Destroy what destroys you

All that you knew? 'Annoying' didn't even scratch the surface when it came to pretty bitch boy and his beloved competitive asshole.

But now? You could finally focus on guys that weren't the bane of your existence. Like a certain red-head chatting you up at the drink table. Tall, really tall, big, with the kind of stoicism that made the slight smirk on his sharp face all the more exciting.

"Ah, you're not from around here. Thought as much," the guy, 'Kuna' ( as some drunk girl previously hanging on his arm giggled ), peered over his red cup at you. "Wouldn't forget such a pretty face."

"Mhhm, and how many girls do you pull that on?" It's your turn to smile into your cup as you propped yourself back on the counter. Like a prize to be won. With your mini skirt squeezing around your thighs and confidence in each inch of your stiletto heels.

"Only the ones that catch my attention." He mused. His head curved and his eyes did little to hide their predatory swipe. "And it seems like someone likes attention."

Oh, you were greedy for it.

Brought up in a conservative home where your mother measured your skirt to knee ratio with two fingers? Maybe freedom was also in his eyes. It swirled in the scarlet of them. A threat and a promise all the same. It never tasted sweeter.

Alas, your wings were clipped with a familiar weight strung over your shoulders. Sandalwood engulfed your senses and strangled freedom's breeze. Your gaze froze.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Bitch boy alert. Suguru Geto; the image of rebellion itself. With his ripped black trousers, heavy boots, silvers piercings and chains galore— he smudged your freedom like his eyeliner.

"Kinda late to be out isn't it?" His arm's weight was a feather compared to his stare.

You spluttered. "Geto," as if last names could save you. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Could be asking you the same thing. What're you doing on my campus?"

Shit. Had your excitement to run wild blinded your common sense? This was Suguru's college. You know. The one he and the other brat attend with your brother?

"And who's this guy?" He barely blinked. 'Kuna' did several.

"Thought you'd remember me, Sug—"

"I wasn't talking to you." Suguru's gaze sliced with his words. Sharp, concise, like that damned serene smile on his pierced lips. "And it's Geto, to you. Don't you know who this girl is?"

His fingers curled on your shoulder. There's that cage again. You ignored the flutters his touch pooled in your stomach. A golden cage was still a cage. Who gave him the right to play protective? He wasn't Nanami. And he sure as hell wasn't your friend.

Your shoulders jutted back and you writhed from the heaviness of his preformative protection. "Could you get lost? I didn't ask for your—"

Embarrassment's heat turned wet. All over your blouse. Soaking your skin with the bitter taste you specifically avoided tonight. The cheap booze curled your nose more than the anger.

"Whoops! Sorry there," and in comes the arrogant asshole. With a knock to your shoulder and half his cup across your shirt. His shades hung infuriatingly low on his nose. What the hell does he need glasses for at night?

"What's your problem!?" You jerked around to Satoru who caught your irritation with his signature grin. One that ticked off the gods.

Eyes deeper than the ocean and with all its roaring confidence batted at you almost innocently. "Woah— what're you doing here?"He swiped across the room, no so discreetly glared at Sukuna, then gaped at you again.

"If Kenny sees ya he's gonna freak."

Were you sure it was water in your cup? Suddenly the world's spinning and you're getting auditory illusions. Did Satoru just say that Kento would be here? Nanami Kento. Your stuck-up, straight-spined, strict-stared brother, here, at a college party? You laughed despite yourself.

"Ken? Here?" You pointed an irritated grin his way to hide the nervous twitch in your eye. "Tell me another joke."

"You're right, that blonde hair poking out like a sore thumb looks like quite the joke," Suguru jabbed a finger back and you followed in haste. Sure enough, your brother sat poised across the room. Bored and tight-lipped as an overly smiley woman beside him brushed her hand over his shoulder.

You subconsciously scampered behind Satoru's figure. Tall fucker would hide you like a tree away from your brother's death stare— but not from the bastard's smug one. "Aww, scared?" He crooned.

Embarrassment stained your face and you swivelled to make sure Sukuna wasn't watching. No dice. That red head of hair was already halfway across the floor and chatting up the next sweet thing he could find. Damnit. So much for a fun night.

Instead you're stuck with two grinning jerks, a squeeze of rejection and a dash of paranoia. Great, you love your freedom served with a side of cold nostalgia.

"I hate you both." You murmured. Clipped but thinner than you intended. All you're flashed was teeth.

"Sure you should hate the guys getting you out of this mess?" Satoru spun around. "Our dorm's not too far. Sure I have something to get you out of this," he pinched on damp fabric and you swatted his hand away.

Going back to their dorm? Thing one and thing two? Suicide really. But with one last worried glance at Kento, you chose the lesser evil. Rather doom by your own hand than by his. Last thing you needed was a call to your parents.

"Fine," you hissed, jerking away from the two. "Just get me out of here and keep your mouths shut."

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ

"Oh, you're so much cuter in my shirt."

"Didn't I say keep your mouth shut?"

Their dorm was infuriatingly spotless. Not a hair nor nook out of place. Perfectly divided into serenity and chaos with a dash of mischief on both. Suguru's records lined a wall while Satoru's books and comics painted another. Satoru's bed hosted a rug on the foot while Suguru's sported more comfy-looking pillows. White and black, darkness and light, dancing in a harmony of clean desks ( apart from Satoru's that scattered with a few silly sticky notes ) and furbished walls. The only thing you could curl your nose at was the ash tray on the windowsill. But even that was relatively clean.

With nothing to shame them on and the irritatingly comfortable, oversized dark shirt pooling around your skirt, you turned your chastising to the blue-eyed creep grinning ear-to-ear as you plopped on the edge of his bed. Damnit, it's comfortable. Probably courtesy of Satoru's daddy's money.

"Don't you two know how to mind your own business? I was having fun."

"Last time we checked, our best friend's little sister is our business."

The bed sank to your left and you restrained your glare from Suguru. You couldn't handle his pretty face being beside you right now. His audacity, however, had you swivelling. "What were you thinking? That party was full of seniors."

What did it matter? It wasn't like you were a highschooler. That's what you hated about systems. It was always a rank of age and experience. The truth was that the bumbling rejection from preschool never truly fades as you go through the years, just gains a different name. Here you were, over eighteen and in a skirt clearly for a college girl— and you were still regarded with incompetence.

His pretty face wouldn't save him from your scowl. "I can handle myself. I don't need two assholes to do it for me."

Satoru scoffed from the side and propped himself against the wall with a lazy drawl. "Oh yeah, cause you're sooo grown up huh? Grinding against any man that spares you some attention."

At this rate you'd get vertigo with your pivoting glare between the two. Or maybe your eyes would tumble out first. Maybe then you wouldn't have to deal with their slap-awaiting, vogue-worthy faces.

"Damn right I am. I'm an adult. And you know what Satoru? It's not of your business."

He grinned. The fucker grinned. Hands stuffed into his pockets. You wished it was to search for some decency. Instead he fished out a condescending glint over the rims of his shades. "Do you even have any idea what Sukuna does to young and pretty girls like you?"

You skipped over the part where he called you pretty and clawed your palms to reel in your snap. Too late. "And what if I did, huh? What if that's exactly why I was talking to him?"

Shame diminished your filter, but rushed back to your face once their silence weighed heavy. Of course you knew what Sukuna was all about. Your brother wouldn't stop ranting about people like him. But did you really just admit that? To these two bastards, no less?

Suguru cleared his throat and you deluded yourself with the possibility of his decency. "Oh."

That chuckle was anything but decent.

"Were you hoping to go home with him, then? And what would you do say— once he got you on his couch?"

You'd take the blue-eyed judgement carving into your very being over the shift from the grinning demon at your side. Suguru never said anything without a double meaning. Conniving devil indeed. You stubbornly pressed your lips together. His implication forced you to swallow your shame.

"I'm— not a virgin," you spluttered. Sure. That's exactly what a virgin would say. Satoru's snicker agreed with the sentiment.

Another snap towards him, then back to those devilish teeth and now an arched, pierced brow that looped your tummy. "That's also, not any of your business."

But you made it their business. Prattling on about wanting to be taken home? You sealed your own fate.

"Aren't you?" The weight of your decision came in an arm slumped around your shoulders. You stiffened. But that didn't stop the press of cool metal against the tease of your thigh. Magnetically, your gaze fell to those silver rings that looked like sin against your skin.

Suguru's hand. On your thigh. Dwarfing, veiny, promising. It looked more than just sin. It looked good.

"Because the way you're acting, the way you're dressing," dark nails pinch on your skirt's hem, testing it. Was it as flimsy as your confidence? His lips ran a similar test on the shell of your ear. "—looks just like all the pretty virgin girls I've had fun with."

Your cheeks burned with your failure. A buzzer blared through your head.

Lost. You lost.

