped loosely between his hand and the table. "What?" you ask, one hand coming up to stifle a yawn as it tugs at your jaw.

Chan glances down at his phone screen as another message pops up, and then back at you. "Earlier, you said you wouldn't be able to sleep if you went home," he says, by way of explanation.

"Oh, right." You'd forgotten about that text. You hadn't really thought about it being something that might raise questions at the time; you'd been more focused on the sudden worry you'd had over him assuming that you were regularly here all day and all night. "My house is just too quiet sometimes, I guess. I'm not really used to living alone."

His head tilts, curiousity flaring in his eyes. "You know, I've never actually asked where you live," he says. "Are you still in the dorms?"

"They gave me an apartment," you answer. "I think we're in the same building, actually. That's what they told me, anyway."

"Really?" His eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise. "And you've never come over for dinner? Changbin hasn't dragged you to the gym? No one's run into you in the hall?"

"Lee Know sat in my living room for like ten minutes once?" you offer weakly, though you know it's not nearly what he's looking for. You've got nothing to offer him - even Minseo hasn't been over in a few weeks, each of you too busy on your own trajectory to cross paths. You'd had lunch in the cafeteria twice, and that was all, far from the silent walls of your empty house and it's too-big rooms.

A smile ghosts across Chan's face, strangled by the constant turn of his thoughts back to the problem he thinks he has identified. "On his way back from the store?" he questions knowingly, and you nod.

"He said no one was home at your place."

"If he went into our house, why did he-" he starts, and then cuts himself off halfway, shaking his head. "You should come over for dinner or something. Watch one of Han's animes. If I'd known you were in the building, I would have invited you ages ago."

Apprehension rises in your chest at the openness of the invitation, the way he's able to simply pick it up and throw it out there without even a moment of hesitation. Not that you should feel dread over something as simple as an invitation to dinner, with a group of people you now see every day anyway...but you've never really seen them outside the studio, and you wouldn't know what to expect even if you sat here and tried to guess. 

And even this, sitting here in the dark talking to Chan, is something you've never done before, the reason why you'd sat here so quiet when you'd first come in; if your body wasn't so tired, if the night wasn't dragging on into morning as you spoke, you don't think you'd have been able to sit so still in this chair at all.

"Maybe," you say, acknowledging the invitation with a dip of your chin. "When there's time. I'm really busy practising for debut right now, and I don't want to miss anything."

You're surprised by the look that passes over his face, the tightening of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. "You spend a lot of time in that studio," he says - and you're not sure what to think about the tone of voice that he uses, switching back and forth between stern and...soft, like he's worried he'll say the wrong thing or something. As if he could do something wrong here, when he is the leader and you are-

Well, nothing. You're nothing. God knows what he sees when he looks at you, other than the trainee he was unwillingly saddled with.

"Yeah," you acknowledge, because there's no use in denying it when you know they know the kind of hours you've been pulling. There being eight of them just means it's impossible to avoid running into one of them at every strange hour of the day. "If these are the last three months I have here, I don't want to waste any of it."

"You said that at the concert," Chan recalls. "You still feel like you're not going to debut?"

The memory sits awkwardly in the air of the room; you shift in your seat, shrugging as lightly as you can pull down the movement of your shoulders, trying to play it off. "Do you still think I'm scared of you too?" you question, trying to play it off easily rather than having the words slide heavy from your tongue.

Amusement dances in his eyes. "Maybe not so much," he answers. "You made a joke earlier."

You frown. "Is that...weird? I make jokes all the time, don't I?"

"Not as often as I'd like," he says, and then his face softens. "It was nice, though. So is this - us, talking."

"Mm," you hum, your mouth closed around several sentences that spring immediately to mind. The instinct to measure everything you say and watch your mouth is burnt into you, caution wrapping its cold little hands around your throat every time you start to relax. And now you don't know what to say, when it feels too pointed to make a joke after he's just pointed it out, and too crass to pull out excuses for why this sort of one-on-one rarely happens - and then silence stretches too thin, and time ticks too far onwards, and you've missed-

"Can I tell you what I think?" Chan says and leans back, his arms reaching towards the ceiling as he stretches.

A breath hitches in your chest, apprehension freezing it still. "Okay," you say, your hands twisting together.

His gaze is steady when it returns to you, his hand still where it comes to lie flat on the surface of his desk. In the background, Han shifts in his sleep, the couch cushions shifting underneath him. "I think you're scared to be one of us," he says, every word carefully measured against some weight you cannot see. "And you're scared to trust us. Maybe just me, specifically."

Your heart leaps into your throat in surprise, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. "I'm not-" you begin, but his hand lifts in the air, stopping you short.

"I don't mean in a bad way," he hurries to add, before you can go on. "I understand why; I wouldn't trust anyone either after what happened to you with Midnight. And I've been there before, you know, so...so I know why, I promise. But...I wish you would let me help you. I really want to help you."

You swallow hard, but the lump in your throat remains, the tears threatening to gather in the corners of your stinging eyes. Your stomach feels like its been turned upside down, your equilibrium shaken and turned around. "I..." you begin, as if you have a response, but nothing follows it, your mind racing to catch up in a conversation you hadn't expected to have and didn't plan for. "I...this is my last chance. If I stop, if I..."

"Hey," Chan says. "I understand, okay? And I'm not going to kick you out, or yell at you, or whatever it is you think a leader does. I like having you around, it's too late for all of that now, okay?"

The joke is light, struggling to lift itself in the oppressive air of the studio, but it makes its way to you anyway, lifting a little of the weight off of your shoulders. "I really like your music," you tell him, and push a deep breath down into the bottom of your lungs. "I want to be one of you, really, and I don't - I don't think you would do that, I swear, I just...I know that it's not always up to you. The company can do what they like, and if they think I don't look like I fit in, or I'm not working as hard as you do, or they just don't like how-"

"You shouldn't worry about that," Chan says over the top of you, his face changing. "That's my job - you leave that to me, and focus on the things your working on."

You look down at your hands, then over at Han - anywhere but his gaze, when you say, "I can't trust them to listen to you. Not until I make it to debut."

Chan falls silent, long enough that your eyes stray back to him, unable to look away for any longer. You find a mess of emotions written across his face, lit by the illumination of his computer screen as he messes with the mouse, his attention far away from the track he's idly playing with. 

"Okay," he says when he's done, forcing his hand to move away from the keyboard. "I meant to talk you out of burning yourself out, but I don't think that's going to work."

"Sorry," you say mutely, and feel your shoulders hunch.

"It's okay," he says, before you can retract into yourself completely. "It's okay to be scared. It is scary. So, let's come to an agreement."

There's an unintended challenge in his voice, a way that his eyes watch you that incentivises you to sit up straighter and swallow down all that cold anxiety that freezes in your veins. "Okay," you say willingly. "Like what?"

You like the silent approval you see in his face, the way his mouth relaxes and starts to untwist from the frown it had turned itself into several minutes ago. "You promise me that you know how to take care of yourself, and you can practise as much as you feel like you need to until debut and we won't stop you," he says, "but after debut, you promise you're going to slow down. And you're going to trust me."

It's funny - you hadn't thought anything but the result at the end of these three months would make you feel better, but somehow, he strings together the exact right words to lift that weight off your chest and shine a light down the tunnel. You hadn't thought anyone would be able to do that. Maybe that's why you'd been locked away in the dance rooms, all alone; maybe he was right that you didn't trust anyone, and that maybe you should start.

"I can do that," you say, nodding in agreement. "And I can take care of myself. I won't debut if I'm injured, or I collapse or something."

"Good," he says, satisfied, and then adds, "And you come over for dinner, whenever we invite you. And you go out with your friends again. One of the girls from Midnight chased me down the other day to ask about you, and honestly I'm kind of scared of ignoring her."

"Minseo," you say and, inexplicably, you smile. "Sorry. She's...an extrovert."

"Two jokes," Chan points out, and then laughs at the look on your face, turning away to shut down his computer. "It was fine. She was cool. You have good taste in friends."

"We've been here together for a long time," you say, your eyes idly tracking the movement of his mouse. You glance at the clock in the corner of his screen just by chance - and then do a double take when you see the number there, squinting as if you've misread it. "Is it four AM?"

"It is, actually," Chan sighs as the screen goes dark, closing the laptop and pushing his chair back towards the couch. "Time to go home, I think. Do you want to walk with us?" 

His hand reaches out to rouse Han, the other reaching for the boy's phone, left abandoned on his desk. His coffee still sits abandoned on the ground, long gone cold since that first conversation in the group chat that had led to all of this. Funny, how that one little thing, left forgotten on the floor, had led to a night you wouldn't soon forget. 

"I'd love to," you reply, and reach for the coffee before anyone can knock it over, throwing it in the trash. 

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002 @hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff @splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit @jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @slutfortits @duhgurl @cheshireshiya @worcesheshestershiresauce @defnotfertilizedtoesw

#stray kids #stray kids smau #skz smau #bang chan #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee minho #lee know #han jisung #skz han #seo changbin #changbin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #kim seungmin #seungmin #I.N #yang jeongin #felix #yongbok #lee felix #roo writes #queenmaker

[ispelexists]

SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'

"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"

The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.

(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)

This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3

🎭

The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH

English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these

Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:

💙 1. 💙

🎭) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.

He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.

🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.

🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)

🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)

💙 2. 💙

🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.

🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')

🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him

🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)

💙 3. 💙

🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.

🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):

a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry

(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))

anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.

b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.

🎭

The art without the text 😘

#shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie #shadowmilkcookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk fanart #crk kingdom #crk art #crk fanart #cr kingdom #crk #art #cookie run kingdom #beast yeast #cookierun #cookie run

[forestshadow-wolf]

It's raining, ghost idly notes. Technically he should be focusing on the field briefing that they're getting, but they'd already gooten one when assigned, one before they left base, and one on the plane ride here. So really, they're just talking in cirlces now.

Price is at the front of the table explaining the plan, which they have to wait four hours to even begin acting on, standing next to the open laptop showing all the documents they need.

Gaz is trying very poorly to act like he's listening. Poorly because he's been flicking wadded up pieces of paper at price (who is ignoring it pretty well)

Ghost usually doesn't sit during briefings, he gets distracted, so he takes up a spot by the wall.

But soap, uncharacteristically is also leaning up against the wall next to him. Usually he playing footsies.with gaz across the table, but not today.

Price is still droning on about the mission blah blah blah, ok well not blah blah blah but it's nothing he hasn't already memorized.

He watches soap squeeze tightly at his knee again, for the third time in the last 20 minutes, as far as he cam reach without making it obvious. Ghost also notes that he's stiffer than usual.

He leans into soap's space just a bit, "you 'kay?" He whispers. Soap nods almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah, why?" He hisses.

"It's just... you know you can sit down right?" He says, gesturing slightly to the 3 open chairs at the table. One of which would normally be occupied by a certain scot anyway.

"Yea- I knoe tha', I chose to stand for a reason."

"Well- I was jus' sayin', ya look uncomfortable, s' all."

"I am, tha's why I'm standing."

"Yeah, 'cus that makes sense-"

"Are you two done arguing yet?" Price cuts in. Soap looks just as chastised as Ghost feels, which... is really only enough to fake it.

"Yes, sir." They both respond, and peice goes back to his rambling.

The meeting ends soon enough, and they're finally released to get ready or whatever they need to do.

"You sure you’re okay, johnny?" Ghost catches a stiff legged soap just before he leaves.

"Aye, s' rain s'all" Ghost isn't really sure what that has to do with anything, and he says as much. "I fucked up my knee a few years ago, it's fine now, the rain just makes it act up a little. Something Something low pressure atmosphere, basic science, I think."

"Okay, well you know you could sit down. Would probably help." Ghost suggests... again

"Yeah and I'll not stand up again, not with this wanker" soap snorts at him, referring to his knee. Ghost frowns.

"Well... anything I can do to help?", soap shifts from one foot to the other.

"Not unless you got me some new knees. It's fine, Ghost, I'm still mission ready if that's what you're worried about. I actually had to redo the fitness tests once I healed up just to make sure I could still do my job."

"..."

"What?" Soap shifts hsi weight again

"... that's really.. not what I was asking about."

"Aye, well- what do you brits say- 'cheers, mate' I'm fine. Swear it."

"And that's why you're limping around?" Sure, maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but it's not technically inaccurate.

"I'm no' 'limping' around, and even if I was it's hardly noticeable. Why do you even care so much, it's no' you're problem." Soap sasses back.

"Well, I'd like to help if I can-"

"How? You gonna shout it outta me? There ain't shite you can do for it. Just leave it be, aye?"

"... fine, but I can help if you let me."

"Aye, I'll keep that in mind, thanks." And then he was walking away, off to do whatever he need to do before their mission.

Ghost makes a note to himself to ask about it again after they're back on base.

#john soap mactavish #soap's bad knee #knee problems #weather induced knee problems #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #el rambles

[yeoosaangg]

Love Me Harder || Kinktober - Day 30

pairing ▸ choi yeonjun × choi beomgyu × f!reader

now playing ▸ love me harder - ariana grande, the weeknd

⤷ ❝if you know about me and choose to stay, then take this pleasure and take it with the pain.❞

genre ▸ non-idol au, smut

warnings ▸ bondage, daddy kink, voyeurism, spanking, free use, throat fucking, gagging, praise, fingering, breeding, dumbification

--------

You are a young reporter that was assigned to do a story on bondage and BDSM, so you've agreed to be a bondage slave for a week to see what it's really like.

So far, you've read and signed three different contracts: one for consent, another for safety, and a third listing different kinks that you've modified to your liking.

Yeonjun: Before we start, I have some things to go over with you.

Beomgyu: Me too.

You smile at both men, thinking they look great together. There's so much love between them, it makes you wonder why they accepted the offer.

Yeonjun: I'll be giving you a rundown of the seven days you'll be living here and what to expect to avoid accidentally triggering you.

That's very considerate of him.

Beomgyu: But before that, I wanted you to know that it's been a while since I've let my dominant side take over. I may take it too far, so I want to let you know in advance that using the safety cues we've established is very much encouraged.

You nod slowly, registering the information in your head. You can tell he's genuine and truly does not want to scare or hurt you at all.

