✧･ﾟ: *

But let’s stop there for a second.

Now, you must be wondering, how the hell did I get myself into this situation? How did you manage to get the two hottest idols working in the industry wrapped around your fingers? How did you get the world’s two straightest men to toss their sexuality aside under your command?

Let’s go back in time, shall we?

***

Three months ago, you were just a normal college student—just as broke, just as tired, just as single. And frustrated. In more ways than one—no, perhaps even in every way. You were doing okay with your grades but other than that? You were screwed. You barely had any friends, you got family issues just like any other teen out there, and what’s worst was that you needed money to pay for your college tuition fee, otherwise you couldn’t graduate. And you didn’t just spend three years in that shithole just to not graduate in the end.

So, obviously, you started looking for a job. You were ready to take a late-night shift at a local diner when your phone rang. It was truly a blessing, you thought, when your aunt’s name showed up on the screen. “Are you free this summer?” She queried with nothing but weariness in her voice. You felt sorry, sure, but her being that exhausted only meant one thing: money. “I could really use your help.”

Your aunt was a manager, hired by CMN Entertainment. What did she manage? Idols.

Ever since three years ago, she had been working together with CMN’s latest rising star—a talented group called AXIS. You’d seen them enough on TV, though you wouldn’t call yourself a fan, at least not a hardcore one. You felt like it was too old for you to drool over cute boys dancing to electronic pop music. And their merchandises were also expensive as fuck. You weren’t ready to live the hard life of being a fangirl.

“My body literally can’t take it anymore,” she sighed. “I got offers from a lot of people, begging the boys to do interviews with them, or perform on their shows, or drink some questionable sodas for these damn summer commercials. I need to deal with all the meetings. Not to mention I have to arrange their schedules too. Every member has their own gigs now and I am losing my mind.”

You smiled, seemingly sweet but utterly wicked. “And how may I help you?”

“Can you be my assistant? I need you to take care of the boys, just for three months. Once the summer ends, they won’t be as busy as they are now so you can leave if you want to. It’s really simple. You just have to get their coffees, order food for them, deliver their costumes, and drive them places. And just, you know, do what they ask you to do.”

Now, that didn’t sound so bad at all, did it? The payment was good, and you’d get to return to your dorm by the end of summer. Three months with four cute boys who wore sexy outfits on the stage. This should be fun, you giggled, almost evilly in your head. They seemed so kind and adorable when you saw them on TV, always smiling during their concerts, treating their fans like they were friends during fan meetings. Out of all the boybands that were working in the industry right now, AXIS was one of the very few groups that seemed genuinely humble.

So when you strolled inside the building of CMN Entertainment, you had the biggest smile plastered on your face. You were so excited to begin your friendship with four young celebrities whose popularity was escalating quickly not just within the country, but overseas too. You felt proud and lucky, but mostly proud. By the end of this job, you would totally brag about it non-stop to your friends. Hell, you’d probably even gloat about it to the next stranger you met on the street. “Guess who’s the lucky bitch who gets to see AXIS’ bare faces in the morning? Me.” It may sound a bit creepy, but it would be a great conversation starter, nonetheless.

Within a matter of three days, however, you realized that fun was not the right term. Torture was more like it.

Eren Jaeger, Jean Kirstein, Armin Arlert, Marco Bodt. You weren’t sure why the hell did they choose the word AXIS to be their group name, but it was clearly not an acronym for their names. They were the boys you had to assist for about ninety days from now. But you weren’t their assistant. You were their fucking slave.

Now, to be fair, Armin and Marco—these two were truly sweethearts. They greeted you with a smile the second you were introduced to them by your aunt—who left hurriedly to take a call after saying literally three lines. When you offered Armin your hand, he took it and reciprocated with the warmest, teddy bear hug you had ever received from a boy. Marco had the cutest freckles on his face, and he laughed wholeheartedly when you told him that you thought those were just make-up to make him seem unique. “You’re brutally honest, aren’t you?” he spoke fondly. He bent his head down so you could take a closer look, even let you poke his cheek if you wanted to.

They whipped out their phones, typing down your numbers in their emergency contact list. You saw Armin adding a smiley emoji after your name and when he saw you noticing, he blushed a little. “I do that to all my friends’ names,” he explained diffidently. “It makes me feel less awkward whenever I have to call them. Is it weird?”

You mirrored his smile. “I do the same thing. But instead of adding emojis, I just create nicknames for them.”

“Oh, then create one for me!” His cerulean eyes lit up beautifully. You were the same age as the boys, but Armin seemed five years younger.

Marco slung his arm around his shoulders, chiming in, “Me too, me too.”

“Sure.” You beamed. “Then Armin will be Bambi, ‘cause you’re literally a sweet, gentle baby deer in human form, I won’t even argue about it. And you,” you gestured toward the other boy, “You will be Freckles.”

Marco scrunched his nose cutely. “Why do I always get the most obvious, boring nickname out there?”

“Fine, then you’ll be Mini Santa.”

Not soon after, you proceeded to do your first job: bring them their coffees. When you asked about their orders, Armin and Marco simply answered with, “Iced Americano, please?” and “A mochaccino would be great, thank you.” They made their requests politely with a smile, genuinely thanking you for the inconvenience. You felt warmth spreading in your chest. They were angels.

But the other two boys. Now, they were the devils. No, they are the most atrocious, vile, infuriating little cacodemons who, somehow, managed to crawl their ways up from the deepest pit of hell. Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein. Honest to God, there had been no men—or women—in your life that had ever tested on your patience this much over the course of thirty minutes.

Their looks were out-worldly, that was the initial thought that entered your mind when you saw them in person for the first time. You had always thought that they were handsome, but when you saw them in real life, they were ethereal. Eren had the greenest, prettiest eyes you had ever seen in a man. Not that you had seen a lot of men, but your point still stood. His dark brown hair looked so soft—probably softer than a baby’s ass, for the lack of a better metaphor—and his eyelashes were long, beautifully so. If it wasn’t because of his strong, masculine jawlines, his high cheekbones, and obviously, the thing hanging between his legs, he could’ve passed as a woman. He could’ve passed as a woman and could be prettier than you.

You remembered that his hair used to be long enough to cascade down to his shoulders, but his hairstylist recently did something new. They have trimmed his strands just a little that the ends of his locks fall just a couple of inches below his jawlines. He still wore it in a bun, every now and then, as it was his iconic look. People even started calling it “The Jaeger” when they went to the barbershop, hoping to copy his style but ended up looking like acorns in the end. None of them could sport a bun as hot as he did.

He was the Visual of The Group, their fans called him as if that was a real position. He was AXIS' lead dancer, talented enough for his skills to be praised by popular choreographers around the world. The company made him the center of attention, always dressing him in the sexiest, questionable outfits on stage—sometimes, even more revealing than what Beyonce would wear. One time, he wore a crop top with a leash wrapped around his neck and silver chains circling his waist and he broke the internet. His name trended on Twitter for three consecutive days with hundreds of thirst tweets popping up every hour. Now, with the new haircut and the simple, black hoodie he was wearing, he seemed more boyish than sexy, which was a nice, fresh change. There was no way you’d think someone who looked as sweet as Eren Jaeger would turn to be incarnate of Lucifer himself.

Let’s move on to the other fiend: Jean Kirstein. He was tall. You’d never seen an asshole this gigantic in your twenty-one years of living. He was stunning, all of them were, but Jean reeked with so much masculinity, he was basically a walking version of Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent—the manliest fragrance out there, no doubt. He had a mullet, which you thought was a fashion disaster at first but this man… Damn. He rocked that hairstyle like Elvis Presley had rocked his. You could tell that he could grow a beard if he wanted to, but he shaved his stubbles every day to make him look younger on the screen (because if he had sported a beard, he'd probably look like Armin's dad and no one wanted to be mistaken dancing to sexy routines on the stage with their son).

Armin and Marco were the lead and main vocals of the group, while Jean was their leader. He was the one in charge during interviews and press conferences, but that was not all. What he was truly in charge of was being sexy. It felt dumb if you said it out loud as there was no such position, but he was. The company designed him to be that way. Eren seduced his audience with his sexy expressions—or his dangerous hip thrusts—on the stage, but he had never taken his shirt off for fanservice (as he was already barely wearing any, to begin with, but that was not the point). The point was, Jean did that every fucking time. If he was wearing a button-up shirt, he would rip it open by the end of the song. If he was wearing a normal shirt, he would still rip it open by the end of the song—maybe even from the start if he was having a good day. You read once on the internet that a thirteen-year-old girl brought her mother to see their concert, and she was dragged home by her ear as soon as Jean turned the show into his personal strip club. You weren’t even remotely surprised. You just hoped you were there to see it live.

Eren and Jean didn’t even bother to remember your name. When you introduced yourself, the brunette yawned, slouching on his swivel chair. Jean, who sat on his opposite, was busy smirking at his phone, probably looking at the nudes his groupies sent him. But it was okay. You didn’t think too much about it. You were shocked, sure, especially after the cordial treatment you had received from Armin and Marco, but you wouldn't hold a grudge against them.

“I’m heading to the coffee shop, do you guys need anything?” You asked them with a smile. Back then on your first day, you hadn’t known any better. You thought they were going to give their answers as simple as Armin and Marco did. So when Eren sank further into his chair, crossed his legs, and propped his cheek on his knuckles as he stared flatly at you, you didn’t think his answer would be, “An iced Ristretto, ten shot, venti, with breve, five pump vanilla, seven pump caramel, four Splenda, and poured, not shaken.”

You blinked your eyes, staring dumbly. “Sorry, what?”

He sighed, looking like giving out his order was the most exhausting job a man had ever had to do. “If you still need me to repeat this one more time, I’m gonna have to tell the manager to get me another assistant because you suck at your job.”

You staggered, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry.”

“Eren,” Armin scolded him. You noticed that whenever Armin was upset, he looked like an angry toy poodle. “That’s not nice.” Eren returned his chastise with a groan, while the blonde-haired boy sent you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Eren has severe mood swings in the morning. You’ll get used to it, I hope?”

“Or you can just quit,” Jean offered, giving you a once-over. “I mean, you’re pretty, but so do hundreds of other girls who would die to get this job. If you can’t even get our coffees right, then maybe you should walk away.” Without giving you a chance to debate his words, he rose from his chair. He walked closer, towering above you as he stood before you. Fuck, you thought, he does smell like Kouros by Yves Saint Laurent. Only ten times better. He trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, angling your face upward as he raked his eyes over your features. “Unless,” he murmured, his lips curving up in a waggish grin, his eyes ricocheting to your lips. “There’s something else you’re good at?”

His breath fanned your skin, and you knew just how many of your friends would turn to puddles if they were in your shoes. But you were not one of them. No matter how attractive he was, or how good he smelled (like camphorous eucalyptus and tart bergamot, spreading out in cool waves on the skin, goddamn) you would never allow a man to talk to you like that.

You swatted his hand away, not too harshly—‘cause, unfortunately, your life literally depended on this job—but enough to leave him dumbfounded. “I’ll get them right,” you said through gritted teeth. “May I have your order, Mr. Kirstein?”

Jean loved it. He loved the fire in you. “Iced venti caramel macchiato,” he said, and you hurriedly rummaged your bag, searching for your phone to type down his order. “Fifteen pumps vanilla syrup, made with heavy whipping cream, barely any ice, one shot, add whip, and extra caramel drizzle.”

Your thumbs were running like wildfire on the screen, trying to keep up with him. There must have been something you missed but you knew if you asked him to reiterate his order, he would mock you non-stop about it. So, you didn’t.

You turned your head to Eren. “And you, Mr. Jaeger?”

Eren’s eyes were half-lidded, filled with boredom. “Venti vanilla latte, nonfat milk—”

“Wait, that doesn’t sound like what you ordered before. I thought you were ordering Ri… stretto…” Your voice faltered, noticing that he was this close at snapping at you again. “Right, sorry. It’s your drink, you can order whatever you want to—anyway, what was it again?”

You returned twenty-six minutes later carrying four tall cups of coffee in one hand, and a bag of sandwiches and blueberry muffins in the other. They didn’t ask for the food but you thought their show was going to start in an hour and you weren’t sure if they had breakfast yet (yes, despite your cheeky attitude, you did have a soft heart for these boys Armin and Marco). You hurriedly marched back into their waiting room, a thin layer of sweat coating your temple. “Okay, so one mochaccino for Bambi.” You handed Armin his cup with a smile, still somewhat breathless after all the running you did. “One iced americano for Freckles.”

“I thought it was Mini Santa.”

“Right. Mini Santa. Sorry.” You grinned, giving him his drink. Marco and Armin exchanged silent messages as they locked their stares, making you frown. “W-what is it? Did I do something wrong?”

They switched their drinks. “Nothing,” they both said and you smacked yourself on the forehead.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grimaced. “You ordered the simplest thing and I still mixed up your names.”

But these boys just simply laughed it off. “Please, it’s just coffee,” Armin tittered, “And believe me, a lot of people got it wrong too. I think it’s partially because I look like this that they’d expect me to favor something sweeter.”

“And I look mature enough to not have a sweet tooth, but I do.” Marco patted your head like how a big brother would do. “Take it easy, shorty. No need to apologize.”

“Okay,” you breathed out in relief. “I swear, I’ll be better next time.” You focused back on the last two drinks. “All right. Venti vanilla latte, nonfat milk, whipped cream, seven Splendas; six mixed in, one sprinkled on top of the whipped cream—” You stopped to take a breath. “—to make it crunchy.” Just reading his order out loud almost left you wheezing. You didn’t want to remember the funny look the barista gave you when you described it to them. “For Mr. Eren Jaeger.” You offered him his cup with two hands, dramatically bowing your head as low as possible as you did it. “Here you go, My Lord.”

Armin giggled at your antic but Eren took his drink without a word, and unlike Marco who immediately took a sip of his coffee to show his gratitude, Eren left it abandoned on his desk, simply returning to his phone, yawning again.

You let out a harsh breath, reminding yourself to be patient. You read Jean’s order next, but before you could finish, you found him snickering at you. You stopped, almost throwing ice daggers at him with your eyes if you hadn't been careful. “Is there something funny, Mr. Kirstein?”

Jean stood up from the couch, placing his phone in the back pocket of his jeans as he made his way toward the door. When he walked past you, he laid a hand on your head, “I don’t drink coffees, Sweetheart. Might want to do some research before you take the job.” And he left.

You thought Lord was testing you, but He hadn’t even begun.

The first month was absolute torment. You thought it was because you were still adjusting to your new work environment and their personalities, but no, you were certain that it was because Eren and Jean did not understand the difference between your office hours and your leave-me-the-fuck-alone time. Your working hours were inconsistent, fluctuating based on their schedule and that was okay as you had been informed from the start. But you were paid to assist them for only forty hours a week. And with the way it was going, that was not the case.

It was two in the fucking morning when your phone vibrated under your pillow. With bleary eyes and the biggest scowl your face had ever formed in your life, you checked on your screen. Devil Incarnate #2 was calling you.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Jean’s gravelly voice echoed from the other line. He still hadn’t remembered your name, alternating to calling you with endearing terms—like Sweetheart or Darling—but always in a slightly degrading way. Sometimes, like right now, he did it flirtatiously, which felt kind of icky to you. But most of the time, he was just downright irritating. “I’m glad you picked up. Were you sleeping?”

“Oh, no, I was chatting with your mom. She’s awfully close with Eren, don’t you think? Might be a little too close, if you know what I mean.”

The smirk in his voice vanished almost instantly. “That’s not funny.”

“Please tell me this is not a booty call. I don't plan on castrating someone this early in the morning."

He chuckled. “There’s no need for that, I already have one sucking on my dick right now. Literally.” You could hear him turning away slightly from the phone, praising, “Yes, darling, you’re doing such a great job. Close your mouth around the tip for Daddy? Mmm, yeah, just like that.” He returned to his phone. “You’re still there?”

“Only physically.” If you weren’t too tired, you would’ve made a thorough plan on how to dump his dead body in the sewer. “Why are you calling again?”

“I need you to run to the store and grab me some condoms.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me, Jean.”

“Is that the way to speak to your employer?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You gotta be fucking kidding me, Mr. Kirstein.”

“Yeah, ah, that’s more like it,” he moaned. You frowned, vomit rising to your throat when Jean quickly added, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Oh, thank God. Never been so scared in my life before.”

“I don’t even know if you’re amusing or annoying.”

“Well, I do have my charm.”

You could imagine him rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I’m gonna need two condoms. No, three. Actually, four, you can’t be too careful. You know what, why don’t you just grab me a dozen of those. Oh, also, try different flavors too. They dig it.”

“They?”

“Yeah, I got another one coming over in about ten min—Hey, there you are! You’re early. Wait, baby girl, Daddy’s on the phone. Why don’t you get yourself all ready and wet for me, yeah?” The seduction and thrill in his voice returned to his previous grumble when he spoke to you. “You’re still there?”

“Honestly, I don’t know if I am. Feel like my soul just left my body.”

“You can do that after you get my condoms. You know which one to buy, right?”

“Glyde Slimfit? Tiny condom for tiny dick?”

“For your boyfriend, maybe,” he sneered. “No, darling. Durex XXL.”

“Bullshit.” You snorted loudly. “What are you, a horse? There’s no way you have a cock that huge.”

“Would you like to see for yourself, Sweetheart?”

“Jesus—” You ended the call, so tempted at throwing your phone against the wall but you remembered that you were broke. The digital clock on your nightstand showed it was 02.24 am, and the building they were staying in was fifteen minutes drive away from your apartment, but that was not the problem. How did the line, “And just, you know, do what they ask you to do,” turn into you, a single girl who hadn’t had sex in such a long time, running to Seven Eleven to buy a dozen of extra-large condoms at two in the morning?

So that was Devil Incarnate number 2. Let’s go to Devil Incarnate number 1.

Within the first week of working, you soon realized that Eren liked to call you with the most random nicknames he could come up with, and it’d always differ from time to time. If he had something sweet during breakfast, he’d call you Pancake or Muffin. If he had seen a bird flying near his window that day, he’d call you Tweety. He’d called you Fluffy during your fifth day of work, and you thought he was referring to your hair—you did style it that way that day. But when you asked him about it, he just scoffed and said, “No. I just thought you look like my dog. Her name’s Fluffy.”

“Oh, so you own a Shih Tzu?”

“No. A pug.”

Armin wasn’t kidding when he told you Eren had severe mood swings. He could be cold and bitter in the morning, and all bright and smiley by lunch. But happy Eren did not always mean pleasant-to-be-around Eren, you learned. When he was stressed out, he'd always turn into his broody-vampire mode, just basically seething and glaring at everyone around him. You literally could just breathe a little louder than usual and he would tell you to shut the fuck up, people in China could hear you. But as Armin said, you had to get used to it and you did. You had the patience of a saint, it turned out. What you couldn’t get used to was when he was happy.

Because happy Eren meant flirty Eren and flirty Eren meant danger.

It wasn’t like you were attracted to bad boys—or what’s the term people use these days? Fuck boys? Anyway, no, you were twenty-one years old. You were a mature woman. You weren’t looking for a boyfriend; you wanted to find someone you could settle down with. But when Eren showed up out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and landing his chin on your shoulder as he whispered, “Hey, Muffin,” right next to your fucking ear, what the hell were you supposed to do?

Not blushing, that was for sure. “Please don’t touch me, ” you uttered, keeping your voice—and your everything else—composed.

This wasn’t the first time he flirted with you but it was the first time he touched you. A month had passed and he had never even shaken your hand once—not even during your first meeting. And then here he was, embracing you from behind like a boyfriend you hadn’t had for months. You couldn’t deny the way your heart was racing, but at least you kept your face controlled.

“Hmm…” He purred. His husky voice was so pleasing to hear, not that you would admit it out loud. “Why not?”

“Because we’re in public and this is highly inappropriate.” Saying the word public might be an exaggeration as there were only two of you in the dressing room at the moment. The door was open, though, so if anyone was passing the hallway, they would notice. The other boys had left to wait near the backstage, doing a final check on their microphones before the show started.

“So, you’re saying it’s okay to do this,” he hugged you just a little bit tighter. “If we were alone?”

“Keep your hands off me or I swear to God, I’ll punch your pretty face.”

“Ah, so you think I’m pretty. Why am I not surprised?”

You really did throw a punch. He was just fast enough to dodge it. Eren giggled, breaking away from you. At this point, he was well-adjusted to the snarkiness in your attitude, or your little—but deadly—punches. He moved to lean his back against the wall, observing you with natural temptation in his eyes, hands buried in the pocket of his pants. He was dressed handsomely in his stage outfit. They were doing a James Bond concept for their new comeback single, so he no longer had to wear revealing clothes on the stage at least for a month from now. But somehow, the sight of him wearing a three-piece black suit and matching leather gloves, made you feel even more… arou—

Okay, let’s not go there, you mentally slapped yourself. “Why aren’t you backstage?”

“I was but then I noticed you weren’t there. So, I came here to check on you.” He tilted up his chin, smirking. “Wouldn’t want my favorite assistant to get hurt. Or seduced by another man.”

“Hmm, how very chivalrous of you,” you muttered blankly, keeping yourself busy with your phone. It wasn't just a way to avoid him, though. You had to learn their schedules for the rest of the week to avoid making mistakes. “Well, Mr. Jaeger, I can assure you that no one in this building would find me attractive so you can run along and return to the stage now. You need to perform in twenty minutes.” You sighed wearily when you realized that you hadn’t picked up their outfits for tomorrow’s photoshoot. “I need to make a call.” You made your way to the door, about to exit the room when Eren clamped his fingers around your wrist, stopping you.

“I think you’re wrong,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“When you said no man would find you attractive, I think you’re wrong.” His lips twitched up in a delicate smile, and he seemed so innocent, like a little boy facing his first crush. “I think you’re smart. You’re adorably annoying and annoyingly adorable at the same time.” When he chuckled, it sounded sheepish. His hand slid down from your wrist to your fingers, gently playing with them with his own. He watched the way they brushed, his face was unguarded. “And I think you’re beautiful.” He looked up at you from behind his bangs. “Especially your eyes, they’re… They’re breathtaking.”

You swallowed. Okay, what the fuck is going on? “That is the most cliche pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”

He tipped his head cutely to the side. “I was just being honest, though?”

Your eyes glanced briefly at the part where your skin touched his. You had become way more conscious of it than you were supposed to. You exhaled heavily. “What did I say about keeping your hands away from me?”

“Listen, I want to apologize,” he voiced, sounding unfamiliarly solemn. “For the way I’ve been behaving these last few weeks. I’ve been… I haven’t been in a very good mood lately.”

“Yeah.” You noticed how he still hadn’t let you go, but you let him be. “You've got the emotional range of a pregnant woman. No offense to any preggos out there.”

He laughed quietly, slowly releasing his hold from you. He seemed… pensive. Uncertain. Distraught. “Is something the matter?” You asked, unconsciously rubbing your skin right at the part where he touched you before.

Eren didn’t reply right away, contemplating his answers. “Do you want to, um…” He rubbed his nape, not meeting your gaze. “I don’t know, like, go somewhere together tonight? We can go get some coffees or something.”

“And I have to stand right next to you as you make the world’s most vexing order at Starbucks? No, thanks.”

“Hey, come on.” He pouted, batting his eyelashes at you. Eren took a step forward and you moved back in response, stopping only when you had your backside pressed against the wall. “I’m trying to make it up to you here,” he said, taking another stride until his body was standing only an arms reach away from you. “Can you at least give me a chance?” He was going with that so-called puppy look. You knew its power and you would not let yourself succumb to it.

You averted your gaze. “Actually, now that I thought about it,” you replied, “It would’ve been less embarrassing to stand next to you as you tell them your order compared to having me tell them your order.”

He grinned, his crooked teeth showing. “So, is that a yes?”

“No.” You snorted, but who were you kidding? “I mean, yes. Whatever. I’ll swing by your building at seven. I have to give you your outfits for tomorrow anyway.”

“Perfect.” He leaned in and pecked your cheek before you could even register his actions. “I’ll see you at seven, Muffin.”

When he left, taking hasty steps as he headed toward backstage, you found yourself staring at his back. He tossed you a look over his shoulder, grinning when he realized you were staring and you felt your cheeks burn.

Fuck.

***

Okay, so remember when Eren asked you to “get some coffees” to “make it up to you” six hours ago? That was bullshit.

“I think we’re cool,” he told you, sitting right next to you in the car, checking on his surroundings using the rearview mirror. He wore his hair down, wearing all black from head to toe in an attempt to not stick out like a sore thumb. “Seems like we’re not being followed.”

You were perched on your driver’s seat, hands on the steering wheel, feeling absolutely humiliated. “Jaeger.”

“Yeah, Bunny?”

“Bunny?”

“What, it’s the year of the rabbit.”

You punched him hard on the shoulder. Once, twice, three times until he groaned and caught your fist with one hand. “Hey, easy on the hands there. I’m not a punching bag!”

“You’re a trash bag, that’s what you are!” You beat him again with your other hand, right on his chest. “I can’t believe you tricked me into driving you to a bar so you can just hook up with some chick!”

“Bunny,” he chortled, seemingly having the time of his life, that asshole. “You didn’t think I was actually asking you on a date, did you?”

Yeah, okay, that sounds fair. It was all your fault. See, this? This is the power of his puppy eyes. “You’re a dick.”

“A dick who’s about to dick a pretty chick.” He had the audacity to throw a wink at you. “I won’t be long, I promise. I’m not that evil.”

You scoffed loudly. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, I promise.” He landed a kiss on your knuckles before he released your hand. “I’ll behave tonight. For you.” You didn’t want to say it felt like your heart just skip a beat because you’d rather die than admit it, but yes, it certainly felt that way.

“Oh, shut up, Jaeger, you’re about to sleep with a girl on my watch. This thing you’re doing—this—” You gesticulated. “That smirk, those puppy eyes, and that little kiss you just did on my hand—none of them worked on me, okay? None.”

"Yeah, sure." He imitated your earlier response, only flirtatiously.

“Step out of my car. I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Yes, I can. It's my car.”

“And what do you think the press is going to say when they find out Eren Jaeger, the handsome lead dancer of AXIS, leaving a questionable pub at one in the morning, taking a cab alone?”

You stared back, blatantly judging him. “Did you seriously just call yourself handsome?”

“Am I wrong?”

Lord— “Fine. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“Thirty.”

“Fifteen.”

“Forty-five.”

“Why are you increasing your—that is not how bargaining works!”

“Give me forty-five minutes and I’ll make a minute-long special video for your birthday,” he offered, followed shortly by that godforsaken smirk. “Think about it. You’ll get Eren Jaeger of AXIS congratulating you on your birthday. Think about the power you’re going to have over your friends.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, couldn't help but feel tempted. “You’re literally Lucifer.”

“Lucifer as in that DILF from TV show Lucifer? Why, thank you.”

“Oh my God, just get out!” You shoved him away harshly by the shoulders. Cackling, Eren wore his black baseball cap and his mask, stepping out of your car with his hands sticking inside the pockets of his jacket. “Thirty minutes, Jaeger!”

“See you in fifty, Bunny.”

***

You waited for a whole. damn. hour.

Funny how despite all of that bargaining you did, you still waited for him inside your car at two in the morning, parked on the side of the road in front of a sleazy bar called Swanky Bubbles. But you know what was funnier? The fact that you had to barge in inside this sleazy bar (which literally smelled like sex, smoke, and—oh my God, is that a used condom on the table?!), wearing your favorite red dress and slingback heels (you still couldn’t believe you thought you were going on a romantic date with this fleabag. Have you been single for so long that you became that desperate?), and went to the men’s bathroom (because if he was going to fuck a girl, that would be the spot, right? Not that you’d ever done it or anything) only to find out:

“Ah, fuck, look at that dripping fucking cunt, you naughty little—”

Eren stopped mid-sentence, his green eyes were almost black when they met yours in the mirror. As expected, he was getting his dick wet. What you weren’t really expecting was the way he was fucking his girl from behind, her hands gripping tightly against the edge of the sink as she watched the way he thrust deep inside her through the mirror. Eren had his jeans hanging low on his hips, his belt unbuckled. His black shirt was pushed up, revealing a glimpse of six-pack abs—probably eight, how would you know, you never counted. You spotted his handprints on the girl’s ass, leaving angry red bruises on her milky skin. You could tell that he had been rough with her, which caused your thoughts to wander.

They both froze, the blonde girl’s face caught fire while Eren simply grinned. “Hey, Bunny,” he crooned. “Sorry, the bathroom’s occupied. I hope you’re not on the verge of doing number two.”

The fact that he could still run his mouth was beyond you. “Disappointed,” you told him, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. “But not surprised.”

The girl he was with tried to break away, but Eren took a hold of her wrist and pinned it behind her back. “Now, now, baby, I’m not finished with you yet,” he chuckled, his posture dominating. His voice was a mix between a sultry whisper and a growl. It was kind of… Hot.

Okay, you did not just think that.

Returning his gaze to the mirror, he smirked at you. “As you can see, I’m a little bit busy right now so I'd appreciate it if you just walk away. Unless you want to join us?”

“I gave you thirty minutes, Jaeger.”

“Aww, I thought we’d agreed that you’d wait for fifty.”

“IT’S ALREADY AN HOUR!” Great, now you were screaming at him. You needed to schedule a date with your therapist after this.

Eren sighed. “Look, as much as I enjoy being watched as I fuck, I can’t cum with you yapping your mouth. So, why don't you be a good girl and wait in the car, yeah? I’ll be with you in ten minutes.”

“Five.”

“Fifteen.”

You couldn’t. You literally couldn’t handle him. Your head would explode.

You went back into your car and you waited. You made a mental note to erase your browsing history after this because, in the last fifteen minutes, all you had been doing was searching how to sneak into a top-security apartment to strangle a fucking brat in his sleep.

When Eren stepped out of the car, his face was full of bliss. You turned the engine but he didn’t climb inside right away. Instead, he placed both palms on the hood of your car, smirking at you from underneath his cap.

“So, Bunny, about that coffee—”

You tried to run him over.

***

“Hey, can you put some music on?” Jean said, sitting on the second row of the van, right next to Eren who was sleeping soundly with his arms folded on his chest, his chin tucked. “It’s too quiet in here.”

You were driving them to a five-star hotel for their next photoshoot. Armin and Marco had different schedules for the day so they took a different route, leaving you to your own device along with these two demons who apparently found it impossible to even give you a minute of peace to yourself. Well, at least Devil Incarnate #1 was asleep. Hopefully, forever.

“Go to sleep, Jean. We still have an hour to go.”

“You want me to nag about it for an hour? Because I’ll do it.”

You took a deep breath. “Your mother never loved you, did she?”

“Why, are you trying to make it up by loving me harder than you already are?”

“Fuck you.”

“Now, you know I won’t say no to that, but—” He sighed dramatically. “All you women just keep taking advantage of me and my body. Am I really too pretty for the world?”

Yeah, he was right. Better put on some music before you lost your mind. “There.” You told him, switching on the radio and listening to whatever the DJ was playing. “Now shut up and let me drive.”

“I want to hear Nicki Minaj.”

“Well, I want to hear silence, but we can’t always get what we want now, can we?”

“I have her whole album in my phone. Turn on the Bluetooth.”

“Jean, I’m fucking driving.”

“And not really good at it. Turn it on.”

“Lord—” Trying to keep your attention on the road, you reached out your hand blindly to swipe your fingers on the screen, switching on the Bluetooth. Jean chuckled to himself, mirroring his phone to the screen. You could see his wallpaper. It was a naked picture of a girl. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Keep your eyes on the road, Sweetheart.”

Wait, now that you looked at it, it was a photo of the same person—a beautiful, Asian girl with a little scar on her right cheek—that you caught sucking on his dick before his concert a week ago. “You're still going out with Miss Sloppy? That's new.”

“Yeah, we’ve been going strong these days.” He went through his playlist, running his eyes from one track through another.

“And using her naked boobs as your wallpaper is a token of your appreciation, I suppose?”

“In the highest form.”

"You should've just given her flowers."

He snorted. "No one wants flowers these days, darling."

"I do," you told him and he spared you a glance. "Call me old school, but I think the traditional way of showing your love through flowers, or poems, or love songs—I think that's romantic." Jean simply remained silent, which made you feel uncomfortable since it felt like you just shared something personal you rarely shared with anyone else before.

The song played and you wished Jean would sing along to it so you didn't have to endure the silence—which was ironic considering how much you yearned for it a few minutes ago—but he didn’t. He didn’t even say a word when the song ended and another track played. Frowning, you took a glance of him through the rear-view mirror. You could see how Jean was leaning his back against his seat, his face turning toward the window. He was in a ruminative mood, which was the first time you had ever seen him in. His eyes had lost their usual puckish glow, growing vacant.

You called out his name, your voice unusually soothing that you were surprised with yourself. “You can take a nap if you want to. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“I think it’s best to catch some rest.”

“Stop sounding like my mother,” he said, a little bit firmer than usual. Unlike Eren, Jean rarely snapped at you. His voice, though rough, was always melodious when he talked to you, as if he was flirting, even though you knew it was just his way to irk you up. He sounded a bit tense now, maybe even upset.

You paused, giving into silence and he noticed the tension that stretched in the air. Releasing a heavy breath, he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry,” he said, keeping his eyes on the scenery outside his window. “I just…” He never finished.

There hadn’t been enough chance for you and Jean to know each other better. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to. You just thought it would make things awkward to suddenly converse about personal matters, especially when the only interaction you two had was him making fun of you on daily basis. But seeing him looking so unsettled like this didn’t feel right. He seemed like he could use a friend.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

Jean knitted his eyebrows together. “What?”

“I’m asking you how you’re feeling.”

“Uh... Why?”

“Because you look like you’re about to cry and I don’t feel like having a grown-ass man crying in the backseat.” You rolled your eyes, but when your gazes met in the mirror, you could see him smiling a little to himself. You did the same, even grinning. “Look, I know we’ve been treating each other like shit—well,” you corrected yourself. “You treated me like shit. I was just trying to respond to you being a giant ass by—”

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” He simpered. “Comforting other people?”

“Yeah," you chuckled awkwardly. "I don’t have that many friends.”

“Hmm, figured.” But his posture was more relaxed with no venom in his voice. “Well, at least you tried. It’s been a while since I heard someone asking me that question.”