And now? You're blushing, trembling, in the hold of a man's hand you swore you'd break the fingers of back when he dared to use your hairbrush. If only you could muster that same hateful stare you mastered back as teens.

Instead, you shot him a trembled glare, tapered at the edges like your crumbling bravado. All it took was a smirk, a predatory head tilt, his damn thumb brushing on your thigh— and your glass house shattered.

"Lookie there."

He leaned in, dangerously so. "You're proving my point, princess."

Princess. You'd heard him use that before on other girls. But it felt better on you. Felt right. And the way his hand slipped to your inner thigh told you he thought the same.

"Inexperienced," condescending. "Do you even know how to touch yourself?" Crude.

You caught his hand that made itself comfortable in your thigh's warmth. Yur stare locked, then darted. Anywhere but him, then nowhere except him. Frazzled. Flustered. Fingers fumbled.

Not for long. His far larger, guiding digits meshed with yours. Stilling their storm and festering a new one in your tummy as he slid them further. "Well, do you?"

Through the winds you chased your pride. "I— do," and whispered your lies. Your salvaged confidence took another hit with his lips traced on your lobe.

"Prove it."

Guiding, taunting, he flushed your fingertips to the damp spot on your panties, as if he had a sixth sense for it. As if he already knew your body better than you did. With your stuttering rub at the spot and your surprised gasp, you wouldn't be too surprised.

One stroke. Two. You rebuilt your pride like building blocks. Even if you laid each one with a trembling ring and middle finger.

There was no time to question the absurdity of this. Nor how embarrassingly quickly you played into his hand and melted to his touch. Maybe he was a demon after all. He pulled on your strings with ease— your hateful spats became soft splutters in a matter of seconds.

"Now," there's that devilish drawl. "You can't forget here too. Dual stimulation is important." His left hand, like a cruel teacher, guided yours to your tit that felt too good rubbing on the material of Satoru's shirt. And you? An eager student, as you pinched on the peak and rubbed on the stiffening nipple.

When one hand worked, the other stumbled. Your pussy throbbed into your panties as if begging for more friction. Listening to it only swapped the falter on your tit. If your test was on dual stimulation, you failed. Miserably.

And as if eager to circle all your faults in red ink, Suguru smiled. "Is this how you touch yourself? No wonder you're so needy."

Revision time. You're yanked into his lap with an effortless pull on your thighs. His touch was natural on your skin. His hands belonged on yours. Large, eager, clamped yet caressed. His palm was large enough to cup your cunt, and your breast nestled humbly in the other.

His fingers nudged yours into place and led them in a practised choreography. Pressing down just right on the damp spot and turning it into a wet one as he guided your fingers into a crook on your quivered slit. The hand on your tit ushered your lax one into a slow swirl on your nipple.

You whimpered. He was right. Dual stimulation was important.

"There we go, princess." That damp spot wasn't just wet after that one, it was soaking.

"Can you keep that hand moving just like that? Good girl." He withdrew below to pat atop your cunt, then bunched your skirt around your tummy to expose your drenched panties.

"Satoru, look."

Wait, that's right, Satoru's still in the room. Oddly quiet for the brazen loudmouth, you thought, and fluttered your glossy gaze over to where he stood.

What awaited was hunger so vast, you saw it clinging to his ribs. Eyes so dark, yet unobstructed by the glasses now haphazardly shoved into his messy hair. But what really stuttered your hand— was his. Shamelessly down his pants. Palming himself.

Fuck.

"She's so clumsy," Satoru rumbled in a voice you hardly recognised. Where's that annoying pitch? You slicked your fingers further.

"I think she just wants me to do all the work."

It sounded like a complaint, but Suguru nudged your hand out of the way eagerly and stroked his index and middle over your slit. Slotting into the fabric and dragging the friction all the way to your throbbing clit. Then circled, drawing out a whimper. In the midst of stimulation you hardly noticed the creeping beneath your shirt. Until you were arching into both fingers rubbing your panties and another set pinching your perky tit.

"Mngh, Suguru," you whined. It earned you a second pinch, this time to your clit. His circles found better favour in abusing the nub. Slow, steady, with a flick every now and then for good measure.

You squeaked and squirmed. He braced you with a tempered squeeze on your breast and a laugh fanned into your neck. "You wouldn't have lasted a minute with Sukuna. Look at how wet you are."

A third pinch, this time to the fabric. He withdrew the wet cotton then snapped it back to your twitching cunt with a shlick! Your whine had him biting his smile.

"Oh poor, poor pretty girl." There's that condensation again, crooned to your ear as the pads of his fingers flushed on the hood of your clit. Those slow circles turned fervent and vicious.

Pleasure pricked on your spine. Your thighs squirmed and squeezed, subjecting you to more pressure— and his hand? Not one stutter, not one stumble, he even had the focus to lave kisses up your neck and thumb your nipple

"There we go— oh? That's a pretty sound," he grinned at your whimper and sped when you arched. Gyrating the fabric so perfectly on your twitching, trembling clit.

"Gonna-"

"Hmm? Gonna what? Say it for me."

"G-Gonna—!"

He'd settle with your broken whine for now. It was too cute not to. A few minutes on your little nub was all it took?

Stars burst behind your eyelids and your head limped back on his shoulder. Pathetic grinds became needy hip bucks. Not that you needed it. Not when his fingers barely stopped through your orgasm. Feverish, fluid,

And free.

True. Unwavering freedom. Right there. In the palms of this smug bastard's hands.

If your mind wasn't amuck, you might have cussed him out. But how could you when he crooned to your ear so sweetly? When he tendered kisses down your jaw and squeezed your breast in what you could only coin as assurance?

Poor you. So lost in his, "Atta girl. That's how you touch yourself." —that you barely processed the cool air hitting your slick cunt. In fact, only when soft tuffs tickled your thighs did you snap your gaze down.

Pantieless, with pretty, blue eyes gleaming up at you. If Suguru's hands looked good on your thighs? Satoru's face belonged between them.

"Suguru's right, y'know? You'd barely last a second with Sukuna. That's okay though," his lips caressed your inner thigh, and before you could think of clenching, he wrenched them open. His hands were softer, but dare you say deadlier?

"We could always break you in."

He winked. You stuttered.

Freedom might have been a red solo cup at the beginning of the night. But now? It was a head of white hair and glossy lips kissing up your jittery slit together with a glint of silver rings and calloused fingerpads still swirling on your clit.

You throbbed into Satoru's mouth and limped your head into Suguru's, he kissed atop your head instinctively. "Mngh," another stutter, another throb, Satoru vibrated a chuckle.

"So cute."

Cute, wasn't what it felt like when his tongue dipped in. Together with a firm pinch from Suguru. You gushed around the pink muscle. With a gasp, a whine, something in-between. It was Sastoru's turn to stumble.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned into your pussy. How eagerly she accepted his praise. Pulsing into his thumbs that split your folds and the flat of his tongue dragging on your opened slit. "Can't believe you were gonna whore out such a sweet pussy."

His mouth carried out the frustration with sloppy kisses. Suguru shared the sentiment with a tug on your tit and nip on your neck.

But it was Satoru's tightened grip that sealed the deal. Suddenly, smugness wasn't the only thing radiating off of the two. The pair of bastards that you shamed your brother for befriending, the twins of chaos that drove you up the wall—

It was more than suddenly. It was painfully. How did you miss the signs?

Smug? Arrogant? All underlined. But the true factor that drove their haughty hands and heated mouths?

"If you wanna act like a whore, we'll treat you like one."

Jealousy.

After the growl, Satoru fisted your thighs so wide, you wouldn't even think of clenching them. Not that you'd have any string of coherent thought as his face dove into the wetness of your pussy and feasted on it like a man starved. Or perhaps a college boy running on two cups of coffee and even lesser sleep. Which was worse?

You jolted. His kisses became licks, and his licks became sucks. Sloppy yet skilful over your slit. From the hilt, then to the top when his lips brushed on Suguru's knuckle, then back to the middle where his tongue made quick work on spilling out more of your sweet slick.

The latter. The latter was most definitely worse.

Wet shlicks meshed with whimpered shudders. You arched into his face and bucked your hips as best you could. Suguru's fingers barely let up. Three now flat on your clit, with his circling turned to flicks over the poor, overly-stimulated nub.

"W-Wait— oh god, wait," you quivered. Bleary eyes darted to their ceiling. Your thighs clenched into Satoru's hold and tits twitched in Suguru's clutches.

You'd barely been fingered before. Let alone gone dumb on someone's tongue. And four sets of hands? It was too much for your body that only experienced one.

Your grip delved into white locks and another latched on black leather. With the leverage, you bucked and stammered as your body limped back into warmth, all while a cool tongue wrecked your sopping heat.

Filthy. The sounds were filthy. From your webbed lips, from Satoru's slick ones, from Suguru's filthy, ratched ones.