Beomgyu: I've been with Yeonjun for a long time, but he's a true dom while I'm a switch. It's difficult to navigate around it because there are days where I'm feeling particularly dominant myself but have no way to release it.

Yeonjun: It's true. Those days it's hard to figure out if he's just resisting to be a bratty sub or if he's just not feeling particularly submissive.

Beomgyu: Those days I have to call out the safe word so he knows not to push me. So when we saw your advertisement online, we thought it'd be a step in figuring out if a polyamorous relationship is what's needed.

That's a lot to take in, but it at least gives you insight to why they accepted this arrangement.

You hope one day they'll be able to establish a system that coincides with their needs. This makes good coverage for your article as well.

Yeonjun: Monday will be your trial run. You'll get to sit back and watch how Beomgyu and I navigate our relationship with each other. This is the only day we won't be sexual with you.

Sounds fair.

Yeonjun: The two days following, you'll be splitting chores and wearing matching clothes with Beomgyu. This is when I get to play with both of you sexually. But it'll start off lightly as to not push your limits.

You nod.

You read the contracts and it was clear they did, too. You trust them to treat you well.

Beomgyu: The following three days, you'll be my personal human fuckdoll. I get to dress you, feed you, and bathe you - basically take care of you as I wish whether it's sexual or not. Yeonjun will not be joining us until the very last day.

Wow, okay.

The room was suddenly getting hot.

Yeonjun: And for your last day, we'll both be fucking you. You will be ours to use however we see fit. This will possibly be the most extreme we'll be, so make sure to remember you have options to opt out.

Y/n: I understand.

Yeonjun: Great. We've already got your room situated. It's late, so we'll let you get some sleep.

Y/n: Thank you.

You stand up and bow before heading upstairs to the guest room. Your name was written on a white board, which hangs off a hook.

You have to remind yourself that this is for your job, nothing more.

Monday:

Beomgyu knocks on your door at 7AM on the dot. You were already showered and dressed in the clothes labeled for the day.

They definitely prepared everything in advance, which must've taken a lot of work.

Beomgyu: Good morning, Miss Y/n.

He giggles as he shows off his pink dress.

He had his hair in pigtails with pick ribbon wrapped around the band.

He looks adorable.

Y/n: You look pretty, Beomgyu.

Beomgyu: Thank you, Miss Y/n. And please, call me Beomie.

You nod while smiling.

Y/n: Well, Beomie, let's go eat breakfast.

He intertwines your hands together and walks with you down the stairs.

You both are greeted with the smell of pancakes and a shirtless Yeonjun. He was wearing grey sweats and an apron.

Yeonjun: Good morning, Y/n. I see my princess has grown attached to you already.

Beomgyu: Miss Y/n called me pretty.

Yeonjun: And she's right. Come give Daddy a kiss.

Beomgyu skips to his boyfriend and gives him a deep kiss, bodies pressed up against each other.

Yeonjun: Sit down with Y/n so she's not lonely.

Breakfast was comfortable to say the least. They included you in the conversation and kept you entertained until Yeonjun inevitably left for work.

You spent the next few hours watching Beomgyu clean the house and do the laundry. He did everything with a smile on his face, almost like he enjoyed being a housewife.

Beomgyu: Miss Y/n, would you like to watch some movies with me?

Y/n: Of course I would.

He let you choose what to watch and loved every single one.

He got a few texts from Yeonjun, mostly to check up on him.

Beomgyu thought it'd be fun to rile him up, so he asked you to take pictures of him in very provocative poses to send.

And Yeonjun's response got Beomgyu all hot and horny.

He was advised not to touch himself, but that only made the younger want to do it even more. And now that you're here, maybe he won't get as bad of a punishment.

So he spreads his legs open, holding his panties to the side as he works himself open. You only watched and filmed him, sending the videos when he asks.

So when nighttime comes and Yeonjun gets back home, he's got his boyfriend bent over the couch with his cock deep inside him.

This was after a series of intense belt whoopings.

Yeonjun: Such a fucking brat. Think Y/n's gonna stop me from fucking you stupid? Of course not.

You just watch them from the other end of the couch. Beomgyu was bent over the arm rest, dress still on as he gets drilled from behind.

Yeonjun didn't even strip down, work pants open enough for his cock to spring free.

You can see drool falling out of Beomgyu's mouth as Yeonjun slams his hips harder against his ass.

Yeonjun: Look at you, a whimpering mess for my cock. You like the idea of being watched by Y/n, don't you.

Beomgyu nods, looking up at you. This only make his back arch more. Yeonjun's cock hits his prostate, making the younger scream.

Yeonjun: Gonna cum for me, princess?

Beomgyu: Yes, Daddy.

Yeonjun chuckles and reaches around to pump his boyfriend's aching cock until he dirties the couch. He cums deep inside Beomgyu not too long after.

Beomgyu: I love you, Daddy.

Yeonjun: I know, baby. Sorry if I was too rough on you.

Beomgyu: S'Okay. I love when you fuck me like a slut.

They both clean each other up, getting ready for bed. You dismiss yourself and spend the rest of the night masturbating.

All of that riled you up more than you thought possible. You can't wait for what tomorrow will bring.

Tuesday:

Beomgyu once again knocks on your door right on the dot. But this time, both of you were wearing matching blue dresses with blue ribbons in your hair.

Beomgyu: You look pretty, Y/n.

You giggle and give him a spin. A fond smile pulls at his lips.

Y/n: Thank you, Beomie.

Beomgyu once again holds your hand as you walk down the stairs to the kitchen. Yeonjun greets both of you with a kiss on the forehead.

Yeonjun: Good morning, my little doves. I'll be working from home today.

Beomgyu: Really?!

Yeonjun: Yes, my precious baby. That means I get to be with you two all day.

Y/n: Sounds wonderful, Mr. Yeonjun.

You guys sit down and eat the eggs and sausage he's prepared. After finishing, you and Beomgyu wash the dishes; he rinses and you dry.

Halfway through, you feel Yeonjun press up against you from behind. His cock was out, rubbing in between your thighs.

Yeonjun: Look at you, being a good girl and washing the dishes.

Beomgyu giggles next to you. He can see you getting shy and needy.

Yeonjun bends you over the sink just enough so you can still dry the dishes. He pulls your panties to the side so his cock slides up and down your folds.

He slaps your ass, watching it bounce back.

Yeonjun: Want me to fuck you, darling?

You grab the plate from Beomgyu's hands and try your best to dry it. But you just feel so good.

Y/n: Yes, Mr. Yeonjun.

And who is he to deny you?

Yeonjun: Princess, why don't you stop for a second to kiss my darling? I bet you want to drink up all her moans as Daddy pounds into her cunt.

Beomgyu dries his hands before pressing his chest into your side. He pulls your face closer to him and kisses you at the same time Yeonjun shoves his cock inside you.

You moan into Beomgyu's mouth, his tongue exploring every inch of your warm mouth.

Yeonjun pulls your dress underneath your braless tits, squeezing them. He lightly smacks your nipples, moaning against your ear.

Yeonjun: Play with her pussy, baby.

Beomgyu's right hand travels down to your clit, swallowing a whine that slipped out from the back of your throat. The stimulation from both men was sending you over the edge.

Yeonjun: I think she wants to cum, princess. Let me hear her beg.

Beomgyu steps back from you, hand still rubbing your pussy.

Y/n: Can I please cum, Mr. Yeonjun. Feels so good.

Yeonjun: What do you think, Beoms? Does Y/n deserve to cum yet?

Beomgyu: She does, Daddy. She's been good.

Yeonjun: You're right, baby, she has. Go ahead, darling. Cum all over my big dick.

Beomgyu presses his finger against your clit to help you cum while Yeonjun rams his cock along your gummy walls. The knot in your stomach undoes itself, leaking around the thick cock inside you.

Yeonjun pulls out of you and has you fall to your knees in front of him. He pumps his cock a few times before cumming on your tongue.

Yeonjun: Swallow it.

You gulp down everything, showing him a clean mouth.

Yeonjun: Good girl.

You get up and get back to doing the dishes.

Beomgyu easily continues his task while Yeonjun fucks him. This must be a regular occurrence on the days Yeonjun stays home.

Beomgyu walks around with Yeonjun's cum leaking down his legs as you both split the chores. You're on laundry duty while Beomgyu cleans the bathroom.

Yeonjun sits in his office doing paperwork for his company. He honestly doesn't have to be there all the time given that he's the CEO.

Both you and Beomgyu come together to make Yeonjun lunch.

He has you two ride him when the stress gets to him. You both cum on him, leaving him a gasping mess. He still has to finish work, but he wants more of you two.

Yeonjun: Princess, please help Y/n into some rope. I'll meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes. You two better be on your knees when I get down there.

Beomgyu: Yes, Daddy.

Beomgyu grabs your hand and leads you down to their basement.

Y/n: What's downstairs?

Beomgyu: Daddy's Red Room. He built it himself.

You tilt your head, following behind him until your socked feet land on soft material. He switches the light on and the sight shocks you.

It was a BDSM sex dungeon with all sorts of thing.

Beomgyu: What color of rope would you like?

You look at the four options in his hands and decide to keep the theme of the day: blue.

He takes both of your clothes off, his touch lingering on your body as he takes in your fully naked body for the first time.

He can't wait until his turn with you.

He starts wrapping the rope around your body. He obviously knows how to make sure it's tight enough to stay on your body, but loose enough to not cut your blood circulation.

Beomgyu: You look beautiful, Y/n.

You smile shyly, looking away slightly.

He helps you onto the very comfortable bed, sitting you on your knees. You watch him tie some rope around himself, kneeling right next to you.

Yeonjun's footsteps eventually echo down the stairs until he makes it to the bottom.

He takes in the sight of you two pliantly waiting for him. You walks over and pulls Beomgyu into his chest by the ropes.

Yeonjun: Suck my cock.

His boyfriend kneels down, immediately taking his cock and deep throating him.

Yeonjun: Come here, darling.

You walk over to him and gasp when he bends you over Beomgyu's head. His fingers work you open, knuckles deep inside your swollen pussy.

Yeonjun reaches down with the other hand and pushes Beomgyu's head all the way down, tip hitting the back of his throat. You can hear him gag while you squirt on Yeonjun's fingers.

Y/n: Feels so food, Mr. Yeonjun.

He smacks your ass twice before making you stand properly. He cums down Beomgyu's throat, pulling him up by his throat.

Yeonjun: Both of you get on the bed, on all fours.

You two immediately do as he says, backs arched for him to see your holes.

He grabs two different hooks, and brings them down to both of you.

Yeonjun: This might be uncomfortable. Feel free to say the safe word if it's a no-go.

It was an anal hook.

He covers your hole in lube, using his fingers to work you open. He doesn't stop until you're gaping.

Beomgyu watches as his boyfriend slowly inserts the hook, your hole closing in around the end.

Yeonjun: God, that's so beautiful.

Beomgyu: So perfect.

You whine at the new feeling. Yeonjun presses a button, the chain rattling as it suspends your lower half in the air. You let out whimpers of pain, worrying both men.

Beomgyu: Are you okay? Should we take it off?

You shake your head, biting your bottom lip.

Y/n: Feels good.

Yeonjun massages your ass to soothe your aching pain.

He suspends Beomgyu by the ropes, ass hanging in the air. He reaches over to hold your hand.

To keep you grounded!

Because he saw the glazed look in your eyes.

At least that's what he told himself.

Yeonjun takes turns in fucking both of you to exhaustion, watching slump down while he fucks you two dumb.

Yeonjun: Should I breed the new pet, princess? Watch my cum spill out of her hole then fuck it back into her womb? Or should I spill it into your greedy asshole?

Beomgyu whines, Yeonjun's cock repeatedly hitting his prostate.

Beomgyu: Breed the angel.

Yeonjun: You like the idea of me fucking my babies into someone else?

Beomgyu: Yes, Daddy.

Yeonjun: Then cum for me so I can fill her pussy with my seed.

Beomgyu tiredly reaches for his own cock and uses Yeonjun's thrusts to spill his cum all over the satin sheets. He just slumps, Yeonjun unhooking him.

You scream when he suddenly slams his cock into you. His balls hit your clit, hips stuttering when he feels you squeeze around him.

Yeonjun: Can't even make sounds anymore, too far gone to even move. But your cunt is still hungry for my cock, darling. Why don't you cum for me, hm?

It was an automatic response, pussy squirting on his big and veiny cock. He spills inside you, fucking it as deep as he could.

You don't even register when he frees you from the hook, cleaning both you and Beomgyu up with a towel.

He carries you both upstairs to the main bathroom where the tub was big enough for both of you.

Beomgyu was coherent enough to help wash you up, but you were out of it. Everything felt fuzzy and tingles ran up your arms.

Your entire body hurts, but mostly your lower half. If you're already this far gone, how the hell were you going to survive the rest of the week?

---

a/n: decided to make this a two parter since i'm sleep deprived. it'll be out in november! thanks for reading ‹𝟹

#kinktober #kpop kinktober #kpop smut #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt yeonjun #txt yeonjun smut #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt au #txt smut #txt drabbles #txt beomgyu #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun smut #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu smut #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #beomgyu #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x female reader #yeonjun choi #beomgyu choi #beomjun

[skzhua]

Hi! Sorry to bother again lol. I’m the Han obsessed girl lol. At it again with another request story cause my mind spirals but anyways I was thinking a forbidden love and sorta enemies to lovers so basically Han really wants to be with y/n but can’t cause of there differences and family issues etc and y/n pushes Han away cause she knows she likes him and all and basically angst and some fluff at the end? If that makes sense! - Sorry for the long request anyways Luv your work <3 (That’s why I keep coming back lol)

He's Not What He Seems to Be

MASTERLIST

Pairing: New CEO!Han Jisung x Rival!Female Reader, brief Lee Felix x Reader.

Genre: CEO!AU, forbidden love!AU, rivals-to-lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn.

Word Count: 19,435

Warnings: Swearing, insults, drinking, suggestive, mentions of sex but nothing too explicit, one mention of cheating. (proofread-ish)

A/N: I've been wanting to do a forbidden love kind of thing for a while, thank you! This is basically what I was already working on, but I changed it a bit so it could work for your request.