You stole peeks at him through the mirror as you drove. There it was again. That weary, dispirited look on his face. “Is it hard being the leader? Or an idol in general?”

“Sometimes." He shrugged. "I mean, with more popularity coming your way, you’re bound to have your freedom taken away from you too. It's funny, isn't it? How you can have a thousand people cheering your name but at the same time, you feel like no one understands you. Feel like no one really cares about you. They just like the persona you show them on the stage. They don't give a fuck if you're an empty shell inside. And it makes you feel like you're…” He dawdled, unsure of what to say.

“Like you’re alone,” you finished for him. Jean blinked, his eyes drifting toward the mirror and you smiled softly at him when you locked gazes.

“Yeah,” he exhaled, long and heavy. Admitting it out loud felt like he had half the weight off his chest. “Like you’re alone.”

You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, swerving your car to the right. “Do you miss your mother?”

Jean was unfamiliar with the gentleness in your tone, but he liked it. “I do.”

“When was the last time you saw her? In person, I mean.”

“Three years ago.”

You almost hit the brakes a little too hard than intended. “Wow…” As you waited for the red light to turn green, you kept your gaze fixated on the mirror, examining his every expression. “Well, that sucks.”

He laughed dryly. “Yeah.”

“Is it because of your tight schedules?”

“Partially, yeah. But it was more because…” He clicked on his tongue. “She just didn’t want me to be in show business. She felt like I could’ve done so much better than just taking off my shirt on stage like a fucking stripper.” But there was no anger in his voice, only… disappointment, directed toward no one else but himself.

And you understood. Jean—the leader of AXIS who was always drenched in confidence whenever he took the stage—was insecure about his talent. In some ways, he felt like his body was all that was worthy of him. “Can I tell you a secret?” You asked him and he lifted his face. There was a slight curiosity buried underneath the dismal look in his eyes. Right before the light turned green, you tossed him a smile. “Eren is my bias in AXIS.”

He must have expected some heartwarming words to escape your mouth because he was visibly upset once your sentence rang through his ears. “Ah, yeah," he responded emotionlessly. "Not sure how's that supposed to make me feel better but good to know.”

"Who says I'm trying to make you feel better?"

He scrunched up his nose and you beamed back mischievously.

“Kidding. I’m not finished yet." You tried to ease the tension with a peal of airy laughter. “Well, to be fair, I don’t think I can call myself a fan because now I know how evil you guys are in real life,” Jean grunted at that. “But back when I didn’t know any better, I listened to your songs almost every day. I downloaded them illegally, true, but if I had the money, I would've bought your albums because you guys were that good. And I used my campus' free wi-fi to watch your performances every time I got the chance."

"Just how broke are you exactly?"

"Let's not talk about that." Jean's mood seemed to lighten at the way you retold your story. "I think I've watched you guys more times than I’d like to admit. You know how fangirls are.”

“Did you touch yourself while watching our fancams?” He sniggered.

“Congratulations, you just ruined our first heart-to-heart moment.” The glower you sent him was quickly reciprocated with a wink. “Anyway, as I said, Eren was my bias. I just thought he always looked amazing on stage. I still think so. No matter how big of an asshole he is, I’ve never seen someone having that much talent and passion when it comes to dancing. His expression, the way his body moves—it’s like he was born to dance, you know?”

“Thanks.”

You froze, eyes shooting upright to the mirror. Eren, who just thanked you with his voice heavy with sleep, turned to lay on his side. “I’m going back to sleep but don’t let that stop you from fangirling over me,” he mumbled and it took literally everything in your body to stop the blood from pooling in your face. You were about to say something smart—hopefully—when his soft snores echoed to your ears again.

This is so bad for my heart. “Anyway, umm—” You cleared your throat, trying to return your focus to Jean. “W-where was I?”

“Eren is your bias.”

Fuck. “Was,” you immediately corrected, ignoring the flames that bit your cheeks. “Was my bias, but that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that you, Jean, you were my bias wrecker.”

"The hell is a bias wrecker?"

"Someone who unexpectedly caught my attention and made me rethink my original bias."

It was then that his eyes lit up in surprise. “I... I was?”

“Yeah.” You didn't want to use the word cute to describe him but Jean was exactly that at the moment. “There were a lot of times when I saw your performances and I found myself looking at you the entire video. Hell, I think I even spent a good hour watching your fancams back in the days. Can you imagine? Me, actually looking for your videos on Youtube. Crazy, right?”

“No shit. Seriously?” He was almost like a child, the way he was so enthusiastic about it.

“Yeah. There’s something in the way you perform. Honestly, I didn’t even care if you took off your shirt or not. I even wondered why did you have to do that so often. Like I get that you’re hot, but you are so much more than just your looks and your body, you know? I feel like even if you were dressed as a school teacher, people would've still found you captivating. At least, I would. Eren has all the moves but your charisma is on another level. You can literally just stand on the stage, and all eyes would turn to you. And if that’s not talent, then I don’t know what that is.”

Jean’s cheeks reddened in a beautiful shade of crimson. You caught a glimpse of it before he averted his gaze, awkwardly scratching his cheek with his index finger. It made you feel happy and sad at the same time. It seemed like there really hadn’t been a lot of people appreciating him for his talent.

Smiling, you kept yourself muted, letting him take a moment for the words to sink in. It was then that Eren groaned.

“Ugh, gross,” he said sluggishly. “Go back to talking about me again.”

Five seconds later, he went back to sleep.

“Is he always like that?” You asked Jean, your heart palpitating.

“Yeah. Annoying, isn’t he?”

“Not as much as you are.” But you shared smiles with him, his gaze softening when he met yours. Even without him forming the words, you could detect a sense of gratitude radiating from him. You were just as grateful. It made you feel content that you understood him a little better now. Maybe, by the end of this job, you two could actually become friends.

“Hey,” Jean called.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to, uhh…” His voice wavered. You could see how his face changed from musing to frowning, to blushing before he finally gave up and said, “Never mind.”

“What?”

“I said, never mind.”

“What, you want us to grab some coffee together? Like on a date?”

He choked, ears turning pink. “N-no.”

He can’t lie to save his life, you thought in amusement. “Okay, Mr. Kirstein, whatever you say.”

Now that the atmosphere was not as heavy, you started listening to the song he was playing on speakers. That was when you noticed something.

“Bitch, this is Cardi B.”

“Aren’t they the same person?”

***

“Here you go, milady.” Armin handed you a bottle of iced strawberry milkshake; his smile was just as sweet and refreshing. With a white towel hanging around his shoulders, he took a seat on the hardwood flooring right next to you. His forehead was glistening with sweat, his shirt was also soaked with it. But the fact that this man still somehow smelled like Johnson’s baby powder was beyond you.

You were sitting cross-legged with your back leaning against the wall, waiting for the boys to finish their dance practice before you had to drive them back to their building. It was ten pm, your body was just as exhausted as theirs were, even when you hadn’t been dancing to the same track for two hours straight. But it was okay. Tomorrow was your day off. You just needed to grab some takeouts for the boys, drop them back to their flat, and then you could spend the rest of your day lounging in your bathtub with a glass of wine in hand, probably listening to Michael Bublé's Christmas album. This, of course, only happened in your imagination as you were so broke you couldn’t even afford a water heater, but a girl could dream, right?

“Well,” you sighed, thanking Armin for the drink. “I’ve only been thinking about murdering your teammates fourteen times this week. So that’s an improvement, I guess.”

“So, like, twice a day?”

“Yeah.”

“And it went down from…?”

“About one hundred and thirty-six times a day.”

“Yikes.” He chuckled, sipping on his sports drink.

Marco was absent from practice that day. He went with your aunt to do a radio interview to promote the new TV show he was in. It was his first acting gig and it was so cute the way he was so thrilled about it.

Jean was still caught up on another photoshoot. He was going to be on the cover of Men’s Health magazine, which would be out sometime early next month. And yes, you indeed told him that you didn’t care whether he was shirtless or not but that was a lie, wasn’t it? Of course, you cared. It would be stupid—and abnormal—not to.

Eren was still practicing the latest choreography, scrutinizing himself in the mirror as he followed his instructor’s steps, imitating his posture and movement. “He always works so hard,” Armin said, admiring him with a little smile of affection. “People always praise his talent, but it’s very rare to see them appreciating the blood and sweat he shed to get to this point. I’ve been friends with him since we were kids. He always worked himself to the limit. I often found him dancing alone in the studio till morning.” His sapphire eyes drooped in concern. “I feel bad that he has to learn much more complicated routines compared to the rest of us. I mean, he is our lead dancer so he has his solo stage, dance break, and everything but… I just feel like our company is working him too hard.”

You followed Armin’s gaze, landing your eyes on the shape of Eren’s biceps that somehow rippled every time he moved his arms. He was wearing a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of black track pants, his high-top sneakers creating squeaky sounds as they rubbed against the floor. The shirt was glued to his skin, the shape of his chiseled abdomen showing underneath the fabric. Eren took off his cap, running his fingers through his hair—his soft, soft hair that still looked fluffy even though his bangs were drenched with sweat—before he placed it back on. “The hell he’s so hot for,” you mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You cleared your throat, loosening your collar. “I mean, yeah. I agree with you. Actually, I just wish the company will give you guys a break. All of you deserve it.” Armin thanked you with his eyes and that reminded you. “Oh, right, I haven’t gotten the chance to say thank you for the cheesecake you sent me. How did you know that green tea is my favorite flavor?”

“Huh?” He blinked, frowning in confusion before— “Oh! Oh yeah, right. Cheesecake. How could I forget about that?” He slapped himself on the forehead. “Yeah, that was, um—that was from me.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “If little Prince Arlert is lying to me, I don't know who else to believe.”

“Wha—I don’t—” He was sweating for an entirely different reason. When he gave up, he almost curled himself up in a ball. “Yeah, it wasn’t from me. I’m sorry, I lied.”

“Was it from Marco?”

“Uh…” His eyes were shaking. “Umm, yeah, sure.”

“Did you just lie to me again?”

He shuddered. “It wasn’t from Marco.”

Great, now you were running out of options. Surely, it wasn’t from Devil Incarnate #1 and #2 seeing how they couldn’t even find the time to buy their own condoms. “Was it from my aunt? Seems very unlikely.”

“No. It was, uhh…” Armin darted his eyes away from yours, mumbling under his breath. He seemed to be in agony when he finally confessed with a grimace, “It was from Eren.”

“What?!” You shrieked, and he was so frightened, he almost jumped out of his skin. There was a reason why you called him Bambi. “Devil Incarnate number one?!”

“I’m legally not allowed to say,” he winced. “But, yeah, Devil Incarnate number one.”

“Why would—” you gasped, eyes widening in horror. “Oh, shit, what if it was poisonous? I just finished the whole cake this morning. What if it’s gonna give me explosive diarrhea or something—oh my God—”

At that point, Armin began to laugh. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that he’s just trying to apologize to you for acting like a douchebag?”

“Because—” You were speechless. After what Eren had done to you, there was no way he would suddenly be so kind and send you presents without any ulterior motive behind it. “Because… I don’t know, it’s just… It feels weird.”

“It feels weird that he’s nice?”

“Eren and the word nice do not belong together. Try to use the words narcissistic bitch, then I’ll agree with you.”

You were Armin's favorite entertainment. Almost everything you did and said never failed to paint a smile on his face. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”

“But you were the one who told him about my favorite flavor, right?”

“Nope. I honestly thought strawberry was your favorite flavor.” He gestured toward the bottle in your hand. “Hence, the drink.”

“Oh…” You held the bottle close to your chest, grinning at him. “Well, this is my second favorite flavor.”

“Sure.” He bumped his shoulder playfully against yours and you did the same. Whenever you were with Armin, it felt like you were two best friends from high school watching a football game from the bleachers. "Wait, the red roses from last week," you recalled, your forehead creasing again. "Those weren't from the company, were they?"

He chuckled once. "Why did you think they were from the company?"

"I don't know, I just thought they were thanking me for working hard, that's all."

"You're cute."

"Hey, I worked my ass off for you guys."

Armin raised both hands in the air. "Never said you didn't."

You lightly punched him on the chest. "I can't believe Eren sent me flowers."

"Um, no, those were from Jean, actually."

Your heart, once again, dropped to your stomach. "What?!"

“Which I'm also legally not allowed to say!" Armin stood up in hurry. "I gotta go practice some more. Talk to you later.” He left before you could snatch his hand to keep him in place, half-running to his previous spot.

“Armin, get back here!”

Clasping both hands to his ears, he shouted back with, “La la la, I can't hear you!”

***

Eren was in the middle of swallowing big gulps of mineral water when you tapped his shoulder. “Eren—”

“Jesus Christ—” Startled enough to have his heart in his throat, he pivoted on his heels and accidentally bumped his back against the vending machine. He gripped onto his plastic bottle too hard, spilling water all over the floor. “You scared me!” He exclaimed with one hand clutching onto his chest, his breathing labored. “Can’t you just show up like a normal person?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare your panties off, Princess.” You fake an accent, trying to make yourself sound even more obnoxious to his ears. “Shall I write a note for you next time? Give you a friendly warning before I normally walk up to you and normally call out your name like a normal person?”

He exhaled sharply. “You and your sarcasm.”

“You and your—” stupid, stupid washboard abs, “—ugly hair.”

And just like that, his mouth curved up in a smirk. “We both know that’s not true, Muffin.”

“Whatever.” You tilted up your chin, crossing your arms on your chest. “So, when are you planning to tell me that you sent me a cake yesterday?”

He raised his bottle to his lips, ready to take a sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Armin told me.”

He choked, spilling water to his shirt. “Damn it, Armin!” Eren hissed under his breath. With his usual scowl returning to his face, he tried to look unperturbed, even when his nostrils were flaring. “Well, you weren’t supposed to find out about that.”

“What was the point in giving me a cake if you didn't want me to know about it?”

“It’s just…” He dragged his gaze away, mumbling in a subdued tone, “It just makes me feel less guilty about it.”

“Speak louder, Jaeger. Who are you talking to—an ant?”

You were clearly testing on his patience and you loved it. He repeated his words, loud enough to be considered as a shout.

“Ah, okay.” You nodded, playing nonchalantly as usual. “I don’t know if this ever occurs to you, but saying the words I’m sorry would’ve been so much easier to do. And, it won’t cost you anything. Well, your dignity, probably, but you’ll get to keep your wallet.”

Eren flatly stared back. "The last time I apologized to you, you mocked me by saying I had the emotional range of a teaspoon."

"A pregnant woman," you corrected. "Oh yeah, right, you did that. Which was bullshit because then you asked me to come with you to a shady bar where I had to freeze my ass outside, waiting for some girl to finish giving you a sloppy toppy."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. It's summer. It was literally like forty degrees outside." When you opened your mouth to protest, Eren raised a finger in the air to stop you. You, of course, tried to bite it off. "Look, either way, I didn't want to apologize to you directly so I thought I could just send you a cake."

"But you sent it anonymously." You exaggerated a nod, mouth turning upside-down. "All right. No logic can be found there, but okay, man, whatever keeps you sleep at night, I guess."

"Jesus—" The more he grew frustrated talking to you, the bigger the joy that swelled inside your chest. His jawlines and cheekbones were too sharp and masculine for him to be sporting a pout, but he still nailed it. "I did what I did because I know you’ll just make fun of me for it.”

True, that is true. “I wouldn’t make fun of you.”

He searched your eyes, his jaw clenching as he contemplated. He was sure that you’d laugh at him but after what he did to you at the bar, he knew that he owed you a proper apology. Fuming and abashed, he threw his hands in the air. “Fine, you want to hear me say it? I’m sorry. There, satisfied?”

There was a moment where you tried to be a better person and keep the promise you made him. But then again, you weren’t that kind of girl so what did you do? You cackled.

“See!” He complained, almost whining, with the tips of his ears matching the shade of your lipstick. “You fucking laughed at me!”

“Sorry, it’s just—” You were tearing up, literally. Swiping a thumb over your lid, you tried to tone down your maniacal laughter into a grin. “God, you can be so adorable sometimes.”

And the line shocked you just as much as it shocked him. Adorable? You went with the word adorable? Out of all the things you could have said? This was Devil Incarnate #1 you were talking about. Adorable was for babies, or puppies—or Armin. Adorable was literally the last word you could use to describe him.

“I mean, you’re annoying as hell,” you quickly added. “But, yeah, adorable.” No need to clarify, you idiot, I think he got that the first time.

And there he was, standing before you with unblinking eyes. You wondered if you broke him—maybe he was a robot designed to piss off humanity, with a self-destruct option activated by the word adorable. You certainly hoped so, as that would give you a reason not to see his face ever again.

But then the robot spoke and the second he did, your fist wanted to make contact with his face again. It was just a natural reaction at this point. “So,” he crossed his arms, leaning one shoulder against the vending machine, showcasing that goddamn smirk as if he wasn't just blushing like a schoolgirl. “Is that the reason why I’m your bias?”

“Was my bias,” you rectified through clenched jaws. “And no, we’re not talking about this.” His grin almost reached his ears now. “Bring up this topic again and I will try to run you over with my car, I swear to God, I will.”

His smile slipped. “You did.”

“Yeah, well, just like that, but harder.”

He sighed, looking so weary, he had to rub his temple with his fingers. “So, did you like it?”

“Running you over with my car? Loved it.”

“I meant, the cake.”

“Oh.” You giggled, mocking the way his nose flared in anger. “I’ve tasted better.” He’d already expected that answer but he rolled his eyes anyway. “But, umm…” You dawdled. Trying to vocalize your gratitude to him was as hard as acing your algebra test. “Thank you, I guess.”

He gave you a weird look, astonished but also judging the way you said it. Once he detected the genuineness behind it, a coy smile graced his lips. “You’re welcome.”

“I’ve called my mother and let her know that if I die within a few hours from now, she’ll know who’s responsible.”

“Will you ever stop yapping?”

“Will you ever stop being annoying?”

“It’s part of my charm, Muffin.”

“It’s part of mine too, Ren.” You mirrored his glare, but also the little smile that followed right after.

Despite your constant banter with him, the atmosphere was light, like a feeling that shrouded two friends having friendly arguments over a movie. “No, seriously,” you asked him softly this time, wanting him to be honest with you for once. “Why did you suddenly feel like you wanted to make it up to me?”

He pondered, seeming utterly conflicted between telling you the truth and losing his dignity in the process or lying about it even more. He knew the latter would only piss you off so with his eyes looking anywhere else but yours, he mumbled out, “I just—I realized that you weren’t…” It looked like it physically hurt him to say the words. “… as bad as I thought you would be.”

Now you couldn’t deny the slight jolt your heart did when you heard his line (which was dumb because this was Devil Incarnate #1 for God's sake). But it wasn’t just his words that did that to you, it was his tone, the expression on his face, his body language when he said it. Eren was being… sincere.

You stuck out your tongue, acting disgusted. “Why does it sound so gross coming out of your mouth?”

“Oh my God, you’re so—”

Before he could finish his sentence, a female voice came to your hearing zone. Eren’s eyes widened and he pushed you against the wall, his bottle falling to the floor with a dull thud. Your chests were plastered against one another, warm skin meeting warmer one. He had both hands on the wall, placing each one on each side of your head, hiding both of your frames beside the vending machine.

“What are you doing—”

“Pretending to make out with you,” he said before he bent his head down. You could feel his breath on your neck, hear every time he inhaled your scent.

Two females were passing through the hallway, chattering as they walked past you. “Eww, gross, get a room already,” one of them muttered. “Come on, we should go.” They quickened their steps, their heels clicking as they took fast strides, heading toward the stairs.

Eren, with his face buried in the crook of your neck, murmured, "Hold still until they're gone." You knew he was referring to your pose, but you were also holding your breath. Once their voices turned faint, he slightly widen the gap. He still had one hand propping himself against the wall, his other one trapping your jaw underneath his lean fingers. You could feel his breath fanning your lips, the tip of his nose almost brushing against yours. And you wondered whether you wished he had distanced himself further or leaned even closer.

He smelled like sweat, as expected, but underneath that, you could also smell him—pelargonium, warm cinnamon, and cloves. It might just be his perfume but— “Sorry,” he expressed, a bit timidly, “I don’t wear perfume for practice. I must smell like sweat, huh?”

So you’re telling me this is your natural scent?! “Yeah," you snorted. "You stink. Remind me why are we in this position again?”

“Psychotic ex-girlfriend,” he casually explained as if your faces weren’t hanging two inches away from each other. “Just didn’t feel like being spat on again.”

You were both talking in whispers. “I thought…” There was this tension surrounding you, heavy but not displeasing. Suffocating in the best way. “You don’t date.”

When he chuckled, you could almost feel the vibrations on your skin. His fingertips felt scorching and yet delicate when they traced your jawline, gently guiding your face upward to meet his eyes. You expected to see a smirk, but what he gave you was a light, mysterious smile that pricked on your curiosity. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, baby.”

You almost shivered at the nickname. “Liar. She probably just someone you had a quickie with before the show.”

Eren’s eyes turned half-lidded, gazing at you like he was appreciating a beautiful painting. “Maybe.” He glided his thumb over your lips, biting the corner of his lower one to resist the temptation. “What about you? Do you date?”

None of you bothered to keep your eyes on each other anymore. You just let them wander, tracing the shape of his mouth as he did yours with his. “I don’t have quickies with random men, that’s for sure.”

His lips bowed. “It’s literally just a yes or no question.”

“Well, I don’t—”

He kissed you, tentatively but firm. Your bodies were meshed, his hand framing your face but it only felt different when your lips moved against one another. He caught you off guard but it was as startling as the fact that you felt disappointed when he broke away.

“You…” You wetted your lip, and he almost groaned at the sight of your tongue peeking out, wanting to have it tangled around his. “You just kissed me…”

The desire in his eyes matched the one that rose quickly in your chest. "Did you like it?"

"Well, I'm—" He cut you off again, only this time, he didn't just kiss you to have a taste. He did it to devour your lips. It was like something snapped within him when he saw the look in your eyes, and you were glad that you didn’t have to voice your thoughts out loud.

You were reaching out to grab him by the nape when he took a fistful of your hair. Two parted mouths consuming one another as if you were fighting for air. Your hands landed on his chest, contemplating between pushing him away or keeping him close as the voice inside your head kept telling you that it was a bad idea to keep this going. Eren didn’t give you the chance to decide, however, as he clamped his hands tightly around your wrists, pinning them against the wall.

"You gotta let me…” you tried to vocalize between heavy kisses, body arching to complete his like a perfect set of a puzzle. “…talk…”

Eren's brain was shut down, his body moving solely on instinct. On lust. He grunted against your mouth as a form of response, teeth gnawing at your supple flesh. He could taste the rest of your strawberry milkshake that coated your tongue, and you could taste yourself in his mouth. The zest of his kiss made your legs buckle, and you slid down the wall for only a few centimeters but he was quick to notice. Eren slipped his leg between yours, his thigh pressing against the zipper of your jeans, and your breath hitched in your throat. There was this little growl that erupted from the back of his throat—one that sounded so sensual—when he felt you nipping at his lower lip, teasing it between your teeth. “Fuck,” he breathed out but he swallowed the praise that was about to follow. The kiss was raw and bruising but the thrill was unlike any other. It was addicting as it was... dangerous.

“Eren!” Armin’s voice was like a ball smashing against the window, shattering whatever it was that clouded you and him. You both broke away, just right in time before the blonde boy stepped into the hallway, noticing your presence. “Oh, there you are! Your phone’s ringing. I think it’s our manager.”

“I’ll be there,” Eren said, noticeably flustered and you wondered why. It wasn’t like him to feel all over the place over a kiss. “I, uh, I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah, okay.” You played nonchalant, smoothening down your shirt. “Break a leg.”

It was awkward when he left, but it would’ve been more awkward if he stayed. So, he did, with his thoughts jumbled and his chest feeling like it was about to explode. Before he disappeared into the studio, he stepped back to catch one more look. “Hey, Muffin.”

You card your fingers through your hair—a messy piece of art designed by his hand. “What?”

He hesitated. The words were sitting heavily on his tongue but he couldn’t move the muscle. Giving up with a defeated sigh, he alternated with, “Break a leg is what you say to actors. You should’ve said merde.”

“Pretty sure merde is French for poop.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And how would you know?”

You smiled, one corner of your lips rising higher than the other. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, baby.”

***

You and Eren didn’t share a word on your way back to their flat, probably because Armin was present. The blue-eyed boy felt the tension but he didn’t comment on it. Eren, for once, felt too indecisive to state out his thoughts. You stole glances at the brunette from the rear-view mirror, his attractive face illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. He was on the edge of his seat, both literally and figuratively and you wondered why. Surely, it was just a kiss?

When you stopped your van in front of their apartment building, Armin climbed out first, followed by Eren who seemed to have his body glued to his seat. You rolled down your window, keeping your engine running. “It’s my day off tomorrow so I won’t be around, but you can call me if you need anything, Bambi.”

“You won’t be around?” Armin sulked like a child. “Oh, man… I wish we could hang but I've got a variety show I need to film tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you again on Monday. Maybe we can take a short trip to the bookstore before your interview?”

He beamed. “You’re the best, honestly.” Bidding his farewell with a warm wave of his hand, the boy turned to the other man. “Come on, Eren, let’s go.”

“You go ahead. I need to talk to her.”

“O… kay…” Armin observed him with a deep furrow on his temple, noticing the tension but decided not to speak up. “All right, I’ll see you guys later, then.”

“Bye, Bambi.” Exchanging smiles with you, Armin left, stepping inside the building and disappearing inside an elevator.

Eren shifted toward you, tautening his hold around the sling of his sports bag. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t want to shut down the engine first?”

“Why, would it take a while?” You smiled at him, acting as if you were drained to your bones—which was true, but not this much. “I’m a bit tired.”

His eyes darkened. Clearly, he did not approve of your attitude. “Fine, let’s cut to the chase then,” he bitterly countered. “Why did you kiss me back?”

“I didn’t.” The way you kept your smile intact throughout the conversation sparked his temper. “You kissed me. I just happened to let you do it.”

His eyes were almost sinister as they perceived you. "Seriously?”

You pouted, blinking your eyes cutely just to rile him up even more. “Was that not what happened?”

“You—” Vexation quickened his blood, painting angry red to his cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re playing hard to get after you stuck your tongue in my mouth!”

“Excuse me?” You retorted, feigning disbelief. “Why are you acting like I just took advantage of you? You kissed me without my permission.”

“Yeah, but—” He exhaled sharply, threading a hand through his hair. “You know what? Yeah. Let’s just pretend that you weren’t rubbing yourself against my thigh two hours ago.”

“Oh no, I’m devastated.” You sniggered. “Might cry myself to sleep tonight.”

“Fuck you.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t, Muffin.” You cast a wink and before he could say anything else, you stepped on your gas and drove away.

Through your window mirror, you could see him standing frozen on the pavement, scowling at you as if he could magically engulf you in flames by his stare. You chuckled to yourself.

Revenge had never tasted so sweet.

***

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you lamented against your phone, “You promised that I’d get my day off today. I’ve already told my friend that I'd go to her party!”

“I know, I’m so sorry.” Your aunt was even whinier than you were. “I promise I’ll pay you for your time. I don’t have anyone else to ask for help, honey, I’m desperate!”

You took a glance at the digital clock sitting on your nightstand. It was almost eight-thirty pm, which meant you still had an hour to spare before the party started. You huffed in defeat, blowing out your cheeks. “Fine, but I’ll hold you to your word.”

“I promise. Look, I’ll even transfer the money to you right now.”

“Perfect. Give me the address then.”

It already took you almost an hour just to get into CMN’s building because of the traffic. Grumbling under your breath, you quickly fetched the invitation letters from the lobby—the same ones that your aunt told you to deliver to the boys. By boys, she meant Eren and Jean who were now staying in a five-star hotel where they would be attending a music award event tomorrow.

“Thirty-two minutes?!” You gasped, glowering at your GPS. You didn’t realize the hotel would be that far away. You were going to miss the party for sure. Oh, God, I was looking forward to it too. Clicking your tongue in irritation, you started your engine and drove away.

About fifty minutes later—damn traffic—you found yourself walking into the lobby of Eastin Hotel. You weren’t sure you were going to get permission to go up to their room but after showing the receptionist your business card, they let you through.

“I can’t believe I’m seeing them again on my day off,” you groused, jabbing your finger against the doorbell of room 1802. You waited, your patience running thin as you logged back into your Instagram account. Your friends were already having fun at the pool, sipping margaritas and dancing to the upbeat music, while you were there, sweating and breathless from all the running, with anger bubbling up quickly on your chest.

Then, the door slid open.

“Well, hello, darling,” Jean cooed with his usual seductive smirk. “Eren, our room service is here. Think we got ourselves lucky tonight.”

“Shut it.” You pointed your finger at him. You were seething, and usually, you would hold back your anger, but with all the traffic, the sudden change in your plans, and his pesky attitude, you were way past your limit. “I am this close at murdering you with my bare hands, Jean Kirstein. I can’t believe you forgot to bring your invitation letter! That’s literally the only thing you have to bring!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down.” He grinned, leaning his back against the doorframe. “You’re gonna wake up the neighbors.” You could feel his eyes wander your body, stopping momentarily to see how perfectly your black dress hugged your waist. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Because I was supposed to be at a party an hour ago.”

“You look nice.”

“You look disgusting. As always.” Which was a lie, obviously, because Jean was dressed so handsomely in a pair of black trousers and a white button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing veiny arms and large palms. Knowing the boys’ schedule, you were sure that he and Eren were dressed in expensive suits before. It was only right to dress up when you had dinner together with the executives of CMN. Staying unfazed, however, you slapped his letter—and Eren’s—to his chest. “Here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go kill myself before you boys do.”

You rotated on your heels, about to stomp away when Jean took you by the wrist. “Or you can just stay?” He offered, his smile seemed a lot more innocent than it was twenty seconds ago. “We’re having some wine. You look like you could use a drink.”

Wine? The word echoed wonderfully in your ears. It had been a while since you had some (poor college students couldn’t drink wines for fun). Sighing, you took a peek at your phone screen. It was almost eleven pm. The party was still going on, of course, but it would take you another one-hour drive—even without traffic—and you didn’t really feel like going anymore.

“I hate you,” you muttered but you walked past him anyway. Jean chortled to himself, following after you as you stepped further into the suite.

As a broke college student who couldn’t even pay your rent on time, this suite you were in looked like a fucking castle—one that was futuristically designed, of course. It featured two separate bedrooms, with a living room that was probably big enough than your entire apartment. Plush sofas and a chaise longue were placed in front of a full-set home cinema system. The walls that separated the room with the balcony were fully made of glass, giving way to skyline views of the city.

“It isn’t bad, is it?” Jean questioned, walking past you with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his pants.

“Not bad at all,” you mumbled, still a little bit dazed with the scenery. You followed him further into the living room, marveling over the paintings that were plastered on the wall. You only stopped once you spotted Eren—the same Eren Jaeger who kissed you yesterday—still dressed perfectly in his black suit and a matching tie, lounging on the couch with his legs stretched out on the coffee table. His hair was tied up in a bun, nothing unusual, with a few of his baby hairs falling to his temple. He had a cigarette resting between his fingers and a phone in his other hand. There were two tall glasses nearby—both of them were half-empty—and a bottle of Jordan Cabernet Sauvignon. You weren’t knowledgeable when it came to winery, but you could tell that bottle cost more than your entire outfit including what was inside your purse.

Seeing him elevated your mood, knowing that you’d get to tease him again. “Hey, handsome.”

Eren, about to take a drag, drifted his eyes toward you. “Fuck,” was the only thing that came out of his mouth, the cigarette in his hand left forgotten. You wondered if he cursed because he was annoyed at your presence, but it seemed unlikely with the way he was gazing at you. Just like Jean, Eren sized you up and down, being even more blatant with his stare, undressing you with his eyes. And you thought Jean was obvious.

“Take a picture, baby,” you sneered at him. “It will last longer.”

The stupefied look quickly morphed into a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“Delivering our letters,” Jean answered on your behalf, taking a seat right next to him. “Better not bring it up again if you don’t want to have your balls cut off.” The ash-brown-haired man snatched a cigarette from its package, placing it between his lips. “Where’s the lighter?”

“Somewhere on the couch.” Eren was still glaring at you, watching you take a seat on the other side of the sofa with narrowed eyes.

“Yeah, keep staring at me like that,” you challenged him. “That would make me want to kiss you again.”

“Did something happen?” Jean asked before Eren could form his retort, moving his eyes back and forth between you and the brunette.

“Oh, Eren kissed me without permission and he’s butthurt because he thinks I took advantage of him.”

“What—I don’t—” Eren’s face caught fire before he hissed, “Oh, shut up.”

He’s so transparent, you giggled.

“I can’t find the lighter,” Jean complained, not really paying attention to your words. Eren groaned, his mood was all over the place because of you. Grabbing Jean by the collar, he closed the distance between their faces. The taller male staggered but he kept his body still, knowing what Eren was intending to do. While holding his own in his mouth, Jean touched the end of Eren’s lit cigarette to his. Then, he inhaled.

“There you go, buddy,” Eren said once his cigarette was lit properly, releasing his hold from him.

With a muffled, “Thanks,” Jean reclined on the couch, the fabric around his collar crumpled from Eren’s grip. He returned his gaze toward you. “Why are you sitting over there? Come here.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you uttered slyly, standing up from your seat. “I thought you guys were having a moment.”

Jean snorted. “He wishes.”

“Not as much as you do, Horseface.”

You held back your amusement from showing. Jean took you by the hand, guiding you to settle between them. The couch was probably big enough for eight people to sit on, but your shoulders were almost grazing theirs from how close they were to you. You didn’t mind.

“I didn’t expect you guys to be this close to each other in real life,” you commented, silently thanking Jean when he handed you a glass. He poured you some red wine, and as you took a sip, you were shortly impressed by the perfect balance between beautiful fruit, silky tannins, and a lingering finish. You took another big gulp and asked Jean for more. “I mean, you did a lot of fanservice together on stage, but I thought it was just a setup to make yourself more popular.”

“Well, there’s that too, of course.” To your surprise, Eren was the one who answered. You thought he would ignore your existence for the rest of the night, but that didn’t seem like the case. There was still a bitter undertone in his voice but his anger was dissipating. “Want a drag?” He raised his cigarette in the air.