"Wait? Want us to wait? Just showing you what college life's all about, princess." Two more pinches, Satoru doubled down with a loud shlurp, and you cried into the stimulation.

White blinded your vision. Heavy and hot as you pulsed into Satoru's awaiting mouth and twitched into Suguru's cruel fingers. Once, twice, then burst. Slick and messy, all over a chin that ground on you with the rest of his face.

Your orgasm rode out into the endless prickles of pleasure. Held tight on the line of delirious and dumb. But those hands? That mouth? Not one stutter. They weren't you. Inexperienced, clumsy little you who can't even touch herself.

They were cruel. Maybe more than you thought with the way their efforts doubled. Suguru's flicking turned to quick, sharp tapping and Satoru's tongue shoved in and fucked you in a way even your fingers couldn't.

You tensed. That knot in your stomach barely loosened. It burst into a heat that jolted your thighs and squirmed your upper half. "I— I-I can't—" you cried.

Shame. Seemed they liked that. Satoru's eyes rolled, Suguru's narrowed.

"Can't?" Another slap, you jolted with your clit. "Course you can. You're a needy little slut after all? Hmm? Toru, what's that pussy telling ya?"

"Mhhm," Satoru slurred in response. Muffled, wet, messy, as his pointed nose nudged your hood. "Sluttiest— mnghh, fuckin' girl."

If you thought that murmur was greedy, you weren't ready for his lip lock around your clit. Sealed tight on the nub and sucking down in a mix of spit and slick. Suguru clicked his tongue. Satoru always stole his spot.

No matter, he found a better one. With two fingers slick in your cum and shoved into your cunt. They take up a speed that matches the tempered sucking. Quick, punishing, greedy.

You sobbed into the air and pitifully squirmed in Suguru's lap. A pathetic mix of their names drooled from your stuttering mouth. The hand in Satoru's hair turned desperate, he mimicked with his sealed lips and vibrating groans.

You weren't sure what to focus on. The blinding tingles on your crying clit or thick fingers fucking you open and expertly finding that spot you could only dream of.

Was focus even in your dictionary? Not when your pussy clenched in warning and pleasure shot so far up your spine, it knocked the breath from your lungs. The only thing you were good at in this moment was cumming around Suguru's fingers and throbbing into Satoru's lips.

"Toru, Suguuu—wait, please, hngh please-" freedom, capture, the lines blurred as you limped into trapping arms but soared with bucking hips and slutty moans.

"Fuck, what would your brother think?" Suguru bit on your lobe and ground his hips into the cleft of your ass. Your limping weight added just the right friction.

From below, Satoru showed his greed knew no bounds as he released your clit with a lewd pop! only to rush kisses down to your oozing cunt and suck around Suguru's fingers. "He'd hate us. Keeps tellin' us to stay away from you." He heaved.

The audacity. He made you see stars, knocked your breath that you're still trying to catch, and he's breathless? You'd mock him for his pussy-drunkness if it weren't for your mess of glazed eyes and glossy lips.

Besides, he recovered quicker than you. Satoru stood and braced his buckle with an eagerness to get to his zipper. Halted only by Suguru's hum.

"Now, shouldn't we settle this fairly? See who gets this sweet cunt first?"

Their stare locked over your shoulder, and you just so happened to roll your slumped head onto Suguru's and crack an eye open to see Satoru's balled fist. Suguru's followed.

What in the. . .

"Fine, let's settle this reasonably." Satoru huffed. Reasonable seemed to come in a silent chant of three.

Rock.

Paper.

Scissors.

Seriously? You're quickly reminded that you grew up with these two idiots. If you weren't quivering with your cunt on full display and leaking all over the bed, you would have scoffed. Instead your brow arched.

Satoru's fingers jutted in a pair, Suguru's remained balled. Rock beats scissors, Suguru grinned— Satoru groaned. "Fuck." He slumped back into his desk chair with the theatrics of an art major.

You went to roll your eyes and chastise. But your gaze gaped and mouth ran dry when a small click and zip revealed that you had bigger problems to worry about. Much bigger problems.

Suguru's dick sprung from his briefs and slapped back onto your cunt. You'd heard a thing or two about cock before. They were either girthy, or long, but Suguru's? Thick. With enough length to consider him monstrous. And right on the underside, like a bow on a behemoth, a silver glint caught your eye— a frenum piercing just below his pronounced tip.

"It's. . ." You gulped.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Satoru grinned.

"We're not beating the allegations when you say shit like that, Satoru." Suguru grumbled.

His tip smooched your entrance in a lewd hello, then glided through your slick. As if coaxing your poor, trembling slit to calm down. Much like his caressing hands that stroked your inner thighs and spread you wide. Like his cooing voice on your ear.

"Sshh, pretty girl. I've got you. Treat my poor little virgin girls so good, I promise."

A small pop! followed your whimper and your thighs locked— but rough, tender hands guided them apart. "Breathe for me baby. Stay nice and open." Tender strokes on your hip loosened your muscles. As if your body wanted to be good for him.

It did. Wanted to be his good girl. The pretty thing on his lap as you took him in. Inch by agonising inch.

If your fingers were nothing compared to his? They were laughable when compared to his cock. Slick walls gushed and contracted, throbbed and tightened. Each pulse another beg that his girth happily obliged to: stuffing you further.

"Sugu," you broke, and he swore, it was what angels were made of.

Those calloused hands knew nothing but caresses. Over your hips, your sides, cupping your breasts with an encouraging squeeze. His kiss calmed the drumming in your ear. "Easy does it. Taking it so well. Righ, Satoru?"

"So well," Satoru agreed, so soft you barely heard. And for a moment, a devastating moment, you considered a world where that 'performative protectiveness' truly was care.

Another push to your gummy resistance as your cunt clamped tight. The fullness bubbled hiccups in your throat as your hand scrambled for Suguru's wrist while his hands palmed your thighs.

Don't look down, don't you down.

You looked down.

Met with not only a bulge you've only heard about in fiction— but the hilt of his cock. Throbbing, thick, and oh so slicked in your pouring wetness. Like a gift that keeps on giving. To say he stretched you out was an understatement. No, he devoured you. Veins thrumming into your nerves, tip smooched heatedly into a withering spot that sent your toes curling, and filling up every crevice to the point where you weren't sure which part was you and which was Geto fucking Suguru.

The sight had you clenching, gripping around his dick in a vice that begged him not to leave. He hissed into your shoulder. "Fuck, she's tighter than we thought."

Any questioned died on your tongue as he withdrew. Leaving you empty only halfway, but still a few inches too much for your whining, slippery pussy— only to scold her impatience with a quick, easy pump. You scrambled.

"Wh-What do you—" air was a luxury. Like his hands palming your breasts, like his lips laving your neck. "What do you— you mean? Thought?"

Suguru fell into a leisure rhythm. Slow, testing. He eased you through the sting and loosened your needy walls with a swirling thumb to your clit.

Through your shaky breaths and fluttering eyes, you blearily watched as Satoru slanted back into the chair with a hand matching the pace of Suguru's thrusts. If you weren't so occupied with the dick dragging through your folds and that filthy piercing grazing on a perfect sweetspot, you'd have taken a moment to familiarise his cock, too.

"Isn't it obvious?" Suguru grunted, his hands squeezed on your thighs and wrenched them to strain over his lap. Two grinds into your cervix made you whimper from fullness— only to pitifully whine as he retracted to the tip. "Wanted this pussy since forever. Then you had the audacity to put it on advertisement."

Every whine, every whimper, knocked from your chest with air as his hips slammed back. A nasty squelch paired with a sharp slap reverberated. He caught your squirming by the waist and shoved you onto him. Squeezing in the last inches of his cock until the head gyrated on your cervix like a warning.

"So c'mon now." He laughed, breathless, feral, as his strength effortlessly bounced you on his dick that thrust up in a ruinous rhythm. Faster, with purpose, splattering your slick all over your thighs and his.

A lewd beat of balls slapping your folds, your ass clapping down on him and your sweet cries sung into the air heavy with the smell of sex. Like a lewd symphony building into a slutty crescendo.

"Show me what a slut you can be, huh? Fuck me back, yeah— fuck, that's it princess." How pathetic a princess can be. Sloppy and clumsy as your hips take up a stuttering fumble. Just barely mimicking his guiding hands ragdolling you on his dick. "This is how you ride cock. Just like that. Doing so well."

You just barely managed to catch another groan. Deeper, breathier. Through wet and weak eyes you see Satoru, neck crooked and stained fingers squeezing round his girth. Your mouth waters at the drips of precum— but your eyes cringed at a flash.

Only then did you notice his other hand gripping around his phone as if he couldn't focus on which palm actually held his dick. He nursed on his pink lip with sharp teeth, hazy eyes flickering between the screen and the real thing. There, all wet, and wide, and whimpering on Suguru's lap.