A/N 2: My longest fic so far! I love this story so much and put so much into it! I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did when writing it.

one. - now -

"Has Miss L/N signed the papers yet?" the man asked your father, as if you weren't in the room already.

"She has not yet. We are to discuss our agreement before we commit to anything." your father answered politely.

"I see." the man, also known as Mr. Bang, breathed out. "I expect an answer until tomorrow night. We have our big announcement ceremony. I will be delighted to know you there."

Your father nodded politely before leaving the room while you stayed behind. As the door closed, you sent a glare to Mr. Bang. Upon seeing your reaction, he lets out a laugh.

"Chan, stop it." you rolled your eyes.

"Please, your father is so serious." he kept on laughing.

"If only he saw how you are out of office..." you mumbled in exasperation. "I think you becoming a CEO has only worsen your IQ."

He huffed in response. "Your company is nothing without mine, watch how you talk to me."

"Bruh..."

"Y/N, this is serious business!" he exclaimed.

"I know that, but I also know you are, first and foremost, my best friend. Plus, how did you talk about me just now? As if I'm some puppet who only gets to sign stupid papers."

He shook his head as he turned on his computer. "I was only joking."

"Yeah, well, my father didn't get that." you scoffed.

You went around his desk and leaned forward to see the statistics marked on his screen. You frowned when one number caught your attention. The Han technologies had risen significantly.

"I thought you said our new line of intelligent watches helped us beat the Han company." you commented.

"It did. For like a week." he sighed. "Your company is not doing so good, let me tell you."

The Bang family was a renowned one in the industry. Their ideas were always original and fresh, the public loved it. The Han were more traditional, but they managed to keep a great image since they kept on releasing new stuff all the time. Plus, their promoting team was a hard one to beat. And then, there was the L/N. You used to lead the technology brands with the Bang. However, with time, your ideas were not as impressive as they used to be. The Han family sued you for plagiarism a few years ago and this was a huge step back for your improvement. Luckily, Chan had recently taken his father's place as the CEO of Bang inc. and agreed on helping your company to increase your legitimacy. That was only because you two had studied together in college and grew to support one another.

"Isn't Han Jisung supposed to take the spot as their new chairman?" you asked when your eyes spotted his name on the screen.

"He gets promoted tomorrow morning."

You groaned in annoyance. "Does it mean he is going to be there at your night event?"

"Yes." he gave you a weak smile. "If it helps you to feel any better, he is only there to discuss business with us. You don't even have to address him a single word."

You scoffed again. "Trust me, I'll stay away from this guy. Why do you have business with him. anyway? I thought you were helping me!" you acted offended.

"Stop whining, Y/N. You're becoming CEO next year as well. See the following months as an opportunity to learn more about the industry." he patted your back.

You deadpanned at him, arms crossed. "You're so annoying."

"And that is why you love me." he faked a smile. "You should join your father before he asks me to marry you again."

Although your father thought the ideal solution to save the company was to marry you off to Chan, the latter had refused multiple times. You were his best friend, he would never take away such a big part of your life from you.

"Fair enough." you shrugged. "Don't forget to send me the papers, I'll sign them tonight."

"Yeah, yeah." he motioned his hand at you while his eyes were stuck on his computer. "See you tomorrow."

You joined your father outside, and there were already journalists surrounding him, asking him questions about your downfall and how he planned to save his company. You came to his rescue by telling them off and dragging your father behind to the car. Once in the vehicle, you asked the driver to bring you home.

"I really think you should marry Mr. Bang for our sake." he shot at you as the car started to move. "This would do great publicity and help us rise our sells."

"Well, it's a shame he doesn't want to propose to me." you sighed with a hint of playfulness in your voice.

"Y/N, be serious for once!" he nagged at you. "You've known the man for years and he is very respectful. I see no issue in a marriage."

You rolled your eyes at him. "I don't want to marry him, neither does he. He is already helping us a lot, it should be enough for now."

"And look at the results. This only made us beat the Han family for a week or so."

Not wanting to argue, you simply sighed loudly and looked out the window. You passed in front of the Han building and caught a slight glimpse of Han Jisung. Another thing you hated about the man was how good-looking he was. This was surely going to help him raise their numbers after he gets promoted.

Finally getting home, you rushed to your room to go wash up. Your day had been a hassle with the meetings with Chan, trying to act as if you haven't seen each other at your worst back in college. The moment you stepped in the shower, your phone went off. Glancing at the contact, you shrugged it off and declined. A few minutes into washing your hair, it went off again. With a groan, you hurried to rinse off the shampoo and soap that remained on your body.

Still damped, you answered rudely. "What?"

"Uh... Is this a bad timing? I thought you told me you'd be off work by now..." the voice on the other side spoke with uncertainty.

"I am at home, but couldn't you have waited five minutes?" you groaned.

"Jeez, my bad, L/N." Jisung chuckled. "Call me when you can?"

"No, I'm done already." you sighed as you started to dry yourself with the towel. "What do you want?"

"I'm nervous."

Yeah, you and Jisung weren't exactly as hateful towards one another as people thought you were. You hated him, yes, but only because he was an annoying child who would be constantly calling you to talk about anything. Other than that, he was a good friend of yours.

"You've been preparing for a whole ass year, you'll be fine." you softly reassured him.

"I still believe I need more time."

"If you want my opinion, you'll never feel ready. I can assure you that you are more than well-prepared for this position." you said before going back to your room.

"Are you going to be there tomorrow?"

You sighed heavily as you let yourself fall on your bed. "Yeah, but don't expect me to talk to you."

"I know." he said sadly.

There was a pause in the conversation. You took it as an opportunity to change into a more comfortable outfit since you wouldn't be going out until the morning after.

"You still there?" you heard through your phone.

You picked it up again and placed it on your ear. "Yeah."

"I- Do you think it's weird for me to want things to be different?" he breathed out.

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You hated me before, right?"

"Yeah..." you trailed off, even more confused. "I still do, honestly."

"Yeah, well not like you used to. And I hated you too."

"Just get to the point." you complained.

"Right." he coughed. "I wish we could have continued what happened last year."

two. - a year ago -

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." you cursed under your breath.

From afar, you saw your sworn enemy, Han Jisung, walk towards the baggage reclaim area, looking around for his own. You put on your sunglasses in hopes he wouldn't notice you. To your luck, he didn't as he seemed more preoccupied with finding his luggage.

You turned on your heels and walked away as fast as you could. In all of the places in the world, he had to be exactly where you were at for your little solo escapade. Add to that it was at the same time. You couldn't go back, this trip had cost you too much already.

"Well, well." you heard from behind. "If this isn't Miss L/N." he said in a cocky voice.

You shut your eyes closed before turning around, coming face to face with the man. "And if this isn't Mr. Too-Much-Ego-For-His-Own-Good." you faked a smile.

"I appreciate your worry about my ego, L/N, but I don't think it is necessary." he smirked at you. "Unless you actually have feelings under that pretty façade of yours."

It was your turn to send him a smirk. "I understand from what you said that you think I am pretty?"

His smile dropped. "You wish, princess."

With that, he left you in the middle of the airport as he headed towards the exit. Calling for a cab, he disappeared moments later. You could finally breathe a little. After making sure he wasn't around anymore, you went ahead yourself to get in a cab. You told the driver the location of the hotel you had reserved at, and it took him no time to drive away from the airport.

When you arrived, he was kind enough to help you with your bags before the valet took you in charge and brought them to your room. He led the way to the suite you had booked and made sure it was to your comfort before leaving. The sunlight was refreshing and the view as well compared to your house in the middle of the city back home. You walked to your balcony to take in the fresh air, letting yourself feel the warm breeze.

"Enjoying the view, L/N?"

Turning your head to your left, your eyes grew wider. This had to be a joke. There was no way he was in the room next to yours.

"Han." you muttered.

"I'm starting to think you are stalking me." he let out a laugh.

Even from his balcony that was a bit afar from yours, you could see the smug look plastered on his face. He was one hell of a jerk to be accusing you of such things, especially considering how much your families were against each other.

"I could say the same about you." you snorted.

"Don't expect this much from me, princess. If I wanted to pay attention to you, I would have done so way before."

How much you hated this pretty face of his. "Sure. Just don't bother my vacation." you huffed.

"You already ruined mine." he shot at you before walking back inside.

You soon did the same and rushed to get your phone, although you had promised yourself to not use it for the next two months of your getaway. In a hurry, you searched up Chan's contact and called him.

"I told you! You didn't even last an hour without your phone." he laughed as he answered.

"Han is here."

Chan said nothing, you could only hear his breath.

"Do you want to know the best?" you continued. "He's in the same fucking hotel in the room next to fucking mine."

"Oh." was all what came out of his mouth.

You grunted. "Thank you for the support, Bang."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but this is kind of a lot to process." he chuckled awkwardly.

"Yeah, no shit..."

"Look, it can't be that bad! Just ignore him and he'll do the same. You two don't even look at each other during events, you can do the same now."

In a way, Chan was right. How bad could it be if the only thing you would do is go out in the sun and enjoy the beach? Sure, you were staying at the same hotel, but it didn't mean you were going to bump into each other every two seconds.

"Alright, I suppose it could have been worse. He just gets on my nerves so much."

"Ignore him and enjoy your trip, okay? I have to go now, but call me anytime."

"Thank you, Chan."

That night, you opted for having dinner at the restaurant in the lobby. From what you have heard, they served the best beef on Earth and there was no way you would miss your chance to taste it. You dressed in a casual attire, in contrary of your usual blazer you'd wear for work, and didn't even bother to look presentable. On this island in the middle of nowhere, who was going to recognize you anyway? Your cropped top with the skirt you picked definitely weren't going to be much of a problem.

The server offered for you to sit at their bar to taste their cocktails they offered along with the meat. You denied kindly and he assigned you to a single table near the window. From there, you had a perfect view of the sea and the sunset which were simply breathtaking. For the first time since your arrival, you finally felt at ease, which was exactly what you were going for. No stress, no pressure, just calmness.

"I'll have the flank steak with the potatoes, please." you ordered to the waiter, who took your menu after he noted it down.

The meal arrived not too long after. Taking a bite, you hummed from the taste, satisfied with the flavours. This was a perfect scenario; alone in the middle of nowhere eating the best food without anyone to bother you.

"Sorry ma'am." the waiter said, bringing a red drink in his hand. "The gentleman at the bar ordered this for you."

He left it on the table, making you almost blush. Not only was your night already perfect, but you could have your summer love at this instant. Your gaze moved to the counter with anticipation, until your smile was replaced by a glare.

"Are you being for real?" you scoffed, almost not believing what was happening.

"This is the most I have seen you in an entire day, Miss L/N." Han grinned, having the same drink as yours in his hand.

He left some money next to his plate before getting up and taking place on the seat in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements, daggers through them. He looked extremely handsome, more than usual. There was something about him wearing his shirt with a few buttons undone and neat jeans that had some sort of effect on you.

"What do you think you are doing?" you questioned, crossing your arms.

"I paid a beautiful lady a drink, what is so wrong with that?" he smirked.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you chuckled at him. "Are you seriously trying to flirt with someone you cursed at in public for the last month or so?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he took a sip of the red liquor. "This is in no way a professional setting, I'm allowing myself to let it loose. It might be something you should consider doing as well, princess."

"As if." you let out a laugh.

"I'm serious. Other than work, I don't see a reason for hating you at this moment. When you think about it, right now, we are two respectably office workers who are simply on a break on this beautiful island."

A playful smiled appeared on your face slowly. "You are right, Han. Maybe we could put our work aside for the following weeks."

You took this as a way to avoid awkward interactions, but mostly, it would avoid him shooting insults at you for the time being. If you were going to be seeing him regularly, might as well make a truce to be able to enjoy your stay.

"I didn't expect you to be agreeing with me." he tilted his head to the side. "How long are you staying anyway?"

"Two months."

He let out a hum. "Same as me."

"Great." you muttered.

Finally feeling the need of a drink, you took a sip of the one Han bought you. Your stare stayed cold as he observed your gestures. His eyes were almond round, but there was this intimating hint in them that you couldn't quite put a finger on. You were visibly both still on the edge. However, it was somehow more tolerable than usual.

He raised his glass towards you and you copied his move. "What are we toasting for?" you raised an eyebrow.

He grinned at you. "To us, two known rivals who bury the hatchet for two months."

"To us."

Cling.

three. - eleven months and three weeks ago -

The first week had passed by so fast. Although you had planned to do so many things, you had barely gone outside. Unlike what you originally thought, you were not able to get away from work as easily. With a couple of calls here and there, signing documents to confirm shipments and others, you had little time to go out and enjoy the weather.

"What did I tell you?" Chan sighed, video calling you from his office. "I thought this was to forget about work."

"I know, I know." you groaned while rummaging through the clothes you packed. "I promise, today, I'll do nothing else but go to the beach and take a dip in the sea."

"Yeah, if you can find your bathing suit." he held in a laugh as he watched you struggle. "I'd offer to help, but I am eight hours away from you."

"Oh, wow, Channie." you turned to look at your phone. "I didn't know, I'm so glad to know you wanted to help still."

"Drop the attitude." he rolled his eyes. "You should be enjoying the sun instead of talking to me."

"You're my only source of entertainment since I got here, my bad." you held your hands up in defense. "Though I'm sure you have a lot of work right now, so I'll leave you be."

"Good plan. Have a good first day of vacation!" he waved before hanging up, not letting you say it back.

"This asshole." you mumbled to yourself.

Finally getting a hold of your bikini, you changed into it and wore a long summer dress over it so you could easily remove it once at the beach. You packed a tube of sunscreen, sunglasses, sandals, a bottle of water, and a book to spend the time.

You got there in a matter of minutes since your hotel was so close to the shore. There were already a lot of people, but you managed to find a spot a bit further where you could have some peace. There was a long chair installed with a parasol and a small table, so you placed your things, laying them out neatly, before you removed your dress. You were about to put on your sunscreen, until you heard a whistle from your left. Looking for the source of the sound, your eyes laid on a man. He wasn't so old, but he was visibly way older than you.

"Hi, Miss." he presented himself politely. "My name is Ko Sangwook."

"Okay." you said nonchalantly.

"And you are?"