With a smile, too innocent to be alluring, you curled your fingers around his wrist, bringing it closer to your face. Eren watched with hazy eyes, loving the way your lips closed seductively around the same spot he had his mouth on earlier. You inhaled, filling smoke into your lungs before you tilted up your chin and released it in the air. The column of your throat was exposed, allowing his gaze to shift down to your neckline that hung too low. It reveals enough amount of your cleavage to tease his eyes, but Eren was voracious for more.

It wasn’t just him who was staring. Jean's eyes lingered just as intensely, although he was focusing more on the way your dress rode up your thighs. It felt electrifying, to be heavily gazed at with lust like you were a prey ready to be ravished. You knew that it was only a matter of time before one of you made the first move, and then—

The doorbell rang, surprising all three of you at once. Jean let out a harsh breath. “Must be room service,” he muttered as he returned to his feet. When he left to unlock the door, you returned your attention to Eren.

You just had your lips parted, ready to form his name when he reached out a hand. His fingers skimmed over your cheek, a bit warmer than usual. You had expected him to kiss you and if he did, you wouldn’t be surprised. But he didn’t. He only swatted some loose strands from your face, gently tucking your hair behind your ear. It made you feel weird in such a pleasant way.

"You're still angry with me?" You queried with a juvenile smile breaking on your lips, peering into his eyes.

"What do you think?" His voice was dulcet, almost felt like it didn't belong to him. His eyes drifted down to your lips again, and you were reminded of the passion he burned on your skin a night ago. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

You grinned, sweet and innocent, just the way he liked it. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Jean returned to the living room with a trolley that was filled with ice buckets and a huge plate of blueberry pancakes. The sight made you stitch your eyebrows together. The ice buckets you could understand, but pancakes?

“What?” Eren shrugged when both you and Jean sent him a judging look. “I have midnight cravings, sue me.”

“Sorry, dude, I didn’t realize you were pregnant,” Jean mocked but a grin broke upon his lips when he snatched a bottle of whiskey from the bucket. Holding it in his hands, he showcased his signature smirk. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

***

Two hours, half bottle of wine and one bottle of whiskey later, you found yourself resting your head on Eren’s lap, your legs on Jean’s. Eren’s suit has been shucked off, but he still kept his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Jean’s white shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, enough for you to admire his sculpted muscles if you wanted to.

You were chuckling at the stupid joke Jean was making about a princess and a horse. You didn’t get it. You just giggled because you caught Eren smiling at the joke, and he laughed because you laughed. Jean was so impressed with himself, he went to tell you another anecdote. None of you really cared. It just felt comforting hearing Jean’s voice and Eren’s little chuckles. You were just simply enjoying the moment.

That moment started to change, however, when the alcohol began to kick in. You were tipsy, but not that much. You were still aware of your surroundings, still aware of how Eren’s fingers were resting dangerously close to your breasts, still aware of how Jean’s calloused palms were sliding up and down your legs. The alcohol didn’t make you foolish, it just made you feel… brazen.

You knew what started it. It began with Eren’s hand framing the underpart of your jaw, his thumb tracing the shape of your mouth. His eyes drooped low, enchanted by the view. “What are you staring at, Muffin?” you teased him. He snorted at the nickname, but the alcohol fogged his thoughts, thick enough to make him frank.

“Your lips,” he answered, his thumb gliding from the corner of your mouth to stop at the middle.

“And what about my lips?” You slightly parted them, enough to let your breath caress his fingertip.

“They’re pretty.” He said it in a sigh as if it was a secret he’d been wanting to tell for so long. “Look even prettier like this.”

“Like what?” Eren swore he saw your eyes gleam a split second before you enveloped his thumb with your lips, cheeks hollowing to provide gentle suction before you twirled your tongue around the tip. Eren’s breath caught in his throat but he didn’t lay his emotions on the table. You released his finger with an obscene pop, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip to break the string of saliva. “Like that?”

Knowing the last time he kissed you, you pretended like it was only him who wanted it to happen, Eren didn’t want to repeat the same mistake. But, God, you were so pretty—so goddamn alluring, you left him weak. So he lowered his head, and you permitted him to pull your face toward his, letting his lips consume yours again.

Jean, who had been playing with his phone, froze at the sight. But when you split away from the kiss, your lips glistening with Eren’s spit, you invited him over with a sultry smile. “There's a room for one more if you want.”

Then everything went so fast, it felt like a blur.

Your body was perched on the couch, trapped between the two. Eren brought a blueberry to your lips and you caught it between your front teeth. He leaned in to close the bridge between your mouths, his expert tongue curling around yours, thieving the fruit and your breath away at the same time. You felt Jean’s fingers pressed against your jawline, turning you over to him so you could taste the rest of the whipped cream that blanketed his lips.

“You’re a goddamn beauty,” Jean breathed, placing a wet kiss on your nape.

“Your lips taste fucking amazing,” Eren groaned, a moment before your tongues danced.

They were giving you all the attention, dousing you with all the compliments you deserve. Every touch made you feel wanted. Every kiss was a form of desire. And they drowned you in it. In rapture. In ecstasy.

Eren snatched the bottle of wine from the table, too drunk to care about using glass. He took a few drinks, red wine dripping to his chin, staining the collar of his shirt that was now unbuttoned to his chest. With Jean’s lips still sucking bruises on your neck, you twirled Eren’s tie around your hand, tugging it slightly to return his attention to you. “I want some,” you told him and he reciprocated with a smirk.

Instead of handing the bottle over to you, Eren took another sip and kissed you roughly. His strong hand held you by your jaw, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth, forcing it open. You obeyed, drinking the wine directly from his mouth.

Jean’s lips peppered kisses down your spine, his hand settled on your breast, gently massaging it before he squeezed you a little harder. You whimpered in pleasure against Eren’s mouth, both from the sensation of Jean’s touches and the way the brunette’s tongue was flicking over yours. Eren licked a stripe up from your chin to your lips, wiping the rest of the wine that dribbled down your skin. “How did it taste?” He asked you, loving the way your tongue peeked out to trace your lip.

You purred when he smooched you again, a bit lazily this time, which made it feel even more sensual. “You mean the wine?” You closed your eyes, choosing to focus solely on the little sounds he made as he suckled on your earlobe. “Or you?” Eren’s mouth was pressing hotly against your neck, and you were sure he was going to leave bruises but you didn’t care.

It was Jean who spoke. “What about me?” His lips were thinner than Eren’s, softer too. He kissed you with a hint of romance, which served as a fresh change to Eren’s burning passion. You moaned against his mouth and Jean took the chance to slip his tongue past your teeth.

“You kiss by the book, Kirstein,” you praised breathily as he nipped on your lower lip. You could feel his mouth curve into a smile, deepening the kiss with his soft moan painting the little space between you.

Eren was jealous, you could tell with the way he suddenly grabbed you by the chin, almost growling when your mouths collided. Jean was a little bit more mature than he was, letting him steal your kiss but it didn’t mean that he was patient. He worked on your zipped, tugging it down, while Eren slipped his hand between your legs. You could feel the material of your dress slipping off your shoulders, Eren’s tongue delving inside your clavicle, Jean’s fingers playing with the hook of your bra.

“I want to fuck your mouth,” Eren whispered, stroking two fingers against your lips and when you parted them, he pressed his digits flat on your tongue.

Jean’s raspy groan was right next to your ear. “I want to taste your cunt.”

You shut your lids, your blood boiling under your skin. Fingers were rubbing against your lingerie, and hands were placed on your thighs to spread your legs wide open. Jean tore your bra away, tossing it over his shoulder. He suddenly lifted you by the waist, lying you down on the round marbled table.

“Is this your idea of fun?” You teased him when he took off your dress, throwing it haphazardly on the floor.

“What, is this not fun for you?” Jean pushed your legs forward, keeping his palms at the back of your thighs as he rubbed himself against your clothed heat. You could feel him, could feel how huge he was, throbbing cock aching to be released from its confinement. The friction he gave you stole your attention away that when Eren suddenly moved to the other side of the table, his palm pressing against the underside of your chin to lift your face, you gasped against his mouth.

Eren kissed you upside down, giving you a different sensation and leaving you dazed when he broke away. Looming tall above you, he let his fingers work on his tie. “You better not forget about me, baby girl,” he purred, yanking it away from his collar with one swift movement of his hand. He then toyed with the buttons of his shirt, his smirk was devilish. He knew you were watching him, lascivious eyes wanting to see more of his body. He could’ve torn his shirt open with one hand but he didn’t. He wanted to tease you. Wanted to make you suffer. “All this time pretending you don’t want me,” Eren sneered. “Who’s your daddy now?”

His palm hit your cheek, leaving a burning, tingling sensation on your skin. It was hard enough to toss your face to the side but barely enough to send pain coursing through your veins. It was only to tease, to slightly humiliate you, and it did its job. You’d always loved to find a little bit of pain in pleasure.

You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek, lips curving upwards in a cocky smile. “You think you can control me, Daddy?”

“Let’s see about that.” You were both smiling into the kiss before you felt his tongue exploring your mouth, his nails raking up from your stomach to the front of your throat. You felt something sticky being dribbled onto your bare chest, trickling down to your navel.

“Something sweet for the sweetest girl,” Jean commented, impressed and satisfied as he smeared the maple syrup all over your skin. You could feel his mouth on your abdomen, tongue tracing along your hipbone, licking the substance off your skin.

Eren, keeping his feet on the ground, leaned forward to latch his mouth on your breast. You mewled in content, kissing the taut muscles of his abs, your hand moving past your head to cup his hardness that was straining against the silky fabric of his pants. “Fuck, baby,” Eren moaned, squeezing hard on your breast, sucking on your nipple none too gently. He was rougher than Jean, more ardent as if he wasn’t afraid to hurt you. He did the same thing to your other breast, the vibration of his grunts felt perilous on your sensitive skin.

Your body jolted when you felt Jean's tongue teasing over the fabric of your lingerie. Your thighs closed around his head in reflex but he spread them open again, keeping your legs pinned to the table with his hands. "Didn't I tell you, Sweetheart?" he murmured, softly kissing the inner parts of your thigh. "I want to taste you." His breath felt hot on your skin, but you shivered in response. He pushed your lingerie to the side, licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit. It had been so long since you had someone pleasuring you like this, that even a single flick of his tongue sent tremors all over your body.

Jean chuckled, loving your reaction just as much as he loved your taste. "Think I'll have you for dessert," he said, wet tongue swirled around your clit before he played it between his lips. “Such a pretty fucking pussy.”

“Wait,” you gasped out, fingers clawing against Eren's biceps. “Wait…”

They stopped, breaking away to give you space. “You all right?” Jean asked you from between your legs. He hadn’t gotten enough taste of you yet, but your consent was his priority.

Tossing him a reassuring smile, you told him to let you go for a minute. You returned to your feet, sliding your lingerie off your legs. Their eyes traversed down your body, enchanted by the way you swayed your hips, wondering how it would feel to have their nails sinking into your skin as they fucked you from behind.

You whirled around, your skin felt like it was on fire underneath the intensity of their gazes. “If we’re gonna do this,” you tempted them with seduction, both on your lips and in your eyes. “Let’s do this right.”

You took them both by their hands, leading the way to the master bedroom. You were their queen, stepping into your throne. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, you crossed your legs and rested your palms on the sheets as you leaned back.

“Boys,” you called. “Why don’t we start with you two sucking each other off?”

“You want us to what?”

There. Now you’re all caught up.

***

Jean has a secret he hasn’t told you. Or anyone else for that matter. And the truth is…

Fuck, he tastes so good.

Eren’s lips are nothing like a girl’s. They don’t feel as soft, they don’t taste as sweet. But it’s precisely because they’re so different, that when their mouths clash, it feels ten times better. Jean doesn’t have to hold himself back. He doesn’t have to be careful or gentle. Eren kisses like he wants to tear him apart and he can kiss him back just as rough, just as demanding.

The brunette pulls away, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Jean sees the way his viridian eyes move back and forth, drifting from his eyes to his lips as if he’s trying to figure out why the fuck does this feel so good?—the same question that Jean has been asking himself. But that’s where he's wrong.

Because Eren already knows how good it feels to kiss boys. Or to fuck boys. What he doesn’t know—yet—is how good it would feel to have his cock hitting the back of Jean’s throat, and he can’t wait to find out. The shorter male wets his lips—they’re bruised and red, and if Jean kisses him again, just a tad harder, maybe they’ll look even prettier.

Jean is done denying himself. He’s done contradicting the fact that his eyes always lingered a little too long on Eren’s hips during dance practices. And he’s done—he’s so fucking done—pretending like those dirty thoughts he had about him at night don’t exist. He’s thought about him a lot, thought about how pretty Eren’s lips would look around his cock. Thought about those striking green eyes looking up at him as he fucks his mouth. Thought about how his cum would look so good on his sun-kissed skin. And he'd thought about all of that as he fucked his own fist, biting his lip to refrain Eren’s name from escaping his mouth.

“Fuck this.” Jean tugs him back by his key-shaped pendant, sharing grunts and groans when their teeth nipped at each other’s lips. Eren’s fingers scratched against his nape, messing up his mullet like how Jean does with his bun. Their jaws clench with every movement, hairs being tugged harshly at the roots.

“You taste fucking disgusting, Jaeger,” Jean snarls before he sucks on his tongue.

Eren sinks his nails on his chest, painting angry half-moons on his skin. “You’re gonna make me vomit,” he counters but their kisses are more teeth than anything else, and if Eren can make him bleed, good.

Jean isn’t given enough time to think about anything else when the other man suddenly descends to his knees. The taller male tenses, his eyes shaking in anticipation. Eren pushes his trousers down to his mid-thighs, frees Jean’s cock, and lets it slap against his stomach. Eren glowers at the sight. He hates to admit just how fucking huge he is. He hates it even more that it only makes him want him better. “Relax, Horseface,” he says. “I’ve done this before.”

“What do you mean you’ve done—fuck—” Jean chokes the second Eren takes him into his mouth, his body slightly bending forward with his fingers fisting his bun. His mouth is warmer than he thought it would be, his teeth dangerously gliding against the pulsating vein on his cock. Ah, shit, Jean laments in his head, I’m so fucking turned on.

Giving in to his desire, he moves his hips, thrusting his cock inside Eren’s mouth. The shorter male growls back, jade eyes sending daggers to him. Eren places both hands on each side of Jean’s hips, holding him in place. He pulls away, Jean’s cock sliding heavily out of his mouth. “I get to suck your cock,” Eren lowly says, gripping tightly on his length, “But you don’t get to fuck my mouth. You got that?”

Jean swallows thickly. The dominating tone in Eren’s voice is something he hasn’t heard before. “Uh… Yeah.”

Eren bobs his head down again, trying to take as much as he can until Jean can feel his head hitting the back of his throat. He whimpers, his hold tensing around Eren’s hair, his thighs trembling.

You giggle at the sight. “You guys are turning me on.”

You step down the bed, taking a couple of strides to reach their spot. Jean’s eyes are half-lidded, hazy with lust when your hand slides up from the middle of his chest to his shoulder. You play with the end of his hair that’s plastered against his nape, damp with sweat. “Does it feel good, Sweetheart?” You ask him, using the nickname he gave you. Your other hand goes down to slip between Eren’s strands, pushing his head forward to take more of Jean’s twitching member.

Eren lets out an involuntary moan, tears prickling on the corners of his eyes. “Mmph!” He chokes, gagging around his length.

“Ssshh,” you shush him down with a smile, stroking the back of his head. “Hold it in. You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Ren? I’m sure you can handle a cock in your mouth.” Eren breathes sharply through his nose, glaring at you but it only makes you smirk wider. “If you can make him cum, I’ll give you a reward.”

Eren breaks away, gasping between coughs. “I’m gonna make you cry after this.”

“Mmm, I can’t wait.” You fasten your hold around his locks, shoving his head forward and backward. Eren lets his jaw hang loose, tasting the saltiness of Jean’s pre-cum, the tip of his nose grazing the hairs that covered his pelvis.

Your tongue is parting Jean’s thin lips when the man shudders, “Fuck, fuck,” he gasps against your mouth. “I’m gonna—”

“Cum, baby,” you whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth. “Cum in his mouth, I wanna see it. Wanna see him lap at your cock like a slut that he is.”

Eren snarls back but he has no other choice but to sit still with how tightly you’re holding him in his place. Tears mist his hazy eyes, and you wish Jean could hold it in just a little bit longer so you can see Eren cry on his cock. But this is good enough. If Jean can’t make him cry, you’ll do it yourself later.

Jean’s hips stutter when he cums, his jaw turning slack, a long, guttural moan escaping his throat. Eren breathes heavily from his nose, feeling his warm seeds filling his mouth but before he can do anything about it, you yank harshly on his hair, forcing him to face the ceilings. “Open up,” you command him, and he does, letting you take a good look at the thick cum that pools in his mouth. You giggle, satisfied by the sight. “Keep your mouth open for me.” You bend yourself forward, your face hovering above his. You spit into his mouth, startling him. Eren sinks his nails into his thighs, emerald eyes piercing yours as he thinks of ways to make you pay for what you did. Undaunted, you swipe two of your fingers on his chin to collect the cum that trickles down the skin. Jean, still dazed after his orgasm, moans when you shove your fingers inside his mouth, letting him get a taste of himself. Forcing Jean to suck on your fingers, you turn your head toward the boy who’s still waiting obediently on his knees. Smirking, you say, “Now, swallow.”

Eren keeps his eyes on you as he does, trying not to grimace because he knows you’re going to use it as another reason for you to ridicule him. Jean’s seeds leave a bitter aftertaste and he loathes it, but it’s okay. Eren will make Jean pay for that.

And you. He’s going to make you pay for that.

You’re about to land your fingers on his cheek when Eren harshly slaps your hand away. Returning to his feet, he grabs you by the neck, his palm pressing against the front of your throat, fingers curling against the sides. He kisses you roughly, hungrily, taking your breath away but you’re unsure if it’s solely because of his lips or his leans fingers that threaten to crush your windpipes. When he pulls away, your lips are parted in desperate need to refill the air in your lungs. Eren spits in your mouth, just like you did to him a minute ago, only harshly. “How do you like that?” He questions with a smirk.

You chuckle. “I love it, Daddy.” Because even if you don’t, you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of having his power over you.

Eren sweeps your feet off the floor, carrying you with one hand wrapped around your back as you tangle your legs around his waist. Right before he brings you over to the bed, you hook your fingers around Jean’s necklace, tugging him forward with you. Jean, with his legs still wobbling under his weight, nearly trips over his feet before he follows you both.

Eren throws your body onto the sheets, making you bounce once from how careless he’s being. “You’re gonna give me my reward, Sweetheart?” He asks, looking down at you with a degrading stare as he takes his leather belt out of the loops. He ties it around your throat, treating it as a leash. Yanking it forward, he forces you to sit upon the bed until you have your lips hovering a few inches below his. “Gonna be my fucking bitch for the night?”

Eren burns you with his gaze, with his kiss, with his fire. “I’ll be whatever you want, Daddy.”

“What will you offer me then?”

“Everything.” With a nudge of your head, Jean discards the rest of his clothes and joins you on the side of the bed. You tilt your head to the side as an invitation for Jean to praise your body. He eagerly latches his lips on the pulsating vein on your neck, giving kitten licks on the spot under your ear. “Do you want to fuck my mouth?” You ask him, spreading your legs and pushing the fabric of your lingerie to the side so Eren can take a good look at your protruding clit. “Or would Daddy like a taste?”

It’s fucking ridiculous just how much Eren wants you. You’re asking him this question with another man’s hands roaming your body as if you don’t care whether he exists in the room or not. Your lips might form the words that he wants to hear—that you are there to please him for the night—but the rest of your body expresses that Eren doesn’t own even the slightest part of you. God, it’s like the more you’re playing hard to get, the more he wants you. You give him the thrill he’s been looking for. Unlike other girls, you don’t succumb to him, and he’s running out of tricks trying to beat you into submission. Even when it’s obvious just how wet you are for him right now, your arrogant smirk never falters from your face.

“What?” You croon, every tone and gesture is seduction at its finest. You arch your back, making a lewd expression when Jean traps your nipple between his teeth. “Cat got your tongue, Daddy?”

Eren scoffs. “You want me to eat you out?”

“Only if Daddy wants to.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Eren slaps his hand against your cunt, making you giggle with your legs closing in reflex.

“Don’t be so mean to me, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t get to fuck me.”

“Do you think I’m waiting for your permission?”

“Of course you are.” You run a tongue over your lower lip, knowing how much it drives him insane. “Cause you like me, don’t you, Ren? You’re not gonna hurt me, not in that way. Go ahead and tell me I’m wrong.”

He grits his teeth behind tight lips. You’re a witch. You must be a goddamn witch to be playing with his mind like that.

“That’s right,” you snicker. “You just can’t wait to shut me up with your cock, can you? Though I don’t think you can even if you try.”

Eren snorts, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Jean,” he calls out and the other man lifts his head from the curve of your neck. “Give us a moment, will ya? I need to teach her a lesson.”

If he was still as turned on as he was a few minutes ago, Jean would’ve formed a protest. But with all the alcohol in his system, his cock still flaccid between his legs, he would actually be thankful to just lean back and watch the show. “She’s all yours.”

“Aaw,” you send a pout to Jean’s direction. “You’re gonna leave me with him? Just like that? What a bummer.” You spin your face toward the green-eyed boy again, a naughty twinkle in your eyes. “His cock isn’t even as huge as yours.”

That flips the switch. “Come here,” Eren growls, forcefully pulling you to the edge of the bed by the belt that circles your neck. You’re giggling, squealing in anticipation. This is your game, and he’s making all of this too easy. Standing right next to the edge of the bed, Eren orders you to sit on your heels like the obedient little girl he wants you to behave. And for once, you do as he says, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

His hand finds his belt again, twisting it around his palm to guide your face closer to him. “Stick out your tongue.” You follow his words, loosening your jaw and Eren dips his head to suck on it before he encloses his lips around yours. “Now let’s see what that pretty fucking mouth can do.” His voice trickles smoothly like honey.

Eren skims his hand over your throat before he reaches up. His thumb glides along your lips while his other four hold you firmly by the jaw. You dart out your tongue, swirling it around his tip before you close your lips prettily around it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “Treat it like how you’re gonna treat my fucking cock.”

You moan around his thumb, sucking it a few times before you let it slide out of your mouth. Eren slaps you again, and you titter even when it stings. He plunges his third and fourth fingers into your mouth, pushing them as deep as he can until his knuckles graze your upper lip.

“Don’t choke.” He tilts up his chin haughtily. “Hold it in. You’re a big girl, aren’t you, baby?”

He’s throwing your words back at you. You almost laugh. This fucking bitch.

He’s thrusting his fingers inside your mouth so strongly, it’s almost impossible not to gag but you try your best not to. Your breathing rags when he has his other hand pulling on his belt again, its leather constricting around your throat.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Eren says, smiling both coquettishly and condescendingly when he sees your eyes start to water. “You’re gonna cry, Sweetheart?”

He snatches his fingers away, a thick string of drool dribbling down your chin. Your chest is heaving up and down as you cough, which makes Eren simper at the sight. You’re beginning to look wrecked with your lipstick smeared to your cheek and he loves it.

Not wanting to lose, you slide your hand down his chest to the bulge inside his pants. “Why don’t you close your damn mouth for a second, and use this on me instead?”

“I’m glad you asked.”

He unzips his pants, pushing them low enough until he can free himself. Eren, just like Jean, is above normal size. He might be an inch shorter than him, but he has more girth, more pretty veins on the side. It’s already leaking pre-cum from all your teasing, twitching when he feels your warm breath caressing his head. He skims his tip against your lips, tracing the shape of your conceited smile.

“Well, well, well,” you snicker, taking him in your hand and giving him slow, lazy pumps. “Guess you’re not as small as I thought you were.” You reward him with a kiss on his tip. “Still not as long as Jean’s though, which is disappointing.”

Eren has had enough. He can handle your teasing, he can handle the temptation in your gaze, but he can only do it for so long. Without warning, he flips you over, bringing you down until your spine is pressed flat against the sheets, your head dangling over the edge. He slaps the side of his cock against your mouth. “Let’s see if you can still use your mouth after this.” And he pushes in, sliding past your lips and teeth, aiming to hit the back of your throat without waiting for you to adjust. You gag around his length and he can see the way your throat is contracting. It’s beautiful. He doesn't have to imagine—he can vividly see where he is inside your mouth, how far he is down your throat.

“Gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess,” he warns, his tone filled with nothing but mockery. “You better watch your teeth.”

He thrusts forward, one hand still gripping tightly around the belt while his other one takes possession of your breast. You try to relax your jaw as much as you can, eyes shut close with a frown breaking on your temple. Your nose flares as you try to breathe, his testicles smacking against your face with every thrust. It’s the first time someone has ever face-fucked you upside down, and although it frightens you, it also sparks thrill on your skin.

Eren releases you only when he feels you tapping your hands against his thigh, unable to breathe. Coughing, you turn back to your stomach, panting frantically for air. He goes down to his knees, bringing two fingers under your chin to lift your face. Now that your faces are on the same level, he can see hot tears painting your eyes, smudging your mascara. His fingertips are delicate on your cheek, nothing like the way he moved his hips earlier. "You okay?" he asks.

Your vision is too blurry to see the genuinely concerned look on his face. Catching your breath, you try to keep your cocky demeanor in check. “That's all you got, Daddy?”

Your remark stuns him but then his eyes darken. Smiling too innocently to be real, Eren rises back to his feet. He tosses the rest of his clothes to the floor, pitching his voice a little louder when he says, "You're ready for more, Horceface?”

Of course, he is. Jean has been dying to take part in the game again. He's been watching you all the time, observing the way your body jerk with almost every thrust of Eren’s sinful hips. But Jean has always been the more mature one, hasn't he? Kinder, too. “Don’t you need to take a break?” He asks you, and Eren scoffs at the question. You answer with, “No, I don’t,” at the same time as he replies, “No, she doesn’t.”

And that settles it.

Seven minutes later, you have Jean lying underneath you with his cock pulsating deep inside you. You’re bouncing on his lap, your breasts mimicking the motion when they're not caught under Jean's hands. Eren is kneeling right beside his head, stuffing his mouth with his cock. You can feel Jean’s hold around your hips tighten when Eren slides his hand to the back of his skull, taking a handful of his ash-brown hair. “How do you like my cock in your mouth, Leader?” He husks. “Every time you open those pretty lips of yours all I can think about is making you gag around my cock.”

You can feel Jean jolting inside you. Mirroring the expression Eren has on his face, you ask the taller male a question. “Oh, so you like it?” You chime in with a lopsided smile. “You like being talked down like this, don’t you? How very surprising. The charismatic leader of AXIS likes to be degraded in bed.”

Jean blushes, about to move his face away but Eren keeps him still. “I knew those lips would look pretty around my dick," he breathes out, "Look at you taking it in like a fucking whore.” He emphasizes his last words with a string of hard thrusts, making Jean moan harder around his length. Eren throws his head back, drowning in bliss. “Oh, fuck—your mouth feels so good—wanna fill you up with my fucking cum, Jean.”

“What about me?” you shoot him an impish grin, garnering Eren’s attention back to you.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart, you’ll get your turn,” he promises you with a wink. Wrapping the belt around his hand again, he pulls you close. You lean forward in reflex with your hands resting on Jean’s chest, lips meeting Eren’s halfway as he circles his other hand around your throat. “I’m gonna stuff your mouth with my cock again right after we’re finished with him.” Eren takes your lower lip between his teeth. “Gonna cum down your throat so hard, you’re gonna remember how I taste for weeks.”

“Mmm, yes, Daddy.” You grind your hips, biting back a moan when Jean’s pelvis rubs against your clit. Your walls flutter around his cock, robbing a low groan from his throat.

Jean suddenly lifts you by your waist, rising you as high as he can in the air so he can slide himself out of you. Orgasm hits him like the storm and he reaches his high with thick white strings splattering all over his stomach. You blink in surprise, exchanging stares with Eren who is just as startled. Then you both laugh.

Releasing himself from Jean’s mouth, Eren chuckles, “That’s the second time you’ve cummed tonight, Horseface,” he mocks, perceiving the way Jean drapes his arm over his face, hoping that it would be enough to conceal his rosy cheeks.

“Shut up,” he hisses back, deeply mortified.

“What, you can’t even hold it in for ten minutes?” Eren taunts, trading giggles with you. “Have you ever satisfied your women in bed? Seems like to me you don't know how to fuck—”

“Oh my fucking God—” Jean abruptly sits on the bed, almost making you stumble off his lap. You’re still laughing quietly when you try to soothe him down with a kiss.

Eren swipes two fingers across Jean’s stomach, coating his pads with his essence. "Come on," he invites you. "It's only fair."

Rolling your eyes, you bring your face closer to his, darting out your tongue. Eren smears Jean's cum all over your lips and tongue but he smashes his lips against yours so he can share the taste. Jean watches with his face flushed, unprepared to see what's happening before him.

Eren, even though he was so harsh with him before, kneels behind the taller male and wraps his arms around his shoulders from behind.

“It’s okay, Horseface,” he whispers right next to his ear, taking his earlobe between his teeth. “Perhaps you just need some practice. Now sit tight and watch.” Eren’s eyes seem to glow as they catch yours. “I’m gonna teach you how to fuck your woman.”

“Am I your woman, Mr. Jaeger?” You tease him as he meets you in the middle of the bed. You share a kiss, a little too sweet than intended, but you know it’s only a taste of what’s coming.

“For the night.” Eren slides his hand between your legs, talented fingers playing with your clit. “You know, for the little devil that you are, you do have a pretty cunt.” You spread your thighs to let him probe his fingers over your entrance. He rubs his digits around your hole, coating them with your juices before he retracts his hand. Keeping his eyes on yours, he sucks on his fingers. He hums in content, sending shivers down your spine with how sensual he’s being. “Taste fucking sweet too.”

You’re at your limit. This sexual tension between you and him needs to be released. You hate to admit it, but you’ve been wanting him for much longer than you thought. Even way before you started this job. You clamp your fingers around his wrist, stopping him. “No more foreplay.”

His eyes glint in desire. “Then, say it. Say that you want me.”

You take a deep breath, your patience thinning. “I want you.”

The satisfaction in his smile has never been this crystal clear. “All right.” He kisses you softly, tongue slowly pushed in and plundered. “Let’s give him a show he won’t forget, shall we?”

But his next move is anything but soft. He turns you over, slamming your body down to the bed, and keeping your face pressed against the sheets as he rests the heel of his palm between your shoulder blades. He smacks your behind—once, twice—leaving burning handprints on your skin. “Ass in the air, baby girl.”

You hiss in both pain and excitement as you get into position. He’s being as rough as always as if the sweet kisses you just shared with him a few seconds ago were nothing but your imagination. You follow his order, lift your hips, and Eren positions himself behind you. He spits onto his palm, lathering his cock before he lets his tip glide against your folds. “I think I’ve made you cry twice before.” He bends forward, murmuring the words against the skin that covers your spine. “But you keep denying that you didn’t.”

“Because that’s the truth,” you heckle him.

“Well then,” he pushes in, burying himself inside you right to the hilt. You almost mewl, taken aback by the friction. You can feel the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m just gonna have to fuck you hard until you sob out my name, aren’t I?”

When he starts to move, he leaves you gasping. He’s not as big as Jean but he stretches you and fills you in a way that makes you twist your fingers against the sheets. He pumps into you, furiously, groaning in rapture, and building on the shockwaves that already coursed through your body ever since your encounter with Jean. But Eren takes you higher, letting you experience something new—this emotional wrenching, this surge of pleasure and passion, all wrapped into one writhing mess of bodies slick with heat.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Have you ever been fucked this hard before? You don't think you have. If you had, you sure as hell would've remembered it.

Eren steals your hand away from holding you up on the bed. He pins your wrist against your spine, driving himself harder into you. He’s rubbing against your insides so perfectly, that even if he’s not hitting your G-spot just right, it feels like he is even with the slightest sway of his hips.

“That’s right, baby,” he chuckles between heavy breaths, hearing you keen. “That’s more like it.”

The fact that you still feel so fucking tight after taking Jean’s cock inside you makes him ferocious. He leans forward to sink his teeth in the juncture of your neck, making your muscles taut from the pain. With a filthy smile, Eren straightens his back, grabs your other hand, and pins them together behind your back. He keeps them that way, his hand large enough to hold your wrists together. You're whimpering with your forehead planted on the bed, but not for long.

Wanting to take a step further, Eren launches his other hand forward, finding home in your strands before he yanks harshly on the roots. “Ah—” Your eyes are fixated on the ceiling, your hands restrained against your back as Eren propels forward in one hard slam of his hips, hitting your deepest part. He doesn’t give you a chance to breathe—a chance to do anything. He just keeps fucking you like he owns you. And maybe he does, for the night, at least.

You’re close. You’re so close, your body is shaking. “Eren—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he chuckles, picking up his pace. His thrust turns shallow but it’s precisely because of that, that you feel the knots inside your stomach tightening. “God, you feel so fucking good—”

“Ren, I’m gonna cum—”

“Yeah?” He breaks away, flipping you over to your back. You’re whining from the loss. Just a few more thrusts and you would’ve cummed all over his cock. But Eren knew that, that’s why he didn’t.

“I fucking hate you,” you mutter harshly, watching him glide his cock over your folds, slapping it against your clit. It’s so sensitive that your whole body jerk at the sensation.

Eren titters. “How do you like being edged, baby?”

“Eren—damn it—just fuck me.”

“Only if you beg.” His grin was devilish, which suited him so well. “You know how to beg, don’t you, baby girl?”

You almost snarl. He has you right where he wants you. If you had more patience, you would tease him a little more, giving him the taste of his own medicine. But it’s been over an hour—probably two or three, you've lost count—since you started touching each other and you’ve never felt your body aching this much for a release. “Please,” you whisper through gritted teeth.

“What was that, love?” He heard you. You know he did. He just wanted to see your dignity breaking to pieces.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum—ah!” Eren rams himself back in before you can finish, throwing your legs over his shoulders, folding your body in half. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing his digit vigorously around your sensitive nub. The stimulation is too much and you find yourself sobbing out his name, just like he wants you to.