"She's messin' all over, Suguru." Satoru rasped.

"Sure you love that. 's your bed." Suguru chuckled.

And since he was such a good best friend, he leaned back, spread you wider as he fisted on the fat of your thighs. He wrung you open on full display so the camera caught every inch of your glistening, sopping pussy. Every clench around his dick, every bit of that ring of filthy cream you left around his base. And most importantly? How you splattered and spilled every time he emptied to the tip, grazed his piercing on the hilt of your slit— then rammed back in.

You're a mess of whimpering sobs and a crying pussy as you limped back into Suguru, splaying yourself further into the heat of finally, finally getting fucked open. And by your brother's best friend no less.

"Awww baby," Satoru crooned. "Listen to those whimpers. Really think you'll survive the real world like this? So fucked-out and you haven't even cum yet. Filthy girl."

Filthy, they called you filthy while their tongues were capable of sins. As if Satoru wasn't fisting his leaking dick and documenting this moment. As if Suguru wasn't sucking hickies all over your neck, pinching on a tit while two fingers messily swirled on your clit.

If you were filthy? They were disgusting. Disgusting for wanting you like this, for taking you like this. And you? All the same for clenching around a guy's cock you swore to hate for the rest of your life, and soaking the other's sheets.

"This," a thrust rammed into your cervix as clamping hands ground you into the bursts of heat arching your spine. "This is what it is to be fucked. Feels good, doesn't it?" Your clit stung into a wet slap then throbbed into the mean pinch of his thumb.

You nodded, brokenly, deliriously, "yes, yes, feels so good— hngh sugu, feels so good—" tears stained your hot face. Your mouth fell open in a web of saliva and he chased the trail with eager lips down your jaw.

"'m gonna— ah - gonna— please!" Your nerves flared, tummy taut. That devasting knot reformed with a pool of blistering heat. You bucked down rapidly, pitifully, as if you had any control of how his cock bullied your squelching walls.

Suguru caught your high with a breathless laugh and cruel swipes on your clit. Sending you from cloud nine into an endless void of spasms and stars splitting before your rolling eyes.

You didn't just clench— you squeezed the life out of him. Milking every vein and squeezing around his cockhead smooching your cervix until his maw slacked and fell into your shoulder. Brows furrowed, teeth biting, he bucked into the curve of your ass and suffocating pussy while gripping onto the last shreds of his sanity. Not now, not—

"Suguru, ohgod suguuuu,"

Shattered. He humped into your heat with a grunting whine and met your flood with his spill. Shooting ropes, upon robes of thick, creamy heat into your pulsing pussy.

"Fuck." His hand abandoned your tit for your jaw, swiveling your head and shoving your lips to his. So that teeth clattered, tongues twisted, and his barbell piercing took your breath away.

You're lost. Ears full of cotton, lungs crying for air, face smudged with streaming mascara and smeared lipstick. But to Suguru dizzy on your saliva and the now panting Satoru? You were beautiful.

While he parted his mouth, his cock remained buried. Eagerly grinding into your prickling bundle of nerves that shook you with more sobs. "Already crying?" He grinned. There's the devil again.

"Baby, you haven't even taken toru."

The world tilted. You're whining from emptiness. The taste of cotton pillows and the feel of wrinkled sheets smoothed on your tummy comforted your now vacant, raw pussy. The weight below shifted into something heavier above you. Flushed into your ass and the curve of your spine with white stands tickling your cheek.

Your oozing cunt wasn't lonely for long. Another plush tip shoved between her messy folds and twitched at the glaze smearing all over. You choked on the hand curling round your throat to cradle you— or yank you back. You didn't know, you didn't care.

Not when your eyes were rolling and pussy was splitting for a second girth. Shoved careless, and zealous with the eagerness of a man starved. And while your sweetspot missed the piercing, your cervix loved how this one shoved into it head-on. Not a smooch, but a smack.

"She's gushing so much," a low groan melted into your whine as a sharp nose dug into your cheek. Shaper teeth grazed on your ear and his long fingers squeezed on your throat. "Feels so good to be a slut, huh sweet girl?" Satoru rumbled. His body was smoother than Suguru's, but a bit bigger, deliciously so.

When you answered with babbles, a small drawback and wet snap! morphed it into a crying confession. "Yes, yes, fuck— Satoru, feels s'good."

He chuckled at your slurs, a rough sound grinding into your ear the same way his cock grated into that sweltering bundle of nerves. "Might wanna hold on tight, sweet girl." His fingers released your throat for your scalp, delving in almost gently as his pace faltered with.

"Not gonna be as gentle as Suguru."

Your eyes widened into the sheets. If what Suguru did to you was considered gentle then—

"Hngh!"

Your cry muffled into cotton as his fingers clenched in your hair and shoved your face into the mattress. But nothing compared to the tempered piston that were his hips. Hot, heavy and haughty as they pounded ripples into your soft ass.

Wetness squeezed and spluttered from your dripping pussy. Smearing Satoru's cock all over and showing him what he was missing. Now that he had it? He was feral and filthy in your ear, in his pace. Trapping you into the sheets with nowhere to run. Nowhere to the hide. Just to be his.

His whore. Their little slut. Until you were spurting out whimpers like the stringy mess pouring from your quivered slit.

"I can't— S'toru- I can't take iitttt."

Overstimulation bled into your tears, and despite your pitiful whines of heat and desperation, your ass still attempted to hump back into him. He huffed a laugh into your hair.

"That right baby?" A nasty hump on your cervix pitched your sobs. "That why you're— fuck, clenching like that? Slutty pussy's tellin' on you, y'know."

A second chuckle joined, one more graceful. Mirroring the hand that cupped your face and brought your head into black leather. Suguru crooned above you as he nudged your bobbing head into his lap. "Oh, can't you? Thought you could handle yourself."

So cruel, yet so comforting. While Satoru's balls barraged against your folds and he chased bruises on your ass, hell— your cervix too— Suguru stroked a thumb on your wet cheekbone and smeared your mascara against his nail polish.

He clicked his tongue, something between condescending and considerate as his thumb swiped over your drooling lips. From your eyes rolled back, you couldn't witness his heated stare. Instead, you spluttered over his hand with whorish moans.

Blurred, incomprehensible, but spiked in a pitch when a sharp spank vibrates your ass. Only to grip and shove it straight back into the mattress. Open and raw against punishing thrusts that made your cries turn into squeals. "This," Satoru hissed, squeezing on fat so it bulged through his finger gaps.

"This is what you gotta expect from guys." He sneered. But his tone quickly shifted as his warm palm cupped below your jaw and yanked your head back to face him. So that your looping eyes, drooling mouth and cute little whines were right below him. He corrected himself with a chuckle.

"Nah, this is what you should expect from us. Know damn well this pussy is ours now, huh?"

He punctuated with a cruel pinch and rub on your clit paired with an angle that knocked the breath from you. Still, you spluttered yieldingly. "M-Mhhm! Mhhm! All— all youurrss hngh."

He twitched. Deep, devastating, and you clenched just in time to send his eyes fluttering too. "Say my name," he gasped. Something rough, something desperate.

"Satoru," you whined, babbling into his fingers that shook around your cheeks, squishing them so your saliva strung. "S-Satoru, Satoru— toru- torutoruuu." You shattered.

Another tug, this time to your hair. Sugur's fingers joined the mix as your strands meshed with silver rings. "Hey now," he breathed. "Don't leave me out. Say mine prettily like that too, princess."

How could you deny him? "Suguuuu," you whimpered. "Suguuruu- sugu, angh, I can't—" Your fingers curled into the sheets, and he quickly snatched your hand. Satoru grabbed the other, yanking it back to where he held you down by the hip.

"Can't?" He mocked.

"Cannn'tt, 'm— fuck, please, s'too much."

While you keened from overstimulation, your pussy drooled and strung all over. Spurting that delicious, addictive cream that scratched at Satoru's sweet tooth. You clamped round his cock. Eager to milk him like you did Suguru. And he whimpered, then grunted.

"Don't think so, sweetheart." He slipped his hand to squeeze tight on your throat and withdrew to the tip, only to piston forward. Bottoming out so your squelching walls were stuffed to the brim and he could abuse your cervix with brutal hammers.

"In fact, I think you're gonna cum," he laughed. Loud, and boisterous, and arrogant. All in the same way he pounded sobs from both your lips and pussy. "Right? Cum for me. Cream my dick baby."

Oh you did more than cream. As your eyes squeezed and your body spasmed, the clench of your wall didn't come with a warm bubble— but a hot stream. A loud, lewd squirt pulsing from your cunt and spraying both of your thighs.

You cramped up, he tensed, but never faltered. Riding out your high while chasing his with stuttered moans and a rambling tongue. "Fuuckk, a squirter," he heaved, voice breaking as the knot within him snapped and he repaid your gift tenfold. Pumping you full for the second time that night. Until your poor pussy was squelching the combination of fluids from your slit and officially ruining Satoru's bed.