"Annoyed you came here to bother me." you snapped at him. "If your way of flirting is whistling at a woman because you saw her at the beach in a bathing suit, I can understand why you are still looking for someone at your age."

"I-" he started, but you raised your hand up to stop him.

"I came here to relax and enjoy the view, so if you don't mind, it'll be very appreciated if you leave me alone."

"I didn't mean to-"

"I know what you meant." you cut him off again. "But like I said, I'd like to be left alone, thank you."

His shoulders dropped in defeat before he turned on his heels and walked back to where he previously was. Satisfied, you went back to putting on the cream on your arms. As you thought you had finally some tranquility, you heard someone clapping their hands slowly as they approached you. You immediately knew who it was.

"I almost interfered but I might say, you are rather good at handling such situations, L/N." he commented as he continued to clap.

You gave him a polite smile. "I'd usually tell you to fuck off, but in the context of the vacation, I'll gladly thank you."

Han snickered as he approached you. "You are very welcome."

He, himself, was in his swimming shorts with a loose white t-shirt and sunglasses that were pushing his hair back. This was a much different look from what you had seen him wear before and it was surely the first time you noticed the muscles he had through the fabric.

"Did you get here early?" you asked, now rubbing your legs with the cream.

He was checking you out, there was no doubt. However, the attention you were receiving was the least of your worries. Instead, you tried to focus on smoothing the white of the sunscreen.

"No, I got here about fifteen minutes ago. If I'm being honest, Miss L/N, I expected to be crossing your way sooner than today."

"I had issues to attend to." you responded, keeping it brief.

He dared to sit next to you as he saw you struggle to do your shoulders. Taking the tube from your hands, he squirted a certain amount and gave you a look as to ask for your permission. You nodded slowly and he started to rub your back gently, applying where you couldn't reach.

"Let me guess." he continued the conversation. "Work?"

"Precisely." you answered, suddenly not so focused as you felt his hands massage your shoulders. "I couldn't leave the paperwork to the staff, they would have messed it up."

"I see." he hummed.

To your disappointment, he was already done with putting on your sunscreen and he got up, rubbing his hands together with the remaining of it.

"Enjoy your day, princess." he said before he walked the opposite way from you.

You let out a huff, your brain trying to process the last couple of minutes. You shook it off. This was Han being polite, nothing more. Thus, you picked up your book and started to read, a way to change your mind. It didn't work. Your eyes kept drifting to where the blond-haired man was. Now totally shirtless, it was way harder to ignore his figure. One hell of a man he was.

four. - now -

You coughed, not knowing what to respond to him. He seemed to notice your discomfort as he immediately tried to justify himself, although you already knew what he was referring to.

"I mean, back when we could be casual with each other without worrying about... Well, not casual, but at ease?"

"I get it, Jisung." you said, pinching in-between your eyes. "Listen, I'm sure tomorrow will go wonderful for you. This is what you've been working for all of these years, no?"

There was hesitation in his voice as he answered. "It is, you are right."

"Alright... I have to go now, I have a big day tomorrow, and so do you."

"Yeah..." he mumbled. "Thank you, Y/N."

"Good night, Han." you hung up.

Burying your face in your hands, you recalled the previous year. So much had happened since then, you didn't know why you kept secretly befriending the enemy. This was wrong, in all aspects.

"Miss L/N." you heard from your door. "I have your laundry. What do you want me to do with it?"

You opened the door to meet eyes with the sweet Jeongin, your assistant slash butler. "Innie, be casual with me." you chuckled.

"I would but your dad is, like, staring at me." he whispered to you, which made you laugh.

"I'll just take these from you." You then noticed another piece of clothing that did not belong to you while you took the pile of clean shirts from him. "What is this?"

"Ah." he exclaimed before holding it higher for you to see. "Mr. Bang told me about tomorrow, so I thought I could shop something for you. Don't be mad, I just thought you wouldn't have the time."

Analyzing the gown, you grinned from ear to ear. It was a beautiful silk red dress with a long skirt that seemed to be flowing even though the man holding it was barely moving. You noticed it had pockets and it only made you love it even more. If anything, Jeongin had the best taste in terms of clothing.

"It's okay, Jeongin. I love it."

"I knew you would." he smiled with you and gave it to you. "Sleep well." he waved.

"You too."

The next day, you woke up with the worst headache. You would have taken the day off, if it wasn't for the agreement you still had to sign with Chan. The guy forgot to send you the papers, and so had you forgotten to remind him. Both of you were so smart, but when put together, it was a disaster.

You walked in his office, a coffee in hand and eyebags taking half of your face, and then slumped on the chair in front of his desk. He gave you a suspicious look, but didn't bother questioning you when he spotted the box of doughnuts in your other hand.

"Is this for me?" he asked excitedly.

You yawned loudly while nodding your head, dropping the box in front of him. "I got the caramel thingy you love so much."

"You're the best." he smiled at you. "I can't eat them yet, though. We have some stuff to sign, my dear."

With a groan, you grabbed a pen laying on his agenda and straightened your posture, ready to sign. He took out a document out of a file and started to read out the conditions. There were basic ones, such as the percentage of gain for each party and the duration of the contract.

"Yeah, yeah, I know all of this already, we wrote it together." you whined, growing impatient.

"Sorry for following proper protocol, Mrs. I-Am-Still-Asleep." he rolled his eyes at you.

"Headache." you answered. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed you a few places while turning the pages. "And here."

"This feels like I'm committing to a marriage." you grumbled.

He stopped his motion and sent you a glare. "Y/N, please focus."

"Sorry."

You eventually signed everything and Chan made a copy for you. He kept his in a folder before putting it away in his drawer. Business was easy with him, you liked it.

You yawned once more as you put the paper in your briefcase. "My father will be happy this is finally done."

"I suggest you take a nap with some pills before tonight, you don't look too good." he pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"Can I just crash on your couch?" you motioned the sofa in the corner of his office.

He shrugged. "Sure, but a heads up, Han is coming in a like thirty minutes."

Your eyes widened. "Uh?"

"We have a couple of things to get cleared up before tonight. It won't be long, I promise. You tolerated him for two months last year, you can handle an hour or so."

Did you handle the two months? You begged to differ.

five. - eleven months ago -

Avoiding Han was easier when going to a different beach, further away from the one next to the hotel. It required you more transport, but the episode of the sunscreen left you traumatized almost. It was primordial for it to not occur again.

However, there was so much you could do to not meet him again. Tonight, the hotel was organizing a night on the beach for dancing and partying. You were still a woman in your 20s, there was no way you would be missing out on this. That also meant Han wasn't going to skip it either.

The moment you stepped foot on the sand, you saw him. He was discussing with a lady at the bar. Dressed in a short-sleeved buttoned shirt that was clearly too loose for him, he matched it with ripped jeans shorts and a silver chain around his neck. The woman with him was the definition of a popular girl you would meet in high school. Blond hair that matched his, bralette that enhanced the forms of her breast and a skin way too perfect to be real.

You had dressed up for the occasion as well. Although you had more self-preservation than her, you had picked a V shaped top with yet another one of your skirts. This one was longer and the fabric flooded perfectly as you walked. You went close to where he was sitting, ordering a margarita for yourself.

"Excuse me for a moment." he said, bowing apologetically to the lady.

Slowly, he made his way to you. You wondered where in this mind of his he thought talking to you was more worth it than speaking with the hot chick he had just abandoned.

"I would have never thought of you as one for the margaritas." he stated when the drink was placed in front of you.

"And I would have never guessed you liked bimbos." you replied with a knowing smile. "Known to break hearts, Han?"

He chuckled as he shook his head. "I used to be a wild teenager, I have to admit that."

"Not a surprise." you shrugged and drank your cocktail.

"How were you?" To this, you frowned at him. "In high school, I mean."

Looking up, you started to roll your memories from then in your head. "More reasonable and responsible than you were, I'd say."

"There is no doubt." he let out a laugh. "You dated Mr. Bang, didn't you?"

You froze at his words. For an instant, he reminded why you hated his family. They would never mind their own business and were constantly asking around for the gossip. This came to their advantage, they were known to expose the fraud within the industry.

"Is this why he's saving your ass from when my father sued yours?"

"Weren't you the one who wanted to bury the hatchet?" you said in a challenging voice.

"My apologies, princess." he snickered. "Curiosity got the best of me."

You turned your attention back on the drink in your hands. "I never dated Chan. I didn't even know him back in high school."

"It doesn't look like your relationship is platonic. I'm sure you are aware of what is said in the medias about the two of you."

You instantly got what he meant by that. "There is no marriage arrangement." you simply replied. "Did it answer your questions?"

"It did." he affirmed, now taking a sip of his own alcoholic liquor.

You considered you'd had enough of the conversation. By then, you had drawn a good image of what the Han family were discussing among themselves, and to no surprise, it was pure bullshit. You chugged the rest of your margarita and the shot of tequila you ordered along with it. Wincing at the strong taste, you put the glass down before walking towards the dance floor. Han stopped you.

Sending him a roll of your eyes, you smacked his hand away from your arm. "Am I not allowed to go have fun? Do I need the permission of the great Han Jisung?"

"I was simply about to ask you to dance with me."

You scoffed. "After your stunt about my personal life? I don't think so."

You found yourself moving along the music alone, soon then joined by another young man. From afar, you saw that Han had gone back to flirting with the big boobed girl from earlier. Good for him, he seemed to be lacking some action. As for the boy dancing with you, he was rather attractive. You grew to learn that his name was Felix and that he came from Australia. He was also a young wealthy man who was looking for a getaway from the toxicity of the business. It seemed to be a common pattern for most people like you.

"I see you know my mate, Jisung." he told you when he brought you afar from the noise, walking along the water.

You glanced back to Han's direction as he was moving with the blondie, her ass grinding on him. "He's nothing more than a mere acquaintance."

"Oh." Felix nodded his head. "I apologize, it seemed like more from where I watched the two of you."

You huffed, not believing a word he was saying. "We're rivals. If anything, I despise him."

He laughed at your words. "Hard feelings?"

You shook your head. "Not him in particular, his family in general." you breathed out before stopping to look at the small waves. "This is beautiful."

"It truly is."

A slight smile crept its way on your mouth. "The stars look like the freckles on your face."

He let out a chuckle. "You're a romantic?"

"When the man who keeps me company is to my liking, yes." you flirted.

This was definitely the alcohol speaking, but Felix was good-looking. You were not going to beat yourself for having an interest in him.

"I take it as in you appreciate my presence." he said in a soft tone, taking a step closer to you.

As he was now hovering you, you felt your heart pounding. "Good assumption." you whispered.

Carefully, he leaned in to meet your lips with his. He was undeniably an excellent kisser and he knew what he was doing. He eventually poked your lips with his tongue, asking for permission to slide it in yours. You let your mouth agape and went on to make out sensually. He slowly moved his hands from your waist to your ass which made you gasp at the contact.

"Sorry." he mumbled.

"Don't be." you breathed out heavily.

You moved your lips down his throat, moving to the muscle in-between his neck and his shoulder. It was his turn to let out a groan, making him grasp tighter on your ass cheeks.

"You want to do this here?" he grunted, still in shock from your sucking on his skin.

"We can take this to my room, unless you can't wait." you said in a moan.

Without another word, he grabbed your hand and ran back to the hotel. On the way there, you exchanged glances with Han. He had the woman all over him, but he didn't seem to enjoy it as much as he should. Instead, his eyes were dark as he followed your figure running to the building. You would have questioned it, but Felix picking you up bridal style quickly shifted your thoughts elsewhere.

When the doors of the elevator closed, Felix's lips were back on yours and his hands were, again, fondling your butt. Too immersed in the moment, you didn't think twice as you removed his shirt. He was stunned by your action, especially because you were still in public technically, but he didn't fight back. Your eyes directly went to his abdominal muscles, leaving your mouth open.

"I think it was a good idea to work out again for my part." he chuckled.

"Definitely."

Next thing you know, you're in your room with an Australian cutie on top of you. It was good, excellent you dared to think, but that was it. A one-night stand, nothing more.

When waking up, you felt horrible for not seeing him more than that. He was even prettier in the sunlight, but it was just that. He slowly woke up, grunting while stretching his arms out.

"Hey." he waved at you cutely. "Good morning."

"Hey." you waved back as you sit up. "Last night was nice." you commented, and he nodded in agreement.

"It was." he said, but seemed hesitant. Lifting his body up to lean on his elbows, he looked at you. "I didn't... feel it, though."

You let out a groan of relief. "Thank God, because me neither."

He laughed. "It was really good, though." he trailed off.

He lifted his hand up to the back of your neck and pulled you close to his face. Kissing him was hot, he didn't leave room for it to be an innocent gesture. He moved slowly to press your body down on the bed as he turned to be on top of you.

"You're so fucking hot." he almost growled.

As you felt him suck in your neck, you moaned at the sensation from the contact. "Same for you." you managed to spill out.

He backed away a little and stared right back into your eyes. "I don't mind keeping contact as a friend, but I'd love if we can keep doing this."

"Agreed." you quickly answered before bringing him back to the crook of your neck, already in need of feeling him.

"Fuck, so eager." he rasped out, leaving a couple of sloppy kisses along your throat. "You're into morning sex, aren't you?

"You talk too much." you groaned, going back to kissing him.

His phone went off. It distracted you for a second, but you rapidly went back to business as Felix started to massage your thigh. He was about to go further, when the ringtone went off again. With a loud sigh, he separated his body from yours and went to pick up his device. Answering, he still kept touching you, leaving you vulnerable in all ways.

"Yes?"

"Felix, I get L/N is hot, but try to keep quiet?" you heard Han say through the phone.

Felix stopped touching you as a frown made its way on his face. "What do you mean?"

"My room is next to hers, I can hear you two fuck."

A blush crept on your cheeks, both from embarrassment and anger. Did he really have the guts to listen to you in such an intimate moment?

"Well, don't listen?" Felix replied in a small voice.

"Trust me, I would, but you two are loud as fuck and the walls are thin like paper."

That meant you would have heard him if he slept with the girl, but you didn't. You couldn't get why this reassured you.

"Alright, sorry." Felix breathed out, passing a hand through his silver locks. "Are you still up for shopping later?"

"Yeah, for sure. Meet me there at 11?"

You looked at the clock and it was already 9.

