#never written the first fic for a pairing before
Text
𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬' 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓 (𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠)
SYNOPSIS: You and Lee Heeseung are pursuing the same major, and the two of you have always been the top students in your cohort throughout your university years. Although you have never exactly interacted with him, sometimes you catch him staring at you, and the intensity of his gaze is enough to knock the breath out of you. After being heavily involved with his comrades, you should be staying away from him, you should be avoiding him at all costs, and yet, in your vulnerable state, including the lust clouding your better judgement, you fall for his dark allure, allowing him to breach through the walls that you built to protect yourself from them.
PAIRING: non!idols enha hyung line x fem!reader, heeseung x fem!reader
GENRE: 18+ (mdni), semi-college au, adulthood, reverse harem, dark themes.
WARNINGS: mentions of christianity, smoking, alcohol consumption, assault, mild violence, profanities, yandere, manipulation, corruption, toxicity, dubcon theme, unprotected sex (no!), mean&softdom!hee (he’s unpredictable), name calling (slut, sweetheart, pretty, baby), manhandling, degradation, car sex, slight bondage, gagging, choking, dry humping, blowjob, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, crying, squirting, creampies, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hee is very much obsessed with reader.
WORD COUNT: 35.8k
FEATURING: enha maknae line, txt, le sserafim, ive, aespa.
DISCLAIMER: this fic is inspired by devil's night series written by penelope douglas! also, i am not a Christian, and i didn't bother to do thorough research on the religion, so pardon any false facts or errors.
PART 1, PART 2, PART 3.1, PART 3.2, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7
✘ SERIES MASTERLIST ✘
PLAYLIST: Infected - Sickick, Triggered - Chase Atlantic, Okay - Chase Atlantic, House of Ballons - The Weeknd, Lights Down Low - Maejor, Wet the bed - Chris Brown, Under the influence - Chris Brown, Drive You Insane - Daniel Di Angelo, Talk Dirty - Daniel Di Angelo, So It Goes - Taylor Swift, Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey.
RUBY'S NOTE: there are still flaws here and there, so if you need any clarification from me due to how poorly i executed the plot and etc, you may do so! do pardon how lengthy it is! also, it turns out smuts are actually not my expertise (i struggled sm) :skull face:
The radiance deriving from the moonlight casts a gentle glow in the room, allowing him to gaze upon the beautiful serenity on your face as he remains stationary by the window sill with his folded arms across his chest, ostensibly posing as a bodyguard to obviate any danger from reaching you.
Danger? The lovely irony elicits a lowly scoff from him, yet the corner of his lips curves upward into a smirk. Indeed, it is lovely, because there is a potential danger at this very moment that could inflict harm on you as you have fallen into the realm of dreams, rendering you wholly vulnerable and defenceless.
The embodiment of danger ─ Lee Heeseung.
Fortunately for you, Heeseung has no intention of harming you, not that he ever had. A single movement from you as you stir lightly in your slumber captures his keen eyes, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest before re-centering his attention on your angelic face.
Without a doubt, your divine beauty captivated his attention from the moment he saw you entering the auditorium on your first day as a freshman, and still do ─ your naturally long dark lashes fluttering with your eyes gleaming genuine interest whenever your attention is fixed on something or someone, the dimples on your cheeks whenever you smile, your luscious pink lips that entice him to kiss you, your soft wavy hair that is currently spread out in tendrils-like, and just every inch and part of your contour is perfect to him.
You are perfect in his eyes. So, so perfect, and so his…
In the beginning, it started out as an infatuation, completely ensnared by your captivating beauty and the regal ambience you exuded in the way you carried yourself with grace, while his eyes would follow you wherever you were in his range. He even vividly memorised your habits, which he found endearing, like how you would fiddle with the silver cross and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth whenever you grew nervous or simply worried over your results, and nevertheless, he knew that you would always excel.
You are the epitome of beauty with a brain, as you truly are. Oh, you are unequivocally his dream woman.
Unlike his peers, Heeseung has never found any issue with your reputation as Crestview Meadow’s good girl or renowned for being faithful and dutiful to your religion. Rather, he loves the purity glowing in the way you smile, your sparkling eyes, your infectious laughter, your gentle touch, and just anything you do.
From there, the infatuation evolved into something so profound that he knew he couldn’t afford to let you go, even after graduating from university. He yearns for his presence to be permanently etched in your life. He is not exaggerating when he says that all hell will break loose if he ever loses you. No, he feels that he might actually die at the grim possibility of losing you.
To this day, it astounds him that he manages to abstain from pursuing you first after all these years of his yearning and lust for you, especially when the light in you is a constant magnetic allure to his darkness. Even now, a gravitational pull seems to draw him closer and closer to you until he finally halts his steps, looming over you next to the bed.
Heeseung crouches down on one knee, his eyes remaining fixated on your serene countenance as he grabs strands of your hair that feel soft on his callous hand. His touch is one of reverence as he raises your strands in his possession to his nose, inbreathing the fragrance of your shampoo with his eyes fluttering close.
Even your scent is enough to tame his raging tenebrosity. Bringing your soft strands to his lips as he kisses them daintily, a distinct recollection comes to light ─ one that has the darkness perilously lurking in the trenches of his wreckage mind.
“Have you called for me, father?”
Heeseung has his hands clasped behind his back while his cold countenance is impassive and his stance embodies that of a soldier ready to serve, standing across from his father, who remains seated in his ebony swivel chair.
“Yes.” The elder ceases his engrossment in the paperwork before he finally diverts his attention to his youngest son, meeting Heeseung’s steely eyes that reflect the same as his. “I heard that Devil’s Night will commence in a few days' time. How is the preparation coming along?”
“Everything is going smoothly. You don’t have to concern yourself with anything regarding Devil’s Night, father.” A certain edge in Heeseung’s tone is not dismissed by the elder, amplifying the palpable tension between them. “As for the roadblocks, we might have to expand─”
“Son.” The sheer authority of a single interruption is enough to silence Heeseung, especially when he notices his father’s grim countenance. “The sole reason I called you here is because of Y/N Kang.”
Heeseung’s eyebrows arch inquisitively while his frown deepens at the fact that his father knows of your existence. “How do you know her?”
“It doesn’t matter how I know her.” His father dodges the question deftly, overshadowed by the austerity in his manner. “Under no circumstances should you approach the girl, let alone foist terror on her.”
Heeseung blinks his eyes, clearly taken aback by the elder’s fierce conviction. “All this time, you have never interfered in any of my business, so why now?”
Heeseung’s father heaves a sigh as he rubs his temple. “Son─”
“For that matter, you’ve never cared enough about me. I don’t see why it is necessary for you to involve yourself in whatever I do now.” Heeseung cuts him off sharply before he scoffs out a smirk, staring at him condescendingly. “And now that you’ve mentioned Y/N Kang, perhaps I should invite her to Devil’s Night and include her in the hunt.”
“Lee Heeseung!” The resounding thud due to both palms on the surface of the mahogany table as well as the patent wrath emanating from the elder doesn’t deter Heeseung the slightest, but rather, this only fuels Heeseung’s resolution to go against his father’s audacious warning.
“Do enlighten me, father.” Mockery drips from Heeseung’s tone. “What relations do you have with Y/N? And why her out of all people?”
The fleeting sentiment flickers in his father’s eyes are intelligible, to which Heeseung’s piqued curiosity reaches its peak. Why in the world would his father bear such guilt?
“She’s the daughter of─” His father pauses, and the hesitation in his silence is crystal clear. He shakes his head before allowing the austerity to patch up on his countenance. “This is a direct order, not only as your father but as the chief, that under no circumstances should you prey on Y/N Kang. She is better off without you having to impose your corruption on her.”
“Oh, but on the contrary, I will.” Heeseung unfurls a cynical smile on his lips, his tone holding dark promises that not even his father can decipher the conniving schemes he may or may not possibly have formulated in his complex mind. “Even if you hadn’t mentioned her, it wouldn’t change the fact that she would eventually be preyed on by us. Oh, and father?”
Heeseung looms ominously over his father’s seated figure, his dark gaze penetrating into the elder’s, allowing him to catch a glimpse of unadulterated malignance in his eyes. “I’ll turn a blind eye to your audacity in ordering me to stay away from my beloved, since after all, you’re my father.”
“Lee Heeseung─”
“Y/N Kang belongs to me.” Heeseung cuts him off with a growl. “She will be mine, one way or another, and it would be wise for you to avoid meddling with my business, especially involving my beloved.”
“Son, listen to me.” Even as his father uses his authoritarian tone, it isn’t enough to dissuade Heeseung as the latter begins to make his departure from his father’s office, leaving the elder to resort to an option that is rather perilous. “Fine. Do you really want to know the reason? It’s because I’d hate for Y/N to end up like that poor girl.”
Just as the elder expected, Heeseung comes to an abrupt halt, his body flinches visibly as though a trigger button has set off within him. “What?” His tone denotes a warning, akin to a ticking bomb.
His father heaves a deep sigh as he rises from his seat. “This is the exact same pattern as it was before. Did you or did you not develop an obsession for the girl just as you do now with Y/N? Feel free to prove me wrong.”
Heeseung curls his hand into a fist while the other clutches the handle in a deadly grip. “You’re wrong, father.”
“Am I, really? As far as I’m aware, things won’t ever bode well for anyone closely associated with you and your friends.”
“Shut up.” Heeseung snarls coldly, the anger is brimming in his veins. “You know nothing.”
But the elder continues, “Can’t you see, son? For as long as you remain unchanged with your corruptive tendencies, you destroy everything you touch! Just look at what happened three years ag─”
In a blink of an eye, Heeseung swiftly throws the melee knife as it cuts through the air sharply, gusting past his father’s head and impaling on the bulletin board behind the elder.
Despite his father having expected such unpredictable stunts from his son, his heart hammers violently against his chest. If Heeseung had missed, the elder would have probably lost an eye.
“You know better than to bring that up.” Heeseung’s dark eyes are void of any forbearance, while his tone is eerily calm. His eyes flicker at his melee knife before returning to his father’s unwavering gaze, and a smirk tugs at his lips. “And next time, I won’t miss it.”
Even the mere thought of his father is enough to kindle his burning resentment towards him. Oh, Heeseung loathes his father for as long as he can remember.
Despite the fact that his father has an esteemed reputation as the Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, almost everyone is fearful of him purely out of reverence, well, except Heeseung anyway.
To Heeseung, he sees his father as nothing more than a pathetic excuse of a husband to his wife. Correction: ex-wife, aka Heeseung’s biological mother. His parents divorced and went their separate ways when he was twelve, and his older brothers were sixteen. His father won custody over them, resulting in his mother leaving them behind. At that point in time, Heeseung didn’t understand the rationale behind their divorce since his parents used to be a loving couple, and so he began to develop such abhorrence for his father, especially when the elder decided to marry someone new a few months later.
Most importantly, Heeseung loathes that his father’s morality and advocacy do nothing to change the fact that the elder remains a hypocrite after the discovery Heeseung uncovered. It is also the exact reason why he has every intention of obscuring the truth from you, because the said discovery obliquely involves you.
A single movement from you pulls him out of his rumination, prompting his eyes to settle on your figure as you stir in your slumber. He holds your strands delicately, inbreathing your fragrance, which has been imprinted on his mind, once more before he decides to move away from you.
The longer your vulnerability remains at his disposal, the harder it is for him to defy his depravity.
As Heeseung saunters towards the ajar door, it is slowly being pushed open, revealing Jay. The latter doesn’t look entirely surprised at Heeseung’s presence in his room, as his face is devoid of emotion.
When their eyes meet, there is an unspoken understanding between them. Giving Heeseung a firm head nod, Jay proceeds to amble past him as he heads towards you.
“Jay?” Your slumberous voice prompts Heeseung to look over his shoulder, watching as Jay adjusts himself to settle next to you while your hand sluggishly reaches out for Jay.
“I’m here, baby.” Jay whispers affectionately as he grabs your hand.
Heeseung silently watches the two of you, seeing how adorably whiny you are amidst your somnolence, with your limbs now tangled with his as Jay cradles you close to his chest.
Oddly enough, Heeseung doesn’t harbour any raging jealousy or resentment towards his best friends, whom you have grown unmistakably attached to. Sure, in the very beginning, he utterly despised every stare at you from the other guys and bore murderous thoughts of gauging out their eyeballs, but now, when it comes to his best friends, he doesn’t feel as deeply murderous.
Perhaps it has to do with the fact that they have successfully ensnared you with their distinctive dark allures, tainting you with their corruption, as everything is going according to how he envisioned it, which he is pleased with.
All that is left is the very devil, as it remains in its slumber, who has long since waited for you.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
The monotony of keyboards collectively typing away is teeming in the cold, sterile examination hall, with each journalism major in their assigned seats that are meticulously arrayed. Minutes have stretched into an hour or so, and thus, your immersion begins to wane as your mind drifts off to the thought of the very three men whom you are undoubtedly head over heels for.
Just yesterday, Sunghoon and Jake managed to spend time together with you, almost involving something rather blasphemous, until Jay decided to steal you away from them, which resulted in their squabbling. Now, you wonder if there will ever be a moment where they will set aside their petty dispute over who gets to have you in his possession before the others get their turn.
Your eyes begin to subconsciously wander to your fellow peers across the hall before they stop at Wonyoung and Winter, who are seated in the same row from across the hall. Instinctively, the familiar sadness coils around your heart before a stab of regret comes.
Although it has only been a few days since you last spoke, it feels as though it’s been one miserable year instead. A part of you still harbours resentment for their hypocrisy, but the sensible part of you yearns for your best friends.
You know for yourself that your close association with the leaders is the reason why your best friends have begun hating you, but perhaps there are some truths in their words. You have changed, and you admit that at times you don't even recognise yourself. So how dare you even bear a single yearning thought about the ones who only wanted the best for you?
You shake your head before deciding to direct your focus on finishing off the last paragraph, but your eyes betray your focal point as they sweep over to the guy adorned in a familiar black cap, and to make it worse, he’s seated across from you.
The only guy who has ever been academically on par with you consistently throughout your university years, and the one who daunts you the most, is none other than Lee Heeseung.
You should really look away before he catches you overtly staring at his side profile, but how can you not? Especially when the bill shadowing his striking features does nothing to veil his handsomeness.
Your eyes begin to trace the outline of his features, admiring his perfectly chiselled nose bridge, his dark lashes, his lips, whose bottom lip is adorned with a metal lip ring, silver studs and drop earrings adorning his earlobes, and the black ink tattooed in his skin at the side of his neck with an interesting design of an intricate chipped sword.
Heat creeps up from your neck to your ears. He is undeniably a sinful sight for you to behold.
It appears that he must have felt the intensity of your gaze on him as he turns his head only to lock your eyes with his, and that is also when realisation hits you like a brick of the very reason why you have always felt perturbed around him.
The intensity of his dark eyes alone is enough to knock the breath out of you. You want to look away, but it is as if his allure manages to paralyse you. Your eyes flicker down at a movement of his lips, unfurling a soft smirk, and your heart does a tiny leap.
Damn it. That’s the thing about Heeseung ─ even his bare minimum manages to have an impact on you. Despite his notorious reputation, his dark yet mystifying allure always seems to draw people in, and as much as you hate to admit it, he draws you in just the same, like a moth to a flame.
However, unlike the others, you refused to indulge your inquisitiveness and chose the safest route, which involved keeping your distance from Heeseung. That is, until recently. You recall his touch on your skin and how he whispered in your ear the other day when you were seeking Jay. You shudder lightly. Everything about him screams devilish.
For a moment there, you knew that you wanted him to touch you in the way his best friends do, despite the danger beneath his touch.
You force yourself to break eye contact with him and finally focus on typing away your last paragraph before submitting your exam paper online. Just like some of your fellow peers, you begin packing your belongings into your bag, trying your utmost to ignore Heeseung’s invasive gaze on your figure that continues to unnerve you.
In your peripheral vision, you see him standing up as he too has submitted his, and so your every movement becomes rapid before you finally navigate your way to the exit, walking past other students who are probably finding your briskness odd.
You are too inattentive to your surroundings to even feel self-conscious of the stares you are getting, only recalling Heeseung’s predatory gaze earlier, and just the thought of Heeseung alone manages to plague your cluttered mind.
It’s not just his predatory gaze, but it’s the fact that you feel as though he is able to read through you and invade every corner of your mind, uncovering any secrets you have and unravelling them one by one.
You have long since admitted that Lee Heeseung, the son of the esteemed Chief of Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, terrifies you despite the fact that his handsomeness often enthrals you, especially after putting the final piece of the puzzle that he is indeed one of your predators on Devil’s Night. White.
Although you have every intention of avoiding being closely associated with Heeseung, you know that it is impossible, especially when he lives in the same palace as the others. Plus, you have a gut-twisting feeling that he’ll begin his approach just as his best friends did.
Besides, your very first mistake was attending Devil’s Night, where you finally interacted with the mask version of him. Your second mistake was allowing him to touch you and invade your personal space.
You hope you’ll be proven wrong and that you’re just being delusional to think he would ever waste his time on you. You already have too much on your plate ─ the unresolved issue with your parents and your best friends, your undeclared relationship status with the three guys, and the anonymous person….
‘Ding!’
You whip out your phone from your pocket, and a frown automatically pulls at your lips as you begin to read his text. Just when you thought he wouldn’t send you anymore cryptic messages.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Congratulations on finishing your last exam. Any plans for vacation?
A scoff falls past your lips. Unbelievable. Not only did his last text still give you the creeps, but the audacity of him to act as if nothing happened. Each tap on your phone screen gets progressively more aggressive as you type out your response, expressing your irritation for him.
Y/N: I didn’t realise you could start casually texting me as if you were my friend. If you still don’t get the hint, leave me alone, Heeseung.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Still insisting that I’m Heeseung?
Y/N: Unless you prove to me that you’re not him, then yes.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I posed no threat to you.
Y/N: Then what are you? Are you a friend or a foe?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can be your friend only if you choose to be cooperative with me. Besides, don’t you need one? Considering your friends have already abandoned you.
Your nose flares slightly, angered by the fact that he hits your sore spot.
Y/N: I don’t need you as my friend.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: But you do need me, especially when it concerns your safety.
Just before you have the intention to block him, you halt, now standing in the busy forum with bustling students that fade into insignificance as his words strike a chord in you.
Y/N: My safety? Why do you care so much about me?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Like I said, before, you’re a nice girl, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.
You frown, confusion plastered on your face as you slowly amble forward. You don’t recall him telling you that.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Plus, I don’t want history to repeat itself.
Y/N: What kind of history?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: You don’t know? Ah, right. Everything was swept under the rug.
Y/N: Just get straight to the point or I’ll block you for real.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: For now, you only need to know that they’re not good people.
Y/N: And you are?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I never said anything about me being good, but one thing is for sure is that I’m not the bad guy in your story, sweetheart.
Y/N: I’m getting really annoyed at you. You keep beating around the bush and playing with words, but I still don’t feel at ease despite your declaration.
You wait for his response, but nothing happens. You grit your teeth in frustration, desperate for answers to allay your inner turmoil.
Y/N: Stop messing with my sanity
But before you can press send, you bump into someone’s shoulder, causing an imbalance for you as you almost fall back if it weren’t for reflexive hands steadying you.
There is a flicker of surprise in your eye as you stare at him while your cheeks flush pink. “Beomgyu.”
Beomgyu eyes you concernedly, still holding you by the waist. “Are you alright? I’m sorry for bumping into you.”
“No, it was my fault.” You exhale, chuckling nervously as you regain composure.
Beomgyu seems to study your expression while you begin to feel self-conscious of his invasive eyes, reminding you of Heeseung earlier. “Something on your mind? You were looking down at your phone the whole time.”
Your eyebrow arches inquisitively. “Were you watching me?”
Something so cryptic flickers in his eyes fleetingly before a soft smile forms on his charming countenance. “No. I just have quick observational skills.” He merely jests.
“Oh,” Even conversing with Beomgyu does nothing to pull you out of your distraught thoughts. You offer him a nimble smile. “Sorry about that. I have to go.”
“Wait.” Beomgyu’s hand latches around your wrist just as you brush past him. When you look at him, he appears rather bashful. “Since exam season is over, do you have anything in your schedule?”
“Maybe.” You answer slowly, uncertain if you actually do have plans other than rotting in your bed. “Why?”
“Well, the guys and I will be going for a two day, one night staycation at the water play park near the resort of Yeonjun’s parents’ business tomorrow.” Beomgyu looks hopeful, and you can almost imagine his ears perking up in a puppy-like way. “Do you want to join us?”
“Oh, that’s so thoughtful of you.” Nervousness seeps through your chuckles. “But I’m not sure─”
“She’s not available.” A familiar voice startles you, followed by his arm wrapping around your shoulder, which has you turning your head and staring at him in disbelief while he remains casual about it as he maintains eye contact with Beomgyu. “She’ll be with me for the next few days or so.”
What?! You are certain he is able to hear your disbelieving scream echoing in your head as your eyes narrow at the smirk playing on his lips.
Unbeknownst to you, Beomgyu tucks his clenched fist into his pocket while adorning an amiable grin at his close friend. “Ah, that’s too bad, then. I would have invited you and the others to join us too, Heeseung.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” If anything, Heeseung is most definitely not apologetic in his nonchalance.
Beomgyu offers the two of you a tight smile. “Have fun, you two. Gotta enjoy our deserving vacation.”
Heeseung reciprocates with a cold smirk. “Damn right, we do.”
“Wait─” But your voice is unheard as Heeseung pulls you with him, brushing past Beomgyu. The space between you and Heeseung is practically nonexistent, allowing you to get a whiff of his strong cologne.
First of all, you are greatly annoyed by Heeseung’s brazen intervention. Second of all, he smells so good that you want to bask in his scent. Third of all, what the hell just happened?
“Heeseung.” You try to get his attention, but the guy seems persistent in dragging you with him until you finally gain full awareness of your surroundings, noticing that you’re in the campus parking lot.
The familiar sight of his sleek black Audi greets you as he slowly releases you from his possession. Before you can finally say your piece, his gesture of opening the passenger door for you renders you flabbergasted, despite the confusion lingering in your mind.
You blink your eyes at him while his face is devoid of emotion. “Get in.”
He sounds nothing like how he conversed with Beomgyu earlier. His voice is a low rumble that sends involuntary shivers down your spine. His tone indicates no objections from you. His penetrating dark eyes into yours is a challenge for you if you dare to defy him.
Refusing to show him that you are greatly intimidated by him, your titled chin is a hint of defiance as you maintain eye contact with him, but even you know for yourself that your shaky pupils are out of fear for the glowering male.
“No.”
“No?” Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at you, finding your resistance oddly adorable. He scoffs out a chuckle, his lips upturning a smirk, while his tongue glides across his bottom lip as he moves closer to you. “I wasn’t asking, sweetheart.”
You try your utmost not to falter at the close proximity between your faces while the tip of his hat nearly hovers over your head with how he is leaning down to you. The danger lurking in his eyes sends your heart palpating. But you remain adamant. “And why should I listen to you?”
“Because I said so.” Heeseung says so softly, a deception you recognise. The smirk remains on his lips. “Come on, now. Don’t disappoint me. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
The moment his thumb touches your bottom lip, it feels like you have lost the ability to speak. With his dark eyes pinning yours, he caresses your lip sensually while your head is spinning due to the effect he has on you.
“Get inside the car now, sweetheart.”
This time, you decide to heed his words, listening to your better instinct. Settling in the passenger seat awkwardly, you watch as he closes the door and proceeds to switch on the ignition.
With both hands on the leathered steering wheel, he takes a quick glance at you, noticing your discomfort in the stiffness of your body language while you gaze at the window before he refocuses on driving out of the campus parking lot.
“Relax. It’s not like I’m driving you to your doom.” His lighthearted comment does nothing to alleviate the taut tension in your shoulders. “Also, you should keep your distance from Beomgyu.”
A disbelieving scoff leaves your lips as you finally direct your focus on him. “And why should I listen to you?”
Heeseung’s demeanour remains indifferent, his eyes not meeting yours. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
“You don’t know what’s good for me.” You retort rather haughtily, but the second his dark eyes meet yours fleeting as the vehicle comes to a stop, you deflate, fiddling mindlessly with your fingers as your hands are resting on your lap. “Sorry.”
You inwardly wince at your feeble apology when you know that you have nothing to apologise for, yet you did anyway. You lower your gaze. “You said to trust you, but I don’t trust you in the slightest, Heeseung. For that matter, we’re not even friends.”
“You’re right. We’re not friends.” His fingers grip your chin firmly, titling your head up. A soft smile unfurls on his lips. “Because you’re more than that to me.”
“What do you mean?” You ask quietly, confusion wrapping around your head, yet at the same time, you kind of have a sense of what he meant. A part of you is just afraid to acknowledge it, knowing that if you do, you’ll most likely be inclined to succumb to his dark magnetic allure.
Heeseung simply disregards your question as he redirects his attention on the road, now driving on the familiar route to your dormitory. As much as you want him to elaborate himself, you decide to save your energy, resorting to silence and looking forward to keeping your distance from him.
Finally arriving at the entrance point, you unbuckle your seatbelt, eager to flee from him, but as you attempt to open the door, it remains locked. You shoot him a perplexing stare. “Heeseung.”
“I won’t unlock it unless you have to give me your word that you’ll keep your distance from Beomgyu first.” Heeseung admonishes, his tone indicating no room for refusal.
“But why?” You press, unconcealing your frustration. “He has been nothing but nice to me. What do you even have against him? I thought he’s your close friend.”
The sentiments glinting in his eyes are indecipherable, leaving you to wonder about the complexity of his mind. “He’s not someone you should be around with every so often.” He states calmly.
“Oh, and you are?” You ask sardonically, mustering a smile that displays your sarcasm. “Seriously, Heeseung, I don’t know what makes you think that I would listen to you, but if this is you being concerned for me, don’t be. We don’t even have any relation to each other. So you can drop this pretence of yours, because I’m not about to fall for whatever trap you set up.”
Cold silence shrouds both of you as you remain in a heated staring contest with him before you spot a movement, though subtle. Just the slightest movement of his jaw clenching is what it takes for you to discern his annoyance for you before trailing your eyes back to his dark ones. You swallow harshly, moistening your dry throat.
“Heeseung─”
“You should go.”
The sound of the door unlocking startles you. You look at him, noticing him turning his head away from you. Oddly, guilt strings in your heart at the probability of hurting Heeseung with your words.
“Fine, I’ll keep my distance from Beomgyu.” You find yourself acquiescing, and you genuinely have no idea why, but maybe you’d hate for Heeseung to remain disappointed in you. Upon receiving no response from him, you huff pettily. “Thanks for the ride, anyway.” You mutter dryly as you open the door.
Just as your foot steps out of the car, his voice pulls you back. “You should stay over at the palace since we’re on a long break before graduation. Plus, I’m sure the guys will be thrilled to have you there.”
You look over your shoulder, a mask of indifference on his face. “Can I, really?”
Heeseung hums lazily, the corner of his lips tipping up a smirk. “Sweetheart, you are more than welcome. Besides, the closer you are to us, the better.”
Something stirs in your tummy. “I’ll think about it.”
“Please do, and I hope you’ll make your decision soon.” Heeseung takes you by surprise as he grabs your hand tenderly and raises it up to plant a gentle kiss on your knuckle, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. “Even better if you decide to show up by the entrance gate tonight.”
“Hee...” His name is uttered in a whisper as you watch him press a kiss on your fingertip. You were right. His pink lips feel so soft.
“I’m sure you must’ve felt so lonely in your dorm.” Heeseung states knowingly, still holding your hand tenderly. As he places one last yet sensual kiss on your palm, your heart flutters at his darkened eyes pinning yours and the smirk curving at his lips. “At the palace, you won’t ever have to feel so alone, because you have us to give you whatever you need, pretty girl.”
Any negative thoughts you have about Heeseung instantly dissipate as you succumb to his magnetic allure. Disappointment seeps through you at the loss of his touch.
“Go on, pretty.” If you told your freshman self that in a few years, your rival would call you pretty, she wouldn’t believe it.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
Heeseung was right. Ever since your association with the leaders has been divulged, it ensued to sever your friendship with your friends, including the ones whom you thought would be okay with the alteration in you, and thus, you began to feel a profound sense of loneliness.
Initially, you didn’t want to admit that you had missed your girl companionships, but what Heeseung said to you earlier struck a chord in you. Damn right, you feel lonely. How could you not be when your roommates often had the other girls over for dinner or simply fun hangouts? Or when your roommates were huddled on the couch as they watched some dramas. You used to do all of that with them, minus the drinking session.
Of course, you could’ve joined them and pushed your ego aside, but what held you back was the not-so-discreet stares and even glares from the girls whenever you went out of your room to grab something from the fridge or simply the audacious sight of you in their vision.
Just like earlier, when Karina, Yunjin, and Wonyoung were gathered by the kitchen island, laughter filling the air promptly ceased and hostility returned at the sight of you walking past them.
Did it hurt? Yeah, it did, but your face often remained devoid of emotions, contradicting the sentimentality that ached in your heart. Perhaps what hurts you the most is the fact that they will always be fine with or without you. Heck, they even look happier now that you’re out of the picture.
Hence, it is exactly why the firm decision you made leads you to the very palace you have grown rather fondly attached to, despite the traumatic memories of Devil’s Night that are embedded in your mind.
You press on the button cemented on the veneered wall next to the grand golden gates for the second time before looking up at the outdoor CCTV camera and raising your hand to give it an awkward wave while a sheepish smile forms on your lips.
Nevermind the fact that you look like an idiot at the moment. You hope that at least someone is inspecting through this CCTV camera since your impatience denotes your avidity for seeing the three men who now occupy your mind and heart.
Your lips flatten as the gate remains unopened, but before you can press the button for the third time, your ears perk up at the sound of blaring exhausts emanating from motorbikes, prompting you to turn around just to see three bikers approaching the gate.
Naturally, you assume that they’re Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, but your excitement dwindles as soon as you are able to distinguish their figures while one of them pushes up his visor. Your shoulders go slouched, crestfallen.
“Why the long face, darling?” Sunoo’s fox-like eyes meet yours, his tone a teasing taunt. “Disappointed that we’re not the ones you thought we were?”
You shift uncomfortably as their attention is fixed on you. Deciding to be courteous, you offer Sunoo a small yet wry smile in response.
“What are you doing here?” Riki’s deep voice is conspicuous despite the unremitting blaring of their engine’s exhaust.
After a brief silence, you begin to speak up. A tinge of nervousness is evident in your tone. “Heeseung said I was welcome to stay over, so here I am.” You smile awkwardly, uncertain of the expression plastered on their faces due to their helmets.
Jungwon pushes his visor up, allowing you to meet his striking feline-like eyes. “Heeseung, huh?” In the way he speaks, you can discern his melding of curiosity and mischief.
“Heeseung and the others are not back yet.” Sunoo informs you as he releases his grip from the clutches to adjust his fingerless black gloves, leaning back slightly. “You should’ve called and informed them of your coming here.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You mumble as your lips go pouty, something rather habitual whenever you feel sulky. You become startled at the tolling sound of the gates opening.
“Come on, then.” Jungwon makes a gesture, beckoning you over to him. “You’re lucky we have authorisation access to enter the palace.”
Not too long later, you find yourself seated on the motorbike behind Jungwon, one hand gripping Jungwon’s broad shoulders for support while the other clutching the strap of your shoulder bag as he drives alongside Sunoo and Riki to the route of the massive garage that eventually greets your vision.
"So, were you guys with them?” You break the ice as soon as you dismount from Jungwon’s motorbike.
“Kind of.” Jungwon answers your question as he removes his helmet, whereas Riki, being the usual nonchalant he is, decides to head inside first. “We were just riding around town with them before they headed off somewhere.”
“Why? Worried that they’re with other girls?” Sunoo shoots you a lopsided grin, and his eyes twinkle teasingly at your sour expression. “I’m kidding. They only have eyes for you, darling.”
You huff annoyedly at him before returning your attention to Jungwon, whom you find more tolerable than the blond-haired one. “So what are you guys doing here? I know for a fact that you don’t live here.”
“Riki left something of his, but we also want to hang out here for a bit before the Hyungs decide to kick us out.” There is a knowing glint in Jungwon’s eye. “Especially since you’re here.”
Sunoo saunters forward and slings his arm around Jungwon’s neck. “It looks like you’ll be staying here overnight.” Sunoo points out with a pout on his lips, noticing your shoulder bag. “You’re privileged, you know? The fact that you have your very own personalised room here─”
“Wait, my own room? Here?” You cut him off, a genuine surprise tinges in your tone.
“You don’t know?” Sunoo raises an inquisitive eyebrow at you while a frown tugs at his lips. “All the while you’ve been here, they’ve never shown you to your room?”
“No.” You answer slowly, your cheeks warming as you avoid their gaze. “But why? I didn’t think I needed one since I was always in either of their rooms.”
“Well, now that you know, you should really count yourself lucky.” Jungwon scoffs out a smirk, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen Jay so fucking smitten over a girl before, until you.”
“Come on! I’ll show you to your room.” Sunoo offers his arm to you, and despite him always putting you off, you don’t hesitate to hook your arm around his bicep before he proceeds to guide you, with Jungwon trailing behind.
“I’m just going to ignore the fact that you got to see my room before I did.” You shoot him a playful scowl, to which he reciprocates with his tongue sticking out to you before he takes you by surprise as he maintains the conversation flowing despite the occasional banter bounces off between the two of you.
All the while, Jungwon remains totally silent behind you as you ascend the stairs, and you have grown comfortable with your arm around Sunoo’s. Reaching the second floor, you get startled at the sight of Riki in a newly designed purple mask.
Sunoo, who feels your body jolting in surprise, narrows his eyes at the tall male. “Not the right time to scare her, Riks.”
“I wasn’t.” Riki tilts his head, confusion lacing his tone. He points his index finger at his face. “Check it out. My new mask for the next Halloween season.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sunoo rolls his eyes uninterestedly at him before giving you a lopsided smile and changing his tone. “Your room’s one level away. Let’s go, darling.”
“Jungwon.” Riki calls out for him, prompting the latter to head over to him while Sunoo continues to guide you.
If there is one thing about Sunoo, it is that he is chattier than you expect him to be. Even when you’re already out of capacity to keep up with his ongoing chatter, he manages to be entertained by your silence.
“Here we are.” Sunoo chirps as both of you are standing in front of a cream-coated door.
Your loosening arm around his eventually falls to your side while you stare at the door with incredulity, doubts lingering in your mind. “Are you sure this is not a prank?”
“Trust me, darling, if I wanted to prank you, I would’ve already pushed you off into a pool filled with piranhas.”
You gasp at him, your eyes widening in horror, whereas Sunoo seems so laid-back, with a grin adorning his face. “I would hardly call that a prank.”
“I’m kidding. I wouldn’t dare prank you that involves your safety, or else they’ll have my head.” Sunoo chuckles, his body leaning towards you to boop your nose with his finger. “Do make yourself comfortable. If you need us, we’ll be somewhere at the arcade or the bar for the next hour, most probably.”
Sunoo brushes past you, leaving you to fight against your doubt momentarily before you heave a sigh and decide to enter the room that you can now call yours. As soon as you step in and switch on the light, a soft gasp leaves your lips while your eyes twinkle in wonderment at the lovely sight of your room.
The white-painted wall makes the room look rather spacious than it already is. A queen-sized bed presses up against the wall with an interesting white shell-designed headboard, and the sheets are in pastel pink. You can’t help but release soft chuckles, spotting Sanrio soft toys arrayed horizontally on the bed.
You continue to admire every detail of the room as you saunter forward. By the window sill, there is ample space for three people to sit on top of the cushion. There is also a walk-in closet room, to which you keenly head inside and switch on the light, only to be greatly shocked at the fact that the wardrobes have already been supplied with a variety of clothes and even shoes and some high heels on each shelf.
All the while, you are rendered speechless as you exit the closet room and move over to the vanity desk, pulling one of the drawers filled with familiar cosmetic products that have been arranged rather meticulously, to which you smile softly as you have a sense of Jay’s touch on them.
“So I take it that you like your room, then?”
Your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sound of his voice, prompting you to turn around and see him by the doorway with his arms folded across his chest as he leans sideways against the frame.
Your eyes rake all over his appearance, while heat creeps up on your cheeks as you do so. His magenta-red-dyed hair looks dishevelled, enticing you to adjust it. The black leather jacket hugs his lean physique perfectly, as it looks taut, and you recall that pool party where you finally saw the full view of his bare upper body.
“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your cheeks remain blushing upon being aware that you were blatantly checking him out, and to make it worse, he notices it too, as evident in the way he smirks at you. “I’m sorry for entering without permission, but Sunoo─”
“Don’t apologise. This is your room, after all.” Heeseung cuts you off firmly, but a tinge of softness is apparent in his tone. As he ambles towards you, his eyes remain intently fixed on you, making you feel self-conscious about the way you look. “It’s not much, but I do hope you like it.”
“Not much? Heeseung, giving me a room of my own in this palace is already generous enough of you guys.” The earnest gratitude in your tone sends a wave of assurance to his nerves, despite his coolly collected demeanour. Your eyebrows are softly knit together in perplexity. “But why? And whose idea was it?”
“It was mine, and the other guys were more than on board with it.” Heeseung stops in front of you with very little distance, and instead of recoiling due to the intimidation emanating from him, you remain rooted to your spot while your eye contact with him persists.
“Really?” You feel something flutter in your heart as you look at the man in front of you in a different light.
Heeseung melodious soft chuckles only seem to intensify that flutter. “You should’ve seen them on the same day I brought up the idea of you having your own room in the palace. They bought everything and anything they could recall about you and your likes.”
“I can see that.” Your eyes form the shape of a crescent as you join him, and your chuckles bring a pleased smile from him. “But Heeseung, you really didn’t have to. I’m sure it must’ve been hard work to arrange and decorate the room.”
“I wanted to.” Heeseung’s gesture of brushing fallen strands of your hair and tucking them behind your ear surprises you, as does the sincerity glinting in his eyes. “I wanted you to have a personal space for whenever you needed it. Your comfort matters to me most, sweetheart.”
“Heeseung, what am I to you?” Your voice barely above a whisper, and an air of vulnerability suspends around you. “I’m confused, Hee. Before this, we weren’t friends or acquaintances, and even now, I’m not entirely sure what I am to you.”
Heeseung simply smiles at you, the sentiments swimming in his eyes are inexplicable. His fingers stroke your cheek in an affectionate gesture while his features have completely softened, stirring foreign yet familiar emotions within you. “You’re my beloved.” He whispers.
“But─” Your voice disappears momentarily when he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he steps away from you.
“Good night, sweetheart.” He shoots you one last smile before turning his back on you, getting ready to leave your room.
You don’t know what takes you over, but you find yourself going after him, and once you’re nearer, your hand latches on his wrist. “Heeseung, wait.”
Heeseung turns around and raises an eyebrow at you, awaiting your words, but your next gesture startles him. Your arms slither around his neck before pulling him fully into your embrace.
“Thank you.” You say softly next to his ear while you ignore a twinge of disappointment in your chest as he doesn’t reciprocate your hug. “I appreciate everything you guys did.”
Just as you have every intention to back away, you feel his arms encasing your waist, pulling you closer until your body fully comes into contact with his. Your tummy remains in a fluttery mess, still refusing to believe that your academic rival of four years is hugging you fervently.
It takes everything for Heeseung to repress the darkness within him from engulfing you wholly, as he doesn’t wish for you to keep your distance from him, but fuck, you feel so undeniably right and perfect in his arms.
Heeseung has longed to hold you like this, and it is even better than how he imagined it. His cheek rests against the side of your head, and his nose lightly buries in your hair as he takes a whiff of your shampoo scent from your hair.
“Hee…” You utter his name softly, feeling his heartbeat against your chest that seems to be pounding erratically, and despite becoming wholly inhibited by the way he is hugging you as though he is hugging his lover, you know that you never want to let go of him.
After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung gives your crown a kiss, another gesture of his affection. “Sleep well, my beloved.”
This time, you don’t question the intimate endearment, still clinging to him as though he’s your salvation. You feel the back of his fingers caressing your head while you unfurl a soft smile on your lips, blissfully unaware of the devil you have just aroused.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
The emphatic quietude in the palace only seems to discomfort you instead of providing some sort of placidity. Having been a regular here for as long as you can recall, you have grown eminently accustomed to the sporadic racket from the boisterous knights, so the absence of their essence feels strange to you.
What is even weirder is the fact that neither Jay, Jake, nor Sunghoon are by your side and are uncharacteristically clingy to you, which brings a small frown to your lips. Earlier, after freshening yourself up, you were expecting either of them to barge into your room, but none showed up, and so you ventured your way to their rooms just to be greeted by empty rooms.
Naturally, you expected the three of them to come back with Heeseung last night, so their stark absence confused you until you decided to send Jake a text only to receive his reply, ‘We’re going to be out of town for a while. Sorry, lovely, but we hope you like your new room!’ Of course, you feel a tad sulky since you had been hoping to spend more time with them.
Plus, you are not entirely certain if you really do get along with Heeseung. Sure, last night’s interaction with him felt awfully intimate, as did the fact that you initiated a skinship with him, but the turmoil in you persists at a single thought of the enigmatic Lee Heeseung, so what’s more to be anywhere in his vicinity?
Speaking of Heeseung, you have yet to see him anywhere, for which you are thankful. You are definitely not prepared to face him yet after what happened last night, especially the affectionate forehead kiss he gave you.
Warmth weaves across your cheeks as you recall, before you lightly pat your cheek to snap out of it and decide to resume walking down the familiar aisle of shelves with fictional books filled to the brim.
Presently, you are in the magnificent library filled with opulence and gold details embellished sublimely on every wall and turn, giving you a sense of simulation as though you are a princess wandering in your own royal library.
A faint smile touches your lips as you recall whenever Sunghoon calls you his princess while giddiness dances in your fluttery heart. It has only been a day, and yet you’re already missing Sunghoon and the others. You shake your head lightly before refocusing on reality again.
Your fingers remain mindlessly yet delicately stroking the spines of the books while your eyes are keenly surveying any book that piques your interest until they finally stop at a certain book, but it is one shelf higher.
With a determined huff, you stand on your tippy toes with your hand outstretched to reach and grab for the book, but your attempt is rather futile, and so you silently curse your height.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, sweetheart.”
His soft, honeyed-dripping voice sends your heart doing a little flip while you stand frozen in your spot at the close proximity between you and him, allowing you to feel the heat emanating from his body. A movement above you captures your attention, prompting you to look up at his hand, reaching out for the book that piqued your interest with such ease.
“Here.” He lowers his hand for you to grab the book, and you do so hesitantly.
You turn around with the intention to thank him, and when you do, your voice disappears briefly as you scan his appearance, particularly his hair, which has been freed from his wonted cap or even beanie. The strands look longer than you remember as the length reaches below his brows, but they do nothing to obscure the distinct darkness in his eyes.
“Thank you.” You manage to utter a feeble gratitude, smiling at him awkwardly while shifting discreetly under the weight of his dark gaze.
“Have you eaten yet?” Heeseung asks, an unmistakable tenderness in his tone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart.
“I have.” You answer, feeling a tad sheepish that you did go through their fridge without asking for permission earlier. You notice satisfaction glinting in his eye before he takes you by surprise as he gently pats you on the head.
“Good. I’d hate for you to starve.” He mutters, and a smirk threatens to form on his lips upon seeing your cheeks getting rosier, knowing that his mere gesture has an effect on you.
“How did you know I was here?” You decide to strike up a conversation you hope is decent enough to dispel the awkwardness, but in all honesty, you can’t wait to flee from him.
“Sunghoon did tell me that if you’re not found anywhere in the palace, then you’d probably be in the library.” He divulges, giving you a soft smile that surprisingly allays your inner turmoil. “Besides, you love reading.”
You dismiss the fact that he knows about your love for books, which he must’ve known from Sunghoon as well. Silence hangs in the air painfully as you avoid his lingering gaze. “So... I'm just going to head off to read.” You tell him in a rather brusque manner before venturing your way out of the aisle to the centre of the library, where you would usually make yourself comfortable on one of the velvety couches and become engrossed in the reading.
A sense of deja vu washes over you as you settle on the velvety beige couch, bringing a small smile to your lips upon recalling Sunghoon having you perched on his lap with his arms caged around your waist and his chin rested on your shoulder as he peered at the passages you were reading.
Before you can dwell further in your yearning for any of the three, you flip open the first chapter of the book and allow yourself to fall immersive in the fictional world, or at least you tried to, because it isn’t long before the sound of footsteps from behind you serves as a distraction, prompting you to slowly look up when a shadow looms over your figure.
With your head tilted up, your eyes meet Heeseung’s amused ones as he stares down at you with a sly smirk. “Shall we finally address the elephant in the room?” It seems to you that it’s more of a rhetorical question.
“There’s nothing to address.” You clip, redirecting your attention to the book, but even you know that it is hard to focus since the man behind you remains looming ominously over you.
You hear his soft yet lethal chuckles, emerging goosebumps on your skin. “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty.” For a split second, you swear you feel his fingers ghosting the skin of your exposed bare shoulder as you are adorned in a white spaghetti strap loose dress, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
“Hee─” The next thing you know, he snatches the book from your slack clutches, drawing a flabbergasted gasp from you, but then comes the vexation as you find yourself turning around with the intention to berate him. “That was rude, Lee Heeseung.”
Even as you stand on your knees, he still manages to tower over you. His eyes rake over your flustered countenance, greatly amused, as evident in the way his lips curve up at the fact that you resemble an angry kitten. A kitten he desires to tame and keep in his possession forever.
“Give it back.” You demand, swallowing the frightful lump in your throat at the familiar intimidation exuding from him while a deceptive smile plays on his lips.
“Now that I have your full attention, let’s start off with your avoidance.”
“My avoidance?” You scoff lightly, looking away from his steely eyes. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”
His fingers seize your chin, forcing you to look at him in the eyes while your heart goes hammering against your chest at the explicable storms brewing in his hauntingly beautiful eyes. “Have I ever mentioned to you how much I loathe liars?”
“No..?” You attempt to jerk from his touch, but he only grips your chin tighter. “H-Heeseung...”
“I’m very upset with you, pretty.” A sigh of faux dejection elicits from him. “You got me confused with your mixed signals. One moment you act all friendly, and the next, you look at me with such animosity. The thought of you hating me truly disheartens me.”
“I don’t hate─” You pause as soon as he finally releases you.
“You know, I wanted to reward you for making my best friends happier than they've ever been.” His admission kindles a burning flame of inquisitiveness within you, but you know you ought to remain silent as he continues. “I’m sure you must’ve noticed that their personalities differ from one another, but in a way, they remain kindred souls who share the same pain that stemmed from the threshold of their dysfunctional family. So happiness was a sentiment so foreign and insignificant to them, until you happened.”
“I don’t understand.” You begin to speak out after a couple beats of silence as his words sink into your brain. Your eyes follow his measured movements as he moves around you. “They share the same pain? Does that mean Jake and Sunghoon were victims of parental abuse the way Jay experienced?”
Heeseung’s arched eyebrow denotes his surprise. “So you knew about Jay?”
You slowly nod your head despite the uncertainty. “He didn’t exactly tell me the details, but I knew enough.” A frown creases your complexion. “But Heeseung, how do you know about all of these?”
Something meaningful flickers in his eyes for a fleeting moment. “The four of us kind of grew up together since our fathers were best friends, but whatever happened behind the curtains of our lives was all divulged only between us. Plus, I saw some unpleasant sights.”
“Like?” You prod, but uneasiness spreads across your chest upon awaiting his answer.
Heeseung looks down at the book, flipping through the pages uninterestedly. “Like how Sunghoon’s father attempted to kill him by hiring a hitman three years ago.”
“What?” A disbelieving gasp leaves your gaping mouth, and when Heeseung meets your eyes, he merely smirks as he shuts the book closed with one hand.
“Of course, Sunghoon took care of the matter within a day, and on the same day, his father received a special gift from him.” Something so wicked glints in his eyes. “A gift of the hitman’s heart that Sunghoon carved it out himself.”
A part of you refuses to believe it, but you’ve already seen and known what they are capable of. Being ensnared in a whirlwind of conflict, you feel revolted at the fact that the very man who went to the extent of carving out an organ is the same man who touched, fucked, kissed, and held you in his warm embrace. The revelation also has you reflecting on the past interactions you had with Sunghoon ─ just how lucky you were that you didn’t end up dead for those moments where you dared to show your defiance to him.
“But why?” You ask, your voice shaking palpably while you attempt to conceal your fear. “Why would his own father do that? How could a father bear the thought of killing their own child?”
“It is rather complex, if I’m being honest.” Heeseung shrugs his shoulders, seeming almost nonchalant. “Out of the four of us, Sunghoon was blessed to grow up with doting parents who often showered him with love despite having other siblings compete for their affection. So the knowledge that his own father, whom he looked up to the most, loathed him to the point where he was willing to eradicate Sunghoon’s existence was more than upsetting.”
“Did─” Hesitation pulls you back, apprehensive to hear the answer. “Did Sunghoon kill his father as well?”
Heeseung merely hums, his face remains impassive. “No. Sunghoon decided that death was an easy way out for his father. He has other plans, I suppose.”
“What about Jay?” You didn’t mean to sound eager to know about their whole life story, or at least a partial part of it, but the three of them have never divulged to you anything regarding family, unlike you. “Those scars I saw and touched on his back…” Your eyebrows are softly knit together. “I couldn’t believe that a father would do that to his son.”
“Jongseong made it abundantly clear to us that his birth was unplanned. Thus, his parents grew to resent him because they never wanted a child.” Heeseung settles on the marbled-surface table directly in front of you, his eyes never leaving your curious ones. “The scars he got were from his fucked-up alcoholic father while his mother closed both her eyes to the abuse he went through, and because of them, Jongseong grew resentful and hateful, especially whenever a parental topic was brought up. You should’ve seen him before ─ he was even more vicious.”
You bring your knees close to your chest as you hug your legs. The distraught yet crestfallen look in your eyes doesn't go unnoticed by Heeseung. “So that’s why he─” You halt, pressing your lips thinly, before murmuring, “I can’t even imagine the pain he had to endure.”
Heeseung sets the book aside on the table, a passing fleet of cognisance in his eyes. “And I’m guessing you must’ve brought up something relating to his parents before, no?”
You avert your gaze elsewhere, obscuring the scintilla of guilt in your eyes from his sight. “I can’t say that we fought, but he did blow up on me because he didn’t believe that I truly cared for him when I─” You draw in a sharp inhalation at the stinging memory before casting Heeseung a feeble smile. “Never mind. It’s all water under the bridge now.”
You expect Heeseung to press onto the matter, but the flicker of understanding in his eyes evokes an inkling in you that he must’ve known what really happened, and it makes you feel uneasy at the plausible thought that everything that happened between you and them seems to have been reported to Heeseung for some reason.
“So now that’s left is our most beloved Sim Jaeyun.” Heeseung slants his body to the back with his palms on the cold, flat surface for support, while a knowing smirk plays on his lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but he is your favourite out of them, right?”
“He’s not─” It’s as if your tongue is tied at the instant denial urges you, rendering you dubious of your unbiased sentiments centred around them. Your fingers curl, forming a fist with which you clutch the teetering truth of coequal feelings beyond platonic for the three of them. A muscle pulses in your jaw. No, you’re not one to play favourites.
With your steel-determined eyes unwaveringly meeting him, you opt to pull a reverse uno card on him as you fold your arms below your chest. “What about you, then? I’m most certain he’s your favourite.”
Inquisitivity pulls an arch at his eyebrow. “What are you implying?” His soft tone belies the cryptic danger that parallels the brewing storms in his eyes, and you know you ought to tread carefully with your next words.