Fuck.

"Can tell ya, no guy's gonna be able to do that to you." He groaned, damp hair tickling your cheek when his face fell into your shoulder and his body collapsed onto you. You choked a whine from the pressure, and finally managed to catch your breath as the pistoning pounds became small rocks. Until nothing more but a throbbing, softening dick.

Satoru slipped from your wetness with a whimper you barely heard. Soon the sheets were replaced by a warm chest and you panted into the scent of sandalwood wrapped around you. Deft fingers rubbed on the back of your scalp.

"No guy's gonna do this for you either," Suguru mumbled as his arms held you against him. Satoru joined behind you, his still, somehow cold arms, hooking around your waist and squeezing your thighs that he's evidently obsessed with.

His kisses pressed into the heat of your neck. Each one of them weaving out the intensity of being not only fucked, but overstimulated and stuffed. At last, you relaxed into them. Nothing but panting breaths, quivered thighs and soft whimpers.

The silence blanketed you in silk. And for yet another moment, you forgot whose arms you trembled in. Better yet, whose cocks you let ruin you. Realisation dawned when you caught that satisfied smirk tugged on Suguru's mouth.

"You're both so annoying." You managed, but the way your lips fell to Suguru's shoulder and your fingers laced with Satoru's told another story.

"But you love us, hmm?" Satoru mumbled into your neck with a boyish grin and you wished you pores would secrete poison to kill him in that moment.

Anger's heat melted into an embarrassed simmer, however, and you spluttered a fluster of barely strung together 'what's' and 'how's'. You're shushed by Suguru's thumb on your lips.

He smiled. "You're very obvious."

But his kiss to your ears and Satoru's to your scalp told you there was nothing to fear. If your past self could see you now, she'd scoff and spit at you. But you didn't care. Happiness seeped beneath your ribs and you bit back a smile as they snuggled into you. Trapping you between them, but it was the furthest thing from a cage.

This? This was freedom.

"We've got you." Suguru whispered. "We'll take care of you."

"Later, though." Satoru winked.

You stiffened when Suguru didn't seem to correct him. Suddenly, their smiles looked more sinister than sweet.

Pretty bitch boy slipped his hand down to squeeze on your ass. And his beloved, competitive asshole? He murmured to your ear with a husked rumble.

"What? You thought we're done?"

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised. divider: @/dollywons. art cred: sakimichanmale (twt)

But you know you have to address this someday. And it might be today. Address the fact that your boyfriend will never be just yours. Your heart uncomfortably twists at that. It was indeed true. 

Mingyu is an eye candy. The heartstopper. No matter where you go, the limelight will always be on him. Good looks, personality, intelligence. He’s got the whole pack. It’s as if God took his sweet time sculpting his heart, mind, and body.  

“Hey, baby,” you flinch at the sound of his voice and sigh, placing a hand over your heart. mingyu eyes you in confusion, and with a small smile on his lips, he apologizes for scaring you. Sending a half-hearted nod his way, you bring the food closer to your side. 

It was your idea. To go to the nearby convenience store to get food after an intense love-making session that left you tired and hungry. You didn’t accept his offer to cook, knowing that he was tired too. But frankly, you lost your appetite. You toy with your food, drawing shapes in the sauce. 

With a loud sigh, you stand, muttering to him that you want to buy something. He nods and tries his best to reply with his ramen-filled mouth. You groan as soon as you’re out of his sight. A part of you knows it’s not his fault. And the other part reasons that he should know how it would feel since he, himself is the possessive type. 

You take something random from the aisle after a moment of consideration and turn to return to the table when a hand roughly pulls your hips back. You gasp, hearing mingyu’s hushed voice, “want me to fuck you loudly so that she could hear it?” 

You bite your lip, swallowing the moan that the lewd thought elicited in you. His fingers dig into the exposed skin of your thigh, and he grinds his clothed crotch against your hip. You let out small gasps and bated breaths as he continues to grind himself harder. Your (his) hoodie is unzipped halfway to expose your neck, which he marks yet again. 

“I’m yours, baby. don’t you know that? hmm? I can prove it.” he whispers, his hands slipping into your panties. His other hand keeps your mouth open, and a moan escapes your lips. The cool wind hitting your skin makes you shiver, and him toying with your clit adds to it. 

“mingyu,” you mewl out his name, your hips grind onto his fingers, chasing friction. 

“God, you’re so wet. And we just fucked a hour ago.” 

He pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in and out at a comfortable pace. mingyu stops his ministrations and curls his fingers against that spot. It forces you to gasp and tug at his hair. He removes his hand from your mouth, and the saliva-coated fingers find your nipple under your shirt. 

Your body hasn’t yet recovered from the previous carnal venture. Every touch has you seeing stars, and you can feel the orgasm ripping through already. But it stops when he removes his hands from your needy core. “Not here. Can’t have my baby walking with wet shorts back home,” he laughs at your needy figure and kisses your strained neck muscles. 

Mingyu holds you against him till you come down from your high. His hands massage your body, and he softly whispers that he’s only yours. It brings a smile to your face, and all ugly feelings are thrown out the window. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispers against your cheeks with a love-sick look in his eyes. You chuckle and whisper the same back to him. Reaching to hold his face, you lean in, but you’re cut off by the part-timer. 

Annoyance runs through your veins, but you’re satisfied to find her shocked state at your intimate position with mingyu. You press a kiss to his lips, eyes still on her. A cocky smile plays on your lips, and your heart feels light when you pull back. Mingyu shakes his head when you shoot him a sickeningly-sweet smile and laughs, playing into your game. 

You pack the food, not wanting to waste the money, and leave the store. But not before you flaunt the love bites gifted by your boyfriend. All exhaustion seems to have left you as you happily skip in the street. He skips along with you, blushing and laughing at the scandalising act you both pulled. You let him do so while he can. And your boyfriend links hands with you, oblivious to the punishment awaiting him. 

a reblog?

It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.

Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.

His little sister, however, does not see it that way.

Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.

Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.

“It’s caramel.”

You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”

Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.

Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.

“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.

“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”

Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.

“It’s caramel.”

“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”

Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”

It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.

“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”

Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.

“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”

It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”

Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.

“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”

“You what?”

His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.

Fuck.

You were going to kill him.

It’s not Mingyu’s fault.

When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.

“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.

Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.

Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.

You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.

Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.

Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”

The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.

“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”

He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.

“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”

The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”

Fuck.

Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.

The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.

“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”

Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.

“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.

Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”

All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.

When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.

You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.

You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.

“Are you ready?”

Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.

“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”

You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”

The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.

“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”

“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.

Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.

You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.

“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”

Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.

“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.

“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.

“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.

Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.

“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”

Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.

“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.

You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”

Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.

The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.

Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.

The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.

You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.

Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.

“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”

The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.

Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.

Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.

“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.

“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”

You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”

Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”

In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.

The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.

It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.

The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.

“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.

His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.

“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”

Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.

Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.

“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”

Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”

“Why? That’s why I have you.”

Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.

By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.

The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.

“Here.”

You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.

“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.

The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.

For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.

Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.

He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.

Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.

It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.

Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.

“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.

Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.

Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.

Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.

These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.

Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.

In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.

At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.

As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.

After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.

Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.

When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.

“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”

It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.

“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”

Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.

Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.

“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”

The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.

“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”

“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.

“You’re not?”

“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”

Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.

“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”

He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.

The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.

If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.

Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.

“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.

The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.

Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.

“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.

As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.

You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.

“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”

“I want you to fuck me now.”

Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”

He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.

“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”

You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.

Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.

“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”

You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.

“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.

Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.

“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”

The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.

“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”

When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.

Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.

You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”

That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.

“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”

You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.

Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.

Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.

If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.

Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.

“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.

Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.

“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.

Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.

It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.

“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.

Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.

His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.

“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”

Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.

Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.

Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.

“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.

Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.

You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.

When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”

You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.

Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.

“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”

He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

The movie is indeed not that scary, you kept quoting some of the lines here and there, which earned you a chuckle from Suguru every time.

“No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I wanna be in the sequel,” you say in the same voice and attitude and your husband runs a hand through your hair.

“I think you’d easily outsmart him,” your husband is very supportive of you, but instead of making fun of his statement, your heart thrums in your chest when you picture Suguru in the ghostface mask.

“Really?” you look up at him through your eyelashes but Suguru is staring ahead and doesn’t notice the eyes you’re giving him.

“Yeah, they’re all pretty stupid—minus Sidney, I mean the fact that—“ your husband goes on a three minute ramble about the plot, how he appreciates the intelligence of the main character all while saying that the choice of the ghostface killers was nice. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of something else. Something far dirtier than intended.

“Baby,” you cut him off from his ramble and he hums in response.

“You’d be pretty hot as ghostface.” Suguru looks down on you when you say that and raises both eyebrows knowingly.