"Yes. See you there, mate." He hung up and gave you an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry."

You shrugged. "I'm here for another month or so, we can definitely do this again."

He gave you a satisfied smirk. "I'll wait. But for now, how do you feel about working you up a little?"

You huffed. "I'm definitely keeping you around just for that."

Minutes later, you were even more of a mess than the previous night as you let out uncontrollable gasps and moans. Felix did take care of you afterwards, making you a coffee from the machine in the corner of the room.

"You seem to have a lot of experience." you complimented as you took the mug he gave you.

He shook his head. "Not so much, actually. I recently broke up with my now-ex fiancée."

You winced at the thought before drinking your coffee. "I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing. I caught her cheating and it wasn't the first time."

"That's even worse..." you mumbled.

"It is. It sucked a lot. It's one of the reasons why I needed to leave Australia for a bit, change scenery."

"Understandable really." you nodded.

"What about you? How come are you in the middle of nowhere with your hotel suite right next to your so-called enemy?" he questioned.

You rolled your eyes, already annoyed at the simple thought of him. "Pure coincidence, really. We did agree to put all of it aside for the time of the vacation, but he does get on my nerves a lot."

"Jisung can be insufferable, I'll give you that." he laughed. "But he's not that bad. In fact, he might me among the few real people I've met here. And trust me, I've talked to almost everyone in this hotel."

You shook your head while laughing with him. "I have no doubt he is, but we'll never get along. It's like that and always has been."

"If you say so."

six. - ten months and three weeks ago -

You hooked up one more time with Felix before he had to fly back to his home country. Promising each other to keep contact, you watched him leave the hotel after he hugged you tightly.

"Already missing your boo?" Han joked.

He had tagged along with sending Felix off with you, much to your displeasure. This was the first time you saw him again after the party at the beach.

"I'm sure he told you it was purely platonic." you spat out before heading back inside.

"I'm kidding." he said in a much softer tone as he ran to catch up with your speed. "Are you coming to the bonfire tonight?"

You lifted an eyebrow at him. "There is a bonfire?"

"Yeah, another thing the hotel is hosting."

You shrugged your shoulders. "I suppose I can go check it out."

"I'll be there if you want to join me."

You chuckled at him. "If it's to watch you with bimbo girl again, no thanks."

To this, a smirk slowly appeared on his face. "Jealous much, princess?"

You wanted to punch him. "Of course, I would totally be heartbroken to see you rub your dick against a fake booty." you exclaimed in a sarcastic way.

He deadpanned at you. "I get the point, L/N."

"Then you understand I'll most likely not be joining you tonight."

"I'm the only person you know here apart from Felix. And since he just left, you have no other option than sticking with me."

"Logical, indeed." you replied. "Alright, I suppose I could use some company, although I doubt you'll be able to entertain me much, Mr. Han."

"You'll see."

You had finally reached your suites by then. Thus, he walked inside while not forgetting to send a wink your way. You felt your face getting warmer as you went in your own.

With a deep breath to shake it off, you walked to your luggage in order to inspect the few articles of clothing that would be appropriate for tonight. Your dresses were either too tight or you had already wore a couple of them. There was no way you were going to show up in pants. Then, you spotted a pair of short shorts with a tight tank top laying next to it. Your mind worked as it figured if it would be a good outfit as you imagined it with your oversized knitted cardigan. This seemed to work.

A few hours went by and you had chosen to add a few necklaces to add to your look. Boringly staring at the television in front of your bed, you didn't notice it was nearing the start of the bonfire. With a loud pounding at your door, you let out an annoyed grunt before answering and letting the man in.

"You look rather lovely." he commented.

His clothing wasn't different from usual, apart from the sleeveless shirt he had on that made his arms look very fit. His hair was in a messier state that what you had seen before but it fitted him well.

"And you look like some fuckboy." you responded and he huffed at you. "May you lead the way, please?"

"Sure, ma'am."

He didn't wait for you. He didn't even look back at you as he left to head towards the elevator. Not wanting for him to close the doors in your face, you hurried to join him with a little sprint. You truly asked yourself why you hadn't chopped his head yet.

"So courteous of you." you joked, already out of breath from your running.

"I try to be." he said with the same damn smug look he always had on. "Stamina is not your forte?"

"I don't have time for maintaining these types of things."

The elevator opened and, this time, he extended his arm out for you to hold on. Reluctantly, you gripped onto it before he started to walk towards the beach. Well, towards the bar. Now you were really wondering how he hadn't had a harsh hangover yet.

"Shall I buy you a margarita?" he asked as you were getting closer to the barman.

"Sex on the beach."

"Freaky." he hummed, resulting to you giving him a punch on the stomach with your elbow.

He grunted at the contact, but didn't say more. He left you alone as he went to order your drinks. In the meantime, you watched the young adults partying near the already growing fire. You didn't think you would be experiencing something like this again after college, even less after you entered your father's company. Frankly, this was the first time you went to social events like these.

"Here." Han held out the cocktail to you while drinking his own. "I haven't had a sex on the beach in years. You've got good taste, L/N."

You chuckled. "I stick to what I know, that's all." you shrugged.

You began to walk again but in a slower pace to not spill out the liquids in your possession. Much to your excitement, you spotted a group of three men sitting on logs in a small circle as one played the guitar. Not even consulting Han first, you made your way to them. Although your sudden change of direction took him by surprise, he followed you as you greeted the young men.

"Good evening." you waved and one of them smiled at you brightly. "I'm Y/N, and this is my..." you paused for an instant, searching for what you should be calling him.

"We're business partners." Han finished for you. "I'm Han Jisung."

The guy holding the guitar opened his eyes wide at the mention of the name. "As in the future chairman of Han techs?" he questioned, to which Han nodded. "You had a brief time in the music industry, am I wrong?"

This took you by surprise, especially when you saw Han acquiesce. The man, who later introduced himself as Seungmin, told him he followed his platform back then and had been trying to learn the guitar for a while. You watched your companion of the evening sit next to him as he explained the chords and more. You had never seen him speak with such passion, it was almost attractive. The simple fact he knew how the play the guitar would have been good enough for you to be interested if he wasn't Han Jisung.

"And you're Y/N L/N of the L/N Corporation?" the guy sitting next to Seungmin asked.

"That's me." you said before sitting down next to him.

"I'm Changbin, and this is my friend Minho."

You bowed at him as he waved at you kindly. He focused back on watching Seungmin and Han interact.

"I'm surprised to see you with a Han, I thought your families didn't have the greatest relationship." Changbin stated.

"We didn't intend to be coming here at the same time." you briefly explained. "I wouldn't be around him in normal circumstances."

"I believe you, don't worry." he laughed.

"I heard you wanted to release more music." Seungmin said to Han who was the one holding the instrument now.

He chuckled awkwardly as he tuned the strings. "I won't be able to do that anymore."

"Why not?" you asked.

His head shot up to look back at you. There was glistening in his irises, which was probably the reflection of the fire. He sent you a knowing smile.

"Work." he responded simply, his eyes still on you.

It was as if this simple word meant a thousand things. There was something you couldn't understand in his tone, but you got one part right; he gave up music for the company.

"Play something."

Startled by your request, he blinked a couple of times before letting out a quiet cough. "I'm sure I'm rusty."

"Please." Seungmin insisted. "It'd be great to hear you perform acoustically."

Sighing in defeat, he adjusted his posture. Placing his fingers correctly, he frowned as concentration took over. Then, he strummed the strings which left a beautiful sound. It sounded oddly familiar, but you let him play. Just when you thought he couldn't have amazed you more, he started to sing. Now, in a normal context, you'd say you fell in love right there and then. But it's Han Jisung. So, you were being content with simply enjoying the melody for now. He was talented, that was evident, but you would never say it in his face.

He sang the outro of the song with his gaze on yours. He noticed the pink appearing on your face and he didn't want to assume he was the one making you feel like this. Embarrassed, you looked at the bottom of your glass that was already empty. Han ended the song beautifully and the boys clapped their hands.

"Thank you, J.One." Seungmin snickered as he patted Han's back.

It hit you. The familiarity you had with the track was because it was one on your playlist, credited by J.One.

"You're that rapper dude who sometimes sings that I keep hearing on the radio?" you exclaimed in total shock.

As shocked by your words as you were, he nodded. "My father doesn't know. Please, Y/N, I beg you to not tell him."

Y/N... it sounded pretty coming out of his mouth. Without even knowing, you did grow familiar to one another since the beginning of this vacation. It was only a matter of time before you dropped the honorifics, such as calling each other by your last name.

"I won't." you smiled at him.

This was the first genuine smile he got from you that was actually directed to him. His heart skipped a beat. He wished he had seen it before, it made you glow.

"Thank you." he said softly.

As he stared between the two of you, Minho coughed to break the moment. "How about we join the actual party?" he prompted and the others stood up as to agree with his suggestion.

Changbin offered you a hand, but you kindly declined. "Are you sure?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure, thank you. I'll join you all later.'

"If you say so." he shrugged before running to Seungmin and Minho.

Han, however, was still at the same spot on the log with the guitar laying next to him. He watched the gathering around the fire and sighed loudly. You gave him a curious look, but didn't dare to ask what was on his mind. It wasn't your place to do so. As if he would be telling you anyway.

"We have three weeks left." he said no one in particular, his stare still on the dancing people. "It goes by so fast."

"It does." you affirmed. "I can't wait to be back home, though. It can get lonely here."

"I'm here." he pointed out.

"I wouldn't call you an enjoyable presence."

He winced, faking to be hurt by your words. "I can't blame you. Still hurts."

"You'll get over it, whiny boy." you shook your head in exasperation.

Another silence took over. Rather than wanting to shoot yourself for having him around, it almost felt like you were at home. His presence alone, whether you liked it or not, was comforting.

"For real, though." he spoke again. "I don't want to go back."

"Why not?"

He moved his stare towards you. "You know why."

You shrugged. "It was our fate since the day we were born."

"Exactly." he snapped. "All of our life is already planned in every way even before we can speak. I didn't ask to work for my dad, and I surely didn't decide on hating you."

For the first time, you heard him out. You were listening to the real Han Jisung. In a way, you had to agree with him; life within a world like yours wasn't easy. People were expecting so much of you, the pressure was constant. In all honesty, you thought Han was used to this lifestyle and actually enjoyed it. You were proven wrong.

"If I'm being truthful, I would have never hated you in the first place." he continued. "I mean, I have no valid reason."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "You know your father will kill you for even addressing me like this."

"Like what?" he cocked his head to the side.

"So casually..." you murmured.

He laughed a little. "You're quite the only here who can relate to what I'm going through. I'm simply taking the opportunity to rant, that's all."

"We are rivals, Han."

"Jisung."

You blinked twice. "Pardon me?"

"Call me Jisung, please."

You nodded, uncomfortable by his request. "Well, Jisung, while we are at it, should I complain as well?"

He gestured to you. "Be my guest."

"Okay..." you breathed in. "I wish I could hang out with Chan like we used to back in college. Ever since he got to his new role, I barely see him out of his office."

He hummed as you talked. "Right, Bang..." he trailed off. "You really love him, don't you?"

You frowned at him. "He's a close friend, yeah. Probably the only one I have, to be honest."

He broke into laughter. "I'm sorry, Y/N, but this is kind of sad."

"Who are you to say that? The only friend I am aware you have is Felix Lee." you scoffed.

He suddenly went back to his serious face, now sending you a glare. "I hate you."

"Breaking news." you said sarcastically.

"It was a joke." he snorted. "I literally just told you I don't really."

You realized you didn't get that this was what he had insinuated when he said he wouldn't hate you if it wasn't for his family. Thinking about it now, you also couldn't pinpoint a good argument on why you couldn't get along. Frankly, you had every aspect to be bonding: both heirs of grand companies, both pressured by the public, and both on a vacation to run away from it all. Adding the fact he was able to keep your holiday interesting in a way, he was fine really.

"I don't hate you either."

This seemed to take him by surprise. "You don't?"

You shook your head as a no. "I grew up hating your family, I naturally assumed you are as much of an asshole. I mean, you are, but in a nice way."

"Thank you?" he said, sounding more like a question. "I don't agree with most of what they are doing. I would rather be doing my music than working for them."

You chuckled. "I would have never guessed you are J.One."

"Well, I don't go around telling people. I'm surprised Seungmin knew, he must have been following my stuff for a while."

Talking about him, Seungmin had ran back to you. Taking your hands in his, he forced you up to go join the others. You argued you didn't feel like partying, but gave in eventually. Soon after, it was Jisung's turn to get fetched by Minho. Changbin had bought some beers for you all and you jammed to the music as you drank and enjoyed the warmth of the fire. At some point, you didn't notice how, but Jisung was casually swirling you around in a messy manner, the sand not cooperating with the stability of his feet. As for you, you were laughing uncontrollably for pretty much nothing as he kept guiding your body along the beats coming from the speakers. You hadn't had this much fun in a while, it felt amazing.

To your disappointment, the night came to an end. People dispersed on the beach as they regrouped in smaller crowds. Not much dancing was happening. You saw most of them heading back to the hotel, Minho and Seungmin among them. Changbin stayed behind as to make sure you and Jisung were doing okay. The man had one too many drinks, but you were surprisingly able to walk in a straight line still.

"Is he always like this?" Changbin laughed as Han tripped over his own feet again.

"I wouldn't know." you snickered with him. "But I'll have to admit, he's kind of cute being all lost and shit."

"I heard that!" Jisung smirked, now standing.

He clumsily joined you and slumped his arm around your small figure to get some balance. "Easy there." you laughed out.

"I'm fine."

Changbin helped you bring him to his room as you laid him on his bed. He argued with you that he didn't need to be taken care of, but the way he stood on the mattress told you otherwise. You assure Changbin that you could handle him from then on and he left the two of you alone, doubt still plastered on his face.

"Do you need anything?" you asked the drunk man as he attempted to walk up to you.

"I need you with me." he pouted which was too adorable for your liking.

"I'm already here with you."

In response, he grabbed your arm and dragged you to his bed along with him. Though he tried to do it carefully, he pushed you under the convers and tucked you in as if you were a toddler. You didn't fight back.

"I meant to stay with me for tonight." he grinned before going into the blankets next to you. "Do you like Felix?"