“There was once when Jay and Jake fought, but Sunghoon managed to de-escalate the situation before it got worse.” You allow your limbs to let loose, your hands settling on your lap politely. The movement of your teeth biting down on the plushness of your lips captures his eyes. “Initially, I heard them arguing, and your name was mentioned. Jay then told me about Jake breaking a code, and I’m guessing it was you whom he slept with.”
All the while, your cheeks are flushed as you look everywhere except his penetrating eyes. Truth be told, you were shocked when the revelation unravelled, and a twinge of upset came. It was not that you were against the plausible thought of them being queers, but you never wanted to be a catalyst in the relationship between them, be it platonic or romantic-wise. You clutch at the hem of your dress, nervously waiting in anticipation for his next words.
“You are right about one thing. He is my most favourite out of them, but our one-night stand was a drunken mistake.” The stark sincerity in his admission is unmistakable, prompting you to flutter your eyes at him. “It was during this period of time that he completely ghosted us. We were drunk and got caught up in a spur of the moment. Plus, he was being vulnerable even before he got drunk.”
“It’s okay, Hee. You don’t have to explain everything to me.” You assure him with a faint smile, while the nickname that leaves your lips has an impact on him.
“But I want to.” He counters firmly, his body leaning slightly forward. “You have to know that Jaeyun and I’s relationship is nothing beyond platonic.”
“I believe you, Hee.” You feel compelled to give him any form of assurance as you offer him a small smile, and yet dubiety remains lingering in your mind. “It’s just that... I don’t want to be the kind of person who ruins the relationship you have with him, or any of them for that matter.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” His tone is filled with affection as he grabs your hand to give your knuckle a chaste kiss, causing your heart to do a little flip at the gesture. “You could never be the one who ruined the relationship between us.” Because the ruined one in the end will be you, and you’ll come to depend on and cling to us as if we’re your salvation.
You slowly retract your hand from his touch as you clear your throat, intending to revert to the topic. “You mentioned Jaeyun ghosted you. He ghosted me too.” Your lips jut into a pout at the recollection. “Till this day, I have no idea what spurred him on. Even though he did apologise, he never really explained why he did what he did either.”
Heeseung knows this, of course, but he is not about to let it be known to you. “We wondered the same even after we reconciled, but upon some inspection, it turns out your loverboy has serious abandonment issues.” A lazy smirk touches his lips, and just as you are about to retort, he adds on, “I highly doubt that he already told you, but Jake, he’s been clinically diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. His therapy can attest to that.”
You frown as you wrap the information around your head. “So his disorder correlates to why he did what he did?”
Heeseung sighs softly. “Look, I said all of those not as a means to justify his actions, but it’s for you to understand and know that no matter what frontage Jaeyun displays, he has a soft heart. He just needs a little loving and for the people he holds close to him to never abandon him.”
The air around you shifts drastically into something rather stifling as he leans forward while gazing deeply into your eyes, and you feel the connection between the two of you is ineffable. Your heart beats in a measured cadence that feels foreign yet familiar as he strokes your cheek tenderly.
“Can you promise me something, sweetheart?” He asks in a lulling whisper, and you find yourself getting lost in the abysmal depths of his enthralling eyes. “Promise me that you’ll stay by their side and continue to make them happy.”
“Yes.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but the promise has plunged deep into your beating heart, firm in upholding it. “I never wanted to leave either.”
Heeseung unfurls a soft smirk on his lips upon hearing your admission, satisfied at the pellucid attachment you have to them and to him soon enough. “Such a good girllll.” He drawls, and you discern something shifting in him while your breath nearly hitches in your throat at his darkening eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”
Heeseung grabs the book and gives it to you. Confused, you decide to take it from him anyway. “What do you want me to do─”
As soon as he stands, looming over your seated figure, it feels as if you have lost the ability to speak as you tilt your head to look up at him. With a smirk on his handsome countenance, he leans down to you, one hand on the headrest behind you. “I want you to read from where you left off earlier.”
“Okay.” You acquiesce while your heart seems to gradually pound harder and harder, your eyes watching him attentively as he slowly backs away just slightly. “But why?”
He doesn’t respond, and instead, he crouches down on his knees in front of you, his hands touching your calves before moving them upwards tantalisingly slowly.
“W-What are you doing?” You stutter, a twinge of panic in your heart despite the racing anticipation that betrays your morality, or whatever is left.
Heeseung doesn’t stop, even as you squirm and attempt to push him away, earning you a disapproving tut from him. “I’m giving you your reward, sweetheart. Don’t you want that?”
“I-I─” Eventually, you relent from squirming and allow his hands to move underneath your dress with ease. “Heeseung.” You mutter his name weakly in defeat, feeling his fingers hooking around your underwear before he pulls it down until it leaves past your ankles.
Heeseung pries your legs open by force, rendering your lower region wholly exposed under the weight of his dark gaze. Effortlessly, he adjusts the position of your legs over his shoulders, leaving your legs to dangle behind him as he moves closer to you.
“Go on, pretty.” He leans down, his warm breath tickling your skin, before he places a sensual kiss on your inner thigh. “Read the book.”
You can’t seem to resist his command, and so you heed it, your trembling fingers clutching the book as you open and flip through the page that you left off. Your chest heaves up and down in anticipation as you feel his lips leaving trails of wet kisses along your inner thigh, scorching and burning.
How can you ever concentrate on reading just one paragraph when his lips feel closer and closer to the display of your bare cunt, which seems to betray your revulsion as it clenches at nothingness in anticipation?
“You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Just as his lips come into contact with your clit, a soft gasp elicits from you while your hips buck up at the sheer sensitivity. “Ahh, pretty angel is so sensitive, isn’t she?” He coos before taking you by a delightful surprise at the sensation of his wet muscle licking a long stripe of your slit.
“Hee─” You gasp as soon as his tender administration shifts into something that is ravenous, his tongue delving into the wonder of your wet cavity so deep, and yet each thrust and lick is executed with such precision that it has you rolling your eyes to the back. “Mmhmm, S-Seungie.”
His cock twitches beneath the confines of his slacks at how adorable you sound. The moans you so desperately try to muffle with your palm only seem to fuel his raging desire for you. “Keep reading the book, sweetheart.” He nearly growls out his command, sending pleasurable vibrations through your body.
You try, you really do, but how are you supposed to focus on reading when the man below you is lapping and ravaging your cunt as though it is his last meal?
His movements are uninhibited while his grip on your thighs only seems to tighten, getting utterly drunk on your pussy as his wet muscle is fucking into you wantonly, revelling in the lewd sound eliciting from your lips. Oh, he has dreamt of this moment.
“Seungie.” You whimper, your hips bucking up at the sensation of his pointed nose rubbing against your neglected clit. The book has fallen from your grasp, prompting you to muffle the lewd sound that spills from your lips with the back of your hand while tears well in your lower lids at the sheer intensity of his tongue fucking into your already drenched cunt that hurls you at the brink of your impending orgasm.
“Mmhmm fuck,” His gravelly, husky voice as he rasps against your wet folds sends your cunt pulsating, and his nose rubbing against your clit only seems to intensify the knot in your tummy. “You’re so soaked for me, sweetheart.”
Damn right, you are, and you’re not even cumming yet, but the slicks of your arousal leaking from your cunt are unmistakable as he wholeheartedly laps up everything that is not enough for his insatiable hunger for you.
“Please.” You pant lightly, your curve arching as you throw your head to the back with moans spilling from your lips, feeling his lips enveloping your aching clit with his tongue drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves and his cold, slender fingers plunging into your sopping cunt to fuck you hard.
“What are you pleading for, pretty?” Heeseung murmurs against your skin before resuming to suck on your clit harshly, while the sound of his fingers fucking into you is obscenely wet.
“Please let me cum.” You moan out your permission while your hips move in tandem with his unforgiving fingers.
“Go on.” Heeseung permits, his fingers curling inside of you and hitting the spot that sends sparks flying in your vision.
“Seungie, I-I’m─” You gasp in between bated breaths as the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable, sending your body to writhe under him as your impending orgasm awaits its release.
“That’s it, baby. Give it to me.” His hungry gaze remains fixated on you, while his fingers fucking into you never let up. “Cum.”
At a single command, your lips part open in a silent scream, and blood rushes into your ear while white flashes in your vision as he sends you into a blissful state of euphoria, with your orgasm crashing down on you violently and your body convulsing beneath him.
“Good girl. Oh, you did so well, my beloved.” Heeseung’s warm praise has your pulsating cunt clenching around his fingers that are coated with your release, drawing a smirk on his handsome face.
You whimper at your sensitivity as he slowly withdraws his fingers from you. You watch with lidded eyes while heat creeps up on your cheeks as he inserts his drenched fingers into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you.
Heeseung nearly moans at the taste of your nectar on his tongue, savouring it a little longer before he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. His dark eyes rake all over you, noticing how spent you looked just by a single orgasm. Although he yearns to bury his face in your sweet cunt again, he refrains from doing so, not wanting to unleash the inner part of him that is akin to a raging beast that can only be tamed by you.
The realisation of your cunt still being exhibited under his gaze as the hem of your dress is hiked up to your stomach makes you immediately regain your composure, straightening your spine before bending down to reach for your white underwear, but you become appalled when Heeseung seizes it. “Heeseung─”
“Lift your leg for me, sweetheart.” His command is delivered in a soft, calming tone, to which you silently comply, slowly lifting your leg before he proceeds to assist you in wearing your underwear.
Just as you rise from the couch, your knees buckle underneath you, causing an imbalance in your standing figure, but Heeseung steadily holds you against him while you lean dependently into his chest for support.
“Sorry.” You mutter, and your rosy cheeks feel warmer under his dark gaze on your face, with a smirk playing on his lips. Your heart beats erratically against your chest in intimate close proximity while his arms slither around your waist.
“Oh, sweetheart, you are truly adorable.” Heeseung coos, his fingers stroking your cheek affectionately, and his eyes are swirling with sentiments beyond your comprehension, because why is he gazing at you with such love and adoration?
“I haven’t even fucked you yet, but your legs are already turning into jell-o because of my tongue.”
“Heeseung! You can’t just say that!” You flushed red in disbelief at how he said it so casually. You try to push him away from you, but he only tightens his grip on you and pulls you closer to him until you can feel his bulge pressing against your tummy. “Let go of me.”
Heeseung grabs strands of your soft locks and brings them to his nose, smelling faintly before kissing them, and his gesture alone sends a fluttery sensation to your heart. “I won’t ever let go of you, sweetheart.” You can’t help but sense the double meaning of his words. “Plus, I haven’t said what I want to say to you.”
“And what is that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Come with me to a family dinner tomorrow.” He says so firmly, his tone indicates no room for objection from you.
“Okay.” You acquiesce, frowning lightly, which denotes your confusion. “But why me?”
“You’re in my territory now, pretty. So everything I say or order, you’ll do so like the good girl I know you are, and don’t even think of trying to escape.” Heeseung leans in to press a tender kiss on your forehead, and while his gesture feels affectionate, it does nothing to alleviate the familiar turmoil within you.
“And if I do?” You dare to ask despite feeling apprehensive about his answer. Your pulses drum in your ears as he trails his kisses down the side of your face before stopping at your temple while his hand moves to cradle the back of your head.
“Pretty girl, if you do…” He sighs softly against you, moving his lips to press a sensual kiss on your earlobe before catching you completely off guard when his fingers grab a chunk of your hair and pull your head to the back, eliciting a whimper from you.”
“H-Hee─” Your hand flies to his wrist and claws at it, imploring him to release you while your fearful eyes meet his dark, steely ones. “Seungie.” You whimper as he forces you to turn your head sideways.
His hot breath fans the shell of your earlobe while your heart remains pounding harder. “Oh, sweetheart, I don’t think you’ll like the consequences.” He whispers darkly into your ear. “Even if you do manage to escape, I won’t be far behind.”
“Why are you being like this?” You ask shakily, tears glistening in your eyes at his unforgiving hold.
“Why?” His cold chuckles feel mocking, sending shivers through you. “Because you’re mine. Your body, your voice, your soul ─ they’re mine.” He presses a deep kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “Sweetheart, you’ve always belonged to me.”
No! That is what your mind is screaming, and your rationality urges you to evade this psychotic man, but despite the pain and fear you harbour for him, a twisted part of you feels delighted because, deep down, maybe you have longed for him to take you in the way the other three men did.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
You can’t recall the last time family dinner felt this uncomfortable. What’s even worse is that you feel your presence is intruding, considering that Heeseung’s parents didn’t seem too pleased at the moment they saw you at the threshold of their posh mansion, but nevertheless, they acknowledged you.
The atmosphere in the dining room seems to thicken with tension that is palpable to you despite the distinct chatters and chortles coming from the other side of the table, prompting you to discreetly look over to Heeseung’s twin older brothers.
Earlier, Heeseung introduced you to his older brothers, who were rather blatantly flirtatious with you in their manner, but you were not entirely surprised since Heeseung did give you a heads-up about his older brothers’ coquettish tendencies towards women. You were also informed that they are five years older than Heeseung, and they are currently doctors employed at Seoul National Hospital.
A frown touches your lips as you watch them, wondering how on earth they manage to blithely disregard the patent frigidity between Heeseung and his parents. It is almost as if the two are used to this prevalence.
Heeseung never really mentioned anything about his parents on your way to dinner, but you knew that his father is the Chief of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, so that explains the cold, reserved demeanour his father exudes. Heck, you feel as though you are committing a crime whenever you make a single movement, especially as his father’s eagle eyes occasionally settle on you. Of course, you never dare make eye contact with his father unless he directs his speech to you.
His mother, on the other hand, looks years younger than his father. She appears standoffish, dolled up in a designer piece that drapes over her figure flawlessly. She has yet to say much, but her sharp yet callous eyes often send you flinching.
“So, Heeseung.” One of the twins, who goes by Jaesung, draws everyone’s attention, including yours. It is still uncanny to you that the three siblings can pass as triplets instead, especially in the way they smile. “Is this the part where you announce your relationship with the lovely Y/N Kang?”
“Our baby brother? In a serious relationship?” The other twin, Daehyun, remarks with a tinge of sarcasm, leaning forward with his hands clasped together. “Oh my. How you’ve grown, indeed.”
“Is this true, Heeseung?” The austerity is accentuated in the way his father speaks, nearly causing you to flinch, but from your peripheral vision, Heeseung displays such nonchalance.
As much as you want to assert the truth to them, you resort to the silent passivity of whatever declaration Heeseung chooses to enunciate. Plus, his hand gripping your plush thigh is an implicit warning, so you know better than to go against him.
You quickly take a glance at Heeseung, seeing his full attention on his father seated across from him. You begin to wonder what exactly Heeseung’s motive is when he clearly displays his disdain for this family dinner.
Heeseung, who has felt your eyes lingering on his face, chuckles inwardly as he can sense your peak curiosity about the dynamic of his family as well as his ulterior motive, but he continues to maintain heated eye contact with his father while a smirk plays on his lips.
Truthfully, Heeseung simply wants to exasperate his father by bringing you to the family dinner, knowing that his father explicitly warned him to keep his distance from you for some reason, and yet Heeseung has an inkling that his father’s absurd rationality has something to do with you being your mother’s daughter.
“Yes.” His confirmation seems to elicit a flaring ire behind the elder’s eyes, which only fuels Heeseung’s zeal in executing part of his revenge towards him. Without looking at you, Heeseung grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers with his before raising it to give the back of your hand a kiss. “Y/N and I are in a relationship, so we hope that you’ll give us your blessings.”
“You have our blessings, dear brother.” Daehyun intervenes, but that does little to ease the crackling tension between the father and the youngest son.
“Take good care of our baby brother, Y/N.” Jaesung sends you a friendly wink, to which Heeseung narrows his eyes.
“I see.” His father’s reciprocation is nothing short of acknowledgement, but even you can tell that his father doesn’t approve of this in the way he stares at Heeseung. The elder dabs the white handkerchief to the corner of his lips before rising from his seat. “If that is all, I’ll be in my office to resume my paperwork.”
“Dear.” You watch as the wife calls for him and touches his arm, but the elder simply ignores her as he proceeds to make his departure. Even towards his own wife, he harbours the same coldness towards Heeseung.
Time has passed since the uncomfortable dinner, and you now find yourself wandering in the sectional part of the living room, where there are distinct yet beautiful paintings hanging in opulent golden frames on each wall, making you feel as though you are at an art exhibition event. They look like they cost thousands.
“Y/N.”
Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest at the sound of his father’s voice. You slowly turn around, only to lock eyes with his steely ones as he stands just a few metres from you, allowing you to take a fleeting examination of his features. It is as if you are staring at the older version of Heeseung.
“Mister Lee,” You manage to utter a feeble greeting with a small smile. “Thank you for the wonderful dinner.” It was, in fact, the worst dinner you ever had.
You subtly shift under the uncomfortable weight of his gaze as he seems to scrutinise you, leaving you to ponder what you did wrong for his father to feel disdainful towards you.
“I don’t approve of your relationship with Heeseung.” You already expect that much, but why does your heart ache even though you know that you’re not in any relationship with Heeseung? The look in his father’s eyes holds such austerity that it makes you want to cower from him. “After this, I want you to stay away from my son.”
“May I ask why?” You ask tentatively, trying your utmost to repress the hurt from travelling to emerge tears from your eyes. “Am I not good enough for your son?”
You can see it in his eyes — the drastic yet fleeting change in his austere demeanour, almost as if the sight of your eyes now glistening with tears seemed to soften him, evoking a sense of pity in him.
“Staying away from him is for your benefit.” His gentle tone shocks you, as does the look in his eyes. “You’re a nice girl, Y/N. You are better off without being associated with my son.”
“But what if I love him?” The words fly from your mouth without your permission, astounding you with the absurd declaration of love when you remain in a state of uncertainty about your feelings towards your once-academic rival. It feels like you can’t even differentiate between love and infatuation.
“Then it would be wise for you to erase your feelings for him before it’s too late.” His father chuckles wryly, and his cryptic words throw you into a whirlwind of confusion. “Being closely associated with my son will only bring you nothing but misery.”
“I don’t understand why you are talking badly about Heeseung. No matter what, he’s your son.” You express your dissatisfaction with a frown on your lips. “I already know what he’s capable of, but I can assure you he’s not bad. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
Little do you know that your words provide satisfaction to the person listening behind the wall a few metres away from you.
“You’ve been fooled by his charms, Y/N.” His father heaves a disappointed sigh. “You have no idea how despicable he is. So please, leave him while you still can.”
“Mister Lee─” Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as he steps closer, his fingers brushing your cheek tenderly.
Sentiments swirling in his eyes are beyond anything you can fathom, while a wistful smile etches on his face. “You look so much like her.” His voice trembles with poignance.
“Who?” You inquire as relief washes over you at the loss of his touch on your skin.
“Your mother.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You know my mother?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” His voice, barely above a whisper, a raw emotion of longing, is palpable.
Before you can ask him to elaborate, Heeseung’s voice cuts through the air sharply like a knife. “Y/N, sweetheart, come here.”
When you look over to him, his countenance is inscrutable, but the danger brewing in his eyes daunts you, prompting you to refrain from dilly-dallying any longer as you find yourself gravitating towards him.
Your cheeks flare as he brazenly wraps his arms around your waist before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your cheek in front of the elder. “We’ll be heading off first, father.” There is a certain edge in his tone, and before you can look up at his face, he grabs you by the hand and pulls you with him.
“Brother, leaving so soon?” Both Daehyun and Jaesung, who have been hanging out in the living room, raise their eyebrows at the two of you. “Come on. We haven’t even gotten to know Y/N yet!” Jaesung casts a flirtatious wink at you this time.
“We have somewhere to be.” Heeseung offers them a tight smile while his grip on your hand only seems to tighten, eliciting an inaudible whimper from you. “Oh, and Jaesung? Look at my girl that way again, and you’ll find yourself waking up with one eye missing.”
Heeseung doesn’t await any of their responses, as he continues to drag you along with him. You try your best to catch up with his long legs, and when your eyes linger on his back, you swear you can hear the cacophonous maelstrom of raging vehemence in his head.
Now settling in his car, cold silence continues to dominate the atmosphere. You don’t dare to break the ice between the two of you, your eyes focusing on the road ahead of you while your heart pounds against your chest as his car gradually picks up velocity, uncertain of where he is bringing you.
Your eyes eventually trail over to him, noticing his chiselled jaw locked, which parallels the tension, colouring his knuckles nearly white as he grips the steering wheel. You bite down on the inner flesh of your cheek, contemplating whether or not to speak up, especially since he is driving at an alarming speed.
“Heeseung.” You accidentally utter his name in a meek whisper before deciding to overcome your apprehension, but your soft voice is a melodious tune that compels him. “Seungie, slow down, please.”
Heeseung heeds your words, decelerating the speed and taking a brief glance at you before he decides to pull over to the side, where, thankfully, the street is rather a desolate one. You watch him in silence as he releases his clutch from the steering wheel, leaning his head to the back with his eyes closed, before he turns his head to look at you. “What did he say to you?”
You know that he is referring to his father. You fiddle with your fingers as your nerves begin to act up, hyper-aware of the brewing tension sizzling in the air around you. “He told me to stay away from you.”
Of course, Heeseung knows this since he eavesdropped on you earlier. He hums, his hand reaching out to cradle your cheek, and his thumb moves in a tender stroke on your skin. “And what did my sweetheart tell him?”
You hate how his soft tone feels deceptive, causing you to tread carefully with your next choice of words. “I refused him and told him that you’re nice.” You mumble as you find yourself leaning into his touch.
A pleased smirk plasters on his handsome countenance. “Good girl. Now come here.” Upon his instruction, you unbuckle your seatbelt before moving over to him with his assistance, as he has you perched on top of him.
His heart soars at how docile you are to him while his eyes drink in your beautiful features, which are illuminated by the street lights from the outside. With his eyes boring into yours, he tucks strands of your hair behind your ear. “You know, sweetheart, I’m feeling very upset. Can you help to make me feel better?”
“Are you upset because of your father?” The way you tilt your head slightly to one side as your doe eyes sparkle with curiosity brings a fond smile twitching on his lips.
“Many things upset me, like how my brothers were being flirtatious with you,” He leans his body towards you, his hands slithering around your waist and pulling you closer until your chest hits his. “How my father had the audacity to keep us apart,” His voice drops low as he dips his head down to place a kiss on your skin, just above the silver cross resting on your chest, before slowly trailing his kisses upward. “How my stepmother still breathes and acts like she owns the place.”
Despite his warm lips remaining intact on the hollow of your throat, which sends your head spinning, the mention of his stepmother captures your attention. “She’s your stepmother?”
Your hands find their way to settle on his shoulders, gripping them as you begin to be aroused by his tantalising kisses littering the expanse of your neck while you tilt your head for him to gain better access, earning you an approval hum from him.
“W-What about your real mother?” You ask, panting lightly as your chest feels heavier from the rising tension in the car.
“Dead, alive, I don’t know.” Heeseung sighs against your skin. “Couldn’t give a fuck about her since the day she cut off all contact with my brothers and me.”
Your heart aches for him the same way you felt towards Jay before, but soon the sympathy dissipates at the way he is now gripping your hips to grind on him. “Wait, Heeseung─” A gasp leaves your lips as his bulge brushes against your core, causing your cunt to clench beneath the material of your underwear.
“Come on, pretty.” Heeseung leisurely leans back, pulling you down with him while his hands continue to guide your movement. “Grind on me like you're riding my cock.”
Heat weaves across your cheeks at his licentious words, and yet it only turns you on further, motivating you to pick up the momentum, grinding on him with your throbbing pussy, explicitly feeling the sheer girth of his cock hidden beneath the slacks.
“Oh, Hee…” Your lips form an ‘o’ shape with light pants and pretty moans emitting from you, your head tilted up with your lidded eyes fluttering at the delicious friction of your clit pressing down on him.
“Fuck,” He grits his teeth, his hips bucking up to move in tandem with you, while his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. “That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t stop until you make us both cum, yeah?”
You nod your head, unable to form coherent sentences as needy whines and moans continue to spill from your lips. The hem of your black dress hikes up all the way above your thighs, allowing you more room to spread your legs comfortably while still maintaining the pace. The fact that you look like a bitch in heat humping on him unabashedly doesn’t bother you in the slightest, and instead, it arouses you into grinding on his protruding cock more feverishly.
“Yeahhh, just like that, pretty.” He smirks at you, revelling at how beautiful yet sinful you look. His hands move until they grope your ass cheeks for leverage, pulling you closer and allowing you to feel for his cock and pelvis deeply. “Oh, how perfect you truly are, sweetheart.”
Your heart flutters at his adoring words, and when your eyes finally settle on his face, butterflies awaken in your tummy at the way he is looking at you with a smirk on his handsome countenance, as if you’re his whole world. Your eyes flicker at the familiar lip ring adorning his bottom lip, and a yearning for his lips on yours is palpable.
You mewl, your thighs beginning to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. to quiver as soon as you feel the familiar knot in your tummy. “Please kiss me.”
Who is he to refuse his beloved? With one hand placed on your back, he pulls you down fully, his head tilted to a perfect angle for your lips to collide with his, allowing you to taste the fresh cigarette on his lips. You flutter your eyes closed while your hips don’t relent from their feverish movement.
Despite the uncomfortable feeling of his cold lip ring on yours, your lips move in a fervent dance as he kisses you as if he needs air, as if he has waited for so long to devour you. Feeling his teeth biting down on the suppleness of your bottom lip, you whimper as your lips part open for him to explore your hot cavern.
You moan wantonly as his tongue meets you in an intimate tango while your orgasm is nearly impending, prompting you to roll your hips deeper as your clit grazes against his bulge even more deliciously.
“Cumming, pretty?” He whispers hotly into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair to grip it. His tongue licks the seams of your bottom lip, which look swollen from his biting earlier. “Come on, cum with me.”
With the last friction of your clit along his girth, your stomach tightens as you finally come undone with him, feeling your slick arousal leaking from your folds that form a sticky wet patch on your underwear. The exertion dawns on you as you allow yourself to lean on his body with your head resting on his shoulder.
He plants a kiss on your exposed shoulder while caressing your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really needed that.” With his arms wrapped around your waist, your heart remains a fluttery mess as you are cocooned in his warm embrace.
The two of you remain unmoving, basking in each other’s touch and scent, with Heeseung occasionally leaning down to press his lips on your shoulder, an affectionate gesture that intensifies the butterflies in you.
“Do you want to go back now?” He asks gently, looking at you as you slowly raise your head.
You shake your head, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the fact that you desire to feel his lips again. Being brazen enough, your fingers clutch at his collar shirt. “I want you to kiss me again.” But you utter your words meekly, drawing a teasing smirk from his lips.
“What was that?”
The way you huff annoyedly is rather adorable in his eyes. The sound of your whine goes straight to his cock. “I want you to kiss me again.” You reiterate loudly. “Please?”
Raising his upper body, Heeseung latches his hand at your nape to pull you closer until his lips collide with yours, and this time, he kisses you tenderly slowly, taking his time to savour this moment, and yet as he deepens the kiss, the connection between the two of you amplify.
You hum into the kiss, your movements are desperate as you cling onto him with your arms around his neck, needing to feel him closer. All the caution you initially had for him is thrown in the wind, and you allow yourself to fully acknowledge that you desire this man to claim you as his best friends did.
He chuckles breathily into the kiss at your eagerness, his hold on your waist is one of reverence. “Slow down, sweetheart.” He murmurs into the kiss while you don’t relent. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
You decide to take charge, forcing him to lean back before you trail your kisses down his neck until you stop at his Adam’s apple that is bobbing up and down. Your tongue takes a teasing lick, eliciting a breathy moan from him at the sensitivity, before you lick again and give it a kiss.
“Oh, fuck.” He curses out breathlessly, feeling his cock erect underneath the material just by the sensation of your lips on his throat. This time, he isn’t sure if he can hold himself back as you continue to litter your kisses and licks all over his neck. “Sweetheart, we should stop.”
“No.” You mumble, slotting your lips over his parted ones and kissing him hard before poking your tongue into his mouth. The wet smacking sound and breathy moans elicited from the two of you are obscene, reigniting your arousal once more.
“Again?” Heeseung groans as soon as he feels you grinding your cunt on his erection while you play with his lip ring, licking and biting it. His eyes darken at the sight of you fluttering your eyelashes at him seductively as you bite down his bottom lip and pull it teasingly before you engulf him with your tongue once more.
“Cum with me, Seungie.” You mewl into his mouth as you increase the pace, allowing his cock to feel your drenched cunt explicitly. Heeseung desires to take charge, but seeing you in this light does something to him.
Rolling his hips up, Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply as white ropes of cum spurt from his cock, staining his already dampened briefs. Seeing as you manage to arouse pleasure in him, you follow suit, your underwear completely drenched as you come undone for the second time.
“Good girl.” He pants lightly, eyeing you lazily as he caresses your cheek while a soft smile beams on your face before you lean in to kiss his lips.
“Can I suck your cock now, Seungie?” You ask sweetly against his lips, driven to give him the best possible blowjob of his life after having been taught and experienced with his best friends.
“Next time, pretty.” Heeseung plants a kiss on your forehead. “We should head back.”
“Then can I suck your cock while you drive?” Your offer only seems to entice him more than it should. You force his hands away from you before you move over to the passenger seat.
“Sweetheart─” He groans, falling into the temptation as your fingers find their way to unzip his pants before they pull down his dampen brief, releasing his still erection from the confines.
Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of his long, veiny cock, with the tip raging red. Although you are doubtful if you can even handle him, a newfound vigour possesses you as you lean towards him and dip your head down with one hand holding the base. You kiss the tip wetly, enhancing his sensitivity as he bucks his hips up, before you decide to lick the tip and suck on it like you would do to a lollipop.
Heeseung throws his head to the back, moaning deeply at the sensational pleasure while he feels greatly impressed by your skills. “You are going to be the death of me, sweetheart.” He sighs pleasurably as the tip hits the roof of your mouth before you begin to deep-throat him. A muscle pulses in his jaw as he starts the ignition of his car. “Don’t stop until we reach the palace.”
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have surmised that the anonymous person was indeed Heeseung just because the endearment 'sweetheart’ induced the paranoia in you. Plus, it seems illogical that Heeseung was responsible for those texts when his loyalty and love for his best friends have been amply shown in the way he speaks about them, whereas the anonymous person had been so adamantly persuading you to leave them.
Or maybe Heeseung is indeed the anonymous person who harbours ill-feelings towards his best friends for reasons that are kept hidden in a pandora box and chose to play mind games with you. Perhaps it could be the reason why you haven’t been receiving any texts from the unknown number because you have long since been within his reach.
No matter, you regard it as something trivial. Besides, Heeseung has been nothing but nicer to you and always ensures that you are comfortable, be it inside the palace or outside. And so you shall resort to the presumption that Heeseung is not the creepy anonymous person.
“Sweetheart.” Heeseung’s warm greeting gently pulls you out of your rumination. The sound of his soft, gentle voice is a euphony to your ears that makes you feel as though you are floating as you grace your way towards him.
Your heart bears the familiar flutters as you do a quick examination of his overall beach fit. With the exception of his wonted black cap adorning his head, he is clad in a black printed short-sleeve beach shirt that complements his shorts. The serpent pendant rests on his chest with the chain hooked around his neck, while his earlobes are bare of the usual metal studs and earrings. The tattoo inked on his neck looks distinct under the fluorescent lights overhead.
You never would have thought that he would undeniably be the man of your wildest dreams.
As soon as you are within an arm’s reach, Heeseung swiftly grabs a hold of your hand and pulls you to him, eliciting endearing giggles from you that bring a smirk to his lips.
“Heeseung.” You greet him heartily, beaming with a smile on your radiant countenance as he has you locked in his embrace with one arm while the other cradles your face to angle your head before he leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you deeply while the background fades into oblivion.
He hums against your lips before pulling away just slightly for his lips to ghost over yours, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. “You look gorgeous, sweetheart.” His husky voice stirs an arousal in your core.
“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.” You reciprocate sheepishly, feeling small under his dark gaze, while a devilish smirk paints his features upon seeing your rosy cheeks that flare due to the effect he knows he has on you.
His eyes rake over you again, completely enamoured by the breathtaking sight of you, all dolled up in a baby blue spaghetti strap dress with a rather low neckline that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage. Your hair is styled in a lovely braided half-updo that resembles a wreath-like crown, while the short strands of your baby hair are let loose as they hang by your face frame. You apply a minimal amount of makeup that accentuates your features.
When his eyes linger on your pink glossed lips, he is reminded of how sinful they were last night. The recollection of your doe eyes staring up at him as you swallowed all of his cum deep into your throat entices him to reenact last night’s pursuit while on your way to the beach.
“New car?” You inquire in genuine surprise as your eyes sparkle at the sight of a sleek grey Range Rover SUV behind him, oblivious to the erotic thoughts occupying his head at this moment. “I’ve never seen that car before.” You remark, diverting your attention to him.
“It was parked in the other garage, where we store other vehicles we rarely use.” Heeseung tells you in an idle manner, his attention is intently on you. “Are you sure you want to come along with us? The other knights will be there.”
Right. Apparently, Heeseung had plans on staying in the palace with you for the whole day, but earlier in the morning, he received incessant missed calls from three specific individuals before he reluctantly answered one of their calls, only to be persuaded to join the beach party the other knights were hosting. Heeseung did ask you since he didn’t want you to feel lonely in the palace, and he was a tad surprised at your enthusiasm despite knowing how other knights have treated and behaved around you in the past.
Heeseung can see a fleeting uncertainty in your eyes before you give him a firm head nod with a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. It’s a bummer that Jaeyun, Jay, and Sunghoon won’t be there.”
His eyes narrow at your kissable lips, forming a small pout. Adorning a lazy smirk on his lips, he cups your cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty. They’ll be back in no time. Besides,” He leans down to nuzzle his nose with yours, drawing faint giggles from you. “You have me. I’ll keep you occupied, and you’ll eventually forget about them.” His voice is a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
Just as you lean in to press your lips on his, familiar voices pop the intimacy bubble that you are in, prompting you to look to the side where three silhouettes enter the opened garage before their faces greet you, each sporting distinctive beach fits.
“Y/N? You’re coming with us as well?” Jungwon inquires as he raises his eyebrow at you while you nod your head in response. He appears to be holding a volleyball in one hand while the other is occupied with a bag.
“You look lovely, darling.” Sunoo compliments you with a simper smile, but you have an inkling that he is trying to get a reaction out of Heeseung, and you know that you are right the moment Heeseung wraps his arm around your waist with his head dipping down to press a kiss on your shoulder, displaying his possession over you.
“Sunoo was only joking, Heeseung.” Riki rolls his eyes as he smacks the back of Sunoo’s head, eliciting a wince from the latter. Riki briefly glances at you, his face remains impassive. “You look nice.”
Your eyes widen at the mere compliment from Riki, which you totally didn’t expect, given that Jaeyun once told you that Riki rarely gives compliments, even towards his own friends.
Still holding you in his possession with his nose and mouth burying in your hair, Heeseung manages to shoot them a withering glare, prompting the three to avert their gaze as they haphazardly make their way to the SUV.
Finally settling inside the Range Rover, everything smells anew, as if the car had been purchased just earlier. As Heeseung starts the ignition, you proceed to buckle your seatbelt while the three musketeers are seated in the backseat. The commotion from behind consists of Sunoo and Jungwon bickering, and when you take a glance at them, you stifle a chuckle at the amusing sight of Riki seated in the middle seeming to be asleep while the other two continue to bicker.
“Sweetheart, give me your hand.” Heeseung, who is driving you out of the palace, extends his hand out to you with his palm facing upward.
With a soft smile, you place your hand on his palm before he intertwines your fingers together. Your heart beats in a cadence that is beginning to feel familiar as you watch him place a kiss at the back of your hand while his other hand clutches the steering wheel in an expert motion.
“You can go to sleep, if you want.” Heeseung tells you, still holding your hand that is placed above his thigh, as he provides you with comforting warmth from his touch and how perfectly your hand fits his.
“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy.” You decline politely, but the weight pulling down at your eyelids contradicts your words, and soon you find yourself drifting into the familiar realm of sleep.
It seems as though the journey to the beach isn’t that far off, as you are jolted awake by the sound of the car door slamming closed, prompting you to flutter your eyelids open only to be greeted by the sight of the coast from afar. Soon, you and Heeseung trail behind Sunoo and Jungwon while Riki has gone ahead.
“Don’t leave my side.” Heeseung’s breath tickles your earlobe as he speaks softly. His arm around your waist is a display of possession that feels firmer as soon as you enter the scenery of throngs of knights members dominating this entirety of the beach.
“I won’t.” You reassure him with a sweet smile, earning you a kiss on the forehead from him.
“Good. I don’t trust any of them around you except Sunoo, Jungwon, and Riki.” Heeseung murmurs to you before his attention is focused on the knights ahead of you as they wave at him and salute him in different forms of greeting.
Although you feel relief that they don’t seem to gawk their eyes at you or throw any crude remarks at you, you can’t help but notice that the way they avoid staring at you seems deliberate. Little do you know that Heeseung has given them silent warnings just with his steely eyes.
“Heeseung! You came!” Yeonjun’s greeting is one of exuberance as he approaches Heeseung from the side, and you feel Heeseung loosening his grip on you unlike earlier.
“If it weren’t for Jungwon, I wouldn’t be here.” Heeseung tells him with a scoff, his attention solely on Yeonjun as they begin to converse while you distract yourself as your eyes sweep over to the bunch of them in an effervescent element engaging in a sport of volleyball. There is also music blaring from the speakers, adding more vibrancy to the lively atmosphere.
“Anyway, you’re with Y/N now?” Yeonjun’s inquiry grabs hold of your attention. “I know it’s not in any of my business, but what about the others?” You know that he is referring to three specific individuals. “That reminds me. Is this going to end up just as it did before─”
“Sweetheart, are you thirsty? Do you want some water?” Heeseung ignores Yeonjun deliberately, to which you frown in visible confusion. You don’t miss the way Heeseung casts a warning glare at Yeonjun before looking at you with softened eyes. “Do you feel hot?”
“I'm okay, Hee.” You smile awkwardly as he proceeds to bring you away from Yeonjun, and despite your desire to know what Yeonjun meant, you don’t want to piss off Heeseung more than he already is, as evident in the way he holds you.
“Heeseung! Come on!” Jungwon calls Heeseung over to his team. Heeseung seems contemplative as he comes to a halt, his eyes glancing at you. Before he can make a decision, Riki emerges from behind and slings his arm around Heeseung. “Y/N will be fine.” As if Riki read his mind, Heeseung immediately releases you before the younger drags him towards the volleyball section.
As much as you love Heeseung clinging to you, you can’t deny that you feel suffocated at times, especially when the wave of possessiveness rolling from him often knocks the breath out of you. You smack your cheeks lightly, inwardly groaning at the thought of having four men clinging to you, possibly 24/7.
“Why are you slapping yourself?” Taehyun’s voice startles you as your body jolts. You look at the side, only to be greeted with the infectious smile on his charming countenance. “Nice to see you here, Y/N.”
“Taehyun,” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I wasn’t slapping myself.”
“Sure, you weren’t.” Taehyun jokingly rolls his eyes before beckoning you to follow him. “Since you’re looking a little lonely, wanna join us? Plus, your presence could really lift Beomgyu’s mood since he has been a little upset since you rejected his offer the other day.”
“The offer─Oh.” Realisation dawns on you as you recall. With a small smile at Taehyun, you proceed to follow him as he brings you over to the familiar bunch. You ignore the fact that they are shirtless since, after all, they will be venturing out to the waves with surfboards in their grasp. Beomgyu is one of them.
“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” One of them, whom you recognise as Jeongin, casts you a smirk, and his remark draws the others’ attention to you.
“I thought there would be no ladies.” Hyunjin muses, and a predatory glint in his eyes brings you discomfort.
“Don’t you know that she’s an exception now?” Soobin’s tone sounds rather mocking before the collective snickering emitting from them comes, rendering you disheartened at the fact that words have spread to the devil’s knight club about your explicit association with their leaders.
“Enough.” The austerity in Beomgyu’s tone is enough to silence them. “Any disrespect towards Y/N won’t be tolerated.”
“You heard my best friend. Now play nice.” Taehyun’s words of advice are dismissed by them as they proceed to venture out to the waves in the ocean that are approaching while your attention is fixed on Beomgyu.
“Sorry about them. They really need to learn how to shut the fuck up sometimes.” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I really didn’t expect to see you here. So Heeseung wasn’t joking when he said you’d be busy with him, huh?”
“It’s fine, Beomgyu. I’m used to it.” You chuckle dryly. “I heard from Taehyun that a certain someone was being sulky because of me.”
Beomgyu seems almost sheepish as he scratches the back of his head. “Nah, it’s not because of you. Tae totally made that up.” You grow amused as he glares at Taehyun, who feigns innocence in the way he blinks his eyes.
“As much as I would like to talk more with you, a man’s gotta surf.” Beomgyu shoots you a mirthful grin. “You are welcome to watch us surf, by the way.”
“Um…” Your eyes dart at Heeseung from afar, noticing him in his sporty element as he serves the volleyball expertly while his black cap has long since fallen to the sand. Well, since Heeseung is entirely occupied, it won’t hurt for you to watch the other guys surf, right?
Not too long later, you are seated on a small picnic mat by the coast, thanks to Taehyun’s offer, so you won’t have to dirty your dress. Your mouth is agape as you watch in amazement at the sight of them surfing, and at times you find yourself worrying whenever they fall off their surfboards, resulting in them plunging into the relentless waves.
But then, a sense of neglect comes as you pout your lips, getting distracted by the thought of Heeseung. Heeseung has yet to come for you, leaving you to wonder if he has forgotten about you since he is too busy with his fellow knights. The sun on the horizon has even begun its descent as time has passed by quickly.
“Look who is being sulky now.” Beomgyu’s teasing voice pulls you out of your thoughts before you are aware of his presence next to you. When you look at him, his hair is wholly drenched while droplets of water trickle down his skin. “What’s wrong?”
You feel compelled to confide in him after how nice he has been to you. “It’s nothing important.”
“Then why are you still pouting?” Beomgyu points out, his finger is touching your lips. “Don’t pout. You’re not five.”
You gasp in disbelief before shoving him by the shoulder playfully. “Rude.” You give him a scowl, but his chuckles are so infectious that you find yourself joining him. “I don’t know, I mean, I don’t want to come off like a needy girlfriend when I'm not, but I feel kind of neglected.” You begin to unravel your thoughts after the two of you have calmed down.
Beomgyu examines your crestfallen eyes before the view of your side profile greets him as you gaze out at the beautiful dawning horizon. “It’s about Heeseung.” He points out the obvious, and the certain edge in his tone goes unnoticed by you. “You two used to be rivals, so what changed now?”
A soft smile touches your lips. “I guess you can say feelings have changed. It turned out, I didn’t really hate him as much as I thought I did.”
Beomgyu merely hums. “Heeseung is a great guy. You can be assured that he’ll take good care of you.” You can’t help but discern the lack of sincerity in his compliment.
Nevertheless, you continue to vent your feelings to him, inattentive to your surroundings, which include the danger hurling towards you. “I don’t know, Beomgyu. Is it even possible to like four people at once─”
“Y/N, look out!” It all happens too fast for you to comprehend, because one moment you feel assured by his oddly comforting presence to confide in him, and the next, you find yourself being pinned down to the sand, your eyes widening as he hovers on top of you.
“W-What just happened?” Confusion laces in your voice while there is unsettling turmoil in your tummy, and you have no idea whether it’s the position you are in or the fact that you feel a pair of heated eyes at you that is not Beomgyu’s.
“Volleyball.” Beomgyu says as you follow the movement of his eyes before you spot the volleyball just a few metres from you. “You almost got hit.”
“Ah, thanks.” You utter distraughtly as he slowly backs away from you. You cast him a small yet curt smile before rising from the ground. “I’m just gonna head off to the washroom.”
“Oh, do you need me to come with you?” He asks, standing as well.
You immediately shake your head. “It’s okay! I just want to wash my face.” You attempt to politely refuse him, but even you know that your words are uttered in a ramble. Without waiting for his response, you quickly navigate your way to the washroom, which is thankfully not that far off from where you are.
Still, you can’t shake off the feeling of eyes on your figure, and the first person that comes to mind is Heeseung. Colours begin to drain from your face at the realisation that he may or may not have seen what happened, but it was not as if you and Beomgyu did anything beyond appropriate.
Your heart nearly jumps at the sound of your phone chiming in your pocket, and your first thought is the anonymous person. Groaning out, you fish out your phone and unlock your phone screen, but the notification comes from someone you didn’t expect, and just seeing his name is enough to bring dread to you.
HEESEUNG: Turn around.
You do so slowly before finally spotting Heeseung not far from you, as he is still being surrounded by familiar and unfamiliar faces. The bill of his cap casts a shadow over his face as he appears to be speaking with them while a smirk occasionally tips at his lips. He appears to be looking down at his phone before his dark eyes finally meet yours fleeting, and it is enough for you to be alarmed.
Ding! You look down again to read.
HEESEUNG: Go back to the car and get into the backseat.
Even though it is an odd instruction, you don’t question it further as you find yourself walking in haste, almost as if you are getting away from your predator before it captures you. But wait…perhaps you should devise an escape scheme, or maybe you shouldn’t, but the sudden adrenaline rush in you feels overpowering.
Ding! You check your phone again, and this time, you know you are in for something.
HEESEUNG: Keep walking, and don’t even think of trying to escape.
That is when you know he’s not far behind you. You begin to pick up the pace while your heart pounds harder against your chest. It isn’t long before you finally reach the SUV and head for the backseat, where the door has been unlocked.
You can hear your pulse drumming in your ear as you regulate your breathing, while the stillness in the car feels rather suspended as you wait in uncertain anticipation. Seated on the right side, the door beside you swings open, startling you. Upon his ominous arrival, you slowly yet discreetly scoot away from him.
“Heeseung─” You gasp loudly while your heart lurches in your chest as you find yourself being pinned to the seat with his fingers seizing your neck in a threatening hold. Your body feels as though you have been paralysed underneath him. You open your mouth to speak, but he silences you with his lips and thrusts his tongue into your mouth forcibly, allowing you to taste the fresh taste of his cigarette while his cap falls off his head.
The tension crackling in the air is like electricity, one that sends you perpetual shivers all over your body. The disoriented sound emerging from the back of your throat is a mingling of both whimper and moan that parallels your confusion and fright for the enraged male who is kissing you as though he is punishing you.
Tears prick in your eyes as he bites down your bottom lip painfully, nearly drawing out blood. You attempt to push him away from you, but his grip on your neck tightens, nearly blocking the airways that have faint black dots appearing in your vision.
You hate it. You hate it that you feel petrified of Heeseung at this very moment, knowing that he can easily snap your dainty neck with just one move. You whimper, accepting defeat, as he manages to draw out blood from your bottom lip while it throbs.
“What the fuck was that?” His gravelly, deep voice sounds rough as he speaks into your mouth, while your lips feel swollen by his unforgiving kisses and bites.
“Heeseung.” You whimper helplessly, still trying to resist him as you valiantly push him in the chest, but he grabs both of your wrists with ease and has them locked above your head with one hand.
His tongue licks at the seam of your lip, tasting your blood. “I just can’t leave you alone for a while, can I?” He scoffs out, the corner of his lips upturning a smirk while his callous eyes penetrate into your glistening ones. “And you dared to go to Beomgyu after I told you not to go near him? Fuck, you really like to test my patience that much, don’t you?”
“I didn’t!” You try to deny it despite feeling lightheaded at the restricting air in you, but that only earns you a degrading scoff from him. He releases your neck, allowing you to regulate your erratic breathing while you hear some shuffles before you feel his hands invading underneath your dress to search for your underwear just to practically tear it apart, eliciting a gasp from you.
“Heeseung!” You attempt to close your legs, hating that your body and awaiting cunt are anticipating him. Your disobedience earns you a slap on your thigh before he forces your legs apart as you are fully bare from below.
Your hips jerk at the sensitivity of his thumb stroking your clit before the pad of his fingers slides down on your slit, every rub he administers feels deceptive. “Seungie─Ah!” You yelp out as soon as his hand lands a sharp smack on your pussy while the sound echoes in the car.
“Oh, sweetheart, I was hurt.” He sighs as his fingers rubbing your slit feel deliberate, almost cunning, before he smacks your pussy again, and this time twice as hard that you swear you feel the searing burn. “You smiled, laughed, and even fucking touched him.”
A whimper leaves your lips, hating yet loving the pain as he abuses your pussy again, but soon the arousal comes forth, and when he lands a sharp smack to your clit, you arch your back while a moan tears from your throat.
“You’re not supposed to like this, sweetheart.” He scoffs out a smirk before delivering another smack on your clit. “Only desperate, pathetic sluts are supposed to find this enjoyable. Are you one?”
“N-No!” You gasp as he plunges two fingers deep into your sopping heat, scissoring you at an unforgiving pace yet with precision that has you going lightheaded.
“Yeah, you are slut. A dirty fucking slut.” He sneers down at you, watching as your face contorts into pleasure as you moan out with your head thrown to the back. Your hands move haphazardly to latch on his moving wrist, needing him to shove his fingers deeper while his dark chuckles send shivers through you before he withdraws from you. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take the whole of me and everything I give to you like the good fucking girl you are.”
Panic blooms in your chest as you lift your head to get a better view of his cock as he settles in between you. You try to scramble away from him, fearing the possibility of him tearing your insides apart upon seeing the thickness and length of his enraging cock, but he effortlessly pulls you by the legs and spreads them wider, and he thank fuck that the SUV is spacious enough.
“Heeseung, please!” Fear laces in the tremor of your voice as your hips jolt at the sensation of him smacking the head of his cock on your sensitive nub, and yet, you can feel your cunt throbbing incessantly with need and anticipation. “Hee─”
You can feel it — the head of his cock breaching in between your fluttery walls — and he doesn’t relent even as you whimper out your pleas, which only turns him on. He grits his teeth, feeling the resistance of your fluttery walls hugging him tight, but with an unbridled urgency, his cock manages to bury inside of you fully with one vigorous yet swift thrust. “Oh, fuck,” He hisses lowly, feeling your tight resistance of around him.
You feel like a sweet virgin when, in fact, your pussy has been used an uncountable number of times by his best friends, and that itself ignites a blazing jealousy in him. He does an experimental thrust as he watches your face contort into pain while a feeble yet cute moan spills from your lips and your eyes flutter closed with your back arched before drawing his cock out with a long drag against your walls, the head remaining inside before he decides to expunge any mercy as he delivers a hard, deliberate thrust, burying his cock to the hilt.
“Seungie.” Tears are welling in your eyes as the painful stretch persists while your cunt so desperately tries to accommodate his cock. With his body hovering on top of you, your arms hook around his broad, dependent shoulders while your legs slowly wrap around his waist, drawing a smirk on his lips at how you evidently submit yourself to him.
“Gonna make sure you remember that you belong to me and ruin you for anyone.” His tone holds dark promises while his hauntingly beautiful eyes darken with an insatiable desire, distracting you momentarily from the pain in the way he is drilling his cock into your sopping cunt with his hips slamming down painfully on yours. “Just wanna lock you up and keep you hidden from everyone else.”
“Ugh! Hee!” A loud moan emerges from the back of your throat as he fucks his pent-up emotions into you, prompting you to unhook your arm from his shoulder to muffle your mouth with the back of your hand while tears continue to accumulate in your lower lids. Each thrust he delivers incites your quivering muscles, causing them to contract and enclasp his cock.
Heeseung narrows his eyes at you, not liking the fact that you are pathetically trying to muffle the sweet sounds from your mouth. With one hand beside your head to support his weight, he uses the other to pull your hand away from your panting mouth and intertwine your fingers with his before placing them above your head.
“Please! Please! Please!” You begin to blabber, any remnants of resistance in you dissolve as each pelting thrust builds new heights of pleasure while your hips move in tandem with his.