“Are you insinuating something?” To which you shrug your shoulders before staring back at the big screen in your living room, playing innocent.

“Just saying.”

You weren’t just saying, you knew exactly what you were doing. The next day, you’re sat on your bed folding laundry while watching the newest episode to your favorite podcast. You liked keeping your brain stimulated, and it distracted you from the fact that your husband was always gone for long hours during the day. But when you hear the keys rustling and the front door opening, you raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. Today’s mission must’ve been quick, you think to yourself.

“Welcome home!” you call out from your bedroom but don’t bother to get up, you knew he would come to your bedroom immediately so you keep your eyes on your computer and go back to folding the laundry.

A couple of minutes pass and Suguru doesn’t walk inside the bedroom, so you start getting a little suspicious and decide to go check on him.

“Sugu?” you walk out of the bedroom and notice how the lights downstairs are turned off. You remember leaving them on for him, so he must’ve turned them off on his way upstairs—but where was he?

“Baby, are you in the shower?” the lights in the bathroom were on but the door was closed. Suguru never walked to the bathroom first without greeting you—unless something was wrong. You put your hand on the door handle, but before you could twist the knob, a warm and rough hand covers your mouth and your blood runs cold when you’re being pulled into a different room.

You don’t have time to scream or panic, because when you’re being pinned to the wall by a rather familiar set of hands, your eyes almost bulge out of your skull when you notice the ghostface mask. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks flushed but there’s no sign of panic because you know who this is—the dragon tattoo peeking out of his shirt and the wedding band on his ring finger are enough evidence.

“Do you like scary movies?” Suguru’s voice sounds silky smooth, but the flirting connotation to it has your heart leaping out of your chest.

“Sugu—“

“Wrong,” he pins both hands above your head and his body is so close to yours that you feel the heat radiating off of it. “Let’s try again, I know my girl is smart.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, but you play along and nod sheepishly.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“Mhm,”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He traces a finger over your cheek, and the arousal slowly starts pooling between your legs.

“Hm, I don’t know,” you reply in a similar flirtatious tone, nervousness long gone. The realization that you didn’t have to explicitly tell your husband about the ghostface mask and him buying it for your pleasure made all of this very thrilling.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“Hm, Halloween,” you stick to the same script of the movie, you buck your hips towards him but he pushes a knee between your legs and pins you again to the wall. “Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask that walks around and stalks baby sitters?”

“Yeah,” Suguru breathes out and takes in how gorgeous you look like this—how he should’ve thought of doing this a long time ago. Your eyes were blown out with lust, chest heaving in excitement all while allowing him to play with you like this. He could feel his pants tighten and his cock was slowly getting hard from knowing exactly what was coming.

“What’s yours?” you bring him out of his thoughts and although you can’t see his face, you know that he was giving you that signature charming smile that always won over your heart.

“Guess.” He purrs out and you subconsciously start grinding against his knee before giving him a reply.

“Nightmare on Elm Street,”

“Wrong,” Suguru goes off script and your lips part for a moment. You’re about to complain, tell him that this wasn’t in the movie—he lets go of your wrists and throws you over his shoulder, delivering a harsh smack to your ass, his rough hand kneads the skin as he makes his way towards your bedroom.

“Better luck next time,” he throws you on the bed and you let out a gasp when your back hits the mattress. You try to sit up, but your husband grabs your ankles and pulls you down towards the end of the bed. “Now let’s see just how fucking filthy you are,”

He parts your legs with his big hands covering the plush skin of your thighs, and you whine out when he removes your shorts to reveal your panties that had an obvious wet patch on them.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out and lifts up the mask enough for his mouth and nose to be visible. He presses his nose against your panties and takes a whiff of your arousal, the sight is obscene and your face turns red at how pussy drunk he sounds. “Fuck, fuck—should’ve done this sooner baby, you smell so fucking good,” he gives your pussy a kiss through the fabric of your panties before his fingers remove them so messily that you let out a startled noise.

Suguru dives in between your legs and the wet sounds are dirty and make you feel even more turned on. His tongue laps at your clit, fingers pulling the hood back before spitting on it and your eyes roll to the back of your head when he sucks. Two of his thick fingers prod at your entrance, gathering some of the slick that’s pooled there before pushing a single finger inside.

“Thaaaat’s it, good girl,” he breathes out against your clit before giving it a kiss as he pushes the second finger inside. “Yeah, this pussy loves being stuffed by me—fuck, you’re so wet for me. All because of this mask baby girl?” his tone is playful but you’re far too gone to complain and just mindlessly nod.

“So drunk off of me and I haven’t even given you my cock,” he pumps his fingers in and out of you all while curling them to find that one spot inside you. He licks, sucks and spits on your clit with so much passion and when he finds that one spot, you let him know pretty quickly.

“Oh!” you gasp and your thighs shake. “S-Suguru, oh fuck--!” his wrist is burning as he keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, and the veins in his forearm are bulging out from the sheer strength he is using to finger fuck you until you see white. His free hand comes down and presses against your stomach to apply pressure and keep you pinned down.

You make the mistake of opening your eyes to stare at him. His hand is covered in your arousal, but what truly pushes you over the edge is the fact that his mask had come down and was covering his face entirely. So when he decides to talk you through it, give you that one final push—the ghostface mask seems to intensify the orgasm tenfold.

“I know you’re a good girl, but I’m gonna need you to get dirty for me baby—there it is, theeere it is,” he sounds proud when you finally cum, and you’re loud. You whine and let out soft cries, your hands weakly push at his arm when he keeps fingering you through your orgasm.

“Suguru—too much!” you cry out and gasp when he pulls his fingers out of your soaking pussy to slap your clit.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he quickly starts to unbuckle his belt and pushes his pants enough to free his cock. The tip nudges at your folds and your husband hovers over you with his lean stature. Big broad shoulders cover your entire frame and you’re fucked out from your previous orgasm.

“I’m going in baby, let me in,” your legs spread instinctively to welcome him inside of you and you groan when you feel the sheer size of him inside you. Your hands grip at the back of his shirt, but Suguru holds himself up on his forearms so that you look at his mask.

“Yeah, that’s right—look at me baby, filthy fucking girl,” his strokes were slow but hard. His hands grab at the back of your thighs and push them before fucking into you harder. “You like it, huh?” you couldn’t even give a proper response, only mindlessly nodding when you could feel him even deeper inside you.

He pushes your knees to your chest before setting a dizzying pace. You feel so full of him, so full of his thick cock and Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head behind his mask every time he felt your pussy squeeze around him. His finger rubs at your clit the same way that you’ve shown him you like it, and the tip of his cock repeatedly nudges against that one spot that has you falling apart underneath him with a loud cry.

Your orgasm hits you hard and Suguru can’t hold it in any longer—he fucks into you for another minute, head buried in your neck as he groans out your name. Your pussy milks him dry, and he fills you up to the brim—to the point where you could feel him leak out of you.

You lay there breathing heavily, and you weakly reach for the ghostface mask and remove it off of your husband to reveal his sweaty forehead and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous like that, and you lock eyes for the first time since the entire night and you’re immediately pulled in towards one another.

Suguru kisses you with so much passion, dick still buried deep inside you and your legs stay wrapped around him as you two make out heavily under your sheets that stuck to your sweaty bodies. You pull away for a moment to kiss his forehead and Suguru closes his eyes as he melts at your touch.

“Thank you for that,” you say, so love struck that the man can’t help but chuckle at how breathless you sound.

“Let’s do it again, yeah?”

You know Yuji never forces you to tell him everything but he was always the first person you’d go to when something happened or came to your mind. It was a secret you’ve been quiet about for an entire year, and it’s gotten to the point where you’re starting to feel guilty for not telling Yuji.

It was a month before this secret of yours occurred. You were invited to Yuji’s house due to the amounts of homework assigned and you planned to stay the night. You knew Yuji had three older brothers, but you’ve only ever met two of them. His eldest brother was occasionally occupied with his job and was barely home, so you never met him until that night.

When you first met Choso, it was like the same interaction you had with his other brothers. You both shook hands and introduced each other, but he was rather reserved and didn’t necessarily want to converse much due to the workload he receives each day. You couldn’t blame Choso though, and figured he’d come around.

Well, it was more like you did.

You found yourself spending most days at Yuji’s house, especially when Choso was around. You both grew quite a bond, and Yuji was extremely happy to see his best friend get along with all of his three brothers. Choso used to return home around 10pm each weekday night, but after a couple months, he begin returning around 6pm.

This gave you more interactions with Choso, and eventually, you began developing feelings for him.

You couldn’t grasp how or when you started receiving these feelings about him. It was just— one day, you were looking at him and talking to him, unable to break your gaze while your heart raced quick. You were flustered, breaking your words and trying to remain calm. Choso never brought the fact up either, and seemed rather unaware about it.