The abrupt change of topic caught you by surprise. Slowly, you moved your gaze to him as questions popped in your head. Was he in his right mind?

"I think he's a great guy, yeah." you responded although you were quite lost.

"He was a good fuck?"

You slapped him across his chest. "This is so inappropriate."

He scoffed. "Is it? I heard your moans for hours that night. Consider yourself lucky I only complained once."

"Were you listening all along? You pervert..."

You could not see his face due to the lack of lighting, but you could easily tell he was rolling his eyes at you. "Not intentionally." he sighed. "But quite honestly, I hated hearing you scream his name."

"Was I that annoying?" you joked.

"No, the opposite."

To this, you stood up from the pillow under your head and tried to find his eyes within the darkness. With the little light coming from the moon, you made out his features and saw some sort of sadness. If you weren't confused before, you definitely were now.

"Sorry, what?" you whispered.

It was his turn to get up from the mattress until his face was to your level. He put his hand up to your face, hesitant, but placed it to the side of your head in the end.

"If you haven't figured it out yet, L/N..." he started but stop when his breath got caught in his throat.

He was nervous. You could tell.

"What didn't I figure out?" you asked softly.

Your breathing wasn't doing any better than his. It was oddly uneven while you were almost shaking from how vulnerable he made you feel. Stroking the apple of your cheeks, he took a deep breath.

"I like you."

seven. - now -

"A pleasure, Mr. Bang." Han bowed to your friend.

You were still on the couch. While people would immediately think you were napping, you were more awake than ever. The simple sound of his voice was enough to make you fall asleep on a usual basis, but you felt like it could not keep you more conscious at the moment.

"The feeling is reciprocated." Chan bowed as well. "I apologize for Miss L/N sleeping in my office. We had some paperwork this morning and she didn't get much sleep."

Han hummed. "Not surprising considering her reputation."

It stung. Jisung would be the most caring and soft person when you would be alone together. But when put in a situation where a scandal would break if they ever say you interact with your supposed competitor, he was a totally different person. His words were harsh with no feeling. He was like the Han Jisung you used to despise so much.

"What reputation, may I ask?" Chan asked.

"Has she not been seen out with many gentlemen these past few months?"

He was referring to you father's selection of potential husbands he had forced you to go on dates with.

Chan let out an amused chuckle. "You're assuming she spent the night with them?"

"I'm simply talking about what is said."

Chan paused. How much you wished to open your eyes to see how he was reacting.

"Shall we jump to business, Mr. Han?" he changed the subject.

"Right." he coughed. "I apologize."

"I'd have to say congratulations for your new position."

"Thank you very much, I only hope I can be as great of a man as my father was."

"I know the feeling." Chan sighed.

They started to discuss new arrangements and all. You did doze off to sleep eventually, though it took you a while as you were trying to ignore the mixed feelings you had from when Jisung was bad mouthing you. An hour later, Chan woke you up, telling you he was alone now and that you should get home to get ready for the evening.

"Can I crash at your place?" you pouted.

"Y/N..." he said in a stern voice.

"Your bed is much more comfortable!" you argued. "And I don't want to face my dad. I bet he'll be talking to me about the important figures we'll see tonight and I am in no mood to listen to him."

He shook his head. "I have to get ready myself, I'm sorry. I promise I'll be sticking to you like glue for the entire ceremony, though."

"Oof." you made a face. "That's a tough promise you're making there, Mr. Bang. Plus, I know you'll have to speak with Han again. Don't involve me in this."

He let out an exasperate sigh. "What is it with you two? It's as if the hate sky rocked since last summer. What even happened there for you two to be so... disgusted by the other?"

Your mouth went agape. Staring at him blankly, you didn't know what to say. As much as you had tried to hide your relationship that was far from hatred, maybe you had overdone it.

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed again, visibly irritated by your cluelessness. "You know, Y/N. You always talk about him and throw whatever insult that comes to your mind. You didn't even leave just now when I told you he was coming."

Yeah, Chan definitely knew.

"Nothing happened last year."

"Bullshit." he muttered with a 'tsk'.

You got up from the sofa abruptly as you grabbed your purse. "I better get ready."

You stormed out of his office, leaving him no time to stop you from doing so. You felt horrible lying to him like this, but there was no way you were going to let anyone know about you and Jisung. Maybe this was your sign that it was all too risky. You should have done what you told yourself to do when you came back from vacation: stop everything with him. Why did you fall into his trap when he had called you not even 24 hours later while convincing you that it could be a secret?

"Hi, Y/N." Jeongin beamed at you as you arrived home.

"Is my dad here?" you asked, not even having the energy to speak properly to him.

"He left earlier. He went to the convention center in advance."

"Alright." you exhaled. "Want to help me out with getting ready?"

His eyes grew bigger. "I could call Miss Shin instead, no?"

You laughed as he mentioned one of your colleagues. "Jeongin, you're more than capable to help me. I know you like fashion anyway."

"I do..." he confirmed. "But this... it's not very my job to do so."

You rolled your eyes. "You're being dramatic. I'm asking you as a friend."

He ended up agreeing. In your room, he laid out the dress he bought for you on your bed. He asked you to pick out shoes to go along with it while he allowed himself to go through your jewelry box.

"Hoops?" he asked while showing you the pair of earrings. "And this golden chain?"

"Sure." you shrugged. "Do you think I should go with the black heels or the platforms? No, wait. I have these navy ones here." you exclaimed, rummaging through your rack of heels.

"Black ones are fine." he laughed. "I don't think navy matches well with red."

"Good point."

As you picked the shoes and brought them next to the gown, Jeongin spoke again. "I heard you yesterday." You froze in action. "Well, in fact, it was not the first time I heard you discuss with Mr. Han over the phone."

You were fucked.

"As in..." you started but couldn't even finish your sentence properly.

"As in I know you two are faking your little dislike towards each other."

You mentally cursed at yourself for not being careful enough. This only confirmed one thing in your mind: you needed to put an end to this as soon as you could.

"I'll stop this tonight, I swear."

Jeongin chuckled. "I really don't care, Y/N. The past year was the happiest I've ever seen you. If I were you, I wouldn't cut out the only thing that brought me comfort in a really long time."

You bit down your lip, hesitant. "I have to. I'm sure he already got a lot to prove as a new chairman by now. If we keep this going, this will only mark his image for life."

"You do you." he breathed out. "I'm just saying that you do seem fond of him and that it's a shame you'd want to throw it all away."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you picked the dress up and walked to your mirror in the corner of your room. Putting it up in front of your figure, you couldn't help but see yourself dressed like this with Jisung by your side. That would be the perfect picture, if it wasn't for your families. It was an impossible picture.

"Do you want help with your hair?" Jeongin grinned.

eight. - ten months and a week ago -

You cursed in a mumble at the sight of the man. As you were about to turn around to avoid him, he spotted you before you could do anything. Excusing himself to the woman he was already trying to woo, he ran to where you were standing.

"How delightful to see you here." he said cheerfully, panting from his little run.

"The feeling is the same, Mr. Ko." you faked a smile. "I didn't expect to be seeing you again."

"I had to come and apologize about my behaviour the other day. It was grandly inappropriate if me."

"It was." you agreed.

"If you allow me, I'd love to invite you for a drink."

You smiled awkwardly, until you felt a hand come around your waist.

"If she gets a drink tonight, it would be from me solemnly."

Mr. Ko's gaze went straight to Jisung as blush crept on his face. Bowing apologetically to him, he mumbled some sort of excuses before taking off to where he was previously sat at.

"Great, my knight in shining armour." you groaned as you slapped Jisung's hand away from your body. "I had this under control."

"I know, babe, but it was my time to shine." he smirked at you, placing his hand back on you. "Don't act like you didn't like me getting all protective."

"Going on that date with you last week was a mistake." you grumbled before walking away from him.

"Baby." he whined, catching up to you.

"You're such a child."

He grabbed your wrist to stop you and spun you around, your body now clashing to his chest. Before you could process a reaction, his lips found their way to yours as he laid a small peck.

"You love me like that." he said softly.

You slapped his chest and got away from his grip. "I said not in public." you nagged.

He looked around for a moment and pecked your lips again.

"Han Jisung!" you yelled out.

"There is no one."

He was now holding your hand, his thumb rubbing it gently. You scanned your surroundings for a second, and finally gave in as you let him pull you into a loving kiss.

"You do know they use this lobby for wedding ceremonies, right?" he said once he pulled away.

"Already thinking about marrying me?" you perked an eyebrow.

"I told you, princess, I've been in love with you for years."

With a huff, you started to head towards your room, him having abandoned his some days ago. "Yeah, well, keep dreaming. Once we come back home, this arrangement is over."

He shook his head violently. "Stop bringing it up, please."

"We're leaving in a week, Ji." you exhaled in frustration. "We have to face reality."

"Or." he started, taking both of your hands which stopped you from walking. "We could enjoy the remaining time we have together and worry about the rest later?"

You let go of his hands as you rolled your eyes, going straight back to where your room was. He followed behind closely and you let the door open for him to come in as well.

"Y/N, please." he said, closing the door behind him.

Throwing your belongings on the coffee table, you acted as if you were not listening. Turning on the television as you let yourself fall on the couch was his limit. He took the remote from you and aggressively turned off the screen. With a glare, he threw it away next to you before putting his hands on his hips.

"Are you avoiding this conversation?"

You groaned. "I'm not. It's just..." you cut yourself by rubbing your face. "This is messed up."

"I'll give you that." he sighed and went to sit with you. "We can stop if you want."

"I don't want to stop." you admitted. "But that's the issue. I'm simply trying to prepare myself for what's coming."

He put his hand on your thigh as a way to comfort you. "I know it sucks, which is why I'm suggesting we should only enjoy the time we have left as much as we can. Can you do that for me?"

You moved to meet his eyes and they were filled with hope.

When he confessed two weeks ago, you hadn't realized yet how sincere he was. It wasn't easy to perceive considering he had almost passed out after spilling out the words 'I like you'. Still, the morning after, you had the courage to ask him about it and that's when he told you everything. From the first time he saw you and thought you were simply gorgeous to when you defended yourself to the journalists by saying you didn't need your father's help to get to where you were now. He admired your honesty, your journey in your work, but mostly, he admired your sensitivity. He wasn't blind, he saw how you took care of Chan when he became CEO. The man was close to a mental breakdown until you came in with the biggest smile to cheer him up. He loved how unbothered you could be, how brilliant you were, and how you remained respectful to him even with your disagreements.

So seeing him almost sacrifice his career for the sake of being with you even if it meant for only a week or so, you could not resist it. Because, frankly, you had fallen for him as well. For the sensitive and ambitious man you grew to know.

"Okay." you nodded. "We'll worry about after later."

He smiled and brought you closer, kissing you for the hundredth time of the day. Gosh, how you loved the way he kissed you. It was always filled with such care and love, you were wondering how he was even the same man you thought to hate.

"I spotted this karaoke restaurant-bar in the city." he said, still holding you tight.

"What about it?"

"Should we have a date instead of ordering food?"

You looked at him incredulously. "I thought you hated going out."

"I don't mind if I get to treat you some good food."

You slapped his chest once more, a way to hide the blush appearing on your face. "You're so cheesy."

It took you both no time to get ready and dress up for the occasion. Jisung had called a cab so you wouldn't have to walk all the way there. It was crowded, to say the least. It looked like the karaoke had already started as you saw two girls in front of the mic with drinks in their hands. They sang with their tone very off and it wasn't the most pleasing thing to hear when arriving. Jisung tugged your arm and led you to a table a bit further. A waiter came up to you, asking you if you wanted something to drink to start the evening.

"Just a beer is fine." Jisung smiled at him.

"Margarita for me."

He nodded before leaving you with the menus.

"Back at it with the margaritas?" Jisung teased at you.

You shrugged. "Gets me drunk the fastest."

"Go easy on the alcohol tonight."

You frowned. "So you care about my well being?"

"No, I just don't want to deal with your hangover tomorrow." he said with a smug on his face.

"Jerk." you huffed.

When the waiter came back with your drinks, you took the opportunity to order your food as well. It was nothing too extravagant: some fries with chicken. A few people had sung on the stage and you saw a group of girls marking their names on the lineup list. Jisung seemed to notice as he got up and stood behind them. Turning to look at you, you saw the smirk on his face.

"What are you doing?" you mouthed to him.

He only shrugged and turned back his attention on the iPad where you could sign up. He spoke with the man hosting the show for a brief moment and noted down something on the screen. As he walked back to your table, you were shaking your head in exasperation.

"What did you do, now?" you said with a warning tone.

"You'll see, baby." he replied with a wink. "Let's enjoy our food for now."

You dug into your meal, not even caring about your manners anymore as you picked up the chicken drumstick with your hands. Jisung was as messy as you were, chewing on the meat. His cheeks were full, it was adorable. You saw some barbecue sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth. Although you knew he was probably going to mock you for it, you grabbed his face with your clean hand and placed a kiss on his lips. Licking the remaining of the sauce, you hummed at the taste.

Meanwhile, Jisung's mind had stopped working. This might had been the hottest thing he'd seen you do, especially since you gave him a flirtish look while your tongue was wiping off the food on your lips.

"Han Jisung and Y/N L/N." the host called out, taking the both of you by surprise.

You rushed to clean up your mouths and hands before walking up to the stage. You knew Jisung was a good singer, but as for you, it was another story. In all honesty, you hadn't sung in years.

"You chose Volcano by J.One." the host read out loud as confusion took place on his face. "Never heard of this one... Oh well, the stage is yours, lovebirds."

You went to look at Jisung in panic, but instead, you came face to face with a microphone that he was holding out to you. You did know the song, you had even added it to your favourites.

"This is like the worst of your songs that you could have picked out." you complained.

"I know, it's a hard one, but I know you have it in your playlist." he said cheekily.

As you were about to protest, the music started to play as the lyrics appeared on the screen in front of you. You couldn't move, taken over by fear and nervousness. But Jisung was doing perfectly fine. He was in his element. As the first verse started, he sang along in a mesmerizing voice. He was simply amazing. You were almost lost in him when he nudged your arm, signaling for you to sing along with him. Even though you were frightened to do so, his presence alone gave you the confidence to bring the mic close to your mouth and sing along with him. You were a little off, but Jisung encouraged you to continue and didn't even bother to correct you. The song came to an end and he did not hesitate before kissing you softly before bringing you into a warm hug.