Heeseung captures your lips in a sloppy kiss that punctuates the cold, stagnant car. With your lips parting open, he swallows every breath and moans from you, his tongue probing in your hot cavern and clashing with your tongue. Without letting up the pace of his thrust, he begins to make out with your tongue, exchanging saliva and sucking your tongue, which creates a sound so lewd in your ears.
“Yeahhhh, sweetheart,” He whispers amorously into your moaning mouth, his voice laden with lust, loving the way you every so often roll your eyes to the back while your arch causes your boobs to press against his chest. “Feels good, yeah? You love my cock?”
You nod your head as you feel delirious. “Mmhmm! I love it!” You moan out, feeling a knot form in your tummy.
“That’s fucking right. My cock, not Beomgyu’s or anyone else’s.” He snarls coldly as he releases your bound wrists, only for his hand to make its descent, his fingers now curling around your throat. “Only I can satisfy you.”
“Hee!” You gasp out as he squeezes your neck, nearly blocking the airways and rendering your breath ragged. The fear is soon eclipsed by intense pleasure as he has you in a chokehold. Just as black dots begin to appear in your vision, he loosens his grip on your neck just slightly. Your swollen, irresistible lips entice him to seal you in a searing kiss.
“Ugh! Hee!” Your moans sound like a broken record against his lips, your impending orgasm teetering at the edge. “I’m─”
“Oh no, you don’t.” His cruelty shines through his smirk while he doesn’t let up his thrust. “You don’t deserve to cum. You’re going to be my dump cum slut, and your sweet cunt is going to milk every drop of my cum.”
“Seungie! Please!” A sob spills from your numb lips, with tears leaking from your eyes. Like a bitch in heat, you rut your hips against him, intensifying your teetering orgasm. “I-I’m sorry! You’re the only one I want!”
“Yeah? Then fucking say it.” He grunts out, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your temple. “Say that you won’t be anywhere near Beomgyu or any man who is not us.”
“I promise I won’t!” You give him your word so easily without much consideration, the earnest in your punctuation seems to satisfy him. He removes his hand from your neck and drags his fingers down your quivering stomach until they reach your clit “Ugh! Please, Hee! I want to cum!”
Heeseung only smirks in response as he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb in patterns before pressing it down deeper, eliciting a loud moan from you. “Yeahhh, go ahead, pretty baby. Cum for me.”
“Oh fuck!” You cry out, throwing your head back as you feel something overpowering, causing your body to writhe underneath him while every fibre of your being sizzles with white-hot pleasure. “Heeseung!” You scream as soon as you feel it.
“Yeah, babyy. Fucking squirt for me.” Heeseung grits his teeth as he doesn’t let up his administration on your bundle of nerves, even as you squirt for him, bathing him with your essence while your body convulses uncontrollably. “That’s it. Oh, that’s a good slut.”
You whimper weakly in response; your body is totally spent, and you swear you can feel bruises on your hips due to how hard he slammed. Heeseung’s hunger for you is insatiable, as his eyes rake all over you before he unsheathes his cock from your fluttery hole.
Just as you think Heeseung is done, he leans forward, his hands around your spent body, and manhandles you into a position that has you perched on his lap. Despite your weakened limbs, you attempt to resist him.
“No, please, no.” You protest weakly as his hand holds you by the waist to lift you up with such ease.
“Yeahhhhh baby,” He drawls, a heavy lust projecting in the rasp of his voice. “Gonna fuck you some more, beautiful.”
“W-Wait! Heeseung─!” A broken moan spills past your lips at the sheer girth of his ramming cock that nestles deep inside of you with his firm hands on your hips, forcing you down on him. “Heeseung! Please!”
“Don’t worry. I’m gonna fuck you so good again.” He smirks against your skin before placing a kiss on your pulse, revelling in the sweet sound of your moans and cries as you plead. “Yeah? My good girl just wants to be fucked, doesn’t she? That’s why you’re fucking soaked all over me.”
“No.” Tears cascade in rivulets down your cheeks as you shake your head, hating and loving the immense pleasure he is giving you for the second time.
“Yesss.” His teeth sink into your skin, grunting deeply with each hard and deliberate thrust he delivers into your overstimulated yet soaked cunt that feels unforgiving. His fingers are tangled in your hair to grip it as he forces you to face the roof of the car while the other hand cages your waist.
This time, the way he is fucking into you feels more for his pleasure, as though you are his fucktoy. The continuous sound of splat!-splat! as you bounce onto his cock is disgustingly lewd. With your neck bare in his hungry eyes, he latches his lips on your throat, humming against you and sending vibrations to your throat before trailing his kisses across your neck. He releases his grip from your hair as he dips his head down, allowing his face to burrow into the nook of your neck with sweat trickling down your skin.
“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He announces huskily while his hot breath hits the sheen of your skin. His arms slither around your waist to pull your body closer to his while his hips relentlessly buck up, and you swear you can feel his cock bruising your cervix.
With a languid moan, you force yourself to wrap both arms around his neck, hugging him close as you await his arrival. Hearing his low guttural moan, he holds you down firmly without any possible escape for you as he finally shoots a white rope of cum into you, sealing your fate with his.
Silence engulfs the two of you with the accompanying sound of your laboured breathing. He doesn’t say anything, only hugging you with his face still buried in the nook of your neck. You take this moment to observe your surroundings, and your eyes widen at the condensation from all the fucking evident on the car windows, but thankfully, they’re factory-tinted glasses, so it is nearly impossible for anyone to learn of your dirty tango inside the car unless they come closer.
“Heeseung.” Panic is evident in your voice while your eyes widen at the sight of knights entering the parking lot, as they seem to be heading back since the weather has turned gloomy with droplets of rain descending.
Heeseung merely hums, completely unbothered, as he kisses your neck leisurely before deciding to add another of his marks to your delicate skin, distracting you from panicking at the pleasurable sensation of his lips assaulting the sensitive part of your neck.
“Heeseung!” You whisper, tapping his shoulder repeatedly. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you watch some knights walk past the Range Rover from each side while commotions emanating from them can be heard. “Heeseung! Stop! They might see us!”
“I don’t see a problem with that.” He murmurs against your skin before pulling away, satisfied to see a fresh hickey embellished on your skin for him to proudly display to anyone that it’s his mark. “Even if they see us, we’ll be giving them a show.”
You gasp at the sensation of him bucking up his hips as he thrusts his cock into your wholly drenched cunt. “H-Heeseung─” Just as he delivers a jarring thrust, a loud moan accidentally tears from your throat before he silences you with his palm covering the whole of your mouth, nearly suffocating you.
“Shhh, you don't want them to know that we’re fucking, right? Or maybe you do?”” He asks mockingly as you shake your head frantically. A muffled moan elicits from you as he thrusts again. “You wanna let everyone know how much of a slut you are for my cock, don’t you?”
Upon feeling your walls clench around his cock at the unceasing degradation, dark chuckles leave his lips. “Yeahh, keep clenching around me like that. You love it when I’m mean to you, yeah?” He asks huskily as he uncovers your mouth, allowing the noise from you to be let loose as he forces you to bounce onto his cock for a few times before he lifts you away from him.
“Get on your fours.” The sheer authority exuding from him compels you to heed his instruction, whimpering as embarrassment washes over you with the entirety of your ass facing him. Your body jolts in surprise just as he delivers a harsh smack on your ass cheek at the same time as the thunderous storm in the sky before heavy rain begins its descent.
Goosebumps arise on your skin at this temperature. Your head is level with the window, allowing you to see some knights walking and running to their vehicles. A moan falls past your lips as soon as his cock rams into you, the squelching sound a testament to your essence emulsifying with his.
“Fucking hell. Just can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, baby.” Heeseung says in between heavy, ragged breaths as he hits it from behind, his hand pressing down on your lower back, forcing you to form a perfect arch of your back. “Oh, you are so perfect for me, my beloved.”
You moan out in response as you move your hips to meet his thrust. “Seungie, more, please! Oh! Right there!”
“Yeah? Right there?” His husky voice causes your cunt to clench around him. “Oh, fuck, baby. That’s your spot, isn’t it?”
“Mmmhmm!” You bite down your lower lip, your eyes fluttering close, just as he grabs a chunk of your hair for leverage while his other hand grips your hip. “You fuck me so good, Hee.” You say in a languid slur.
“I know, pretty.” He smirks down at you while his hand searches for your clit to rub it furiously, drawing more moans from you. “I’m gonna cum in you over and over again. You’ll take it like the cum dump you are, will you?”
“Yes.” You nod your head, desiring for him to fill you up to the brim. “Hee, kiss me.” Upon your polite request, he finds it hard to refuse you, and so, with his fingers in your hair, he raises your body until your chest hits his back. He seizes your chin to turn your head to the perfect angle for him to kiss you hard.
“I’m cumming.” You murmur into the kiss, your hand latches onto his wrist as he continues to rub your bundle of nerves.
“Cum with me again, sweetheart.” He pants against your moist lips before you pull away from him and rest the back of your head on his shoulder while your hand reaches up to grip his hair. “Your pussy was made perfect for me and me only.” He continues to deliver his dirty talk into your ear, even as your pussy spasms around him as you come undone with him.
Heeseung feels your body shivering in his embrace. “Are you cold, my beloved?” He asks softly, taking you by surprise at the instantaneous change of his whole demeanour into the gentle, soft-spoken Heeseung that you have grown affectionate for.
“Yes.” You reciprocate in the same tone despite having to regulate your ragged breathing. As you look at him, the gentleness in his eyes is fleeting before the familiar darkness takes over.
“It’s okay, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” Within a matter of seconds, he has you settled on his lap and wastes no time in burying his cock into you as he forces you down.
“Seungie.” You whine before he seals you into a kiss, gradually turning into a sloppy make-out session as you feel the sheer exertion from all the fucking.
“Pretty girl,” He sighs against your lips, smirking as he slowly bucks up his hip. “Let’s fuck some more.”
Lee Heeseung is a beast under the disguise of doe-eyed Bambi, you think.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
Having the whole palace to yourself is something you never expected. Apparently, Heeseung had to attend a knights’ soirée where only exclusive members were invited, including the alumni, which would be hosted at a private bungalow owned by Sunghoon. That also explains the reason why Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon have been far from your reach since they have been busy planning and organising for the soirée.
Still, you feel a tad sullen that the three of them couldn’t be bothered to call you just once. Upon having seen your not-so-subtle petulance, Heeseung decided to grant you the liberty to do whatever your heart desires, for as long as you steer clear of the second level, specifically the south wing area.
It is odd since you feel as though he was warning you. Your mind begins to recall your conversation with Heeseung earlier.
“But why can’t I?” You inquire, your lips forming a small pout, while your eyes sparkle with genuine curiosity as you watch him trying to secure his tie underneath his white collar shirt in front of the full-length mirror. You can’t help but narrow your eyes at how his attempt seems deliberate, as though he is purposefully failing at tying it.
Heeseung casts a side glance at you as you are seated on top of the dressing table with your legs swinging back and forth lightly in an airy manner and your palms placed on the edge of the table as you slant your body forward. His cock twitches beneath the confines at how lovely yet luscious you look in a pink floral-printed dress with the hems hiked up above your plush thighs.
“It is more for your sake, sweetheart. Besides, you need to enter the correct passcode for you to be able to gain access to the whole place.” There is an undercurrent of warning along the lines, and you know you ought to exercise prudence. Heeseung narrows his sharp eyes at the crease on your forehead. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not!” You deny, huffing pettily. Deciding to put an end to your niggling curiosity, you decide to direct your focus at his rather flimsy hands that are still tying a knot, to which your eyes twitch in irritation. “Hee, you’ve been trying for the past ten minutes!”
“If only someone is kind enough to help me.” A smirk plays on his lips while mischief dances delightfully in his eyes, and that is when you have an inkling that he has been failing on purpose. “Come on, sweetheart. Do I need to be straightforward and ask you the obvious?”
You playfully narrow your eyes at him, but nevertheless, you gravitate towards him until you stand in front of him. You try to ignore the heat of his gaze on your face as you fall into concentration on tying the perfect knot for him. “Stop staring at me.” You mutter, finally finishing the last touch before you adjust his collar shirt.
“I have eyes, pretty. I can stare at you for as long as I want.” Heeseung has you trapped with his hands on your waist. Your rosy cheeks flare under the intensity of his dark gaze as he pulls you closer until your body is flushed against his. “I’m gonna miss you, pretty.”
You scoff lightly as you ignore the untamed butterflies in your tummy. “You're only going to be gone for a day.”
“A day is too long.” Heeseung dips his head down to press a chaste kiss at the corner of your lips. "Mmmhm, maybe I should stay here with you.”
“Heeseung.” You attempt to push him away in the chest, but he doesn’t deter in the slightest as he proceeds to capture your lips in a toe-curling kiss. You melt against him with your arms hooked around his neck. “You should go now, handsome.” You manage to speak in between kisses.
“I should.” He agrees before he slowly backs you up without breaking the passionate lip lock until your bum hits the edge of the dressing table. He chuckles breathily into the kiss, his lips turning into a smirk. “Maybe in a while.”
And so, ever since Heeseung stepped out of the threshold, you have ventured your pursuits in your way around the palace with an unbridled enthusiasm ─ playing in the arcade, watching a romcom movie in the private theatre, cooking a simple dish in which you failed miserably, and you even went to their private bar where you attempted at making a cocktail of your own recipe, or at least you tried to, and it tasted rather questionable.
But the enjoyment of having the palace to yourself soon diminishes, hurling you into a state of boredom. It’s even worse when your heart yearns for the four men who manage to weasel their way into your heart despite their differences.
A sigh leaves your lips as your boredom has reached its peak, prompting you to lean forward to grab the controller and switch off the television that has been going animated idly. You rise from the velvet couch and stretch out your limbs before checking the time on your phone, seeing that it has struck 11pm. You have been made aware by Heeseung that he would return late, and so you begin to make your way to the stairs with the intention of heading to your room.
Just as you reach the second level, your phone vibrates in your grasp as it chimes loudly, shattering the quietude. Naturally, you expect the notification from either of the four men, but as soon as your eyes fall to your phone screen, the smile on your lips falters.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s been quite some time since our last text. Missed me, sweetheart?
Now that you are firm in your presumption that this is definitely not Heeseung, a flare of temerity surges through you. With a scowl on your face, you proceed to type out your reply.
Y/N: No, and I know you’re not Heeseung.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: So you’re absolutely certain that I’m not him?
Y/N: Yup. So whatever mind games you’re playing with me are not going to work anymore.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I miss you, you know? I’m hurt that you’re being so cold over the text, sweetheart.
Y/N: You should really stop acting like Heeseung.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Why? Because he calls you sweetheart the way I do? Does it ever occur to you that I might be him?
Y/N: And for what? Heeseung is not the type to waste his time preying on an innocent girl over texts.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: 301120
You blink your eyes while confusion fills your head upon seeing the digits.
Y/N: What is it for?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s the passcode that allows you to gain access to the prohibited part of the palace for anyone, unless you’re a knight.
It seems that your lack of response serves as a hesitation for him before he texts again.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Come on, pretty. I know you want to. Besides, you’ve been thinking about it, right? Forget about earlier. I’m now permitting you.
Pretty. Only Heeseung calls me that.
Y/N: How the hell did you know?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: I told you before that I might or might not be yours truly :) Now go on. Once you reach, I need you to follow my instructions.
Moments later, you find yourself standing outside of the steel-built door. Your eyes dart down at your phone before you proceed to punch the correct passcode at the smart keypad, and at once, the door automatically opens, but the sight that greets you startles you while every fibre of your being sizzles with perturbation.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: See that white door? I need you to go inside.
You don’t question how he knows your every step, as though he is watching you. You take a glance at the distinct white door that contrasts with the others before you advance forward. He sends a text again, entailing his instructions once more, which you obediently heed. Not long later, you have entered a cold, stagnant office that feels oddly eerie, probably due to how dark it is with the moonlight streaming into the window.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Good girl. Now head over to the desk and unlock the computer. The password is your birth date.
“Huh?” Your face contorts into confusion, but you don’t waste time as you gravitate towards the desk that is adjacent to the window. Although you are eager, you feel rather hesitant, while a sense of dread creeps up on you as though at every twist and turn, you feel eyes watching your every movement.
Y/N: I don’t understand. What is on the computer that you need me to do instead of you?
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Less typing, more doing the work, sweetheart. Now, I want you to search for the file named 001 and click on it.
“What?” You whisper, and your heart seems to pound erratically against your chest. You don’t want to believe in his words, but your inner turmoil states otherwise. And so you proceed on, your trembling fingers typing on the keyboard, before you finally succeed in logging in.
The screen displays files that have been arranged in rows. Your eyes search for the aforementioned file before you spot it near the corner. Your hand moves the mouse on the pad to click on it, but once it does, a pop-up webpage appears, requiring you to enter the passcode. You lean back against the swivel chair as you await his next instruction, but minutes have passed and you receive zero notification.
With an impatient huff, you decide to take charge and type in the passcodes you have in mind, but none of them is the right one. Right after your third attempt, you become startled at the warning popup that you have exceeded the number of attempts. Your phone chimes again, and when you look over, his contact shocks and alarms you.
HEESEUNG: Are you asleep, sweetheart? I’m on my way back, and I have a little surprise for you. You’ll see the surprise once you wake up.
“Shit.” You mutter under your breath before deciding to forgo everything Anonymous has instructed you, despite your curiosity about wanting to know what sort of content the mysterious file contains. It even remains lingering in your mind as you are cocooned in your fleecy blanket before you drift off to your deep slumber, uncertain of what tomorrow awaits you.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
“We’re the ones who organised the event, and yet they’re the stars of the show.” Jake expresses his clear disdain towards the four familiar elders from afar, who are being surrounded by the other alumni as well as their fellow knights. “Maybe we shouldn’t have invited them.”
“You’re right.” Sunghoon chuckles darkly, leaning his back against the chair leisurely with one leg crossed over the other. His callous eyes penetrated into his father’s face. “Maybe I should’ve drugged his drink and killed him.”
“Easy.” Jay says, his eyes holding a warning as he looks over to an annoyed Sunghoon. “I wouldn’t have stopped you anyway, but Heeseung said to steer clear of trouble for tonight.”
Sunghoon snorts a chuckle as he reaches for his glass of wine. “What did I say? The guy would turn soft because of Y/N, and I was right.”
“He always has a soft spot for Y/N.” Jake tells them quietly, and the mention of your name pulls the strings in his heart as he has long since yearned for you. “He likes her even before the preying.”
“And you know this, how?” Jay inquires with a single eyebrow arched, his tone sounds mocking enough to elicit an irritation from Jake. “Right. You and Heeseung must’ve shared secrets during your one-night stand.”
“Fuck you, dude.” Jake cusses out but remains seated, to which Sunghoon is surprised at his lack of retaliation.
“Where is Heeseung, anyway?” The aforementioned disappearance dawns on Sunghoon as he darts his eyes around his surroundings.
“He probably went for a smoke break.” Jay shrugs his shoulders, one hand in his pocket while the other is holding his e-cigarette, before he begins to take a puff of the flavourful aerosol.
“Heeseung.” Jake spots him entering the main section of the soirée, sauntering towards them with ease while his face remains collected. “Where were you?”
“Got a little busy.” Heeseung’s vague answer doesn’t seem to bother them. He settles on a chair next to Jake, his body facing in the direction where his father can be seen in an amiable element. “Wanna know something interesting?”
“Don’t keep us waiting.” Sunghoon’s interest is piqued as he leans his body forward. “What is it?”
A smirk plays on Heeseung’s lips while his fingers are tapping on the table in a calculated motion. “It looks like our angel decided to be a curious kitten and got herself into trouble.”
“What did she do?” Jake inquires, his eyebrows softly knit together as he grows concerned for you despite knowing that you may or may not have broken a rule or two in Heeseung’s book.
Heeseung merely hums in response as he brings his glass of champagne to his lips before taking small sips. Thankfully, he is able to receive a notification from an app that allows him to view any point he wants since he has implemented hidden cameras in his office, or else he wouldn’t have been alerted of your transgression.
“Isn’t that Y/N’s mother?” Jay’s surprised inquiry draws their attention to the lady, whose body is draped in a red satin dress, as she strides across the hall as though she owns the place. There is such a stark contrast in the ambience she exudes compared to her daughter.
Sunghoon lets out a low whistle, his eyes raking all over her. “Damn. She looks even better up close. Now we know where Y/N got her looks from.”
“Fucking hell. Don’t tell me you’re into milfs?” Jake shoves Sunghoon roughly in the shoulder as his face contorts into disgust.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Jay seems rather enraged by her presence, as evident in the way he clenches his jaw while his steely eyes drill into her figure. “She’s the reason why Y/N was a crying mess that one night.”
“Heeseung.” Sunghoon utters his name as they look at him. Although they are the leaders as well, they innately feel compelled to obey and heed Heeseung’s words.
Heeseung simply adorns a simper smile on his lips while he watches your mother engage in what seems like a polite conversation with his father and theirs, but he is no stranger to the longing and lingering stares exchanged between them. “Let’s sit back and watch the whole thing unfold, shall we?”
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
When morning dawns, the fresh yet lovely fragrance pervading your nostrils rouses you before you flutter your eyes open and turn your head to the side, only to be greeted by the sight of a bouquet of roses at your nightstand.
Any remnants of somnolence dissipate as you are overwhelmed with a giddiness that blooms in your chest. So this was what Heeseung meant by his surprise. Eager to see him, you hop into the shower and freshen yourself up. It takes some time for you since you faced a little difficulty in choosing the casual dress of the day, knowing that Heeseung loves it whenever you wear one.
As soon as you reach outside his room, you see the door ajar before you knock to announce your arrival. “Hee?” Just as you slowly push open, the door swings abruptly, causing you to fall forward into him before he swiftly holds you steady.
“Seungie!” You greet him cheerily, your face beaming a smile that brings a fond one to his lips.
“A good morning, indeed.” Heeseung chuckles before he leans down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, which you reciprocate with fervour. He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes softening with adoration as he caresses your cheek. “How was my surprise?”
“I love it! Thank you so much.” You grin bashfully before caving into your impulse to kiss his cheek. “How was last night?”
“It was fine, but it would have been better if you were there with me.” His face burrows in the nook of your neck while his arms cage your waist as he embraces you. “Now I have all day with you.”
In all honesty, you should have kept your distance from him after what happened last night. The maelstrom of inquiries rampages within the confines of your mind; each is a task to grapple with. You refuse to believe that the anonymous person is him since it is illogical, but a part of you strongly believes that Heeseung is him, merely because he permitted you by giving you the access code and called you ‘pretty’ when only Heeseung loves calling you that, and so you back away from his touch.
You see him raising his eyebrow at you, probably noticing the abrupt change in the way you are being, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.
“I’m hungry. Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You ask politely, trying your utmost not to cower from him as he steps closer to grab your hand.
“I would love to.” Heeseung intertwines your fingers, a firm latch that has you acquiescing. It is frustrating to you because, despite your current firm belief that he is the anonymous guy, another part of you indignantly wants to be closer to him.
As his arm slithers around your waist, you hesitantly allow yourself to lean into his touch. Maybe it won’t hurt for you to sinfully enjoy the intimate closeness with the guy who you believed had been the one who creeped you out all along.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
As time passes, you feel a sense of imminent loom, especially in the way Heeseung acts and how he plays his words in riddles that are awfully like Anonymous did, so it only amplifies your unwavering presumption.
“Where are we going?” You ask as you trail behind him. You try to sound as if you’re curious, but in actuality, you recognise the route he is taking as he seemingly guides you.
“To the wonders of horror.” Heeseung looks over your shoulder with a sly grin. Again, you are thrown into the whirlwind of confusion at his words, which is evident on your face and brings out a lighthearted chuckle from him. “I’m kidding, but aren’t you curious about what the prohibited part of the palace holds?”
You give him a bewildered stare. “But you said that I should steer clear of the south wing.”
“And I’m permitting you now.” His words give you a whiplash. “Don’t worry. I’m obviously one of the authorizers, so you won’t be getting into trouble.” A smirk touches his lips.
It isn’t long before you finally reach outside of the familiar steel-built door. Despite knowing the passcode, you look away as he proceeds to punch in the code on the smart padlock before hearing the door automatically open.
You clear your throat as you fall in the same steps as him. “I didn’t expect for the inside to be this big.” You remark, feigning surprise in your tone as you ostensibly look around in wonderment.
“Only the knights have access to this place.” Heeseung informs you, and from the looks of it, he seems to believe in your ruse. “We have five meeting rooms in total. Four for our respective house meetings and one for general meetings, which we usually gather on every Devil’s Night.”
“I see.” You nod your head in understanding the new information. Heeseung proceeds to give you more information with each room you walk past. You shudder lightly when he points out the rooms where they store different classes of weapons.
“That’s my office.” Heeseung tells you as he points his thumb in the direction of where the familiar white door is. “Regular knights aren’t permitted to enter unless they want to face the consequences.”
You swallow down the lump in your throat harshly. “Oh.” is what you manage to utter. Thankfully, Heeseung doesn’t seem to notice the tremor in your voice as he proceeds to guide you in the other direction, where his house meeting room is.
You look away just as he punches in the code on the smart padlock before the door opens, allowing you to enter first. “Why did you bring me here?” You ask as you remain stationary in your spot, your eyes examining the room and noting how spacious it is with lavish ornaments, including velvet couches arrayed at each side, distinct designed masks and paintings hanging on the walls, and a fairly lengthy table with a glossy marbled surface that is in the centre of the room.
“Oh, you know, just showing you what’s in this room before you could get too curious again.” Heeseung states calmly as he saunters towards the table, whereas you go completely frigid at the undercurrent that coils dread in you. “This meeting room is soundproof.”
As Heeseung finally faces you, his hands are tucked in his pockets while he leans his lower back on the edge of the table, allowing you to get a clearer discernment of his demeanour that drains the colour of your face.
He knows.
“Why did you tell me that?” You inquire, and your voice shakes with a palpable tremor that brings him wicked delight.
“Because I would hate for you to lose your voice from screaming so much.” A fleeting smile of wickedness touches his lips before a shadow casts over his demeanour. Your pulses drum in your ear as you notice the drastic shift in his gear, as though he is an entirely different person. No longer is there warmth or affection in his eyes. Just stark coldness.
“Heeseung….” You utter his name in a splintered whisper, taking one feeble step back, as if taking prudence in any case he decides to chase you.
“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t think that I wouldn’t know?” Heeseung adorns a cynical smile on his hauntingly cold countenance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words fly from your mouth without any warrant, causing you to bite down on the flesh of your inner cheek.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about. But I want to hear the confession from your mouth.” You can see it in his eyes—the storms raging in silence at your audacity. “Did you trespass on my office, Y/N?”
Not sweetheart, pretty, or even beloved. Just your name being uttered in a cold detachment that is painfully foreign to you.
The unsettling tension feels oppressive as it tethers your neck, while the fear that resides in your heart manifests in the uneven rise and fall of your chest. Every fibre of your being is telling you to flee him, but it is as though you are rendered immobilised under his piercing gaze that is fixed solely on your transfixed figure.
Goosebumps arise on your skin, and you swear that the cold temperature in the room has dropped to subzero. The longer the penetrating silence that shrouds the foreboding atmosphere in the room persists, the more reason for you to grasp the opportunity to escape, especially since he is further away from you and most probably unable to catch up to you.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.” His once honeyed-dripping tone sounds eerily dark, with a rasp projecting in his husky voice, evoking involuntary yet familiar lust amidst the palpable terror. “Did you, or did you not trespass on my office?”
“I─” Just when you finally find your voice, it disappears again, prompting you to smack your lips shut and swallow the frightful lump in your throat. Your nails digging into your palms form the shapes of crescents as you clench your fist.
Confusion finds its way to plunge into the whirlpool of torrential emotions within you. You were certain that he was the anonymous guy who had been sending you all those texts, and you even followed his instructions. Could all of these be some sort of twisted test he decided to experiment on you?
Of course, it could be. After all, Lee Heeseung is as detrimental as his comrades.
You mentally nod your head to yourself, firm in your suspicion that Heeseung is indeed the anonymous guy, but you’re not about to let it be known to him.
“I didn’t─”
Heeseung scoffs out a chuckle at your audacity, his lips upturning a smirk while his eyes gleam dangerously with explicable sentiments that have you fully grasping the severity of your situation.
“What did I say about lying? Hmm?” He leans away from the table, his hands remaining tucked in his pockets, as each step he takes towards you is deliberate and stalking, while his dark, piercing eyes penetrate into your frightful ones.
Run! Your mind screams at you to run away from your predator before he devours you.
“T-That you hate liars.” Your timorous voice shakes as you finally regain mobility, now taking steps back. You see it in his eyes — how he finds great delight in your patent fear while the smirk on his wicked yet charming countenance remains.
“And yet you dared to lie.” He tuts, unceasingly stalking towards you, to which you grasp the courage and dash for the door. “Oh, sweetheart, why bother trying when you know you can’t escape?”
You ignore his taunting words from behind as you grasp the handle and try to pull it open, but the familiar sound of ‘ding!’ brings a dreadful realisation to you at the high probability that in order to exit, you must enter the correct passcode on the keypad, the same way when you two entered earlier.
Your pulses drum loudly in your ear as soon as you feel his ominous presence from behind, prompting you to make a run to the side, but his hands manage to seize you.
“Heeseung! Please!” You frantically implore him, struggling against him as the danger in the heat of his touch on your skin intensifies the churns in your stomach.
“Shhhh, sweetheart, look at me.” Heeseung attempts to calm you down as his grip on you tightens due to your persistent attempts to push him away from you.
A whimper leaves your lips as you shake your head, turning away from him, but his patience is running thin. “I said, look at me.” He roughly grabs your chin and forces you to meet his hauntingly beautiful eyes while his tone resonates down your core as it has you in a tight grip.
“I’m sorry for entering your office without permission.” You finally deliver your heartfelt apology to him, hoping that he will show you some clemency. Tears begin to accumulate in your eyes as you pleadingly stare at him. “I’m sorry, Hee. I won’t do it again.”
“I know you are.” He says softly as he caresses your cheek, but even you can discern his hauntingly affectionate gesture. “Why are you crying, my love?”
You only whimper in response as a teardrop slides down your cheek, prompting him to gently wipe it away. “You’re terrified of me.” He states, his tone remains eerily soft while a sinister grin smears across his lips before he leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheek. “Mmhmm, as you should be, baby.” He rasps against your skin.
“H-Heeseung.” You weakly utter, attempting to push him away, but the trails of kisses on your cheek down to your neck enfeeble you as you find yourself succumbing to his dark allure that threatens to engulf you wholly.
“Now, tell me, what was your purpose for snooping around in my office?” He asks in between kisses before stopping at where his mark on your skin is. You shiver at the sensation of his sharp teeth grazing on your skin, a silent warning for you to choose your options wisely.
“I was just curious, I swear.” You try your utmost to tell him earnestly, despite knowing that it isn’t the entire truth. Heeseung seems to believe you as he presses a soft, lingering kiss on his mark before withdrawing from you. A hiccup emerges from your throat, and you stare at him remorsefully. “I’m really sorry, Hee.”
“I know, I know.” His hands descend to your thighs before grabbing them. “Jump.” He forces you anyway, which has you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist with his hand holding your waist while the other grips your thigh for more security before carrying you across the room where the centre table is.
It is as though he has bewitched you with some sort of spell, as you are unable to look away from his eyes. His dark allure continues to pull you into him as he sets you down on the table. His hand deftly supports your back from falling behind while your palms are pressed on the surface behind you.
“Heeseung.” You utter his name breathlessly, your mind fogging with lust and perturbation as his touch on your body feels igniting.
“Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have lied to me, and even worse when you tried to run away from me.” He says softly, kissing the back of his mouth while his eyes drink in at how beautiful you look being trapped by him.
Your breath hitches in your throat. “But I told you I was sorry.” You whimper, hating how your desire for him is strong despite your fear.
Heeseung ignores your words as he takes you by surprise when he roughly pulls you to him until your legs go rooted to the floor. A gasp leaves your lips at how deftly he is manhandling you as he turns you around, one hand on your waist tight and fingers curling around your neck in a threatening manner.
Your heart pounds harder against your chest as you feel his hot breath fanning your earlobe. “It doesn’t change the fact that you made me angry, my love.” His honeyed-dripping voice lulls at you, akin to a siren serenading its victim.
“Oh, yes. I’m still very angry at you.” He whispers darkly into your ear before he forces your pliant body to bend down until your stomach comes into contact with the surface of the table.
“Heeseung, please.” You have no idea why you are pleading with him. For him to show mercy? For him to fuck you?
His dark chuckles send shivers down your spine as he presses his palm firmly onto your back while the other affectionately rubs your butt cheek. “Plead all you want. By the time I’m done with you, you know better than to cross me again.” You feel his hand moving underneath your skirt before his fingers hook around the string of your underwear. “What’s the safe word?”
“Pink.” You utter, flustered at the fact that you actually do want this. At once, he pulls down your underwear as it falls to your ankles. Your heart races in anticipation as you hear shuffles behind you.
“Sweetheart's been bad. You shouldn't have gone around snooping.” He drawls his words out in a tantalising manner, and you feel your cunt clench at the degradation that laces his tone. His fingers tangle in your hair before bunching the strands in a makeshift ponytail and pulling your head to the back with your neck arched.
“Hee….” You whisper fearfully, yet your cunt remains anticipating his cock. You feel the weight of his body pressing down on yours and his warm breath hitting the shell of your earlobe.
“My pretty sweetheart,” He presses a deep, affectionate kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “You’re going to be good to me, yeah?”
“Yes!” You nod your head frantically, wincing as his grip on your hair hurts your scalp.
“You’re not going to make me angry anymore?” He asks, humming while your pussy throbs when the tip of his cock rubs up and down in between your folds tantalisingly slowly.
“Yes, I won’t make you angry anymore.” You babble, needing him inside of you right now, before enticing him with a soft, whimpering voice you know he won’t be able to resist, “Seungie, please─Ah!”
Blistering pain shoots into your hip bones as they hit the edge of the table with the ramification of his shallow thrust, your walls stretching painfully to adjust to his girth upon the abrupt breach. Without any ounce of clemency in the delivery of your punishment, he begins to rail into your tight cunt, your walls are practically vacuuming his cock with each shallow thrust that hurts so good.
“Ungh! Oh, fuck!” You cry out as your body jolts forward violently, tears accumulating in your lower lids as he relentlessly hits it from behind with an insatiable vigour, while the sound of his balls hitting your jiggling ass echoes throughout the room.
“Dirty, naughty angel. You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment.” Heeseung says in between ragged breaths, feeling the wetness along your fluttery walls lathering his cock. Without ceasing his thrust, he delivers a weighted slap on your ass, eliciting a painful yelp from you before he hears sobs spilling from your lips, fueling his lustful depravity into ruining you. “Cry all you want. I’m gonna fucking ruin you and your sweet, filthy cunt for as long as I want.”
“Heeseung! Please!” You implore in between broken moans that mingle with your cries, hating how dementedly rough he is fucking into you and how his demeaning words seem to turn you on as your cunt clenches around him despite the stinging hurt in your chest.
“What the fuck are you pleading for? Dirty sluts like you don’t get to plead.” Heeseung snarls coldly, yanking your hair harder as the action strains your arched neck. The lewd sound of your sopping cunt with each hard thrust he delivers draws a smirk on his lips, one that reflects his cruelty as he revels in the continuous moans and cries emitting from you that resemble a broken record. “Damn, baby. You’re really loving this, aren’t you?”
“No!” You shake your head frantically, but the motion only hurts your burning scalp due to the roots that nearly feel as though they are about to be ripped off. “Heeseung! Stop! It hurts!” You feel utterly helpless as the painful pull of your hair elevates your body, with your back hitting his chest.
“It hurts, yeah? Hurts so fucking good, hmm?” He nearly growls out in your ear as he releases his grip from your hair only for his hand to make its descent to your nub and rubs your bundle of nerves with the padding of his skillful fingers, amplifying your pleasure that hurls you to the new height of delirium.
“Heeseung! Too much! Oh─ungh!” Incoherency leaves the moment he shoves two fingers into your mouth, allowing your tongue to feel the coldness of the rings that adorned his fingers as he slowly slides them further in, nearly choking you while tears cascade down your cheeks as you sob with a drool of saliva sliding from the corner of your mouth.
“Oh, fuck─” Heeseung throws his head to the back upon the arrival of his impending orgasm, the pad of his fingers pressing down on your tongue while his vigorous rub on your clit hurls you to the edge of your orgasm, urging you to cum with him. “Yeah, baby, cum with me.” He says so huskily, while the desperate yet teetering clench of your cunt around his ruthless cock is a telltale sign of your imminent climax.
You continue to sob with his fingers that occasionally choke you with how deep it is as he continues to whisper obscenity into your ear, intensifying your heightened senses while the knot in your tummy becomes unbearable. “Fucking take it. Take all of it, my perfect little cum dump.”
At once, Heeseung goes completely still with his hips snapping against your behind as he lets out a guttural moan, filling you to the brim as he cums into you while your aching jaw unhinges with your eyes turning white as your orgasm crashes down on you violently, causing your body to convulse in his grasp.
Usually, Heeseung would shower you with compliments of how much of a good girl you are for him, accompanied by his kisses all over your face after the fucking, but this time, his action of slipping his cock from your cunt and his fingers removing from your mouth as he steps away from you feels coldly detached.
Nevertheless, you allow yourself to fall flat onto the surface as you regulate your ragged breathing while you feel the mixture of your cum with his slowly leaking out from your gaping yet pulsating cunt. Tears continue to stain your dampened cheeks as you snivel, hating that you have upset Heeseung and broken his trust.
“I’m really sorry, Hee.” You apologise again in between hiccups, unbothered by the aches and pain in your hip bones that probably formed bruises. Upon receiving silence, you feel defeated, whimpering as more waterwork erupts despite the exertion dawning on your body.
“I didn’t mean to.” You continue, your tone is filled with regret. “I was a fool for thinking that you were him. I thought I was being a good girl by following your instructions because I thought you were him. I thought you were testing me─”
You are cut off at the moment he grabs you by the arm, prompting you to raise your body from lying flat on the table. It appears that he really did a number on you as you find your knees buckling underneath you, but he steadily holds you against him.
“Who?” Heeseung asks sternly, his cold voice deepens the hurt in your chest, as does the look in his eyes. “What secrets are you hiding from me?”
You open your mouth to speak, ready to let him know the truth, but you are cut off by the loud chime of your phone in your pocket. With trembling fingers, you reach for your phone and grab it before unlocking your phone screen, only to be greeted with a notification from the one you totally expected.
UNKNOWN NUMBER: Great show, sweetheart.
“Him.” You utter in a whisper as you hesitantly show Heeseung the text he sent, uncertain of his reaction as you have your gaze lowered. Great show? What did he even mean by that?
Instead of a response, Heeseung takes you by surprise when he deftly carries you in a bridal style. You cling to him with one arm around his neck while the other cradles your phone to your chest. You look at him, noticing how eerily calm and collected his demeanour is. Reaching the door, he expertly punches the code onto the smart padlock with his finger while his arm underneath the back of your knees continues to support you.
“Are you still mad at me?” You dare to ask amidst the palpable apprehension at his haunting silence. You blink away your tears as you slowly lean your head onto his shoulder. Your mere gesture stirs something in his cold, tainted heart. “I’m sorry, Hee.”
A muscle pulses in his jaw, the entirety of his raging anger that brews storms in the wreckage of his mind is not directed at you this time. “I know.”
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
The thought of Heeseung appearing in your mind impels you to splash the running water on your face for the third time, as evident in the splotches on your nightgown. You haven’t seen him since morning, and he wasn’t found anywhere in the palace, which only makes you feel more awful than last night. You recall not a single word spoken between the two of you as he brought you to your room, and he didn’t even inquire with you regarding the anonymous guy.
Just thinking about the anonymous guy genuinely peeved you, and yet, you hate yourself for concluding that you believed he was Heeseung. Clearly, you were gravely mistaken when that text came forth last night after the end of the whole Heeseung fucking his anger into you that knocked you out the instant you hit off to bed.
You heave a sigh as you rub your weary face. You know what? Fuck whoever he is. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you give yourself a firm head nod. The resolution in your eyes affirms that you will block and delete his contact number. You proceed to exit the bathroom, keen to return to your bed since the remnants of last night’s exertion are palpable.
Just as you step outside of the bathroom, your heart nearly lurches in your chest at the sight of Heeseung seated at the edge of your bed. His outfit denotes that he must’ve been riding his motorbike. His hair looks slightly tousled, tempting you to run your fingers through his locks and adjust them, but you remain rooted to your spot, uncertain how to act next.
When his eyes meet yours, you are taken aback by the stark contrast to how he looked at you last night. He is looking at you with an unmistakable longing, but as his eyes rake all over your body, adorned in an enticing laced nightgown that displays a teasing peek of your cleavage, the hinge of his jaw is locked while his insatiable desire for you swirls in his eyes.
“Why are you here?” The softness of your voice breaks through his impure reverie of you, prompting him to search for your eyes and notice the visible hurt in them.
Heeseung doesn’t respond to your question as he extends his hand to you, beckoning you to him. “Come here, sweetheart.” The familiar affection in his tone compels you to gravitate towards him, and upon reaching within his reach, he grabs your hand and gently pulls you towards him as you find yourself standing in between his parted legs.
Your heart flutters at the adoration gleaming in his eyes as he looks up at you. You can’t help but cradle his cheek as his eyes bore into yours, feeling as though he is staring directly into your soul. In this light, he looks pretty harmless — nothing compared to how he looks whenever he’s in the mood. “You left me alone almost the whole day.” You say, your tone conveys your dejection.
“I’m sorry.” It is the first time he has ever apologised to you with such sincerity. Your heart soars as he leans into your touch with his hand above yours. “I won’t leave you alone again. Let me make it up to you.”
“It’s okay. I’m the one in the wrong for breaking your trust─” You stop mid-sentence when your sharp eyes catch his bruised knuckles with a few yet tiny cuts that seep blood. Your eyebrows softly knit together with concern as you grab his hand. “Hee, what happened?”
Your genuine concern for him pulls at his heartstrings as he watches you fuss over his mere bruise that feels entirely numb. “I had to intervene and help Jay because a group of them were provoking him in the bar downtown, and a fight broke out. You know how he is.” The corners of his lips curve upon seeing your pouty lips. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We won anyway, and two of them more or less ended up in comas.”
It is as though you are accustomed to the nature of their penchant for violence, as you don’t feel disturbed by his last statement. Silence prevails as you contemplate, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip before you cave in. “Hee, I’m sure you have many questions regarding last night.”
“I do, but─”
“He called me sweetheart and pretty the way you do; that’s one of the reasons why I believed that you were him.” You cut him off in a ramble, wanting him to know the truth urgently. “He played his words in riddles, just as you do. It’s like he’s a carbon copy of you─”
You let out a small squeal when he pulls you down to him, causing you to fall seated on his lap with his arms caging your waist. “Sweetheart, the issue can wait.” His lips coming into contact with your bare chest just above your cleavage arouses the familiar heat in your core. “Besides, didn’t I say I wanted to make up to you for leaving you alone today?”
“But─” A gasp leaves your lips as he deftly has you pinned against the mattress within a matter of seconds. With your hair sprawled out gracefully in tendrils and your doe eyes staring at him with a concoction of confusion and lust, he knows he needs to show his adoration by pleasuring you.
“We can deal with that tomorrow or even the day after, but for now, let me just focus on you, sweetheart.” Heeseung whispers as he leans down, one hand beside your head to support his weight while the other seizes your chin before he presses a kiss so tender yet one full of passion, creating a sensory experience so overpowering that dispels any lingering doubts, questions, and distress as you reciprocate the kiss with equal fervour.
Your hands go winding through his disheveling hair with a movement of urgency as the kiss moltens with intensity, involving teeth and tongues clashing against each other. Feeling his teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip, you moan faintly, getting utterly aroused, which has you locking your legs around his.
The make-out ends quicker than you like as he pulls away from your chasing lips, eliciting a whine from you when he moves away from you. “Seungie, please.”
“I know, pretty.” A smirk touches his lips as he stands by the bed, removing his jacket. Just like that, you are quick to remove your own pieces of clothing. You manage to admire his fine glory, shocking you again when you notice how buff his muscles are compared to the last time you saw him at Yeonjun’s pool party. In just a matter of seconds, he hovers on top of you with his lips urgently attached to yours.
“Oh, Hee..” You sigh pleasurably against his lips, feeling the pad of his thumb circling your clit skillfully as he decides to get you even more worked up. “Please fuck me.”
“Patience, baby.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, his lips ghosting over yours before trailing his kisses down your jugular. Your hips buck up at the sensation of his working thumb on your clit while his lips on your sensitive spot on your neck amplify the pleasure building up in you.
“Seungie.” You whine, getting unbearably impatient as he trails down further until he slots his lips over your perky nipple, sending you a jarring sensation at his tongue licking and teething your sensitive nipple. “Heeseung, just fuck me already.”
Heeseung releases your nipple with a wet ‘pop’, scoffing lowly before casting you a smirk. “You’re lucky I’m feeling nice tonight, pretty.” He looks down to grab his shaft to line up at your awaiting cunt before slowly pushing inside, your folds warmly welcoming him.
Maybe it has something to do with him being gentle, but the sensation of his cock thrusting into you slowly yet with such skillful precision that allows you to feel the drag of his cock against the wall so distinctly is phenomenal.
“Oh, Hee,” You moan out as you arch your back with your tits pushed out, which his eyes feast upon while he continues to fuck into you. Each thrust feels better than the previous, and there it is, hitting the spot that has you moving your hips in tandem with his. “Just like that, Seungie. You feel so good.”
“Yeah? I’m fucking you good, sweetheart?” His husky voice sends flutters to both your heart and cunt as it clenches around him, eliciting a low hiss from him while you moan loudly in response. Heeseung eyes down at the visible bulge appearing in your abdomen with his unrelenting thrusts. “Look at that.” He smirks, feeling his pride swell. “Sweetheart can’t handle my cock. Oh, I’m bound to ruin you, my love.”
“I can!” You insist vehemently before getting distracted by the padding of his fingers rubbing your clit, igniting your bundles of nerves. “Oh fuck! Hee! More!” You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck, his warm breaths fanning above your lips as he leans down on you with his arm bracing next to your head.
“More?” He asks mockingly, his lips adorning a smirk, before he kisses you deeply, silencing your noise momentarily.
You hum against his lips before you pull away with your head thrown to the back as you moan, feeling the pleasure building to a new height of ecstasy. “Fuck me harder, Hee.”
“Harder? Like this?” Heeseung grunts above you as he delivers a thrust so shallow that it has your walls hugging him tight and pulsating around him. “Shit, sweetheart. You feel so fucking tight.” He thrusts into you harder just as you wished, satisfied to hear your sweet yet lewd sound of pleasure that is like a melody to his ears.
His eyes fall on your parted lips, not being able to resist the urge to kiss you again, swallowing your moans. “Gonna fuck you all night, pretty.” He says so huskily into your panting mouth with your lips parted open, to which he spits into your mouth as you gladly swallow with a moan. “Oh, you are so perfect.” He coos, kissing your cheek deeply before trailing down his kisses to your neck while your heart flutters at his word. “Every inch of you was made for me. You were always bound to be mine.”
Despite how hard and shallow he is fucking into you, each thrust he delivers is a testament to the depths of the feelings he has always harboured for you. His hips snap against yours, pressing you deeper into the sinking mattress beneath your body while you moan wantonly as he doesn’t miss the spot that eventually hurls you to the brink of your orgasm. “Hee, I-I’m─”
“Cumming, yeah?” His husky voice sends vibrations to your neck as he rasps against your skin. “Come on, pretty. Give it to me.” He whispers, his hand descending to rub your clit, amplifying your pleasure as the knot in your tummy threatens to unsnap at any time. “Wanna see you wet the bed, baby. Squirt for me.”
You can feel it in your pelvis as soon as he commands, as though he wields the power to control your body. With a moan so pornographic emitting from you, white-hot ecstasy surges through you as you throw your head to the back with your body arched, clear fluid releasing from you as your body convulses uncontrollably under him.
“Damn, baby. Look at you go.” Heeseung chuckles breathily, smirking as he looks down at your squirting mess staining the bed sheet as well as his pelvis, and yet he doesn’t relent from fucking into you even as your slick arousal has coated his cock.
“Nngh! Seungie!” You try to push him away languidly, feeling overstimulated, but he grabs both your wrists and bounds in with one hand, placing them above your head. “Too much!” You whimper, your hips trying to escape him, but he growls out a warning in response before snapping his hips against yours, going completely still as he cums into you.
“Oh, fuck. Milk my cock just like that, pretty.” He moans as he feels your walls eagerly envelope his cum-spraying cock, dropping his head to your shoulder before peppering your collarbone with kisses. His teeth sink into your skin, eliciting a whimper from you that goes straight into his cock as it twitches inside your cum-filled cunt.
“Hee, please.” Tears prickle in your eyes as he slowly thrusts in and out of you. The squelching sound from your runny cunt is disgustingly lewd, but at the same time, it arouses you as your hips betray you as they move sensually in tandem with his.
“I’m gonna be loving you all night, beautiful.” His tone is filled with such affection and sincerity that it causes your heart to swell. He presses a deep, fluttering kiss on your cheek while his thrust doesn’t let up. “Worship your body all night as I should, because you’re just so fucking perfect. So perfect, and rightfully mine.”
“I’m yours, Hee.” You manage to utter before he captures your lips, sealing the entirety of your fate as he tethers you to his.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
“Thank you.” You thank the cashier with a smile, forgetting that she can’t see you due to the dark tinted visor of your helmet, before you grab the plastic bag from the counter and proceed to exit the convenience store in haste, worrying that you had him waiting for longer than you intended.
You spot him, remaining stationary as he is seated on his bike with his long legs on each side planted to the ground in an attempt to provide firmer stabilisation of his motorbike. Butterflies flutter in your tummy as he turns his head towards you, though you can’t see his face clearly with his visor obscuring him. The leather jacket looks taut on him with his arms folded across his chest, and his wholly black leather fit matches yours, making you feel giddy again at the fact that you look like a biker couple, with the exception that you’re his backpack girl.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” You stand next to him, showing the plastic bag to him. The intercom built into your helmets allows you to hear each other clearly. “They didn’t have the snacks I was looking for.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Heeseung reassures you before he grabs the plastic bag from you. “Turn around.” You do as he told you, hearing him unzip the black backpack that straps around your shoulder before feeling him stuff the plastic bag into it.
“Are we going back now?” You ask as soon as you mount his bike from behind him. Your arms cling around his body when he switches on the ignition, enjoying the warmth oozing from him.
“Unless you have a place in mind to go to.” Heeseung tells you before he proceeds to ride off, eventually picking up velocity that has you hugging him tighter as you ride against the strong, vindictive wind.
As it’s been more than an hour since he has brought you out for a nightly ride, you decide that it’s time for you to head back. Plus, the exertion that dawned on your body due to how he worshipped you and kept you up all night has yet to dwindle. It is a miracle how you can walk without having to struggle, unlike when you woke up earlier.
“No.” You rest your under-chin on his shoulder while your mere gesture fills his chest with delight. “Let’s go back.”
It takes approximately thirty minutes for you to finally reach their territory, with the opulent gate welcoming you as he proceeds to ride his way to the garage.
All the while, you are lost in your thoughts that aren’t harbouring such distressing matters ever since you have decided to block and delete the unknown number, but not before giving Heeseung your phone to read the entire conversation from scratch.
You recall how deceptively calm Heeseung looked when he noted down the contact number, most probably to track the anonymous down since he did tell you that he’d be entrusting the task to Jake, who has expertise in tracking and hacking anything or anyone.