"Eren, fuck, please, please, please, I want to cum."

It’s beautiful the way you moan it, better than anything he'd imagined, making him feel a thousand things at once. “Ah,” he rasps, releasing a breath as his half-lidded eyes gleam in satisfaction. “Finally.”

And he lets you cum on his cock, lets you clench and unclench your walls around him, lets you surrender in his arms. Your entire body convulses, not accustomed to the intensity of pleasure that hit you at once. Eren doesn’t stop—he won’t, not yet. Your mind reels from the overstimulation, your body still quivering.

You expect him to not care and continuously fuck you hard until he finds his own release. But Eren slows down his pace, sliding your legs down from his shoulders and letting them ensnare his waist. When you part your lips to him, he touches you with his tongue and he moans your name, softly like a soulmate would do. His lips, for the first time, feel real. Honest. Sweet.

Maybe it’s because you’re still drowning in delirium that your mind starts to build fantasies on its own. Because right now, you’re imagining that this would be how he would kiss you if you were his lover. The way your bodies complete each other, the way he whispers your name with his lips brushing against your ear, the way he calls you, "Beautiful. You're so beautiful. I want you to belong to me. Want to make you mine.”

Or maybe it's simply because you've just been denying yourself for so long. This attraction between you, this tension, and the electricity that zaps through your body—what if they all mean something more?

Eren keeps your mouths attached as he slowly regains his pace. “I’m close,” he grunts, sinking his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, baby, I want to cum inside you.”

That’s maybe why you find yourself sighing out his name, winding your arms around his shoulders, and taking the shell of his ears between your lips. “Then, do it. I want to feel you inside me, Eren. I want to feel all of you.”

And he does, his low groan painting the side of your neck, his fingers lacing around yours as he drags your hand over your head. He’s panting hard, his hips losing their rhythm. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, your free hand slipping between his strands, accidentally unfastening his hair tie as you card your fingers through them. His locks fall to frame his cheeks and he presses his temple against yours as he catches his breath. When your hand rests on his upper arm, you can feel the quivers that run through his muscles.

“Did it feel good?” You ask him, and for the first time that night—or perhaps, ever since you met him—your smile is heartfelt, glazed with affection, tender with adoration.

He returns it with his own lips curving upwards, just as sweet, just as soft. He kisses you once, languid and chaste. “It felt amazing. You?”

“Don’t get cocky, but…” You wind your arms around his neck, playing with the baby hair on his nape. “That’s probably one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.”

Eren beams back with a smile that is just as youthful as his face. “I’m glad.” He bends his head down, nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours. “Hey, what if we go get—”

“Yo, asswipe!”

Jean’s voice strikes like thunder, snapping you both awake from whatever it was that shrouded you. You’ve completely forgotten that he was there, watching you the whole time.

Eren breaks away from you, turning his head over toward the man who’s leaning his back against the headboard, lounging. Jean throws his hand in the air. “What the fuck was that?”

The shorter male clears his throat. Maybe Jean can’t see it from where he is, but being this close to you, you can see the flush that blooms on Eren’s cheeks. “And that,” Eren says, trying his best to display his arrogant smirk but he’s not fooling anyone in the room. “—is how you fuck your women.”

“No,” Jean snorts. “That’s how you made sweet, sweet love to your girlfriend, you pretentious asshole.”

Your face bursts in flames. Eren’s probably does too. “Shut up, Jean, you want me to fuck you instead? Maybe that’ll teach you a lesson.”

“I think I’ve had enough of your dick, thank you,” Jean grimaces, sticking out his tongue. His eyes drift toward you, frowning when he sees you unfastening the belt from around your throat, unwinding it in the air as you shift closer to him. “What are you doing?”

“Considering Eren is a bad teacher.” You’re much better than the brunette in concealing your emotions. “I’m thinking about teaching you a lesson myself.” Eren blinks in confusion before his realization sinks in. Then, he smiles. Wicked and smug.

Jean shudders, both in horror and excitement, as you spread the belt between your hands. Eren drapes his arm around your shoulder. Both of you look casual, but the question you’re asking is anything but.

“So how do you feel about being tied up, Leader?”

***

Smokes fill the air as you're lying down on the bed. Your body is still bare from head to toe, skin glistening with sweat. You're savoring the aftertaste of your orgasm, nestled between the two men with your bedcover draping over the bottom half of your bodies.

Eren, just like Jean, is lying on his back, his key-shaped pendant rests above his heart. He takes a drag of his cigarette before he passes it to you and lets you do the same. You mirror his action before you hand it over to Jean.

"So that was wild," Eren comments, breaking the silence.

Jean inhales around his cigar, blowing puffs of smoke to paint the air. “I've had wilder nights.”

“Shut the fuck up, bro, you cummed, like, four times.”

Jean's long arm stretches past you, smacking Eren hard on his chest. "Three!"

You giggle, the sound feels like music to their ears and a couple of seconds later, they share your laughter. “Man, I’m glad they hired you,” Jean says, staring fondly at you.

You scrunch your nose cutely at him. “You certainly didn’t think that way when we first met.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Great. I’m only gonna be your assistant for another week, though.”

“What?” It's Eren who replies, turning around to face you with his body props by his elbow. “Why?”

“Cause I’m tired of your shits." He pouts at your answer. Stifling a laugh, you retrieve the cigarette back from Jean's hand. “Come on now, Eren, we both know you aren’t a pleasure to work with." Jean snickers at your comment but you quickly silence him with, "Neither are you, Genius.”

"Not a pleasure?" Eren, despite his age and the attitude he showcased a few minutes ago, only pouts harder. “Didn’t I just make you cum, though? Like, four times?”

You wish you could correct him like Jean did but no, that's about right. "S-shut up."

When silence comes to sit like an old friend, the three of you are musing over the same thoughts in a slightly different way. “Well, then..." Jean pauses. "What’s gonna happen now?”

“Keep it between us and move on, what else?” You voice out, handing over the cigarette to the brunette. Eren sulks, even in a more childish way than Armin does. Somehow, after what happened, he becomes much more expressive. And you wonder if he had always been like this from the start but you hadn't been able to notice this side of him until now. “Now, now, boys," you say. "No need to look so upset. You’ll find another set of boobs tomorrow, I’m sure.”

"Yeah, okay," Jean snorts, brooding in his own way.

“A week,” Eren states, startling you both. “We still got a week, right? There’s still a lot amount of sex we can do until then.”

You're left dumbfounded before you titter, “That’s true, I guess. No strings attached?”

Eren, chewing on his lip, slides his hand underneath the cover, moving it closer to yours. You feel his pinky grazing tentatively against your own before you lay out your palm and he intertwines your fingers with his. Smiling sheepishly to himself, he says, "No strings attached."

You feel your heart warmed by the sight. Averting your gaze to see the other man, you toss him the same question. "What about you, Mr. Kirstein? Are you in?"

He dramatically sighs, shrugging. “Well, I mean, if you insist."

And when you laugh, Eren can taste it with his lips. When you drift away to sleep, Jean protects you with his arms.

And tomorrow...

Well, let's see what happens next.

***

This was long as fuck I'm so sorry, but hey HC time!

imagine idol ren dancing like this:

His outfits on the stage:

This video right here is literally how I imagine idol!ren to look like (the hair, the outfit, the way he dances, his expressions, his BODY ROLLS)

Idol!Jean's solo stage be like (is this magic mike LMAO):

The kind of fanservice EreJean do on stage:

Giving my biggest thanks and kisses to Sandra, Joli, Coi and Ben for reading this for me beforehand and giving me input/feedback as always. I love you girls ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging:

The ticking clock on your wall showed that it was seven past eight in the morning. You and Eren had only been getting two hours of sleep, your bodies still exhausted after your late-night—actually, early-morning—activities. Eren was still sleeping on his stomach with his arms folded underneath your pillow, his face half-buried in it with his lips slightly parted to release his breath. He barely makes any sound or movement when he sleeps, and that morning was no exception. Similar to you, there wasn’t a single layer of cloth covering his body, except for the blanket that draped low over his hips. His backside, shoulders, and upper arms were exposed, wonderfully so, and you took as much time as you wanted to marvel at them. Even when his muscles were relaxed, his body was still a sight to behold.

You were still tired but you forced yourself to wake up. This was the opportunity you had been waiting for and you weren't planning to miss it. It was a rare thing for you to be able to climb down the bed without him realizing it. Usually, even if he was in a deep sleep, he would still notice when you tried to disentangle yourself from him. He would wrap his limbs tighter around your body, groaning in his sleep as a sign of protest when he felt you moving, croaking out, “Stay.”

Cuddling was nice, especially when your, uh… fuck-buddy was this warm. But the thing was, you’d been wanting to take pictures of him sleeping for, well, your personal collection, so to speak. It was endearing, you thought, the way he looked when he was sinking deep in his slumber. The way he seemed so unguarded, his frown disappearing, his face looking youthful, embodying the innocence of a child. His beauty intensified. You wanted to, at least, have a photo of him like this.

So, once you’d dressed in nothing but his sweater, your teeth still tasted like your minty toothpaste from two hours ago, you grabbed your phone and turned on your camera. You took pictures of his face, silently giggling to yourself. “So cute,” you mumbled, satisfied with your close-up shots. Feeling a bit naughty, you decided to step it up a notch. “God, I’m such a pervert for doing this.” But you couldn’t help it. With a slide of your thumb on the screen, you changed it to video mode. “Please, don’t wake up,” you whispered before you pressed the button. It started recording.

You tried to make excuses in your head so you wouldn’t feel too guilty about it. When he goes on tours, this will help me remember him, you told yourself numerous times, no matter how stupid it sounded. God, he’s definitely going to delete this if he finds out.

But you didn’t stop, not now, when you were already this far. Carefully, you sat on your heels right beside his sleeping form. You aimed the camera to his face, reaching out your fingers to carefully brush his long hair to the side. He seemed a bit feminine when his hair wasn’t tied in a bun, but only because he was so beautiful to begin with.

Eren moved lightly in his sleep and you held your breath, praying that he wouldn’t wake up. When he didn’t, you continued further south, recording the way his strands brushed against his neck, the dip between his shoulder blades and—

A set of long fingers curled themselves around your wrist and you lost grip of your phone. As it fell to the bed, Eren flipped himself to his back and yanked you forward until you were sitting on his stomach. “Eren—” Your eyes widened in shock—and horror—when you caught a pair of jade green eyes—still hazy from sleep—staring into yours. “I—I can explain.”

But you didn’t need to as he wouldn’t be able to comprehend your words anyway. He was still half-asleep, terribly so, though his grip around your wrist would speak otherwise. “What are you… doing..?” He husked, sounding almost incoherent from how much he slurred his words.

“Nothing,” you softly replied, casting him a sweet smile. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

And he did. As easy as that, which was both a relief and a surprise. His grip around you loosened until his hand landed back on the bed. He waned back into his dreamland, body relaxing once more.

Heaving a sigh, you thanked the Lord for letting yourself get away with this. You were about to crawl away from him when you noticed one thing.

Eren was hard.

His cock was springing back to life like it did every morning but not once had you ever gained enough interest to do something about it. Usually because a) you tend to wake up late so you rushed yourself to the bathroom to get ready for work, or b) Eren already took advantage of you in your sleep by pressing your legs tightly together and sliding his dick between your supple thighs until he came all over your stomach (this would usually end up with you kicking him out of bed in anger and him making you breakfast featuring his signature fluffy scrambled eggs to make up for his indecency).

Right now, though… Right now you wanted to do something about it.

It was a bit frightening, the way you felt so naughty that day. It was like you were possessed because normally, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You wouldn’t place your phone on the nightstand, aiming the camera toward the bed, and press record so you can videotape everything that was going to happen. And knowing the filthy thoughts that swirl inside your head, something bad was definitely going to happen.

It would just be for my collection, you tried to reason with yourself. I’ll let him know about this, and if he hates it, we’ll delete it. No one else has to find out.

Okay, I’m doing this.

You settled yourself between his legs, taking a hold of his length with one hand. You stroked him lightly and he didn’t lift a muscle. You tentatively gave him a lick, waiting for a reaction but it never came. I hope I’m not going to hell for this, you thought as you swirled your tongue around his tip. You had your eyes closed, taking a deep breath through your nose before you went further down on him. You tried to cover everything to his base, almost gagging when you felt him hitting the back of your throat. Eren was big but he felt bigger inside your mouth. Heavy. Giving up, you released his cock with a pop. Right at that moment, a hand landed on your head.

“Don’t stop,” Eren’s voice echoed deeply, and without waiting for you to react, he pushed you down by the back of your skull, lifting his hips at the same time to shove himself up to the hilt.

“Mmph!” Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes by his third thrust. You choked around him, gasping when he finally released you, coughing a few times with thick ropes of saliva dribbling down your chin.

Eren didn’t waste time. He threw you down to the bed, your face sinking on the softness of your pillow. He tossed the blanket to the side, pushing the hem of your sweater—his sweater—to the middle of your back to expose your behind. “Eren—” Grabbing you by the legs, he yanked you toward him until he had his cock rubbing against the crease of your ass. He curled his fingers around his cock which was still moist from your saliva. “Wanna fuck you,” he slurred, slapping the side of his length against your cheek. You were tensed but he didn’t notice. He barely noticed anything. Right now, he just felt like he was dreaming.

Eren pushed it in, making your breath hitch in your throat, your fingers fisting against the sheets. He was stretching you out in a way that would've been painful if you hadn't been with him a few hours ago.

He didn’t make any sound during the first few thrusts, and you tried to muffle yours by sinking your teeth hard against your lower lip. His moves were out of rhythm, sometimes fast sometimes slow, sometimes deep, sometimes shallow, but that was exactly what drove you insane. He was unpredictable and never gentle. Not like how he usually held you, as he was still too drowsy to care. You wondered if he had always wanted to fuck you like this, to lose control and focus on what made him feel good instead of devoting himself to grant you your pleasure. Because even though he had been rough with you several times before, he was never like this. The thought of it didn't scare you. It only sent more thrill coursing through your veins.

“Tight,” he grunted, his nails sinking into the supple skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. "So fucking tight." He spread his palm and smacked you hard, causing your body to jolt in surprise. The stinging pain felt like a zap of electricity and you loved it. He slapped your ass again, rolling his hips as he did, half-lidded eyes observing the way his cock slid in and out of you as your body shuddered with each spank. When your skin was bruised like a canvas being painted angrily by a deranged artist, he shifted his hands to the curves of your hips, holding you firmly with both hands and leaving no room for you to escape as he plunged himself into you with more force. You were gritting your teeth to contain your moans before, but now your mouth was separated in a silent scream, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix dangerously.

Fuck, he's so deep, you whimpered, your arms shaking as they support your body.

“Your cunt’s so fucking tight, goddamn.” You once thought that he sounded the sexiest when he was buried deep inside you, his mouth shaping filthy words against your ear. That was still true, of course, but now that you got to hear him like this, with this voice sounding ten times hoarser than ever and heavy from sleep, you needed to re-evaluate your statement.

Your thoughts were so occupied with the feelings of his cock rubbing against your walls, that you started to forget you were recording the whole thing. The shyness in you had melted off. Right now, they were only desperation, body aching to find your release.

Eren’s hand found your head and he pushed it down until you have your cheek pressed flat against the sheets. After doing this with him so many times, you already knew what to do. Keeping your upper half glued to the bed, you lifted your hips higher in the air, wanting to meet his every thrust. He thanked you by slapping his palm against your ass cheek again, loving the way your skin turned red in the shape of his hand. “Bounce back,” he said breathily, almost in a whisper as if he was talking to himself, “Bounce back on my fucking dick, baby, come on.”

You complied and he moaned, squeezing your behind with both hands as tightly as he could until you mewled from the sensation. “Harder,” he commanded, spanking you again. “Fucking take that cock like you own it.”

He was never like this. Even in your dirtiest imagination, he wasn’t like this, which was why you didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that everything he was doing right now turned you on.

When you moaned, his hips snapped harder and you knew, that you had the same power over him. Maybe, just like him, it was time for you to let loose as well. “Let me hear you,” you said between obscene moans, landing your palms on the sheets before you raise your upper half in the air, positioning yourself on all fours. “Tell me—ah—Tell me what you want to do to me.”

The sounds you were making… They were driving him insane. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, gathered it in a messy ponytail before he yanked your head back until your eyes were forced to stay glued to the ceiling. “Wanna fuck you until you're screaming my name,” he growled lowly right against your ear, his other hand squeezing your breast so tightly it was almost painful. "I want to feel your body break open around me." He was still ramming his hips against yours, your spine glued to his chest as he leaned forward. “Wanna fill you up with my cum until I see it dripping all over your thighs.”

He released your breast, moving his left hand to the front of your throat instead while keeping his right one around your hair. “W-what else?” You were getting choked, lightly at first, harder by the second. “Wanna make you my bitch,” he rasped, his nails digging into your skin. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”

You trembled. There was no way he would talk to you like that if he was fully awake. No. He respected you too much. But now that he was still half-dreaming, his mouth ran without a filter. It didn’t help that you both had too much alcohol before bed either, with Eren almost consuming half a bottle of gin himself.

“Yes, please…” You encouraged him, bucking your hips harder as you both moved back and forth. Everything felt so good that you could barely tell the difference whether you were on the verge of cumming or not. It just felt like you were already on the brink from the start. “Ren…”

“Jesus, fuck,” he moaned, shoving your face down to the pillow and holding you firmly by the nape. His hands found your hips again, fucking you deep and raw until your jaw grew slack on your face. “I fucking love it when you call me like that. Again, baby. Do it again.”

“Ren!” His powerful thrust made you cry out his name in a way you had never done before. It was embarrassing how fast you felt the knots in your stomach tautening in response. “Rennie—I’m close—”

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes—“ you sobbed out. “Yes, please—”

“Harder,” he emphasized with a drive of his hips. “Want you to fucking scream it out. Want everyone to hear how desperate you are for my cock.”

“I want to cum!” You’ve lost all sense of control. You were seeing stars behind your eyelids, the knots inside your stomach tightened and unfastened at once. “Please make me cum, Ren, I want it!”

And with his permission, you did, orgasm washing over you at once, your body convulsing in pleasure. “Ah, you’re cumming—” he shuddered, his hips turning erratic at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him. “Fuck, baby, I can feel it—“

Usually, Eren would slow down, letting you ride your orgasm until the tremors left your body but not right now. Not waiting for you to catch your breath, he whirled you around to your back. Eren grabbed you by your legs and spread them as wide as he could, holding your ankles high in the air. He positioned himself on his knees right before you, his thrusts turning shallow and fast—more desperate.

He then pressed your legs together, no gap between your thighs, making you feel even tighter than before. "Shit, you're so—" He tossed his head back as he finished his sentence with a grunt, drowning in rapture. The second he brought his gaze to your face again, you were almost burned by the intensity of it. With one arm hugging your thighs to his chest, he let your heels dangle on one shoulder. “No one could fuck you like this but me, you got that?”

You swallowed, your lungs starting to catch on fire from how breathless you were. “Y-yes.”

“Say it.”

“No one—” you flinched. With the angle he was going, he was grazing the right spot that made your toes curl. “N-no one could fuck me like this but you.”

“You’re mine.” His hand settled on your chest, kneading the soft mound.

“I’m yours—ah!” You yelped when he smacked your breast, but it wasn't from the pain. It was from the thrill of it all. You took a sharp breath when he held it firmly under his hand once more.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

Another smack and this time, you whimpered. His hand moved to take a hold of your jaw, forcing your mouth open. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!”

He switched position again, now placing your feet on his chest, creating space for harder, deeper penetration. “God, your fucking pussy feels so good.” Eren used you like a sex doll, treated you like a slave and you let him. “So fucking wet for me.” He curved his hips, making sure he hit that spot that made pretty tears fall from your eyes. “Touch yourself.”

Flustered, you did as he said, fondling your breasts with both hands.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

You gulped, squeezing your chest harder as you maintained eye contact. Eren’s gaze traversed your body, the usual adoration in his eyes was gone, replaced by bottomless desire. He supported himself with the heel of his palm resting against your collarbones, picking up his already rapid pace as he tightened his fingers around your throat.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice obscene. “Tell me where you want it.”

“Inside—cum inside me—ah, Ren—”

Your moan of his name encouraged him and he went feral. He pushed your legs apart, your chests glued together as he smashed his lips hard against yours, tongue slipping in to taste the inside of your mouth. “Fuck, so good,” he panted, “You’re so good, baby girl—” Every pound of his hips knocked the air out of your lungs and you whimpered, fingers twisting against the sheets.

Eren cummed with his teeth sinking deep in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, growling like a fucking beast that he was as he muffled his groan. Bruises were forming on your hips, as well as the nasty bites on your neck and breasts. You were both breathing hard, your body cemented completely to the sheets underneath you with his chest resting on top of yours.

“God, baby…” he moaned, still rubbing his cock lazily against your insides. He pulled all the way back, enjoying the way his cum was seeping out of your hole and trickling down to the crease of your ass before it stained the sheets underneath. He then pushed it back in, making you keen as you both were still sensitive from the aftershock of your orgasm. For a moment, you both stayed still in that position, catching your breath.

Eren nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sleepy...”

“Oh, are you now?” You snort, voice laced with amusement as you noted the differences in his behavior.

He nodded. “And hungry.”

“Once you've cummed, you’re always like this.” You tried to push him away by the shoulder. “Can you move?”

“No.”

“You're heavy.”

“I know.”

“Eren, I can’t breathe.” Only then did he shift to lay on his side, cuddling close to you until there wasn’t even an inch separating your spine and his chest. “Good. Now get your dick away from me.”

“No,” he mumbled, pressing his hips against yours and keeping his cock buried deep inside. "Let's stay like this."

“Are you kidding me?” There was no answer. Eren’s breathing turned slow, his cock still faintly throbbing inside you. “Don't go to sleep!”

“Sshh…” He painted a lazy kiss on your nape. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll fuck you the second it gets hard again.”

As tempting as that sounded, you kept trying your best to push him away but he didn’t budge. After a while, you gave up and stayed put.

Now that the room had returned to silence, you noticed your phone was still sitting on your nightstand. You reached out a hand, stretching it as far as possible to grab it. The phone, as expected, was still recording and you felt blood pooling on your face. You tapped your thumb on the screen and the video was saved in your gallery.

Swallowing thickly, you clicked play.

“Wanna make you my cumslut.”

“Oh, Lord,” you covered your face with one hand, still peeking at the video through your fingers.

“Please make me cum, Ren, I want it!”

“Okay, I’m deleting this.” You couldn’t handle it. Watching your body being bent in such an indecent way, hearing your mouth spouting out the words that normally you wouldn’t have the bravery to say—everything was too much. You hesitated, however, as it would probably be the only time he would fuck you like that.

Then a thought appeared.

And you smirked.

***

Eren sleeps till noon, and he only wakes up because he falls off the bed. He doesn’t bother to put on some clothes, simply steals the blanket away and drapes it down his body, all the way from his head down to his feet. The blanket is dragged across the carpeted floor as he makes his way toward the kitchen, hugging the thick fabric around him.

“Morning,” he mumbles, finding you sitting on the kitchen counter with a magazine in one hand and a cup of coffee in another. He still has his eyes squinted, trying to adjust from the sunlight that seeps through the window.

You almost laugh at the way he looks. “Are you still naked?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Can’t find my clothes.”

“You didn’t even bother to look, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, my head hurts. Do you have some aspirin?”

Shaking your head as you chuckle to yourself, you jump down to your feet and reach up to rummage through your top drawers. Eren steals your coffee from the counter, taking a sip as he moves toward the couch. He sticks out his tongue once the taste explodes in his mouth, “Bleh, too sweet.” Placing down the mug on the table, he lies down on his side on the sofa, curling up inside his blanket like a cocoon.

“What are you, a three-year-old?” You mutter as you approach him. "You look like a burrito."

"A sexy burrito?"

"Sure."

“Well, like I said,” he mumbles in a low groan, snuggling against the cushion. “My head hurts. Remind me not to drink too much next time.”

“I’ve got something to cheer you up,” you smirk, settling yourself down on the floor with your back leaning against the foot of your couch. You gather your phone in your hands, skimming through your gallery. Showing your sex tape to him is utterly mortifying, but you know he’s gonna feel much, much worse about it, knowing the nasty things he said in the video.

“Please don’t tell me it’s a dick pic of your ex,” he mutters, looking past your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your phone screen. “The last dick pic I found on your phone still traumatized me to this day.”

“Eren, that was your dick pic.” You roll your eyes.

“Lies. I know what my dick looks like. It's not that hideous. Also, I’ve never sent you any.”

You give him a look. “You really do the stupidest shit when you’re drunk, huh?” Not letting him say another comment, you play the video.

“Wanna make you my bitch,” his voice can be heard through the speakers. Eren’s eyes shoot wide open, sitting up on the couch so fast, he almost tumbles over. “Wanna make you my cumslut.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,” he’s panicking, his mouth spitting bullets as he attempts to snatch your phone away from your hands. Suppressing your laughter, you stand up on your feet, moving away from him. “Babe, hold on, what the fuck was that?!”

“That was you this morning,” you grin, turning up the volume.

“Want you to fucking scream it out. Want everyone to hear how desperate you are for my cock.”

“Oh my God.” He places both hands on his head, looking absolutely horrified. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—”

“Chill, Ren.”

“How in the—why did I—" He almost dislocates his jaw. "I said that?! To you?!”

You’re chortling, having the time of your life. “Yes, you did. You said you wanted to make me your cumslut.”

“Oh my God.” He turns pale, looking like he’s seconds away from throwing up. “Jesus Christ, baby, I can't believe I said that to you. I'm so sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be.” You kneel before him, taking his hands away from his head and acting as serious as you can when you say, “I want to be your cumslut.”

Colors drain out of his face, except crimson that stays permanent on his cheeks. “Please don’t say that ever again.”

You feign disappointment, pouting at him as you bat your eyelashes like a child. “You don’t want me to be your cumslut, Rennie?”

"I—" He lets out a sharp breath, fixing his gaze on the ceiling as he can feel his face catching fire. “I literally can’t look at you right now.”

“Daddy."

"Stop."

"I want to be your cumslut.”

“Shut up.”

“I want to be your little bitch.”

“All right, that’s it.” You’re guffawing when he lifts and tosses your body over his shoulder. “We need to clean that filthy mouth of yours,” he grumbles, making his way to the bathroom.

"I've already showered."

"Don't care." He yanks on your shirt the second you’re placed back on your feet, your protest bouncing against the bathroom tiles before you sigh in defeat. “Do you want to erase the video?” You ask him as he works on your shorts. “I’m sorry I took it without permission. I would be completely okay if you want to erase it.”

“No,” he mumbles, pouting as he turns a shade redder. “Send it to me.”

“my cock’s that good? can’t even answer me, baby?” he says lowly, hand wrapping around your neck loosely, serving as a warning for you turn your attention back to him. he supposes maybe you’d like it if he’d tightened his grip, and he almost wants to, but he wants to hear you answer him more. “c’mon, answer me,” he growls, “can’t get enough of me, can you?”

you shake your head, or maybe you’re just too lost in pleasure that it’s lolling from side to side—he can’t really tell, but your hips greedily push up and meet his thrusts halfway, making him grunt with a hiss.

“no,” you whine, “n-need more,” you sob pathetically, and the prettiest of tears form at your lash line, ready to slip if he so wishes. he thinks this is his favorite part, how every inch of his body has control over every inch of yours. his lips find yours, and almost like he’s silently commanding you as he drinks in your whines, the tears slip past your cheeks, and they make his cock twitch at the sight.

it’s sinful, the way his length almost pulls out fully before he slams back into your cunt, the friction leaving jolts of pleasure run down both of your spines, and toji lets his head fall to your neck, panting erratically against your ear. his voice is deep, husky, and it makes you clench on him tighter.

“f-fuck,” he rasps, a low moan spilling into your ear at the way you squeeze around his cock, his balls heavy and swollen as they ache for the relief from his impending orgasm. “so fuckin’ greedy,” he scoffs.

it doesn’t take long for either of you to finish, his thumb rubs circles onto your clit, and your wandering hand finds its way back to his pec, rubbing over his nipple this time and making a deep, loud groan tumble past his lips. with a few more thrusts, you clench down on him, walls spasming around his throbbing dick as your back arches and your toes curl, helpless cry of his name falling off your tongue.

“toji,” you sob, “fuck, ‘m cumming,” you whine.

“y-yeah, that’s it,” he moans, “cream on my cock, baby.” his own release follows yours, and breathless pants and low grunts ring through your ears as he sloppily thrusts his hips and fucks his load into you. ribbons of cum paint your walls white as he cums in thick, hot ropes, and you cling to his large build, whining at the sensitivity as he continues to fuck you through his high.

his hips slow, and you both pant, catching your breaths as your bodies ride through the aftershocks of your orgasms. your hands are still rubbing over his skin, gliding over his biceps this time, feeling the large muscles bulge under your touch.

“still not enough for you,” he asks amused, and you let out a tired giggle, leaning up and pulling him into a kiss. he indulges you, kissing you deeper when your hands cradle his jaw. and toji likes being rough with you, but he finds he surprisingly likes being soft more.

“nope, never,” you murmur, and he presses his forehead to yours, placing a quick peck to your cheek. but it doesn’t take long for another smirk to find his lips, and his hand cups your tit as he squeezes.

“good,” he says lowly, “because we’re not done yet.”

"You're such a fucking filthy whore aren't you, little one?" his deep voice rumbles, as he grips your jaw in his hand, forcing your mouth to stay open. You squirm in his grasp as he spits into your mouth; the saliva hitting your tongue. "Fuck you" you let out in a chocked cry once you've swallowed, "Right back at ya' " he groans and roughly pulls you up by your hair, smashing his lips onto yours for another burning kiss. Your lips hungrily chased his as Sukuna pulls away and manhandles you onto your knees.

"Let me see these tits" he demands as he tucks up your black tank top from your body. You comply, raising your arms up to allow him to pull it off. A sinister smirk curling at his lips upon seeing you not wearing a bra, his eyes traveling from your collar bone down to your chest, delicate in the semi-darkness. He throws your top on the floor and cups your breasts.

"Fuck," he breathes as his thumbs rub across your nipples. You shiver from the cold air and the heat of his thumbs. "I jerked off thinking about these tits" he lowers himself to lick at a nipple and you’re whining for more. "Thought about pushing them together and fucking them like a pussy." He bites down on your nub, causing you to squeal and jump. He soothes the flesh with a suck from his lips and leisurely circling of his tongue. "Yeah you'd like that, wouldn't you?" he smirks, his ruby eyes boring into yours. "My little slut, hm? wants a killer to fuck her pretty tits." he coos, his words making your cunt ache.

You're trembling under his touch, pussy dripping wet, craving for more attention. Sukuna hums around your nipple before possessively switching to the other. Furrowing his eyebrows in light annoyance when he feels your hips squirm, desperate for friction where you need it most, kissing his teeth when he felt your knees slightly brush against his clothed dick. "Fuck, I hate you. You and your over exaggerated man ego." you hiss, fingers lightly scratching at the nape of his neck. You can feel it when Sukuna smirks against your skin, as he pulls your tits off with a pop, slowly raising his head just enough to whisper against the shell of your ear, "A little bold today, aren't you, brat?" he grins delightfully, his hot breath fans across your neck. "Makes me wonder where that confidence was last night."

Your clit twitched pathetically at his words, brief pictures of your quivering thighs clamped around Sukuna's hips as he nailed you hard and fast against the dirty prison bathroom wall, murmuring heated insults against each other's lips until you'd reached both of your highs.

You wish you could say it had been the first time, but it was far from it. You could've walked away had it not been for the smirk a few months ago. That little rise in the corner of his mouth as his dark eyes met your apathetic ones, picking at the bland food that was served the prisoners. That should've been your first warning. The second warning came right after dinner, when Sukuna traveled along behind you as your unit made their way back to their cells. His piercing gaze locked on how your hips beautifully swayed as you walked. His hand sneakily moving forward, shamelessly capturing your ass in his palm, giving it a firm squeeze. You remember prisoner 073, Sukuna's former cellmate asking you: "First time?" a knowing smirk masking his face. "Good luck falling asleep, that fucker won't keep it down for shit, sweetheart." Before you were given the opportunity to reply you got shoved into your cell, Sukuna joining right after. The sound of a belt unbuckling and a low groan meeting your ears as soon as the door shut closed. You couldn't help the way your pussy ached at the slick sounds coming from below you every night, the thought of him jerking his cock right under your bed making your pussy twitch uncomfortably, your fingers visibly fidgeting inside your panties.

It took only a short amount of time for you to come down towards Sukuna's sleeping figure, your aching cunt silently hovering above his lap, a raucous moan escaping your lips once you were seated on the outline of his fat cock. It's not lost on you when you felt his hand digging into the flesh of your ass, the feeling oh so familiar. His hand pushed your hips further down his clothed shaft, desperately grinding your bodies against one another. "This is a one time thing, got it?" you assert, humming against his swollen red lips, as Sukuna let out a huff, "We'll see 'bout that, brat."

Afterwards you'd move your wet panties back into place, pulling your pants up and crawl up your bed without another word. You tease each other, you fight, you fuck and then go on with your day as if nothing has happened. There was no need to pretend this thing between you is anything other than venting your frustrations.

You let out a gasp when you felt his hand slide down to grip your aching cunt. "Mmm, does my baby want some attention down here?" he murmured, and you shuddered at the feeling of his palm against your core. "P-Please.." you beg, making him raise an eyebrow, a malicious smirk forming on his lips. His dark gaze watched your breath hitch in your throat as he starts to rub his fingers against your inner thighs, drifting impossibly close to your cunt "Do you think you deserve it, doll? After being so mean to me earlier?"

"I'm sorry-" you gasp as you felt his finger hover above your pussy, "I didn't mean-" his finger dips and taps at your clit, feather light. "Want me to make an exception for you, hm?" you nod, letting out a drawn out moan as he harshly thrust two fingers into your swollen cunt, pulling out right after.