"You did great, princess." he whispered in your ear.

That night, let's say things got steamy. Walking back clumsily in your room, he was almost biting your lips as the eagerness took over him. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you jumped around his waist while he held you firmly by the thighs. Although you had made out tons of times already, he never wanted to go further, saying he wanted to make it special. Tonight seemed to be it.

"Was it better with Felix?" he rasped out as he walked to your bedroom.

"Jealous, Han?" you snickered at him as he put you down on the edge of the bed carefully.

"I am." he said with confidence. "I'll make you feel good, baby."

"We'll see." you laughed.

To sum it up, he did way better than Felix, even when you thought it would be hard to do so. While Felix was rough, Jisung was careful and liked to build up the tension instead of going straight for it. It was frustrating in a way, but it did make the actual action ten times more worth it.

You woke up in his arms, fully naked, and his eyes were still closed shut. With his lips slightly parted open, he looked like a child taking his nap. Turning around to get a better view of him, it was enough to wake him up. He made a pout with his mouth while opening his eyes in a squint, taken aback from the morning sunlight coming right on his face.

"Rough morning?" you chuckled.

"I don't want to get up." he grumbled and brought you closer to him. "Let's stay in bed today."

"All day?"

"All day." he affirmed before kissing your temple. "Unless you had something else in mind."

"Well, you kind of made me unable to use my legs." you said, recalling the previous night. "Staying in bed it is."

"You asked for it."

nine. - ten months ago -

Six days turned into five, that turned into four, that turned into three, until it got to zero. The day you had tried to ignore for the past week. Your flight wasn't scheduled until the afternoon, so you had plenty of time to pack your baggage. But the morning was rough.

"Coffee or tea?" Jisung asked casually as he stood in front of the counter.

Your lack of answer meant a hundred of things. As he looked up to see you, you were standing in front of the sliding door to the balcony, not moving a bit. He didn't need to ask you what was on your mind, he knew it already. With a loud sigh, he walked up to you and gave you a back-hug as he put his head on your shoulder.

"I'll miss this view." you breathed out. "The water is so pretty."

"It is." he hummed. "I'll make you a tea, okay?" he said and placed a peck on your cheek.

Again, you didn't answer. He let go of you and went ahead with preparing your beverages. Before you noticed time had passed, he was back with a mug that he held out to you. You mouthed a small 'thanks' but didn't take your eyes off the scenery.

"You know we can keep contact, right?" he broke the silence.

You shook your head. "In another life, yes."

It cut right through his heart, you were right. He hated how right you were.

"We could try?"

"Jisung, stop. How would this even work? We get caught once and it'll be enough for us to get disowned." you rationalized. "This sucks, I know, but it's our reality."

"You rather get married off some rich old man?" he joked but it had some truth in it.

"It looks like this is what is waiting for me, yes. Or Chan." you shrugged. "It has been the plan since birth, just like yours to become chairman is."

"I don't want it."

You scoffed. "Yeah, well, do you have a choice? We're stuck in this."

How much he wanted to shut you up and tell you that things could be different. He wanted to beg you to not go back home and run away with him. Your thing lasted barely a month, but it was enough for him to know he wanted you with him, even if it meant to disappoint his family.

"I just wish it was easier."

"I know."

He slowly came closer to you and put his hand on your jaw which made you turn your focus on him. The tears you were holding in were finally streaming down your face as you had eye contact with him. His touch, despite being a simple gesture, made you weak.

"I'm sorry." he almost whispered. "It's my fault we started this while knowing perfectly it couldn't happen."

You nodded slowly. "Yeah, fuck you for that." you chuckled. "I really should have gotten with Felix instead."

He let out a huff. "You're still a pain in the ass."

"Just getting back to my old antics." you shrugged with a smirk appearing through your crying face.

"I see how it is, L/N." he played along. "Is there a way for me to shut that annoying mouth of yours?"

"Just try to make me shut up."

He then kissed you. You started to feel something wet on your cheeks, but it wasn't your own tears. It was him. He was crying. A knot formed in your belly as it started to truly hit how this was the last time you'd be able to kiss him. You hated how easy you fell for him and how cruel the whole situation was. When he backed away, he still leaned his forehead on yours as he plunged his gaze into yours.

"We don't mention this to anyone." he said and you could clearly hear the pain in his voice.

"This never happened." you confirmed.

He gave you a quick peck and let go of you to finish off with packing. You were still standing at the same spot, unable to process fully what was happening. Your mind was elsewhere, too preoccupied with the memories of your vacation with him.

"Can I keep your hoodie?" you blurted out.

He stared at you in confusion. "My big white hoodie? Why?"

"A souvenir I guess?"

His mouth turned into as smile and he grabbed his sweatshirt before throwing it your way. "It looks better on you, anyway."

The way to the airport was silent. In the taxicab, the driver had put some music to fill in the lack of discussion. In a discreet way, Jisung reached his hand out to hold yours and gave it a squeeze. Chills travelled down your body as you fixated your linked fingers. The effect he had on you was insane.

The ride was too quick for your liking as the driver pulled over in front of the airport. He kindly helped the two of you with getting your luggage out of his trunk. Jisung paid him and you were now off to find your flight. Since he had one stop to do for a work meeting in Europe, he wasn't going to be coming back home on the same plane. And so, here came the grand moment you had both dreaded for.

He straightened up his posture to face you properly and an emotionless expression took over. Still, you could tell how much he hated acting like this. You put on the same façade and bowed at him respectfully. You didn't want to take the risk of getting caught by someone.

"I sure hope you have a safe flight, Han."

"I hope the same for you, L/N."

Calling each other like this used to feel normal, but it had become such a foreign thing to do. It felt wrong, impersonal, almost mean. It was weird.

"I'll see you around." you nodded your head at him.

With a hum, he passed by next to you closely to head towards the gate he needed to be at. Even if people would see it as him bumping into you intentionally, he still took the time to briefly catch your hand. You felt something cold land into it. Before you could question him about it, he was already far as he walked quickly away from you. You looked at your hand and saw something shiny dangle. Bringing it close to your face, you saw what he had dropped.

It was a simple golden chain accessorized with a charm: a rose.

ten. - now -

Your father had sent a limousine to come pick you up. Of course, you had to have a grand entrance at the ceremony. There would be journalists and cameras, and so it was primordial for you to be looking at your very best. Jeongin helped you get in the car like a gentleman. You would have asked him to come with you, but the guy did deserve a break. He kissed your cheek goodbye and wished you an enjoyable evening.

When your limousine arrived in front of the convention center, you could already see cameras flashes and microphones being held out towards your direction. Taking a deep breath, your door opened as your driver offered his hand to help you out. You put on a fake smile for the pictures but denied any kind of interviews. You were not in the mood for that. As you entered the building, you were impressed by how Chan's team had decorated the place. It was very formal but it still had a hint of comfort. Before you knew it, your father had spotted you. Welcoming you with arms open, he gave you a small hug.

"Y/N, my dear, I am happy you made it here safely." he grinned. "I would love to present you to someone."

You deadpanned at him. "Another of your potential suitors for me?"

"He is young and vibrant. An excellent businessman for his age, I shall mention."

As you grumbled under your breath in annoyance, your father brought you over to a group of men, all of them wearing a tuxedo. They all looked the same...

Then, you caught a glimpse of a man who was visibly younger than most of them. He stood closely to who you assumed to be his parents as he bowed instinctively to the others. Upon seeing your father, he smiled politely.

"Mr. L/N." he bowed.

"Hi, Mr. Hwang." your father beamed at him. "I found my daughter that I wanted to introduce you to."

You shut your eyes in internal pain. He really had to present you like you were some kind of product to sell? You never liked being your father's pet, even less now that he just wanted to marry you off someone wealthy.

"A pleasure to meet you." Mr. Hwang nodded his head at you. "I'm Hyunjin."

"Nice to meet you." you replied back with a bow. "I believe I saw you in a publicity recently, no?"

He laughed embarrassingly. "Right, I'm a model."

Ah. He was one of those guys.

"I assume you were invited to help with Mr. Bang's publicity team."

"Exactly." he confirmed. "You know the business well."

"I actually am about to become CEO of L/N Corporation."

He bowed again. "I apologize, I really didn't mean it like that, I was simply trying to make the conversation."

You knew he was being honest, he seemed too clueless of a man to be saying such things intentionally. Maybe models weren't as bad as you thought.

"It's okay, really." you chuckled. "Have you met Mr. Bang yet?" He shook his head. "He's a close friend of mine. I can present you to him."

His eyes went wide. "Really?"

His mother nudged his arm for being informal and he coughed shyly as he apologized.

"It's fine, really. Come, I'll introduce you."

You took his hand in yours and led him towards Chan who had a drink with some of his colleagues. He noticed you were approaching him and excused himself to come give you a big hug.

"Well, aren't you pretty today? It's good that you look pleasing to the eye once in a while." he joked.

"Thank you, Chan, really." you grumbled. "Anyway, I wanted you to meet Hwang Hyunjin."

The latter bowed politely to your friend. "Good evening, Mr. Bang. I don't know if you remember me, but I did appear in one of your promotion videos once."

Chan shifted to his professional role and nodded as Hyunjin spoke. "I remember. I even asked one of the leading directors to contact you again."

"Really? I haven't heard from them."

You left them at it and walked back to your father who had ended up flirting with one of the ladies from the Bang's engineer team. You understood that he might need someone ever since your mom left, but did he really have to do it during an event like this?"

"Father." you interrupted him and he glared at you.

"Aren't you with Mr. Hwang?"

"I offered to introduce him to Mr. Bang."

He sighed in disappointment. "Alright, maybe Hwang wasn't the right fit." He put his hand on your back and started to walk closer to the bar. "I have someone else I want you to meet."

"Yay." you said in a bored tone. "I think I can pass for this one-"

"Mr. Lee!" you father called out. "May I present to you my daughter."

Mr. Lee turned around at the mention of his name and his eyes fell upon your figure. Immediately, the both of you stared back at each other in pure shock.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed.

"Felix!" you said in the same tone of voice.

He pulled you into a tight hug, leaving your poor father in confusion. "You know each other..." he trailed off.

"Mr. L/N, I met your daughter during her vacation last year."

You dad nodded his head slowly. "I see. I will leave you two reconnect. Call me if you need anything." he said as he put his hand on your shoulder for a brief moment.

As he walked away from you two, you exchanged laughs. "What a coincidence! How is it that you are here and not in Australia?" you questioned him while he offered you a glass of champagne.

"I'm here to do business with Chan. I didn't know you were familiar with him."

"We are literally best friends." you chuckled. "How do you know him?"

"I'm sure he told you he grew up in Australia." You nodded. "We used to be neighbours."

"Wow." you let out in a breath. "Such a small world, uh?"

"It is." he laughed. "Your father is quite a persona. He was bragging about you for a solid ten minutes earlier."

"Oh gosh." you said while hiding your face in embarrassment.

"Yeah, he wasn't being very subtle about his intentions. Let me reassure you right away, I won't ask you to marry me. We already established how we feel about that last year."

You smiled at him. "Thank you, Felix. I'm glad I don't have Chan as my only friend tonight."

He shrugged. "There is Han too." he pointed to nowhere in particular. "I saw him earlier."

You huffed in disgust. "I don't intend to speak with him."

He gave you a soft smile. "Quit it, Y/N. I know about you two."

Your eyes grew bigger and you nudged his arm. "Say it louder... How the hell do you know?"

"Jisung isn't so good with handling these kinds of things on his own. Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone and I think I'm the only one who's aware of what happened."

You were going to snap at Jisung, that was for sure.

"Great..." you muttered under your breath.

"You do realize how in love he is with you, right?" he asked before taking a sip of his champagne.

"Yes, I'm well aware of it. It can't happen, though. There is too much to risk if it gets out in the news."

"Did you know he refused to take his father's spot?"

You almost choked on your drink. You were certain to have heard correctly back in Chan's office that he did, in fact, get the position. What was Felix even saying?

"He did what now?"

Felix couldn't answer. Your dear best friend had to interrupt your conversation as he took the spot on stage with a microphone. He started to thank the guests for coming and explained the purpose of this gathering. You were not listening one bit. Instead, your eyes wandered around the crowd as you tried to find the one man who had taken such a huge part of your life. Then, you spotted him. Close to the stage, he was next to his father as he was listening attentively to Chan. He looked extremely good, and he was matching you. Dressed in a burgundy red suit with a tie of the same colour, you wanted to curse Jeongin for having chosen your dress. He surely knew Jisung was going to wear something similar. It was as if he knew you were staring when his own gaze found yours. He sent a quick smile your way, one so darn adorable that it could make you melt, and turned his attention back to Chan. You needed to speak with him, and fast.

The second after Chan finished his speech, you excused yourself to Felix and went straight ahead towards Jisung. The latter had left his family and was looking at the pamphlet of the new Bang inc. projects instead. He didn't even see you arrive until you grabbed him by the arm harshly, dragging him behind as you headed towards a random hallway where you could discuss privately. He started to let out incoherent complaints but you ignored him. You soon found an empty conference room and shoved him inside, not forgetting to lock the door behind you and close the curtains.

"Y/N, the fuck?" he exclaimed.

"I could ask you the same." you said angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You saw him stare up and down at you. He really had the guts to check you out while you were beyond furious with him.

"Han Jisung." you yelled out sternly and he jumped a little.

"What is it?" he asked innocently.

"Why am I hearing that you refused your position as chairman of Han technologies?"

Oh. It suddenly clicked in his mind. He had planned to tell you himself, but things didn't go his way.

"I'm resigning from the company."

You stared at him blankly. "Sorry, what?" you asked, completely bewildered by his statement.

"I refused to sign the contract this morning and I'm getting off duties by the end of the month." he said calmly. "It was too much for me."

You shook your head in disbelief. "You can't do that. Jisung, we talked about this before. This is your whole career, why did you-" you cut yourself off, too shaken up by his announcement. "Have you thought this out?"

"I did." he said with an elongated breath. "My dad discovered my music not so long ago and we argued a bit about it."