Now, you feel as though the weight on your shoulders has been lifted off, bringing you a sense of tranquillity. You no longer needed to feel the annoying anxiety plummeting into your chest every time you received a notification from the anonymous guy. You feel better now that you know Heeseung was never him. In all honesty, you can’t wait for Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon to come back tomorrow, wanting to spend more time with all of them.
“Sweetheart?” Heeseung pulls you out of your reverie as he approaches you from behind, noticing that you have been staring at the massive grandeur of the water fountain from afar, which is situated in the centre of the encompassing entirety of the palace. “What’s wrong?”
Well, now that you have gained awareness that you have actually been zoning out, an idea pops into your mind, prompting you to look at him with a sheepish grin. “Can we play at that fountain?”
Of course, Heeseung will always give you what you want or need, and so with a soft smirk unfurling his lips, you grab his hand before proceeding to drag him with you, the enthusiasm oozing from you as you lightly skip in your steps while Heeseung only watches you with adoring eyes that soften his features, even as you splash the water at him, drenching his clothes.
“Sweetheart.” He growls out in a playful manner, and the mischief in his predatory gaze sends an adrenaline rush through you. “You’re so gonna get it.”
You squeal just as he charges towards you, prompting you to run away from him despite the fact that the pool of water below you impedes your speed. Your heart nearly lurches in your chest as soon as he captures you from behind, his arms caging your waist as he lifts you up and spins you around with delightful giggles emitting from you.
Setting you down to your feet as the water splashes beneath you, soaking your pants, you turn around with the intention to push him playfully, but he latches his hand onto your waist to pull you closer while the other cradles the back of your head before he smashes his lips against yours, causing you to gasp softly into the kiss.
A symphony of yearning and desire is palpable as he deepens the kiss that deepens the electrifying connection between you and him, while the world fades into insignificance as you get utterly lost in the depths of your passionate kissing.
Just you and him, lips attached, souls intertwined under the moonlight with glinting stars across the divine celestial witnessing this tender intimacy.
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
The once-liveliness that brought home-filling warmth to the expanse of your shared dormitory with the girls who used to be your best friends has shifted dramatically and is now foreignly cold, with a discernible hostility emanating from the four of you. Distracting yourself from the agonising silence, your eyes flicker down at your forefinger that is now bare of your purity ring, which has long since been in Heeseung’s possession.
Honestly, you should’ve ignored Yunjin’s call that shatters the tranquilly of you being cocooned in Heeseung’s warm embrace with arms around your body as he had you settled on top of him earlier, but something nudged you into accepting her call only to receive a request from her for you to head over to your dorm. Of course, you were about to refuse, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone. Thus, you are now in a position where you are uncertain whether the three of them across from you really do hate you, because if they did, they wouldn’t have looked as worried for you as they do now.
“Whatever it is that you need to tell me, can you hurry up?” You don’t mean to sound impatiently abrasive, but your resentment for their hypocrisy remains a bitter taste on your tongue. “What is so important that you could’ve told me over text?”
“Because what we’re about to tell you is something that we should’ve revealed to you sooner.” Wonyoung’s tone is devoid of the usual warmth; her eyes are unwaveringly searching for yours. “We don’t want to argue with you again, Y/N. So please keep an open mind.”
You unclench your locked jaw, heaving a sigh as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to argue with you girls either. I’m tired. But if this is about you telling me to sever ties with them, then I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave, not until you finally know about it.” Karina states vehemently, prompting you to look at her. The grim expression on her face mirrors the others’.
You frown. “Know about what?”
“About the girl who got herself caught up in a situation just as you are now three years ago.” Yunjin says quietly as she leans her back against the wall with her hands tucked in her pockets. “They preyed on her the way they did you.”
You can feel something painful pulling your heartstrings, but you remain silent as Yunjin continues, “But their preying on her lasted for a short period of time. Just like you, she was ensnared by their dark allure, and by the time she tried to escape, it was too late.”
“I’m sure you saw her, or at least have heard about her before.” Karina quips. “She used to be in Julie’s clique.” You remember Julie. She was one of the university's former queen bees, along with the others, before they transferred to another university for some reason.
“And the girl that we’re talking about? She was my best friend since high school until we drifted.” Wonyoung adorns a bitter smile while her eyes glisten with nostalgia as she looks at you. “Her name was Jinae.”
The name rings a bell to you, but you are not entirely certain. In all honesty, your freshman year was only filled with pure academics; you were always eager to head back to your dorm after classes ended just to hole up in your room and be surrounded by books. Rarely, or perhaps not once, were you tempted to get involved in gossip or anything that wasn't beneficial to you.
You release a sigh as you unfold your arms. “So what? If this is you trying to make me jealous because they shared a girl in the past, just stop. You can’t do anything to change my feelings for them.”
“This isn’t about a matter of jealousy.” Wonyoung shoots you a scowl. “This is about the grave danger you might be in, all because you blindly fell for their trap and even caught feelings for them.”
You try your utmost to quell your anger while maintaining a composed posture. “Pray tell, what danger awaits me? I’m still alive, aren’t I?” The mockery in your tone seems to tick them off as you continue. “And why the hell should I know about this Jinae girl?”
“Because we don’t want you to end up like her.” Karina says so somberly.
“End up like her? What do you mean?” You ask adamantly, wanting them to get straight to the point. “Did she transfer to another university or drop out?”
“Worse.” Wonyoung looks down at her hands on her lap. “She’s dead.”
“It’s the exact reason why we’ve been trying so hard to tell you to stay away from them before you get caught deep in their trap.” Yunjin adds.
“What?” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before the anger comes as you clench your fist. “So what are you implying?”
“Can’t you see, Y/N? She’s dead because of them!” Wonyoung exclaims, startling you with her outburst. Her eyes are glistening with tears, as though the pain of the loss of her ex-best friend is still fresh. “They killed her!”
“You’re kidding.” You release a sardonic chuckle, shaking your head while your heart begins to pound harder against your chest. “What the fuck, Wonyoung? You’re trying to scare me again by making up a story?”
“She’s not lying, Y/N.” Karina retorts sternly, eliciting a scoff from you. “Jinae’s dead because of them.”
“Oh, spare me your hypocrisy.” You snarl coldly at her as you find yourself rising from the seat. “You were the one who encouraged me to get closer to Sunghoon to make Jaeyun jealous in the first place! And now you’re trying to act like you’re principled enough to condemn me just as the rest, including my parents, did simply because I’m in love with them?”
“You’re in love with them?” Yunjin echoes your words, which finally register in your brain, causing you to falter momentarily, but you decide to brush the matter aside, not wanting to dwell on it any longer and analyse your feelings deeply.
You shake your head, feeling your hand tremble. “I’m not listening to what you have to say next. They may be capable of killing, but they wouldn’t kill someone, let alone a girl, without a reason.”
“So what you’re trying to say is that for as long as there is a reason, it is justifiable for them to kill anyone?” Karina gives you a disbelieving glare. “You’re so brain-fucked over your feelings for them, Y/N.”
“At least I’m happier now.” You snap back. “I’m leaving, and continue to ignore my existence the way you did before, because you were doing a great job at it!”
“Y/N! Please!” Wonyoung takes you by surprise with her urgency and desperation as she catches up to you just as you reach the door. Her hand latches onto your arm. When you turn around with the intention of lashing out at her, you flinch at the tears filling her eyes. “You’re right. I can’t do anything to change your feelings for them, but I don’t want to lose you either.”
A part of you softens up, nudging you to hug her, but the recollection of her words and her cold detachment surfacing in your mind impels you to yank your arm from her. Refraining from uttering another word at her or any of them, you swing the door open and storm off.
Reaching the elevator, you press the button harder than you intended to, and the tension manifests itself in the rising and falling of your chest as you breathe harshly. You refuse to believe their words, and you feel irate at the fact that they truly believed the four leaders, who are evidently head over heels for you, would do anything to jeopardise your life.
As you enter the elevator and press the first level, a disconcerting reality dawns on you, knowing how lethal they are beneath their distinct charms and profound dark allures that serenaded you in the first place. Your head begins to throb as your mind is battling a tempestuous of internal conflict and questions, each vying for their voice to be clamoured in the confines of your mind.
Sighing, you step out of the elevator, noticing not a single student in sight, which is odd, but nevertheless, you navigate your way to the exit. Just as you turn to the right corner, the entirety of the first floor blackens as the lights go out.
A frown pulls at your lips. Strange since the last time this happened was two years ago, resulting in you and your best friends huddling in one room and sleeping on the same bed since they, too, were afraid of the dark.
Your phone rings in your pocket, prompting you to fish it out and see Yunjin’s caller ID. You reluctantly answer her call. “Y/N? Are you still in the building?”
“Yeah, I know. The lights went out, but I’m already making my way to the exit.” You tell her curtly while you feel something feels off, as there is an eerie chill emanating in the dark atmosphere, spurring you to pick up the pace as your pulse drums in your ear. “Hey, Yunjin? I know we're not fine, but can you stay on the line with me for a bit?”
“What’s wrong?” Yunjin sounds worried by the alarming tone evident in your voice.
“Everything’s fine.” You assure her, and in the midst of it, you fail to realise the looming threat approaching you as you are in deep contemplation, your lips tucked between your teeth. “Yunjin, I─”
It happens too fast. One moment you’re walking in haste, and the next something so solid hits you from the back, resulting in you losing your balance before you find yourself falling to the ground as your skulls throb painfully.
A wince leaves your lips as you clutch your head before goosebumps eerily arise on your skin. That is when you feel an ominous presence looming over your figure from behind, propelling you to scramble away from whoever they are. Their identity is wholly obscure with the all-black fit that seems to camouflage with the darkness, but the sound of their heavy-booted footsteps is unmistakable.
“Y/N?” You forget that Yunjin is still on the line, and frantically, you press the phone against your ear with your trembling hand as you try your utmost to fight against the pain.
“Yunjin!” Just as you call out for her, you receive another hit from the side of your head, causing your body to fall flat to the ground from the impact, rendering you paralysed with the heavy weight of your eyelids fighting valiantly to stay open.
The last thing you remember is your phone being snatched away from your hand and a piercing stab of a long needle into the side of your neck before darkness shrouds you wholly.
TAGLIST: @aishigrey @kgneptun @b3tt7boop @smg-valeria @lhspeachie @enhaverse713586 @strxwbloody @firstclassjaylee @jwnghyuns @luminouskalopsia @deobitifull @loumin908 @sousydive @pinkkami @skzenhalove @caravm @shinrjj @loljaeyunz @star4rin @darkjongsung @mlywon @yorukoshii @nshmrarki @lol6sposts @lilyuwon @enha-crumbs @slut4hee @capri-cuntz @kaykay11sworld @firesunflames @notevenheretbh1 @parksunghoonsgf @luvkpopp @superbbananananana @eastleighsblog @in-somnias-world @nyxtwixx @theresawtf @fuxktaekook @readbyjjk @yunhoswrldddd @fuxktaekook @bobaikeu @minjaexvz @heelariously
#the devil’s knights’ prey#enhypen#enhypen smut#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#enhypen hyung line x fem reader
335 notes
·
View notes
Text
To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, tbz
PAIRING ⏵ ( 2nd pov, you ) fem!reader x lee hyunjae, lee juyeon, ji changmin, kim sunwoo, eric sohn
at the last two weeks before the semester; your younger brother leaked your old love letters. when you return to university, you work as a part time assistant for the hockey team. the charming crush of your youth has read your letter and makes a deal to not spread it if in return, you'll to be his fake girlfriend for the upcoming house party. that night sets off an event with all five letters.
GENRE ⏵ FLUFF, college!au / university!au, setting around 2013 ( 2010s!au ), 2000s!au ( childhood ), to all the boys i’ve loved before!au, summer!au, some angst since we do only have one end game, childhood friends2lovers, hockey player!hyunjae, playboy (with a soft side)!hyunjae, short fake dating!au side plot, boy next door!eric, frat!eric, rich kid!eric, flirty but shy!sunwoo, old summer love!sunwoo, reader is an medical assistant, lots of pining, mutual pining, cats!!!, nerdy oblivious juyeon, literature major!juyeon, history major!changmin, changmins bad at sports (sorry bub), 3 different types of parties!, a pool party, a house party, a beach party (i don’t even like parties irl!)
WARNINGS ⏵ reader is good at sports ( volleyball ), hyunjae is a little mean/ manipulative at the start, reader gets drunk twice, sunwoo once ( oufff ), swearing a few times ( fuck, shit ), some jealousy, bad dancing (specially from reader), reader's zodiac sign is a capricorn (for a joke), kissing, pet names ( angel, princess ), proofread once ( i feel like ive forgotten something but hope not😭 )
WORD COUNT ⏵ 19 k
playlist i listened to while writing
this is my fic for @deoboyznet the love letter collective event ! if you specifically want to know which members will have more romantic storylines and who reader will end up with; i have written it out at the end of the post! ( if it being your bias is important for reading ex ). though all five will have cute/ flirty moments with reader! i changed to 2nd person pov for no reason😭 i hope you don’t mind here’s a 500 word teaser before commitment ( it’s in 3rd pov for now! )
like and reblog are highly encouraged !
01 . CHAPTER ONE
IMAGINE THIS; ONCE UPON A TIME, FATHER OF YOURS SAID THAT TO SCOUR THE EVIL THOUGHTS OCCUPYING YOUR YOUNG MIND, ONE ONLY HAS TO WRITE LETTERS. What a magical solution to all the finite problems of youth! That’s what you thought even as you started to come of age and the inevitable falls of love. Each time, when your innocence was consumed, little by little, by the harsh realities of romance; you spit it out on a piece of paper, enveloped it, stored it in a box (extra security measures) and sheltered underneath your bed.
And now, you’re in university. Back home for the last two weeks before the autumn semester. Laying against the bed–it reeks of school mornings of 2005–and still holds those letters beneath. The pink hues on the pillows are still there, maybe a little washed out. All butterflies stickers from magazines are plastered on furniture that shines, just slightly, when the sun goes down underneath the neighboring roofs, lucent through the open windows.
You’ve hung out with Eric, a childhood friend. Bicycled down the gravel paths fenced in lines through houses. Side by side, always trying to one up the other like you always did. Take a swim in the same lake, in the same spot those old pictures show. Like those days; the sun never falters until it all stands on the edge between diagonal roofs.
And amidst your childhood lies your younger cousin. Bare arms touch each other as you lie side by side with feet over the pillows, and noses –the paper box of letters. She told you about a longing crush she has for a boy in the parallel class. When overconsumed by nostalgia; you couldn’t refrain from dusting off the old box. And that’s how you ended up back with the letters you swore to withhold.
There are five of them.
The first one is Lee Jaehyun, a three year older popular student who you had a trivial crush on in middle school ( together with everyone else). In all honesty you didn’t know much about him; just that he was cute looking. There’s a sort of emotional torment in recalling the one sided adoration while leaned out the school window to see him play football. Even his name haunts you still in uni as your roommate had a crush on the shining hockey player the entire two semesters.
In short, everyone liked Lee Jaehyun.
Next is Eric Sohn, your childhood friend, the boy next door, even first love? He has many titles you realize. He lived in an impressive house north from here, one that hosts many parties every time his parents take the trip to their summer resort. At some point, it felt like he knew every kid in town. Luckily, you have never been the jealous type. Despite being each other’s ride or die since ten, you never confessed the secret ways you looked at him back in the sandbox.
Third is Sunwoo–just Sunwoo; you never got his last name–from summer camp who you even ( jokingly ) got married to. Your first summer at thirteen, away from parents, with kids the same age. When recalling it all back, that summer feels as if taken out of a movie, and you fell head first, three meters deep with the boy. Sunwoo always stood in the center ( bad and good…mostly bad tbh ). You got paired up for the kayak; it pissed rained and your coordination couldn’t take you ten meters. But you remember every word he said as butterfly inducing nonetheless. After that, at night you snuck out of your cabins to watch the stars. And when that summer too ended, you swore your heart shattered into million pieces.
The fourth is Lee Juyeon, a boy you had never seen before until his cat got pregnant by yours. Scuba Steve ( long story ) had been gone for some days until another family came up to their door with him. For half a year, it felt like you saw Lee Juyeon everyday. He was just as enchanted by kittens as you ( if not more ) and you two would visit each other just to cuddle with them. The teenage heart used to rush with the mere presence of him and together you named all the kittens–until they were sold off. Then they eventually stopped seeing each other. Though he still lurks around as a poet’s ghost around campus ( source Eric ).
The last one, Ji Changmin, the son of your mother’s friend. He teached you calculus for a while in high school. To be fully transparent, you didn’t learn much from him that year because all you did was leaning on the kitchen table while adoring him until the rims of his glasses slipped. He always scolded you endearingly when you didn’t listen ( which was the majority of the time ). Ji Changmin always wore cute polos with neat pants–now when thinking about it, mother might have approved if you got together. But it’s too late. He went to uni; and simply left you with a newfound thing for glasses ( still wearing cute polos in uni ).
And that’s all. You sometimes wonder if it was a mere symptom of youth that resulted in those letters. Since uni–outside a campus crush or two-–that compelling yearning for someone has never come back.
Eventually the bird’s cease to sing once the sun swallows entirely by the horizon, and cicadas can be heard through the open windows. You leave the letters as the two of you close the door. Mother asked if you and your cousin wanted to go with the rest of the adults down to the green field at the center of the neighborhood, you said yes.
When the heavy door shuts against the frame, voices from your younger brother’s room at the highest floor seeps through the windows.
( next morning )
“Mom, you haven’t seen some letters?” You stand at the stairs to look down the kitchen counter where mother and your brother turn from the pantry light.
“Three’s blue and two pink envelopes?” You ask again.
Mom shakes her head, “No, I haven’t?”
You sigh, sprint up the second floor.
“Y/n?”
Call of your name echoes through the frame into your room. To look over the bed and see your younger brother centered at the white rectangle. His fringe like curtains reluctant to open as he looks elsewhere. You come up completely.
“What?”
“The letters…”
Your ears perk up, “You’ve seen them?”
“No, I took them…” He says guilty and starts tearing off paint from the wall.
“The guys wanted to prank you yesterday, we sent them, I’m really sorry.”
He looks up again, “But I told them to not do anything more.” He reassures, but his voice trails off as you neither alienate or sigh at this confession. Eyes, lifeless as the posture in your arms hanging off your stale corpse.
“You did what?” You ask; wishing you heard incorrectly the first time and he crashed a vase instead.
“We sent your letters..” He says hesitantly with eyebrows knit.
You close your eyes. Take your hands up your face to cup it and breathe in. Autumn semester starts in exactly 13 days and you know at least half of the letter receivers attend. And definitely all five live in the city.
To breathe out, hands fall in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow at what one could guess is a meditation session before you open your eyes.
“I’LL KILL YOU!”
02 . CHAPTER TWO
( tuesday afternoon )
The letters were out; an existential dread running on two bags of pure sugar surged within you. A sensation you were oblivious to existed. First week went, and you hoped the mail man had fallen over and left the letters on the highway, doomed to get run over til their unreadable. But those wishes perished the very moment Eric Sohn came chanting underneath the window. The characteristic bird chimes and mowers intertwined in green leaf rustle; his voice echoed through open glass. You told mom not to tell him you were here; that you had already taken the train to the city.
Destiny was in your favor for once, and your mother did lie when Eric came to the front door.
So far, none crossed fate with the receivers of your letters has ensued. Eric was the only established friend in your life, hence you held yourself far, far away from any business major hot spots. Though, just after achieving three days. The first afternoon at the start of your part time; rulers leave you forced to stare eye to eye with receiver number one.
“This is Y/n, she will work as your athletic trainer assistant for this semester.” The trainer lifts hands to his side to make it even clearer than it already was. It is damn cold beside the ice rink–which you thank god for since your face would be blistered red otherwise. As he presents for all tall men in thick layers of hockey protection, they stare; you’re left to make a timid jazz hand motion with a strained smile.
“I’m Y/n.” Hands fall back to your side and concentrate all might to look at the other eight people–not the one to the right.
“She will be helping me with equipment and aid; so you’ll see her around a bit.”
The players wave past you in turn; to introduce themselves in a mere identical manner. The last name pains deeply as you pretend to find shoelaces loose.
“Jaehyun.”
You can’t see his expression, not even when eyes come up. Only his back covered in blue jersey greets you as he steps off the plastic flooring and onto the ice.
Though, it is an immediate opportunity for breathing room when all players go to practice. The plastic walls become solid and you look over the formations on ice. Maybe you got yourself free from this one? Maybe Hyunjae also thought it was so damn awkward that it’s easier to ignore it. You hope deeply while taking off one glove, as sultry temperatures rise beside the rink.
Followed by the 30 minutes of relocating equipment around the center, the next time you come back into the ice hall, the trainer greets you with sweat outlining his sideburns. You knit your eyebrows before taking eyes off him and onto the player in navy; halting out the rink. Turns out Coach yelled two different instructions, followed after one another; which resulted in a collision of two players.
He tells you to take him, who limps to the clothing rooms. By immediate compliance you approach his silhouette; leaning on the plastic divide. You can’t make out the exact expression as he faces the ground, but when you ask him if he needs help walking. That horribly handsome face from your childhood looks up. Breathing heavily, but smiles through the fringe.
“Yeah.”
You purse your lips into a thin line. To force sight away from him. You look at the entrance to the ice hall while taking his arm over your shoulders. Come to the clothing room after taking off his ice skates. The two intentions of your own conscience fought while walking. Nothing would be more awkward than looking at him again, on the other hand, the concern over his weak state is true as the continuous breath sounds loudly beside your ear.
Hyunjae’s now on the bench before one side of the lockers. He watches attentively as you round the sport’s bags to take the first aid kit on the other side. The ventilation is the loudest thing in the room. At some point it becomes bothersome as you hold his clothing. You haven't made eye contact since the rink, but senses his gaze fixed over your scalp.
He talks suddenly.
“You know Y/n, I got your letter.” He says while looking down at your hand; securing the bandage around his ankle.
Fuck.
Fingers stale from suspension for a moment on the bandage edges. The material loses around his ankle and you force it towards you.
A sigh, still looking down, “Listen; it was my br–”
“It’s appreciated Angel, but it will never happen.” His lips curve higher at one opposite edge, leaving his eyes on you with pleasure like he knows something wrong.
You let go off his legs; weight from your hands fully on your knees as you observe–rolling your eyes.
“I know, okay.” You breathe in, “What I was about to say was; my little brother sent it, it was not meant to be seen by you.” Another sigh before you force yourself up from the floor; coming in greater height than Hyunjae.
“Also; I wrote it when I was like 11.” To turn to the first aid kit, “So don’t get your ego too high, Ice God.”
“Sure, if that’s what you say, Angel.” Hyunjae takes his palms on the bench surface; leaning against the locker. Arch of his lips might rewrite your life when he proceeds to stare.
“Why do you even call me that?” You return to the opposite side and cross arms; to perceive him roughly as if to build similar strain in him. But it leaves to no avail.
“Why?” He quotes, “You’re sitting here healing us, our team’s little angel.” He shrugs his shoulders.
You look away as to not blossom of rose pigment–instead start organizing the materials in the aid kit.
“Either way, Jaehyun. You can go now, it’s done.”
No length of his voice waves via the dead locker ocean. After eyes set on the sections of the green bag; you glance at his bench. And to make you uncertain, his white bandage leg is still in frame. After you pull the zipper and leave the kit in your lap; you stare at Hyunjae who, with the usual smile, stares back.
“I said you can go…” Quietly and tilt your head towards the door.
“I know.” Hyunjae voices in the same tone as before.
You side eyes him still and sits up.
“I have a deal. Would you like to hear it?” He says suddenly, causing a rupture across the room and stacked tension weighing on your shoulders.
“Okay…” There’s an uncertain principle, written like a formula over your expression, layered in your voice.
“You go with me as my girlfriend for Jeno’s party this Friday.” He says monotone.
The first aid kit frees from your hands. Eyes drifting between two points and you’re left looking eyebrow knit at him two meters away. Then, forced to turn when he smiles contempt. You swiftly bend down to take the aid kit before returning gaze. Hyunjae sees in center of two bags hanging; your lips sunder to shove down the offer. Right through the concrete to the core mit.
“--Or else I’m putting up your letter for the whole campus to see.”
You immediately shut sealed and eyelids folds half over the curvature. He smiles so hard it borders on comical. And with his arms crossed over his jersey, you only wait for them to fall and see him burst out laughing; tell you he got you. But the silence prevails your thoughts and you start to believe he’s actually serious.
“I don't believe you.” You look tired at him.
“No, I’m serious.” Hyunjae still nonchalantly crossed armed and slack raised shoulders.
As another passage of ventilation comes through, beckon time like the minute visor. You finally sigh and sit down at the bench again.
“Why even me? Can’t you just ask someone else?” Frustration over the seemingly complex idea for a deal when he could make it ten times easier for himself.
His expression falters for a second after the question. Hyunjae holds his lips sealed; unaltered high posture cause he hesitates to give away his shortcomings. But on the other hand, just a little empathy might do it.
“I’m actually in a bad position, Angel.” He leans forward, voice quieter.
“Everyone knows I’ve got a girlfriend, but she broke up with me before the semester. They want to finally see her, but I got none” He pauses and leans his chin on his hand and pouts a little, “--just you.”
The withered corners of your face perks slowly up as he ends his sentence. Hyunjae smiles harder, believing he a white winged victory, but it disappears the very second you laugh in his face. Your back comes against the support of the bench while eyelids close to the bottom of laughter.
“She dumped you?” Hands gather in your knees.
“Too bad, too bad.”
It’s Hyunjae’s turn giving stale eyes. Though, just as fast; he gathers himself back and leans onto the lockers again.
“Yeah, is it a deal or not, Angel?”
You breathe in and look at him still. Hyunjae is more foolish than his appearance gave off, you don't have faith in first impressions. He might as well scan your lost letter and create a chain mail across campus. Partying wasn’t on your list for the first weekend of the semester, but maybe you could get away with lurking against the wallpaper?
You swing your left foot and finally look back at him, “Okay, deal then.”
Hyunjae smirks.
“Just this, then we're equal. No grudge, no obligations.”
“Sure.” He nods.
You tilt your chin down, “...I don’t trust you, Jaehyun.”
He lets his hands up, “Look, I’m keeping my promise. I told you my dirt too.”
“Like not having a girlfriend is as embarrassing as a love letter written in 2002.”
( friday evening )
“Okay, should we go in then?” You take a step forward but get pulled by the shirt. Shoulders come up against him and the arm sleeve of his clothing folds against your nape.
From your first encounter until Friday; you were forced to persevere through charming–bordering on foolish–remarks. The weekend prophesied as projection on the glass entrance that Friday. And it shattered the very moment Hyunjae’s voice echoed from the changing rooms. That he’ll wait for you outside the women’s dormitory. With not a twitch in own expression, he disappeared behind the frame with a wink.
One of your two roommates was also invited to the house party. The thought of having someone else other than ice god settled some relief. But as you stood waiting in the summer heat of night; the first bus went and fifteen minutes later, you saw a familiar silhouette to the left of the stairs you sat on.
He didn’t say anything when you refused to sit up and just glared tired at him.
“What’s with the face, Angel?” He had asked laughing lightly, “We’ll miss the bus.”, you are forced to stand.
“You’re late, Ice God.” You muttered and started walking towards the bus stop. Hyunjae ran up beside.
Both talked while the streetlights behind the glass window became all the more distant. Though, it didn’t become hopelessly quiet, as it was a loud friend group behind. You cursed your half sleeve arms when Hyunjae didn’t know the way to Jeno's house from the bus stop. Forced to traverse between bushes when he pointed at mindless directions. Swore that he knew the “shortcut”. And ants might as well have climbed up your toes and into your underwear.
Now, as either stands before the three stairs and the entrance door in the midst of the front yard. You're pulled against his chest (still covered in leaves).
“Not so fast.”
Though he’s out of peripheral vision; the self satisfied tone at every articulate visualizes his smile. His hands like a thin veil across your shoulders–you take a step back from them, to face him fully.
“Okay then? What’s the plan, Ice God?” You cross arms to build some fence–to match his pride. But either only shares an instant of eye contact before you press your lips and look towards the sad flowers hidden in the corner.
Hyunjae has always enjoyed teasing people. Of course, a bit apprehensive to strangers, but nonetheless; he waits no time to poke at the first friend closest in sight. He himself has probably no thought about it, but he has a thrill for watching people’s reactions. You were no different. Like the sun; secret behind the trees, it’s always so obvious. You were flustered by his turns of nicknames and comments; so much that you feel to defend your blemished garden. There’s something endearingly professional about you, he thinks.
“You have a lip balm or something?” He cocks an eyebrow.
You look at your belongings; eyes looking as narrow threads when apprehensive. To wait for his signature laughter but instead nods his head. You roam around the bag; hands helping to widen your vision, but not enough to notice his fingers below the tender sprout against your head. You look up to see him with one of your two hair clips. Curious what he’ll do; you try no fence when he sets it on his fringe.
“Now I’m yours.” He smiles.
Hyunjae comes down to you slightly before returning; taking his eyes off and onto the entrance before brushing past your shoulder. Because of the evening shades, the red pigments on your cheeks withers out with skin as you look behind your shoulder to see Hyunjae’s figure let the deafening conversations from inside, out. He doesn’t look back towards you, and you knit eyebrows before taking double steps up the stairs and into the house.
With one step you push yourself off the wallpaper; feel shoulders brushing up against your own as the living room opens.
Hyunjae held your hand for the first half an hour. He then let go when something happened between the friends (you didn’t know). But even then you tailed after like some home cat. Though, as anxiety arose after seeing a group of Eric’s friends in the same room, you cautiously backed into the corner. Some stranger did the rest for you when they collided with the table and Jeno’s grandma fell lid first and shattered on the floor. It became a bit quiet when poor grandma(s ashes) laid there, all spread out.
After Jeno panicked and some helped clean up; the chamber of incomprehensible conversations started again.
There’s cliques scattered between the couches. You reach on high toes to see past all the height and hair to locate the frame you came in from. Soon you fall back to your heels, just as the chorus waves through the walls. The crowd suddenly opens up before you when two people walk away. You’re left still and see the open door to the hallway. Shoulders come down in height just as you breathe out. Relieved to take a step to finally leave; but your feet barely touch the wood until eyes widens and air asphyxiates in your throat.
At the end of the high walls; Eric stands half a meter from the door frame. A lamp shines from behind him, lightning up his half body. Like the sun; he becomes the very essence of the narrow square.
You turn in a desperate attempt for survival. This season heat and packed building; it all bends backwards through the grass field in all four directions.
Immediately you see diagonally behind, a staircase up to the second floor. You don't even look back to Eric before colliding with someone's back and sprint up. There’s no lighting up the wooden stairs, just Earth’s wailing moon through the pier glass.
All those voices–through speakers or chords–wanes like the full to crescent moon month.
There’s closed doors around. It burns pace from behind and you take the handle of the door left to the stairs. Without letting it open even half way; you slip past the glimpse and lock it shut.
You lean close to the door; feel the cold wood on your left cheek. The party’s over on this side. Like the melancholic memory of falling asleep to the adults in the other room.
When you expect nothing; a clear voice from behind reiterates peculiar sentences.
Not strong enough to take your chin off the door; you look past your shoulder to see someone in the bathtub with a damned annotated book.
It takes about three seconds from first contact until the bathtub guy flinches, “Ah!?”
“Oh my god!” Your eyes widen while your shoulders contract as wings.
It echoes between the tiles when his book lands on the bathtub floor. To face the sudden him, distressed; your hands come up in height with your wing like bone.
“Sorry.” You deadpan.
“No, it’s okay.” He answers, soft spoken. Eye contact stays fleeting as his fringe–like curtains–falls before the mirage window when he reaches for the book. He mends the awry strands into place; scour the wordy dimensions to where he left off.
You recall his soft silken halo. Hands come down to its sides and you lean off the door. Like a main character from an academic tale; he looks deeply dreamlike–always somewhere else. The guy feels your presence still as above the title cover; his eyes peeks.
At this point, you look at him with wide eyes horror; ready for him to either aristocratically roast your fourteen old writing, or condense into second hand embarrassment and hide under the bathtub.
Lee Juyeon sits in the damn bathtub of a house party.
As you’re deep in fourth dimensional torment; Juyeon speaks first.
“Oh, Y/n.”
He smiles, still holds the book before him.
You refuse to move, “Hi…Juyeon.”
“That was a long time.” He switches between your eyes and the next sentence.
The tension in your frame aids in turn for every second. Juyeon doesn’t mention any letters, but still, you eye him suspiciously.
“Yeah.” You agree awkwardly.
“Why are you here?” You ask.
Juyeon pauses in sentence once again to shift his fringe and look up. You had nearly forgotten the patterns of silence and speaking he so often followed. Back when they always met; they spent so many seconds simply waiting for him to talk.
“I would ask you the same thing.” He sort of tilts his head attentively.
With your lips pursed instead of answering, you look to the mirror above the sink. Water in delicate droplets dive in while he turns the next page.
“Escaping things?” He asks, still reading.
You nod.
“We all do.”
You see him through the mirror reflection. His eyes bent like a faint wave from shore; reassures her lone presence.
As he closes off himself again; you figure he doesn’t mind their shared space. There’s no sign of knowledge about your letter. Juyeon always reeked of innocence, so maybe you’re wishing.
But Eric’s still one floor below (taking the safe option).
You take a seat on the bathtub edge. Shoulder faces Juyeon who leans his back on the discolord cream white tiles. .
“Should I read something for you?” He asks soothingly.
You hesitate before letting your hands comfortably down the edge, “Okay.”
“You want some?” He reaches out the green glass bottle.
Your shoulders scoff when your mind affirms, “Thank you.”
Juyeon asks suddenly, “How’s Scuba Steve?”
Truly the only thing left that protects from not spitting out the alcohol is embarrassment. You do an expression tainted by drinks or unease, and let the bottle down your lap.
To wonder how in the passage of all years; Juyeon recalls your insignificant house cat that mated with his own (or maybe it’s not that weird when you think after).
There’s a sort of foolish–bordering on stupid–touch in your chest that he actually never forgot Scuba Steve. One could guess we live on, assuming we’re the only one that remembers.
“Oh, he’s dead.” You deadpan.
“Oh.”
The room reaches–what resembles closest to silence– in a house party. Both their lips are pressed in thin lines as they view the tiles above each other again.
“You then?” Silence starts to torture you briefly in your fingers.
“How’s…” Your face contracts in parallel to the ceiling when scattered bleached cuts from that black little cat sleeping on his floor.
“Mindy?” He says.
“Oh, Yeah.”
They both laugh.
“She’s still alive.” He lets the book down for the first time (excluding the jumpscare), “She’s with mom and dad. Though she's getting very old now, she eats less and doesn’t even go out anymore.”
As they sat there talking about cats and poetry; eventually the boundary past the toilet door ceases. You didn’t leave that end of the bathtub (aside from running down the kitchen with Juyeon for more alcohol).
Now they lie on opposite builds against the cold edge. It’s been sometime since you drank, specifically this much. You can’t talk for Juyeon, but he seems pretty damn wasted too. Your eyes dares to fall while Juyeon’s shirt climbs up his chin as he comes deeper down the tub.
“I can’t wake up here.” You mumble. Either to yourself or decked out Juyeon; you don't know. He answers something incomprehensible back as a bottle in the scattered line before the bathtub falls. While you grasp for the handle, you turn barely to Juyeon who has his eyes half open.
“Bye, Juyeon, it was epic.” You wave your free hand, “Tell Mindy I said Hi.”
“I’ll do.” He tiredly answers back.
The alcohol withers boundaries within your body. Turns it weak for the downstairs crowd, like poison inducing nausea. In line with poison; You walk as if zombie apocalypse smitten down the stairs without holding onto the railing. Somehow reaches the ground floor and passes through the living room.
Whatever mechanisms your mind built to defend its dignity from Eric; it took the place of the alcohol in its glass bottles. You’re in the hallway, three meters from the entrance. It’s overheating–worse than a sauna–in the house. Mere presence of tepid air has your hands trailing along the walls.
A warmth presence dividing the you and outside blocks. In a desperate drunk attempt you push against it and complain.
“Out the way, you’re fucking hot.”
“I am?”
It speaks back, in a tone rather mischievous than what your state calls for. With a shift of the inner lightning; you realize you have your hands on a uni jacket. The logo turns and you would accuse him of motion sickness.
From your face-low angle, his hands are tied between the blue pockets. You lean harder on the wall to force your chin where his head is tilted with a smile to the same degree.
“You’re still here.” You still complain and his face drops. Eyes fleet between your face, the opposite wall, and the entrance door to return.
“That wasn’t a compliment, right?” His fingers directed to his chest.
“No, Einstein.” Eyebrows knit when realizing you’ve drifted off the main mission. Two shoulders on opposite ends collide as you hastily drag along to the frame.
“Woah, woah.” The male student takes your wrist lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” You defend without knowing.
“You’re gonna fall down the stairs.”
His voice is strangely worried which you would have been touched by, if it wasn’t for the drunk state.
Mid temperatures of night may have transpired any senses as you don't answer. He takes this to come up in line with you; one decimeter away from the first stairs.
There’s two people, solitude in a hammock to the right, and prey like shadows of two around the grass. Music from inside is still too loud, and it probably hides someone puking at the other end.
“I’ll help you, okay? I’m not a weirdo.”
You turn your head to side eye him. Either promise respect or sacrificially bow down, he throws his hand up. To then gently lie it on your shoulder, lead you down.
“That’s what a weirdo would say.” You mumble without working against him.
Gravel scratches underneath their feet and the male student takes his hand off your shoulder; though still twined by the wrist.
He starts, “I need your name, I should call–”
“Sunwoo!”
It seizes pulsations from inside, and the male student takes his head from you. Features on his face and the blue jacket is immediately recognised by the one below. The student's eyes are wide and Sunwoo’s eyebrows hold a neutral position above.
“Jaehyu–”
“She’s my girlfriend!” Hyunjae takes your wrist from him.
“Why are you still standing here?” He agitates before wandering off the gates with you.
Sunwoo shoves his hands up in height with his chest once again; not risking to start fighting with the reigning hockey player while he’s half drunk, half angry.
“I don’t think I’m allowed in here.” Sounds tense.
“It’s not like you’re here to hook up.”
“They don’t know that.” Hyunjae deadpans.
After both left Sunwoo at the stone stairs, Hyunjae coursed through the shrubbery once again. You seemed confused over the interaction; he doesn’t think you even realized the hand on your own changed. He thought you would sober up during the train ride, but you still took irregular stepping patterns down the warm lighted gravel path.
While down the glass entrance to the soaring female dormitory; Hyunjae motioned you to walk in. But as fast he let go of your shoulder, you stumbled three steps back.
“What should we do then?” Hyunjae asks, frustrated.
“I don’t know, it was your idea to go the party.” You cross arms.
“And yours to get so drunk that you can’t stand.” He spits back.
The night pulls them close when they wait lonely, as if exiled. Summer cicadas swallow their venom words and when one street lamp flickers; Hyunjae sighs and takes a seat down the stairs. You follow.
Once the peaceful moon renders all its light, leaving it to its bones; your head falls to his shoulder. While you carve shapes in its craters, your arms mindlessly pull him close. The strands of your hair accumulate on his neck, and while filed under the same sky, your breath sounds like a soundtrack to him.
Like the passage from day to night; he notices his heart like it’s vastly alive. How many eyes have looked at him adoringly, but he can’t even anxiously look down your side. It’s familiar yet strange, he refuses to acknowledge it. And still you are oblivious, can’t even see his blushing face.
“Shouldn’t you go home?” You ask softly. Tired and slow in contrast to the previous sentence.
“I can’t leave you here.” He finally looks down at you.
“Then you're going to be tired tomorrow.” Guilt visually lines your sunken silhouette.
Hyunjae smiles, “You’re gonna be too.”
He speaks gently again after silence, “Sober up a bit more and you’ll walk up.”
03 . CHAPTER THREE
( saturday midday )
Not because you thought you were immortal anyway, but the next morning came crashing through the roof. While grieving your roof (it wasn’t broken), you swore the ceiling fan was up to mock you in its circles. All while last night lingers as a supercut.
Your two roommates had woken up earlier, they were supposed to go out. Where? You can’t remember; at that point you were still trying to figure out who you bickered with outside Jeno’s stairs.
Either way, the bottom line is; you didn’t throw off your clothes, and no texts from Eric.
The campus is idyllically still in late summer. Bird whistle intertwines with the wind who walks like you through the grass, under the same gravel path Hyunjae led you yesterday. Sun drenched tree crowns and your eyes yearn through the gaps.
There’s a yellow haze over the world and when you take another step; charge in gravel comes from behind. How your legs sway towards the grass border, fleeting levels with your eyes over your shoulder. A bicycle comes half a meter before; stops it with his right foot.
“Oh–Hi, Y/n.”
“Oh, Juyeon?”
He jumps off the saddle and they fall in same line.
“You look a bit tired?” Juyeon asks in a voice, perfect sync with the bird song. Once again the world falls so dream-like behind him.
“Yeah, yesterday was…stressful.” You take a palm up to your forehead.
Juyeon’s smile falters, anxiously tilts his head, “Did I do something last night?”
“No,no–something else happened…not you.” Hand between the open space which you wave reassuringly. His eyes become concerned and yours only redder. Hyunjae’s touch still lingers on that half of your body; you’re afraid Juyeon can see it.
You ask something else instead, “You then? You’re not tired?”
He laughs softly, “A bit.” “But I’m supposed to meet a family friend.”
You nod.
Leaving the last tree behind; the blue sky opens up, just in time for his revelation. Juyeon turns to you fully. Merely one can make out the contour of a light bulb above his head.
“She bought two of our kittens; Lemon and…” He knits his eyebrows, unable to see your eyes, brilliant with curiosity.
“I forgot.” He laughs, “They’re big now, I see them sometimes.”
“Really?”
Juyeon hums, “Do you want to see them?”
“Of course!..if it’s okay for your friend?”
“She’s a lady my mother knows.” Juyeon takes one leg over the bicycle saddle and tilts his head–so that his hair too–points to the rack.
“Jump on.”
To exchange his eyes with the bicycle rack; you purse your lips and walk behind. Hands immediately cling to the metal frame, but as Juyeon weighs forward, you hold onto his shirt.
Juyeon looks back and smiles as you struggle, “Hold my waist or you’ll fall off.”
At this moment, you’re so deeply relieved he hasn’t read your letter. It eases the touch in your hands as they come to his front. Shirt folded above your clasped hands lies like a veil.
That feeling, of when a perfect alignment of past and memory presents. It washes over one as soften, melancholic, whiplash. You hadn’t thought about his scent in years, but as they chase the sun yet never pass it, his shirt touches your cheek. In his home where they used to sit on knees beside each other. It flutters your heart tenderly.
At the high end peak you felt burdensome. Juyeon reassured you while weighing onto the pedals standing. He seemed to quietly persist in breathing through his nose, even when he was audible panting.
He led the bicycle to the front, beneath the shadowed roof; you cast your eyes over the asphalt end. The wind rushes through nature up here. As such the foreground, alive, before the still concrete and bricks.
Juyeon called your name to where he waited beside the door. With a half a shoulder hidden by his own, the bell goes off. A lady opens and smiles instantly as she sees Juyeon. Her wrist in rose patterns reaches out for his shoulder, comforts it gently. Since you’re a stranger; you’re left to awkwardly observe and retell like a narrator.
“Oh, you have a girl with you?” She smiles at Juyeon, which he returns. He introduces you to the lady while she weakly widens the door gap.
She still talks when three cats come to the hallway rug. Curiously they silently circle your legs, but they too can tell you’re no threat.
An orange cat, clothed in layers of orange fur, brushes its head against your calf. You immediately bend down to pet it. To figure out if this fox-like complexion existed in your past too; you tilt your head. But your cat’s were more like crows than foxes.
Apparently something must have shown because Juyeon says from beside.
“This is Belle, they had their own kittens here. Ours are probably resting on the couch.”
You look up, “Oh.”
The old lady goes to the kitchen to take out tea and biscuits. Meanwhile Juyeon guides you to the living room where three other cats lie in the cushions of a worn down brown couch. Their socks tenderly span across the clear floor, and it must have woken them up. You smile briefly when they instantly seem to recognize him; reach their heads up for touch once he sits. All weights deeper down the material once you sit beside him. Touching shoulders to see a cat lick his finger in his lap.
Like a jet black scarf in his jeans pattern; it contrasts from the faint white mark–like a moon at night–on her head.
“She’s so big now.” You say when visions from those evenings before the TV playing Sailor Moon. You called out her name–Luna–that day when you saw her cramped between her siblings.
Juyeon also named a kitten after a TV show he watched..
“Is that Mum Mew?”
Now in direction towards the floor; a larger cat, half underneath the couch, half on your feet.
Juyeon laughs, “He’s Oscar now.” He leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever told her that was his original name.”
They sit there until the lady comes out again.
“It’s so lovely that you got a girlfriend, Juyeon.” She puts down the plate and the two look at her, “I’ve all actually thought about you a lot. I’ve been thinking about calling your mother to set you up with someone, I started to get a bit worried.”
The lady has an attentive x on her face. The skin on her forehead hides nothing as it folds, deeply contemplated. Only with your head down and suppressed smile, can you clearly notice the plates against wooden surfaces. Juyeon scratches his nape frantically while laughing.
"Yeah, uhh–” He stammer.
“You know, by your age, I was with many guys.” She sits down on the opposite chair.
“We got together, then we broke up. I had a guy in Paris who I really liked.” She leans forward, “Back then I was so in love I wanted to stay. I thought he was perfect! Kind, handsome, sex–”
“What’s the type of cookie?” Juyeon suddenly bursts out. Leaned over the table pointing at the brown one that’s obviously chocolate. But the lady doesn’t seem to bother.
“Oh, you see!”
You press your lips, the color might have vanished. Though it was painfully awkward; Juyeon was just adorable enough to turn the situation endearing. She still describes in detail over her mother’s mother recipe; and Juyeon from the side nods his head attentively, like he always does.
After another conversation, the topic returns.
“So when did you meet?”
Turns to exchange question marks between you. His eyes don't say much and you guess yours neither.
Juyeon scratches his nape, “We’ve been friends for sometime.”
Lady nods, “Since when?”
“Like…” He looks at you for confirmation, “...fourteen or fifteen?”
“Did you confess, Juyeon? Or Y/n?” She smiles and looks at you, “Juyeon is a bit shy, I’ll be surprised if he confessed.”
He retreats back to the couch; sinks down the heavy material. You laugh lightly at how his shoulders, swallows by waves of brown textile.
“Y/n actually liked me first back then.” He points out gently.
You freeze.
“Then I confessed in university.”
The old woman does a sweet smile; hands patterned of life lie like a cover over her heart as she looks at both.
For the longer you’re in someone’s presence; one starts to adjust to the traits. But even how many conversations went on and the sun above crossed her roof; your shoulders hardened. Like irreversible death does to your physical state, you seem unable to look to Juyeon’s side. By all stars in the universe; you’re suddenly transparent. Obvious, translucent piercing glass.
You looked out the window at the old woman’s house; terrifyingly, the sky was pink. All the world disappeared at fatal speed when they bicycled back to campus. There must be a sort of brilliant snow, in a color out of our spectrum, that rains down on Earth in summer evening. It leaves the landscape quiet and calm. Cicadas sing when everyone else ceases to.
None of you felt like going to the dorms just yet, instead; you now sit in the auditorium. Though either laugh echoes throughout the wide open space, there’s a dissolving acid in your lungs, begging to drink all air.
All those characteristics of a person reveal to the open world after all these years. Because you can’t remember Juyeon being so persistent in apologizing. They came in on the “girlfriend” incident; he smiled embarrassingly, felt guilty for forcing you in on it. You told him it was okay.
After echoing silence; it soars through the auditorium. Juyeon reaches down his backpack with all its scattered papers. There’s a velvety pulse keeping the space next to you occupied while he’s elsewhere. Once Juyeon comes out of the canvas material; your eyes widen in terror, contrasting the melodic decoration of red velvet and wood.
Your conscious runs desperately from this room, but physical state is in the same seat.
Juyeon holds out a blue letter with your handwriting on it.
“I should’ve said it sooner, I’m sorry.” He says in that gentle tone he always speaks to you with. Maybe a soft arch at the end of the sentence. Nonetheless, you imaginary stabs the mind resting in your bone cradle.
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You look at him once before turning to the empty seat and make an expression. One of deep second hand embarrassment that comes from the very narrow part of ‘me’ and sends like shivers.
“I understand.” Juyeon follows your movements, “You were not supposed to see that letter, they shouldn’t have been leaked.”
Worried you might have genuinely caused borderline trauma for the poor guy; you turn to him, “I’m really sorry.”
“No.” The corners of his lips turn into leaves of a red apple. His eyes clouds the color round the pupil and his height convulses barely as he leans into the seat.
Parts of us never veins, and in front of you, he’s the same boy who patted kittens and was deeply sad when they parted from their mother.
“I’m honestly very touched by it.” He admits.
He was back in his childhood home for the last week before semester. When folding the navy sheets of his old bed; his mother came up. A letter in her hand with turquoise color and bubble arch letters in pink ink. Already, it couldn’t be something written in ‘today’.
And Juyeon is truthful towards you. He read it on the train back home. Always oblivious but grateful nonetheless. Used the window like a passage to the time where you sat beside him on the bedroom floor.
“Really?” You say surprised.
He nods, “I’ve never gotten a love letter before.”
You would scoff and tell him he’s lying, but as his appreciative eyes blur with the blue envelope; you don’t.
“You know, I think you should join the writer’s club here on campus.” Juyeon smiles at you suddenly.
“What?” You lean away.
“Really.” His eyes shapes of honest o’s, “Like–of course there’s some grammar mistakes and you spelt ‘desperatly’ wrong, but you got the feeling!”
Still the same skeptical expression answers him back.
“I’m really serious Y/n.”
Own hands in your lap trail towards each other like opposite poles, “I’ll think about it.”
You watch how he timidly holds the edges and opens the envelope again. Lips shaped in pout like he wonders.
“Does it bother you if I keep it?” He asks.
Head shake, though still confused, “No, you can keep it.”
“Thank you.” He smiles endearingly and tucks it back between the papers and folders.
A revelation wasn’t as horrid as you thought. Hyunjae’s was deeply embarrassing, but there’s a brief space for contemptment in your heart where anxiety wandered before. Like a visual sight of the butterfly; you look up at the auditorium and ponder over the hidden connections.
You didn’t expect anything from Juyeon; that time has passed. But his now grown up presence seems to fulfill this daily life too.
“Did others get letters?” Juyeon breaks silence. Like always, his expression paints past the physical boundaries, and one could make out white lines of curious cat ears.
You figure he means the “they shouldn’t have been leaked”.
You nod and he tilts his head. Visual intrigue and anticipation from his seat, but you close off in rose pigment like tired flowers.
“I'd rather not tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You laugh and Juyeon leans back, reassuring.
This anticipating silence doesn’t cease. It exists as a continuation, a ‘more’ before the ‘end’. One person can’t seem to leave the edge undiscovered, rather, you wait for the red thread to tie its last loop.
“You know Eric has been looking for you? He seems to miss you a lot.” Juyeon finally says. Tone serious than anything else that left his lips.
A stone grows between your throat, not acid. There’s no dissolving, just constant aching as you try to move.
Juyeon continues to talk as you’re silent, “I don’t know what it is, but he’s very understanding…”
He pauses, “...and you know, cause you know him better than I do.”
04 . CHAPTER FOUR
( tuesday, morning )
“Where’s the psychiatrist?”
“At the library.”
“No, I can’t talk to Juyeon anymore.” He groans.