You almost let out a scream so loud, you were sure the other prisoners would've heard if it wasn't for Sukuna hastily shoving two fingers with his free hand into your mouth. "Oi, are you stupid? Want us to get caught and get separated, huh?" You shook your head, no. "You sure? Then what's this, sweetheart?" he inserted his thick fingers into you once more, feeling your pussy twitch under his grasp. "Want us to get caught, hm?" Sukuna hums, his long fingers thrusting into you. "Want these other fuckers to see your pathetic face when you choke around my cock, yeah? the way your cute little cunny squeezes a murderer's dick so good and so fucking tight, right? Yeah, you'd like that" a dark chuckle left his lips as he pulls out and delivers a harsh slap to your clit. You let out a muffled yelp, your walls clenching at the idea.

He then pressed your head onto the ground, your cheeks squished beneath the cold floor and his palm, as he positioned your body to lay flat on your stomach. As much as he liked the thought of having you go over the edge around his fingers, he liked having you cream on his dick a lot more.

Sukuna kneeled down, his bulge directly facing your aching cunt. pulling his throbbing cock free from the confines of his jeans. "Gonna ruin this cute little pussy" he grunts, a moan subconsciously spilling from your lips as the head of his cock rubs against your clit. He hisses at the wetness, loving the way it slicks up his dick with ease, his pre-cum sliding all over your pussy. You feel him hover above you, his naked chest pressing down on your back, effectively pinning you against the ground. His hips grind down against your ass, cock sliding between your cheeks smoothly before he pushes his dick into your tight heat in one go. The two of you cried out in unison at the feeling, him stretching you deliciously and the hot tightness of your walls enclosing around him. You were wet enough for him to easily sink in completely.

"Hey, look at that, I'm all in!" He chuckles, pulling back before quickly pushing back in, "It wasn't this easy before, hm?" The sound of his big breeder balls hitting your ass fills the room as you can hear the wetness of your cunt around him. "Fuck," he groans. "You're still so ridiculously tight" Gradually, Sukuna's thrusts slow to a gentle grind. His lips spread into a slow, devilish grin as he peers down at you, and you mewl softly at the hard twitch his cock gives where it’s cradled within your walls. "Gonna never make you want another cock inside you except mine." You knew, he didn't have to tell you. You'll most likely never want another man near you except him.

Despite all the crimes he has committed, you still let him fuck you stupid. His unforgivable actions being a slight reason why you got arrested in the first place. The rest was you to blame. Sukuna is without a doubt a powerful man with connections all around the globe, on a chessboard full of pawns, Ryoumen Sukuna plays the King every time. The police was truly beyond foolish for thinking that they've managed to finally trap him under the palm of their hands. To arrest him with such ease and so little trouble without assuming that he'd have a bunch of spies who work for him and can get him the fuck out. Their uniforms resembling those of the police officers working here. He was well aware of the fact that he could've escaped a long time ago and perhaps he decided against it because of you. The moment your tight walls wrapped around his fat cock and the way you barely even made it fit lit a light inside him that made him consider staying a little longer.

He has tortured people, fucked, raped, impregnated and murdered them. So why were you letting yourself get lost in the pure bliss of his huge cock penetrating you. Why was your cunt throbbing at the thought of him having so much control of everything, including you.

"You're missing a few up there, doll" He hissed, your warm pussy clamping around his pulsing cock. "For letting me fuck you like this" He pulls out until his leaking tip was the only bit remaining inside before he harshly shoved his cock back in, watching the way your ass cheeks jiggle over the impact. "Hey-, d-don't do this" you gasp, feeling your release building, already so close from his incessant edging. "Oh? You want me to do it again? With pleasure, princess" "Wa-Wait, wait-" He pinned his hands above your own, pounding into you as a croaked whimper spilled from your lips, heaving Sukuna's name, your harsh gasps signaling your upcoming climax.

His free hand slips down in between your lower stomach and the ground, lifting your lower body up a bit, the change in angle has him fucking against your g-spot even harsher. With his hand firmly pressed against the bulge of your tummy, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out with ease becomes hard to miss. He's losing control, fucking into you at a pace you’re sure isn’t human.

"Wanna stuff you full of my cum" He wants you and only you. "Gonna breed this cute, tiny pussy. Hm? How does that sound, having you all nice and round for me." The idea is as orgasmic as his cock itself. The tightness in your core builds and builds, leaning on the edge of euphoria. "We'll leave this place, with my baby inside you." It feels intoxicating almost, feeling him thrust inside you and murmur such filth to you. You felt like you couldn't move, nor form a proper sentence, even if you tried. "Y-Yes, want you to put a baby in me," you moaned, his cock having your brain short-circuited in the best way possible. "Let it all out inside me" Sukuna smirks against your skin, lavishing the nape of your neck and your shoulders with kisses and little bites. "Sure thing" He continued his brutal pace, pounding into you even faster and harder. It felt like you were losing your mind, losing yourself on his cock. You were soaking his member, gushing and dripping down your thighs. The ring of cum that was forming around his dick becoming more and more visible with each thrust.

"Cum for me, doll. Make me a baby daddy" His possessive tone is the last thing you hear before the waves of orgasm pound over you. Your cunt clenches and flutters hard around his dick, as he’s moaning your name. You feel how tight you are, his cock stilling inside you as he reaches his own high, hot ropes of cum coating your walls.

"Fuck" Sukuna sighs, shallowly thrusting into your cunt, slowly riding out both of your highs, his softening cock remaining inside you.

"Are you two love-birds done?" Both of your heads snapped up upon recognizing the guard's voice behind the closed cell door. "Or are you still going at it like fucking rabbits in heat" The guard chuckled devilishly, to which you felt Sukuna's figure stiffen slightly, before sliding out of you with one hand on your asscheek to keep you spread open, murmuring quiet praise as your entrance clenches pathetically around nothing.

"Piss off, Toji" Sukuna slurs, as he sat up and tucked his dick back inside his pants, running his fingers through his hair. Confused, you propped your arms on your elbow, slightly turning towards a pissed looking Sukuna. "Yeah, that ain't gonna happen, bud" Your ears picked up a sound of a key jingling. "Have you already forgotten? You still owe me one, big time." Toji continued, "Haven't even heard a 'thanks' for preventing the judges to give you an additional 10 year special sentence back in court" Sukuna sighed and closed his eyes shut, his hand sliding down his face, rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "Not that it mattered, anyway" he muttered to himself, his hand slumping down into the pockets of his jeans, facing the metal door. "Yes I know, I'll transfer the cash to you in a bit. It'll need no longer than three days, so calm your fucking balls" Sukuna waved him off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he took in how the lock on the door rotated, the sound of a heavy door opening following, revealing a smirking Toji.

"Though luck buddy, cause I ain't waiting that long," he gazed down at your naked figure, licking the scar on his lips when he witnessed how your body shivered, your nipples perking up as soon as the cold wind hit your skin. "I want it now" He demanded, closing the door behind him. Sukuna darkens, looming over him. "Cut the bullshit. You don't get to decide that. Remember who you're working for." Toji let a dark chuckle escape his lips. "I don't think you understand. I don't want money," your half-lidded eyes met his "I want her." Sukuna was quick to protest, but Toji interrupted to briefly explain. "Not forever, jeez. Just for the time being. Was kinda hoping she'll fuck some stress off of me" His hands came up, fidgeting on his belt. "Just one fuck" Sukuna stated, making your eyes widen as you sat up. "Just one fuck" Toji repeated assurely, kneeling on his knees, Sukuna following suit. Two dark eyes peering down at you like a hunter watching it's prey.

"Fuck, you have some nice tits" Toji groaned, as his rough hand cupped your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh in his palms, making you whine. His hand glided down your tummy and even further to your pussy that was drenched full of Sukuna's cum. You inhale deeply when you felt his thumb harshly rub against your clit, pushing some leaking cum back into your throbbing hole.

You then felt both of Sukuna's hands cup your tits, as he pushed your back onto his chest, giving Toji an even better view of your aching cunt. "What a cute little pussy" He uttered softly, your head falling back onto Sukuna's chest as you felt Toji's breath fan over your heat before his tongue was suddenly wiping up the length of your slit, collecting all your juices in his mouth. "Tastes sweet too" he then suddenly spits, observing as his saliva slides down your clit, your pussy clenching around nothing. "Seeing something like this really gets your boner raging, ya' know" Toji sat back up unbuckling his belt and lowered his boxers just enough for his ridiculously thick cock to spring free, one of his hands coming down to stroke his dick.

You clutched at Sukuna's hand that was busy messaging your tits, needing something to hold onto. Toji dived back into your cunt, his eyes were closed, moaning into your heat as he ate you out like you were his first meal in days. "Officer Fushiguro, c-can I.. can I suck you off?" You asked suddenly, causing him to halt in his movements gazing up at you through messy bangs and dark eyes.

"No" He growled, going back on sucking your clit. "Why?" You panted, arching your hips more into his invading tongue as he began to lap at your hole. "Cause we ain't got enough time, baby. Gotta fuck you before my shift ends" He pulled away with a groan, hand moving up from your thighs to your chin to force you to lower your head so he can finally kiss you on the lips. You feel Sukuna shift behind you as he slightly moved your hips to lift you higher on his lap, his back laying flat on the floor, taking you with him. His sudden movements causing to break the heated kiss between you and Toji.

"Go ahead, wanna see you make her belly bulge" Sukuna challenged, pulling your knees further up your chest. His other hand coming down to free his growing bulge once more.

Without another word, Toji crawled towards you, knees supporting his weight as he straightened up his back, the added height making him look even more intimidating. His pink cock briefly bumped against your thigh, smearing his pre-cum all over as he made a move to slide his dick up over your pussy, scooping what cum has leaked out of you up and pushes it back inside you. Feeling his fat tip curtly push inside your hole, pulling out in a matter of seconds, the gesture having you whining for more.

You then feel Sukuna's hardness lining up behind you, rubbing at your sodden folds to cover his length in your slick juices. "W-Wait, I can't- two won't fi-" "Yes you can" Sukuna cut you off. "We'll make it fit" Was the last thing you heard spilling from Toji's lips as he slides his cock into your spread heat, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion. Toji groans out loud— stunned by the heat and wetness of your pussy and how tight it grips him.

Sukuna followed right after, pushing upward into the warmth and drippy mess of your cunt, fitting in besides Toji's so well. "Damn, its pretty snug in there" He continues to press forward, as deep inside you as he can go, dropping his head down to your chest.

Sukuna gasps as he gives himself and you a moment. His hands grip at your waist, one hand coming to rub the tender skin of your supple ass. "Fuck, you take us so well, princess" Sukuna mumbles against your ear, setting a pace, your ass meeting his hips and claps with each thrust. "You're so big" You whine, their cocks so big that even just one of them inside you is almost too much. They both rock into you, neither one moving too hard or too fast, slow and so good, like a slow roll of pleasure that keeps coming, mounting higher and higher with each pass of Toji's cock over your g-spot and each stroke of Sukuna deep inside you.

Under normal circumstances, you would have been embarrassed about how wound up you were, but with them, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel that way. Toji's hands pressed your legs even further into your chest, sandwiching you in between the two men, hammering their cocks deeper into your swelling cunt, the change in angle abusing your g-spot even more, as a feeling all so familiar began to coil in the pit of your stomach.

Both Sukuna and Toji jolt inside you, fucking you just a bit faster, as if they sensed your upcoming climax. The more they pressed your body together, you could feel them sinking in deeper and deeper. Your eyes roll back at the way Sukuna's cock pounds inside you, pressing so deep and upward with Toji relentlessly pumping into you, gripping your hips tight as he fucks you deep and senseless.

"God, you're so cute" Toji pants against your tits and you scowl at the term 'cute'. "S-Shut up, you cranky-old asshole" you spit, glaring at him through your lashes as Toji chuckles, slightly lifting his head, his dark eyes looming over yours. "You and that man under you..." He moves forward, grinding into you. "We're the same age, angel" You hiss when he delivers an extremely hard thrust into your pussy, forcing the tip of his cock to kiss your cervix deliciously. Sukuna laughs from below you, both men mocking the brat that has just revealed itself, instead of getting mad at it.

You're almost weeping at how well they work your body. Your tits rub raw against Toji's clothed chest and he realizes that it's already past his shift, the risk of his colleague walking in to the sound of skin clapping and grunting increasing with each animalistic thrust. You’re trying hard not to spill fat tears of pleasure as the men continued their assault on your pussy.

Toji's hand sweeps down your belly, feeling the tip of his cock plunging in and out as tries hard not to think of what your babies might look like. The thought of breeding such a cute pussy like yours implanted deep inside the depths of his dark fantasy.

"Fuck, don't you dare cum inside her." Sukuna warned, as if he just read his mind, scowling at the grin that curled on Toji's lips, feeling the way Sukuna's cock twitches under the heat of his palm and you whimper seeing the soft rise of his cock against your belly "What a shame" Toji's pace fastened, nearing his release. "Would've loved a second mini me running out" his second? "You'd like that though, huh? being bred." Your walls tighten hearing the filthy words spilling from his lips.

"G-Gonna cum" You cry, as your eyes squeezed shut. "Yeah? Fuck, you’re gonna cum for me?" Sukuna growled, his dick ramming balls deep into your cunt. Toji continued fucking you in a rapid pace. "Toji.." Sukuna hissed, glaring at Toji who still hasn't made a move to pull out. His warning falls deaf on your ears as you’re cumming and pulsating around their thickness instantly. Everything went white, you were unable to feel anything except the overwhelming pleasure that took over your system.

Sukuna groaned, shooting his hot cum inside your abused walls for the second time this night. "Good fucking girl," Toji praises. "Your cunt is so good to me" The nickname has you your walls clenching even tighter around his cock. At this rate, he's gonna end up creamping you. He instantly began groaning as he pulls his cock free from the vice-grip of your cunt and jerks himself twice to completion, allowing his hot seed to splatter against the tender flesh of your tits where he’s left a clear hickey.

When you finally returned to earth, Sukuna was carefully pulling out of your still-spasming hole. His hot cum leaked out, being pushed onto your ass and down the floor by your clenching. Toji was a sweating, panting mess, you noticed as he got up from the ground, quickly stuffing his dripping cock back inside and zipping his pants up, right before you heard a muffled beep, followed by a metal door opening at the end of the hall. "Well, this is my cue to leave" Toji chuckled, bending down to press a quick peck on your lips. "We'll continue this someday" He winked at you and waved at Sukuna, who just mouthed an unbothered "Fuck off" as he sat up, pulling you with him.

You were still hazy, the orgasm nearly causing you to black out at its force as you watched Toji carefully walking out locking the door, leaving you and Sukuna alone in your cell again. Eavesdropping to the conversation Toji and the other man were having.

"Is everything alright? They didn't cause any trouble, did they?" The man asked, upon seeing Toji fidgeting with the keys in the lock. "Nah, thought I heard something, so I came for a quick check up" Toji lied, putting the keys back in his pockets. "And?"

"They were sleeping" He continued strolling down the corridor, his colleague catching a brief glance to your cell before hastily walking up towards Toji. "Ah, by the way, this might be random, but can you please convey my thanks to your wife for the pie she brought here last time? I might add, it was a very delicate one, too" He said, smiling politely when Toji dismissed him by waving his hand "Sure thing."

Beside you, Sukuna was chuckling silently, taking in your shocked expression. "You heard that, doll? A wife. You just fucked a married man" You turned towards him with a sigh. "And you let me."

Sukuna grinned in response, wrapping his arms around your figure. "Hell yeah I did."

© kyscaqe ⎯ all rights reserved

When you step into the building, you feel like you’ve been warped out of Japan. Signs and posters on the wall sport pictures of motorcycles, slogans and mottos written in English instead of Japanese. There are several pool tables, along with pinball machines and dart boards on the far right wall. The man throws his keys down on the bar to his left and gestures to you to follow him to a back room. You follow obediently, excusing yourself when you step inside, standing awkwardly in the doorway as the man fishes around in a locker in the middle of the room.

“Here.” A towel and a black t-shirt are suddenly thrown your way, and you fumble to catch both of them before holding them to your chest. “You shouldn’t wear a white t-shirt when it’s raining.”

You squeak loudly, cheeks flushing hot, and the man laughs as he turns away from you. “Hurry up and change then.”

“Um, thank you,” you say as you hurry to strip off your wet t-shirt, dry yourself, and slip his on instead. It’s much too big and not your style at all (do girls your age even wear shirts with motorcycles and Harley Davidson logos on them?) but you’re thankful to be dry and warm nonetheless. “I haven’t gotten your name.”

“Ukai. Ukai Keishin. You?”

It’s kind of funny, telling your name to the back of a handsome stranger who saved you, but you do anyway before saying, “You can turn around now.”

Ukai isn’t subtle as he turns back and scans his eyes up and down your body before shrugging. “Looks better on you than Takinoue.”

“Wait, this isn’t your shirt?”

“No, it’s mine, but that asshole steals my clothes all the time.” Ukai digs around in the locker for a black shirt, and you barely have time to turn away before he’s stripping, throwing his jacket and shirt haphazardly into the locker. “I’ll call him to come give you a ride home.”

“Oh, um, you… you don’t have to, I’m sure I can—”

“A cute girl like you, wearing a pleated skirt in the middle of the night, lost and in the rain? You’re asking for trouble, girlie. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a naive university student.”

“Excuse me! I’ll have you know—” You whip around to give him a piece of your mind before you come face-to-face with his abs as he tugs the shirt down. You pretend you weren’t ogling his firm body and were reading the “Moe’s Bar” logo on his shirt instead, cheeks flushing hot. Underneath the short sleeves you see tattoos covering every inch of his arms, swirls of designs of black lines and a myriad of colors, wrapping around his biceps and disappearing under the material.

“What?”

“I’m not a university student. I just moved here for work and got lost walking around.”

“Doesn’t change my point about your skirt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with pleated skirts,” you counter with a frown. “And who’s Moe? I thought your name was Ukai.”

“The American guy I bought this place from really liked The Simpsons,” Ukai shrugs and sets his hands on his hips. “Any other questions or demands, girlie? I got a bar to open and a co-worker to call.”

“No… no. But thank you.” You bow your head to him before you remember your half-dead phone sitting uselessly in your bra. “Wait, maybe a phone charger?”

“So is it no or yes on the demand?” He grins before gesturing out the door. “Get out, I’ll get you your charger.”

Ukai doesn’t just get you a charger—he also makes you an old-fashioned, and you sit at the bar, sipping on the drink as you watch him set up for the night. He flips over the chairs, makes sure chalk is on the pool tables, and wipes down the tables and stools before wandering back over. He checks his phone before digging into his pants’ pocket and lighting a cigarette.

“Takinoue’s in the doghouse so it’s gonna take a little bit. You can stay here ‘til then.”

“What did he do?”

“What didn’t he do?” Ukai laughs as he starts cleaning a few glasses and setting them on the bartop. “Half the time, I’m surprised his old woman’s still with him.”

“What about you?” You ask innocently, trying not to sound as eager as you feel inside. “Do you have an old woman?”

“Full of questions, aren’t ya, girlie?” Ukai grins as he takes a puff of his cigarette before exhaling away from you. “Nah, I’m as free as a bird.”

The information sits warm in your stomach, and you take a sip of your drink to pretend it’s heat from the alcohol instead.

“Is that a Lynyrd Skynyrd joke?” You ask from behind your glass. “You know, my dad—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Ukai groans and rubs his temples. “Please.”

You hide your amused smile behind a hand. “So this bar is yours now?”

“Yep, and it’s also about to open,” Ukai cuts you off as he finishes his cigarette and stamps it out in the ashtray. He doesn’t look annoyed with your constant questions; instead there’s an amused tilt to his lips like you’re entertaining him as he gets ready for business. “So make yourself useful and flip the sign, would you?”

You mumble an affirmative before doing as you’re ordered. It doesn’t even take five minutes before the first patron walks through the door. The second and third are next ten minutes after, and soon, the entire bar is packed with men with tattoos and denim vests and women with ripped jeans and boots. Now you understand clearly what Ukai meant about your pleated skirt. You stick out like a sore thumb between this type of clientele, but at least the people at the bar who make conversation with you are nice enough.

Ukai laughs, drinks, and smokes with his regulars, making it impossible to continue conversation with him. Eventually a younger kid takes his place, and Ukai gives you a nod before he ventures out to greet those around the pool tables and dart boards. It’s like a reunion: there’s loud cheers before arms get thrown over shoulders, and you don’t think you’ll ever forget Ukai’s name with how many people say, “Keishin, you sly dog, I’ll kick your ass at pool next time!”

It’s about thirty minutes later when you get bored enough to start walking around. You linger around the pool tables, too nervous to strike up conversation with the people who eye you as you do. You move over to the pinball machines, playing a quick game before taking a seat in front of the dart boards. There’s a couple playing—well, it’s more flirting than playing, really—but you watch as the man beats the girl anyway and she pouts as she walks off.

“You wanna play?”

Ukai’s voice startles you, nearly knocking you out of the chair. When had he slid up behind you? He gestures to a dart board with his head, a smoking cigarette in one hand and a sweating bottle of beer in the other. “Darts. You wanna play?”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll lose?” He grins as he takes a swig of his beer. “I’m undefeated against pretty girls.”

“Oh?” Your cheeks warm and you have to clear your throat to ward it off. That’s the second time he’s complimented you, and you’re pretty sure he’s just trying to fluster you. “I’d be careful, if I were you. I’m pretty good, especially against handsome men.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Ukai laughs. “Maybe if you come back.”

“I mean, I have to return your shirt,” you mumble, trying not to sound too eager at the thought of seeing him again. “So…”

“Nah, you keep it. Looks better on you.”

Does this mean he doesn’t want to see you again? The mixed signals he’s sending make your head spin, and you take a breath before your anxiety tries to decipher every little clue he’s sending.

“I couldn’t!”

“Not your style?” His little ribbing makes you flush harder, but then his phone vibrates in his pocket and quiets him. Ukai sets his cigarette in his mouth as he checks the message, then puts it back before taking a puff and exhaling. “Takinoue’s here. He’ll take you back.”

“Oh. Oh, um, okay.”

You push off of the stool and gather your things from the back room before you emerge to see Ukai talking with another tall blond man. A strange sense of longing hits you then. You don’t exactly want to leave. Ukai’s been welcoming and nice, more than you can say for your landlady or your apartment neighbors. Though the pool hall smells like beer and stale cigarettes, it’s the happiest and most included you’ve felt in a while, even when you arrived in town a few days ago. You can see why the place is packed on a Saturday, and it wouldn’t surprise you to see it packed every weekend.

“Girlie, come here.” Ukai calls you over with a wave, and introduces Takinoue to you as soon as you wander over. He claps his friend’s shoulder once the introductions are done and warns jokingly, “Don’t scare her too much, yeah? Your wife would kill me.”

“Not if she kills me first,” Takinoue answers jovially, but by the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, you suspect he’s still in the doghouse.

“See you around,” Ukai greets with a two-fingered salute. Then your blond-haired savior is gone, lost in a sea of smoke, motorcycle jackets, and animated voices.

It takes you nearly a week before you gather the courage to visit Moe’s Bar again. You washed his shirt and your wet shirt as soon as you got home, and left it drying on a hanging rack for the last few days. Your eyes wandered over to it way too many times to be a coincidence, especially with the way you looked up the pool hall on social media during your down time. It has a surprising presence and following, especially for the smaller town you moved to, and you find yourself staring at a picture of Ukai from the side more times than you would like to admit.

“Do you know Moe’s Bar?” you ask your co-worker Risako over lunch on Friday.

To your surprise, she scoffs.

“That American biker bar on the edge of town? It’s an eyesore. The city’s been trying to push them out.”

“Wait, really?” You blink in surprise. It was definitely not an eyesore when you visited it and everyone had been friendly. “Why?”

“The rumor is that it’s a front for the yakuza.”

“And you believe that?”

Risako’s voice drops to a whisper. “Have you seen the tattoos and motorcycles they have? It wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

I have! You want to yell, One of those guys helped me! But you keep quiet, mulling over how to answer professionally. If this were a friend, you’d be telling her to knock it off with her stereotypes, but as she’s technically your trainer, you can’t just tell her off in the middle of the lunch room.

After a while, you settle on, “Maybe we should go together to check it out? I’m sure it’s not that bad!”

“Pass,” your co-worker shrugs as she sets down her spoon. “Besides, tonight is the mixer! You’re single, right? Are you coming?”

You’d rather be caught dead than at one of those stuffy mixers, awkwardly holding your drink as boys fight to get in your pants. You make up some excuse to get out of it, and luckily she doesn’t press, but she does make you promise to come “next time.” As soon as work is over, you’re changing into something more fit for a pool hall, grabbing Ukai’s shirt, and hailing a taxi over to Moe’s Bar.

The place is already packed by the time you walk in, and you clutch your fingers tighter to the shirt as you look around. You don’t see Ukai yet, but you do see Takinoue (who must be out of the doghouse) playing pinball with a woman with long black hair. There’s people at every seat at the bar, so you wait your turn to order a drink before wandering around the room. The blond owner is nowhere to be seen, so you take a spot at an empty table near the dart boards, eyeing the empty game.

“Hey,” Takinoue greets as he slides up, setting an elbow on the table. “Nice to see you.”

“You too. I came to return Ukai’s shirt.” You point to the garment neatly folded on the other side of the table. “But I can’t find him.”

“He ran out to get some more ice for the bar. Do you want to play while you wait?”

Takinoue gestures toward the dart board, and you figure, why not? It’ll kill time while you wait for Ukai to show back up and give you a chance to polish off your skills. It’s been a while, but you beat Takinoue readily, which makes his partner laugh and the man sputter for a rematch. You win that one too, and that only brings another man over who challenges your win streak. He even bets money on the match—something you gladly take out of his hands when you beat him, too. You’re halfway through facing a third man with black hair and glasses (and about to win), when the squeak of a chair behind you catches your attention.

Ukai Keishin sits in the stool you once sat at, eyeing you with amusement. A cigarette hangs from his lips and his long, blond hair is pushed back with a black hair band. It sends your heart into a frenzy, and you have to clear your throat to make the dryness subside.

“What?”

“I heard someone was besting my friends at darts, and here you are.”

“I told you I’m good,” you tease. You take a second to throw your three darts, and the man next to you makes a sound of annoyance when you hit a bullseye. You turn back to Ukai with an innocent smile, “You didn’t believe me?”

“I didn’t think you’d come back.”

You want to ask him, “Why wouldn’t I?”, but then you remember what Risako said earlier: that the bar doesn’t have the best reputation and the town is trying to run them out. You puff out your cheeks instead, gesturing with one of the darts to his shirt on the table.

“I said I’d bring it back, and I don’t go back on my word, mister.”

“Clearly,” he laughs before smacking the table and standing up. “Beat Shimada already so you can face me next.”

“Kei!” The man protests, but it’s no use. Next turn, you hand him his loss and he hands you the bills he bet on the game.

You turn to Ukai with a playful grin and wave the blue bills in his face. “Are you going to bet, too?”

“Don’t want your money, girlie.”

“Then what would you like?”

His eyes run up and down your body quickly before he stamps his cigarette butt out, running his hand over his clean-shaven jaw. You can see him trying to hide a smile as he turns back to you.

“For you to wear something more fitting for my establishment.” You look down at your plain t-shirt and jeans, wondering what was wrong with your outfit, when he answers for you. “Maybe a shirt with a Harley Davidson logo on it?”

You know you should probably be creeped out by this. A near stranger openly ogling you, insisting you wear his shirt, inviting you back to his bar again. But with Ukai Keishin, you can tell it’s nothing like that—there’s a warmth in his words and on his face that is inviting and settles over you like a thick blanket.

“If you win,” you quip back. “But if I win, you have to take me for a ride on your motorcycle.”

Ukai hums as if he’s thinking about it before he holds his hand out, shaking on your shared deal. The game is a close one; Ukai wasn’t kidding when he said he was “undefeated against pretty girls”, giving you a run for your money. Takinoue, Shimada, and a few others hang around, watching you trade dart after dart, the scores close. But eventually, with one last dart to the outside ring of the bullseye, you clench the victory.

You can’t suppress the grin that rises to your face when you turn back toward Ukai. “I’m free next Saturday.”

The man chuckles, taking a swig of his drink before throwing up his hands in defeat. “I guess I will be, too.”

The wind is colder than you expected it to be, but Ukai’s leather jacket is warm and loose around your arms. You cling to him as he speeds down the highway, weaving in and out of lanes with a controlled freedom you’ve come to expect from the man. Eventually he turns off at an exit, going slower on the rural roads so you can take in your surroundings. It’s a blur of green rice paddies and colorful flowers until he eventually pulls into a small park and turns off the motorcycle.

He has to help you off, your legs unused to clinging to the side of a motorcycle, and he’s smirking when you take your helmet off.

“What?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious as he studies you. You wore his shirt today, knotted near the top of your frayed skinny jeans (that you’d bought on a whim earlier that week), Ukai’s jacket hanging off your shoulders as you fix the collar.

“Was it what you expected?” He grabs your helmet and swings them both over the handlebars before gesturing you to follow him.

“I mean, my legs hurt,” you lament as he takes you toward a bench by the edge of a small man-made lake. “And it was a little cold.”

“I can’t believe you showed up without a jacket,” Ukai laughs, and you nudge him with a playful frown.

“Don’t laugh at me, it was my first time.” Then you sigh, looking out to the calm water. “But it was really nice. Freeing. Wind whipping all around you, no cares in the world, that kind of thing.”

“Wow.” Ukai nods a few times before swinging an arm over the back of the bench. “Maybe I should get the mayor on the bike with me then.”

You purse your lips, unsure of what to say. You don’t want to pry and you can’t exactly bring up your co-worker’s rumor about the yakuza without saying you've been asking about the bar. The light breeze whips around you, rippling the water as you think of a conversation starter.

Eventually you settle on, “What made you want to buy Moe’s Bar?”

Ukai takes a breath before he tells you all about his life—barely finishing high school, working manual labor jobs in town, a little jack-of-all-trades. He found the pool hall in his late twenties and became a regular patron, helping out the Japanese-American man who ran the place. When he decided to move back to America to be with his family, he sold the bar to Ukai, and he’s run it for nearly a decade.

“Wait, you—you’re 36?!” You gape. He doesn’t look at a day over thirty, even with his chain smoking and drinking. “You’re kidding.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“No! I just thought you were my age. You know, mid-20s.”

“Been there, done that,” Ukai jokes as he swats the air. “What about you, girlie? Why’d you move here of all places?”

You tell him about how your job let you go and you found something in the countryside instead, willing to give it a shot. Tokyo had become too much for you: a bit too crowded, too expensive, too depressing thanks to your lack of friends or love life. You figured Miyagi might be a fresh start but so far, it’s been exactly the same.

“You know, maybe it wasn’t the best plan to come to a small town to try and find more friends.”

“I know,” you mutter, kicking at the grass beneath your feet, but thinking on Moe’s Bar and the man next to you, you’re quick to add: “I think I’m doing okay so far.”

“Yeah.” There’s a strange flint in Ukai’s eye, there and gone in a flash, making you think you imagined it. “Yeah, I think so, too.” Before you can ask him what he means, he slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright, let’s head back before you make off with another piece of my clothing.”

“Hey!” You call after him, his loud laugh warming your body, making it impossible to stay mad at him.

The ride back feels so much shorter, and it isn’t long before you’re back at your apartment complex and handing over your helmet. You start to shrug out of Ukai’s jacket, but don't hand it to him just yet. He blinks at you, leaning back in his seat, fingers tapping his helmet that sits in his lap. The setting sun reflects off the lens of the helmet and makes Ukai look even more handsome than usual.

“What’s up?”

“It’s almost dark out. If you want, I could make you dinner…?”

Ukai’s voice is awkwardly even as he questions, “Come up to your apartment?”

“Yes.”

He breathes out of his nose, hooking his helmet on the handle bar before fishing in his jacket. There’s a cigarette on his lips and a lighter in his hand in a flash, and his voice is calculated when he responds, “No thanks.”

Your heart sinks slightly, fingers clutching tighter to the leather jacket in your hands as you ask, “Why not?”

“Listen girlie, if I come up there, it’s not just going to be for dinner.”

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

Your blunt answer must surprise him because his eyes are immediately on you, the hand holding the lighter dropping to his side. It’s embarrassing, being so open about what you’re asking for. You’re both single, attractive, and obviously get along well enough that you want to see each other again, so why not? Dinner is always in the cards, but you also want everything that happens after—the moans, the scratches, the squeaks. All of it.

“You’re sure?”

Your response is more confident than you actually feel. “Yes.”

“Well, shit.”

He’s like lightning with how fast he drops the cigarette and lighter, swinging his leg off the bike. His fingers are cold from his leather gloves, but his lips are warm as they crash to yours. You drop his jacket at your feet so you can clutch your fingers in his shirt, pulling him close as his lips move against yours.

Ukai Keishin tastes like tobacco, something you always said you hated, but with him you find it intoxicating. One of his hands moves to your ass and cups, squeezing the flesh as he pulls you flush against him. His tongue is quick, circling against yours and pushing back when you try to overpower him. His hand on your neck tightens when you make a low sound, and he’s breathing heavily when he pulls away.

“Upstairs, now.”

The command sends a shiver down your spine, but you don’t listen to him. You lean up to kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down. His chuckle vibrates against your skin and makes you smile as your tongues meet again, this time even faster, dirtier. Ukai’s hands grope at everything they can, ghosting over your ass, your thighs, your sides; you return the favor and pull his crotch against yours with a harsh tug to his belt loops.

You only remember that you’re standing in the middle of your complex’s parking lot when a car drives over some gravel. It makes you squeak and pull back, cheeks warm and growing even hotter at the hooded look on Ukai’s face.

“Upstairs,” you repeat, throat thick with desire.

You don’t remember picking up his jacket and fumbling to get to the elevator, feet carrying you too quickly to care about anything else, but you do remember Ukai on you the second you step inside. The doors are barely shut when he presses you against the back wall, the mirror shaking with how much force he uses. Your moan is swallowed by his lips and tongue, his hands openly groping all over your ass and tits, thigh pressed between your legs. You grind against him, tugging on his shirt to pull him against you.

The elevator dings and you pull him to your apartment, hurrying to unlock the door and step inside. You don’t even bother making it to the bedroom—your clothes are flung off in messy piles as he fishes in his jeans’ pocket for his wallet before kicking them aside. As soon as he finds the condom, the wallet is thrown to the side and you’re bent over the edge of the couch.