And you were embarrassed to tell Yuji about your huge crush on his elder brother, so you just remained silent and pretended as if nothing was bothering you. Of course, Yuji often noticed your moods and always questioned what was worrying you, but you always dismiss it and claim you were just having a gloomy day.

Yuji had no reason to question you further. He was an optimistic person, who causally lightens the mood of others and makes the atmosphere more pleasant and cheery. And because Yuji perceives your relationship with his brothers as casual and friendly, he never suspected anything.

You've seen numerous situations where someone had a major crush on their best friend's sibling, and the outcome was either good, or bad. And now that you're in the situation, you anticipated on the worse outcome.

"Hello? Y/n?" Yuji taps your shoulder, causing you to snap away from your thoughts. You turn to him and he chuckles. "What are you thinking so much about?"

"Oh. Nothing, of course. I'm just dozing off easily today," you reply with a small smile. You couldn't admit to Yuji that you were day dreaming about his older brother.

"Is something bothering you? Like for real?" Yuji tilts his head, sounding genuinely concerned. He noted that this behavior has been frequent, and he worried that you were facing issues that caused you to daze away like this.

"Not really. I'm just getting small sleep, that's all. Don't worry too much," you try to reassure Yuji, and your friend nods, seeming to back off since it appeared you didn't want to talk further more about it.

"Well.. anyway, wanna have a sleepover tonight? All of my brothers are home, plus it's a three day weekend! We can all stay up and play games- oh! Or even watch an entire movie franchise- like the Hunger Games with Jennifer Lawrence!" Yuji quickly switches the topic, sounding enthusiastic as he mentions this sleepover.

Sleepovers were common between you and Yuji, and your parents even paid no mind to Yuji spending the night at your place. So, you accepted. Not only because the sleepover was going to be fun, but because Choso was going to be there too. Your heart began beating fast as the image of Choso pops in your head and you refrained yourself from smiling too much in front of Yuji.

"I'll come by around 5. Gotta pack my stuff and help mom cook rice before I leave," you inform Yuji, who nods while pulling out his phone.

"I wish Megumi and Nobara can join us, sucks that they're going out of town this weekend," Yuji sighs in disappointment.

Your other two friends- Nobara and Megumi, were often occupied with their own things. There were several times where you four had sleepovers other than hanging out, but you all still were the bests of friends. You heard that Nobara was going to another city for her weekend, while Megumi was visiting his dad a few towns outside of Tokyo.

“Come on, let’s head back to class,” Yuji says, groaning as he jumps out of the chair he was in.

Lunch period was about to end soon, so the two of you left the cafeteria and joined up with your friends that were already in the classroom. Needless to say, the rest of the school day flashed by at an instant and you were already heading home.

You were honestly too excited as you walked the entire way home with Nobara, since she lived a few streets away from you. While she was babbling about some of her shopping experiences, you were pondering about what to wear, what perfumes to bring, or whatever would get Choso’s attention. Should I wear my expensive lingerie just incase? You thought.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Nobara nudges you away from your thoughts and you turn to her with an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry, Nobara. I’m just spacing out a lot today,” you give the same excuse, smiling awkwardly.

“You’re always spacing out,” Nobara smirks before leaning close. “You got a boy on your mind?”

Blood quickly rushes to your cheeks and you turn to her, immediately shaking your head to which she laughs.

“Hah! Yes you fucking do have a crush on someone!” Nobara’s smile grows wider as she steps closer to you. “Come on~ tell me! Who is it? I won’t tell anyone! Oh, let me guess- Yu—“

“What! No, no! No way, definitely not Yuji!” you decline quick, glaring at Nobara.

“Well that means you do like someone though.”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t lie, yes you do!” Nobara huffs, furrowing her brows as she continues to nag you about your crush. But you just didn’t answer her at all. “Come on, I won’t tell a soul. Not even Megumi!”

“Bye, Nobara. My house is this way,” you roll your eyes at her with a grin, as you quickly retreat down your street to your house.

“Y/n!! I’m going to find out!!” Nobara shouts after you.

You sigh, feeling relieved that Nobara didn’t follow you and further inquire you about your crush. Of course, it wouldn’t necessarily be bad to tell her or anyone at all, but you still felt embarrassed, let alone anxious.

For one, Nobara had a thing for Choso. Well, it wasn’t necessarily a huge fat crush, but she considered him to be quite attractive and would definitely date him. Yuji heard the statement, of course, and immediately declined her being his older brother’s girlfriend. So imagine Yuji reacting to your crush on Choso.

Well, you didn’t want to imagine it further.

Shaking those thoughts away, you quickly enter your house. You change into a set of comfortable clothes before entering the kitchen to prepare rice so that your mother would have less work to do when she arrives home. You texted your parents that you’d be staying at Yuji’s afterwards, and got to packing.

You were probably going to stay the entire weekend, so you packed enough clothes until then. You gathered your woman products, skin products and shower products and other essentials you needed. And just incase, you wore your nice and expensive lingerie.

Not that you expected anything to happen, though you were somewhat hopeful. It was easy to imagine because you’re still a virgin. And it was imaginary to have Choso be your first time. But you just couldn’t help it at all.

You left the house afterwards and made your way to the nearest bus stop to get to Yuji’s house. He lived farther away from you, though it wouldn’t hurt walking there by feet, you just decided to take the bus since it’d be easier for you.

The bus ride lasted 20 minutes and soon enough, you arrived in Yuji’s quiet and welcoming neighborhood. You didn’t know a lot about their parents, but Choso was primarily the one taking care of his siblings. He worked countless of jobs, trying to earn enough money while going to school. He honestly did everything for his younger brothers, and he was able to get them all a nice house in the neighborhood. You admired Choso for that too.

You step onto the porch, pushing your suitcase with you before pressing the doorbell. It was about 5pm, so Choso mustn't been home yet. You waited by the door for several minutes, and heard footsteps on the other side of the door.

As the door clicked and swung open, you expected to see a smiling Yuji standing there- but instead, it was Choso. Your mouth slightly dropped as you saw him. Of course, you didn't expect to greet him first.

"Oh, you're here," Choso says, stepping to the side to allow you inside. "Need me to carry your stuff?"

"Ah, no, it's fine," you give Choso a reassuring grin, feeling blood rush to your cheeks as you stepped into the house. Choso nods, closing the door afterwards and follows you into the living room. "Where's Yuji?"

"He's in the game room with Kechizu and Eso," Choso replies, watching as you push your suitcase close to one of the sofas and he returns his attention to your figure. "Do you want to try my cream puffs?"

"Cream puffs?" you turn to him, raising a brow. You notice that he was wearing an apron, long sleeves rolled past his elbows, and hair tied back into his usual two high pony tails. He wore his usual aloof expression, but when it came to you, his expression seemed to soften.

Choso nods. "Yuji told me you were sleeping over this weekend, so I decided to try making cream puffs. I've only made three so far," he replies, directing you into the kitchen.

You follow him, smiling and becoming even more excited to try the dessert he prepared. "I would love to try some."

Choso grabs a plate with three cream puffs on the top as you followed him. He turns to you, gesturing you to take one. “This is my first time making them, so tell me how they are.”

You nod, taking the cream puff in the middle. You examined the dessert for a brief moment, it looked tasty of course and for Choso’s first time making them, it was amazing already. You smile at him before taking a decent bite out of the cream puff. You could taste buttery and lightly rich flavor, especially with the pastry’s cream.

“They’re amazing, Choso! You should definitely make some more,” your eyes brighten and your smile becomes wider as you take another bite of the cream puff. Choso was initially a great cook, and anything he made would turn out perfect.

“I’m really glad you like them,” Choso couldn’t help but grin at your reaction to the pastries.

Hearing you compliment him made him feel some sort of way he couldn’t describe. Maybe it was from all of the years spent working hard to make sure his siblings got what they needed to live a happy life. He never stopped to take care of himself, or done anything in his own time since he was always working or taking care of his brothers. Choso never complained or expressed his concerns, exhaustion or anything to his brothers, due to not wanting them to worry. And they always assumed he was just fine.

Choso decided to try one of the cream puffs next, surprised at how good they actually turned out. He was definitely going to make more and share with his brothers, and you, of course. He was glad that he took time off work today.

“I’ll make some more. You can join Yuji and the others upstairs,” Choso says, placing the plate down before returning to the rest of his baking materials to create more of the pastry.

“I can help— if you want,” you offer with a smile and he turns to face you again.

Choso contemplated, but he nods his head shortly afterwards. “Sure. Just put on an apron.”

You nod before walking over to the wooden drawer beneath the kitchen counter. You pulled it out before grabbing a simple white apron with a bunny sewed onto it. After lacing it around you and washing your hands, you joined Choso’s side.