To drift from the flat roofs outside the window; Eric looks at Sunwoo, further the beige walls. Sunwoo’s head is deep tucked beneath the bedding; Eric crawls over from his own bed to the end of Sunwoo’s. When the weight leans towards Sunwoo’s feet, he closes the pink envelope and lets the navy sheets hide it. The cover comes off Sunwoo’s head by Eric. His face like the moon causes an eclipse over the sun and Sunwoo stares unenchanted back at it.
“Y/n still haven't answered my messages, it’s been like three weeks!” Eric forces the pillow down.
“I wouldn’t answer you either.” Sunwoo pats bedding over his chest while Eric throws the pillow at his side.
They just became friends at the end of the last semester and decided to room for this year. As one’s social circles opens up in double doors whenever Eric comes; your name was one of the first he heard. Sunwoo immediately leaned intrigued at the name, but figured it was just a mere coincidence. He was bound to grow from youth and twine old names with new faces.
Either way, destiny doesn’t exist, and he won’t take a bait from the universe. Though, Sunwoo threaded over that principle the week before uni started. He worked at the old summer camp and a letter came during the closing week.
“To Sunwoo”, nothing else. Curiosity took the best of him and he opened the letter to see “From Y/n'' at the end of a massive paragraph.
The universe got him this time, he admits. In how many positions has he reread the letter and dreamt of the yellow filtered summer from when he was thirteen. In truth he reminiscenced about you those summer’s after. Once reaching adulthood, he realized there was no point in yearning, it’s been years. But this late season has turned into the car ride home from that camp, still with you in vision, so close but not here.
At this point ‘Y/n’ feels like a mere fragment of his imagination; therefore he wont tell. Keep your name from any seekers and contemplate.
After laughter; Eric plummets to the bed and looks up at the ceiling, feeling Sunwoo’s legs at his elbow.
“I just don’t understand why she can’t talk to me.” He murmurs.
“Did anything happen?”
Only Juyeon knows about the letter Eric received from his best friend. A confession he has longed for since he lived in his castle (big house), but never would be granted.
Eric thought their connection was stronger than this. Why did you send it if you weren't seeking answers? Why now, this place at this time?
He has traced every curve of your letters; stared at facebook and mail box. Even the refrigerator at night for answers.
Though everything the roommates did this summer; Eric can’t tell him, not yet. It’s the luminous memories coming to his ruins. Sunwoo is his presence.
Silent melancholia climbs above the horizon together with the bleeding sun at the football field. Lines of the goals, rigid and angular, separate the pink-orange growing fragments. Breeze from east colds your heated heart while waiting on the bleachers for Hyunjae.
You were forced to wake up; not following the united routine of the dormitory when he needed help for a training pass at dawn. But he’s not in sight.
Half asleep leaning on the backpack, center of your lap; waiting for something holy to run past.
World’s colors fade into abstraction behind the pupil and a small figure crosses the field. You don’t notice how it leaves the red tracks, closer to the bleachers. Same breeze that touched you passes through its shirt and by mere coincidence. He turns his head opposite from the sunrise and sees you lone illuminated.
Sunwoo recognises the person despite different clothing. There’s an unconscious underlying characteristic in posture. Sunwoo has been entranced by his own world, but he did think a lot of the pretty girl who fell drunk out of the entrance at Jeno’s party.
Slowly his feet take him further from the white lines.
“You’re okay?” His voice tears the plaster away from your vision.
To look up from the bleacher, a ruler higher than the green grass, they make eye contact. It takes a pattern of blinking but at last you speak.
“What?”
“I saw you at the party last Friday, I just wonder if you’re okay?” He repeats.
A sort of second hand deja vu like nausea, spreads from the visual, coming back. Forces the parallel expression to the feeling, down and instead scratches your head.
“Oh.” Eyes widen, “Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks.”
Solitude pushes down into the field with the next breeze. The two of them linger in the same place though the conversation seemed to have ended long ago. You who tie eyes on the far tower of the male dormitory, look back towards him. He stands with barely knit eyebrows, two meters away. It’s not an uncomfortable stare whatsoever, rather curious as the sun rising above the world.
You smile, “You’re trying to place me…”
Trying destiny runs through him but nonetheless he’s taken by the sudden realization. You see how the expression unravels and a single shooting star passes the brown coloration of his left eye.
“You’re Y/n; Y/n from summer camp?”
You don't react as quickly and are now left blaring into the past and present and the same time.
“We went kayaking together, don’t you remember?” He points at himself, “I’m Sunwoo.”
The star falls in east and transcends pink orange shine throughout the campus. For a second; you would have fallen from first row down the grass field with knees bruised of embarrassment, but just in time, you realized that the address written on the letter wasn’t his, just the camp.
“Sunwoo?” Your posture folds higher to come into view with his own. Truly there’s exciting nostalgia within.
“I didn’t know you went here.” You say slowly.
“Me neither.” Sunwoo laughs.
While in awe over the struck of fate; eyes momentarily drift to the right. Another shadow cuts through the horizon and appears closer while jogging across the field. All light still shines in your eyes while standing up. They come in equal footing and quietly watch each other. He looks over behind and sees Hyunjae. Sunwoo doesn’t quite feel like leaving yet; wished they were stored a moment longer.
His arms just barely lifts off his sides to embrace you, but the sharp sequence of Hyunjae and you strikes him at the spinal cord. Not wanting to disrupt your relationship again.
You’re left with wide eyes as Sunwoo runs off the direction he appeared from.
“Bye Y/n, see you around!”
It all just played as if at two times speed. One hand lifts to wave from your side of the world while the last strands disappear beyond the goals.
By peripheral vision, Hyunjae traces Sunwoo. Once more, there’s a torturous sensation growing between marrow bone and heart. When you look his way he feels your eyes held down on him only.
“You never take water with you, Ice God.”
While still a meter across, you throw the water bottle to him and he captures it perfectly. Hyunjae looks up with eye-framed windows like staring at the sun.
“You’re close with Sunwoo?”
Your bag falls to the ground, “We went to summer camp together, I didn’t know he studied here.”
Briefly nod while his bag too comes down the grass. You lucid leaning onto the bleachers again–until Hyunjae starts sprinting in one place. The end strands of his hair in parallel motions and his child-like smile shine between the pauses.
“Let’s run.” He says.
“I have a volleyball match later.” Back falls to the second and third row as you complain.
He laughs and takes your wrist, “Running helps with stress.”
White ribbons knitted along the green corners; they jog the red track field and do a few rounds. Each passage closest to the bleachers you see the shadows diagonally downgrade across the seats.
Despite having their lungs barely reaching air; Hyunjae persists in conversation. It presses from Earth towards your upper body as you unconsciously choose words before steps. But Hyunjae too seems incredibly out of breath for someone that trains as much as he does.
You won’t admit it just yet–if ever–that his company is actually enjoyable.
He lingers across the sport’s center until the shift has ended, and talks to you in insignificant states. In one way; your long shadow at the end of your feet feels guilty. An idea of a self serving dude with too much attention. In truth; he laughs a lot.
“When’s the game?” Hyunjae asks as their feet come out of synch.
They stand still catching breath.
“At three.” You sigh and start walking to the bleachers.
“Then, I’ll skip this lesson.” Hyunjae stands next to you.
He takes out the water bottle you gifted him. Presence from your side lingers on him as he drinks, and he raises his eyebrows at the long look.
“You don’t have to come though.” The lines above eyes cross in a slight perplexed X.
“You were at my game last time, I should come to.” Hyunjae smiles gently.
( tuesday, afternoon )
“Need to go to the toilet; nervousness makes me pee.”
‘21’ in bold font disappears behind the bended wall. You direct towards people in fitted shirts as patterns before the teal walls.
It’s not usual for you to be nervous before games; nor to be completely absorbed by else’s. Now you’re unconventionally a bit more dreamy. The halo in your eyes, up at the sky and shoulder’s slack as if moon-touched. Your teammates pointed it out too when you didn’t answer after ‘Y/n!’.
Sunwoo reentered your life this morning. The boy that had caused such a heartbreak it was unbelievable. And despite your time changes, you found yourself counting the star constellations he told you that summer.
This sort of unending chase starts again, that the letters dated to the old camp will find its way to him. Like a foolish child's secret.
You also wonder why Hyunjae was so persistent on going to your match. One could thread through the interactions and guess he’s become comfortable in your life too. But there’s a brief self reflection. You neither rejected him to come or encouraged. Maybe you want someone up on the bleachers shouting your name, even if it’s not Eric.
Wooden floor reflects the studio lights like water. Eyes wanders immediately from teammates up to the bleachers. Blue plastic seats on row, to the very windows where it barely collides with the roof. There’s a few silhouettes in groups up on the high rows. Everyone waving their hands to someone, not you.
When you see number 21 stop before the white line and bring her arm high up to one standing; you suddenly regret not messaging Eric. Though, just as fast; he maybe wouldn’t even have showed up?
One loud whistle comes from the left; your head directs off the green line tracing vertically. Sees teammates reach their hand out for you to the ring building at the side of the rectangular room. On the opposite, mirrors like theirs in green shirts, they gather.
Thin water like bubbles trace down the narrow row from your temples. All these bubbles that have accumulated beneath the shirt, down knees and threading your throat like a transparent necklace.
Once the last whistle soars across ceiling; you return to the corner of teammates. Someone touches your arm while running for water; a teammate smiles sincerely but exhausted.
When shoes are in line with the white painted diagonal; your name chants above all noise. From the floor, your eyes see Hyunjae coming down the blue seats. You aren’t able to reiterate his name before arms of his own wrap around shoulders.
The invincible spot of cologne sits beneath his shoulder blade. Evoking gently as your chin, supported by the broad shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back and try to look at his face but only reaches his ear.
Suddenly you feel a bit insecure.
“I’m really sweaty, Hyunjae.” You laugh awkwardly.
“Yeah,” His hands retrites without walking back.
Lips curve to gentle his face and the eyes like porcelain.
“, and it fits you.”
A strand falls before your eyes; tucked in by his hands like a dove’s wing.
Once the match heat flush red, another round of pigment paints your cheeks. There’s no hinder above your eyes left, but still you shake your head and cough; all while Hyunjae still smiles.
“Thank you, Jaehyun.”
His expression, more blinding than the long lights above. It’s impossible to not curl up before. You have a certain love for looking away when adoration blooms like spring season on him. Somehow you seemed to have missed when he came to the bleachers too.
It’s quiet, but Hyunjae still feels like hearing your voice.
He starts, “You did grea-”
“Y/n!”
A voice so deeply teared apart and assembled within your mind, that it exists stored in the furthest corners. There’s a certain nerve created just to react to that tone fall, you believe.
With eyes widened and fingers loosen from each other; you pierce towards the blue door. People still run past your double vision, but for a second the world stopped.
Eric stands with hands in the blue frame. The universe must’ve heard that wish you prayed before, and in some way, full of relief and exhaustion, you’re happy it did. Eric is visually as hesitant as you, bearing fear and soft in heart pulses.
“Sorry, Hyunjae, it’s something important.” You jog up to the double door determined. With one last glance to the bleachers, “See you later! …Thanks for coming!”
Confinement exists excruciating; you hoped it was just the sunbleached walls with square hole windows that trapped them. But not even the open atmosphere, heaven to the infinite universe could save them from what’s been left unsaid.
Eric asked while passing doors “I have messaged you for two weeks, why didn’t you answer?”. You could only look at him for a second before turning to the open field. His expression begs of confusion, but truly you think he knows why.
It’s silent. Wind from east campus brushes between the grass. You become the only thing stagnant along the heavy constructions weighing down on Earth as Eric walks up the bleachers. Blue faded denim pockets console his hands as he holds sight on his converse before white plastic.
“You didn’t even tell me you had a game today.” He refuses to make eye contact.
Head falls low; everythings to remind you that guilt is the heaviest matter on Earth.
Theoretically, it’s supposed to be useless feeling alone or unloved with a person like Eric. Sometimes you catch yourself staring in mirrors to search for another pair of eyes. But it’s hard to be miserable when Eric’s been a phone call away.
It was lonely without you, but I pushed you away.
“I’m sorry.” You finally say.
It’s the only thing you get out as you walk up the bleachers. Together on the second row; they watch the green grass and its maroon building boxes. A mellow sun on the edge of disappearing while the land continues flat forever. A wind of different temperature while the concrete still radiates warmth.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you Eric.” You speak again.
Their shoes in different font over the white row; you look at them before his side appears in the same position as you. They make eye contact in what feels timeless and it trips on your heart.
“I was-”
“It’s oka-”
There’s silence as they stare at each other; anticipating the other. Though the ink period of the passage becomes laughter as their shoulders collide like the southern and north pole. It ends up being Eric who speaks.
“You’re forgiven.” He smiles and Earth sighs of relief with you.
The two poles of their angular edge bind them gently. North and south diasporas sit in silence, whispers of the flat city come from all directions and it smells like grass or nothing in particular.
A closed connection where everything flows freely without hinder; you had nearly forgotten about that feeling.
Courage drapes whatever embarrassment was left in you. To breathe in before honest confession. That you love him deeply still, though any romanticized visions are of the past.
As you think of it; a part of the old self frees and runs with you back towards the grass field.
“I actually like you too, Y/n.”
It hitches in your throat.
“You don’t have to answer yet.” His smile reeks of cotton candy, and the hand on her shoulder before he leaves radiates in puddles like theme parks.
“I’ll wait for you, princess!” Eric shouts with his hand in his pockets before turning his back. The same nickname he’s called you since seven, never understanding why.
The stark contour of the real world fades as he disappears towards the dormitory until he’s just a mere dot.
It’s still warm, but summer has made one privileged. You feel like wearing a jacket as your old self now takes the empty space beside.
05 . CHAPTER FIVE
( thursday, afternoon )
Ji Changmin has never been great at sport, and that’s never with a big N. Last night the breaking news of a 2 day beach party got delivered by the infamous friend group, and of course, everyone would be playing the mandatory volleyball games.
Changmin took his backpack and ran, hoping Eric would be too busy arguing with someone else to notice the empty chair. But at last, Changmin walked up the dormitory corridor with Eric hanging from his left calf like chained. Desperately begging that it wouldn’t be the same if everyone doesn’t come.
One thing led to the other and every dorm heard a passing march of footsteps to the other end. Changmin was running after Eric whilst he screamed of absolute terror (traumatized from the year before when changmin chased him down the campus, drunk). In a last attempt of escape; Eric jumped Juyeon’s room and made a borderline olympic leep down the bedding before Juyeon processed the door had been opened.
Like the unofficial therapist he is; Juyeon told Changmin he has a friend in the volleyball team that can teach him this afternoon so as to not embarrass himself completely.
And that’s how you stand in the same hall; wide eyed and chills growing like rose stems it might strangle you. Though, you could’ve been more embarrassed as Changmin looks about the same.
With an aggressive tilt to your shoulder while eyelids reach your eyebrows; a firm stare directed at Juyeon. Quietly it signals “what the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Changmin?!”.
He doesn’t get it.
“...and he’s really bad.” Juyeon ends while smiling.
“I’m not that bad.” Changmin side eyes the taller one; also in search for some backup.
“Yes, you are silly.” His eyes crease in turn with the ends of his lips. From the right side, his hands come up to ruffle the sprout of Changmin’s head.
All three compiled the net up. You had no interest in bringing up the letter for either Changmin or Juyeon; therefore you rigid and pale served the first shot.
But thankful for Juyeon’s excitement and obliviousness (surprising) to the reunion he just set up; the tension wore off Changmin’s shoulder and your pigments returned.
All would rotate between the two sides of the net. You would purse lips to a thin line and turn the plastic of your shoes on the hard floor before running up to Changmin to show him how to serve. At first you stood a little less than a meter behind him; shoved gestures in the air to somehow manipulate his own body to do the same movements. But at last you went up to him, held his hand like gentle rain.
There was not a bruise or patterns of shades on his palms. Either he’s absolutely addicted to hand cream or those text books of his must enchant his skin while turning pages.
Changmin felt fragile like all ancient history when you showed him. He tried to be quiet, shyly only talking to Juyeon, but couldn’t help but let out shrieks every time he missed or won. It was just like board games at the dinner table when their parents whispered in the other room.
You suddenly shout, “Move!”
Juyeon’s on the opposite side of the two and forced the ball up to the roof with neck breaking power.
You see how Changmin doesn’t; instead glued to the floor with knees rigid and his hands come up in chest length as if it will save him. You desperately swing your shoulder to the right, but all actions are in vain when their foreheads collide. Force acts up on them and leads them to the ground. Swear it was visible stars circling both heads.
As the collision wears off and presence hits you as a second impact; terrified you watch Changmin between own two arms down the floor. Legs have his stomach tied to the flooring;
where in all directions you are. And when they both blushes of embarrassment; Changmin’s hands come a little higher up his chest.
“You’re supposed to chase the ball.” You stutter and hastily push up from him but miserably fails as the clothing material slips on the floor.
“I’m sorry-”
Changmin, just as terrified, apologizes while pushing himself off the floor. One way and two directions; they shut their eyes painfully as the point between their eyebrows hit each other again. One step further down his stomach.
“You didn’t even tell me we had started.” Changmin complains and holds his forehead, looking at Juyeon who climbs under the net.
You slide off him; knees supporting any weight while at the end of his calves. Great silence from the tunnel system in the high ceiling expands over the yellow walls. It scratches in their throats that you cough. It was enough to crack the tension layered like a glass dome.
“I don’t feel the same, Y/n.” Changmin sits up.
“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because you know what he means without asking. Fingers left racing the floor.
“Old story; you were not supposed to get it, I’m sorry.” Guiltily purse lips in, “Also, sorry for falling on you.”
Suddenly gentle, his legs come over in crisscross and he leans closer to your figure.
“Yeah…it’s fine.” He confirms in same tone, “Though, I appreciate it. The letter.”
He pauses.
“...I had no idea.” Changmin admits.
You laugh, “Really? I was super obvious.”
“You think so?” He skeptically smiles.
To bring your arms to an imaginable table and articulate, “I literally held my arms over the textbooks to lean over to you..”
“I just thought you were a bad listener.” Changmin smiles, bothered, like he always does.
They both laugh.
Another shine made by the sun outside draws with a ruler down the yellow wall. It has an angular cut in where it has a darker wooden frame just above the floor. Like the highlight is a window to the midsummers of one’s childhood; you dare to hold eyes open and watch.
They used to sit at the dining table where the pattern cloth folds at your knees. Because you were way too shy to invite him behind your room door. Sometimes, laughs loud enough for them to hear came from the living room where both their mom’s sat. Mostly they whispered; never understood why.
When they were younger, he was mostly intimidating. So much taller and just his glasses felt like a sign of great intelligence. But truly his personality held some sort of shine you believed was a leftover from some ancient spell along the yellow fields.
With their families having dinner sometimes; the two of them used to play board or card games late into the afternoon when the adults still sat along the dinner table. You didn’t want to invite your brother when you finally had time to talk to Changmin without it being about math, but he was way too nice to leave him out.
“Is your cat good?” Changmin asks suddenly, “Or is he dead?” He knits his eyebrows.
“Yeah, he’s dead.” Smiles and thinks of how Scuba Steve, in his orange white complexion used to jump into Changmin’s lap while he was tutoring. And when he talked to him so sweetly and petted him along the long fur; her teenage self used to dream about their future (delusion).
“It feels like he liked everyone more than me.” You admit while leaning into your palm.
“I’m sure he liked you too.” He laughs.
“Are you going to the beach party?” Changmin suddenly asks, “You’re close with Eric, right?” He knits his eyebrows, “Aren’t you together with Jaehyun too?”
“No, no, no, I’m not with Jaehyun.” You fall back to the floor and hands melt down your face.
“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You add, “But no, I’m not going.”
“Why not?”
Visions from the past weeks pass like a bad trailer and you close your eyes. Sunwoo and Eric run across the field in a sort of evangelical light and Hyunjae in the far corner.
You sort of lie, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to meet Eric.”
Changmin stands up, “I’m only going if you do.”
“Don’t do this.” You complain.
“No, whatever’s going on, we’re fixing it now.” He takes your shoulder and forces you up. You whine again and try to make the weight fall back to Earth.
“I’m fighting volleyball and you’re fighting Eric, great!” He cheers.
There was a lot more than Eric you had to fight this weekend.
The ball goes flying in their direction again. It lands on Changmin’s head and forces his glasses to the floor. They both look to the right and see Juyeon stand awkwardly upright, hands hanging like leaves as he longs for the ball.
“I missed.” He deadpan.
You take the ball and look at Changmin. He smiles knowingly before you both rush at Juyeon.
( friday, morning )
“Do you want some?”
Your head turns to the right where the sun shines through the glass brighter. It ceases through the back of his loose strands like the tree crowns from summer camp.
When you came down to the bus station, Changmin waved at you from a stack of backpacks piled like a mountain. Juyeon stood slightly behind and followed the shoerter’s movements. You asked them if they plan on moving with that; Changmin answered it was Juyeon’s and Eric’s bags. He had–while straightening his posture–just taken the necessary.
When all had arrived, you got a third row seat at the back beside Sunwoo. You had met again on campus. It turned out between all those words that both were going to the party this weekend. You mentioned how you’re mainly here as Changmin’s emotional support.
Sunwoo– a little horrified– told you he’ll have eyes in the back of his neck for this trip. Hyunjae, Eric or anyone else for that matter could come up from behind and throw hsi poor body in the water. With both in desperate situations, they jokingly built a pact to have each other’s back on this trip.
So when you sit beside Sunwoo, and look down the space created against the armrest where he reaches out a pink package. He shakes it and you smile before taking a hand off the backpack.
“You stole my pocky?”
Tearing away from that space; they look behind the red seat to see Eric leaned over the two. He pierces down at Sunwoo with a dumbfounded O of his lips and starts pointing at the roots of Sunwoo’s hair which he ducks away from.
“I didn’t steal it.” He defends.
“It’s mine, I bought it this morning.” Eric looks at you, begging for sympathy, “Now I have no snacks.”
“You said you weren’t going to eat them.” Sunwoo hides them.
“They’re mine!” Eric hangs down the seat. Immediately you take the edge of his sleeve as if he’ll fall on you.
“You’re gonna eat them now?” Sunwoo taunts, “Take the jelly grapes.” He throws out a plastic package from his bag while still chewing.
“Let’s split it.” Eric deadpans while holding out his palm.
“I’ll buy you one later.” Sunwoo repeat.
Eric laughs from above, “You literally just asked Y/n!” He points.
Sunwoo gets quiet for a second; looks up et Eric, before back at Y/n.
“Can’t you just eat the grapes?” He shakes the package up in Eric’s face.
Feet fall back to the floor, the row behind them and Eric, still dumbfounded, points at Sunwoo while stunned searches for assent in you.
“He’s shameless.” Eric sits down.
Where the dense complexes only ends when shore starts, the bus ride isn’t long. Despite constant traffic, conversations over the unconscious roaring of the bus engine; you resisted the falling weight of eyelids but at last, gave in. The last minutes when blue hues start to form between the windows and houses lined up against the sand. Head falls onto Sunwoo’s shoulder.
Changes surprises him, but just as immediately he gently falls back into his seat and your head comes between his neck like the last piece of a 100 puzzle. How could he describe the violent but gentle flutter that grows from a part in his chest and blooms into all directions. And when each stem leaves its youth and creates rosen petals at his fingertips; the playlist in his headphones changes song.
A melody of 80s slow paced rhythm and a voice soft like silk; lies over the muted woven chorals and yellow of the beach houses. Tiny flowers in perfect composition, like a trail across each street and when he sees the roof of the largest beach houses, just below the shore; Sunwoo wishes the bus would take one more round.
He dares to look down. He has seen this image before. All those movie nights in the dining room at summer camp evening. When he rushed to take the seat beside you before anyone else. And towards the end of the long hour you couldn’t keep your eyes open and leaned just like now, on his shoulder. It’s been so long but it doesn’t feel like a season has passed since that summer when he sees your hand lightly touching his own.
“You need sunscreen, Jaehyun!” You wave the blue plastic tube while slipping down the sand. Hyunjae looks over his shoulder, smirking questionably to her while you come closer.
“You’ll get skin cancer.” You squint when the blue sky shines behind him.
“You do it then.” He smiles.
Holding hands above your eyes, hoping it’ll cease all rosen blushes, “I’m not your mom.”
“Please, Y/n.” He shakes your forearms, pouting. At first your own hands come up to his chest to force him off, but retrites like touching a hot stove as he’s shirtless.
“Okay, okay.”
Overarching sand, up to the wooden porch, frees from the rest when they walk up. Hyunjae quickly takes the lead when he jumps up on fixed ground and takes a seat on the edge of the porch. How he wiggle his legs like an excited child while smiling so brightly; you didn’t know he could. You fall to knees behind him and awkwardly look over his hair.
“Can’t you just do it yourself?” Sun highlights his skin from above. The sharp points of his shoulders, down to his arms, seem soothing against the sharp sand. That specific smell of sunscreen, so deeply ingrained into summer, trace along the porch. Your palm hesitantly moves back and forth between the flexed spot of his shoulder.
“Just do it, Angel.” Hyunjae looks back at you encouragingly, but you quickly lie the cold sunscreen on his skin to divert him. In the clear summer sun spotlight, your cheeks luminates of struck pink.
“Ah, it’s cold.” Hyunjae’s shoulder rises up and you continue soothing it in one hand.
“Don’t complain.” You try to sound normal.
They got along more than you originally thought. Hesitant to calling people friends, but you guess that's what they are. Though, friends shouldn’t blush of nervousness from innocent touch, right? Especially when Hyunjae leans back further into your hand, and you wonder if it’s wrong.
At the same time; Eric peeks from the doors to the beach house. He tries to convince himself he’s longingly looking at the open shore, but it’s merely a background to Hyunjae and you.
It’s not that you’re lying, he thinks. You looked more than authentic that day, he asked if they were together and you denied. It’s not a competition, but still he feels a burn coming from another direction than the sun when your hands go to his neck and Hyunjae laughs from tickling.
“Y/n!”
You turn from Hyunjae and see Eric coming closer. All that in one motion, you forgot about the painfully obvious red of your face. It isn’t until Eric’s eyes widens and he falls in height to take your left cheek.
“You’ve burned yourself, Y/n.” Eric traces with his thumb the rose colors of your essence and to feel it coming off your skin, embarrassingly paint your soul. At this point, nervousness would leak out from your skin, but by Eric’s and Hyunjae’s wide eyes and open mouths; they’re completely oblivious to their work.
“N-” Stuttering out the beginning of a no; you stop suddenly as there’s no good excuse for the color.
“Let me help you.” Hyunjae reaches for the tube down the wood and you immediately try back from Eric’s gentle palms.
“No, no, no, it’s just heat.”
“Water.” Eric wants to get you on foot, take you to the kitchen.
“You need a cold bath.” Hyunjae says quickly after and without looking at Eric takes you in bridal style. Hand lets go of Eric’s and he’s left standing as you in panic tries to convince Hyunjae to turn away from shore. Hyunjae laughs while shouting that you’ll overheat.
It’s a dark seemingly normal, but guilty jealousy Eric watches the older one throw his best friend down the water. You’re quick on your feet again, and start chasing Hyunjae further down. Laughs come from that side while Eric tears his eyes off the new waves; clench his fist because frustration might visibly leak out his skin, and turn back to the house to take his mind off.
It was only a limited amount of sups, you shared one with Changmin. They had agreed to alt the paddle in interval, but it was you who ended up dragging them both along the surface while Chnagmin sat behind, criticizing the solo sups.
His victim was mainly Juyeon who traversed the first ocean layer for a good minute playing God until he lost balance. The entire group laughed while he tried to climb up. At the same time Sunwoo laughed so hard he was second to fall in.
Changmin did well, all things considered, when it was beach volleyball. Juyeon and you cheered on him. That brought him enough confidence to stand at the front. Which wasn’t his greatest moment as he fell head first into the net.
Sun’s, fleetly asleep above the horizon. All those hours of shine still left like a memory in the sand while four of them still play, the rest swimming, taken a seat with the group who grills or in the house. Laughter with the waves collide, creating a divide of foam. Breeze ensues their hearts.
It smells of garlic smoked marinade from behind once the ball comes over again. Though at first refusing to go, you’re still thankful for Changmin who desperately forced a game over either way.
Soon there’s food and you sit on the porch once again. Sunset like a filter over the shore and its houses, maybe the heart too.
“I have some for you.”
You look up at who you thought was Eric, with a brightly printed paper plate, gathered of the same choices since childhood. But you blink once, realize it’s Sunwoo. He takes the space beside where only vague music accompanied earlier.
“Oh, thank you, Sunwoo.” You smile and take the second plate.
“No worries.” He bends down to eat a bite of his own food.
A scenery in fleeting composition, scattered of dust passes through the peripheral.
“I remember you used to take food to me back then too.” Unconscious of the tender light you hold while tracing the oil leaking across plastic shine.
“Yeah,” He looks at his chicken, “Cause you were always busy sorting stones.”
You scoff, “Why? You’re judging my hobbies?”
“No,” He answer truthfully, “It was cute.”
“My stones?” You tilt.
“You.”
Sunwoo’s voice is monotone like it wasn’t supposed to blemish your heart like the orange and dark blue sky divide. The bones across your shoulders and hover over chest convulse in like wings of the delighting butterflies.
Sunwoo looks up from the food, “I don’t really remember how your stones looked.”
You smile and take a bite, “I guess that’s why I married you back then.”
Still confined between your own frame to prevent any sheer wings of escape; you miss how his ears perked up together with his horrible posture. Him in his sharp complexion becomes adorably curious.
“You remember that?” He says surprised.
“Of course.” She says as if it’s obvious. Sunwoo looks down at the sand as if to see the smitten reflection of his face in them.
“I actually didn’t think you’d remember.” He says quietly.
Another song on the playlist comes on and a group of people rush beside them. Jumping off the porch; their silhouettes darken in pink contrast as water evaporates on their burnt arms.
Sunwoo dares to look to your side; still eating and it further reminds him of times in circles when they sat next to each other. Something absurd with seeing you again like this. For some nameless reason you have lived all these years as a little girl in his memories, constantly visiting when summer’s approaching. Now you're here, finally at the same age.
He knows he shouldn’t advance, shouldn’t take a step closer on the porch. Since behind him just some meters further, Hyunjae sits. How adoringly he thinks of Hyunjae because he has you unconditionally by one side.
“I remember you told me about the stars.” You suddenly say.
Sunwoo looks at you then the skies, vaguely guilty that there's nothing's left to see yet.
He smiles, “Damn, I can’t see them, otherwise I would’ve told you about them again.”
You hold head tilted at his side while his eyes still squint for a light away to hit them, “You can show me later.”
You don't know what has crawled into you lately, but it’s dependent and has zero abstinence.
As if the hangover from last week wasn’t enough to convince you; you’re drunk once again (this time in the kitchen). Juyeon worriedly came over, asking if you’re always this bad with alcohol. In turn you took his shoulders dramatically and said no, shaking him.
And you weren't the only one. In the same vein, at another window by the house; Eric found Sunwoo staring dead into the reflection. When asked what he was doing, Sunwoo simply replied he’s staring at bird shit and laughing like it was the funniest thing.
Most people are still outside. Fairy lights might look like fireflies in this state as it cradles lightly from night weather. As people cross the sand it changes patterns. It lays a plastic cup further away which Eric runs to pick up. You don't know what song is playing when the high frame expands as walls in all directions, but you think it’s good.
“Can you dance?” You look at Sunwoo. He turns confusingly with bad posture from the bird shit. An awkward beat drop passage muffled by the walls takes the silence.
Suddenly you jump up to him in another rhythm than the beat. Smiles wholeheartedly while waving arms.
“I can’t.” You answer your own questions and do a spin.
Sunwoo’s hangs down its sides like towels over the branches. You reflect in highlights by his porcelain eyes. He must look extremely out of it as the pupils can’t concentrate on the shifting lights and his amused smile. But you couldn’t tell.
You force his tired arms up in an awkward rocking-back-and-forth swing. He laughs that his teeth show when you start complaining how he’s stiffer than the expensive couch behind them.
“Let’s tango.” You take his arms and they start circling around the room with either hand on their shoulders and next in each other’s clasp, straight forward. Sunwoo’s laugh overpowers the music as they nearly collide with the couch. Through the window frame they must look like a middle school couple.
And as if galactic alignment was truly divine; the next song on the playlist slows to a vintage soundtrack as if from an old romcom. They’re still laughing when the circles haste and all weight stills on the carpet lining.
They’re so drunk, Sunwoo can’t hold himself when your face comes so close.
“You know…” He starts.
“No.” You deadpan.
“Don’t speak.” Sunwoo complains and you fall one step backwards from laughing.
“You know, we’ve reached our 11th marriage anniversary.” He smiles drunkenly, “I think I deserve a kiss for surviving our long distance.”
“You haven’t even shown me the stars yet.” You whine and curl his hand in a weird way.
“I know, I know.” He screws his eyes, it looks like it hurts.
“Just give me a kiss and we’ll go outside.” He purses his lips out.
“Can you even name the constellations still?” You knit your eyes.
“Of course, there’s Little bear.” Sunwoo points at your nose. You contract your head and watch his finger tip with big eyes.
“I’m actually a Capricorn.”
Sunwoo’s lips curve harder as his head falls between the space created from their chests. You watch the root pattern of his hair before he comes up again.
“You’re really cute.” He smiles.
You can’t help clasp his hands and twine fingers even harder, “Really?”
He nods that his fringe follows.
“Am I cute too?” Sunwoo asks, leaning in.
You think, rolling your eyes slowly, “No.”
He pouts with big eyes.
“Again,” He flicks your nose lightly.
“Me or the flowers?” Sunwoo points at a vase beside the couch. You turn over your shoulder to see the arrangement of pink blemishes with white roots.
You pretend to think, “Hmm.”
There’s a anticipation like a butterfly on the last leaf, flickering its sheer patterned wings before taking off. Just like that, it pulses of thousand wings in both your hearts. All as Sunwoo lean in closer. Fingers laced through the other like silk and he pulls you closer by them. When the heat accumulated in the chests collide, with your lips merely touching his own. The tension weighs heavy, it might impend on the room.
The door from the kitchen beside them forces open.
Both Sunwoo and you loosen the lace and throw yourself onto the couch. A painful thud erupts from the back rest when Sunwoo crashes nape first. Your condition is in dangerous state, therefore you land about 10 centimeters too short and glide off the couch to the floor.
When the outer door closes and Eric passes by the frame, he sees Sunwoo decked out; arms hanging lifelessly and his mouth opened, supported by the backrest.
The cup in his hand nearly topples over when he rushes to stand it on any flat surface. It pulses through the floor when Eric comes down to you. A cold hand from all the ice soothes your forehead and you look up to see Eric’s fringe like a sheer curtain before his eyes.
“You’re okay?” He asks worriedly, “How much have you drunk?”
Eric takes your arm and scolds you gently. As you stand up you incoherently try to defend yourself, but quit abruptly as Sunwoo comes into the story.
Eric guided you up to the bedroom’s at second floor, leaving Sunwoo to die.
“Eric?” You lie down.
“Mm?” He flatten out the sheet above you.
“I forgot.”
Eric snorts, “Really?”
“Mm.” You insist.
Two essence divided between the mattress line in the mit; still staring at the same ceiling. Eric never leaves your side; instead insists on talking about nothing and everything while time wraps in a 4th dimension of one's mind until you can’t rhetorically answer “Mm?”.
Eric finally ceases to babble when shifting his head to your side. The pillows bud like a flower on his cheek when his body completely draws to your field. He knows you will probably feel like shit tomorrow morning, but for now you lie neatly above the creases like white flower of a heaven’s cross field.
The incredible magnetic field of your essence seems to draw in more admirers than just himself, Eric understands. He barely convinces himself that the letter is an eventual sign of their destined love, but just barely.
I can’t know who you dream about as you sleep soundly right now, he thinks while admiring. A face or two flashes before him and Eric sits up. Quietly look at the framed picture on the wall before back down at you.
For now, he’s in denial.
Eric takes one hand off your side to lay on your stomach. His bare fingertips dare to soothe out nothing’s on the cheek just to feel your warmth. He hesitates for a second, but before fully walking off the bed and closing the door; he bends down to kiss your cheek, just gently.
06 . CHAPTER SIX
( monday, midday )
The day has finally come–or not come as in an anticipated date set in stone from the past–rather Hyunjae woke up and felt courage. The last weeks they’ve seen each other nearly every afternoon, and for each time he imagines himself having persuaded you a little closer. And the last beach party seems to have been the silver lining for his confidence to finally confess how he feels.
This afternoon they will meet on the track field for some regular training, but what you don't know is that he will be asking you to be his girlfriend, seriously this time.
Though, between the lecture times, staring at strangers from the row tables; he consciously realized he doesn’t quite know what you like. Or of course, he knows you like astrology, biology, cat’s, exercising but just enough that you can walk guilt free home to the bed. That you always walk around with a first aid kit, and like a mother bandage burnt skin or wrecked ankles.
But none of that is of use when your heart is supposed to flutter at his mere sight this afternoon.
So at a table in the cafeteria; Hyunjae takes the opposite chair of a round table where Eric sits alone. Enticed in his own world; he jumps when the chair creaks of his weight.
Hyunjae figured it was just to ask Eric, your best friend for advice. The older may stand a ruler inferior in emotion to Eric than Juyeon, but nonetheless they have spent many house parties together, jumping off the high roof or throwing pillows at the third.
Eric always looks at him with a smile, nearly identical to his own. But right now, the red blisters' contours wave lower than what it usually does. His eyes adverts between the sad glass divide over the sandwiches and Hyunjae. But the older forces it in an identical manner to the left.
Eric nonchalantly told him he doesn’t know what you would romantically like from him. Hyunjae complained saying he should know since they’re best friends, but Eric reiterates his line, “Yeah, just friends.”
Hyunjae doesn’t cease from the chair, neither his voice. Eric looks at the sandwiches again and guilty bruises his fingers underneath the table. In Eric’s eyes; Hyunjae could win over anyone by just slowly articulate every crook of their name.
It’s not to admit that he’s threatened, Eric thinks. To rationalize the frustration he theorize Hyunjae hasn’t taken enough of a time to get to know you.
Eric’s never been evil. His moral compass holds him on the sane lane; even when emotions begs to pull the other way. But right now, while in silence, the magnetic field of the Earth pulls on the arrows.
“Okay.” Eric puts down the drink. Hyunjae leans in attentively.
“She wants a big, HUUGE confession. You know, those in rom coms where the guy comes out with a huge boombox and gives her flowers and has a big sign.” Eric takes his arms up in the, above his chest in height with his hair. To visually stun him he waves his hands down like confetti and shakes a hypothetical boombox. All while Hyunjae’s expression all visually gets more nervous.
“Okay.” He walks up without looking at Eric. Head deep down the floor as if thinking.
( monday, afternoon )
The white streaks wrapped as a present lining across the field is the same as every time he walks past. But even when the scenery is familiar to his conscious, the heart anxiously breathes in quick patterns. It causes invincible scratches at the inner side of his hands while his eyes can’t hold a scene for longer than a second. There’s a couple walking past the fields down the west campus; Hyunjae’s head follows them until their backs are a mere blemish along the sidewalk.
With his hand tightly knitted behind his back he looks at the grass growing up from under his shoes. Suddenly he looks up again.
Like the world just ended; the sun’s growing, tearing all the accessible and it rounds the golden halo. You’re just left in trance watching how it all beautifully collapses. That’s what your presence does to his troubled heart when your upper body comes up the staircase.
You wave with your free hand as you see him at the center of the rectangular land. Hyunjae doesn’t mirror it, instead refuses to change any position. You tilt your head in wonder for a moment, but nonetheless carry on towards his figure, until there’s just a meter across.
“Hi, Jaehyun.” You say gently.
“Hi, Y/n.” He shifts his head so that a part of hsi fringe falls forward.
You turn to see his side profile, as if he’s sick. With concerned woven shape of your face, you ask, “Are you okay?”
An awkward tenderness in his fronting psyche. To touch his shoulder might cause it to splinter in its frozen preserved state. Hyunjae clasps his hands that’s still behind; gaze your face as if though you were the first he’s ever seen.
Silence insists to frustratingly exist after your question.
When a scene of the entire world, flipped in your eye; he breathes in and falls with one to the grass. His hand trails as if cold to the pocket and takes out his phone, turning the speaker outlet in your higher direction.
“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Y/n?”
A bouquet in pastel silk tightly concealed in a ribbon of a darker shade.
“Hold on.” Hyunjae drops the mobile to the ground; the music practically disappears as it swallows by the grass.
All eyes on the thin space of his front pocket as he struggles to let loose the bits of red paper. At last some gather in his palm and he throws it up in the air as enthusiastically one can without a canon. The flowers now fully extended as the last bits of craft paper adorn his head.
A sore spot on his left knee aches under this weight. The teeth of his smile, slowly together as he bear witness to your expression, blinking cause your lips are opened but stunned. Though he can’t read good or horrible. As he starts tilting from instability he clenches the flowers tightly.
“I didn’t find a boombox, and the party store was closed.” Hyunjae looks behind you instead of up. Embarrassingly wonder if you would have wanted a grand confession in the college cafeteria. He won’t say it, but in all honesty he didn’t have the guts for that.
It feels like you’ve seen this scene before; in some movie lost to time, you’re sure it has crossed you once. The sad petals taken by the wind, fallen on his shoulders or thread beneath your feet. But still might be the most soft of all thousand interactions of your life.
Hyunjae seems embarrassed, you can’t fully tell; he looks at you from passages but sways towards the right at the end. How the past and present crashes at once to see him fully and clearly without cover. He’s such a vision that this should flutter all the lonely parts in the arch marrow body, but nothing goes off.
It’s like standing on the fourth of may, but no fireworks light up.
You finally smile gently, still eyes on Hyunjae. His expression waits for even a whisper, but instead a hand crosses between the fragile space. Yours takes his wrists, behind where the fingers cross the stems. Gently tugging him up from the grass as the last bits of paper rock down his shoulders.
“It’s really lovely, Jaehyun.” You smile and he’s finally up.
The space opens again.
“But I can’t.” You look at him as both lips synchronize withers.
“I’m sorry.”
A heavy wind brushes past; lies a weight on your hearts. Hyunjae, who has never once been the one pushed away, hears lone footsteps echo in the boned structure. It’s a bit embarrassing, it’s a bit sad; he feels like he maybe shouldn’t have said anything.
You see in full vision how his mind travels elsewhere. Still with flowers and the barely audible mobile that now has changed track to a mellow love song of 80s nostalgia. How depressing everything suddenly became.
“I still like you, Jaehyun,” You break the silence, “You were honestly a lot nicer than I originally thought.”
He looks up.
You smile weakly, “When I saw you on campus I thought you flirted with every woman and acted all big.” You gesture with your shoulders and Hyunjae laughs slightly.
“But you’re actually very kind.”
He reaches out the flowers once again. You look up at him with eyes, x-ed expression.
“It’s still your flowers, I want you to have them.” He says gently.
You hesitate but he shakes them in front of you. Once loosen on the tensioned shoulders; you take one hand out for the stems and look at them closely. Deeply pink with faded inner circles.
( wednesday, afternoon )
That table at the cafeteria where they always meet has been occupied two days in a row. You come by between classes and yearn through the window, but at last; there’s always a shirt in a color Eric wouldn’t wear sitting in his place.
At the changing distance through the evening, at the lone table beside your bed; all those papers in painful yellow highlight, tire sore eyes and vision yearns for the computer at the other side. Watch the letter box they communicate through everyday, but is now quiet.
You’ve messaged Sunwoo through facebook; asked him why Eric ceased from Earth. He answered through digital letters that he’s busy, but truthfully Sunwoo knows better than anyone Eric scatters to avoid you. Eric won’t fully admit why; the closest to a confession Sunwoo got was a bleak understanding of inner guilt over something.
“You’re sad.”
You turn to the left where Juyeon sits with curious eyes before the library shelves. Side by side at the communal computers; he has watched you stare at the search page for four minutes without intervention.
“Do you want to go and see the cats?” He asks gently.
You sink down on the table. Hands curl up at the keyboard while the wooden surface catches your chin.
“No, but thank you, Juyeon.” You say tired.
“Is it Eric?” He asks, leaning down.
You nod.
“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m afraid we won’t be friends anymore.” You pause, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”
“You should tell him that.” Changmin peaks from behind the computer, opposite you and Juyeon.
“Honesty is always valued.”
“You know, whatever it is..” Juyeon speaks from the right side, “at least having it said will lift the weight off. You have an assignment next week, right?” Juyeon points at the screen.
“Eric would make fun of you for worrying about boys instead of studying.”
You smile weakly.
07 . FINAL CHAPTER
( saturday, evening )
Edges of sharp stone scratches against your old bicycle. Those few streetlights with meters in between emits across the gravel. On the path from your old house, it was quiet like it always is in family neighbourhoods. But as you come closer to Eric’s old house; ruptures in form of music and laughter leak out the open windows.
You had to stay longer in the library working. Time passed like it never does when one’s bored, and suddenly you had missed the first train and waited for the other. It isn’t too far out your old neighbourhood, just a few stations that with each passing minute gets dimmer and dimmer because of lack of lining lamps.
Running the last passage to your front door to take the bike, and now you’re standing at his post. The same sign that hangs on the door, rusted of all year’s weather, intimidates you serenely.
At last, with one foot you force down the supporting metal where all other bikes stand. Close eyes on the handle while the laughter is still muted.
It has never felt so hard knocking on his door.
The blurred window at the roof of the door; you stare at it when finally knocking. Anticipation hugs your knees painfully as you take a step back. Look at all places except the white door. Drag your hands along the clothing fabrics as if it’ll obscure you.
Speakers frees from the door while you feel like running towards the woods.
“Welcome in!”
You don't recognize the man holding this door you’ve walked through since five. His expression contrasts your neutral one. There’s a red cup in his hand, he asks if you want some; you thank him, but reject.
As you come in line with each other through the hallway with mountains of shoes, you look at his back, insecure, before speaking.
“Do you know where Eric is?”
He turns, “Hmm..” Scratching his nape and leaning toward the opening frames of all the different rooms.
“I think he’s in the living room?” The guy points further into the apartment, you thank him.
Despite all open windows and meters of space; the air is horribly suffocating. People sit two and two, talk in five’s, and a path like pattern goes through the crowd. You let it take you, hoping it somehow brings you to Eric.
Your feet, that still have shoes on, cease to motion diagonally towards a large couch group. Between all those mere strange faces you’ve may seen once; a face so deeply dissected and remade sits in between. He’s at the center like the sun itself, and people gravitate towards him.
Somehow you would go back to your corner, sink down quietly. But you’ve been running for too long. Hand behind your back, wrists rope tied while your conscious threats to slaughter from behind, push you forward.
“Eric?” You say above the laughter, and his couch group turns towards you.
You swallow when his expression changes to something calmly unreadable, “I need to talk to you.”
A filter falls like a sheer cover of snow when he closes the door. They’re alone behind the house, blue illumination like an upside down universe highlights you from below. Neither Eric or you had said something, but it wasn’t noticeable until the world ran out of sound too.
Eric’s silhouette leaves your side and sits by the edge of the pool. With his barefoots into the galactic mirror, his face shades and colors like the moon. You too walk to the edge, sit by his side and see his legs make waves throughout the water.
He’s unfamiliarly quiet; similar to when you know something someone else doesn’t.
“I think I like someone, Eric.” You say gently without wasting.
He looks at you, soft and tender, “You do?” He smiles.
You smile too and nod.
His feet make water soar before becoming whole again. Your fingers tear at the concrete lining the pool.
“...and I’m not sure he likes me back…therefore it can’t be you.”
Heavy silence like the Universe itself weighs over them. World’s full of life, yet there’s an empty echo in the marrow arch of your cathedral body.
Eric gazes at the transparent surface of the water, smiling weakly because it’s the only thing right to do.
“Though, I still love you, Eric.” You lean towards his shoulder. Tear his side profile like you beg it is not the last time you see it.
“So much as you can possibly love someone, and a little more.”
He looks up, fringe falling, “It’s okay, I know.”
Voice fragile, so heartbreaking against the smile that could light up the entirety of the solar system. He’s like the pool beneath, a galactic universe tightly compacted into a pond.
His mere existence makes your eyes glisten and words frail, “I’m sorry.” You whisper.
He smiles and takes your wrist, “Why are you saying sorry, princess.”
They both sit there for a moment. The constellations pass a centimeter above the bended celestial before you walk up. Half disappear behind the wall while Eric is left at the pool edge. You can’t bring yourself to leave; having one eye on his back as if it'll fall when you go.
Eric looks back to your wall suddenly, like he knows.
“I’m sorry.” You say it again, nails exhaustingly tearing at the house.
Eric shakes his head, waving you off gently before speaking quietly, “Go get your prince.”
Stones shatter beneath the weight of two tires. All houses are drowned in nightshade glistens of warm lighted windows like the stars above, that is childhood.
Grass divided into squares lined with fences; streamline, down the gravel path until it opens up in a wide circle. You know this place because here’s where everyone always met.
All those gravel paths, identical to the one you just left maze down to a grass circle. The very heart of all these houses, a meter lower than the rest. You pass the path contouring it and all these strokes of green nature hinders you down. You stop with one foot off the pedal and lean your weight while standing up.
Where all distance creates a perfect cross; a boy much familiar to you lies. His own bicycle stranded a meter or two from his still body. Laying on his back with his head tilted on its forearms. Sunwoo’s completely still like midnight around him. It calms you just how water drains from head down after sunshine, but heart tears at its veins.
You found him.
To let go of the bicycle; forcing down the metal to leave it standing. Eventually you walk towards him, slowly as if you’ll scare him away.
About three meters from his feet; Sunwoo suddenly looks away from the star fields and up to you.
“Oh, hi Y/n.” He says like he always does.
You cease to stop, “Hi, Sunwoo.”
He can’t quite place why you’re here. You seem to come up in unexpected moments; take him by heart like a sudden season though he’s been admiring the trees for an eternity. It begins with your hair; how it seemingly floods down on your shoulders. Just like the jewel reflection like glitter under your eyes .
“You’re crying?”
You’re taken back by his question; taking a hand to the cold skin beneath your vision. Liquid dried tight to your complexion.
“It’s a long story,” You stutter; head turns to the ground before your expression becomes decrepit, but poetical.
“I’ll tell you later.”
After silence, you sigh; lending a bit of your worry to Earth. All the heavy mountains, all heavy oceans.
You start, “I have something to tell you.”
Grass stands in between his fingers when they lie flat against the ground. Sunwoo forces himself up while observing your expression. You neither walk closer or further; chin falling in patterns as pupils pierce onto the sight behind him or the grass beneath his feet. Only in mere passages eye contact lasts.
You open your mouth to speak, but realize you have a bad habit of coating everything in a thin layer of sugar as if feeding your words to a child. But there’s a certain bitter aftertaste in being honest.
“I love you, Sunwoo.” The words free from a deep part within. Tears off the inner skin and momentarily aches the body cathedral. He doesn’t say anything. Sitting in place, whether it’s of shock or horror, one can’t tell. To expand the details of his expression, but there’s always two possibilities to his wide eyes and space between lips. Hurriedly you continue.
“I really like you Sunwoo, I’m sorry.” You look down to the left, “I just needed to say it.” You open your arms, not like a hug, rather an impediment.
“So do what you want, Sunwoo.” You breathe in heavily while searching for the world reflected in his window.
“Just break my heart if that’s what you have to, please, just–”
“I love you too.”
“...do–what?” Your arms fall to their sides and the pupil without dimensions expands across the pearl, reaching the far edge of its colorization.
“I love you too.” He stutters more this time.
Every cosmic mass bulging on your shoulders and tearing your back convulses from behind. It like everything eventually does; changes form and frees for the roof without limit. It has compressed your lungs into tiny pulses, you didn’t even notice. Yet the milky way’s worth of celestial bodies frees from you; only eyelids show movement.