“Sorry, girlie,” he chuckles airily as he slides the condom on, and you crane your head back to see him spit in his hand before using it to lube up his hard cock. “Need to be in that pussy.”

“We can take it slow next time,” you groan, shaking your hips as a sign for him to get inside you already. “Just—”

“Next time, huh?”

The force he slams into you makes you lose your breath. It burns slightly from the lack of prep, but the way he stretches your walls as he shallowly thrusts in and out until he bottoms out makes you groan. He barely gives you time to adjust before he sets a quick pace, fingers tightening on your hips as he forces you to meet him. Your fingers dig into the fabric of your couch as he fucks you into it, your moans and whimpers echoing in your ears.

“God, fuck,” he whispers, and you cry out when he sends a hand to your ass, the sharp sound ringing in your apartment. The couch creaks when you match his pace, grinding against his harsh ruts to get him even deeper.

“Again,” you beg, one hand reaching back for him. You wrap a hand around his thigh, nails digging into his skin when he slaps the other cheek, just as hard and relentless. He alternates between cheeks as he slaps your ass again and again, until your flesh is hot and stinging oh so good.

Ukai shifts, angling you to hit just right, and you whine the second his fingers find your clit. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, fluttering as he rubs quick and harsh circles that send a hot streak up your spine. The slapping of his skin against yours and the soft groans that tumble from his mouth bring your orgasm quickly, and you’re barely able to warn him before you’re tumbling over the edge, fingernails digging so hard into his flesh that you hear him hiss. The intensity makes you light-headed, sweat dripping down your nose and chin as Ukai fucks you without abandon to reach his own peak.

You’re able to peek back at him just in time to see his face scrunch up, eyes tightly closed as he cums. God, he’s beautiful—thick lips parted, hoarse and deep voice groaning, hips tightly against yours, blond hair messy from the force of his thrusts. It’s a sight you want to see all the time.

He takes a second to catch his breath before his eyes pop open, and you whine lightly when he pulls himself from you.

“What, you want another round or something?” He chuckles as he ties the condom off and throws it in the small trash can in your kitchen.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no,” you counter as you right yourself. You stretch your back out before turning to him with a playful grin. “Unless you actually wanted dinner.”

“A guy needs energy, don’t you think?”

“Oh, and a girl doesn’t?” You joke as you pad toward the kitchen.

You don’t make it more than two steps past him before he grabs your waist, tugging you into his embrace. His body is hot and sweaty, breath even hotter against your ear as he murmurs, “No, you’re going to need all the energy you can get, girlie.”

With the way you can feel his cock twitching on the back of your thigh, you know he’ll keep his promise.

tagging: @hanayanetwork, @anime-central, @hqintheclub, @amarinthe, @erinoikawa, @betheydochaos, @lovelyunholyc, @miyarinrin, @tehehebri, @meanshiggy, @antique-remains, @bakarinnie, @eros-miya, @etoilezone, @chims-kookies, @jojowantstocry, @kellyyween, @sunaspillowprincess, @kittycatkrissa, @darth-papi, @scentedflower, @sleepy-demon-baby, @crystal-lilac, @inarizaki-manager, @TheHaplessFrog, @pazumane, @rosesandtoshi, @luna-vitae-suae, @ebiharachan, @crapimahuman, @savantsoulfinder, @Animehero666, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @callmeraids, @kemakoshume, @lazarusstorm, @bananabossbitch, @devilgirlcrybabiey, @abcdemporio, @antique-remains, @hannas16, @rory-cakes, @chloee0x0, @dreeming-dree, @tomankitten, @osanoya, @tirzamisu, @icelyn20, @japanesevenom, @dakumarauder, @bakugobaki

ACT III

SCENE I. Outside the manor.

Enter YOU and DUKE RINTAROU going out of a carriage with the butler and some servants welcoming you at the main entrance. You marvel at the sight of the manor, realizing that it was twice the size of your noble family’s humble estate, as grand as one of the four buildings in the imperial palace.

DUKE RINTAROU

(guiding you out of the carriage) Is the residence to your liking?

YOU

Verily. To live in the convenience of this house is an honor, Duke.

BUTLER

(bowing) Your Grace, you have arrived.

DUKE RINTAROU

The duchess and the lady, where are the women of this household? Better yet, what more strife has this estate seen in my absence?

BUTLER

None of which, fortunately. At peace are your two wives. Lady Ci’an stays at the comfort of her chambers; ‘give leave awhile’—she order’d. Duchess Hera, however, is sauntering to the stone path of the estate’s garden at this noontide.

(takes notice of you beside the duke) And the new lady…?

DUKE RINTAROU

She, who is my third wife; treat her no less than you do me. Escort her to the room I assigned and provide accommodation as you would a madam. She need not meet Hera nor Ci’an at this hour.

SERVANTS

(all curtsying) Yes, Your Grace.

YOU

Duke, whither will you go? (turns to the duke in hesitance, then retreats) But it is nothing of my concern. Carry on, I apologize.

DUKE RINTAROU

(smiling softly) My lady, there are matters I have to tend to. Join us for supper?

YOU

I rather not cause discomfort to your wives.

DUKE RINTAROU

Are you not a wife?

YOU

I-I am, Your Grace. What I mean is—

DUKE RINTAROU

Then, you will dine with us.

(to a servant) You there, take my wife to her chambers and prepare her a warm bath.

Exit YOU and a maid

BUTLER

Does the fair lady carry Your Grace’s child?

DUKE RINTAROU

A child? No.

BUTLER

In that case, for what purpose does a third wife serve? Is it of love? How stands your disposition in this sudden marriage?

DUKE RINTAROU

The lady needs protection. I do it at the request of the empress.

BUTLER

So it is indeed Her Majesty’s will. Ay me! To be marr’d out of your favor; to be a noble husband to a wife who is anything but. Yet so readily did you wed her. I pray you receive the very love you yearn for in the fullness of time.

DUKE RINTAROU

In time.

The duke continues to walk inside the manor and sees his first wife descending the grand staircase; staring at him was a woman with wavy, scarlet hair and shiny emerald eyes.

Enter DUCHESS HERA and her maids

DUKE RINTAROU

My wife. Were you not in the garden?

DUCHESS HERA

I come here wondering why the air reeks of something awful. It must be that shameless mistress you brought into this estate.

DUKE RINTAROU

Hold that tongue. She carries my name.

DUCHESS HERA

And so do I. Are you her lover?

DUKE RINTAROU

You speak of nonsense.

DUCHESS HERA

Is she fair in your eyes? Speak briefly.

DUKE RINTAROU

And what about it? You berate every single woman that does so much as look at me. What madman you will turn me into if you keep this act. I’ve no time for this discourse.

Exit DUKE RINTAROU

DUCHESS HERA

(grits her teeth while turning to the butler) That new lady, call her forth to me.

BUTLER

Duchess, I’m afraid His Grace has order’d to leave the gentle madam be.

DUCHESS HERA

Fie! Leave her be? What is she, a saintess of my idolatry? Move, all of you! Clear the way for in this noontime shall my choler be released.

Exeunt

SCENE II. In your bedchambers.

Enter YOU and your servant, combing your hair in front of the mirror.

YOU

Thank you. Good mistress, how are you called?

SERVANT

The duchess does not address us by names, and neither must you. There is no need to get to know me better. We only serve His and Her Grace.

YOU

I understand. I ask only because I have had a good relationship with my maid back in Athain. Lady Cassia; her name, that is. She’s a reliable lady who stayed with me until the very end.

SERVANT

(indifferent) Then, call me Cora if that satisfies your preference.

YOU

Miss Cora. It fits well.

CORA

Wooing me with your artificial kindness is futile. My loyalty remains to the duchess.

YOU

Please do not misunderstand. It is not in my desire to earn favor from anyone in this household. The duke knows I would fain not be an unpleasant presence; rather, keep my silence in this chamber.

I assume you have heard stories of my exile? Lest it be those of misconceptions, I swear in my life that I am nothing more than a victim of the tyrant emperor and the crown prince’s cruelty.

CORA

(in silence, she places the comb atop the dresser) My lady, you come from a foreign land and remarried His Grace as soon as you were banished. Your sole aim is to reinstate your status at the expense of our duke whose decent reputation will be greatly dishonored. This marriage is too hasty, is it not, for two people to decide upon? All’s well in this manor ere your unforeseen arrival.

But shall I speak ill of him, that is my master? Or shall I speak well of you, that is a stranger?

YOU

I take your point. Never you mind, Miss Cora. All I guarantee is that I mean no harm.

A LADY

(from outside) Where is she? Where’s this girl?!

SERVANT

(from outside) Behind these doors stays the new lady, Your Grace.

Enter DUCHESS HERA and her maids, barging in your chambers and prompting you to give a courteous greeting. You immediately stand out of panic and meet the woman’s scrutinizing gaze. You recognize her as Hera, the first wife, after remembering Rintarou’s words in the carriage this morning describing the emeralds that were her eyes.

YOU

L-Lady Hera, hail and well met. I am delighted to make your acquaintance. How do you do?

DUCHESS HERA

What proper manners you lack! That is ‘duchess’ for you, a lowly woman of lesser fortune. You cunning wench. You abominable whore. Banished from your land and seduced my husband; how wretched!

You will not meander these halls at your freewill. You will not see the duke nor will you speak a word to him. It is the price you pay for staining his name with your ambitious desires. My husband is not a man that will give his heart to a woman like you.

YOU

(holding your breath) I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I did not covet your husband. Our marriage was at the order of Her Imperial Majesty. See me as anything but a threat.

DUCHESS HERA

You humor me with your audacity. A threat? When you and I are far alike? I am the first and true wife, the duchess, the beloved daughter of a marquess. And you, what are you?

YOU

Someone that wishes to stay out of your way. I seek no quarrel, Duchess Hera.

DUCHESS HERA

Seek no quarrel, yet here you are staying at the chamber closest to my husband’s? You put in this façade of a virtuous woman when in truth, you are one to offer your body to a married man. Bring your promiscuity elsewhere!

YOU

But those are far from the truth—

DUCHESS HERA

Stay away from my husband and never shall you speak of his name. Or if you must, then prepare for the hell I will send your way.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Dining hall.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU, DUCHESS HERA, LADY CI’AN, and YOUNG DEMIE as they all dine together with some servants standing on the side.

DUKE RINTAROU

(places his fork down and turns to a servant) Maid, come hither. Why is my wife not coming down?

SERVANT

The good madam is unwell and wishes to dine in her room, Your Grace.

DUCHESS HERA

(to the duke) Do not look far ahead. Two wives are already with you at this table.

LADY CI’AN

Hera speaks right. It is insulting that you look for another.

DUKE RINTAROU

(scoffs) What new kinship is this? Weren’t you at each other’s throats a fortnight ago?

DUCHESS HERA

This kinship is proof that Ci’an and I can live in peaceful coexistence. There is no need for another woman claiming the honor of your name as hers. This marriage is crowded. I request you evict that other lady at once!

LADY CI’AN

Unless you carry true feelings for her; then, speak now. Will you produce a child with her and neglect the one that is mine?

DUKE RINTAROU

Demie is not my child.

DUCHESS HERA

(stern) How oddly do you reply! That is not the question at hand. Is it by your will to impregnate the new lady? She is not from Faren!

LADY CI’AN

He needs an heir after all. (turns to the duke) I can bear you a child, but you dare have that with a lowly woman, Rintarou?

DUCHESS HERA

That Vestalis lady is a fallen noble no better than a slave! How preposterous—

DUKE RINTAROU

Enough! Be quiet! I don’t want to hear any more of it!

Dispraise her more with that same tongue and you will see true wrath from mine. (slams the napkin on the table) You talk about my third wife being a disgrace this and that, but look in the mirror and there you two will see who truly disgraces my good name.

(stands from his chair) I’ve lost my appetite. None of you follow me.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. In your bedchambers at night.

Enter YOU lying in bed, and the duke walking inside the room in silent footsteps. He sits at the corner of your bed, brushing the hair out of your face so he could touch your forehead.

DUKE RINTAROU

Unwell, my lady? Yet no heat rests on this forehead and on these cheeks.

YOU

(sitting up, avoiding his touch) Your Grace, how now, why have you come? I beg you come away and leave me alone.

DUKE RINTAROU

Are you making an order to the duke of this house?

YOU

An order, not. But a request to my kind husband, yes. I do ask henceforth that you and I maintain these transparent walls. I wish to keep my word and spend the rest of my grateful days in this chamber like a ghost you could not see, nor hear, nor feel.

DUKE RINTAROU

(sighing, pulls you for an embrace) Then, I, too, will make a request for my wife to stop shunning me away. Do you not need a husband to comfort you in your grief?

YOU

I will not put Your Grace in that responsibility.

DUKE RINTAROU

Caring for a person is not a responsibility. Cease your worries and let me care for you.

Moreover, I’d like you to start calling me Rin when we are alone.

YOU

Duke, you are too good to be true.

DUKE RINTAROU

Then, my darling, would you deny what is good and refuse what is true?

YOU

(smiling) You have a way with words.

DUKE RINTAROU

I never knew ‘till now. Show me more of that smile.

YOU

The very smile you have caused. Howbeit, you may find it in yourself to loathe my presence one day. After all, I have become a thief who stole your third marriage from a person that you could have truly loved.

DUKE RINTAROU

I could go on another decade and still not meet that person. Thus, would I rather whine about a lover that does not exist or instead work on attaining that love from one who does exist? Here she is, in my arms.

YOU

(moving slightly away) B-But we can’t.

DUKE RINTAROU

Why not? Because I have two other wives?

YOU

It is not the number, but the neutrality to us all. I came here telling myself that I will not take your heart.

DUKE RINTAROU

Hera has been my wife for six years, Ci’an for four, and yet no part of me could love them so dearly. You can force a marriage, but never a soulmate.

(guides you to rest your head on his chest) Mother and father didn’t love each other at first. She was his second wife and I, their only child. But even without that love, they held a growing attachment to each other, and eventually became a real couple. He loved her more than anyone else in this world and swore to the holy gods that he would protect her, even to their deathbeds.

YOU

What sweet love I could only envy.

DUKE RINTAROU

So should that sweet love be ours as well?

YOU

What we have is a bond too early to call love, Rin.

DUKE RINTAROU

I know, but we could have it one day. I can feel that you are not a woman I’d grow to dislike.

YOU

I will not give you a reason to dislike me any further than you may. If you trust my word and if you see my intentions without prejudice, I will prove to you that I will be worthy of your name.

(yawning) But until then, sleep calls for me.

DUKE RINTAROU

(tucks you under the duvet and pulls a nearby chair) Close your eyes and keep yourself warm under these sheets.

YOU

Will you head back to your chambers?

DUKE RINTAROU

Not ‘til you fall deep into your slumber.

YOU

(staring with a faint smile lingering on your lips) Do you sleep alone?

DUKE RINTAROU

More often than not. I hardly find the need to go to Hera or Ci’an’s chambers.

YOU

Don’t they seek you?

DUKE RINTAROU

They do. For marital activities, at least.

YOU

(blushing) Oh, t-that’s…

DUKE RINTAROU

(chuckles softly) We are married adults. If you’re curious, I have only done it with Hera for the sake of an heir. But two years after our marriage, we have not produced a child, so I find it pointless to still engage in such activities with her.

YOU

How about Lady Ci’an?

DUKE RINTAROU

Not once. I still see her as my half-brother’s wife.

YOU

I see.

DUKE RINTAROU

And yourself?

YOU

I haven’t. I remain chaste.

DUKE RINTAROU

(playfully) Celibate people are more susceptible to the pleasures of the flesh.

YOU

It is not that I wish to be celibate. Ever so willingly shall I give all of myself to the person I love, given that he is not like Crown Prince Fionn who has not an ounce of respect for women.

DUKE RINTAROU

That night. That night at the banquet; tell me the story of how your misfortune began.

YOU

(staring at the ceiling) The prince woo’d me at the height of my inebriety, escorted me to his chambers, and began to undress me. I had denied him and said no. Again and again did I scream, but his sadistic hand met my cheek with a hard slap. He call’d me a whore, threaten’d to take out his sword, claim’d I was too brazen to deny a crown prince. I ran away from the palace, past the knights, past the nobles; I wept as he chased after me, and that was when he twisted the events and made up the story that most of you now believe.

Palpable silence fills the room as the duke stares at you, watching how the windows of your eyes are falling heavier each second.

YOU

Do you… Do you believe me, Rin?

DUKE RINTAROU

I believe you.

Exeunt

SCENE V. At the training grounds.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU and CROWN PRINCE OSAMU practicing another round of sword fighting. They eventually drop their weapons and sit on the ground, panting out of breath.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

(through heavy breaths) Son of a gun, what makes you so energetic today? I have not seen a good sword fight from you ‘till this morrow.

DUKE RINTAROU

(leaning back and looking towards the afternoon skies) I have to improve my swordsmanship skills in case I come face-to-face with the crown prince of Athain one day.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

What’s this? What’s this—will you go to war for your new wife?

DUKE RINTAROU

If only.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

You ran your mouth and spoke contemptuously of her before your marriage; saw what a fair lady she is, and now you act drunk in love? Lovestruck? Does love make you tender?

DUKE RINTAROU

Nay, that’s not so.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Does it make you bright?

DUKE RINTAROU

‘Love’—you know that theme is foreign.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Then, you lusty man, you love with your eyes and not with your heart.

DUKE RINTAROU

Lust? By no means. I cherish and respect her.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

But do you admit that she is the most pleasing to look at?

DUKE RINTAROU

That, I can’t say no.

Enter EMPEROR ATSUMU and his mother the empress dowager, who both stand from a reasonable distance from the duke and the prince.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

Huh? My brother, what is this shameful connivance to do sword fight without me?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

You have better things to do.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

Excuses!

EMPRESS DOWAGER

(scolding Atsumu) Quit this puerile behavior. You are a man who runs an empire.

I see the duke has paid us a visit today. How are things?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Enpierced by Cupid’s arrow. A smitten lover he identifies himself.

DUKE RINTAROU

(bowing, kicking Osamu’s foot next to him) Your Imperial Majesty.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

In love? Well, well.

DUKE RINTAROU

Not—

EMPEROR DOWAGER

O my, to hear great news on a great day! Is it true? Is it true?

DUKE RINTAROU

(hiding his embarrassment)

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Aimed so near, mother. Silence is an act of submission.

EMPEROR DOWAGER

Very well! Excellent! How does it fare with your gentle wife? Woo her and win her heart, Rin. I see a future of a loving household coming your way.

DUKE RINTAROU

A long way to go still, Your Majesty. She seeks nothing more from me.

EMPEROR DOWAGER

She is unlike Duchess Hera or Lady Ci’an who both craved for your love and affection long before you were bound by marriage. Lady Y/N is as fair and humble as she is; no part of her is selfish and ambitious. I pray you make her a happy wife.

DUKE RINTAROU

How are happy wives made?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Be gentle with her, be affectionate to her. Give her gifts, give her kisses, and in no time shall this love bloom like a flower.

DUKE RINTAROU

If that is all that it takes.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

God spede you, my dear.

Exeunt

ACT IV

SCENE I. In your bedchambers. Morning.

Enter YOU sitting in your bed and CORA entering with your breakfast.

CORA

The duchess and the lady prefer if you eat by yourself again. Please do not seek His Grace for he will spend the rest of the day in his office. He tends to be on edge during work hours.

YOU

I understand.

CORA

(places the tray on your bed and backs away) Then, I shall take my leave.

YOU

Hang on. I do wish to ask if there is any more firewood? It is a bit cold at night and—

CORA

Faren’s climate is different from that of Athain’s. We experience shortage of firewood due to long periods of winter, so it would be best that you would not make such demands and learn to adapt on your own instead.

Before you can speak another word, the maid already steps out of the room and shuts the door, leaving you alone with not even a hearty meal for your sustenance. You soon lift the stainless cloche and instantly get a whiff of the putrid odor coming from the moldy bread and the spoiled vegetable soup, further noticing that even the drinking water served to you has dust collectively floating on it.

YOU

(sighing, you push the tray away) How much longer must I live like this? Is death not more merciful than banishment? Grateful am I to have found such a shelter that so readily welcomed me, but at what cost?

Clothing of my own, yet food I cannot consume? Bed for my comfort, yet no firewood to keep me warm? I better have accepted my fate as a slave than a wife of a duke.

Exit YOU, heading to take a bath. Enter DUKE RINTAROU, walking inside your chamber only to see an empty bed.

DUKE RINTAROU

Wife? Are you there?

(sees all the spoiled food on the tray and frowns) Maid! What is this?

SERVANT

Y-Your Grace, it is not I who serv’d the lady.

DUKE RINTAROU

Then, who’s the impertinent dunce that dares feed my wife with these? Summon her to me!

Re-enter CORA, panicking and looking at the floor.

CORA

Duke, I b-beg your forgiveness.

DUKE RINTAROU

So it’s you.

CORA

I cry your mercy. I was only following—

DUKE RINTAROU

Eat it.

CORA

P-Pardon me?

DUKE RINTAROU

Eat the damned food you served my wife! Or if not, I will dismiss you at once. I assume you are not dense enough to know the influence I have with the imperial family?

(turns to other servants, rigid) And the rest of you, do you all treat my wife this way?

Re-enter YOU, wrapped in a white robe after a quick bath.

YOU

Your Grace? What is going on?

DUKE RINTAROU

This insolent maid who’s been serving you under my command. How many instances has this happen’d?

YOU

(approaching the duke) I plead you let it be. I hold no grudge for this has only occurred once. Miss Cora is kind and treats me well.

DUKE RINTAROU

Don’t lie.

YOU

I swear by the moon.

DUKE RINTAROU

(stares at Cora with a stern gaze) You, get out of my sight. From hereafter, you will join the laundry maids and ne’er shall you go near my wife again.

CORA

Y-Yes, Your Grace. I am at your mercy.

(turns to you and offers an apologetic bow) My lady, please accept my sincerest apologies.

Exit CORA and other servants

YOU

Duke?

DUKE RINTAROU

(sighing) It’s Rin.

YOU

Rin, wherefore storm you so? I was told you had a busy day ahead.

DUKE RINTAROU

I’ve cleared my schedule. Tell me first, how do Hera and Ci’an treat you?

YOU

They treat me as I desire. Chastise them not for your wives have not done me wrong. Is this what you came here for?

DUKE RINTAROU

No, my purpose is to ask if it’s in your interest to travel around the capital city. Just you and I. Perchance by noontime?

YOU

A date?

DUKE RINTAROU

Exactly that. I will have a sumptuous breakfast served for you again, then have the maids dress and groom you. Our carriage leaves before noon. Today, at the hour of ten.

YOU

B-But, what is the occasion? How about Duchess Hera and Lady Ci’an?

DUKE RINTAROU

What about them? They have had plenty of my time long before you became my wife.

The duke pulls out a small rectangular box from the pocket of his coat, revealing a sparkling amethyst necklace that he soon enclosed around your neck. You then feel his warm lips pressing on your nape before you turn around to him with wide eyes.

YOU

Rin, this is…!

DUKE RINTAROU

My belated wedding gift.

YOU

(touching the gem) So sudden and unannounced. I fail to understand. I expect none of your kindness, yet you provide me with such husbandly devotion.

DUKE RINTAROU

Have we not agreed to work on attaining that real love between a husband and wife? (takes your hand and plants a kiss on it) Go and get ready.

Exeunt

SCENE II. At a famous restaurant for nobles.

Enter YOU, DUKE RINTAROU, some servants and some nobles in the background.

YOU

‘Nouvelle’? It looks extravagant, Your Grace. Even some nobles themselves are denied at the front door, but here you are renting the whole balcony with the best view.

DUKE RINTAROU

I did not pay a single faree to have this place for ourselves. (leans back comfortably and lights his cigar) Usually, it’d cost more or less ten thousand farees to reserve this balcony.

YOU

Then, how come? Is it your influence that earned our costless lunch in this high end highfalutin restaurant?

DUKE RINTAROU

I own every inch of this establishment. This among my other businesses.

YOU

I see now. I see why.

DUKE RINTAROU

See what, my lady?

YOU

See us; you, me. You are a noble from the upper echelon of high society. The fortune you enjoy is equal to the Grand Duke of Athain and the glances you receive alone makes it seem like you are a member of the imperial family.

DUKE RINTAROU

Fortunes don’t guarantee eternal happiness.

YOU

Better than none, Your Grace.

DUKE RINTAROU

My wealth and fortune are now yours as well. Even if it doesn’t grant you eternal happiness, then at the very least, you have a lifetime to experience luxury.

Enter two noble ladies, approaching the duke.

LADY DELIA

Your Grace, it is an honor to see you here today. I can barely recall the last time you brought Duchess Hera to Nouvelle.

LADY ISMENE

O! How we miss seeing you two together. Her Grace is the most beautiful woman in town and you stand quite a handsome man yourself. It would delight us all in high society to see you and Duchess Hera together, Duke.

(closing her handheld brise) Is this the new lady, perchance? The one from Athain?

YOU

(awkwardly introducing yourself) Happily met, I am Lady Y/N Vestalis—

DUKE RINTAROU

(to the two ladies) Next time you come and interrupt my wife and I, you will be bann’d from entering Nouvelle.

Lady Ismene, it doesn’t matter to me if your father, His Excellency, holds a good reputation. The empress is indebted to me and I can very well use my leverage against you.

YOU

Rin, it’s quite alright.

LADY DELIA

(embarrassed) Forgive our insolence, Your Grace. You never defend your first wife like this. We just hold Duchess Hera with such high regard and to see you next to someone like this lady who…

DUKE RINTAROU

I dare you finish that sentence. Your life depends on it.

YOU

Rin.

LADY ISMENE

I suppose the rumors are true that you have been bewitched by Lady Y/N. You bought all the in-season dresses from the most prominent tailor in town and left the rest of us with an outdated wardrobe. Please understand that it is insulting that she gets to wear all the high fashion pieces when she’s lower than us, Your Grace.

DUKE RINTAROU

So you both carried the confidence to speak to me like this because of a mere dress? Do you think I care so much for the nonsense that leaves your mouth?

LADY DELIA

We only care for your sake, Duke Rin. The rest of the noble ladies do not favor your third wife.

DUKE RINTAROU

Over three months ago, did you not beg on my knees for me to take you as my betrothed? Your ludicrous attempts make you as desperate as you look.

(calling for his knights) Drag these two ladies out.

YOU

(getting up) No, Duke, the onus is on me. They only speak the truth. Please do not seek me out for I can return to the manor on my own. You cannot be seen with me in the first place.

Exit YOU, heading out of the restaurant.

DUKE RINTAROU

What are you talking about—wife!

Exeunt

SCENE III. At the orchard. Eventide.

Enter YOU, overlooking the rose garden and enjoying the cold breeze in your deep thoughts. A golden bird with green eyes suddenly lands in front of you.

YOU

Good eve, little fellow! Do you accompany my nightly sorrow?

(sighing, mumbling to yourself) Gone were the seven days from when I ran away from the restaurant. So often did I hide in my chambers day and night, and pretend to be in my slumber when the duke visits. But I could not allow him to be insulted whenever he is seen with me. He comes and goes, then lets me alone at long last. I should be at ease that my eyes have not seen his princely face for three days.

(crouching down to look at the bird) What do you say? I pray, can you speak? You have become my only friend in this household. Therefore, be it as you are, shall I just run away and seek death somewhere else?

The bird chirps and flaps its wings as if to disagree.

A MAN

Argus tells you no, my lady.

YOU

Y-Your Highness?

Enter CROWN PRINCE OSAMU, whistling for ‘Argus’ the bird to fly and land on his shoulder.

YOU

(curtsying) What brings Your Imperial Highness hither or, rather, wherefore? Is it a word that you crave with my husband?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

I’ve come to speak with Rin about my mother’s birthday feast on Friday next.

YOU

He is not present at this orchard, Your Highness.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Then, the butler speaks true.

YOU

What says he?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

That Rin is out horse riding with Hera. They have spent all morning together.

YOU

…well, she is his first wife.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

(grinning) My lady, why do you speak of death with a bird? Could it be for that aforementioned reason?

YOU

Not at all, Your Highness.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

You say ‘not’ while biting your cheeks.

YOU

I say ‘not’ as it is.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

(chuckles, taking your hand and planting a kiss on it) Come to the banquet and honor me with a dance.

YOU

The honor would be mine, however, it would be more courteous for me not to come. The duke is better off without stringing his third wife along.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

If you worry about the guests, then leave it to me. Jealousy plagues the nobles of Faren, but never will they outwardly show it in front of a member of the imperial family.

YOU

You are as kind as your mother.

The bird whistles a musical note as you smile and caress its feathers. Soon enough, the clip clop sound from the horse becomes louder and louder, and you turn around to see your husband holding his first wife from behind.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Here they are.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU and DUCHESS HERA, the former hoisting himself out of the horse and carrying the latter by her waist. You stand in silence and avoid his eyes.

DUKE RINTAROU

‘Samu. How now?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Do you have time?

DUCHESS HERA

(clinging to the duke’s arm) Go on, my love. I’ll be alright.

DUKE RINTAROU

I’ll leave you, then. Keep yourself warm. (takes off his coat and drapes it around her shoulders)

DUCHESS HERA

No warmth is the same as my husband’s touch, but off you go.

The duke gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and heads to your way.

YOU

Your Grace, good—

DUKE RINTAROU

(walking past you) ‘Samu, let’s exchange words in my office and crush a cup of wine.

Exit DUKE RINTAROU and CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

DUCHESS HERA

My, my. Did you think my husband was going to greet you with a kiss?

YOU

I-I think none of that.

DUCHESS HERA

You pathetic, lowly wretch. He thinks of you no better than a slave he bought at an auction.

YOU

(walking away) I’ll take my leave.

DUCHESS HERA

Stop right there. Do they not teach you manners in Athain?

YOU

Your Grace, it seems that you did not learn it here in Faren, either.

DUCHESS HERA

(slaps you across the face) How dare you!

YOU

(tearful, touching your cheek) When will you accept that I never wanted to ruin your marriage with the duke?

DUCHESS HERA

You and your cunning ways! You bring an unsightly presence to this estate.

YOU

Then, ignore me. Leave me be. I hardly cross your path, even, so why do you—ah!

DUCHESS HERA

(snatches the necklace off your neck) What’s this?

YOU

Prithee, Your Grace, g-give it back.

DUCHESS HERA

Touch me not! This necklace, did you steal it?!

YOU

I would never! The duke gave it to me as a wedding gift.

DUCHESS HERA

Fie! This necklace is worth two hundred thousand farees. There is only one of these in the world and he offer’d it to you?

YOU

That is why I value it with all my life. I beg you to return it to me, Duchess.

DUCHESS HERA

No! (pushes you aside) Away, you saucy, mannerless whore! Now, you reveal your ill interests for jewels and such?

Exit DUCHESS HERA

YOU

Your Grace, please!

Exeunt

ACT IV. In your bedchambers.

Enter YOU, crying in bed. You hear the door opening and closing, but did not move an inch under the duvet.

DUKE RINTAROU

My lady?

YOU

(holding your breath as you feel him sitting in bed)

DUKE RINTAROU

My sweet wife?

YOU

This is not her; she’s some other where.

DUKE RINTAROU

Are you mad? I did not ignore you by my will.

YOU

Good night.

DUKE RINTAROU

Can’t you look into my eyes? (peels the blanket off your face) Can you not show your husband that bright smile?

YOU

What reason would I have to smile so bright?

DUKE RINTAROU

Are you crying? You feel hot. Are you sick?

YOU

(turns away) Sick in grief, mayhap.

DUKE RINTAROU

Is it jealousy?

YOU

By my troth, I do not bear those feelings. I speak my truest words; I am unlike Duke.

DUKE RINTAROU

(holding you close, then pressing his lips against your bare shoulder) I avoided you because you ask’d me to leave you alone, did you not? I spent my day with Ci’an yesterday and Hera today because it is an obligation—nothing more, nothing less. Now my genuine hours are your time, my love.

YOU

Your love?

DUKE RINTAROU

I speak my truest words, after all.

YOU

But Rin.

DUKE RINTAROU

And may I request that you stop running away while I am defending you? Lady Ismene and Lady Delia shall never speak ill of you again.

YOU

My husband, what have you done?

DUKE RINTAROU

What any husband would. (tucks the hair out of your face) And this morning with Hera, I treat her with kindness to appease her growing jealousy towards you. In exchange for my time, she promised to speak gently to you whenever I am not around.

YOU

(mumbling) She speaks false.

DUKE RINTAROU

Hmm?

YOU

Nothing. You should head back to your chambers.

DUKE RINTAROU

The night is young and I still wish to know what made your eyes damp.

YOU

I told you—grief.

DUKE RINTAROU

For your parents still? (touching your neck with his index finger, unaware about the abrasion on your skin when Hera pulled the necklace)

YOU

(wincing from the pain) C-Careful, please.

DUKE RINTAROU

Does it hurt? Why?

YOU

Just sore and stiff is all.

DUKE RINTAROU

I’d be good to help lessen that soreness. (kisses your neck slowly) Will you allow it?

YOU

Your lips feel warm.

DUKE RINTAROU

So melt into it. Turn around and face me, Y/N.

YOU

(doing as told, facing him with heated cheeks) Will you sleep here tonight?

DUKE RINTAROU

Is that an invitation?

YOU

(feeling his kisses on your bare shoulder, allowing him to move his lips to your chest) A genuine question.

DUKE RINTAROU

What do you think, my wife?

YOU

I see no wrong, but… your wives.

DUKE RINTAROU

(hushes you with an open-mouthed kiss while unbuttoning his tunic slowly and unlacing your nightgown) Are you scared? I’ll be gentle.

YOU

Not scared, but cautious.

DUKE RINTAROU

Your heart’s beating fast. (chuckles) It’s alright, let us not—

YOU

No, no. I… It’s about time we do. I have marital obligations with you.

DUKE RINTAROU

Don’t feel obligated.

YOU

I’m not. I just see it in those eyes that you want it.

DUKE RINTAROU

Want you? I do. So much it makes a man crazy.

YOU

(shyly kissing his lips) Rin.

DUKE RINTAROU

I’ll get drunk from those lips.