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

He ignored your question. "He ended up being quite okay with it. He said he didn't realize how much pressure he was putting on me and that I could do what I want as long as it pays off my bills. Plus, he said I could always come back if it doesn't work." he shrugged.

"Wow." was the the only thing you could say. "He really said that?"

He laughed. "Not exactly, my mom is the one I have to thank for that, she talked him through it."

"Makes more sense." you hummed.

"I also told them about you."

Now, you really wanted to punch him in the balls right there and then.

"Just like you told Felix?" you huffed.

"And Chan... and Jeongin..." he saw how you were about to beat the shit out of him and he held up his hands in defense. "They figured it out by themselves, I simply confirmed their suspicions."

You rolled your eyes. "Is this why he bought me this dress to be matching with you?"

He smirked and nodded proudly. You sighed in disbelief and sat down on one of the chairs, gesturing for him to continue.

"I think you know it by now, but I'm so hopelessly in love with you."

You grunted, absolutely enraged by his behaviour. You could simply not believe how dumb of him it was to give up such an opportunity, and then tell your friends about your mistake of the previous year. And now, he really had to top it all with declaring his love for you?

"You keep being fucking unrealistic with this whole thing." you said, shaking your head in disapproval. "We have decades of rivalry between us, we were only being stupid with what we did."

He scoffed. "So last year meant nothing to you?"

"What I'm saying is that it was something that shouldn't have happened. I wanted to put a stop to it tonight." you affirmed but he didn't seem convinced.

"You're wearing the necklace." he pointed to the rose charm hanging around your neck.

You shrugged. "It was going well with the dress, that's all."

"It does, and you simply look stunning tonight." he said as he walked closer to you.

You stood up to come face to face with him. "Don't dodge the subject with your flirts, Han."

"What is stopping us, really? A career? I've already given up mine and I know for a fact that you hate your job." he said softly, getting more and more close to you.

"Our families-" you started but he interrupted you with a laugh.

"You hate your dad and I've talked to mine already. It's okay."

He hesitated, but reached his hand up to your face. By then, you didn't even know how to breathe anymore. It was the first time he touched you so intimately since that moment in the taxicab. It was as electrifying as you remembered.

"Please tell me you feel the same." he said in a whisper. "There was not a single moment where I didn't regret not trying to convince to run away with me."

"Jisung..." you breathed out.

"I won't force you into anything. If wanting to put an end to this is what you want, we'll do just that. I won't say I didn't try at least."

Your faces were millimeters apart. It was a question of time before he was going to kiss you. But you backed away.

"We can't."

And just like that, you ran away from him, leaving him alone in the room. You didn't know exactly why you did so. No matter what the reason was, you just wanted to go home. The rollercoaster he caused was too much to bear with. You didn't even say bye to Chan and you left.

The driver was still in the street, so you called him out and asked him to bring you home. He did look at you suspiciously, but obliged nonetheless. Before you knew it, you were at your front porch and the driver left you alone. You sat down, not even trying to keep your dress clean, and you cried. You weren't sad nor happy, just confused. It was a few minutes after when Jeongin joined you and engulfed you in a hug. He didn't ask what happened, but he just knew you needed someone for you at least.

"I should have said congratulations to Chan at least." you finally spoke and Jeongin allowed himself to let out a small chuckle.

"He knows you're proud of him already."

"Yeah, but it's still shitty of me." you sobbed. "And, Innie, I fucked up so bad..."

"You dumped him there, didn't you?"

Damn, this kid was good at guessing. But he did know most things about you so it was only natural he got you right on that.

"I don't even know why..." you groaned as more tears came out. "He's so... ugh, and I'm like... meh."

He cocked his head to the side, unsure if he understood what you meant. "That's a way to put it I guess?"

"I meant that he just does so much for our... whatever we have, to work out and I'm being a bitch by ditching him."

He smiled awkwardly. "I can't say you're wrong with this one."

"And what am I even going to do if this turns out to be a fiasco? I'll get fired, my dad will disown me, and I'll live off an underground musician's income?"

Jeongin winced at your reflection. "You're overthinking now..."

"I know." you grunted. "It's just... What do I do?"

You turned to look at him properly and noticed how discouraged he seemed to be with you. As you thought, he gave you a look.

"What?" you sighed.

"You know what to do, Y/N. You're just afraid." he explained but you didn't quite get it. "You've been this perfect daughter for years and you're scared of change."

"I mean, aren't we all?"

"Some are more daring than others, just like Han dared to confront his parents because he loves you."

As realization slowly crept in your mind, you buried yourself in your arms. Why did you have to be such an ass to him?

"You're saying I should go back and say I want him too?" you mumbled.

"Essentially, yeah. But like I said, you do you." he said as he patted your back. "No matter what you do, I'm sure Han will understand."

"Do you mind driving me back?" you said as you shot your head up, pouting at him.

He deadpanned at you. "You came all the way back here just to go back?"

"Yeah?" you chuckled embarrassingly.

"Alright, but go clean up your face. Your mascara didn't hold up right."

A few minutes later, you were in Jeongin's car as he drove you back to the convention center. To not cause a fuss, he went all around to the back of the building so you could walk in more discreetly.

"What if he left too?" you said in panic as you were about to leave the vehicle.

"Jeez, Y/N, just go!" he rushed you out.

You entered and arrived in an empty hallway, not creepy at all. Still, you could hear the chatter coming from the main event so you simply followed it. On your way, you came to the washrooms and heard moaning from there.

"Gross." you mumbled to yourself.

Moving on, you started to get more familiar to your surroundings when you saw the room where you had left Jisung earlier. Only now, the door was open and the lights turned off which meant he had gone back to the party probably. You finally arrived to the main room and noticed that Chan was just done with introducing his new line of products. You clapped along with the crowd and cheered loudly. He recognized your voice as he immediately moved his eyes to where you were standing. With a large grin, he thanked the audience once more and came down to crush you in a hug.

"How did I do?" he asked.

"Great..." you trailed off and he gave you a look.

"You didn't watch, right?"

"I'm sorry, Chan." you chuckled. "I... kind of ran away?"

He rolled his eyes. "Han Jisung?"

"Why the hell is everyone aware of my business?" you whined.

"He came to talk to me after you left. He's alone at the bar if you are looking for him." he laughed. "Go get your man, bestie." he said jokingly.

"I'll have to talk to you after we sort this out." you said in a warning voice before leaving to go to the bar.

When you finally got to him, you kept a distance to observe what state he was in. Hair disheveled, tie loosened, he was mixing his margarita with a straw and started blankly in the void. You felt bad, even worse than you expected.

"I would have never thought of you as one for the margaritas." you spoke up.

At the sound of your voice, he looked around in confusion until he noticed you were standing behind him. He shook his head as a chuckle left his mouth.

"Are you quoting me now?"

You took the spot next to him and stole the drink from his grip. "Perhaps I am." you shrugged and then took a sip of the drink. "I like the ones from the island better."

"So picky." he huffed. "I'm sorry for being so bold earlier."

You shook your head violently. "Stop, I'm the one at fault."

He tilted his head from side to side. "Not really. I can't blame you for not wanting the same thing as me."

"But that's the thing..." you said before taking a deep breath. "I want the same thing as you."

He stared at you for a moment. The lack of response on his part quite frightened you. After a bit, he finally moved as he placed his hand on your forehead.

"Are you okay?"

Frowning, you looked at him, perplexed. "I am..."

He retrieved his hand away. "You're being for real? Don't give me false hope, I swear I'll axe you if you do so."

You laughed. "I'm serious. Look, Jisung, I haven't been fair to you."

He shook his head as he took your face by the jaw. "Don't say that."

"You know I'm right. I led you on, kept denying your attention and I literally ran away from you." you listed out. "I think I'm in love with you too. I was just stupid enough to never admit it to myself."

You had never seen him smile this much. "You're fucking stubborn, yeah." he grinned. "But I love that about you. Plus, playing hard to get is quite attractive."

You scoffed. "Fuck off, I'll go back to Felix."

You were about to walk away but he grabbed you by the wrist to stop you. Gently, he pulled you closer by the neck and kissed you. He. Kissed. You. In front of literally everyone. You heard gasps of shock, but surprisingly, you didn't care. All that mattered was that you had your lips on Jisung again. The butterflies you had suppressed for months had come back at an overwhelming level but you were happy.

"Y/N L/N!" you heard your father yell.

Separating yourself from Jisung, you rolled your eyes as you came face to face with a furious man.

"Hey." you smiled in an exaggerated manner.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, young lady. I made sure during your whole life you'd be ready to take over my place, and you're pulling this show tonight?"

You let out a groan. "Really? A show? I get you have built a reputation and shit for years, but for what? Really, come to think of it, this whole rivalry thing is ridiculous. Yeah, sure, they sued us, but heck, we got over it."

He huffed in disbelief. "It had to be a Han, uh?"

Dropping your shoulders, you didn't even know what to say anymore. "He's not like that. You know what? I don't even know why I'm fighting you over this." you started to get annoyed.

"It's okay, Y/N-" Jisung started, but you went off again which interrupted him.

"No, Jisung, this is not okay. I've done literally everything to go according to this man's expectations and I can't even be happy for one moment?"

By then, more people had gathered around the scene. Some of them whispered among themselves, others just watched in pure shock. Then, Jisung's parents arrived and stood next to your dad. This was going so well...

"You two are okay with this?" you father asked the Han.

Jisung's mother simply shrugged. "I mean, she seems to make our son happy." she said in a small voice making your father turn to Mr. Han to incite him to speak his thoughts out.

He did the same as his wife, not sure on what to answer. "I'd have to say, Mr. L/N, that your daughter is quite a remarkable woman. I think our son is in good hands."

"I agree." you heard Chan speak up somewhere in the crowd. You finally spotted him and sent him a look as to ask what he was doing. "I think it is time to tone down the hard feelings in my opinion, Mr. L/N." he patted your father's back.

"Chan-" Jisung started but the glare he received from him shut him up real quick.

"I think this is a good way to put an end to this competition between your families, no? Anyhow, I think they make a fine couple." he continued and then held his glass up. "How about we go on with our evening?"

Chan had power, which meant everyone were taking his opinion into consideration. If he said something was fine, it meant it was fine. If he wanted to move on from something, then people moved on. This was exactly what happened. As the mass of people dispersed themselves, you saw your dad walk further away with Jisung's parents, seemingly discussing about what they just saw. As for Chan, he joined the pair of you.

"That's quite a show stealer you put up just now." he laughed.

"Thank you, Chan." you said sincerely.

Jisung rubbed your back gently as he nodded with you. "Yeah, thank you for that."

Chan shrugged. "I'm rooting for you two, but don't put yourselves in trouble too much because I can't save you all the time."

"We won't." Jisung said as he looked at you. "I think we can manage from now."

eleven. - epilogue -

"Time's up."

Looking up from your laptop, you had daggers in your eyes as you stared at Jisung through your glasses. He was already fully dressed with black pants and a beige coat as he tapped his foot on the floor in an impatient way.

"I'm almost done." you said as you focused back on your screen.

He let out a groan. "Y/N, love."

"It won't take long." you argued, not taking your eyes off as you typed aggressively on your keyboard.

"You said the same thing ten minutes ago and we have a flight in..." he checked the time on his phone. "two hours now." he deadpanned at you.

"I just have to send this to Chan real quick."

"Exactly, it's Chan so no pressure."

He came to your dining table and snatched your computer away from you. While you reached out to get it back, he saved your file and closed it off before putting it in his bag.

"Han Jisung." you said in a stern voice.

"Thank me later, baby." he kissed your cheek but you refused to fall for it.

"I have to send it over."

"I know, love, but Jeongin had this handled, no? Just trust him on this one."

Still pouting, you took your coat and put it on before grabbing your luggage. "I shouldn't have agreed to go on this stupid trip."

"Don't be like this, you love seeing Felix." he snickered.

"I don't mind going to Australia." you argued as you approached the front door of your house. "I mind not getting my work done in time."

"Love, you're literally weeks ahead for everything." he sighed loudly.

You walked to your car and started to load it with your bags. While Jisung went back inside to get more of your belongings, you received a call. Putting the phone between your ear and your shoulder, you answered.

"What's up, Hyunjin?" you said cheerfully.

"Someone's in a good mood." he laughed. "I take it that you're leaving soon?"

"Yeah, we're about to go to the airport. How is it there?"

"I love it, really. Felix rented a house for us so we can all stay together." he said excitedly. "I was calling to ask you something about the report you filled out this morning, actually."

You frowned. "What about it?"

"Why didn't you mark Jisung's name? For the collaborator, I mean."

You grunted. "Shit, I totally forgot. I'm sorry, I'm still not used to him being back in the business."

"All good." he chuckled. "Though I need it by the end of the week. Otherwise, my application can be denied."

"I know, I'll do it as soon as I get there."

Jisung looked at you curiously as he stood next to the car with the door opened, waiting for you to be done.

"No stress." Hyunjin answered.

"I have to go now, but I can't wait to see you two!"

"See you in a few hours!"

Hanging up, you and Jisung got in the car and he drove away from your house. As you hummed along the music, you suddenly remembered something. Turning the volume down, you looked at your fiancé in panic.

"Tell me you locked the door."

He rolled his eyes. "I did, stop being so stressed."

"I'm sorry, jeez." you said in a defensive tone.

"This trip is for us to take a break from work, just like the good old days. Relax a little, can you do that for me?"

You absolutely hated it when he used his soft loving tone. You could simply not resist it. With a sigh, you nodded your head and you grabbed his hand that was hanging between your two seats.

"You're right."

He smiled and started to play with your hand, fiddling with your engagement ring. "Plus, we get to visit the venue for the wedding." he said before kissing your hand.

"Felix better had chosen a good spot." you huffed.

"If you don't like it, we can visit some more." he shrugged.

You shook your head as a no. "I just want a place to marry you."

"You're sweet, baby, but I don't want to get married in a wrecked place." he laughed.

"Fair enough."

You said that, but in all honesty, you just wanted to marry him right away. Him. The man you believed to hate until he turned your world upside down. The man who was ready to give up everything just to be with you. If this is not husband material, you don't know what it is. But one thing for sure, you wanted to be with him for the rest of your life.

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