You breathe heavily while looking at Sunwoo with parted lips. He looks just as cosmically affected as you.
“But aren’t you together with Jaehyun?” He suddenly says.
You’re quiet for a second before bursting out in laughter.
“No…no.” You take your hands up before your chest and smile “You’re still there?”
Sunwoo’s still crossed brow of confusion. Neither laughing nor speaking.
“I was his fake girlfriend for the parties, but we’re not like that.”
You pause.
“We could never be like that…” You hold your arms behind your back, titling your head when a star aligns with his position.
“Not when you exist.”
He admires you deeply in the same way, one layer below. Knees have come up to his chin and he hugs them slightly while hypnotized following the last season’s breeze across your face.
You’re not sure what is supposed to happen now. But truthfully, you could live adoring the opposite like this for an eternity longer.
Though, Sunwoo has other plans.
The surface of his shoes bend down the grass as he stands. The last meters dying to collapse cease from existence; all before you even lift your head from your shoulder. Just as your eyes widen he’s against you gently. Sheer touch of his fingers across your lower face before he tilts. At last you touch and love-soul bitten sensations fill two hearts.
You look at him again after the kiss; his face so beautiful you believe he could overthrow the world.
© littleroaes, written and all
a/ n : i kind of broke my own heart by writing reader and juyeon just being friends 😭 it took all my will power
love spectrum spoiler
have flirty/ cute dynamic in the beginning but becomes friends : juyeon, changmin
romantic storylines but do not end up with : eric, hyunjae
end game : sunwoo
tagging : @darcymariebraun-blog @sungbeam @tbzhub @sanaxo-o
#deoboyznet#dbn: love letter#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz fluff#the boyz angst#hyunjae imagines#juyeon imagines#ji changmin imagines#sunwoo imagines#eric sohn imagines#tbz fluff#the boyz x reader#the boyz fanfic#hyunjae#tbz hyunjae#juyeon#tbz juyeon#tbz q#ji changmin#kim sunwoo#tbz sunwoo#tbz eric#eric sohn
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
🧡 Liquid Luck Never Have I Ever Challenge 2024 | Rules & Information 🧡
We are back with another round of the Liquid Luck Never Have I Ever Challenge! 🧡
We had our first round of Never Haver I Ever back in 2022, and works created for that round can be found here.
This July we have a challenge that is all about challenging yourself to do something you have never done before. This is a Liquid Luck Drabble & Art Challenge event, and anyone is welcome to join!
Here’s how it works :
- The goal is to challenge yourself to do something you have never done before. For example, write for a pairing you’ve not written for before, or use a character you’ve not used before. Perhaps use a trope you’re not familiar with? Maybe you’ve always wanted to try to write Harry Potter poetry, but never done it before? Or you’ve never made a moodboard before? Let this challenge be the motivation to give it a try!
- There will be eight different challenges. This challenge list is meant as inspiration, and you can give any of them (or all of them) a go. But if you’ve been wanting to try something else out for a while and haven’t done so yet, feel free to use the Never Have I Ever challenge to finally give it a go!
- There will be eight new prompts that you can use as inspiration. As this is a Liquid Luck Drabble & Art Challenge event, you will have to use at least one of our prompts in your work. You can use one of these eight new prompts, or you can use one of our previous prompts. Part 1 | Part 2
The schedule :
13 June : Challenges & Prompts are released
1 July : The AO3 Collection opens to Liquid Luck Never Have I Ever works
31 July : The AO3 Collection closes to Liquid Luck Never Have I Ever works
Every four days - starting on the 1st of July - I will post a reminder of one of the challenges and prompts. But challenges can be done at any time of the month, as long as your work is completed by the 31st of July.
Just a few simple rules & guidelines for this challenge :
- For your work to be accepted for this challenge it will have to include two things : Something you have not done / written / created before + A Liquid Luck Drabble & Art Challenge prompt. This can either be one of the eight new prompts, or one of our previous prompts. Part 1 | Part 2
- Both fics and art are welcome for this challenge. There is no minimum or maximum word count, and all forms of art (moodboard, drawing, fan video etc.) are welcome.
- This is a Harry Potter challenge, and all pairings are allowed, as long as they include at least one character from the book / movie. This includes Rare Pairs, Next Gen, Cross Gen and characters from connected canon such as Cursed Child and Fantastic Beasts.
- All works posted to the AO3 Collection will be shared to the Tumblr page. Please give it up to 48 hours for me to share your work to Tumblr. If it hasn’t been shared after that time, there’s a chance I have missed it. Then feel free to send me a message to remind me to share it. The AO3 Collection will be the same as the one for the Liquid Luck Drabble & Art Challenge, but works for this event will only be accepted between the 1st of July and the 31st of July. After that, the challenge is over and the AO3 Collection is only open to Liquid Luck Drabble & Art Challenge works again.
- Drabbles / fics will be shared with a post with information and a link to your work. If you create art for the challenge and you tag the page, I will reblog your art, but as tagging doesn’t always work, please send me a message if your art hasn’t been reblogged after 48 hours.
- Works for this challenge have to be new. Older works that fit the prompt will not be accepted into the AO3 collection or shared to the Tumblr page.
- All pairings, ratings and genres are allowed, but please make sure to add the correct tags, and please post a warning if your work is NSFW, or if it contains upsetting themes or possible triggers.
- Prompts for the Liquid Luck Never Have I Ever Challenge may be combined with prompts for other challenges, but please make sure to check with the mods for those other challenges / fests as well!
- A masterlist of all the works created for this challenge will be shared on this Tumblr page after the challenge has ended.
🧡
#liquidluckneverhaveieverchallenge#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fest#hp fest#hp fests#writing challenge#drabble challenge#rules post
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
There's a new competition at the Darrowby Show. Diana likes what she sees…
Written for the prompt Darrowby Show @acgasfanchallenge
#acgasfanchallenge#acgas 2020#all creatures great and small#siegfried x audrey#diana x gerald#fluff#silliness#never written the first fic for a pairing before#im sure it will take off hahaaha
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
In other news, while I was on holiday castling the king passed 50k hits and is nearly at 1000 subscriptions…which is utterly insane. Writing has never been about the stats for me but seeing those milestones is just so humbling, thanks to anyone who has given this fic a chance!! 🥹 I’m so excited to get back to writing it as we gear up for the endgame of the story.
A year ago I hadn’t even posted the first chapter and I was just getting deep into fleshing out the possibility of writing a Robb lives AU (even though it was something I toyed with since I started writing) and now it’s turned into this huge project that I love with my whole heart.
Again, thank you all, seeing your support makes my day!!
#jonsa#robbaery#fic#mine#feeling a little sappy this morning as i logged onto my ao3 for the first time in weeks and saw that it was over 50k hits!#just utterly crazy to be writing fic for a show that ended 3 years ago and to get that kind of traction#for a pair i’d never written for before with robbaery! and of course jonsa but still :)#you all make me so happy 🥹💕
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
“heatwaves”
pairing: alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader
summary: when a work trip takes you to japan, the last thing you expect is a heatwave... and some guy with blue eyes?
content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, a/b/o dynamics, no established relationship, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with a/b/o), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, marking, spit, praise, swearing, pet names (baby/sweetheart/princess), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, knotting, reader gets picked up, reader is american, reader is unaware of their omega status, reader experiences their first heat, reader and satoru “bond” without having a fully conscious conversation, reader and satoru are early twenties.
a/n: it's here! somebody spay me.
by popular demand i have written alpha!gojo for you all… just a classic reader goes into an accidental heat at work and (x) character happens to be the nearest alpha LMAO. this is entirely uncreative, but i love it for that!!! straight smut with a little plot if you squint hard enough! i hope it lives up to your expectations. find my alpha!geto fic here and find the list of my 1k event fics here. enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!
credits: dividers by @cafekitsune.
wc: 5k
Nobody ever told you that Japan was so damn hot.
Hot was not what came to mind when you’d heard you’d be taking a trip to Tokyo. Temples? Sure. Mt. Fuji? Great. Hot? No fucking way.
But, here you were, boiling away under the sun on what you’d thought would be a fun little work trip. Instead, you were just suffering with every step, trying to listen to what Principal Yaga was saying and failing miserably.
“These are the sparring courts. No students right now, but they’ll start training within the hour.”
You rub at the back of your neck, cringing when your palm comes away coated with a thin layer of sweat. Gross.
You lift your eyes to the sky, wondering how much longer this was going to take. Your little trip to Japan was to organize an exchange program with Jujutsu Tech. Your students had been begging to take a trip to Tokyo, to where their cursed energy would be closer to the source and, consequently, stronger. You had to admit, it was a good idea. A few months spent training here in Japan would do them good. From the moment you’d set foot on Japanese soil, your power had thrummed faster in your veins than ever before.
Principal Yaga was giving you a tour of the grounds and had sealed your horrible fate when he’d decided to start outside. You barely heard a word the man said. New York was never this hot…
“Are you alright?” You blink, fanning your face as best you can. It provides no relief. God, it felt like the heat was penetrating your fucking bones…
When your eyes slide to Principal Yaga, you’re surprised to see that he looks genuinely concerned. “Y-yeah.” You blink again, shocked by your own stutter. Maybe you were coming down with something? “I’m fine, just not used to this kind of heat, I guess.” You fan your face again and clench your jaw when it still does nothing.
Yaga’s brows furrow and you see him glance around, like he’ll find said heat standing next to him. How was he wearing so many layers?
“How about we head inside and take a break, then? We can continue the tour… later.” You nearly fall to the ground and kiss his feet. Air conditioning is truly God's gift to man…
You smile and it’s all genuine. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”
Yaga nods, but you think his eyes linger on you for just a beat too long before he turns. He still looks confused… or maybe flustered? That only leaves you confused.
You follow after him, each step feeling like you’re sinking deep into cement. You tug at the collar of your shirt, trying to get some ventilation. When you finally reach the building you nearly sigh with relief. Air conditioning… that’ll be good. Just what you need. A few minutes inside and you’ll be good to go. You’ll just have to remember not to wear so many damn layers again when you continue the tour.
You’re smiling as you step inside, so ready for relief that you’re practically shaking– but relief never comes. Your brows furrow. You brush your arm through the air. It… doesn’t help. It’s strange– you can feel the coolness of the air conditioning, feel it gliding up and across your skin, but the heat doesn’t subside, doesn’t so much as lessen.
“I trust you know how to find anything you might–” Yaga clears his throat. “Need?”
Your brows furrow. He’d shown you all the school’s resources last night and your room was already stocked with food, toiletries, and every other thing you could possibly need. Of course you knew where everything was…
“Yes… Thank you.”
Yaga shifts so uncomfortably you think that maybe he’s about to pee his pants. “Right, well, you have my contact information. Let me know if I can be of assistance in connecting you to any… resources.”
You’re more confused now than you were at the start of this conversation. “Right…”
“Take care.”
Yaga shoots you one last– worried?- glance and stalks down the hall. You’re left wondering what the hell is happening in his mind and why he seemed so desperate to offer you resources?
You blink, clearing your mind as best you can, but some sort of fog seems to be settling over your consciousness. Definitely coming down with something, you think.
You make your way through the halls, steps still feeling suspiciously heavy and heat still radiating off your body. A cold shower. That’ll help. Or so you thought. The further you walk, the more each hallway starts to look like the next. Was it left or right next? Was this hallway always a dead end? Since when was there a bathroom there?
You’re leaning against the wall now, panting. Something is pooling in your gut, something warm and far too intense. Your inner thighs are wet, too. You want to convince yourself it’s sweat, but… you’re horny. More horny than you’ve ever been in your whole damn life. You think you might die if you don’t get some dick in the next ten minutes. What the fuck?
You slide yourself into the next room you see: an empty classroom. Thank fucking god. You grab the back of a chair, hands shaking with how hard you’re gripping the wood. You take a deep breath. You need to get a hold of yourself, need to figure out what the fuck is happening to you.
You swallow and try your best to think. It’s not without difficulty. Your head feels like somebody’s filled it with glue. It takes a minute for a coherent thought to come through, but when it does, you think it’s a good one. Doctor.
Yes– you don’t feel well, so obviously a doctor is the correct choice, right? You scramble for your phone in your back pocket but freeze when the brush of your own hand against your ass sends a jolt up your spine. What the fuck is wrong with you?
Carefully, you extract your phone from your pocket, but it’s too difficult to even remember your fucking passcode. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the overwhelming ache that’s forming between your legs. Something is definitely wrong.
You fumble with your phone, but your hands are shaking so hard it just tumbles to the floor.
“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck?”
“Yo, who’s baking cookies in here without me?”
Your head snaps up and, with some difficulty, your eyes settle on a… man. You suck in a breath. He’s… dazzling. He’s wearing all black, but it’s not a student uniform. One of the teachers that you’ve yet to meet, then. White hair and pale skin contrasts against his clothes, but his eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses set low on his nose. Even in your delirious state you still have the wherewithal to wonder who the fuck wears sunglasses inside.
You get a quick look at him before a wave of intense- fuck, desire?- washes over you. You tremble again and shock yourself when a whimper tumbles from your lips.
“Oh, shit,” you hear him say. You glance at him from the corner of your eye and watch him inhale again– deeply. His lips part. “Oh, shit.”
You clench your jaw and tighten your grip on your chair. Your legs are shaking now– you can barely stand. You squeak pitifully.
The second the sound leaves your throat you hear footsteps– rapid, hurried, concerned, ones. Warm hands clasp your waist and you cry out at the touch, electricity sparking on your skin.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He turns you gently to face him, hands steadying your swaying body. “Who the fuck left you alone in here?” His hand is rubbing soothing circles on your lower back now and you think you’ve never felt something so good in your life. It’s so good that you almost miss what he said. Almost.
“W-What?” You see his brows furrow as you peek up at him. At this angle you can see under his sunglasses. His eyes are blue. Really fucking blue. You think he might be the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, even with the expression of… anger?- that he’s currently wearing.
“Whoever he is, I'll kill him.”
That makes you blink. An extra sliver of clarity opens in your brain. “What are you talking about?”
He tugs you a little closer, wrapping an arm fully around your waist and pressing you up against him. You try to ignore the fact that you love it, that you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and climb him like a fucking tree.
“What idiot leaves an omega going into heat?” He’s glaring at the doorway like he’s torn between staying here with you and running after said idiot to pommel him into the ground.
“‘M not an omega.” The words are out before you’ve even stopped to consider them. It’s true. You’re not an omega. You’re a beta. You’ve always been a beta. You’ve got the little “B” on your ID card to prove it. You were tested at birth, just like everyone else, and even if you really were an omega you would have presented years ago.
He only glances down at you and snorts. “Funny, sweetheart.” His hand is still rubbing those little circles into your back and it’s enough to make that fogginess in your mind grow a little thicker.
But your fear, your uncertainty outways your instinct. You pound a weak fist against his chest, not to push him away, but to get his attention. He’s still glaring at the doorway like he wants to murder it.
“‘M serious,” you gasp. “I’m a beta… I don’... know whas’ happenin’… to me.” Each word is a tremendous effort to form. Your tongue seems to have lost its ability to do anything but hang limply.
That gets his attention. He lifts a hand, gently brushing your hair back from your eyes and then cupping your jaw. “Is this your first heat?”
You find yourself leaning into his touch despite the fact that you’ve only known him for thirty seconds. Your eyelids flutter. “N-Not a heat… jus’ feel… sick.”
His brows furrow again, deeper this time, and he shakes his head. “How old are you?”
You know why he asks. Most omegas present around eighteen or nineteen. “Older than… nineteen…” You try to laugh, but it only comes out as a whimper.
That answer only serves to make him push closer. You feel his hand trailing down your neck, skimming gently over the skin until he reaches a spot you hadn't even realized was so… sore. You keen at the touch. Fuck, no. There was no way. You had swollen fucking scent glands.
You try to push away, but he pulls you in, burying his face in your neck. You shudder when he groans. “You smell like a damn bakery exploded,” he chuckles, and the sound is muffled by your skin. When he pulls away he makes it look like the action is physically painful. He cups your face again. “Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re an omega. If this is your first heat then…” he swallows and your eyes track the bob of his throat. “You’re just a late bloomer, baby.”
You shake your head desperately. It’s just the stupid heatwave. It’s just… hot outside… right?
You try to think about how this could be possible. It could be that the test you took as a baby was wrong… it happened sometimes. It was rare, but it happened. But if you were an omega, what would have triggered your presentation now? What had changed?
Your eyes widen. Japan. You’d set foot in fucking Japan. Ever since you’d gotten here, you’d felt power pulsing in your veins. Maybe it hadn’t been just power…
“N-no–”
A gentle thumb smooths over your cheek and you meet his eyes again. You shiver when you see a whole lot more black than blue. “You have no alpha?”
You whimper, leaning into him. Touch me, touch me, touch me, a part of you begs. You shake your head again and a tear slides down your cheek. “No,” you whisper.
Strong arms slide beneath your knees and you squeak when you’re suddenly suspended in the air. When you glance up he’s grinning triumphantly. “You have one now,” is all he says before he’s carrying you out of the classroom and twisting through the halls.
Warmth rushes over you at the sensation of being held, and something begs you to give into it, to give into the heat still washing over you, to the throbbing between your legs. You fight it and fight it hard.
“Where’re we going?” you ask, but your voice is sounding more and more like a whisper.
His eyes stay focused ahead, even as he presses a comforting kiss to the crown of your head. “Your room, sweetheart.”
Your brows scrunch. “How d’ you know where–”
“‘M following your scent, baby.”
He can do that? You bury your face in his neck, embarrassed, only to be hit by a different scent so delicious your mouth starts watering. You groan. Loudly. There’s a scent pouring from his neck that’s filling your head with memories of spices you can’t name, but suddenly know you love.
You think you hear him chuckle and then feel a gentle hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you. You snuggle deeper into him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and burying your fingers in his hair. Taste him, taste him, taste him your mind chants. It’s too good an offer to deny. You lick a stripe across his skin.
Your groans are instant. He’s squeezing you closer, leaning into your touch, and you’re pulling him closer. Your fingers curl into his jacket, tugging and tugging. You lick again and now he’s the one groaning.
“Damn, that feels good,” He sounds as surprised by that fact as you feel. The swaying of his steps comes to a sudden halt. You whine, missing the rocking of his body. “Think we’re here, princess. This it?” His hand is smoothing over your hair, slowly coaxing you away from the curve of his neck. You blink, not wanting to leave the paradise of his scent, but also feeling some overwhelming urge to please him.
Your eyes settle on a door and you recognize a little chip in the wood. You nod. “Mhm.”
You gasp when his hand grips your hip, wriggling through your pocket until he pulls out a little brass key.
“Perfect,” he says, and his voice sounds like he’s all too pleased with himself. He shimmies your key in the knob until the lock clicks and then you’re inside. The door slams shut loud enough to make you jump and squeak.
“Oops, sorry, baby. Guess I’m a little excited, heh.” His hand squeezes your hip soothingly and you mewl at the wave of heat that pulses through you. Your clit throbs almost painfully and you feel something gush onto your thighs. You whimper.
He inhales. “Oh, shit,” he breathes, and then you’re moving again. He navigates your room like he knows it. He probably does. From what you can tell, most of the rooms at Jujutsu Tech follow a standard layout. He weaves down a hall to the left and then into your bedroom on the right.
He lays you on the bed gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid you might break if he drops you so much as an inch. “There we go,” he breathes. You can’t deny that it feels good, that it feels right, to be lying on the softness of your mattress, but it’s not enough.
You claw at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him close. You want something from him, need something, but you can’t name what. You just know that the heat boiling beneath your skin can only be sated by him, that the throbbing between your legs can only be calmed by him. “P-Please,” you whimper. Tears well in your eyes. You need him so bad it physically hurts.
The smile he gives you is soft and genuine and it takes your breath away. He dips his head and you think you see him slide those sunglasses down his nose and toss them to the side. You don’t pay too close attention, though, because he’s kissing your neck again and your body is screaming with sensation.
“Aw, I know, baby. Don’ worry. ‘M gonna take care of you now. Jus’ relax.”
His words spark something in you– your last bit of consciousness. A brief moment of clarity shines through the fog of your mind and you remember what the hell is happening, what the hell you’re doing. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head desperately. No, no, no, this is not happening to you. There’s no way.
“Hey, now. None a’ that.” Fingers clasp your chin, holding you still. When you peek your eyes open, you see that he has in fact removed his sunglasses and that his eyes are more black pupil than dazzling blue. His jaw is clenched and his breathing is heavy. “Don’t try t’ fight it. Jus’ try to enjoy it…” His head dips and suddenly he’s nipping at your scent gland again.
You thrash and scream, but not in fear or pain. You’ve never felt something so good in your life. Every graze of his teeth feels like heaven. Your skin zings with electricity, sending pulses of pure need straight between your thighs.
You grab at him, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging him closer. Your chest is heaving when you speak. “Please, p-please-”
“Shhh…” You think you hear your shirt tearing, but you’re too focused on pulling him closer to care. His tongue licks a stripe up your throat and your eyes roll back.
You’re sure your shirt is off now. You can feel the cool air, but it does nothing to ease the heat raging inside you, pulsing and pumping through your veins.You feel him tugging at your pants, too, and you try to raise your hips. He only shushes you again. “Jus’ relax. Let me do the work, baby.”
Your pants are gone in seconds, even without your assistance. So is your bra and then your panties. He tries pulling away to undress himself, but you mewl and his eyes blow even blacker before he’s back over you again. He settles for popping the buttons straight off his shirt and shimmying out of his pants.
The sight of his bare skin makes you whimper and then you’re clawing at him again, dragging your fingers across his shoulders, over his chest, down his abs. It’s a greedy touch and one that he returns. His palms move along your body, kneading and squeezing at any flesh he can grab. It feels so good that you think you might pass out– but it’s still not enough. Something is still missing. You feel… empty.
His fingers trace across your stomach and it’s too late to realize what’s happening before he’s circling your clit. You jerk and jolt at the touch, but he presses his chest to yours, pinning you. The throbbing only worsens when his fingers settle into a rhythm.
Tears leak down your cheeks. It’s too overwhelming. You’re burning– burning from the inside out. The pulsing between your thighs is all-consuming with its intensity, with its-
“Need! N-Need–” you’re crying out, but you don’t even know what to ask for– don’t even know what you need.
“God, Fuck, I know, princess,” he groans. He licks a long stripe up your neck. “But ‘s your first heat. Gotta–” he has to pause to swallow. He’s panting, now, just as lost as you are, and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. “Gotta get you ready… go slow.”
You shake your head. Now, now, now is all you can think. You need him now. “No… please…” You bury your head in his neck and find that spot that’s pouring his spicy scent into the air. Your mouth waters and you lick him, letting your teeth graze his skin.
“Fuck!” He shivers atop you and you feel the pure strength restrained within his muscles. “Fuck- okay. Okay. Relax f’ me, princess.”
You try, you really do, but your body refuses to do anything but try to pull him closer. You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs, pressing them up, up, up until they’re pressed tightly to your chest and your feet are dangling on his shoulders. The position makes you whine, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.
“You on birth control, baby?”
Your brows furrow. It’s becoming harder and harder to focus on what he’s saying rather than simply the sound of his voice. Were you? You try to think, try to remember through the pit of glue that is your brain. No…
You shake your head. “N-No…”
There’s a slight pause, a beat of contemplation, and then he’s laughing. “Guess I’m bouta be a daddy then, heh.” He chuckles again and the sound rings through you with a wave of pure bliss. His lips brush your neck again, settling on your pulse and making you whine. “Don’t really mind as long as I get you.” Your head rolls back submissively, exposing your throat. Yes, yes, yes, your mind screams. There’s nothing you want more than that, you think.“Okay, here we go, baby.”
There’s hardly any more warning. One second you feel him shifting between your thighs and the next he’s pressing inside of you, feeding his cock in inch by inch. The stretch is… delicious. It burns, fuels that fire inside you, but it makes the heat feel more… pleasurable. Your back arches and your head rolls back submissively.
“Oh, fuck, princess.” His voice has gotten higher, more like a whine than anything else. When you gaze up at him you can see the flush in his cheeks, even through the fog in your mind. More, more, more your mind screams. Or maybe you say it aloud, because more is exactly what he gives you. The second you feel him tucked up against your cervix the second he begins to take you. He sets a pace that is somehow both brutal and gentle, with strokes that rattle your skull and also give you exactly what you need. His hands grip your hips, holding you still to take exactly what he wants to give. His head dips until he has his lips wrapped around your nipple, and his tongue is swirling so deliciously that you can’t help but drag your nails down his back.
Your body rocks with every thrust, teeth rattling and eyes rolling. The heat inside you grows… tighter, like it’s all pooling to your core, waiting for something you still can’t quite name.
“N-need…” You don’t know what you need, still. Only that you want to beg for it so badly it hurts.
His tongue slides away from your nipple, tracing a line up between the valley of your breasts, over your collarbone, before he finally settles on your pulse once again. The nick of his teeth makes something click in your mind. This is what you need. Bite me, bite me, bite. Claim me, claim me, claim me.
“Yes,” you breathe. Your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer, coaxing his teeth to sink in, to stake their claim. “Oh God, yes. Please.” You sound delirious, you think, but then so does he when he answers.
“Not yet, princess. Not yet.” His tongue darts out to lick across your neck again and you can only sob. Why not yet? Now, now, now…
Tightness coils in your muscles, the throb at your core reaching a breaking point. You feel something coming, something like an orgasm but yet also not. You know that when whatever is pooling inside you releases, you will shatter, and you’re not sure you’ll ever be put back together.
Your nails claw across his back hard enough to draw blood and the action forces out some sort of low grumble from his chest that makes you whimper and melt into the mattress. The tip of his nose draws a line up your throat. “Keep doin’ that, baby. Mark me up.”
You don’t dare deny him. You scratch at his skin, desperately trying to pull him closer. His thrusts grow faster and your thighs begin to tremble and shake on his shoulders, overwhelmed with the intensity of all you’re feeling. You pull at him, grab at him, thread your fingers through his hair.
Your body jolts with each thrust and you’re sure you’re going to burst any moment. But you can’t. Not yet. You still need something, something he hasn’t given you yet. He groans and the sound is so delicious that you feel it sliding over your skin and settling in your bones.
“M’ gonna knot you now, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna make you feel so good. Gonna take care ‘ve you.”
You whimper at his words. You hope they’re true. You don’t think you can take much more of the incessant gnawing of need in your gut.
“Please…” your voice is hardly more than a whisper. His breath is hot as it shakes against your neck. He’s licking and nipping at you ravenously, like he needs you just as badly, like he wants to claim you as badly as you want to be claimed.
His thrusts quicken even further and your jaw falls open, neck arching. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. Apparently, neither can he.
You feel it the moment he starts to swell inside you. It’s perfect, you think. It can’t get better than this– but then it does.
His teeth graze your throat again, this time a little harsher and with a little more intent. “Mine,” he whispers. The second he bites you everything goes blurry.
You’re experiencing… heaven. There is a rush of that electricity that buzzes under your skin. It bursts forth and you feel it reaching out, forming a link between the two of you that you know is now impenetrable. It pulses and burns and you can feel him, feel his pleasure, his desire, his need for you and only you– his need to make you his. You think your souls must be blending, merging, with how deep the connection runs. You think you know him, know everything you could possibly ever need to. You know he’s the one. You know he’s yours.
It’s perfect, the way it fulfills every desire you’ve ever had, the way he notches inside your cunt like that’s where he was made to be, the way his teeth clamp around your throat and bond you together forever.
You scream for him, you think, but you can’t tell through the complete and total haze of pleasure. Your walls spasm around him, milking him for every last drop, and you feel the heat of his cum coating your cervix. The heat at your center finally releases, bursting and flooding through you in a way that feels like pure bliss has been injected into your veins. Your thighs quake and tremble with the pure intensity of it all and white spots dot your vision.
His body is tense above you, shivering with the magnitude of what’s just happened. He’s groaning into your neck, your flesh still clamped between his teeth like he never wants to let go. You’re not sure you ever want him to.
Your breaths shake in and out, lungs heaving as you finally come down. His knot is still settled deep inside you and with the few strings of consciousness that slowly filter back into your mind you know that he’ll remain there for a while.
His teeth release from your neck with a squelch that you think you would be sickening in any other context, but only makes you whimper at the loss of contact. He only hums and finds your hand, twining your fingers together as he laps at the fresh bite on your throat. It feels… amazing. Not in the way it felt before, like he was licking pure lust straight onto your skin, but more like he’s giving you a comfort you have never known in your life. You feel safe in his arms, like nothing could ever hurt you here.
His lips press a final kiss to your throat before you feel him shifting. He gently rolls you both onto your sides, getting comfortable and pulling you to his chest while you both wait for the next wave of lust to hit you. It will, you know. Sooner rather than later, too. Your mind has cleared enough to realize what’s happening, what’s to come. You won’t be leaving this room, this bed, for quite some time.
A gentle hand brushes a sweaty lock of hair from your eyes before it settles on the nape of your neck, massaging the sore muscles there. You sigh and raise your gaze to find him already looking at you, an easy smile on his lips. He has dimples, you realize, and he’s… breathtaking. And now… he’s all yours.
There’s a beat of silence between you, a moment of reconciliation with what’s just happened between you, of what it means. You blink up at him, your lips parting to say something, anything, but instead your brows furrow in thought.
His smile drops instantly. He leans into you, thumb caressing your cheek. “What is it, sweetheart?”
Your mouth runs dry. You peek up at him from beneath your lashes. “What’s your name?”
taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000
link: alpha!geto
link: 1k followers event!
please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡
#bree’s fics#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#jujutsu gojo#satoru#gojo#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x y/n#jjk gojou#satoru gojou#gojou satoru#a/b/o#alpha gojo#alpha!gojo#a/b/o dynamics#omegaverse#jjk omegaverse#tw: a/b/o dynamics#tw: omegaverse
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
OH BABY!
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader
summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.
warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭
word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.
a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk - massive thank you to @motelofmermaids and @lust4lore for their help with reading and writing!!!
taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye
“and the female tribute for district four, y/n l/n.” your eye involuntarily twitched at your name being called. the people around you, distanced themselves from you as a path was carved to your own hell.
as you walked to the platform you kept your head down. you were actually hopeful that you’d get through this reaping, your last and then never see the inside of the arena. but of course fate was against you. as you stood in front of the people you couldn’t help the silent tears that fled down your face.
your mothers face was tired and drained, she had a feeling you’d get picked. mothers intuition? your father was pissed, his little girl, his sweetheart, being thrown into an arena to die? and worst of all, there wasn’t anything he could do.
you felt alone, as if no one could help you. and as you said goodbye to the life you knew, you could only pray for safety, and a quick death.
as you were escorted to the train you fiddled with your sweater sleeves. pulling them down, rolling them up, just to focus your mind on something. it was chilly, most likely the air conditioning on the train and sometimes you had to hold down your skirt.
finnick couldn’t take his eyes of you once he saw you on the train. you looked so tiny in the chair and he couldn’t help but smile.
he practically had you all to himself.
“y/n?” your head shot up at your name being called and you were met with finnick odair in all his glory. “finnick? finnick odair?” even calling his name you sounded so unsure, so he smiled and nodded.
“i’m your mentor, and i promise to try my best to get you to win.” he sat down in front of you, spreading his legs and you felt your face warm up. he found you adorable, with a cute white sweater and a short black skirt. you had your hair down with the front parts tied up with a bow. his own personal present.
your shy demeanour reminded him of your young age, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. you were looking everywhere but at him and he loved it.
“do… do you think i can win?” god no. the tributes would eat you up alive, but he’d try his best. “i do.” with just two words of encouragement, you smiled at him for the first time.
finnick wanted you to smile at him forever.
“are you hungry?” the rumbling of your stomach answered his question, as you ducked your head in your hands in embarrassment.
he moved your hands aside, tilting your chin up, "it's okay to be hungry sweetheart, come on." he held his hand out for you and he laughed at your hesitance. "i don't bite, not unless you want me to.” the last part of his sentence came out hushed and you averted your eyesight from him.
there were so many foods laid out before you, and it wasn’t as if you were poor, but god, it all looked nice. the eclairs took your attention away as you reached for one, your finger sweeping cream off the top before placing it in your mouth. it was sickeningly sugary but you had a sweet tooth, you retracted your finger with a pop! and you somehow didn’t hear finnicks groan.
how on earth were you not realising how dirty it seemed? and it was there finnick realised how pure you were, “its so good,” you flashed him a toothy grin, “you'll have some won't you finnick?" you offered it up to him with two hands and how could he resist? the two of you spent the rest of your time on the train eating and talking, finnick utilising his time to get to know you.
you’d spent a day getting settled and were now to get ready for your interview.
after being prepped and readied, you were shuffled into your dressing room where analise, damian and sarah awaited. a range of compliments were thrown your way.
“oh isn’t she adorable?”
“i could pinch her cheeks forever!”
“you are precious!”
they were so nice to you and you loved it, but you barely ever learned how to take compliments so you ended up just nodding your head. “she is gorgeous,” you snapped your head up to the doorway and there stood your mentor, in all his glory. his compliment felt heavier than the rest, like he truly meant it, and you looked down at your hands as you fought off the blush threatening to rise on your cheeks.
in an hour you’d been through a whirlwind of makeup, dresses and jewels. orange, blue, black and all, you loved each one but for some reason after the four of them discussed you’d always be taken out of it.
it wasn’t until you were placed in an off the shoulder, floor length, white dress that you remained in it. and as you looked in the mirror you couldn’t help but stare. your hair was pinned up again, and small flowers were placed throughout. you felt like a princess and finnick agreed. you hadn’t even noticed that your stylists were gone until you heard the door shut.
it was just you and finnick.
“you look incredible.” finnick whispered, he was behind you now. his hand had a mind of its own as it placed a stray hair behind your ear. you turned your head his way, “really?” your voice was so soft and doused in disbelief. if he wasn’t next to you he wouldn’t have heard you. his hand trailed along your neck as he placed your hair behind, he nodded. “i have something for you.”
he pulled out a small seashell, and your eyes lit up, “oh finnick.” you sighed as he placed it in your hands. “it reminded me of you, small, gorgeous.” you looked up at him with doe eyes and he felt like grabbing you and taking you away.
you were breathtaking and you looked at him as if he was god.
“thank you finn, do you mind maybe putting it in my hair?” he took the trinket and placed it above your ear, entangling in with your hair. your heels were on but untied so finnick got onto his knees before patting his knee. he grabbed the straps before tieing them. his fingertips worked quickly and his face was concentrated. he was done and he looked up at you before turning you to the mirror.
finnicks hands were on your shoulder as he leaned in to whisper, “all done, you look perfect sweetheart.” you turned before reaching up on your tiptoes, “thank you finnick!” you kissed him on his nose before turning back and finnick grinned, “aren’t you cute?” he stood behind you, attached like a shadow. your skin felt soft underneath his fingertips and he couldn’t help but wander. down your arms, to your waist, he could feel you tensing up underneath him and he could feel his face trying to fight off his smirk.
“finnick?” you breathed out, “what’re you doing?” your voice was small, and unsure. “tell me to stop.” you should. you should tell him to stop. but all you could think about was finnicks hands and how good they felt.
“it’s time!” damian shouted out as you peeled away from finnick to open the door. damian was all too happy to see you as he clapped his hands together. “ah, my special girl you are truly an angel.” finnick knew that. finnick has already said that. finnick had you in his arms and oh so close and this idiot took you away. his sweet girl.
finnick was wondering where his trident was so that he could impale him through the stomach.
“come on y/n.” he ushered you out the door but you managed to slip another look at finnick and all you saw was pure rage.
the interview went well, in your eyes at least.
caesar was as upbeat as usual and it did mostly centre around your dress and looks but you felt you could try your best to use it to your advantage.
the audience was enamoured and you felt you did your best. “and y/n, tell us, what’s your secret strategy for the games? any tricks up your sleeve?” you patted his knee before pointing at him jokingly, “well caesar, it wouldn’t be a secret if i divulged now would it?” everyone loved your answer and caesar doubled over, “aren’t you cheeky! isn’t our diamond here so playful? but a sweetheart nonetheless!” the crowd agreed loudly.
“now, since you came out i think we’ve all been wondering where that seashell came from. it doesn’t exactly match the theme of your outfit.” you could hear the murmurs from the crowd agreeing with his words.
“am i right in suspecting a certain blonde mentor of yours?” you pursed your lips and a giggle began to form as caesar pumped his fist in the air, “i think we got it! can we expect the two of you together once you win?” you’d never even had a boyfriend and here you were being put together with the finnick odair, you were sure everyone could tell how giddy you were.
you felt as if you had a million eyes on you, your whole body was heating up as you buried your head in your hands. “ah we caught her out! someone’s got a crush! but then again it’s finnick odair so don’t we all?” a bunch of cheers erupted as you beamed.
“well it was a wonderful to meet you, truly! our diamond here, y/n l/n!” screams and shouts directed your way came in full force as you waved at caesar and blew kisses to all. as you walked back you bumped into someone.
“y/n right?” the boy from three, theo.
you nodded and stuck your hand out, “nice to meet you!” he looked down at your hand and back up at you before laughing, “very formal, i like it. i’m theo, your dress is nice but i think the girl wearing it is breathtaking.” you giggled before tucking your hair behind your ear.
finnick stood with the other mentors and held himself back from shoving haymitch out the way to get him to stop rambling on. his grip on his glass was solid, so it wasn’t a surprise when it shattered. “oh my!” effie yelled out as finnick apologised before someone came to clean it up. he stepped around the person before excusing himself to get to you.
you were laughing, hard. what in panem was so funny?
you were wiping tears away from your eyes as finnick joined the two of you, his hand on your back as theo nodded at him, “finnick.” he hated him. why the hell did theo speak as if he knew him personally? his smug face was unbelievably irritating. “finnick! how’d i do?” and the second you spoke he felt the anger dissipate, he adored the way you waited for his response as if it held all the answers.
“you did well.” finnicks answer felt snippy and made you feel as if you’d done something wrong. “we should get going.” he directed you away from the boy as you shouted out, “i’ll see you around!”
the entire elevator ride was, to put it lightly, awkward. it left you feeling confined in what little space you and finnick had. “finn? are you okay?” you placed your hand on his arm and stood in-front of him. you were hoping he’d explain what was wrong but what you didn’t expect was to be pushed against the side of the elevator and finnick kissing you. his hand was on your waist again and he shuffled your dress up, slithering underneath.
you moaned in his mouth, his hands playing and gripping at your ass. in reaction, your fingers thread through his hair and your grip tightened, “finn- not here.” the elevator was glass and you were scared of people seeing. finnick found it hard to care, drunk off your perfume. in a panic, you pulled away from him, your hands cradling his face to make him listen. “i’ve… never,” the whisper hung over the both of you, the tension in the air thick and hot.
instead of being met with judgment, he murmured, “i’ll make it good for you, i promise.” finnick had finally gotten a taste, and he could only crave more. his lips met your neck, his warm tongue painting wet desire into your skin. it was almost too much for little old you, letting out quiet whimpers as he explored you. his sleeves were rolled and you needed to ground yourself, your nails dug into his veiny arms. “finn-” you protested but he could tell you didn’t want to. just a little longer and he could get you to give in. “just let me feel you.”
the elevator stopping brought the two of you back as you fixed your dress and finnick fixed his own hair, running his hands through it. he directed you out of the elevator and nodded in acknowledgment to the people entering. as you walked onto your floor you were met with servants, stylists and others. it seems damian and analise had taken it upon themselves to invite some friends and you were eager to meet them.
whereas finnick wanted to rip your dress off and take you till the morning.
the same dainty hands which were running all over him were shaking others and waving as you all sat down to eat. as everyone feasted away you couldn’t help but play with your own meal. you were flushed and all you wanted was to kiss finnick again. he was sitting next to you and wasn’t hungry for food, he wanted to eat something else.
your dress didn’t hide much of your chest and when you reclined in your seat, crossing your arms and pushing up your breasts?
finnick needed to see more.
the clattering of his fork on the floor drew the attention of some, but they went back to their conversations and bets. “i’ll get it for you.” you pushed back your seat and got down to your knees, flicking up the tables sheet and searched around for it before hitting cold metal. you reached your hand out with the fork to finnick. his cock was throbbing at the image of you on the floor, chest on display and a sweet smile on your face. he bent down and grinned, “you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
his words went straight down between your legs and your mouth fell open at his words.
such vulgar words from such a beautiful man.
his hand came down to close your jaw. you felt, weird. as you sat back on your chair you felt warm? but a good warm? it was tantalising. you wondered if it was normal.
finnick would tell you right?
“finnick.” his head turned your way, “what is it y/n?” you leaned closer and so did he, your hands cupped around his ear, “i feel weird.” his eyebrows shot up as a sign of interest, “oh? what’s wrong honey? where do you feel weird?” you gulped, your throat felt dry and for some reason it felt dirty to talk about.
your eyes drifted downwards and as you looked up finnicks eyes seemed darker. “here?” his touch was soft on your thigh underneath the table as you gasped.
“everything all right dear?” sarah questioned as you nodded. it felt so good, his touch. but it wasn’t exactly where needed, his hand trailed closer and higher, until it was gone. your head snapped up at him as he smirked at you, mocking you.
for the rest of the night he didn’t even pay attention to you. and you had no clue why.
you couldn’t sleep after the day you had and all your mind was thinking of was finnick. finnicks hands, his arms, his mouth, his words.
“i don’t bite, unless you want me to.”
“yes, here.”
“i’ll make it so good for you.”
“just let me feel you.”
“you look good on your knees sweetheart.”
your room was too quiet, making it unchallenging for your thoughts to run wild at the anticipation of finnick odair. you couldn’t bear it, so you left to the busiest room you could think of.
your leg was shaking up and down and your mind was pacing whilst your body couldn’t. the butterflies were practically knocking around in your stomach and you hoped perhaps finnick could help. he’d help you right? but he didn’t before. maybe he was just tired? you were so desperate for help and answers that you’d forgone knocking and walked right in.
only to be met with an extremely wet finnick odair.
by your luck your eyes were probably poking out of your head at the sight of him, you couldn’t help but stare. it was your first time being in the same room as a man so, naked? for the lack of a better word, he still had a very short towel wrapped around his bottom half. was it small? or did he make it look small?
“see something you like sweetie?” god his voice was so saccharine, how the hell did his voice work you up? “i- i wanted to t-talk.” and you were stuttering, great! he walked closer to you and you stepped back, all the way into his wall. “yeah? does my pretty girl wanna talk?” you nodded along dumbly as your breath quickened. “words sweetie, use your words.” you swallowed, “yes.”
his thumb caressed your cheek before brushing along your lips, “you sure you just want to talk?” and there they were, the butterflies. you shook your head, “no? what do you want?” you played with your night dress, “you?” it was a soft murmur and finnick wanted you to beg. he’d been pining after you since the second he saw you, it’s only fair right?
“where do you want me?” his words were hot in your ear, his body was wet and your white night dress was suddenly see through. his hand rested on your ass, “here?” you shook your head, “no?” his thumb brushed over your nipple as your nails pressed into his neck, pulling him into yours. your breath was heavy and he was unrelenting.
his hand moved from your ass to cup your front as you gasped, “here?” you nodding along dumbly, “please finnick, i’ve been wanting you for the whole day, i’ll be good for you i promise.” your words were music to his ears, “yeah? you’re gonna be good f’me?”
“yes, yes, yes.” you whined as you wrapped your arms around his neck. standing on your tiptoes as you bit your lip. “you gonna let me use you yeah? do whatever i want?” you were practically jumping up and down at this point, your tits with you. your straps were pushed down as your dress fell down to the floor. his cock was throbbing at the sight of you, he’d been waiting for this.
“then on your knees honey.” you were quick to obey as he pushed you down to the cold floor, his towel quickly ripped off, courtesy of you.
it was your first time doing anything sexual so any cock was bound to be big in your eyes. finnick loved the sight of you on your knees, innocent as ever. fully nude, hands slotted nicely between your thighs. he wanted to ruin you. he ran his hand along his dick, pumping it before resting the tip on your lips.
as if you were on auto-control, your lips parted to let him through. a salty taste flooded through your mouth as he cooed down at you.
“you’re doing so well for me.”
“pretty baby on her knees, who knew you’d be such a slut?”
your eyes flickered up at him as you moved your head forwards on your own accord. “fuck.” he groaned as you replaced his hands with yours.
he wanted to go easy on you.
but kitten licks at the tip and soft kisses weren’t doing it for him. you opened your mouth again, gaining confidence and feeding off of finnicks praises. his large hand placed on the back of your head, fingers spread out as he thrusted down your throat.
the sounds that filled his room were lewd. squelches and groans as you tried your best to keep going. your cheeks hollowed out as finnick guided you, “relax your throat, try breathe through your nose. if it’s too much just tap my thigh sweetie.”
you retracted, catching your breath as you gazed up at him whilst simultaneously blinking away the tears in your eyes but a few fell free. he couldn’t help but moan. your messy mouth mixed with your saliva and his pre-cum. “you think theo’s this big? you think he could make you choke on his dick?” you shook your head immediately.
his member felt cold without the warmth of your mouth, but he was feeling nice so he let you take a break. “too big for you sweetie?” you shook your head furiously, “naw is my baby tough?” you giggled as you wrapped your lips around him again, your tongue flat against the underside of his dick as he eased himself in. “ah- fuck.”
but he can only hold out for so long as he began to fasten his pace, chasing his high. your fingers dug into his thighs right under his ass, for some reason you seemed to have something to prove as you took him all the way. your moans egged him on as his hips thrust forwards, “so good f’me, my s-sweet girl.” his praises fueled you on as your nose met his naval. salty tears fell down your cheeks and finnick was in his right mind to lick them all up.
god you were better than he’d imagined. and trust him, he’d imagined a lot.
“swallow for me yeah? be a good girl and open wide.” thick cum coated your tongue as you gladly accepted. finnick proudly gazed upon your painted face. watery eyes, sticky face. all for him. you gulped it down before wiping off the remaining waste on your face, eyeing finnick up before licking it off your fingers.
“what happened to the diamond? only a whore for me right?” your fingers were wet as you pulled them out. “uh-huh.” your agreed as he pulled you up. “do you even know what that means?” he teased as you puckered your lips before shaking your head. “thought so, you wanna be good for me?” you nodded, “on the bed baby.”
you sat down on the bed as you waited for finnick to join you. he situated himself between your legs, running his hands along them. “lean back for me. you took me so well, you want me to make you feel good too?” your eyes widened at the idea, “yes please finn.” his hands reached up and rested under your breasts, “i don’t know if you’ve earned it honey.” your lips twisted into a slight frown, your waterline glazing over.
“i was! i did what you asked finn, please.”
he palmed your breast, massaging it softly as you threw your head back, “please. please keep going.” your begging was more than enough for him, his baby asked so nicely no?
“yeah? you like me playing with you?” incoherent babbles fell from your lips as finnicks mouth kissed your breast. his hand trailed down to feel you, and he was met with warm wetness. the moan you let out was ungodly, “finnick please! oh god it feels so- so good.” he couldn’t help admire you, eyes screwed shut, hands clutching the pristine white sheets.
“oh baby, can you be quiet for me? quiet for finn?” a string of ‘uh-huhs’ came from your mouth as finnick slid a finger into you, a tight fit. “oh my god!” you yelped before slamming your hand over your mouth. he was knuckle deep as he worked his finger in before curling it, then another, then another. his free hand was pushing your hips down into the mattress as your hips lifted upwards with every move he made.
“finnick, finnick. you feel so good.” you cried out as he retracted his fingers before curling them upwards. he knew exactly what to do, where to be, what to say. his name fell from your lips like a prayer and your nails raked down his back as he grunted.
now, finnicks fingers were one thing, but his mouth?
his tongue pressed against your clit and you swear you saw god, finnick was probably the god. his tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers entered your cunt again, the pressure in your stomach was building so high you were afraid of the fall.
a wave of pleasure fell over you as finnick talked you through it, “that’s it baby, let go.” he hovered over you as his fingers worked your cunt. your nails had bloodied his back, scratched raw. as you moved your fingers finnick hissed into your ear. “m’ sorry, m’ so so sorry.” your head was spinning and you wanted to rest, but apparently finnick had other ideas as he lowered himself to your core. your mind was hazy as your hand clutched the pillow your head laid on, the other twisted in his hair.
“what’re you doing?” finnicks green eyes pierced through you as he raised his head from in between your thighs. featherlight kisses trailed upwards to your pussy as your thighs twitched and closed around his head, still sensitive as ever. “just want a taste, clean you up.” he mumbled as he tongue breached your entrance and you were back where you were before.
this man was driven youd give him that.
“finn s’ too much, please.” your words were slurred as he delved inside. he couldn’t find it in himself to let up, you were so sweet, he just wanted a taste. so he kept going, his tongue, his hands, his words. if there was one thing you knew about finnick it was that he could talk anyone into anything. so you found yourself squirming underneath his strong arms, forearm pinning you down to the bed as he made your back arch and your toes curl.
“sweet baby, so sweet.” all attempts of getting away, only caused him to get annoyed with you, can’t you just lay down and let him ruin you? at this point it was for his pleasure rather than yours. your thighs were practically squeezing his head and neck but he kept going. you didn’t know where to put your hands, pulling his hair was no good. your hand somehow ended up on your clit, moving in a circular motion as the other palmed your breast.
each time he made you come you rested your head, energy depleted. but again he ended up between your legs and pathetic pleas from you did nothing to make him stop.
“wanna make you feel good.”
“just one more, you can take it sweetheart.”
when your fourth rolled around you were so far gone. “pretty baby, not a single thought up there huh?” you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond, and he didn’t expect you to. he brushed away the stray hairs from your face and kissed you passionately. “you did so well f’me honey. made me proud, you got one more in you for me?” it wasn’t a question, his dick was painfully hard and he only knew of one solution.
you tiredly shook your head, “no more finny.” he grinned, “no? you don’t want my cock?” your breath hitched at his words and you knew you were fucked. “mhm. want it.” you were reduced to one to two words in a sentence.
“yeah you do. on your knees baby.” you tiredly rolled over, situating yourself on your knees and the palms of your hands as finnick kneaded your ass. his hands grazed over the skin before-
smack!
“think you should be able to see yourself baby.” his hand yanked at your hair as you found your reflection glaring back at you. “so pretty, aren’t you?” finnick knew you were horrible at accepting compliments and he was more than happy to use it against you.
smack!
you’d taken too long to answer, but based on finnicks smug expression you could tell he was hoping for it. “you have to answer baby.” finnicks arm came across your waist, pulling you up, flush with his chest as his hands pawed at your chest.
“you wanna be my baby yeah?” you could only manage moans and finnick was not happy. he threw you forwards as you caught yourself with your hands infront of you.
smack!
“fucked you so good you can’t even talk.” he taunted you as he dragged his cock in between your drenched folds. finnicks groans were deep, and so hot. “you know how long i wanted to fuck you baby? in that short skirt on the train? when you licked up that cream? my girls dirty huh?” you didn’t respond and it only fuelled his fire, he’d wanted you for so long and now you had the audacity to ignore him?
he thrusted into you without warning and you screamed out. “want to act like a slut? i’ll treat you like one. fuck!” your walls were squeezing down on him, sucking him in and he was more than happy to oblige. his hips snapped against your ass as you gripped onto the sheets for dear life. his grip on your hips bruised, leaving a fiery impression in their wake. finnick had stamina for days, he was strong and built. you were small and fragile, finnick was glad to be the one to break you in.
he pulled you up to him again as he kissed you frantically, capturing your bottom lip in between his teeth. he was relentless in his pursuit for his high, he marked up any place he could as he continued to drive into you with determination.