The duke pins you under him, feathering kisses on your neck and touching your thigh. He lowers himself and presses his crotch against yours—eyes half-lidded as begins to undress.

DUKE RINTAROU

(kisses your nose, jaw, and breasts before attaching his lips back to yours) My beautiful wife.

YOU

(smiling) My godly husband.

DUKE RINTAROU

I am all yours tonight.

Exeunt

ACT V. Morning at the fountain near the garden.

Enter YOU, meandering through the garden and YOUNG DEMIE, balancing herself near the fountain.

YOU

(approaching) Young Miss, be careful or else you might fall.

DEMIE

(glaring) You bad lady! Mama said you stole my papa from us!

YOU

Demie, I am not stealing your dad—

DEMIE

Shut up! Shut up! You’re a witch!

YOU

Young lady, you should speak kindly to your elders. I understand that you are angry, but I come here in peace. Let me carry you out of there before you slip into the fountain, come.

DEMIE

No, stay away!

The young miss backs away in an attempt to avoid you; however, her foot slips on the edge of the platform and causes her to fall inside the water reservoir. Her screeching screams have you jolting in surprise, quickly reaching forward to help her out of the fountain. She refuses to touch your hand and calls for her nurse who is scurrying out of the manor with a towel. Her nanny scoops her up and wraps her with the thick cloth as she continues to cry.

NURSE

My lady! Young miss! O, dearest God. Are you alright?

Enter LADY CI’AN, storming angrily towards you

LADY CI’AN

What happen’d here?! What did you do to my child? Are you so righteous that you harm a child now that you have my husband sleeping in your room?!

YOU

I-I did nothing, Lady Ci’an. I swear on my life.

LADY CI’AN

(turning to Demie) Is that true?

DEMIE

(nervous) Yes, mama. I fell—

LADY CI’AN

Foolish answer! You did not fall, you were push’d!

YOU

But I didn’t. Do not twist her words and condition her mind with false accusations, Lady Ci'an.

Good nurse, you saw what happened, did you not?

NURSE

I saw it not, madam.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU

DUKE RINTAROU

So much noise for a silent forenoon. What’s all this?

LADY CI’AN

That lady that so boldly crawls in your bed. She cursed my harmless daughter and pushed her in that fountain! Demie; whose childish tongue did not mean to injure her pride, tried to beg her away, ‘away!’ she yells, and yet here, this vile woman swung her arms at her!

YOU

(shaking your head frantically) I would not! Duke, you know I could never do that to a child.

DUKE RINTAROU

Demie. What says you?

DEMIE

(sniffing and wiping her eyes) The lady, papa. She pushed me.

YOU

But—!

DUKE RINTAROU

And you, nurse?

NURSE

I go by the child’s word, Your Grace. Demie is a kind young lady who always means well.

YOU

I could never lie over something like this.

LADY CI’AN

Are you calling us liars? When there are three of us and one of you? Rintarou, tell me you would not believe this woman. We already warned you about her artifice.

DUKE RINTAROU

(exhaling in frustration) Leave.

LADY CI’AN, DEMIE, and the nurse all look at him blankly.

DUKE RINTAROU

I said leave, Y/N.

YOU

Rin…

DUKE RINTAROU

Go to your chambers. I have nothing else to say to you.

Exeunt

to be continued…

ACT I

SCENE I. At the plaza in the Athain Empire.

Enter YOU and LADY CASSIA, from the house of Vestalis, among the crowd watching the public execution of Earl Caius and Countess Isilia Vestalis who are both in pillories in the middle of the town square.

YOU

(held back by knights, tears running down your cheek) Stop! Let go of Mama and Papa! H-Have me a word with His Majesty,  I-I will bargain for my parents’ lives. Please… Set them free, I-I beg all of you!

KNIGHT 1

Besiege if you must, but they will go on deaf ears. No amount of pleading can change an imperial decree, you foolish girl! (sniggering with the other knights)

KNIGHT 2

(to the knight) Is she not the only daughter of the house of Vestalis? The very lady who incited the malicious slander towards our great emperor’s son?

KNIGHT 1

Ay, but a young flower like her will only be warranted with exile, and before that, she is still ripe enough to warm our noblemen’s beds. Even us, their men, are free to take her chastity and pass her around! (laughing)

YOU

Disgusting pigs! Is an innocent woman’s misfortune something to laugh upon? (resisting their hold, sobbing in despair) Is the ill-fate of someone such a celebration, sir?

LADY CASSIA

(pulling you away from the knights) My poor lady, I beg for your safety, let us retreat—

YOU

Leave my parents be for they only defended their helpless daughter! It is the Crown Prince Fionn who deserves punishment for harassing me, a vestal woman who did no wrong. Being the emperor’s son does not excuse him for his wrongdoings!

KNIGHT 1

Silence that filthy mouth! (slaps you) Tainting the imperial name will bring you no good, lady.

Murmurs from the surrounding crowd ensues—those of pity for the downfallen noble family while fearing for their own. The Imperial Order of Knights all gather around the Earl and the Countess, preparing them for guillotine.

KNIGHT COMMANDER

Enough! People of Athain, these traitors before you are punish’d with reason. Possess your mind with gratitude as you are not the one subjected under the horrors of those blades. Now, step back and be a witness to how justice is serv’d under His Majesty’s rule!

Anyone, even those of nobles, are not spared of public execution should slander be done towards the imperial family.

(to the knights) Make haste and behead them!

YOU

N-No—!

EARL CAIUS

My daughter, leave now! Do not torture your eyes with the image of our slaughter.

LADY CASSIA

Young lady! (takes you in her arms) Let me in on your sorrow. Your father and mother do not wish to have you witness their death. Come, I will take care of you.

COUNTESS ISILIA

Live long, my child! Be as far away from this empire as you can. (smiles weakly at you, head and wrists secured at the bottom of the wooden frame)

YOU

No, Mama, Papa! (wailing, running off to your parents) This is my fault. Had I just silenced my woes and let that cruel man be. O, our holy goddess Athena, I pray to you. Please protect my parents from this injustice. Let them go, let them go—

Blades are then released—fresh blood splattering onto your cheek as two decapitated bodies have separated from their heads. You fall on your knees with wide eyes, trembling and horrified at the macabre sight. The Earl and the Countess are thus beheaded.

Exeunt

SCENE II. At the Faren Empire. A room in the palace.

Enter EMPRESS DOWAGER and DUKE RINTAROU

DUKE RINTAROU

You call’d for my presence, Your Majesty?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Indeed, I have. (sits on her throne) A proposal is what I offer you, my young duke. A messenger bird from a neighboring empire arrived last eve.

DUKE RINTAROU

A message from Athain?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

From a noble family, that is. Do you remember Earl Caius of Athain? He is a man I owe my husband’s honor. A man from a foreign land who saved my husband from war twenty five years ago. He now finds himself in need of a favor from me. (turns to the window, forlornly)

Such a tragic fate befell his family and a poor daughter who has not seen better days—left behind and exiled from their land. The Earl and his Countess are to be executed. Or, hereinbelow, have been.

DUKE RINTAROU

What crimes have they committed to receive such a pitiful punishment?

Enter the twins, EMPEROR ATSUMU and CROWN PRINCE OSAMU, both in training armor

EMPEROR ATSUMU

They are deemed profaners to the imperial family, enemies of their good name. Crown Prince Fionn sexually assaulted a daughter of Vestalis during the banquet, but that’s only hearsay. Who’s to say that the lady was not lying?

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

Careful, now. That angel you malign is Rin’s betrothed.

DUKE RINTAROU

(turns to Osamu, defensive) Of what angel you speak of will be my wife? I have twice that burden in my estate. The first, a noble woman my heart did not seek but espoused at the request of my late father. The second, a widower of my half-brother, and I, obligated to be the paternal figure to their son.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Our empire approves the polygamy of up to three wives. You have room for one more, do you not?

DUKE RINTAROU

But Empress, I pay no interest in adding another to my household, especially one who comes from a foreign land, one whose name I don't even know of. My troublesome wives are enough to deal with as is.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Think of it as a chivalrous duty to save yet another woman’s dignity. She is left to fend for herself—if not protected, will be mercilessly preyed upon like a lost deer in a forest full of hunters. The lady ought to receive nobility in our land to replace her tarnished name, and what better choice there is than someone as valiant as you, my young duke?

DUKE RINTAROU

(contemplating) If the banished lady will flee to Faren, thousands of nobles alike are there to take her. Wherefore even your sons can do so—have her take their name and live in this palace you take shelter on.

Yet tell me not for I know what you will say. Sons of the imperial family cannot marry an exiled woman for diplomatic reasons, much less that of a fallen noble from an empire led by a tyrant ruler. And therefore, this choice leaves you with me. A duke high in nobility, but neither regal nor monarchal enough to cause conflict against a neighboring empire. What freewill do I have when an empress who is like my own mother makes such an order?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

(smiles, walks forward to embrace him) It gladdens me that you understand. Your kindness will be rewarded, my dear. Any request you have in return, I shall grant reasonably.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

When has our soft-hearted Rin not appeased you, mother? (patting the duke’s shoulder)

EMPEROR ATSUMU

That softness you mean is nought but a hard shell outside. So often did I see your moue, Rin. Are your wives quarreling again?

DUKE RINTAROU

And ne’er will it end now that another woman is to become my wife. (turns to the empress, sighing) The lady I am bound to by marriage, is she peregrinating alone out of Athain?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

A carriage awaits her near the borders by nightfall, and erelong the wedding shall the lady arrive. Worry not, your other wives will be apprised. Your presence is all that I require.

Exit EMPRESS DOWAGER

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

What burdens your mind, Rin?

DUKE RINTAROU

(leaning against the wall) I know nothing of her name, nor her face, nor the person that she is. To call her exquisite is what a liar will serve, to call her wretched will dub me a callous man.

But if she’s proven to be another nuisance to my household, I will let her live in a separate hall so we do not cross paths. Only by pity and responsibility am I marrying that woman.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

Well, aren’t you so cold? (sniggering) How much do I bet you will find love with your third wife this time around?

DUKE RINTAROU

Bet as you like it, then I will be the richest in this empire.

They laugh and continue to banter.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

She must be the fairest girl in town if Prince Fionn took notice of her.

DUKE RINTAROU

Having a man forcing himself on her, regardless of his imperial status, is never a compliment.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

Ay, I know, I know! Howbeit, my point still stands. How beautiful could this lady be that a prince would recklessly and desperately do such a horrid attempt on her?

DUKE RINTAROU

(falls silent, ruminating) Come to think of it, my current wives can be disdainful towards each other. How much more for this foreign woman who was exiled and accused of vilifying a crown prince? They will insult her to no end.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

And given that she is as fair as we imagine, your first wife Hera will be enraged. Lady Ci’an may be more humane, but she is just as possessive of you. Isn’t that a disastrous storm awaiting? (chuckling) Now, take your mind off things and practice sword fighting with us.

Exeunt

SCENE III. In a carriage.

Enter YOU, staring at the window with LADY CASSIA rubbing your shoulder.

LADY CASSIA

Cry it all out, my darling. Let all tears fall like rain on a heavy storm. That grief of yours will soon find light, away from the darkness that clouded you in Athain and all its land.

YOU

(bawling silently) I weep not for my own, but for my humble parents whose reputation was besmirched because of me. O, this pain in my chest! How they died will be ingrained in my memory, haunting me eternally.

LADY CASSIA

My child, pass the blame not onto yourself. Your parents did what they can to defend your honor, but the despot that runs our empire will always prevail. Erase those atrocious memories and live a better life in Faren.

YOU

In Faren, you say? (wipes your eyes) It is by my knowledge that I am banished. I have no means to travel to Faren.

LADY CASSIA

Before the execution, your father has sent a message to the bounden empress dowager, requesting if they could offer you a good life in Faren in exchange for saving Her Majesty’s husband from a war some years ago.

Another carriage awaits you on the borders of Athain, and thereupon you will be journeying to Faren with a new life, new title, and new household.

YOU

Whose household will take a fallen woman like myself?

LADY CASSIA

You are betrothed to a duke; his third wife is what you shall become. Her Majesty the Empress assures that the gentleman is not someone you should fear.

YOU

(in despair) Regardless!

Wherefore is my cruel fate neverending? To be disrespected by men, to see my parents’ perishing before my eyes, and now to marry a stranger in a faraway land who may do me harm in any way he can. Am I not easily sold like a flower in the market? Is pity not something I deserve, but owe? Is choosing to love freely not a choice, but a privilege?

LADY CASSIA

Now, now. Beggars cannot be choosers, but be indebted that you will be regarded as a noble in an empire that is willing to welcome you, an orphan of this sorrowful life. You will not be a maid nor a mistress, but a wife of a duke. You will have food on your table, a bed for your comfort—this is your father’s dying wish. Honor it, my dear.

YOU

(stares outside of the window, praying) Holy goddess Athena, I seek your guidance.

LADY CASSIA

And She shall guide you. Have faith.

Exeunt

ACT II

SCENE I. At the imperial chapel in Faren.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU at the altar, EMPEROR ATSUMU, CROWN PRINCE OSAMU, EMPRESS DOWAGER, a pastor, a few nobles, and some imperial knights, all in attendance for the simple wedding.

EMPEROR ATSUMU

Nervous?

DUKE RINTAROU

(rigid) A bride whose face I am yet to see. Who wouldn’t be?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

She arrived two nightfalls ago; from morn to eve, the palace maids have cleaned her, dress’d her, and made her bloom like a daisy in an orchard. Be at ease, my young duke. The lady is soft-spoken and unassuming.

O, here comes the bride!

Enter YOU, in a wedding dress and a gossamer white veil, holding a bouquet of irises as you walk down the aisle. The duke sees that you are hiding melancholy in your eyes.

CROWN PRINCE OSAMU

(mumbling) So should that beauty put you at ease, Rin.

You meet a speechless Rintarou at the altar where he offers a hand; both of you turn to the pastor with not another word spoken.

PASTOR

At high noon, here we gather to witness the union of Rintarou Suna and Y/N Vestalis;

Joining hands with which will bring them as one

Unfolding eternal happiness from this holy matrimony

And exchanging vows from one’s own breath to prove their undying love

Together, bride and groom, do you accept this holy marriage?

DUKE RINTAROU

(eyes scanning your face) I vow to stand before her as her husband.

YOU

And I, to him as his wife.

Exeunt

SCENE II. At the grand hall.

Enter YOU, overhearing the gossips from the noblewomen of high society.

LADY LUCILLE

(murmuring to other nobles, covering her mouth with a handled brise) Hearsay it is that the duke’s third wife is an exiled lady from Athain.

LADY AIMI

What a disgrace she brings! Wherefore does Her Majesty approve this marriage? The poor handsome duke had to wed her out of sympathy instead of saving that third marriage for someone his heart truly seeks.

LADY LUCILLE

Ah, but Duchess Hera will put her in place. Soon as they meet, it is doubtful that she will be treated with kindness in their household.

The noble ladies laugh scornfully as you pass by.

YOU

(whispering to yourself) Belittle me more for I have heard worse.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU

DUKE RINTAROU

My lady?

YOU

Y-Your Grace. How now, have you been standing there for long?

DUKE RINTAROU

No, pardon my disappearance. I was speaking to Atsumu. (offers a hand) Care to have our first dance?

YOU

(takes his hand; both of you dance gracefully) His Majesty the Emperor, you mean? You seem to speak of him so casually.

DUKE RINTAROU

He’s a childhood friend of mine. Him and his brother alike.

YOU

And that’s why the empress entrusts you with such a request as well.

DUKE RINTAROU

(nodding) Have you spoken to Her Majesty?

YOU

Merely to welcome me to Faren and console me from my…

DUKE RINTAROU

Grief? I’ve heard. That must have left you scarred.

YOU

Scarred, no less. But my anguish is not enough for you to take the burden of this loveless marriage. I understand if you completely dislike me, Duke. Detest me, even, for I am a stranger to your eyes.

I am at the mercy of your kindness, and so I will not seek the Duke’s love nor will I seek any affection from a man whose only responsibility is to save my grace. See to it that I will know my place as your third wife. I will stay away from your path, live and die quietly alone, and never dishonor your name.

DUKE RINTAROU

(stops, squeezes your hand) My lady, you overcompensate.

YOU

It is only fair to you that I do so. You have two wives to take better care of.

DUKE RINTAROU

Two wives I hold no affection for.

YOU

Still and all; they are honorable ladies that you are married to. I am nothing more but an orphan to your house.

DUKE RINTAROU

Then, how can you assure that you are someone I can trust? If I speak from my honest mind, I find it difficult to assume that you will not cause me trouble. You caught yourself entangled in a scandal with a crown prince, and rumor has it that you seduced him, then tainted his name after you were rejected. Now I am forced to take you in as my wife, do you understand where I am getting at?

YOU

(tearful) Your Grace, d-did you think I would sacrifice my parents’ lives for something so selfish? No solipsistic concern is enough for me to let my family be slain before my eyes! Be at your own judgement, but the goddess Athena knows that my soul is clean and that no lies carry this heart of mine. I am simply a victim of injustice!

DUKE RINTAROU

My lady, I wasn’t intending to offend.

You wipe your eyes and take a step back, refusing to meet the Duke’s eyes.

YOU

None taken. You do right with your honest sentiments.

Exit YOU

LADY AIMI

Your Grace! Your Grace, how insolent can that woman be? So self-righteous is she, when she’s the one who’s been accepted by you!

LADY LUCILLE

Her display of conceit is revolting! That lowly woman was banished from Athain for a good reason. Leave it to us to teach her a lesson, Duke.

DUKE RINTAROU

(serious) The lady you speak ill of is my wife. Touch a single strand of her hair and you will lose all of yours at my word.

Exit DUKE RINTAROU

THE NOBLE LADIES

B-But Duke!

Exeunt

SCENE III. A guest room in the palace. Night time.

Enter YOU, sitting at the window seat and overseeing the palace’s rose garden. You touch the necklace that your father gave you, sighing morosely.

YOU

The sky weeps with me, Mama and Papa. Wherever you may be, I hope eternal rest finds your way as I, too, wish to find it soon.

Enter EMPRESS DOWAGER, approaching you by the window. You stand up at once and offer a curtsy to the empress.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Lady Y/N, why have tears sought your eyes?

YOU

Your Imperial Majesty, it is my parents that I long for on this cold eve.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Your husband shall join you here to warm you with his comfort soon. In the meantime, I am here to offer some advice.

YOU

Advice, Your Majesty?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Tonight, be at peace in this palace. Tomorrow, be prepared as you will be lodging at Rintarou’s manor. Two wives live at his household; Duchess Hera, his first wife who is a noble of high social status, is a possessive woman that loves him passionately. Lady Ci’an, his second wife who is a widower of his half-brother, is a prideful woman who seeks his equal love and attention. It might intimidate you to find a place in his home, but learn to use your mind and ne’er your emotions when it comes to dealing with both women.

YOU

Empress, if I may ask, why is it that you find it easy to trust me?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Because I am indebted to your father. I know what kind of man he is and I trust what kind of person he raised you. He is the reason I was able to spend twenty more years with my husband before he died of illness last winter.

YOU

Had it not been for my father, I would be sleeping with an empty stomach in a desolate land.

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Therefore, you shall live for him. And for your mother. You were given a chance at life to begin anew, so live long and prosper.

Enter DUKE RINTAROU

DUKE RINTAROU

Empress? What is Your Majesty’s will?

EMPRESS DOWAGER

Ah, it is only a quick visit so I can speak to your wife. (turns to you) Remember my words, my dear. I shall send you off tomorrow.

Exit EMPRESS DOWAGER. You and the duke both curtsy to the empress before her lady-in-waiting shuts the door to your room. The duke approaches you closer, but you move away.

DUKE RINTAROU

My lady, about earlier…

YOU

Your Grace, I-I apologize for letting my emotions get the best of me.

DUKE RINTAROU

(takes another step closer) No, you were right. I spoke recklessly.

YOU

I stand by my word. I vow to never be burdensome to you; as I already am. Do not feel obligated to spend our wedding night together for none of this is favorable to you.

DUKE RINTAROU

What kind of man would I be to leave my wife in this palace alone?

The duke starts unbuttoning his shirt and reaches for a robe. Your hands begin to shake, a flashback of Prince Fionn’s assault entering your mind. By instinct, you fall on your knees and beg for mercy.

YOU

D-Duke, please don’t. I know my marital obligations, but s-since you and I are not in love, I thought you wouldn’t want anything more from me.

DUKE RINTAROU

(confused) My lady, get up. What are you talking about?

YOU

Y-Your Grace…

You tremble as you watch him tie the knot on his robe. The duke recognizes the fear and trauma in your eyes, prompting him to pull you up in comfort.

DUKE RINTAROU

I’m not that kind of man. Is it my presence that discomforts you? You and I are husband and wife; it is only right for us to sleep on the same bed. But beyond that, I have no other malicious intentions.

YOU

(breathing deeply) I’m sorry, i-it was a misjudgment on my part.

DUKE RINTAROU

Then, go to sleep. Pay me no mind. (pats your head) Only tonight will we share this bed.

YOU

Duke..?

DUKE RINTAROU

Yes?

YOU

Your other wives. I can see why they love you dearly.

DUKE RINTAROU

Yet there’s no one I love the same. All that I do is for someone else and never myself. (stares at the ceiling, breathing calmly)

Good night, my wife.

Exeunt

To be continued…

“Four?” His voice echoes from outside.

“I'm not letting you in.”

“When's the last time you had a dick in ya?”

“Toji!”

Cheeks flushing, you pull open the door again. “Shut the fuck up.” You hiss, dragging him into your apartment. “Do you want to embarrass me?”

He raises his arms, as if to prove his innocence. “I just asked a question.”

You glare up at his mischiveous eyes, watching his pupils dilate in amusement. “Sleep on the couch. Don't even think about it.”

“About you?”

You walk towards your bedroom, refusing to look back at him— if you do, you know you’ll be caught up in his lust. “About anything.”

Toji is stuck on your mind, late into the night as you lay in bed, blankly staring up at the ceiling. The last time you saw him was a few months ago. And just like you’d scoffed at him, he did take the cash from your wallet on his way out. That fucking asshole. But even though he’s a terrible thief, that isn’t what pisses you off about Toji.

It’s just… he never contacts you. He comes and goes whenever he feels like it, making you worry. He could be broke, homeless, dead— and you’ll never know, waiting until the next time he stops by your apartment. You’re well-off, you could help him— he simply won’t let you.

And that’s what makes you mad.

But he never lets you be mad at him, because he apologizes. Well, never verbally, but with his fingers, with his lips, with his—

Knock knock knock.

Thanking the heavens that your filthy thoughts are stopped, you drag yourself out from under your soft blanket to the door. Toji towers over you, the shadow of a smile on his lips.

"What do you want?"

"Water."

"No." Your hand reaches to pull the handle, but Toji sticks his foot out.

"Hey, ya can’t let me die of thirst.”

“I’d kill you before that happens.”

He juts his bottom lip out, slightly furrowing his brows. Pouting. “Want me to beg? I can do that for ya.”

“Fucking hell.”

You push past him, rolling your eyes. You’re desperately trying to keep your anger at bay but it’s so difficult whenever Toji is around. The worst part is that he knows it too— the corner of his lip keeps twitching in amusement, his brilliant eyes glimmering as if he’s winning. Like this is some sort of game.

“Here.” You present him with a glass filled to the brim. He takes it with a “Thanks” before proceeding to down the entire thing in three gulps. Not that you were counting by looking at his adam’s apple, or the prominent veins of his neck, or the gentle scars—

“Hey.”

Too busy in your ogling, you didn’t realize that Toji had boxed you in with his hands against the counter. The smell of his sharp, sea-scented cologne holds you hostage, stilling your body, your mind—

“Toji…”

This is bad, this is bad. But, fuck, you can’t think anymore, not when his thick fingers drum against your hip, his other hand sliding up to rest on the base of your neck. His thumb sweeps against your soft skin, making you extremely aware of the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra under your sheer nightgown, that his finger is just a few inches away from your achingly sharp nipples.

“Hmm?” He hums, dipping his head into your neck, lips puckering to peck you right on your shoulder. He deeply inhales, taking in your sweet scent, the gentle smell of your skin. “I missed you.”

You pretend that his words don’t make your heart race. Glancing at the ceiling, you bite back your moans. “I didn’t.” You lie, voice slightly wavering.

Toji glances up with his eyes narrowed, calculating. “You didn’t?”

You shake your head deliberately, not trusting your voice. But Toji simply smiles, bending down to lift you up on the counter.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t ya?” He pushes your hips back further, forcing you to lay back. A gentle kiss is planted on your knee, bare from how your nightgown has shimmied up your thighs.

“I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

In, out. You have to focus on breathing because it’s getting terribly shallow, especially when Toji hasn’t even started. His teasing fingers push up your nightgown up to your waist, exposing your plain panties. Toji takes his time pulling the lace down too, smirking as you squirm.

His breath hovers against your thighs, a gentle heat that warms your insides. You shiver again, forcing Toji to hold you down by the insides of your thighs. The new position gives him an open view of your cunt, slick and pulsing.

“Didn’t miss me, huh? Your pussy says otherwise.”

“Toji, I swear to God—”

You can’t even finish your sentence because his tongue is prodding you open, pure sin flooding your nerves and forcing your back into an arch.

“Nghh!”

He feasts like a starved man, slurping and flicking his tongue messily, letting his spit mix in with your arousal. You feel debauched, corrupted by his vulgar actions, but you ignore the shame as you roll your hips into his face, letting your clit catch onto the point of his nose.

“‘M gonna cum.” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel the coil in your belly tighten a bit more. Toji squeezes his palms around your ass in encouragement, pressing you even closer to his face.

“Let me taste you, sweetheart. Come f’me.”

His lips latch onto your clit, and it’s the end of it. You gasp, nails desperately scratching against the counter as you ride out your orgasm, hips still twitching against Toji. He doesn’t let up either, tongue lapping up every drop of your nectar and forcing you into overstimulation.

“Ah, Toji, too much, s’ too much!”

Tears well your eyes, feet kicking out involuntarily, but Toji’s large palms wrap around your ankles. As he stands, he pulls you towards him, forcing you to straddle him.

His eyes are bright, a smug smirk tracing his slick lips. “Tell me you missed me.”

You pull down your brows, desperately trying to keep your fury in control. “Why would I miss you?”

He smiles now, teeth sparkling in the little flicker of moonlight that presses past your window. “Because…” For his answer, he glances down at where the two of you meet, your core right against him, wetting his trousers. When he looks back up, you can barely see the green in his eyes— his dark pupils are eating away at the color. Eating away at you.

You blush, cheeks flaring red. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“What does it mean, then?” Toji traces your bottom lip with his thumb, pulling it down the slightest before letting it pop back up. You don’t say anything, too absorbed in his motions.

His thumb pushes past your lips, resting heavily on your tongue. Without thinking, you suck it in, tasting him off. You swear you hear his breath stutter, eyes widen as he looks at your lush, glossy lips.

Before you know it, he’s sweeping you off the counter with ease, like you weigh nothing in his arms. His mouth distracts you, tongue prodding against your lips until you part them and let him in. He’s sweet— the slight taste of your arousal and the smell of him making you lightheaded. You’re terribly aware of his hands cupping and squeezing your ass as he guides you to your room, dropping you on your bed.

“You’re a bad liar, y’know that?” Toji leans back, pulling his shirt over his head. You know he’s flexing, and it should make you cringe and scoff… but beyond the new scarring across his chest that makes your stomach twist in worry, his taut pecs and defined biceps distract you in the best way possible.

“Your body can’t lie to me.” He yanks down his pants, cock bobbing in your peripheral vision as you force yourself to keep your eyes on his emerald voids. He crawls towards you— on top of you— thumb reaching out to mockingly brush the corner of your mouth. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re drooling.”

“‘M not.”

“Really? Well, you are down here.” His cock parts your folds, dragging up your wetness and letting the heaviness rest between your legs.

“Ah!”

“Admit it.” Toji coos, letting the head of his length catch onto your hole before pulling out. You squirm, whining, but he pins you down with his hands on your wrists.

“Please.”

It is said so low, so quiet that you aren’t completely sure if he even said it. You blink up at him, pushing away any anger you have toward him just for a second of clarity. Though Toji’s eyes still have that humorous glitter, you can see through him, noticing the hidden doubt and concern in the bags of his eyes, the wrinkles on his forehead, the fine droop of his lip.

He’s… worried.

And hell, if that doesn’t make your heart thrum faster than it already does around him.

“I always miss you.”

It’s true. You miss him during every moment of the day, hoping that today will be the day he stops by again, and just in case, you always make enough food for two. You miss him even when he’s there, because you know you’ll miss him even more when he leaves. You miss him the most when you roll over the covers and he’s not there, just his lingering scent reminding you that there’s nothing in the world that can preserve the feeling you have when you’re with him.

You hope he can hear all that through your minimal words because your throat is too clogged to say anything more. When he responds by caressing your cheek, his dick guiding into you, you’re sure he knows.

Your mouth widens into a silent gasp. It’s been too long.

“C’mon, breathe.” He hums as he pushes in, feeling slight guilt but mostly pride as he notices the moisture gathering on your lashes. “Atta girl. Tight fucking pussy.”

“T-Toji.” You whimper as his fingers roll against your clit, easing away the pain. “You’re so…”

“Big?” He teases, rolling his hips into you sharply. You can’t find it in you to chastise him because it’s true, he’s terribly big with the way that he’s splitting you in half. You pathetically nod as your nails embed themselves in his back, lifting your head to tuck yourself into the crease of his neck.

Every single thrust makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Toji’s warm palms keep your thighs spread, occasionally squeezing and slapping the fat of your thighs just to hear you squeal.

Toji throws his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his mouth. You watch how he tenses— a drop of sweat drips from the column of his neck and you follow it with your eyes as it drips down between his chest and torso, his lower stomach, before wetting his happy trail. God. You feel your toes curl as you clench around him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut as his thrusts stutter. “Do that again.”

To tease him, you do it in a succession of three. He gasps, his palm landing on your throat to squeeze you back. “Fucking hell.”

Toji pulls out. He snickers at your whine and your failed attempt to latch onto him, before flipping you over.

“Greedy little thing.” He laughs as he pushes in, reveling in the way your fingers fist at the sheets.

He’s going faster than he was before, balls smacking your ass hard enough to make a thwack-thwack echo around the room and change your cheeks into a crimson color.

“Toji.” Tears slide down to your pillow as you bury your head. “Gonna come. Need you…” You drift off, knowing that he knows. You should have known he’d be cocky about it.

“Need what?” His mouth hangs over your ear, teeth grazing the shell of it. “Don’t know what you want, sweetheart.”

When you don’t answer, he bites down.

“Fuck! Just… touch me.”

“Could’a just asked.” He huffs as his thumb and forefinger pinch at your clit, giving you the relief you need. “Go ahead.”

You feel your body tense, breath getting caught in your throat, along with a jumble of emotions. “Missed you—fuck, love you, s’much.” The knot in you unravels deliciously, euphoria hanging over your consciousness.

Meanwhile, Toji’s mind is whirring at your confession, hands tightening against your waist. “L-love you, shit.” He pushes into you one last time, fingers pressing into your skin to really remember this. He needs to know that you’re really here under his hands before he cums, for once not in his fist. Toji trembles, panting through his orgasm and falling right on top of you.

You can’t get a full breath in with Toji’s weight pressing against you, but you do nothing to move him. You feel suffocated in the best way possible— engulfed in his scent and warmth and love.

“Don’t leave.” You murmur against his bicep that curls against you in a tight hug.

“I won’t.”

You don’t care if it’s a lie because it’s enough to make you relax into him more. Tonight, you refuse to think about when he’s gone— you press a kiss to his cheek and giggle when he nips you back.

And when he leaves, you know he’ll come back.

masterlist || tip jar || taglist || help palestine

additional notes. i don’t wanna be too dramatic so i’ll try to keep it short, you guys probably have heard about this a million times whenever i answered asks, but sincerely not was supposed to be my last piece of writing on tumblr. i had such a terrible writing slump before i posted it and it came to a point where i wasn’t satisfied with all the content i’m putting out. i didn’t expect that sn would blow up, or let alone have such a loyal and supportive audience that now became the reason why i work hard every week to pump out long chapters. i sincerely can’t thank you guys enough for going through this 5-month journey with me. with more than 200k words, 20 chapters, and a community built because of this series, this is perhaps a work that i will cherish and remember for the rest of my life. thank you to each and everyone who stayed up all night reading this series, to those who always eagerly left comments and theories under every post or in my ask box, and to those who contributed amazing fanarts for this fic. from the bottom of my heart, thank you and i love you. - sincerely, saint ♡

3 YEARS LATER

“As you all know, three years ago, I lost control of this company.” Standing in front of the executives and the shareholders was Satoru Gojou in his three-piece Zegna suit. “The market cap suffered a significant decrease to eight billion less. Because of the scandals and mismanagement on my end, not only did many investors pull out, but we also lost some of our most brilliant employees who all have contributed to the company’s growth over the last twenty-five years.” With all eyes set on him, the tips of his fingers felt unusually cold, but he had to continue his talk by walking around the new faces that filled up the conference room. “I know what you’re all thinking: ‘Why is the Chairman talking about his sob story?’ After all, no one would have thought that a person like me could still save the Gojou Group from its massive decline. Many journalists even referred to it as a major corporation failure. When my company’s stock price bottomed out, many people took the chance to buy stocks dirt cheap and I was already foreseeing how long it would take for me to file for bankruptcy. I went through terrible depression, my health deteriorated, and my mind was in a dark period for a year after I got divorced, but I still did everything I could to salvage the only thing I had left. But how could I? Where do I begin? At the time, it was nothing but a hopeless and ambitious thought.”

Satoru stopped from his leisurely gait and placed a hand on top of his CFO’s shoulder. As he looked down at the blond with a grateful smile, he then proceeded to finish his speech, “To play this game or any game, you must have a good mentor. Mine was my colleague, Nanami Kento, who once told me that if my life crumbled apart after I lost my wife and my child, I should also think about my innocent employees whose lives would be far more affected if I didn’t do anything to save the company. He was right. I couldn’t possibly mope around and watch more people suffer from the difficulties I've caused. And so, I sought his advice and worked with him to rebuild the Gojou Group from ground zero.” Satoru turned on his heel as he finally arrived at the far end of the table. “Just like Nanami, you are all here because you’ve given me another chance at reconstructing the damages I had done. It was a tough three years and we’re still working to restore the company back to how it was, but I just wanna take this time to express my sincerest gratitude to each and every single one of you inside this room for inspiring me and allowing me the opportunity to rise up from the bottom. In return, I will ensure—as the Chairman of the Gojou Group—that you will all be generously rewarded for your dedication and hard work. Thank you.”

After the general shareholders meeting, Satoru was back in his office with his CFO and his secretarial staff who were seated on the couch to deal with schedules and paperwork while discussing the spontaneous speech he had just done at the meeting.

“What in the world was that?” Nanami asked, unfolding a newspaper before resting his back against the couch. “You made a speech like you were stepping down on your position.”

Satoru chose to sit at the edge of his office table as he took a sip from his coffee mug. “Why? Do you wanna be an interim CEO again?” His tone was playful, although remembering how difficult it must have been for Nanami to be in the highest executive position at such a desperate time. Back to the days when Satoru was mentally and emotionally incapable of making good business decisions, the Gojou Group and its twenty subsidiaries would have all collapsed if not for Nanami’s immediate action plans to keep the company intact as one of the nation’s largest conglomerate in terms of assets and the second largest in terms of sales.

That being said, the blond didn’t even hide his year-long exhaustion after becoming the company's major pillar of support. “Please. I’d rather retire early than have you punish me with that title ever again, interim or not.”

“Don’t say that, Nanami. We’re gonna have a really long loving relationship as Chairman and CEO-to-be, you know.” Satoru continued to tease and earned Nanami’s glare as a response, all before the former noticed his secretary who was chuckling at the sight. “I think Miwa has better time management when she’s reporting to you, anyway.”

The blue-haired girl was quick to deny. “Not true, Chairman!” said Miwa while arranging some papers on the coffee table. “I always handle my time perfectly well no matter who I’m reporting to.”

Undoubtedly. Even if he treated her like a robot sometimes, Satoru was lucky enough to have had the chance to see Miwa’s professional growth from the past three years that she had been his executive assistant. He would never in his life forget that this girl stayed by his side during the lowest period of his life. Her loyalty was what led her closer to him to the point where they grew a sibling-like connection. Although they maintained a professional superior-subordinate relationship, he was able to joke around with her while she was given the rare opportunity to speak to him informally at certain instances: one, when he needed a good scolding and two, whenever he was teasing her about Yuuta (but that was a story for another day).

“Let’s see… What if I reassign you to be Yuuta’s secretary one day?” Satoru grinned in mischief as he set the coffee mug down. “He’ll be graduating next year and I’ll appoint him as the Vice President once he returns to Japan.”

Instead of Miwa whose cheeks were suffused with a pink tint, it was Nanami who immediately reacted in surprise. “You’re really gonna train him for the position as soon as he comes back?”

“Yeah.” Satoru offered a nod before signaling his secretary to reach for the special suit she carefully hung on his rack this morning. “He looks forward to it. He’s smart, responsible, and analytical, so you won’t have a hard time mentoring him.”

The man exhaled deeply, languid as he flipped the pages of his newspaper. “Why do you always leave the job to me?”

“Because you’re the best, Nanami~! Take it as a compliment.”

“I don’t need compliments, I want a Bugatti in return,” he made a quick bargain, “a mansion in Aoyama and a one-year vacation leave to Kuantan, Malaysia with no texts, calls, and emails from you.”

Satoru was better off as a statue after hearing his CFO’s offer. “And that’s what I call a good businessman!” He gave him a well-deserved clap and turned to his secretary in haste, “Miwa, take note. This kind of brazenness is something I wanna see from you.”

The girl simply laughed at the good-humored exchange between Nanami and Satoru while she held the expensive suit in front of the latter. As if she had read his mind, Miwa suddenly asked, “Are you really going to… do that today, sir?”

It would be nice to blame the air conditioner for the sudden thickness in density. Not even ten seconds had passed and the mood swiftly changed into something more sullen, more gloomy. As Gojou took off his Zegna coat and unfastened his cufflinks, his gaze fell down on the visible scar on his forearm. Once a deep gash that required multiple stitches, now a reminder of that cold December night where blood and glass shards surrounded him as he sobbed his heart out in his mother’s arms.

He could ask Miwa’s questions to himself and only one answer would come out each time. “I have to.”

“Want me to go with you?” offered Nanami out of genuine concern. “I can reschedule my meeting with the finance department.”

Satoru, despite being genuinely appreciative of their concern, did not muster enough courage for the past two months anticipating this day just to back out at the last minute. “No, I got it.” That was all he had to tell Nanami and Miwa before he changed into the classic Givenchy tuxedo that was gifted to him three years ago. “Take care of everyone here while I’m gone.”

Gojou could barely remember what the atmosphere was like on his own wedding day. Because it was rushed and planned by everyone else except the bride and groom themselves, he didn’t have a great archive of memories relating to that special day that ultimately changed his life. Frankly, he was fairly busy with the company back then so he didn’t have much time to participate with the whole wedding preparation, leaving the designers and wedding planners to be the ones who visited him in the office just to remind him that he was going to become a married man. His distaste towards the forced marriage doubled his anger towards an innocent bride that later became a vital part of his life.

Many people asked him this: would Gojou consider getting married again? His answer would depend on the person. The answer, among many options, was only one particular woman with a selfless heart and an altruistic soul. Satoru couldn’t think of getting married to anyone else other than his soulmate whom he had promised a wedding to back when they were six. His childhood friend who had spent his birthdays with him just before they grew apart. His other half whom he had shared the most memories with from then and now. The lover, the wife, the mother of his child.

His one and only.

In an alternate universe, he had the option to restart his life back from where it all began. On the wedding day, where white primroses adorned the trellises, where satin linens complemented the dome of cloudless skies, where elaborate details and enchanting décor ignored the idea of ‘less is more’. But no matter how grandiose the setup was—whether it was whimsical or glamorous or traditional, in his previous life, he had forgotten the true essence of his own wedding—it was being united with his partner in life.

Beyond everything, marriage was a sacred bond between a husband and his wife.

The reminiscence of being surrounded by wedding decorations was déjà vu for Satoru who had not paid the slightest bit of attention to it three years ago. Or did he? Because with the way he recalled the tiniest details of his first wedding, it looked like he did pay a significant amount of recognition to the special day as much as he initially thought. The redolence of jasmine added to his nostalgia as he continued to walk like a ghost along the pathway where the wedding planners were passing left and right. They were oblivious to the man with white hair in a black tuxedo, concealed by a face mask while keeping himself unseen by blending amongst the low number of guests who had just arrived. The French baroque cathedral boasted of timeless elegance and one look at the ceiling gave him a breathtaking view of the magnificent Rococo art. Didn’t he get married in a garden? The decorations were either just black, ivory, and champagne not apricot and periwinkle blue. Right, Gojou remembered. Every stark difference was screaming to be remembered. The color palette, the theme, the flowers, and even the venue.

This wasn’t an alternate universe nor was this his own wedding.

This simple and yet sophisticated church wedding was his Earth-shattering reality to serve as a reminder that the tragedy was in his romance book, not yours.

With over seven billion people around the world, he was granted with only one person that had been his supposed life-long partner. Unfortunately, life could no longer offer him a rewind after everything that happened. He didn’t have a free pass to travel back through time to rewrite his past. Just like the ugly scars on his forearm, some things just never fade. What he had for himself was the future—the chance to be a better man without the expectations from a yearned woman. A closure, not to accept his defeat, but more so to prove his eternal love.

Not many guests were familiar to him except for your cousins and the groom’s immediate family. The wedding in itself was an intimate setup, seemingly only for those who were dear to the wedded couple-to-be. It was a great contrast to your first glamorous wedding where almost every famous personality was invited amongst the swarm of influential businessmen. In this wedding, attention was not being waved at his face because the primary focus was the ceremony that would soon unify a man and a woman as one.

He wasn’t even invited, so why the hell was Satoru Gojou in here?

Thankfully, no one had really noticed him as he managed to escape from any unwanted attention by sneaking close to the walls until he finally reached one of the exits that headed towards the back. There was a pavilion just a couple of steps away from the church where they kept the bride before the actual ceremony would begin. Needless to say, Satoru’s blood had drained from his face as soon as one of the notable bridesmaids walked out of the door.

“Ieiri.” Gojou took off his face mask and noticed how his voice had become unstable. “Where’s she—”

“Inside,” replied Shoko, pointing towards the room. “She’s with her friend, but it should be fine. Gen went to see their father. Did anyone see you?”

“No, I don’t think so.” His heart was pounding on his chest. His head, pulsating. Air was luxury for him to breathe at this moment when he thought of the man he would become once his eyes were set on you again three years after you left.

Ieiri must have felt his temperature rising (or falling in that sense) because cold sweats started forming on his temples, but not until she snapped her fingers in front of his face to wake him up from his trance. “Hey, it’s okay.” A couple pats on the back lessened Gojou’s tension. “You can do it. This is your last chance.”

They said during moments of panic, it was normal for a person to feel numb. Everything was in slow motion and very few sounds were picked up by the ears as all the unnecessary hubbub would be blocked out. While he tried to reach for the doorknob, Satoru’s hand was visibly shaking due the accumulation of anxiety that he never realized had built up upon coming here. His nerves were like seismic waves forming ripples on a pond. What was he scared of? He had gone through so much alone for the last three years, but even so, this day might be the summit of his pain. It would mark as the highest point in his mountain of broken heart and eternal loneliness.

It was different in his head than when he actually opened the door and stepped inside the room. A girl with dark hair in a half-updo was smiling at you from the mirror as you two were unaware of the new presence that had entered the room. Even from afar, even when he could only see your side profile, Gojou had already fallen weak on the knees. A wave of strong emotions washed over his body as he saw the very woman that he loved and still undeniably did.

“…Y/N.”

When had he last called you by your name?

To him, the name that rolled off his tongue had also sparked a flame to his heart. To you, on the other hand, the voice that called it out was nothing more than a stranger from the past that you wanted so badly to erase. He could see it in your eyes with how they widened in shock, leaning on the negative scale more than the positive as you hastily got up from your seat. “W-What are you doing here?”

The girl who stood by your side kept a guarded stance while she mumbled, “Y/N, should I call for Toji?”

“No need.” Satoru blinked thrice in the same second and shook his head. “He knows I’m here. He…” trailing off, he drew in a deep breath, “He told me to see you before the ceremony.”

It happened a week ago when Gojou found out you came back to Tokyo after three long years. He heard rumors about you dating Toji, but he never really thought your bond was deep enough to lead to another marital union. Wasn’t it such a cruel fate? Someone who was once his bride, was now someone else’s.

As hard as it was for Satoru to swallow, he knew that Toji Zen’in must love you a lot and he wasn’t even surprised that you ended up with his rival after all the things that had happened. Not many guys would allow an ex-husband a chance to meet his bride on the wedding day just for the sake of closure. But you see, your groom respected you and trusted you and cared for you enough to understand that this was something you and Satoru had to have. A private moment to conclude the relationship that scarred both you and him, which could possibly cause complications in any of your future marriages if not resolved. There was no harm in having this much needed conversation, especially since three years had gone by and you were close to strangers at this point. Or at least, he was to you. Any feelings you once harbored for him were completely gone like how the same gleam that used to shine for him was now empty.

You must have realized that fearing Satoru Gojou would not help you in the long run, so you ended up allowing him inside before you turned to your friend. “Utahime,” you spoke to her calmly, “can you excuse us for a while?”

From the corner of his eyes, Satoru noticed how the woman with the gentle face glanced at his way before she decided to trust your words and subsequently made her exit. With the door shut in a 33-square meter room, it didn't seem as if the distance between you and him was there. Not when he had become too enamored of your ethereal beauty to a point where he couldn’t breathe.

And he had to swallow. Hard. Because you were so goddamn beautiful that his eyes were filling up with tears. Are you real? The pain he felt sure was. Are you really in front of him? He scanned every inch of your face and remembered how he used to wake up staring at those eyes each morning, how he used to touch those cheeks, how he used to kiss those very lips. He never had the chance to appreciate you back on your own wedding day and his greatest regret in life was not telling you how breathtakingly regal you looked in a wedding dress. Forget the swarovski crystals that hugged your figure or the natural make-up that enhanced your features—Satoru believed that no other woman could beat your grace and elegance in his eyes even if you were wearing a simple white dress with a bare face.

You aged three years older after you last saw each other, but the most fascinating part of it was seeing you in the best version of yourself. Not a trace of heartbreak. Not a hint of loneliness. There was that certain class and maturity that made him fall in love with you all over again.

“You look beautiful,” he meant to say it aloud despite the clench it caused his heart because he had to let you know no matter how shameless. “I know I never got to tell you this before, but… this, this is also how beautiful you looked on our wedding day.”

You watched him take a deep breath as if he was the rightful groom who was star-struck at the sight of his bride. “You never even looked at me on our wedding day.”

“I did, I know I did…” He stared at you in pining melancholy. Did Gojou imagine having this casual talk with an ex-lover? He was afraid that this might be the calm before the storm. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I-I don’t intend to stay throughout the ceremony today.”

“So, what are you here for?”

“…”

“Satoru.”

“I just think that, maybe…”

With a distant gaze, your impatience led you to go straight to the point. “We’ve been divorced longer than we have married, Gojou.” But what hurt more was the way you avoided meeting his eyes. “If you have nothing important to talk about, save it. If you’re here to congratulate me, thanks. I hope you find someone else to marry, too—”

“Why did you let go?”

The sudden question rendered you speechless, so much that you almost sympathized from the guilt and agony that casted your ex-husband’s face. Satoru had been suffering for three long years thinking of the picture perfect family that he had lost and all of those unwanted memories during his darkest days were now swallowing him in whole. They were burying him six feet under and pulling him back into that abyss of torment that he thought he had already escaped. It was endless, bottomless, complete darkness.

But even with the obvious pain in his visage, you couldn’t find the right words to answer. He had to be the one to clarify it further. “Our baby,” his voice broke and his words took him back to that sorrowful day at the hospital, “I wanna know why you let go. I-I don’t understand why you did it.”

“You know why.” Tears were threatening to spill from your shiny eyes. “Don’t bring it back. I don’t wanna talk about it right now.”

It hurt. It hurt so much that he wanted to hug you, but couldn’t. That he wanted to wipe your cheeks, but couldn’t. That he wanted to kiss your forehead, pull you into his arms, hold you close. It hurt how much he longed for you day and night for the past 1,095 days, hoping that you would come back to him and be his wife again. How foolish. This woman in front of him wasn’t the same one he married for that woman had given up on him, but him—he never once gave up on you. He kept holding on like you were the last buoy keeping him afloat in the vast sea. “I messaged y-you nonstop.” His breathing hitched as a sob rose in his throat. “I sent you hundreds of voice mails even if you had me blocked everywhere. I followed you to New York and tried to search every corner of it for you, b-but I was told to leave you alone. In the end, I had to leave you alone and give you space, because I didn’t want you to hate me more than you already do. Do you know how it feels to be… to be abandoned by someone you love, and three years later that person comes back only to marry someone else?”

Out of the many things Gojou learned from his therapist: you can never suppress sadness. It always managed to seep out and the best way to handle it was to release such a heavy emotion out of the bottle. His face was already a screaming sign of Fragile: Handle With Care. But if anyone were to break him, the privilege was yours.

“Satoru, we never should have married in the first place,” you argued, eyes glistening with similar blues as you looked up at him, “We were doomed from the beginning because that marriage was never genuine. Stop holding on to me like I’m more than just a key to your personal goals.”

“Y/N, I love you…” At this point, he couldn’t stop the waterfall that gushed out of his eyes, emptying his sockets until he could no longer cry. His voice was thick with tears, his words were strangled in his throat. “I love you, I cherish you. I still do. I still fucking do and I’m so miserable without you. Don’t say that I was never genuine when I truthfully fell in love with you.”

You refused his words and swallowed the pity forming at the back of your throat. “No, you fell in love with the idea of me. You fell in love with the idea of having your own happy family regardless of the person you wanted to share it with.”

Satoru attempted to reach for your arm, but felt wrong for having tried because his cold hand didn’t deserve to touch your sacred warmth. “That’s not true.”

“I’m not your wife anymore.” Your reminder served numerous stabs in his hollow heart. “Gojou, you need to move on and live your life without me. You’re young, you’re single, you can easily go back to the way you were before you were ever married. You can even forget our marriage happened. Just please… Please find your happiness elsewhere.”

“I don’t… I don’t wanna forget.”

He came here promising himself that he was only going to apologize and clarify his intentions, it was never part of his plan to be a sobbing mess in front of you while begging for the love he had taken for granted. He wanted his wife back. He wanted Y/N Gojou to accept him again and give him another chance to be a better husband. But that was not the agreement he had with Toji when he allowed him to have this talk with you. Gojou had to remind himself not to steer away from his original path and respect the boundaries that were set in order to live a guiltless life. He ought not to be selfish, but more selfless because that was something he learned from you.

And in saying that, his only option for you to achieve your peace and true felicity was to let you go. Like setting a dove free from a bird cage, spreading its wings into open air before flying away—you had to have that freedom without a pathetic ex-husband clinging on to you. All he ever brought you was misery and heartache, so the best way to repent for his sins was to cut the thin string that kept you tied to him.

“Do you love him?” he asked once and for all, even though it shattered him inside, even though it squeezed his heart and every artery. Layers of unsettling emotions overcame him as the thought of you marrying someone else, having a family with someone else, doing the things you did with him to someone else—absolutely, agonizingly wrecked him. “Will you be happy if you married him?”

Along with your modestly downcast eyes, you took the chance to dodge the direction of his desolate gaze. “Probably so much more than when I married you.”

Who knew that an honest answer could make one’s world crumble into ashes?

In every sad song, sad movie, or sad novel there was, Gojou believed that his tragedy could sell billions of copies because there was nothing more satisfying than reading a story about how the man who once had it all, in the end lost it all.

As for you, your immediate thought was to turn away, searching through your jewelry box on the table before taking out the very last piece that connected you to him.

Your wedding ring.

The same ring he was still wearing to this day.

“Satoru, I loved you.” Your words flew past your mulberry lips as you reached for his hand. Throughout your marriage, it was for the first time he ever heard you say those three words. Three words that were now in the past just like the ring that you placed on his palm. “If you ever wanted to hear it, I did love you. I loved you so much that I stayed that long because I wanted us to work. I love you enough that I want you to be happy, even if we’re no longer together.” Gojou’s eyes were the loneliest shade of blue as he felt your thumb running across his cheek. “For the eleven months and twenty-two days we were married, all I did was to try and fix you. Now let me fix me.”

Didn’t you know? When you were in love, your voice was always the calmest. Your eyes, the dreamiest. Your face, the softest. It was a slapping contrast to the loom of darkness that swept over your ex-husband’s face—the man you once loved and was bound to by vows. But if his sorrow meant that you would find your joy, then he was ready to have his heart broken over and over again by the one person he loved the most. You.

Words needn’t be said. He accepted the ring you returned with a great wretch of sadness, keeping it safe in his own hand like he was holding onto a person in the form of a gold wedding band. In an hour or so, another ring would adorn your finger and it would be much more beautiful than the one you previously had from an ex-husband that you easily forgot about.

Your love story ended here.

On the first day of spring, where flowers bloom to signal the start of your new beginning. The radiant woman he loved the most would start a new chapter in life with someone else. And unlike you, Satoru was stuck in his cold, winter sorrows. There were no four seasons in his calendar for his days remained in the coldest months of the year because his source of sunlight found another world to shine on.

“I have to go.” The soles of his feet wanted to stay, but he couldn’t linger around any longer than he should’ve. What last words would he have to say to his ex-wife? ‘Have a happy marriage’? When that, in fact, was a form of self-punishment. But on a similar note, he felt the longing in your eyes and it allowed him to wish for nothing but the best for you. “I know he’s gonna take care of you, but… just in case,” he trailed off, forcing an upward curve on his lips, “I hope he kisses you every morning when he wakes up.”

“Satoru…”

His words were surprisingly cathartic. “I hope he’ll call you beautiful each day, stroke your hair when you lie on his lap, take you out on movie nights and spontaneous dates.” To make it more lighthearted and less dramatic, he added a few happy memories. “I hope he won’t drink straight off the milk carton or forget to turn the lampshade off at night. You deserve to be with someone who lets you spend pink toilet papers and expensive skin care masks on his credit card. Someone who stares at you in your sleep, thanking God for blessing him with a wife like you.”

Your lips quivered, eyes achingly staring at his.

Gojou ignored the weakness gnawing his chest and offered a smile that may have a million meanings, but truly only translated to one: I’m happy when you are. And so, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead. It was a harmless, unassuming kiss to let you know that he would always care for you the same. “I love you.”

Hesitance then bathed your eyes as he pulled away. Was that guilt in your gaze? Or was it pity? Either way, you squeezed his hand and opened your mouth reluctantly. “Wait, I… There’s something you need to know.”

At the rate of your growing anxiety, Satoru decided for himself that today was not the day for you to deal with it. He may have been selfish all his life, but he didn’t want to ruin your wedding for his sake. With the Zen’ins was where you belong. After all, they were a family void of drama or any ulterior motives that could break your trust in the long run. That was the household you deserved to be in.

“Will I be crying on my knees if I did know?”

You held your breath. “Maybe.”

“Will it fix us?”

“I don’t think so.”

Knowing a disappointing truth was better than wondering forever. But in that moment where palpable silence became one of his biggest fears, he decided that the less he knew, the better. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it,” he assured, backing away and learning the art of letting go, “I should head out.”

“…Okay.”

His cue to leave was your sudden sympathetic gaze. His signal to turn around and step out of the room was the fact that he despised seeing sympathy in your eyes because it made him yearn and seek for your love. He didn’t need your sympathy, he needed you. It was a dangerous zone that he ought to avoid or else there was no going back.

The only way was forward.

Walking through the hallways alone gave him a newfound sense of catharsis. Although the other half of his soul remained with you, lovers didn’t necessarily have to be soulmates. They came in different shapes and forms, be it with a childhood friend, a past lover, an ex-wife. He was content for not sticking to his brand of selfishness which cost him a wife and a child in return.

Fate must be playing with him, because just as he turned to the corner of the hallway, he stumbled upon a little boy with white hair who was hiding his face against the wall.

Could it be…?

Stopping in his tracks, his eyes widened and brimmed with tears. He must be imagining this whole thing. He must be hallucinating. Why did his chest hurt this badly? Why did the atmosphere suddenly make him feel queasy? He felt sick to the bones after remembering the depressive episodes he went through because of his unborn child. The pain he suffered from his loss was more than a person could take. And now, this…

“‘Gumi!” The giggling kid ran past Satoru to meet Toji’s teenage son who immediately carried the little boy in his arms.

“There you are,” Megumi spoke to the child with a rare smile on his face, “You’re not supposed to show yourself when you play hide and seek.”

Satoru’s heartbeat quickened exponentially. His pulse was thumping with a heavy beat. It wasn’t until Megumi saw his figure down the hallway when the dark-haired boy became nonplussed. He knew what the older guy was thinking, and he didn’t seem to know how to react to it.

The little boy with similar white hair was facing away, so Gojou was yet to see if the kid looked like a splitting image of him to confirm his questions. He was already shell shocked and he would probably break down had he learned that the child was indeed his.

But seemingly hearing Satoru’s trail of thought, Megumi took the chance to keep the little boy away. “Come on, let’s go see your mom.”

“Mama?” The kid turned around, noticing Satoru’s presence as the person who carried him walked further and further away. Each growing distance did not do anything to melt the block of ice he had become. Frozen as he stood there, eyes wide at the sight of the child with white hair and baby blue eyes.

This couldn’t be real.

At the beginning of spring, the sky was crying and so was he. You were moving into new spheres, but this heart of his could love so infinitely that everything becomes muted. His heart could love so blindly that everything you do merited its forgiveness. It was unimaginable for anyone who actually cared to understand the gravity that had fallen on Satoru as he rushed into the parking lot. In a daze, lost in his own thoughts while putting the missing puzzle pieces together.

Three years in New York City.

Had he been deprived of a child that he believed hadn’t been born at all?

He was searching through his many antidepressants in the glove compartment of his car. Satoru had been so full of anxiety for this day that he missed taking a couple of pills that he strictly had to take to aid his severe depressive episodes—one of which was about to happen in a few. That child of his could have been a hallucination after all. His mind liked to play tricks on him ever since his mental state went on a downward slope. It wasn’t your fault nor anyone else’s.

It was his.

The onus was always on him. The blame, the criticism, the hatred even to himself. While the wedding was on going, Satoru was in his car crying silently to himself with his head on the steering wheel as his saddest thoughts haunted him. He could easily walk out of the car, crash your wedding, and perhaps confirm if that child was not just a fragment of his imagination.

But what scared him the most was getting a confirmation that you did hide his child for three years without telling him. Why did that scare him, you wonder? Because it meant that he would have to hate you again. It meant that he had to feel strong hostility towards you, when that feeling was the last thing he ever wanted to feel for his own wife.

During his lowest moments, the person he ran to was also the person who once ran away from him. You weren’t aware, but his mom never once left his side at times where the world felt hopeless. Or when breathing felt like luxury than a need. Or when simply existing felt like an undeserved privilege. She stayed and nurtured him to make sure that he wasn’t alone as much as he believed. It was her duty as a mother to care for her child. The only person who truly understood his never-ending pain.

“Mom.” One minute he was crying soundlessly in his car, the next he was on his phone choking a sob. “Mom, I-I can’t do this alone.”

“Satoru? What’s wrong, honey?” Worry laced her voice on the other end of the line. “Where are you?”

His chest rose and fell heavily. “I w-wanna wake up from this nightmare. I wanna wake up next to her.”

“Where are you?” His mother repeated her question with her anxiety increasing tenfold. It was one of ‘those days’. Those terrible, dark days where the other side was whispering in her son’s ear, tempting him to escape this world in his own hands. “Did you go to her wedding? My son…”

Gojou released a sigh, but it sounded more like a plea for help. His eyes were bloodshot and forlorn as he stared at the ceiling of his car. “I saw her and she looked beautiful. Sh-She’s happier, she’s… she’s… Mom, I love her.”

“I’m coming to pick you up.” He could tell his mother was tearing up. “Stay where you are, Satoru. I’ll be there as soon as I can—”

“We have a child,” he spilled out of the blue and the way it flew past his lips only brought a burning ache in his chest. “Our son, he looked j-just like me.” He pictured it all out in his head—how his son would look sleeping in your arms, how his son would run towards his stepfather each time he came home, how his son would look at Satoru Gojou without recognizing him as the father who anticipated his birth with such excitement five months into your pregnancy. “I have a son and he doesn’t know me.”

Deafening silence took over his mother, though it didn’t last long until she spoke in a careful voice. “What are you planning?”

There was no handbook on what to do after finding out that your ex-wife faked her abortion all along. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to yell the nastiest profanities for the absolute fool he was seen as, and yet everything he would do would just be futile at this point. He was already having difficulty in processing the idea of your marriage with someone else, much less a child with you. Instead of fighting for the family he lost, he felt like he actually just lose a hundred battles more.

He had to think. Think, away from this place, away from the wedding that was happening inside the cathedral. He needed to clear his mind and figure it all out on his own. For one, was he supposed to pretend that nothing happened? Were you supposed to hide the child from him forever? Were you going to let another man be a father figure to a child who looked exactly like the husband you escaped from?

In a minute, Satoru revved his engine and accelerated the car past forty. He hit sixty when he drove through the street, then he hit a hundred when he reached the freeway. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and drove with blithe disregard for the rules of the road as tears blurred his vision. But maybe, instead of finding a way on how his presence could contribute properly to an ex-wife and a long lost child, he had to choose the easier option—to disappear. Because for all its worth, he wasn’t needed anymore. You managed three years without him, and you could manage fifty more years without him.

His little boy could continue his life not recognizing his shameless father who cheated on his mother, neglected her, ruined her. He was a bad influence and that was solid proof that Satoru could have never been a great dad as much as he liked to believe.

Though, for one reason, you were wrong. As he stomped his foot on the gas pedal, he remembered your words from earlier, ‘you fell in love with the idea of having your own happy family regardless of the person you wanted to share it with’. He didn’t want that family with anyone else but you. That mansion he purchased wasn’t meant for Sera, but for a home he pictured out with a woman he would marry and have dozens of children with. He wasn’t given a chance at explaining himself nor was his voice heard when he tried to beg for forgiveness. You didn’t owe him one, but it broke him to know that because of that miscommunication, your love couldn’t be fulfilled in this lifetime.

This was a world where he was and would always be alone.

Reaching for his pocket, he took out the ring you returned to him and placed it between his fingers, reminding himself of a piece of you that he could still hold onto.

Other than the ring, he also had memories of both good and bad. The wedding day, Iceland, the auction, the morning after his father’s birthday, Bora Bora, Nana’s death, finding out you were pregnant, knowing you had stable angina, that sunset in the yacht, Eula going to jail, him losing everything including you. If any author decided to write about him one day, Satoru hoped that people could learn from his tragedy and value their marriage before it was too late.

Wasn’t it pathetic how he barely remembered everything he had done for the past three years except for those moments with you?

His phone rang wildly from the cup holder as his mom ceaselessly called him. But before he could manage to reach for the gadget, he failed to hit the brakes when the traffic lights turned red. Another blinding light greeted him in slow motion—he realized that the lights were from another car. A much bigger vehicle was speeding towards him when the corner of his eyes saw it from a split second and it was all too late when he tried to steer himself away given the car’s screeching sound, the cacophony of horns echoing left and right, and the tires skidding on the pavement. The collision happened faster than his mind could take. Although his ears picked up the sound of a glass shattering, his eyes didn’t capture the sight of the vehicle that led him to a fatal crash.

There was no deus ex machina to save him from the accident and neither were there flashbacks of his life from childhood until now. There was only darkness that pulled him in and embraced his soul into that empty, inescapable void.

On your second wedding, you expected that things would be easier this time around.

It took you three years to rebuild yourself to be the strong, independent woman that you were now. The process was a difficult path and you could admit that many times, you wished that you didn’t have to go through all of it alone. Being a single mother and studying fashion at the same time was a tough journey, but also the best decision you had made in your life. You learned how to love yourself, along with your son who grew up to be a very sweet kid, while understanding what your real worth should be in a society where being a divorcée at age twenty-eight was considerably acceptable.

You had your father and Gen’s support while raising your son in a country minus the spotlight from the media that could have caused you more stress three years ago. You hoped Satoru could understand. You just wanted to raise your baby in an environment without all the negative energy that surrounded him and your past marriage. So even if he would end up hating you now, you only ever wanted to prioritize your child. Your decision not to tell him was because you no longer had any connections as husband and wife soon as you divorced. Keeping the baby back then could mean that it would be harder for Satoru to let go, so despite having heard his heartbreaking screams that day in the hospital, you had to act on the advice that your father and sister gave you which was to finally put an end to your arranged marriage.

Besides, you were still blessed with a respectable man who had been there for you through thick and thin. A man you would soon lock eyes with once the towering doors by the vestibule was finally opened.

But at the thought of marriage, you suddenly remembered your first husband. You were foolishly thinking of Satoru Gojou at a wedding with a different man. Your trembling fingers matched the increased pace in your heart, just as much as how you blinked through the sting in your eyes. You realized that you were blinking tears until the wooden doors swung open to welcome you into another marital union that once put you through hell.

There they were, awaiting for you to walk down the aisle in your glamorous bejeweled gown. You saw your small audience of families and friends smiling at you as they eyed you with admiration. You saw Toji Zen’in at the far end of the aisle, handsome and perfect in his classic tuxedo while anticipating his status as a married-to-be.

With all eyes on you, you slowly made your way across the aisle, but each step was suffocating. The thought of going through marriage—hoping that it would be perfect only to be crushed by reality in the end—scared you. You didn’t realize that you had developed trauma with weddings all because of a certain white-haired male who altered your vision of what marriages were supposed to be.

Three steps.

Could you really do this again? Could you become someone’s wife and be locked under the vows of marriage for better and for worse?

Two steps.

Could you really offer yourself with wholehearted devotion towards a man who could end up ruining your trust once more?

One step.

The loud thumping of your heart was the answer: maybe you could. For Toji. For the love you deserved. For the marriage you always dreamed of.

But although you concluded with that answer, your hand lost grip on the flower bouquet as you saw another future as a wife back to square one.

“Call the ambulance! 911! Somebody help!”

“Sir, please stay with me.”

The light came back to him while he was sandwiched between the cold dirt and the hot metal of the car. The heavy weight of the vehicle was pressing down on him and keeping him paralyzed amongst the broken shards of glass. No voice escaped his hoarse throat, but he could feel blood dripping on the side of his head where a throbbing sensation had just started to grow.

Yet all in all, he was numb.

He couldn’t move his hand, couldn’t see beyond the confines of his car, couldn’t breathe more oxygen that his lungs needed—all his mind could process was the thought of you. Right when the shiny gold ring was within arm’s reach on the concrete floor, Satoru lifted his broken arm up just to hold onto that one piece of memory he had of you.

He wasn’t certain if he was only waiting for death or something much worse, but at the rate of the excruciating pain that his brain was giving him, he knew one way or another that he would lose a part of himself from hereafter.

But he hoped to every saint that he wouldn’t lose that part of him that loved you.

That Satoru who first fell in love with you at the age of six, got married to you at the age of twenty-five, and still loved you at the age of twenty-eight was the version of him that he wished not to lose.

He was an antagonist in his own tragic story and was merely a plot device to set up conflicts, obstacles, and challenges for the protagonist. Although in most fairytales, the main characters were granted a happily ever after, you and him were given an inevitable twist of fate.

Perhaps this was the end. Or perhaps it wasn’t.

Sometimes the end wasn’t really the end.

After all, this was a universe where he was a character with unmistakable flaws that could not be redeemed. While that may be true, he hoped that you wouldn’t forget that at a certain point, he was truthfully, unselfishly in love with you.

That in this universe and in all other parallel universes, he was and would always be sincerely yours.

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