“bet you dreamed of this, of me.” his hand gripped your throat, his eyes bore into your own, finnick was inescapable. every touch, every thrust, all him. you were enveloped in his being and he worshipped yours. finnick continued to pound into you harshly, cock gliding easily against your inner walls. he was deep inside but he wanted to be deeper. “yes! yes! harder!” you cried out.
his hand pressed down onto your stomach, “feel that?” his breath was prominent by your ear, “oh god!” you exclaimed, it felt as if you were filled to the brim as he bottomed out in you. thick, hot cum released into you as his and your moans were raising in pitch and his hips began to stutter.
the room was filled with the sound of slapping skin, the promise of silence forgotten. “let go baby, you’re close. let go.” the two of you had eachother and it was more than enough. his groans were deep and animalistic as he spilled himself inside you. your hand reached behind you to caress his neck. thank yous spilled out from you, your whole being was ignited, you never knew you could feel so good.
the two of you lied together, entangled in sheets and a mess of limbs. you couldn’t tell where finnick odair began and y/n l/n started. all you knew was that he was yours, and you were his.
you’d fallen asleep a bit ago, your chest rising and falling steadily. finnicks arm curled around you as you rested on his chest. from the moonlight spilling into his room he could view the bruises tattering your smooth skin. as he traced over them he couldn’t help but grin, he could imagine you limping in the arena.
you sure as hell weren’t forgetting him anytime soon.
#dark!finnick odair x fem!reader#dark!finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x fem!reader#hunger games x reader#finnick odair x female reader#finnick odair x you#finnick x reader#finnick imagine#finnick odair smut#finnick odair x reader
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 | art donaldson
summary ― .ﾟ ˖ art is your tennis coach, but after he tells you to "loosen up" a bit, you're not sure if your boundaries are strictly professional anymore.
warnings ― .ﾟ ˖ MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), soft!dom!art, sub!reader, sexual tension, art gives reader a massage, praise kink, p in v sex, fingering, if i missed anything, please let me know!
word count ― .ﾟ ˖ 3.2k +
pairing ― .ﾟ ˖ standford!art donaldson x fem!stanford!reader
author’s note ― .ﾟ ˖ saw challengers the other day .... its all i can think about rn so i made a fic! hope u enjoy! also i know nothing about physical therapy so if this makes no sense I'm sorry
publishing date ― .ﾟ ˖ may 5th, 2024 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY
tags ― .ﾟ ˖ @madnessandobsession @hashtagtobefuckinghonest @mitskilover23
A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as your feet carried you quickly across the tennis court, your eyes refusing to leave the bright yellow ball that was coming towards you from the opposite side of the net.
"Keep your eye on the ball, sweetheart!" Art barked, a few blonde strands of his hair falling in his eyes as he watched you simply miss the ball once again.
The nickname caught you off guard, dismantling your focus and causing you to falter your movements. Your arm swung out far enough, but your racket was just below the ball, allowing it to fly right over it and hit the concrete behind you. A tinge of pain seared through your right shoulder, making you wince.
"Shit!" You grumbled in annoyance, your eyes refusing to meet Art's since you knew he would scold you for your miss.
You threw the racket in your hand down at your feet, irritated that you hadn't kept the ball going back and forth between you and Art for more than 2 times in your last 5 tries.
Your mind was somewhere else; normally you were a beast on the court, dominating your competition (all thanks to Art). Today, not so much.
"What was that, the 6th time?" Art scoffed, waving his racket about in the air. "What's wrong with your shoulder?" he pointed his racket in your direction, a look of concern written on his face.
You didn't answer him, walking off the court over to the bench and grabbing your water bottle. He followed you, taking the bottle from your hand when you were done and squirting the liquid into his mouth. Your eyes watched him carefully, following the water droplets as a few fell from the corner of his mouth.
"You're tense, I can see it all over you when you're moving around out there," he said, motioning to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes caught the way his polo clung to his toned chest, sweat starting to seep through from his constant movement.
"I'm fine," you told him, shrugging his words off. "Just a little distracted, is all."
A lopsided grin cracked across his face, not buying your excuses.
"Come here," he motioned for you to move towards him, which you hesitantly responded to before walking to him. Carefully, his hands grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, your back meeting his front harsher than you had expected.
Your heartbeat quickly picked up, the feeling of his hands on your bare shoulders felt hot and heavy on your skin.
This wasn't the first time Art has caught you off guard like this. You had noticed over the past few months how touchy he could be, whether he was correcting your form or bidding you good job after a match with a rub on the back.
And no matter how much you denied it, you couldn't help but love every second of it. Despite being your coach, he had an effect on you that no one else did. He drove you wild, but of course, he never realized that.
At least, you thought he didn't.
"Your shoulders are very tight, especially your right one. That's why you're not getting a lot of movement," he spoke softly in your ear, his fingers running up the sides of your arms before finally gripping your shoulders. His fingers squeezed your flesh gently, burning against your skin enough to make you let out a sigh he undoubtedly heard.
"You need to loosen up a little bit, sweetheart. All this stress is messing you up, and we can't have that." his voice was smooth and sultry, a total contrast to what it had been only moments before on the court.
His fingers kneaded at the muscles at the top of your back, working out all of the kinks and knots that inhabited your shoulders. Your eyes quickly fell shut as you leaned into his touch, getting lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
"Ah," you breathed out, the feeling of his thumb reaching a spot that unraveled the tension in your right shoulder. "Right there."
You couldn't see it, but a wide smile bloomed across his face at your words, his thumb moving to massage the muscle deeper than before. You let out a breath groan, which (as much as he hated to admit it) indubitably went straight to his lower half.
He didn't expect you to be so responsive to his touch. It surprised him, but that didn't mean he was opposed to it.
"Yeah?" He breathed. "Does that feel better?"
He knew exactly what he was doing, even though you were so oblivious to his shenanigans.
"Yes," you groaned, allowing your head to fall back slightly. You breathed in deeply as he continued his work at your muscles, watching you revel in the relief at the top of your back.
To anyone else, his actions only looked like a coach helping his player work out an injury. But to you and Art, this was months of tension finally boiling over. The way his hands worked across your skin, the pleasurable sighs you let out. It was the two of you crossing a boundary you had never expected to abandon.
"Art!" a voice sounded from the opposite side of the court, making your eyes snap open. His hands stopped their movements, but he didn't remove them from your shoulders as he looked over his shoulder at whoever was trying to get his attention.
It was Mike, the Athletic Director at Stanford.
"Mike," he stated, greeting him with a nod. His voice almost sounded disappointed, not appreciating that he had interrupted the two of you. "What can I do you for?"
His hands finally left your shoulders, your skin feeling dull and light from their wake. You quickly snapped yourself back to reality, brushing away the hot feeling in your chest as you watched the exchange between Art and Mike.
"I just have some paperwork for you to fill out for the semester," he said, "Won't take long."
You watched Art's expression lighten, giving him a slight nod before agreeing to meet him in his office and Mike dismissing himself from the court.
Your gaze met Art's as he turned back to grab his gym bag off the bench and slung it over his shoulder. You watched him carefully, before taking your own bag off the bench.
"Put some ice on that shoulder," he pointed to your right side as he slipped his Ray Bans onto his face to shield his eyes from the sun. "I'll come check on it later, okay?"
You nodded, your mind already racing at the thought. You watched him as he walked away from your view, a feeling of excitement and confusion bubbling in your chest.
You didn't see him again until after lunch. You had been wandering around your small apartment in nothing but a tank top and pajama shorts (due to the blistering California heat outside) with a bag of ice taped around your shoulder, trying to keep your mind occupied until Art arrived.
Your afternoon classes had been canceled so you decided to take it easy at home, trying to keep your arm relaxed as much as possible.
When you heard a simple knock at your door, the feeling from earlier that morning had returned, rising in your chest and making your neck hot at the thought of him. He stood nonchalantly at your door when you swung it open, greeting him with a warm smile.
"Hey," you said, moving out of the way to let him in. He sent you a small smile back, following you into your tiny living room.
"How's the shoulder?" he rasped, taking a look at the ice pack on your arm that was starting to leak.
"Pretty good, hasn't really changed much. Still a little sore, though." you told him honestly, still confused as to why you had tweaked it so bad.
"Mind if I take a look at it?" he asked, gently running his hand up the side of your arm. The sensation sent chills down your spine as you nodded simply. He had to stop doing that or else you were going to go crazy.
"Here, sit down between my legs with your back towards me," he motioned to the couch, sitting behind you before moving to remove the athletic tape from the ice pack. You could feel his warmth behind you, his breath hot against your shoulder as he peered at your injury.
Your breath hitched as you felt his finger hook under the right strap of your tank top, your head turning slightly to catch his eye.
"Do you mind if I move this down?" he asked gently, eager to make sure you were okay with him touching you like this. You nodded, a little quicker than you had anticipated.
"Yeah, that's fine," you breathed, before turning back around. Carefully, he pulled the strap down, exposing your bare shoulder to him. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his calloused hands against your smooth skin, his fingers slowly beginning to knead at your muscles.
"I feel a lot of tension here still," he told you, his hand gently moving to raise your arm up slightly over your head. You felt a pop in your joints, an instant feeling of relief washing through your shoulder. A breathy moan escaped your lips at the movement, grateful that it felt better already.
"Shit," you breathed, thankful for his skillful hands. "That feels good."
Art let out a breathy laugh, making your heart swell. "Lean back against me, I want to try something."
You followed his instructions, your back meeting his toned chest, sinking into his embrace. The smell of his cologne invaded your senses, making you sigh.
Carefully, he wrapped his arm around your collarbone, his left hand laying flat against the front of your shoulder while his right hand gripped the back of your bicep where your arm met your shoulder.
His hands were slow and gentle but still had you unwinding more with each movement. His left hand gently pushed your shoulder back as his right pushed your arm forward, earning another pop in your joints.
"Oh my god," you groaned under your breath, your hand subconsciously moving to grip his muscular forearm without realizing it.
"That's it, sweetheart," he cooed in your ear as you let out a sigh of relief. "Does that feel better?"
'So much better," you told him honestly, still holding onto his arm. Your eyes quickly fell down to it, an idea circling in your mind before your hand slowly began to move. He watched you carefully, his eyes following your freshly manicured hand moved to settle over his, before carefully moving his hand down your chest.
"But I think I'm still a little tense, Art," you breathed, biting your lip as his fingers ghosted over your hardened nipple before you moved it down further to your abdomen. His mind finally caught on to what you were trying to get at, a sly smirk cracking across his face.
"Could you help me?" you whispered, settling his hand on your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you wanted him most.
He didn't respond, his hand simply moving from underneath yours and allowing his fingers to slip underneath the waistband of your skimpy shorts, your breath hitching. He moved his free hand from your arm and down to your thigh, gently spreading them apart.
You felt him exhale a deep breath, before finally answering your request. "Of course. Anything to help my star player."
His fingers broke the barrier of your panties just as the words left his mouth, dipping into your soaked core without warning. You let out a moan as his lips pressed gentle kisses to your bare shoulder before moving up your neck and settling just below your ear.
His middle and ring fingers played at your clit, rubbing it gently before dipping back into you, curling his fingers inside of you sweetly.
A moan sounded from your plump lips, your head falling back on his shoulder. Your hand gripped his bicep as he continued to give you what you wanted, writhing in pleasure at his movements.
You could feel his hard-on press into your back as you sunk into his embrace, turning you on even more.
"How does that feel, baby?" he rasped, kissing your temple as he could feel you beginning to unravel on his fingers. "Is this what you wanted?"
You whimpered, biting your lip as you nodded your head. "Yes!"
As his fingers moved quickly inside of you, you felt his free hand wrap around your torso before moving up to your chest, his fingers ghosting over your hardened nipple.
"Please, Art," you whimpered, so close to your high. He took your words as a sign to keep going and allowed his fingers to fondle your breast, which sent you over the edge.
"Fuck, I'm-" you whined, your words caught dead in your throat as your orgasm washed over you, a defeated moan sounding from your chest.
He was mesmerized as he watched you, the way your head kicked back against his chest and you gripped his thigh as you came down from your climax. The pure ecstasy was seeping from you, and it drove him wild that he brought you to this state.
Carefully, he removed his fingers from your soaked core, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them clean. Your head snapped around to watch him, going feral at the way he reveled at the taste of you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him.
Your hands cupped the sides of his head, your fingers running through his blonde locks of hair. His eyes fell on your wet, plump lips before he smashed his own against them without warning.
A whine of approval sounded from the back of your throat, your body quickly crawling into his lap, straddling him as you sunk deeper into the kiss. His hands ran up the sides of your thighs before settling on the flesh of your ass, squeezing it as he held your core down against his hard-on.
His lips finally pulled away from yours, both of you out of breath as you met each other's gaze once again. He was quick to attack your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses all over your skin as he rocked your hips over his erection for any sort of release he could get.
Your fingers tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a low groan to sound from his chest, which went straight to your core. You were growing impatient, pulling away from him in order to tug your tank top over your head. His eyes fell to your bare chest, a look of pure lust haunting them.
You quickly stood up from his lap to remove your shorts along with your underwear, giving him the opportunity to rid himself of his clothes as well. Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head as his hard-on slapped against his lower stomach once he pulled his boxers off, his tip reddened and already leaking with precum.
"Come here, baby," he said soothingly, his hands pulling you back into his lap once more, your bare chest flush with his. Your faces were inches apart, your lips parted as you watched him reach between your bodies and grasp his cock, slowly giving it a few pumps before he aligned himself with your core.
You raised your hips a little, hovering over him to allow him to guide himself into you, a deep moan ripping from your chest when you finally sank down on him.
"Fuck," he groaned, the feeling of your wet core overriding his senses. You stretched around him so sweetly, taking him so well he couldn't help but moan.
Your hands settled comfortably on his shoulders, using them to help stabilize yourself as you began to rock your hips into a steady motion. You couldn't help but bite your lip, unable to keep your moans from falling out of your mouth.
He filled you to the brim, reaching a part of you deep inside that had never fully been satisfied. It made you ecstatic; you couldn't get enough of him.
"Fuck me, Art," you moaned, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck. "Fuck me hard."
He let out a shaky breath at your bluntness but obeyed you nonetheless. His hands gripped your hips roughly before he began a steady pace of fucking up into you, making you reel your head back in pleasure.
"Look at you, taking me so well," he moaned in between whimpers of pleasure, gripping your hips harder as he quickened his thrusts. You were a blubbering mess at this point, your head falling to the crook of his shoulder to muffle your cries.
His arm wrapped around your torso to keep you steady, his free hand moving to rake through your hair and pull your head back up to meet his gaze. He watched you intently as tears formed in your eyes, your orgasm not too far away.
"So pretty," he cooed, cupping your face. "All for me, right?"
"I'm yours, Art," you whimpered, clawing at his bicep as you felt yourself tipping over the edge. "All yours. Fuck, I'm close!"
Your moans were like music to his ears, sounding so melodic as your eyes fluttered shut in lust. With a few quick final thrusts, your second orgasm washed over you, making you writhe with pleasure as a nearly pornographic moan ripped from your chest.
He gripped your hips as he stilled his movements, his eyes intently watching you as your face contorted with your climax. He nearly came at the sight, letting out a shaky moan as you slumped back against him, completely fucked out.
"Fuck," you breathed, looking up at him as he panted heavily, a lazy smile on his face.
Suddenly, you remembered he hadn't come yet, and your body was already sliding off of him and sinking to your knees between his legs before you could even think otherwise.
"Wait, no you don't have to-" he assured you as he sat up, but you were already shushing him and taking him into your hand, gently pumping him as you gripped his thigh for leverage.
His eyes were blown out with lust as he watched you jerk him off, relaxing into your touch as a whimper escaped his throat. You looked so sexy sitting in between his legs, so eager to help him reach his climax. It didn't take long before he was letting out a guttural groan and painting your chest with his release.
His chest heaved up and down as he pulled himself back together, taking in your appearance before him. He never wanted to forget you like this; your face flushed and dewey with sweat from the orgasm he had just given you.
"Sorry, baby," he breathed, sitting up to grab your tank top and wipe you clean with it. You sent him a small smile, thankful for the gesture before you got back on the couch next to him and curled into his side. He grabbed the blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch and laid it over the two of you, trying to make you as comfortable as possible.
The sudden realization that you had just fucked your tennis coach began to seep into your brain as you felt the warmth of his skin on yours, goosebumps running down your spine at the thought.
Fuck, this was going to make for an interesting practice tomorrow. . .
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
buried alive | S.R.
in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#penelope garcia#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid x you#h writes (hypothetically)
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
omfg i love your fics they’re so funny 😭😭 i had an idea for a max fic that i think you would do so well 🫶 so like she’s his teammate and she has a bf (no idea who but prob another athlete or something since they tend to kinda be fboys 👀 but not another driver please because those dynamics make me cringe in second hand embarrassment 🙏) then he like cheats on her publicly, but she decides to live in idgafistan and max helps her make her ex jealous 😝 but he’s like actually been into her for a really long time and everyone ships them and stuff and then he bags her with his irresistible chronically offline awkward white boy rizz 💋
summary; cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life
pairing; max verstappen x fem! red bull driver! reader [ no faceclaim ]
warnings; suggestive language, swearing
a/n; DISCLAIMER the boyfriend is made up and also a sims 2 reference, if by chance there is a real tennis player by the name of Dominic Lothario im so sorry sir this was not written with you in mind ALSO this is my VERY sneaky way of telling everyone my favorite song is trophäe by paula carolina so naturally i had to shove the word trophy everywhere to justify using lyrics as the title I HOPE I DID YOUR PROMPT JUSTICE also i skipped over singapore because we don't talk about singapore
liked by ynln7, charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 2,104,962 others
maxverstappen1 The only time I've cheated.
view all 798,301 comments
feeltheorange WHAT DID HE SAYYYY
meepshoemaker the double take i just did cracked my neck
yukinator22 NAHHHHHHHHH
albogeant BRO DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER TIME TO RECOVER LMAOOOOOOOO
ynln7 everyone has permission to laugh i came up with the caption
pierregasly Thank god
charles_leclerc I'm going to hell I laughed before I saw your comment
pierregasly Me too
ynln7 assholes (affectionately)
liked by christianhorner, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 4,592,577 others
ynln7 anyway
view all 909,289 comments
christianhorner This is not the team bonding I was talking about
charles_leclerc Shut up, some of us have waited years for this
pierregasly Seconded
danielricciardo Third...ed?
simplyclerc LET HIM COOK
lionkingseb max verstapprizz
mcmango he saw an opportunity and he took it
redbullpapaya i manifested this with magic beyond the human comprehension
liked by maxverstappen1, ynln7, christianhorner and 2,102,094 others
redbullracing An immaculate performance today from @ maxvestappen1 and @ ynln7 that’s a 6th Constructors’ Championship for the team!! 🏆 CONGRATULATIONS, WORLD CHAMPIONS!!
view all 869,291 comments
super_max they know they ate
staraikkonen the blueprint for all powercouples
shadownorris LET'S FUCKING GOOOOO
angelricciardo talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference
dominic_lothario 👎
redbullracing Shouldn't you be looking for a job? What are you doing in our comments.
kirbyvettel MAXY/N SWEEP
maxverstappen1 The trophy is not my only win this week @ ynln7
ynln7 ok now let me pass you
maxverstappen1 No 🧡 You're pretty in p2
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 693,420 others
ynln7 celebrating the win the RIGHT way (playing f1 2023)
view all 108,003 comments
easportsf1 Amen
ynln7 LMAO
maxverstappen1 I let you win
ynln7 bruised ego alert
christianhorner Such a RESPONSIBLE team, aren't we?
orangleclerc THE T-SHIRT
strawberryrosberg Did they turn down the afterparty invite for this because mad respect
charles_leclerc Tell me your record, I'll beat it
ynln7 in your dreams, leclerc
maxverstappen1 Beat us in real life first
charles_leclerc First of all.
pic credits: instagram and pinterest
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#instagram au#social media au#max verstappen au
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Try Again Pt.1
Pairing: Ex!Lewis Hamilton x reader
Warnings: None
A/N: inspired by a comment from @forevercaffeinated-lee on silence about a typo that actually inspired me to write a full fic!
Pt.2
———————————————————————
INSTAGRAM
lewishamilton
liked by virgilvandijk selenagomez and 6,008,921 others
lewishamilton best you’ll ever have
load comments…
user1 oh no…
user2 Lewis put the boobs away
user3 is this a thirst trap???
user4 I see Lewis is handling the breakup well
user5 SLAYYYY
justinbieber 🔥
user6 as a y/n stan, this caption feels like the wrong move
↳ user7 was it even a bad breakup??!
↳ user8 sources say it was a mutually bad breakup but y/n was the first to actually say the words
↳ user9 and then Lewis posts with a shady caption 🤦♀️
user10 idc about y'all a win is a win
user11 🥵
charles_leclerc 👍
↳ user12 lmao is this shade
yourusername
liked by champagnepapi mercedesamgf1 and 15,080,321 others
yourusername who?
load comments…
user13 YASSSSSS
user14 we live
mercedesamgf1 ✨✨✨
↳ user15 lmao not Mercedes commenting on lewis’ ex’s post shading him
↳ mercedesamgf1 y/n stans forever
landonorris 💫
carlossainz 🎉🎉🎉
lilymhe i <3 u
↳ yourusername no u
charles_leclerc slayed
user16 I guess we know who got the drivers in the divorce
↳ user17 and the wags
↳ user18 definitely wasn't Lewis
champagnepapi 😍
lewishamilton
liked by judebellingham hannalola and 15,003,891 others
lewishamilton never been better
load comments…
user19 yikes
user20 oh Lewis no
user21 🥵
user22 bad look tbh
user23 who's the girl
↳ user24 some girl named Hanna or wtver. Think she's an ig model
hannalola ❤️
user25 Y/N FIGHT BACK!!!
user26 I think he was definitely better when he was the wdc and dating the love of his life
↳ user27 let him live his delusions
yourusername
liked by rubendias badgalriri and 21,008,991 others
yourusername send my love (to your new lover) out now 🖤
load comments…
user28 ITS SO GOOD
user29 YESSSSSSS
badgalriri 🖤🖤🖤
user30 TREAT HER BETTERRRR
user31 Lewis is screaming
rubendias 🔥
liked by yourusername
user32 I miss them 😭
user33 WE BOTH KNOW WE AINT KIDS NO MORE
user34 because they were both so young when the got together I’m gonna scream 😭
user35 I want dad back 😞
user36 GOTTA LET GO OF ALL OF OUR GHOSTSSSSS
lewishamilton
liked by hannalola arianagrande and 16,003,092 others
lewishamilton love you
load comments…
user37 me when I lie
user38 please no
user39 send my love….
landonorris 🍅🍅🍅
charles_leclerc boo
user40 side eye
user41 😒😒😒
alex_albon that was…
↳ lilymhe quick 🧐
user42 someone save Lewis
↳ user43 he needs to save himself
MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
liked by landonorris vogue and 26,008,012 others
yourusername love me harder (ft xnda) out now.
load comments…
user43 YEAHHHHHHH
user44 what????!!!
user45 ARE YOU KIDDING
charles_leclerc 🙌 so good
↳ landonorris well, most parts…
↳ user46 yeah all the parts where Lewis isn’t singing
user47 these lyrics are so ironic for having been written before the breakup lmao
user48 ON REPEAT
user49 TELL ME SOMETHING I NEED TO KNOW
vogue ✨
iheartradio 🖤
user50 IF YOU REALLY NEED ME YOU GOTTA LOVE ME HARDER
MESSAGES
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x fem!reader#lewis hamilton smau
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "
With Bucky. 🥺
This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!
Give Me a Name
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader
Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.
Word Count: Over 1.1k
Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.
The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.
You should’ve known they were close by.
“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.
Until today.
The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.
You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.
Today wouldn’t be that day.
He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?
What made you so special?
“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?
“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.
You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.
And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.
“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”
“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.
That was your job.
Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.
“Don’t make me shoot you.”
You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.
Not when he wanted to keep you.
“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”
“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”
“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.
“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”
You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.
Not when you belonged in different worlds.
“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”
The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.
“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”
Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”
“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”
You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”
The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.
“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”
He’d prove that to you.
I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes x agent!reader#winter and kisa#bucky barnes#mob!bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Stick it Out to the End
summary: michael is desperate to get into oxford's prestigious bullingdon club; unfortunately for him, they command him to do the impossible to gain admittance
pairing: michael gavey x bimbo!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, bimbo reader, mentions of hazing but nothing horrible/extreme, virgin!michael, breast/nipple play, praise kink, piv sex, protected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), oral sex (f receiving), consensual filming, dirty talk, cursing, what i hope is saltburn-esque humor, mild size kink, mild angst but happy ending, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 12.7k
a/n: images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only & are not used to describe the reader! she's back and she's long as hell but what else is new!!! this is my first time writing bimbo!reader and while she wasn't super bimbo-y, it was fun getting my feet wet! hope y'all enjoy!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🩷 my masterlist
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
Michael
Michael couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up in his chest as he wound through the quiet corridors clutching tightly to the cryptic note he’d found stuffed in his pigeonhole that morning – just a page torn out of a standard notebook covered hastily written red ink; wholly un-intimidating as far as cryptic notes were concerned. Really, he was surprised to see they didn’t put more effort in; with as secretive and imperious as this little club was, he had been expecting some sort of extravagant stationary, perhaps even some gold embossing.
Coming to a stop in front of an unassuming janitor’s closet door, he narrows his eyes behind the gold frames of his glasses, staring at the door with a nearly accusatorial expression. Michael swivels his head once more, his brows furrowed as he checks and re-checks every door in the vicinity before turning back to the one he stands before. Scoffing, he unfolds the note with a little irritated sigh and quickly scans the page again, mouthing the words to himself for the millionth time that day.
The riddle had been easy enough to figure out, some trivial little lines about dead men walking, the mob, finding God, and looking to one’s heart pointed right toward some hush hush basement beneath the Merton College Chapel. That, and it didn’t take a genius to see that each line consisted of a specific number of words, pointing him right to the very door he stood in front of now – 129.
Fucking amateurs, he’d thought after cracking the code in under half an hour. But that was earlier. And now, as he stares at the stupid dull grey janitor’s closet door in front of him, Michael can’t stop the little tendrils of doubt from creeping into his periphery. He’s sure this is the right door and positive this is the right place and yet… janitor’s closet. He checks his watch, 11:50 PM on the dot, and glances up and down the dark, shadowy corridors once more, half expecting one of the twatty rich assholes to jump out and start snickering at him, making fun of him for thinking that a no one like him would’ve ever received an invite to a club like this.
Shaking his head, he reaches for the doorknob anyway, he’s come this far so he may as well. He freezes a little when it actually turns and his blue eyes go wide when he pushes the door open, shivering a little as he’s met with a wall of cool, dank air – eau de basement, just as he’d expected. A little actually impressed sigh passes his lips when he pokes his head in, an apprehensive smile blooming on his lips as he takes in the eerie red lighting spilling up the stairwell from the God-knows-what downstairs.
He winces as the door squeaks when he tugs it open but he doesn’t stop, emboldened now as he knows he had been right once again. He takes the stairs quickly, probably too quickly given that he hasn’t a fucking clue what or who could be down here, but before he can dwell on the idea too much, he’s faced with another corridor. This one, unlike the ones upstairs, is narrow and brick-lined and leads in only one direction, straight to another closed door at the other end.
Michael squints against the bright red light coming from a spotlight that had been haphazardly set up on the stone floor and walks down the hallway, his steps speeding up as he hears the janitor’s door above him open and close once more. His breath hitches a little as he opens the second door and quickly steps inside, like ripping off a band-aid.
He freezes once more when a strong hand latches onto his shoulder and quickly jerks him further into the room, making him yelp as he stumbles, trying to keep pace with whoever the hell is leading him.
“What the –”
Before he has time to so much as blink, his back thuds against a brick wall and finally he looks up, the vicious scowl he’d prepared morphing into a look of disturbed confusion as he eyes a row of other students, about fifteen and all men from the looks of it, dawned with black –
Oh, Christ, are those ski masks? He thinks as he eyes them up and down, How fucking banal… at least it’s not hooded cloaks. He nearly rolls his eyes as he scans the rest of the room, taking in the dim lighting interspersed with blues and greens from more of those stupid party boy spotlights. Glancing to the side, he sees another boy in his year, some guy he only knew from a few classes and passing glances in the hallways, but even still he’s comforted to not be alone down here, no matter how cliché this whole affair seemed.
His blue eyes snap forward as the door, the only door, to the room is opened once more and some other poor sap is hastily dragged across the room, only to be smacked on the wall to his left. Again, it’s just some other boy Michael knows from classes, though he doesn’t know why he expects any different – it’s not as if he knows many people outside of the forced proximity of a lecture hall. Which was really his only reason for putting up with this bother, for seeking it out in the first place; a quick flash of him placing a tightly folded up sticky note with his name and pigeonhole number in an old, beaten up copy of King Lear in the library played in his mind – the price he seemed to pay for loneliness.
Distantly, the bells of the chapel began to chime, signaling the hour. Once, twice, and eventually twelve times – midnight. Time to start the show, Michael surmises.
“Welcome, initiates,” one of the hooded men says in a tone that makes Michael glare judgmentally, his voice pitched down like some idiotic knock-off Darth Vader. He steps forward from the row they stand in and holds his arms out open at his sides, “Consider this your first foray into the Bullingdon Club.”
Again, he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in a scoff. This was all just so… juvenile? He was beginning to sincerely doubt that this was the über clandestine club that granted its members all sorts of connections to various businesses, societies, and insider information that even the richest of the rich couldn’t buy.
Unfortunately, his face seemed to betray more of his emotions than he intended and the masked boy steps forward once more, his dark eyes zeroing in on Michael.
“You,” he says gruffly, pointing a finger in his direction, “Something you wanna say, initiate?”
Out of habit, he pushed his glasses up on his nose before he spoke, perhaps foolishly bold given the situation.
“Doesn’t this all seem a bit much for three people?” He scoffs, shaking his head slightly, “I mean, masks, really?”
The hooded boy stops for a second and studies Michael closely, one hand on his hip, “What’s wrong with the masks?”
“Well, what’s the point? There’s, what, fifteen or sixteen of you? And three of us?” He asks, glancing around the room, which he now realized very clearly used to be some run-of-the-mill storage room, probably forgotten about by now.
The boy laughs sarcastically and shrugs his shoulders a bit, his voice back to its natural pitch, “It wouldn’t really be a secret thing if we just invited half the student body, mate.”
Michael supposes his reasoning is sound and says as much with a little hum and nod of his head, eyebrows raising dismissively.
“Anything else?” The masked boy asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The masks don’t really disguise you lot that well,” he observes, pointing at one of the other boys standing in the row, “That’s Harry from Multivariable Calculus.”
“Shit…” Harry mutters under his breath, the sound carrying through the concrete room. A few of the other boys in the row lean over and place comforting hands on his shoulders and murmur words of encouragement, much to Michael’s dismay.
“Why’re you here, initiate?” The lead boy asks, turning back to Michael.
“Dunno,” he shrugs again, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Friends, I guess.”
A couple of the boys in the row make little noises, mutters of empathy that make the blond’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he glances up and down the line.
“And this was your first thought? A secret society?” Harry from Multivariable Calculus asks with a little laugh, “Not like… chess or something?”
“Don’t really like chess…” Michael says with a little shrug. Apparently a good enough answer for Harry, who makes a little noise of understanding and nods his head.
After another moment, the lead boy clears his throat, which shuts up the rest. “Anyway,” he says, his voice falsely low once more. “Each of you will be given a task…,” his dark eyes glance between Michael and the other two boys as he paces in front of them, “Perfectly customized to challenge you, to push you to your absolute limits.”
The masked boy pauses his little speech and gestures back to three of the other boys standing in the row behind him who then step forward and walk over to the dank brick wall that Michael and the other two boys stand against. He studies the boy that walks towards him carefully, his eyes narrowing in suspicion when he notices how much shorter he appears to be.
Finally, the boy comes to stand before him and presents a plain white envelope, though Michael’s lips spread into a hateful smirk when he sees an all too familiar pair of old, beat up trainers on the boy’s feet.
“Oliver?!” He hisses meanly, shock lacing his voice as he jerks back the hand he had reached out for the envelope, wincing as his elbow collides with the cool wall behind him. He glances around the room, noting the few pairs of eyes that were on him, before fixing his gaze on the boy before him once more with a harsh glare, “You’re in Bullingdon?”
The boy in front of him hesitates for a second, cutting a sideways glance toward a taller boy that was busy presenting an envelope to the boy to Michael’s left, before he sighs and looks back at him, blue eyes peeking out of the holes in his ski mask. “Yeah,” he huffs, shrugging his shoulders defensively, “How’d you know it was me, then?”
“You look like a goddamn twelve year old!” Michael jeers, his voice low and vicious as his hands curl into fists at his sides, “How’d you manage to get into this club anyway?” He questions, seething, “They only let you in if you have the money or the marks and I know for a fucking fact you don’t have either.”
Oliver sighs again and rolls his eyes, which makes him see red and grit his teeth, although he doesn’t miss how the shorter boy’s eyes cut to the side again quickly. He opens his mouth, but before he can get a word in edgewise, the blond cuts him off with a little mocking laugh.
“Don’t tell me that’s fucking Catton,” Michael groans lowly with a shake of his head, breathing heavily as he feels the same sense of anger and betrayal he’d felt all those months ago well up in him once more, transporting him right back to the stupid damn pub, “You’ve got to be bloody kidding me, is this shite little club only full of cunts?”
“Look, I’m –”
Oliver starts to speak again, only to be cut off when the head boy traipses over to where they are, coming to stand ominously behind him with his arms clasped behind his back. His dark eyes dart between the two boys before he speaks.
“Problem over here, lads?”
“No,” Oliver answers quickly, staring warily up at Michael as he practically shoves the envelope into his arms, “Just complete the task, initiate. You have thirty-six hours.”
Before Michael can blink, Oliver turns his back and stalks back over to the other boys, taking his place in the row once more. The head boy looks Michael up and down appraisingly before nodding to the letter in his hands with a sly smirk.
“I can’t wait to see how you fare with that one, Gavey,” he says, his voice low and threatening, as if he’s in on the most delicious joke, “Remember, thirty-six hours, initiate.” He chuckles softly and departs, returning to stand in the center of the room.
Everyone stands still for a moment, Michael and the other two boys to his left and right holding their respective envelopes nervously, unsure if they were supposed to open them now or not. Thankfully, the head boy clears his throat, commanding all eyes to him once again.
“Initiates,” he says slowly, his voice no doubt already hoarse from this little farce, “Failure to complete your tasks will result in a permanent ban from Bullingdon; no second chances. We expect results as well as proof of those results,” his dark eyes scan over the three boys once more, one corner of his mouth turned up into a mean smirk, “We’ll be seeing you back in this location Sunday at noon. Your thirty-six hours begin now… have fun.” He finishes with a taunting laugh before turning and exiting from the room, the old door creaking as he pulls it open before disappearing into the faint red glow of the hallway, followed by the rest of the fifteen boys in an orderly line.
As soon as the old door closes, the sound of paper tearing echoes around the dimly lit basement as Michael and the other two boys hastily tear open their envelopes. Pulling out a little slip of paper, his eyes go wide as a wave of dread washes over him. His eyes scan over the paper again and again as he nervously shoves his glasses back up his nose once more, silently willing the chicken-scratch words on the paper to somehow change, to give him some other command.
His heart is pumping so loudly in his ears that he misses it when one of the other boys tries getting his attention, his head snapping up suddenly as a hand waves in front of it.
“Oi!”
“W-What?”
“What did they give you?” The boy asks, nodding at the scrap of paper in Michael’s hand.
He clears his throat and tries his best to come off as casual, though he hardly cares with the way thoughts begin racing through his mind. “Oh, um,” he starts, glancing down to read over the paper once more, “I just uh, have to sleep with someone is all.”
The other two boys gape at him for a moment before groaning frustratedly. The one that had first spoken to him holds his paper out and smacks it disdainfully with the back of his hand.
“What the hell?” He asks gruffly, glancing between his paper and Michael, “Why’s yours so bloody easy?”
“For real,” sighs the second boy, rubbing the back of his head, “Ours are damn near impossible. They must already be decided on you to go so soft. How am I meant to steal the fucking Selden Map from Bodleian?” He laments, brows furrowed as he stares down at the paper in his hands.
“Yeah, and I have to transfer ten thousand pounds out of the chancellor’s bank account and into mine!” The first boy sighs, shaking his head, “At least your mum’s head of conservatorship here, you can at least get within a stone’s throw of the map. I have to commit fucking wire fraud!”
The two boys grumble for another moment as Michael silently descends into a tailspin, his blue eyes unfocused as he stares at one of the dingy brick walls of the basement, trying desperately to formulate a plan, any plan. He merely glances up as the other to head for the door, spitballing ideas for each of their tasks.
“Isn’t your dad the president of Julius Baer? Can’t you just get him to pull strings?”
“Oh, yeah, fantastic idea! I’ll just ring him and ask the old man to commit a felony! What could possibly go wrong there?”
Michael tries to tune out their bickering as the three of them ascend the staircase and trail out into the hallway of Merton College Chapel once more; the two other boys don’t pay him any mind as they continue whispering amongst themselves, their voices trailing quietly down the hallway as he leans with his back against the cool metal of the janitor’s closet door.
Sighing, he reads over the directive again, his blue eyes catching on the sharply scrawled letters of a very familiar name, one that makes his cheeks flush and his heart race. He swallows nervously, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
How could they know to do this? He wonders sheepishly. It’s not like he’d mentioned her to anyone; hell, he’d never even said so much as three words to her! No, his pathetic little crush was entirely in his mind.
Too much of a coward to even say hi, he bemoans, trying to stave off the sense of shame he felt as he considered how many times he’d finished with her name on his lips, her pretty face and soft curves and sweet smell and little girly outfits whirling around his head since he’d spotted her on the first fucking day; he’d pined ever since and she didn’t even know he existed! How could she?
This is fucking impossible, he thinks miserably, wishing that he had any other task. He’d rather steal the Queen’s own goddamn family jewels than this. He glances at his watch once more and groans when he sees it’s almost already two in the morning; pushing himself up off the door, he hangs his head as he scurries back to his dorm room, thoughts spiraling as he plots.
You
A laugh bubbles up past your lips as you sway your hips, your whole body vibrating as “Umbrella” blasts through the speakers while you dance with your friends, partying to celebrate the end of term.
“You can run into my arms, it’s okay, don't be alarmed!” You sing happily, yours and your friends voices mingling together with another peal of laughter; you take another sip of your drink as you move along with the beat of the song, savoring the fizzy strawberry daiquiri as you begin to feel a bit warm from the little rush of alcohol, already on your third drink of the night.
You smile proudly as you spot Felix in the crowd, his hazel eyes already fixed on you, or well, fixated on your chest. His attention makes you preen and you bite your lower lip, the sickly sweet taste of your cherry lip gloss filling your mouth as you purposefully bounce up and down on the balls of your feet.
The thin straps of your pastel pink dress hold on for dear life as your chest heaves enticingly, and you giggle when you see those hazel eyes widen just a bit, no doubt tracing over the glittering chain of your necklace, following down to where it settles, a little sparkly pink diamond nestling temptingly at your cleavage. You teasingly wink, blushing a little when you get a wink back, and go back to dancing with your friends, knowing from experience that Felix preferred to approach rather than be approached.
You dance with your friends for a few more moments, grinding up against any warm body you can find as a raunchier song begins pumping through the speakers, before you feel eyes on you yet again. Smiling at the attention, you glance around again, the low, colorful lighting of the pub making it hard to tell exactly which direction your admirer’s coming from.
Your eyes flit over a few familiar faces, you can’t help but sigh in relief when you notice that Oliver’s eyes are thankfully planted firmly on someone that is not you, though a confused little crease forms between your brows when you realize that Felix’s aren’t either. Turning your head, you sway along to the music still as you look around quickly, your feet beginning to ache finally from the precious little satin Chanel heels buckled around your ankles.
Your eyes finally lock onto an unexpected gaze, a fresh wash of pink coloring your cheeks as blue eyes glance shyly away from you. A little giggle titters past your lips as you lean over to one of your friends, patting her shoulder to get her attention.
“You know who that blond guy is? With the glasses?” You call over the music, nodding over in your admirer’s direction as he stands awkwardly back against the wall by the entrance, clutching a still-foamy pint.
She glances over before turning back to you with a little shrug. “Michael something, I think!” She says, her breath warm as she leans in closer so you can hear her, “I thought Oliver knew him!”
Your eyes immediately find the brunette, predictably following Felix around like a lost little puppy, before you look back over at Michael. You can’t help but feel a bit bad when you see him quickly look away from your direction again before staring intently into his pint glass, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khaki pants.
“I’m gonna take a breather for a second!” You yell over the loud music, leaning in close and cupping a hand over her ear.
“Aw, babe, come on!” She pouts playfully, tilting her head at you, “Stay longer!”
You shake your head with another little laugh and gesture at your feet, “These are sooo cute but they’re killing me!” You laugh, finishing off the last sip of your drink, “I’ll be over by the notice board!” You tell her, blowing a kiss as you walk away from the dance floor of the small, cramped pub.
Finally, you reach the little area by the front door and lean back against the wall, taking in a much-needed deep breath as you pull your little tube of lip gloss out of your bra and carefully reapply some more, smirking when you glance over out of the corner of your eye and see a certain blond boy already shyly eyeing you.
Rubbing your lips together with a little pouty pop, you tuck your gloss back in your bra once more before slowly approaching Michael, prettily manicured hands clasped behind your back to help shamelessly push your chest out more. His wide eyed stare makes you giggle and blush as you study him, eyes flitting appreciatively up and down his lithe frame; so much potential hidden away under a little button down and khakis.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” you tease, smirking when he blushes and all but chokes on his beer, coughing for a few seconds before finally speaking.
“I… Me?” He asks awkwardly, glancing around for seemingly anyone else you could be talking to.
Lucky for him, you find his awkwardness endearing. Truthfully, you had for months, never missing the way his eyes always happened upon you in a crowd. There was something impressive about the boy, something that had made your mind drift to him on more than one occasion, even if you were already under someone else.
“Of course you, silly,” you laugh softly, leaning against the wall next to him and tilting your head curiously, “You’re Michael, right?”
His eyes go wide again and nods wordlessly before finding his voice. “Yeah, Michael,” he says with a reserved little smile, “Gavey! Michael Gavey…” He adds awkwardly, cheeks flushing even more when you giggle, seemingly charmed by his inability to string two words together. He nods as you introduce yourself.
“I know,” he says before blinking, eyes going wide behind his gold framed glasses as he awkwardly glances away, “I just… I mean I’ve heard your name before, that’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?” You echo with a flirty little giggle, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you let the moment linger, just wanting to push him a little. “What’re you reading?” You ask curiously, cocking your head to the side a little.
“Maths,” he nods quickly before looking down into his pint glass once more as if fizzling beer is the most interesting thing in the world, “I don’t really like it all that much, though… I mostly only picked it because I’m good at it.”
“Ooh,” you coo softly, nodding along with his words as you watch him carefully, “You must be wicked smart, I can’t do maths to save my life.” You comment with a little giggle, biting your lip when he seems to perk up at that comment and looks up at you with a little grin.
“I can do it in my head,” he says lowly, an unexpectedly cocky edge to his voice that has your heart picking up in your chest, “Ask me a sum,” he says, a challenging glimmer in his eyes.
You hum softly, biting your lip as you think for a second, “Uhm, seventy-two plus a hundred and thirteen?”
“One eighty-five,” he chuckles after no more than a second before scoffing a little, “Come on, give me one that’s hard, love.”
Love? The little pet name makes you raise an eyebrow before you laugh softly. “What do you mean a hard one?” You giggle, shaking your head, “That one was hard!”
“That was hard for you?” He teases, making your cheeks tingle as a pink flush settles over your skin, “What’re you reading, then?”
“Art history!” You chirp proudly, chuckling nervously when you see him roll his eyes a bit, “What? Something wrong with that?”
He shakes his head dismissively, quickly polishing off the last of his pint before setting the empty class on a table and turning back to you, pushing his glasses up his nose with a grin, “Ask me another one, then. Biggest numbers you can think of.”
You don’t know why, but something about his little challenge has you blushing again, like he’s testing you somehow. But still, you take a moment to think of some numbers, biting your lip and quirking your eyes up toward the ceiling.
“Six hundred thirty-two times… eight hundred ninety-one,” you hum, cocking your head to the side as you watch him closely. His eyes seem to glaze over, only for a second, before once again he’s spouting off numbers like a calculator.
“Five hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred and twelve.”
Your eyebrows raise at that as you gawk at him. “Wow…,” you breathe after a moment, blinking as you stare up at him, “You’re, like, super smart, then?”
“Suppose so,” he says, smiling shyly again as he tucks both hands into the pockets of his khaki pants.
You study him for a moment as the conversation lulls, finding something endlessly fascinating about the boy; the way he could swing from being so cocky and self assured to shy and awkward makes your stomach do summersaults. Turning your head, you spot your group of friends still dancing and you look back at Michael with a little sigh as another upbeat song blasts loudly through the pub.
“D’you wanna get out of here?” You ask, smirking when he looks up at you shyly.
“W-What?”
“My dorm’s only, like, a minute from here,” you flirt, sweet and enticing as you make him blush somehow more, “We could go somewhere more… quiet?”
He stares at you for a moment, shocked that you’re asking him of all people to come back to yours before he nods and nervously runs a hand through his wheat colored hair, unsuccessfully trying to act casual. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”
“Yay!” You giggle happily, flirtatiously grabbing one of his hands as you saunter past him, heading for the exit, “C’mon, it’s like a five minute walk!” He nods wordlessly and you can’t help but smirk as he follows you like a lost little puppy.
True to your word, it’s only a few minutes later when you and Michael reach your dorm room, after you’d stopped for a minute at the entrance to your hall to chat with Farleigh, who seemed very interested in the nerdy boy following at your heels. You just couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face as you and Michael left him standing at the doors, mouth open and a wicked little gleam in his eyes; no doubt, he’d immediately scurried off to the King’s Arms.
The door to your room opens with a tiny squeak, blasted old building, and you all but prance inside, turning back to the blond boy still lingering in the doorway with a smile.
“Am I going to have to invite you in like a vampire?” You joke with a little laugh as you bend down to quickly undo the buckles of your heels, letting out a relieved sigh when you finally step out of them, leaving you in frilly white ankle socks.
Michael finally steps into your room with a huffed laugh and quickly kicks off his shoes, you smirk when you see his Star Wars themed socks. “‘M no vampire, love,” he quips, gold framed eyes darting around your room as he looks over every detail. You grin at the little blush on his cheeks and perch on the edge of your bed to watch him, head tilted ever so slightly.
“It’s, uh, it’s cute in here,” he observes, his voice a low hum as he takes in your frilly, lacy curtains, plush white rug, and equally girlish floral bedding, all encased in the faint pink glow of the heart-shaped fairy lights strung up around the room, “Just like how I imagined…” He breathes, so lowly you doubt he meant to say that bit aloud.
“Like you imagined?” You echo with a little giggle, quickly reapplying your lip gloss before setting the little tube on the corner of your desk.
“I just… I – It’s just very… you, is all I meant,” he stutters, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, the apples of his cheeks flushed a dark pink.
His awkwardness is so endearing, you can’t help but grin. The more time you spend with him, the more interesting he seems to become; this bumbling, nervous boy is so different from the one you’ve seen on campus so many times. On campus, he’s comfortable, quiet still, but with a definite air of confidence – clearly in his element as he prowls through bookshelves in the library or explains some complex math formula in the quad.
“So, you think about me often, then?” Your voice stays sweet, innocent almost, though you can’t help but tease him; he’s so pretty when he blushes.
“No!” He answers quickly, whipping his head toward you from where he’d been studying the various pictures tacked up on the walls, everything from boy band posters to stills from Clueless and Legally Blonde. “I mean, yes, sometimes, I…,” he fumbles again and pushes his glasses up his sharp nose, “I think about you a normal amount.” He says finally, glancing at you quickly before looking away.
You hum softly and stand before walking toward him with a kind smile, though you don’t miss the way he keeps glancing down at your cleavage, or the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows nervously.
“A normal amount?”
“Mhm,” he nods, gaze unsure as you come to stand in front of him, teeth biting into your plush lower lip as you twirl a piece of hair through your fingers, “As much as I think of anyone else.”
“So…,” you breathe, drawing out the word as you reach up and fiddle with the collar of his button down shirt, the turquoise gingham a bright blue blip among all the blush tones of your room, “Every time I’ve caught you looking at my tits in the library or in the quad or in the hallways… that was just a normal amount?”
You giggle as his eyes go wide, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. Deciding to take mercy on him, you run a finger down his chest, playfully fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.
“Relax, I’m not mad,” you shake your head, smiling when the tension in his shoulders visibly eases, “Why wouldn’t I want a cutie like you staring?”
His lips part at that as he sucks in a little breath, blue eyes widening behind his glasses. “You think I’m… cute?” He asks breathlessly, heart pounding under your fingertip.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip once more as you nod, cocking your head to the side just slightly as you peer up at him. “‘Course I do, honey, what’s not to like?”
Again, he gawks at you, blinking in shock and swallowing nervously.
“I –”
“I do have one question though…,” you tease, pouting a bit as you slowly and carefully undo the very top button on his shirt, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat.
“Y-Yeah?” His voice breaks, making you giggle while he blushes somehow deeper.
“Mhm,” you nod, undoing the second button and pausing when you find a splash of hair across his chest, the same shiny wheat color as the hair on his head, causing a familiar knot to begin twisting itself up in your belly, “Why were you at the end of term party?”
He blinks for a second, evidently taken off guard. “I… W-Was it invite only?”
His question nearly makes you snort and you shake your head, the corners of your lips twitching as you try not to laugh. “No, sweetie,” you peer up at him through your lashes as you rest your hand against his bare chest, smirking ever so slightly when he shivers, “I just meant, I haven’t seen you at parties before… doesn’t really seem like your kind of thing.”
“I, well,” he stammers, the bottoms of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his cheeks, “I just –”
“It’s for that club, yeah?” You ask finally, giggling at the shocked expression on his face.
“How do –”
“You lot are not nearly as sneaky as you think,” you laugh cheekily, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet, “Plus, I heard Felix and Oliver whispering about something to do with tasks a few weeks ago… and boys are very bad at keeping secrets once you get their cocks out.” You add with a little giggle, taking Michael’s hand once more and dragging him over to your plush bed. You sit him on the edge before all but climbing in his lap, smiling cheekily as you straddle his thighs, your knees digging into your soft bedding.
“So,” you start, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself and smiling a little when he finally touches you, lightly resting his hands on your hips, “What’s your task, hm? I heard they made them, like, particularly brutal this year.”
“I don’t think I should say,” Michael murmurs with a little shake of his head, making you pout.
“Oh, come on!” You bounce on his lap a little, not missing the way his eyes seem to be drawn to your breasts like magnets, “I want to help! Is it something at the King’s Arms?”
“N-No, I really don’t think –”
“I know they keep the important rugby trophies there,” you think aloud, still playing dumb, just wanting him to say it, “Is that it? D’you have to steal one? One of the boys that works there owes me, I could get him to let you in after hours…” You prattle on, speaking faster and faster as Michael shakes his head beneath you.
Finally, he seems to reach a breaking point and his grip on your hips tightens. “I have to fuck you!” He blurts out before sighing.
“Oh, really?”
“I… I have to fuck you –”
“Mhm?”
“And prove I did somehow.”
“How interesting!”
He narrows his eyes at that and peers up at you suspiciously, studying you carefully. You can’t help but giggle, loving the way you feel when his eyes are on you, and you smirk when he finally blinks in realization.
“You… you knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
A sly smile spreads across your lips as you nod, squirming excitedly on his lap. “Like I said,” you chuckle with a little shrug, “Not. Sneaky!” You tease, punctuating each word with a little boop to the tip of his nose, unable to resist.
He stays silent for a moment, gazing up at you with a strange mixture of awe and unease before he finally speaks through a deep sigh. “So, I suppose this is the part where you tell me to leave?”
Well, that comment throws you off. You cock your head to the side, confused, as your eyebrows furrow together. “Why would I ask you to leave?”
He sighs again and grits his teeth, looking dejectedly at the floor. “Come on, love,” he mutters, looking anywhere but you, “I-It’s not like you’d ever want to –”
“Ever want to what?” You ask with a frown, gently grabbing at his chin and tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your gaze, “You think I don’t wanna fuck you, honey?”
“Well, I –”
“Michael,” you say pointedly, raising your brows as you smirk slightly, staring deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m the one that came onto you, yeah?”
“I… I suppose.”
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head as you run your fingers through his short hair, not missing the little sigh that leaves his lips when you push yourself closer to him, your chest pressing tightly against his, “And while I’m not thrilled at our first time being for some stupid little task –”
“It’s,” he cuts you off shyly, shaking his head ever so slightly, “It’s – I’ve never…” He stammers, nervously gripping at your waist once more.
You can’t help but smile softly, so charmed by him over and over. You nod your head knowingly, raising your brows just a bit. “I know, honey,” you whisper reassuringly, “We don’t have to, I’ll let you take a pair of my panties or whatever else, but we don’t need to do anything.”
He sighs up at you again, so taken with you he feels like he could scream, and shakes his head more, grabbing at your hips tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “N-No, I… I want to,” he nods, swallowing anxiously, “I do, I just… don’t really know what I’m doing.”
You nod again, listening carefully as he speaks. “So, is it all new or…?”
He shakes his head and smiles a little, shyly, though the sight of it still makes that knot in your belly tighten further, making you blush on his lap while butterflies swirl around inside you. “I’ve kissed before,” he says lowly, chuckling awkwardly as he seems to get bolder, causing you to shudder when he lightly rubs his hands over your waist and hips, “And done… hand stuff.”
You giggle at his boyish explanation and bite your lip when you smile at him, wiggling in his lap as a heat begins to settle at the apex of your thighs. “Can I kiss you, honey?”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat again, making you want so badly to press soft, glossy kisses to it, but you resist, determined to make this good for him.
“Yeah,” he nods eagerly, blue eyes fixated on your lips.
You smile softly before leaning in and finally pressing your lips against his, both of you sighing at once. One of his hands stays at your hip while the other comes to rest in the small of your back, pressing you more tightly to him as your lips move together, his motions surprisingly fluid and practiced.
You make a small noise in the back of your throat when you feel his tongue licking at your bottom lip, and eagerly allow him access with a little sigh. Your fingers busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making him shudder beneath you when you skim your hands over his bare chest and stomach as his tongue flows with your own, the bitter, coffee-ish flavor of the pint he’d had earlier still on his tongue.
Impatient, you pull back long enough to look at him for reassurance, smiling when you earn a little nod. You kiss him once more before tugging his shirt off, flushing when he groans lowly as you trail kisses down over his jaw and neck before swiping your tongue greedily over his Adam’s apple, making his breath hitch.
“F-Fuck,” he sighs brokenly, bolding tracing over your thigh until his fingers are tucked up under the silky, baby pink material of your dress. His touches make you shiver as goosebumps bloom over your skin, making you whine against the pale column of his throat, “Can I?” He breathes, fingers toying with a strap of your dress while the others slowly inched the bottom of it up higher and higher.
“God, please,” you mewl, nodding against his throat, your head on his shoulder. He shudders at the feel of your breath on his neck and nods once before tugging at the bottom of your dress. You sit up to help him, whining when you feel his hard length pressing against your thin, lacy underwear, “You don’t need to ask, Michael. Want you to take me however you want.” You whisper as he tugs your dress over your head, blue eyes meeting yours for a second as he nods before they skim lower, widening as he takes you in on his lap wearing only a bra and panties.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, making you giggle shyly as you lean in and softly kiss over his cheeks, “You have…you’re – you’re perfect,” he sighs, brazenly cupping your breasts, skimming his thumbs over your nipples through the thin pink fabric of your bra and smiling proudly when he feels them harden at his touch, “You’re perfect, but these are… holy shit.” He repeats, his voice breathy and mesmerized as he takes in your chest for another moment while you softly card your fingers through his golden hair.
You gasp through a little giggle when you feel his length twitch, even through his trousers, and wiggle on his lap, blushing when the movement earns you a broken groan. “Yeah?” You whisper cheekily, watching as he marvels at your chest for a second longer before quickly unclasping your bra and shrugging out of it, tossing it down onto the floor with his shirt and your dress, “What about now?” You tease, proudly arching your back as you bite your lip.
He groans again, louder than he has all evening, and instantly ducks his head down. The feel of his soft lips wrapping eagerly around one of your nipples makes you cry out, gasping sharply as he sucks at the sensitive bud before he runs his tongue over it. You cradle the back of his head in your hands, fingers lightly pulling at the short strands of hair, as he switches from one breast to the other, kneading whichever one is free with his hand.
Needing something, anything, you finally pull him off of your chest after a few moments, laughing when he all but whines, and smiling even more when you take in his disheveled appearance – blond hair sticking up at odd angles from where you’d run your fingers through it, cheeks flushed as his glasses sit crooked on his nose, and his blue eyes staring up at you hungrily.
You shift back on his thighs just enough to snake a hand between the two of you and he gasps when you cup the bulge pressing against the zipper of his khakis. “You want me to suck your cock?” You ask cheekily, lightly squeezing at his length.
He surprises you by shaking his head no,gulping slightly with an awkward laugh before answering. “I do, I really fucking do, love,” he breathes, kneading at your breasts as he stares up at you sheepishly, “B-But I really want to last and if you… if you suck it, I –”
“Okay, okay,” you stop him with a kiss, “We’ll table it for next time.”
“N-Next time?” He questions, fighting to keep his eyes open as you press kisses against his neck once more. You nod against his shoulder and press kisses up to just beneath his ear.
“I’m not letting you go that easy, honey,” you whisper, chuckling when he shivers. You spend another moment softly kissing and biting at his neck before speaking again, “Have you ever eaten anyone out?” You question, pulling back to look at him.
He shakes his head, his eyes flicking between both of yours as he looks up at you. “No.” He answers simply, his voice hardly a whisper.
You can’t help but smirk coyly and cock your head to the side, running a finger through the little patch of hair on his chest just to see him shudder. “You wanna try it?”
He nods eagerly and surprises you once again by quickly swinging you around, maneuvering you until your head rests on the pillows of your bed. You squeal at the movement, laughing with him as he settles over you, his narrow hips slotting easily between your thighs as you silently marvel at his unexpected strength, the shock of it going right between your legs.
“You want me to lick your pussy?” He asks lowly, grinning when he sees your eyes widen ever so slightly.
“You��re quite something, huh?” You breathe, still gazing up at him in surprise.
“Observant,” he shrugs, smirking as he sits up, kneeling between your legs, “You aren’t the only one who is, love.” He teases, quickly undoing his belt and trousers and groaning as he pushes them down his thighs, stopping at his knees.
Your eyes go wide at the size of his length, it’s clearly very impressive and it’s not even out of his plaid boxers yet. That smirk stays plastered on his face as he leans back down to hover over you, hastily removing his glasses and sitting them on your desk before sloppily kissing you for a moment, surprising you yet again by trailing wet kisses down your neck.
“Michael…” You sigh dreamily, arching your back toward him when he starts kissing over your chest. He groans from deep in his chest, mouth pressed against the fat of your breast.
“Fucking hell,” he curses, teasing your nipple again with the tip of his tongue, “Say it again, love.”
His simple command sends shivers down your spine and you mewl, squirming underneath him, “M-Michael!” You moan again, fumbling over your words as he sucks at your breast again before he lifts his head.
“Good girl,” he purrs with a sly, easy smirk that makes your heart jump, a soft sigh tumbling past your lips. He shifts further down the bed, kissing down over your ribs and stomach, his confidence seemingly growing every time he presses his lips against your skin; the thought makes your head spin.
Finally, he hooks his fingers into the lacy sides of your panties, and his eyes peer up at you as he tugs them down over your hips before flinging them onto the floor. “Oh, my God…,” he sighs, staring greedily at your pussy, a broken groan sounds from his throat when you spread your legs more.
You bite your lip and giggle, smiling shyly as you tangle your fingers in his hair once more. “Like what you see?”
He nods his head rapidly, making you chuckle again as he stares up at you, an almost pained expression on his face. “I… uh, w-what now?”
He’s so endearing, you can’t help the little sigh that leaves you and you sit up a little, leaning back on an elbow as you use your other hand to spread your center open. You bite your bottom lip once more when he whines a little, seeing you all spread out before him, flushed folds already slick and shiny.
“Lick here, honey,” you whimper as you skim your fingers over your clit, so keyed up from only a few kisses that you gasp a little when you feel yourself clench; Michael looks like he may pass out.
Ever the dutiful student, he gives you one last look before diving in. Your head falls back with a whiny gasp as his tongue snakes over your clit, just as you’d instructed. A long, shuddery moan leaves him, vibrating against your cunt and you watch as his blue eyes all but roll back in his head.
“Just like that, Michael,” you praise, tugging at his hair ever so slightly, which only serves to make him moan more. Your chest heaves as you watch him, determined not to let your eyes squeeze shut while he licks and kisses and sucks at your pussy like a man possessed, “Holy shit!” You whimper loudly when he pushes his tongue into you, groaning lowly when he feels your walls clench around it as he presses his nose perfectly against your clit.
“You taste so good,” he gasps, wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep you exactly where he wants. He peers up at you through blond lashes as he feasts on you, sucking eagerly at your clit and savoring the way you shiver and squirm from his motions.
Unbelievably, you already feel that warm, familiar tug in your belly beginning to grow, making your whole body feel flush and taut. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine urgently, grabbing onto his hair tighter and guiding his mouth exactly where you need it, your eyes finally rolling back and fluttering shut, “Holy fuck, don’t stop!”
Michael grunts as you tug at his hair, his own hips rutting greedily against your pretty bedding — cock throbbing so hard there’s no doubt he’s leaked through his boxers. He watches you carefully, studying your movements and reactions as best he can while he rhythmically licks at your clit.
“Oh, shit!” You cry not even a moment later, your whole body seeming to stutter as your muscles finally relax. You mewl as your high finally washes over you, savoring the way Michael groans into your cunt as he feels it contracting on his tongue. Your eyes stay squeezed shut as shivers roll up and down your spine, shuddered cries leaving your lips.
Just as his touches begin to border on overstimulation, you have enough wherewithal to push him away, and he releases your center with a lewd little pop.
“Was that good?” He asks through a breathless laugh, swallowing as he looks up at you, evidence of your arousal still shining on his lips and chin.
“Good?” You huff, eyebrows raised as you gaze down at him, “You’re sure you’ve never done that before?” You question in disbelief, chest still heaving.
He smiles shyly, already pink cheeks seeming to flush deeper from your praise as he chuckles. You cup his cheeks when he leans over you again, whimpering as you taste yourself on his tongue.
“You’re unbelievable.” You sign as he kisses down your neck again, making him chuckle against your skin.
“Just observant,” he grunts, shuddering when you wrap your legs around his trim waist. You gasp as his length brushes over your still sensitive pussy, impossibly hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his boxers. His fragmented sigh makes you smile and you tug his head up, blushing as you look up at him.
“You ready, honey?” You breathe, giggling when he nods his head again eagerly, his hips stuttering instinctually against your center. “Here, let me…” You trail off, the two of you separating for a moment as you lean over and pull open the top drawer of your desk, pulling out a pack of condoms and tearing one off before laying back down.
You watch enraptured as he kneels between your legs again, pulling down his boxers finally. “Holy…” you gasp when his cock finally bobs free, twitching up to rut against his lower stomach; he’s long and thick, curving a little as veins run up the underside, leading to a flushed, leaking head. He smiles shyly again at your attention as he shuffles awkwardly out of his trousers and underwear, kicking them off and onto the floor.
You hand him the condom and watch as he rolls it on, giving him a little reassuring smile as he does. Once it’s securely in place, you pull him back to you, eagerly kissing him once more and wrapping your legs securely around his waist. Both of you moan in unison when his length glides through your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit.
He pulls away with a little gasp, hovering over you as he glances down at your hips. “S-So, I just…” He trails off, watching as you reach down with one hand, grunting softly when you wrap your hand around his cock.
Carefully, you position him at your entrance and angle your hips a little. “Go on, honey,” you encourage with a soft smile, running your other hand over his chest.
Nodding once, he presses forward and swears he sees God. “F-Fucking hell,” he groans, loudly sighing your name as he carefully guides himself into you, absolutely in awe at the way your hot cunt grips him. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips resting firmly against yours as his chest heaves, breaths coming in short, sharp pants.
You aren’t fairing much better, head spinning at the way he splits you open, pressing incessantly at each and every sensitive spot within you. You pant against his neck as he stills, pressed deeply within you.
“D-Do… fuck, do I just…?” Michael stutters, giving half-hearted little thrusts to test the waters.
“Yes!” You answer instantly, anxiously nodding up at him as your hips wiggle against the bedsheets, making him swear and shudder above you, “Just move, honey, do what feels good.”
He groans again and gives a little nod before experimentally moving his hips again, pulling out more this time before pushing back in. “Shit,” he breathes above you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he grunts with each roll of his hips.
You pant underneath him, spurring him on by pressing your feet against his backside, urging him to move faster and faster as the frilly lace from your socks tickles his pale skin. “You’re doing so, so good, oh, my God,” you breathe, your voice high-pitched and whimpery as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, knowing by now that it drives him crazy.
Above you, Michael’s hips slowly but surely begin to stutter, his thrusts starting to peter out as his breathing picks up. “I’m —!”
“Wait!” You blurt suddenly, smiling wickedly as he comes to a screeching halt, pushing himself up enough to stare down at you with wild eyes, “I have an idea…” You tease with a little giggle.
“W-What?”
“You have a phone, yeah?”
“…Yeah?”
“One that can, like, take video?”
“Yes?”
“Grab it,” you laugh, pushing him off of you with a laugh. He rolls his eyes with a smirk but does as you ask, clumsily pulling himself from your heat before stumbling over to where his khakis had landed. He shuffles about for a second before pulling a silver phone from the pocket of his trousers.
“Now what?” He asks curiously, positioning himself back between your thighs, cock twitching meanly.
“Film me.”
“What?!” He gapes at you, brows creased.
“Film me, honey,” you giggle, biting your lip conspiratorially, “For your little task, you need proof, yeah?”
“Well, yeah, b-but I can just take your panties or something, I don’t —“
“Or you could bring back something better…” You smirk, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “We don’t have to but… it could be kinda hot?”
He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking between you, your pussy, and the phone in his hand before he nods once, curtly. “We… we can try it.”
“Yeah? You wanna?”
“Yeah,” he quips, catching you by surprise as a mean little smirk spreads over his lips, “Wanna see the look on Catton’s face when he sees you creaming on my cock.”
Your eyes widen and you huff out a shocked laugh, a zing of electricity lighting behind your eyes. “You’re insane,” you say softly, an endeared smile on your lips.
He snickers, his whole demeanor seeming to change before your eyes as he transforms from this shy, stuttering boy into an astonishingly cocky man. “You like it, love,” he teases, grabbing his dick and positioning himself at your entrance yet again.
“Wait!” You giggle again, blushing as he groans.
“You don’t want to anymore?”
“No, no, not that,” you assure him, affectionately running your hand down one of his shockingly muscular arms, “You can film me… on one condition.”
“‘N what would that be?”
“Take me on a date.” You breathe, suddenly shy. You know he’ll agree to it, but even still, your heart pumps wildly in your chest.
He stares at you for a second, blinking dumbly as he processes your request. “You want me to take you on a date?” He asks, flushing so deeply that the soft pink hue cascades all the way down to his chest.
Giggling, you nod your head, giving his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “You need to start giving yourself more credit, honey.”
He sighs at that, a little astounded huff, before he’s suddenly grabbing at your calves and pushing your legs up toward your shoulders, all but bending you in half, anxious to get his cock back into you. You gasp at the movement, and chuckle at his eagerness, a sound that morphs into a whiny moan when he slides back home.
“Christ,” he grunts, shoulders heaving as he gets used to the way you feel around him once more, “Y-You feel so good, love, fucking perfect.”
“You’re so big,” you whine, nodding as you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky, “You’re so good, Michael, you have no idea.”
He groans above you, hands shaking as he grabs for his phone, flipping it open and quickly opening the camera as his hips rut into you, making the springs of your bed creak softly.
As soon as Michael gives you a little nod to let you know he’s filming, you truly put on a show — or well, you at least stop trying to quiet yourself down and be conscientious of the people in the rooms next to you. The way he has your legs bent back makes him feel somehow bigger and causes his cock to hit that sensitive spot within you with pinpoint accuracy every time he thrusts in, making you clench around him and moan loudly each time he moves his hips against you.
You watch as he angles the camera down a bit, no doubt pointing it at the spot the two of you are joined together, letting the camera record his cock sliding in and out of you. When he moves it back up, however, to get your face as evidence, you plaster on the cheekiest grin you can muster.
“H-Hi boys,” you tease breathlessly, smirking as you lean up on one elbow. You wave with your other hand before blowing a kiss to the camera, which makes Michael cockily laugh.
“Fuck, I gotta…” he mutters after a few more seconds, carelessly dropping his phone down on the bed before roughly grabbing at your thighs with a bruising grip, one that makes you mewl and arch your back toward him. The two of you moan and whimper in unison as he begins thrusting wildly, seemingly too worked up to care about anything but cumming.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chant over and over, head spinning as he bullies your sweet spot.
“That’s it, love,” Michael murmurs, his voice gruff and low as he stares down at you, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead; he looks wilder than you’ve ever seen him, the thought only serving to push you closer and closer to the edge. “S-Shit, that’s it. Fucking come for me, cream on my cock; please, please, please,” he murmurs, leaning down to press desperate kisses against your neck and collarbones.
The new position causes his pubic bone to rub deliciously over your clit, making you seize beneath him with a loud whine. Your toes curl, heels still pressing into the small of his back. “M-Michael, holy fuck!” You practically squeal as your high finally washes over you once more, stars dancing behind your eyelids as you go lax and pliant underneath him.
The feel of your walls pulsing around his cock has Michael reeling, his hips somehow thrusting even faster as he both desperately wants to cum while also never wanting this feeling to end. “C-Cum, honey, cum,” you pant softly, cupping his cheek with one hand and turning his face toward yours.
That does him in and the rubber band in his belly viciously snaps, making him shudder above you as his thrusts come to a halt, cock twitching wildly inside you as he empties himself into the condom. You watch him in awe, taking in every detail from the way his nose scrunches up as his eyes squeeze close to the way he whispers your name over and over like a prayer.
The two of you lay in silence for a moment, his breath warm against your neck as he slumps against you trying to catch his breath.
Eventually, you can’t help it anymore and let out a breathless giggle, which only intensifies when he props himself up on an elbow to peer down at you with a smirk.
“Something funny?”
“Just,” you breathe, trying to calm yourself enough to get words out, “Just… wow,” you finally say, giggles petering out as you look up at him, the soft gleam in his eyes makes your heart clench in your chest.
“Good wow?” He blushes, looking down between the two of you as he pulls himself from your walls with a little hiss.
“Very, very good wow,” you confirm, grinning as you watch him pull off the condom before he peers up at you with a sheepish grin. “Tie it off, honey,” you instruct, smirking as he does just that, before nodding to the little wastebasket by your desk.
He gets up with a groan and quickly tosses the condom in the trash before turning back to you, the bashful look on his face making you blush.
Unable to resist, you grin at him and spread your arms with a giggle, wordlessly inviting him for a cuddle, which he gladly accepts. The bed creaks slightly as he lays back down, relaxing his head on the pillow just beside yours. Again, the two of you stay silent for a moment, content to merely gaze at one another, before he shyly looks away and sighs.
“I…,” he starts, blue eyes blinking and flitting around your room as he gathers his thoughts, “Thank you,” he finally says, looking back at you with a little half smile.
Your brows furrow at this as you grin at him. “What’re you thanking me for?”
“Well, f-for… this,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the two of you before sitting up just slightly and fishing around in the blankets for a second. “And this,” he sighs, holding his phone up before twisting around to set it on the corner of your desk, turning back to you. “I just… I know you didn’t have to, is all, so…”
You cock your head to the side as you prop yourself up on an elbow, eyes narrowing as you study him closely. “And people have the nerve to say I’m thick,” you joke, lips spreading into a wide grin as you gaze down at him, “I wanted to do all this, Michael. I’m the one that came onto you, remember?”
“W-Well, yeah, but —“
“No buts!” You laugh, pressing a finger against his lips as you shake your head, “I have eyes too, you know.”
“What does that mean?”
“You haven’t been the only one watching someone for months,” you giggle shyly, pressing your forehead against his, “I meant what I said about that date, too.”
His arms wind around your waist, holding you tight as he processes your words with a dumbstruck smile, blushing under your gaze. “Whatever you say, love,” he concedes finally, pressing his lips against yours sweetly.
He yawns tiredly when he pulls away from you after a moment, which only makes you yawn as well, and you glance over at the little clock on your dresser. “Christ,” you gasp, turning back to him, “I didn’t realize it’s already almost four… you can crash here, if you want?”
He considers it for a moment, knowing he has to be back in that stupid little basement by noon and making a mental map of where exactly your dormitory is in relation to the Merton College Chapel. “I… I can stay, yeah,” he finally nods after a moment.
“You’re sure?”
“Love, I’m not sure my legs work well enough yet to walk out of here anyway.”
Michael
Groaning, Michael slowly blinks his eyes open, rubbing them softly as he sits up in bed with a yawn. Blindly reaching over for his glasses, he’s confused when he doesn’t feel them in their usual spot and finally opens his eyes properly.
He stares, confused for a moment as to how exactly he somehow got transported into what appears to be Barbie’s damn dream house, before the events of last night come flooding back to him.
“Holy shit,” he breathes when he turns his head and sees your still-sleeping form beneath your flowery sheets, your hair tousled wildly on the pillow as your shoulders rise and fall evenly still with each breath. Looking around, he finally spots his glasses and puts them on before reaching for his phone, and cursing again when he sees the time.
11:47 AM.
He practically falls out of your bed as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets, and he hears you wake with a start behind him as he grabs wildly at his clothes on the floor.
“Michael?” You ask questioningly, your voice still hoarse from sleep as you, frankly fucking adorably, rub at your eyes before fixing him with a curious look.
“Gotta, shit, gotta run,” he explains quickly, cursing as he nearly loses his balance trying to tug his trousers on, “Need to be at Merton Chapel in, like, Christ, ten minutes!”
“Ohh,” you giggle softly, watching with amusement as he finishes getting dressed, hair and clothes so disheveled that he’s sure he looks like the very definition of the walk of shame.
Just as he’s tugging his shoes on and making a mad dash for the door, you stop him. “Here,” you smirk, holding out the same lacy pair of pink panties you wore last night, “For proof,” you explain, nodding to the phone in his hand, “Along with that. Should be more than enough,” you giggle proudly.
He smiled sheepishly as he pockets your underwear. “T-Thanks,” he nods, turning to leave before you stop him once more.
He can’t help but blush when you lean in and press and quick kiss to his lips, your cherry chapstick rubbing off on him some. Pulling away, you playfully smack his chest with a little grin. “Go get ‘em, honey.”
Nodding, he smiles again before finally pulling your door open and bounding down the hallway. “I’ll text you, love!” He calls, peering back just before he rounds a corner, “About that date!”
It’s 11:58 on the dot when he flings the basement door open, only to be pulled over to the same stupid dank basement wall, his back hitting it once more with a dull thud.
Glancing around, he sees the ski-masked boys again, all fifteen of them, standing in a row with the head boy slightly out of line. To his left stands one of the other initiates, clutching a black tube of some sort.
The basement stays silent for a moment before one of the masked boy’s watch alarms goes off just as the bells in the tower begin to chime.
Once, twice, all the way up to twelve. Noon.
Right on cue, the head boy steps forward even more and looks between Michael and the other initiate. “Your friend couldn’t be bothered to show his face, then?” He asks, dark eyes peering at the boy next to Michael.
He scoffs and shakes his head, glaring at the head boy. “He’s still at the bank!” He snaps, “All the way in bloody Switzerland,” he kicks at the dirty stone floor as he explains, “Dickhead,” he finally mutters lowly under his breath.
“Shame,” the head boy quips, clasping his hands in front of his waist, “Some men are simply not cut out for Bullingdon.”
The boys in the row behind him nod knowingly, each making some little noise of affirmation until the head boy quickly stops them, holding a fist up by his head, bringing it back down to his side when they shut up.
“So, initiates, what’ve you got?”
The boy next to Michael steps forward first and hands the black tube to the head boy with a sigh. “There,” he says, gesturing to it, “There’s your bloody map. My mum could get sacked for that.”
The head boy pops open one end of the tube, a document sleeve Michael now realizes, and gingerly extracts a rolled up piece of parchment from it, unrolling it just enough to confirm it's what they asked for.
“Well done, initiate,” he nods, seemingly impressed as he flashes a smile at the boy, white teeth gleaming creepily through the slit in his ski mask. Carefully, he rolls the document up again before sliding it back in the tube, “Your commitment to Bullingdon will take you far. Welcome to the fray.”
The boy stands still for a moment, eyeing the document tube with an almost regretful expression before curtly nodding and taking his place back against the wall.
“And then there was one,” the head boy murmurs, dark faze fixed on Michael, “I seem to remember we gave you quite the… interesting task indeed, initiate. How did you manage?”
Smiling damn near arrogantly, Michael all but skips up the head boy and proudly pulls your panties from his back pocket, letting them dangle from his index finger. “See for yourself.”
The head boy grabs them by the edge and studies them for a moment, turning back to the row of boys behind him with a questioning glance. The boy Michael knows already to be that cunt, Oliver Quick, glances between him, the panties, and Michael, before cutting a sideways glance to a tall boy standing next to him.
“These could be anyone’s,” the head boy says, turning back to Michael as he shakes his head, “You could’ve nicked them from your sister or something, we’ll need more than this, initiate.”
“Don’t even have a sister,” Michael quips, shrugging his shoulders with a little frown.
“Okay, like, your cousin or something then –”
“Don’t have a female cousin,” he says with a shake of his head, “All boys.”
“The point still stands!” The head boy finally snaps, making Michael bite the inside of his cheek to hide a little laugh, though the corner of his lips still quirks up in a smirk, “You haven’t got any proof, do you? Is that why you’re stalling?”
Huffing a little laugh, Michael finally lets himself smirk meanly and steps closer to the head boy as he pulls his phone from his pocket, flips it open, and navigates to his video gallery. “Is this enough proof?” He teases, pressing play on the most recent video.
The picture is small and grainy but there’s no doubt as to what’s happening as the sound of your pretty whimpers and moans echoes around the brick basement, along with the wet smack of Michael’s cock driving into you again and again.
The head boy stares at the screen still as curiosity gets to a few of the boys in the row behind him and they all come crowd around Michael’s phone, eyes widening behind their ski masks and mouths falling open.
The tallest one, the one Oliver keeps glancing at, lets out a long sigh as he peers down at the small screen and brings a hand up to his head as if he were going to run it through his hair before remembering the mask he has on. With him this close, Michael finally notices the little silver barbell stuck through his eyebrow and shivers as his lips curl up into a sadistic Cheshire cat smile, a tidal wave of savage pride crashing through his system.
Finally, fucking finally, I get something he wants, he thinks as your breathy moans continue to pour from the speaker of his phone, tinny and muffled in some spots where he’d accidentally covered the microphone, but beautiful, beautiful and because of him.
After a moment, the video ends, the tiny phone screen reverting back to it’s little thumbnail as the head boy peers up at Michael, the rest of the club members taking their places back in line, though he can’t help but notice that Felix’s broad shoulders are slumped now and Oliver stands ever closer to him, like some kind of fucked up bodyguard.
“I’ll be damned, initiate,” the head boy sighs with a shake of his head, “I really didn’t think you had it in you.”
He watches as Michael merely nods and pockets his phone again, holding it tightly in his fist even still. After a second, he smiles widely and claps a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
“Welcome to Bullingdon.”
Some time later, Michael finally exits the basement, a few of the club members, sans ski masks now, nodding goodbye to him as they disperse across campus, meeting adjourned.
He wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting from the initial meeting but it was mostly them prattling on about where exactly they had all their grubby little fingers, poked in seemingly every facet of society from Parliament to local newspapers.
Braggy cunts, Michael thinks as he ambles outside, glancing up at the sky as he steps into the Mob Quad, surrounded by stony old buildings.
Smiling to himself, he pulls out his phone and quickly finds your number in his contacts list, blushing when he sees you’ve taken the liberty of adding some girly heart emoticon next to it. He hardly has time to press it against his ear before you answer.
“Well?” You demand with that now familiar giggle, some unfamiliar pop song playing in the background.
“I’m in,” he confirms, nodding to himself as he slowly walks in the direction of his dormitory, “Thanks to you.” He smiles like an idiot when you laugh.
“Don’t sell yourself short, honey,” you tease, he can picture your bright, glossy smile in his head, “You earned that spot.”
Michael merely shakes his head with a happy little sigh. “So,” he starts, clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “About that date… I was thinking the King’s Arms? Tonight at six, if that works?”
“Oooh, tonight at six,” you repeat teasingly, an image flashing in his mind of you twirling your hair around a perfectly manicured finger, “Someone’s quite eager, hm?”
“Can you blame me?”
“Hmm, I suppose not,” you giggle, pausing for a second, “It’s a date then.”
“Fantastic,” Michael sighs, trying with every fiber of his being to sound casual and cool about the whole thing, even as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest.
“See you tonight, Mr. Bullingdon,” you tease, making a little kissy sound into the phone before hanging up.
Michael pauses for a moment, standing to the side on the pavement as he nods to himself. If it weren’t so fucking cheesy, he’d raise his fist in the air, victorious, à la Judd Nelson at the end of The Breakfast Club.
Instead, he flips his phone back open and navigates back to your video. Sighing, he stares at the little thumbnail for a second before deleting it, pocketing his phone once more, and continuing back to his dormitory.
He has the real thing now.
taggled lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
#michael gavey#michael gavey fanfiction#michael gavey fanfic#michael gavey smut#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x y/n#michael gavey x bimbo!reader#bimbo!reader#bimbocore#saltburn#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn fanfic#saltburn fic#saltburn smut#michael gavey fic#ewan nation#ewanverse#emerald fennell#ewan mitchell#my writing
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
That's a Wrap - One Shot
Pairing: Director!Natasha x Fem!Actor!Reader x Actor!Wanda (MINORS DNI - 18+)
Summary: You and Wanda can’t seem to get this scene right. With your director’s help, you manage.
MINORS DNI - 18+
Tags: Is Y/N in the room with us right now (They aren’t), Dom!Natasha, Switch!Wanda, Bottom!Reader. Dub-con, power dynamic (Director/Actor), voyeurism, degradation, praise, semi-public sex, semi-orgasm denial, light edging, objectification, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), strap-on use(R receiving), some pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling, ma’am, Tasha(For N), Wan/Wands(For W), Mommy(For W, used loosely)), Nat calls her strap her dick, semi-previous established relationship? Porn with plot, clothed sex, sextape, light aftercare, fluff at the end.
A/N: Welcome to the first issue of Smut Saturdays! Want to really create some good shit in this genre, so I'm posting at least one spicy fic every Saturday (if I can help it)! This came to me in a vision (called the five minutes before my math class)- After my last smut fic did well (An Important Lesson, Prof!Wanda x Reader, which you can read here), I thought I’d do some WandaNat practice! Not proofread, written in the span of an evening. This is a crime against intimacy coordinators, I’m so sorry. Asides over. Natasha wears a strap to her films and she can dick me down with it, please and thank you!
Word Count: 2.4k - Read Length: 8 minutes, 49 seconds.
~~~
It was never fun when the producers came by.
They’d always arrive in droves of two or three, never the top dog- as if Natasha’s ‘avant-garde chick flick’, as they called it, wasn’t worth their time. They certainly treated it as much. Today was the worst day for them to arrive, in pressed jackets and always on a phone call, because today you were filming the sex scene. It was more of a ‘romance’ scene, with alluring cinematography and enough passion to make your eyes fall out, yet you hadn’t even gotten to remove any clothes from your beautiful costar- Wanda. You knew she was incredible, her previous films as a fem fatale showing her dominant streak, however the spark couldn’t burn when interruptions from the suits kept happening. You weren’t on a porn set, and yet sometimes you wish you were. Might’ve been faster, or at least more fun.
“From the top,” A groveled voice muttered, Natasha’s steely gaze breaking into your skull- though a part of you wished she’d break your back. The redhead had always been an inspiration, one of the leading reasons for your participation in her project, besides her being so fine. But now, she looked pissed, worn down by hours of appeasing the producer’s half-baked suggestions and guarding you and Wanda from their prying eyes. “Yes Ma’am,” you replied, earning a slight chuckle from your director, the twinkle in her eye not lost on you- she was on her last legs, but it was yours and Wanda’s compliance that kept her going.
You’d return to your blocking, centered in the middle of your ‘apartment bedroom’, with Wanda’s hand placed gently on your waist. Your roles were lovers, reuniting after a long day of hardship, slowing down after it all. You’d stare up at her, the mild exasperation in your expression making her smile. She’d send a wink down to you, muttering something about being ‘bored too’, but ‘not hating kissing you again’, or the like. She’d invited you out to coffee tonight, and especially after a day like this, you’d take it. Perhaps you’d even forget the paparazzi and really kiss her as you’d been wanting to do this whole shoot. Throw a bone to the fanfiction writers and make their canon comply with reality. Maybe. It was Natasha’s words which startled you from your thoughts, a look of tenderness overcoming your face as you’d sink into your character, “Action!”
Within an instant, Wanda hiked her hands under the hem of your shirt, eyes darting down to your face. Her palms were warm against you, smooth against your soft skin, as your head rested gently on her shoulder. She’d tug at the fabric- and you’d send her a quick nod, smiling as you’d lean up to capture her lips in yours-
“Well that’s not very marketable!” A producer would crow, scoffing with both his hands outstretched towards the two of you. You’d freeze, feeling all of the passion drain out from the scene, no more than a shell of itself. His bald head wasn’t very marketable, looking like a morally dubious Mr. Clean- and yet you didn’t comment on it. He’d look at Natasha, the woman pinching the bridge of her nose with a stern sigh, and you gulped. Oh, shit. She was going to lose it. “Can’t you get their clothes off faster? Our focus groups won’t wait around for-”
“Fucking Christ, get- out!” Natasha shouted, a growl in her tone bringing heat to your face. She scowled, roaring to the surrounding suits, “Leave, get off my set- it’s my fucking turn to direct them.” Her hands would fan away their deer-in-headlights looks, ushering them out before locking the door. Her fiery gaze would bore into you then, jaw locked as her heels would click towards you and Wanda, many feet apart.
The two shared a knowing nod- And before you could speak, your director grabbed Wanda by her shirt collar and pulled her into a bruising kiss. Your jaw would drop as the brunette’s eyes widened, fluttering shut as Wanda moaned into the embrace- Natasha’s hands planted firmly on her tits. She’d squeeze them, earning a gasp from Wanda, your costar’s head swung back as Natasha swiped her thumbs across her nipples. Your director’s gaze would strike yours, and you understood why Wanda’s submission was so quick. You shuddered at the redhead’s gleaming smirk, her voice a husked whisper, “Get those clothes off and get on the bed for me, baby. Now.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply was instant, Natasha’s grin only widening as you’d shed your layers, kneeling on the mattress’s soft sheets. They were cold, goosebumps settling up your spine yet you wouldn’t move, eyes trained obediently on Natasha. You were so perfect for her.
Natasha’s mouth would return to Wanda’s, pressing her into the faux wall that had outlined the bedroom. Her hand would splay against Wanda’s stomach, and you saw how she hiked up the shirt there, continuing to palm her tits while unclasping Wanda’s bra with the other. She’d pepper kisses across the brunette’s neck, sucking hickeys the lower she’d go.
They’d part only so Wanda’s top could come completely off, your director keeping a claiming touch on Wanda’s hip as she’d look back at you over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, mused from Wanda’s hands slung loosely around her shoulders while her expression remained flushed, dark eyes darting down to the slick that pooled between your legs. Wanda’s voice would ring to you, almost reverent as her hips would stutter against Natasha’s, “She’s fucking drooling for us, Tasha..”
The redhead would bite back a smirk as she’d watch you twitch. You ached to touch them, yourself, anything- your hands already balled into fists on your thighs, legs rubbing together, desperate for friction. But neither had given the command, and you had an inkling from their hungry looks that they wanted you needy, right where they had you. Natasha’s rasp came second, “Then show her what I taught you.”
Wanda would reach you first, discarding the rest of her clothes in the process. Her hands trailed warm touches up your legs and to your chest, digging into your soft flesh as her lips would meet yours. It was explosive, sweet and tender yet with a ferocity that claimed you quickly, heating up your skin as her knee would slot between your thighs. You’d feel Natasha’s calloused fingers on the small of your back, the sinking of her weight in the mattress behind you, and her tone husked in your ear, “Stretch her out for me, Wan- like we practiced.” Your director’s words sent a buzz to your core, cunt grinding mercilessly into the sheets below as Wanda’s hand would trail there, dragging two fingers along your folds before arcing dazzling circles around your clit.
You’d eagerly press your hips into her touch, moaning lowly as she’d chuckle, “So wet for me, sweetheart…bet I can just slip right in.” She’d coax her fingers inside, your pussy walls taking her gladly as Wanda curled her digits against that spongy spot. Your back would arch, head growing fuzzy as you’d feel your slick drip down her hand. Her thumb would press into your clit as you’d buck your hips against her, cursing a quick “Fuck-” which was quickly swallowed up by Wanda’s mouth. She’d bite your lip, dragging it with her teeth as she’d settle into her rhythm, spare hand palming your tits with a rougher grasp, “Been waiting for this, haven’t you sweetheart- pretty whore, just for us.”
“Mhm, good girl just wants to be fucked, don’t you?” Natasha would grit, and you could see her stroking something behind your back. She’d unzipped her slacks- her strap heavy in her hand, glistening with the spit she’d gathered in her palm. Natasha bucked her hips against her hold, cursing as the cock’s base would rub against her clit. She looked incredible, sweat across her brow as her hand would clench around the toy, like she could feel it. “Keep going, Wands- want her perfect for my dick.”
Natasha would pant, breathing ragged as her hand moved in time with Wanda’s fingers- curling into you almost torturously, feeling your cunt clench around her. The brunette’s kiss would claim you again, moaning into her warmth as her thumb would circle your clit. She’d sigh almost lovingly, fondness overtaking her expression as your head found the crook of her neck, “She’s already perfect, Tasha-” She’d coo, although her hand wouldn’t stop, gasping at the squelching sound of her fingers up your cunt, “This pussy was made for us, darling.”
Their words and touch brought you so close, yet Wanda’s hands slowed down when she felt your legs quiver or your breathing seize up, never giving you what you needed. You’d squirm against Wanda, begging for more, a lingering touch, anything- “Please, Wan- I‘m so close,” You whined, earning a tut from your costar. She’d devour your pleas, lost to time as her mouth would reach yours, softer than before. You felt her sympathetic smile against you as she’d shake her head, locking eyes with Natasha’s heavy stare, “Not yet, sweetheart..It’s not my turn anymore.”
The redhead groaned when Wanda slid her fingers out of you, her fingers shimmering with your arousal. Your walls fluttered around nothing, aching for anyone’s touch as you felt Natasha’s rugged grasp on your hips, pulling you up and back so your pelvis was against hers. The strap had warmed in her hand, dragging between your legs. You were dripping for her, soft sparks of pleasure seizing you as her tip would brush against your clit. Her voice would thunder through you, almost delirious with her own need, “Fucking finally..want this pussy all to myself…”
Wanda would chuckle at that, your director kneading at your hips as Wanda’s thighs settled in front of your mouth, your arms propping yourself just above her soaked cunt. “We promised to share, Tasha..” She’d croon, face flushed and touch softer than Natasha’s as she’d cradle your face in her palms, “Such a pretty girl..are you ready for your reward, darling?” You nodded, a flurry of sensation hitting you all at once- Natasha’s strap sinking into you as the redhead would push your shoulder blades down, pressing your face between Wanda’s legs.
The stretch was incredible, the woman behind you vicious as she’d drive her dick into you, bottoming out as your mouth would be smothered against Wanda’s cunt. Each thrust would drive Wanda crazy, your gasps and whimpers vibrating right into her core, especially as you’d flat your tongue against her clit, suckling on the sensitive nub. Her thighs would threaten to shut on you, her stretched words lost in your pussydrunk haze, “Yes, like that sweetheart- such a good girl..-” Natasha would rock her hips into yours, pace bruising as she’d pull your thighs flush to hers. You’d hear her muffled curses as she’d bottom out again, sighing as if she could feel you clench around her. “Baby..fuck, so perfect for us…” Wanda’s hands would thread into your hair, anchoring her hold on you as she’d press your face further into her cunt.
The sight would echo a curse from Natasha’s mouth, her hips growing a little more erratic, “Fucking christ, she’s our perfect little whore, aren’t you baby-” You’d try to nod, moaning as Natasha’s hand would press further into your back, keeping you from moving an inch, “Don’t even think, baby- just fucking take it, fuck-”
Time would seem to slow, your brain fuzzing into blissful static as you’d feel Wanda’s thighs tremor around your head, her grip tightening as she’d see your body tremble in Natasha’s touch. “Come with me, sweetheart- be a good girl and come for Mommy.” Her saccharine words spurred you into a blinding release, your tongue working Wanda through her orgasm as your body quaked with your own. You’d feel Natasha follow shortly thereafter, cursing aloud as she’d pull herself out of you, watching as you’d clench around nothing. Her hands would immediately find your waist, bringing you gently up to kneel with your back against her clothed front.
Panting, your arms would shake as you’d catch your breath, leaning up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. You could feel both women’s eyes on you as you’d suckle on your fingers, cleaning up with an exaggerated moan, looking towards Wanda as you’d pop your hand out of your mouth, your words almost dreamy, “Mmm, so good, Wan..” You’d giggle as Wanda’s face would alight in blush, although the clink of metal and fabric drove you away from your teasing.
Natasha’s hands would be rushed as she’d pull her pants and harness down, eyes heavy with a lust that made you shudder, “Switch with me, Wands-” She’d grit, thrusting the strap in her general direction before settling calloused palms on your still quivering thighs, her gaze boring into yours, “It’s my turn for her mouth.”
Wanda’s smirk was immediate, sending you another sly wink, “Gladly.”
------------------------------------------
Unbeknownst to the three of you, the cameras had never stopped rolling. That film would never be seen by the public, kept hidden once you left the building. Not to say it couldn't be enjoyed by you three, though.
Natasha and Wanda took you out to coffee afterwards as the brunette had promised. They explained their prior agreement to ‘test the waters’ with you, Wanda working with Natasha on a plan to woo you both in and out of character. The date went well, although with much less lingering glances and more almost-fucking in the back of Wanda’s car afterwards. It was there that the public and paparazzi learned of your relationship, although their camera flash thankfully stopped any romance before it got good. You weren’t on a porn set, after all- and Wanda kept your half-nude form hidden while Natasha cursed out the press. All in a day’s work.
Unfortunately, the day’s work began anew the next day. Filming the romance scene was no difficult measure now, but Natasha’s grin and Wanda’s wandering hands blurred the lines of professionalism. The film crew couldn’t care less, a few of them- such as Kate, a script supervisor- mentioned how they knew it would happen eventually (and won a bet with Peter, who said it’d take until the award show for you three to get together).
However, once you three escaped into Natasha’s office for some ‘paperwork’ as she’d called it, it didn’t matter. They were yours, and that was enough.
~~~
#minors dni#wanda maximoff smut#wanda smut#wandanat smut#natasha romanoff smut#natasha smut#smut with plot#smut#actress wanda#wanda maximoff x fem!reader#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wandanat#mommy wanda#wandanat x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha x reader#female reader#fem reader#bearrrwrites
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
racer girl | lando norris
pairing: dad! Lando x wife! reader (+ their adorable little kiddo)
wc: 1.3k
genre: fluff
warnings: none
summary: Lando's more than apprehensive when his daughter wants to try karting for the first time, but luckily you're there to hold his hand through it all.
note: this fic is part of the racer girl collection but can also be read as a stand alone !
-----
The request came on the list your daughter, Piper, wrote for Santa, and as soon as you saw it you ran to go show your husband, Lando. “Go karting” was written in scraggly letters.
You had anticipated it to be a joyous event in the Norris household. None of you ever put any pressure on your daughter to follow in either of your footsteps, but the image of your little girl in a racing suit just like her daddy made you smile. You surprised Lando with the when you both were cleaning up after dinner, but the reaction you got is nothing like what you expected.
“She’s not going karting. End of story”
“It’s what she wants, Lan, and I think it makes perfect sense.”
“It’s TOO dangerous. That’s my little girl out there.”
You’ve never seen Lando look this serious in his life. He’s not being overdramatic or overzealous, but there’s a fire behind his eyes that tells you that he’s dead set on this.
“Do you think your mother was ecstatic when she found out her son was in love with one of the most dangerous sports in the world? Probably not, but she let you do it anyway. Because you loved it, and who knows, maybe Piper’s gonna love it like her daddy.”
This is why Lando loves you. You're always realistic and you keep him grounded while he floats away into overthinking on situations like this.
“I guess I’m just scared for her,” Lando says more quietly, taking a seat on the couch and curling in on himself. You’re quick to join him and cuddle into his side.
“You’ve seen what I’ve been through Y/N - the training, the crashes, the missed birthdays and weddings, the mental toll, how can you still say you want her to do this knowing all of that?”
You sigh as you take Lando’s hands in yours. You rub your thumb over the back of his hands while you ask him your next question.
“Looking back, do you regret anything, Lan? Would you give up racing entirely if you had the chance to start all over again?”
He shakes his head in denial instantly, and you can see the wheels turning in his head as you lay with one another.
“We’re not committing to her becoming a Formula 1 driver, babe. She just grew up seeing her daddy do this really cool thing and wants to give it a try, and I don’t think it’s the worst thing if we let her.”
Lando buries himself further into your neck and he mumbles his next words. “Our little girl is growing up, isn’t she?”
You don’t reply back with your words, but Lando understands you perfectly as you cuddle further into his side.
- - - - - -
It’s a rare instance when Lando tosses you the keys to drive to the track. He protects his McLaren like it’s his second child, but from the way his knee is bouncing in the passenger seat you know that he’s in no state to drive. It’s a perfectly mild cloudy day, yet Lando is wearing these ridiculous wide rimmed sunglasses that you can only assume he found in a hurry while foraging through your shared bathroom. While you may not tease him much for it since you know they’re covering his teary eyes, your daughter is still just as merciless and cheeky as her father usually is. Lando teaches her the word “allergies” on the drive down as he’s coming up with excuses for his sniffly state.
When Piper first gets a helmet, she runs right past you to get her daddy to put it on her. She’s serious when she tells him not to make it “tew tight”, but Lando’s hands are shaking so much that he can hardly get the buckles done up anyways. She barely spares you both a second glance and Lando has to pull her back to give her a quick kiss on the helmet before she goes off. You both wrap her in your embrace and give her a squeeze until she’s telling you it’s time to let go, and Lando only gets halfway through his dad talk of “we can leave at any time if you get scared and I’m gonna be standing right here supporting you” before she’s already dashing away again. Piper is barely going past a crawling speed in the kart but something about the sight tugs at your heart. You’re used to this feeling, watching half your heart racing away while you’re on the sidelines, but you realize this is the first time Lando’s been in this position instead of being the one in the car. You reach for his hand and hold it tight as you lay your head on his shoulder. You two had so many “firsts” with your daughter: first steps, first time you left her at home, first words, and so much more, but none of them compared to this feeling of watching her karting for the first time.
The first time Piper bumps into a wall Lando says that he thinks he’s gonna throw up and you have to almost physically hold him back from running out there to her. Once you see a big thumbs up from your daughter to confirm she’s okay, the whole situation earns a little giggle from you and you reply back with Lando with “imagine instead of going into the wall at 3km/h it’s actually 313km/h and you’re watching the father of your children crash.”
Lando’s never seen your point of view before like this. You spent years on the paddock as the worried girlfriend, then as the worried fiance, then as the worried wife, and then finally as the worried pregnant wife (probably the worst situation of all since you were already nauseous anyways). You never once pushed him into retiring for the sake of your family - you could see the joy the sport brought him and he always appreciated your respect for that. He thinks having to watch on the sidelines might be even harder than actually being on the track, and he looks at you with a newfound appreciation for your strength as you cheer on your daughter.
“Thank you.” Lando whispers to you with a little crack in his voice.
It’s more than a thank you for convincing him to let Piper do this - it’s a thank you for supporting him all these years, through all the ups and downs of his racing career. You only hold onto him tighter as a response, pulling out your phone too to capture the moment. Whether Piper continues in motorsport or not, you know this is a moment that you’ll both treasure forever.
That night Piper begs for you both to put on the home video of Lando’s first karting win while she eats her supper. You’ve never seen your daughter this happy before, and you know from the look on Lando’s face that he thinks the same. It’s only after she retells her experience in karting from start to finish for the 4th time over that you’re able to finally bargain with her to go to sleep. Her one concession is that she sleep with her helmet in her bed, an action that brings the tears right back to the forefront of Lando’s eyes since that was something he did as a kid too.
“Our baby girl is going to be the first ever female driver in formula 1” he cooes as you both stand at the foot of her bed. “Typical Lando” you call out, not surprised one bit that he’s gone from banning his daughter from stepping foot into a kart to imagining her future in motorsport history all within the span of a couple of days. You have to slow him down before he starts going off on a tangent about the best places to train and the moments he can’t wait for her to experience in the sport. But at the end of the day you’re so happy that Lando came around on this (an “i told you so” or two sometimes slip out when the topic comes up), and you know that it’s going to be a fun journey being karting parents for as long as Piper wants to do so.
----
author's note: this was such a fun one to write <3 you'll probably see a lot more dad! Lando on my page in the future! If you have any dad! Lando scenarios (or any scenarios really) that you want me to write, feel free to drop them in my ask box! Until next time <3 - Em
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#ln4#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#mclaren f1#lando fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fluff#formula 1#lando imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?
Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader
Words count: 1.9k
Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!
Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Keep you safe
One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.
Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.
Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.
"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.
He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.
But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.
"What are you reading?"
When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.
"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.
"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."
"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.
Y/n put her homework on the table.
"Read it and tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong, I just-"
"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."
"Right."
Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.
"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.
"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."
"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"
"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"
"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."
"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."
"You got yourself into this, could've said no."
"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.
"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."
"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"
Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.
Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.
Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.
Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."
"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."
And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.
"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."
"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"
"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."
He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."
"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."
"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."
"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."
"Care to share what happened?"
"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.
They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.
"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."
"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."
"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."
"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."
"And why's that?"
Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.
"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"
Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.
Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.
Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.
It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.
"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.
"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."
"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."
"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."
"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.
The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.
"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."
Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.
"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."
Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.
"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"
"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."
The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.
"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."
"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.
"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."
The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.
Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.
"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."
"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."
Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."
Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.
Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.
#Theo Nott#theodore nott#slytherin boys#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#harry potter x reader#harry potter fanfic#theo nott fanfic#Lorenzo Zurzolo
1K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
withoutteamalice
if my room was a blog it'd look something like this
pm-my-hubbies
Sweet Fantasy
evip88li
Untitled
anniewhovian
Full-time chaos
maryjuliestuff-blog
Untitled