As he was beginning to demonstrate on how to combine the pieces of the cream puff, your mind quickly went somewhere else. The idea of you being alone with Choso made your heart skip beats, and you could feel your face becoming hotter as you realize how close you were to him.

It felt as if you two were on a home cooking date. It was insane to think about such things, especially if you aren’t even dating— but you couldn’t help it at all.

“It’s quite simple and easy once you get the gist of it,” Choso remarks as he finishes creating his cream puff. He then hands you the piping bag with the cream filling and gestures you to fill the choux pastry prepared beforehand.

You take the piping bag into your own hands as Choso moves to the side, observing how you moved your hands. You were becoming nervous, feeling his gaze directly on you and you were definitely going to mess up.

“You got this. There’s no need to be anxious,” Choso assures, pressing a hand against your back to relieve some tension. "Here."

Choso stands behind of you, his build completely towering over you as he places his hands over yours. You didn’t move an inch as he begins guiding your hands with the piping bag to fill the choux pastry, and you could feel his hot breath lightly brush against your ear.

You could feel your heart pounding in your eardrums and you turn your head slightly, noticing how close his face was to yours. Everything about him was just so appealing, and you wish you could just kiss him in that moment.

“Got it?” Choso questions.

“Yeah.. I got it,” you reply with a nod as Choso removes his hands away from yours, but he still remained standing behind you as you picked up the cream puff that was just made.

You took a bite out of it, not noticing Choso was still there and turn around. “Choso?”

Choso tilts his head, noticing how some of the cream got on the side of your mouth. “You got some on your mouth,” he says and lifts his hand, using his thumb to brush off the cream. The gesture was completely unexpected and you swore your heart could leap out of your chest.

He was still so close to you, and you refrained from making any awkward or flustered expressions as he licks the cream off his thumb. You both stare at each other for a brief moment after that, not speaking until Choso initiates a step closer to you.

“Y/n, there’s something I want to ask you,” Choso begins and he reaches for your hand.

At that moment, alarms went off in your head and you’re internally panicking. This was one of the moments you’ve been dreaming of and waiting for, but you don’t even know how to react properly. You open your mouth, about to respond as he was leaning forward to grab your hand.

“Do you-“ Choso starts to say, but he was completely cut off when someone rushes down the stairs.

“Big bro, is Y/n here—?!” Yuji’s voice echoes from the stairs. Your eyes widen slightly as you drop the cream puff from your hand and quickly push Choso away when Yuji steps into the kitchen. “yet— oh, you are here! When did you get here?!”

You give Yuji a bright smile as you walk past Choso, patting your hands against your apron. “Been here for a little bit. Just decided to help Choso make some cream puffs, since you were busy playing video games,” you reply, furrowing your brows at Yuji.

Yuji slaps his hands together and slightly lowers his head. “Sorry, forgive me!”

“It’s fine. I got to eat some cream puffs though!”

“Whaat, big bro, are you still making some?!” Yuji asks, tilting his head to look at Choso who was picking up the cream puff you dropped.

“Yeah,” Choso nods, not giving you or Yuji a look before facing his back against the two of you. “I’ll make some more. You guys go have fun.”

“Great!” Yuji excitedly replies before returning his gaze back to you. “Come on, come on. Kechizu just got a new multiplayer game for all of us to try and play! We need a fourth player!”

You give Yuji a nod before he starts walking out of the kitchen. You remove the apron from your body and glance at Choso, who still had his back facing against you. You didn’t want to blame Yuji for ruining the moment, but you were curious on why Choso acted like that.

Well, it wasn’t like you could inquire about it since Yuji came back to drag you away. But it remained occupied in your head as you joined Yuji and his other two brothers in their video game.

Choso shortly joined after, bringing along a small plate of at least 10 cream puffs. He didn’t utter anything and just quietly sat on one of the bean bags while you, Yuji, Eso, and Kechizu all bickered loudly over the video game.

You glanced at him occasionally, and he had that same aloof expression while watching the four of you. The two of you would make short eye contact, but you’d always be the one to break away first. You felt flustered— embarrassed, especially because that moment in the kitchen earlier remained in your mind.

For the remainder of the evening, you avoided long eye contact with Choso. The atmosphere continued to be cheery, as Yuji and his other brothers were lightening the mood with their loud voices and enthusiasm. It got you distracted for a while.

When dinner time came around, Yuji suggested takeout instead so Choso didn’t have to cook, and Kechizu ordered a large family takeout platter from a local Japanese restaurant. You ended sitting next to Choso while you all were dining, and it was somewhat awkward. But you and Choso didn’t make it obvious, so there were no further complications.

Afterwards, the five of you gathered by the large TV in Yuji’s room and watched one of the Hunger Games movies— because Yuji wanted to. It was boring, since you’ve all seen the series countless of times but Yuji would never get bored of it.

And shortly enough, you all fall into a deep slumber.

It was late into the night now, and you happen to wake up several hours after everyone else had fallen asleep. The entire house was quiet, and you could hear the faint sounds of everyone sleeping, minus Eso’s snores.

You adjusted your eyes to the darkness around you, before getting up slowly. You were lying on Yuji's bed while Yuji was on the other side, hands and legs sprawled out. Kechizu and Eso were sleeping on Yuji's couch by the TV, and Choso was sleeping while sitting up on one of the bean bags.

Ignoring your thoughts, you close your eyes in order to return to sleep. But no matter what, you just couldn’t. After tossing and turning to find a comfortable position, you decided to get up for a glass of water.

You leave Yuji’s bed and slip out the room and quietly walk down the stairs. You read the clock by the door, and it was about 2:30 in the morning. You enter the kitchen, walking towards the fridge and opening it before grabbing a cold water bottle.

The image of Choso popped in your head again, and you could only let out a sigh. Who knew what was going to happen now? Was it going to be awkward— or would you two act as if nothing’s happened? You quickly open the lid of the bottle before gulping down half of the liquid. You figured if you didn’t act awkward, and as if nothing happened, then the two of you would be fine.

“Y/n?”

Choso calling out to you immediately causes you to jump slightly from your spot, and you turn to him with a surprised expression before glaring. “Please don’t scare me like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Choso replies, stepping further into the kitchen. Even though it was dark, you could still see his silhouette and as he went closer, you were able to see his face. “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head, putting the water bottle in your hand down on the kitchen counter. “I guess I’m still energetic from earlier— when we were playing the games,” you reply a lie, not wanting to admit that he was the reason why you couldn’t sleep.

Choso went silent for a moment, until he approached you closer. “Can we talk about what happened before that?”

“H-Huh? Before that?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” Choso continues, now standing directly in front of you. His dark eyes pierced into yours, and your heart rate began pacing fast again. “Y/n, how do you feel about me?”

“I..” it took you several moments to even utter something, as you were completely astonished from his blunt question. He was so close to you, watching how you reacted while desperately waiting for an answer. But before you could even continue your answer, Choso sighs softly.

“I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. You don’t have to answer my question if you aren’t comfortable,” Choso starts backing away, lifting an hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “Just forget I asked and we can just act as if nothing happened.”

Choso turns around, starting to walk out. You’re uncertain of what to do, but your body responds before your brain could and you follow him. You quickly wrap your arms around his waist and press your face against his broad back.

“I like you, Choso,” you murmur, but enough for him to hear clearly.

There was a brief pause before Choso turns around to face you. At that moment, you couldn’t describe how you felt— you were just all over the place since you basically confessed. His eyes were slightly wide, but he looked relieved and a smile forms on his lips.

Choso doesn’t reply and only pulls you forward in order to press his lips against yours. With no hesitation, you return the kiss as your hands grip his shirt. The moment was surreal, and even it if was just a dream, you wanted to feel the moment.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to kiss you,” Choso speaks once he pulls away, keeping his lips near yours. “Been waiting too long.”

“Me too.. Been wanting you ever since we met, Choso,” you reply, nearly unable to meet his gaze until he kisses you once again.

“I’ve been bad. So fucking bad,” Choso continues as he pulls away again, gently pushing you back against the wall before smashing his lips onto yours more passionately. You let out a soft moan into his mouth as you feel his body press against yours. Choso places a hand on your hip, while the other moves to hold your jaw. He pulls away again, “I was always thinking about you. Always thinking about how I could make you mine. I even changed my shifts so that I can come home early to see you whenever you visited.”

“C-Choso..”

You pull Choso back to kiss him again, sparing him no time to continue rambling about his feelings but it was very much mutual. The moment was tensed with passion, and you both quickly became addicted to one another.

Choso moves his lips to your cheek, down to pepper kisses on your jaw and then along your neck. You bite your lower lip, unable to refrain the arousal you were receiving from him.

“W-Want you s’bad.. Choso..” you mutter with a short whimper, a hand going up to grasp his hair that was becoming loose. “Have always wanted to feel your kisses.. and your touch.”

Choso grits his teeth. Goodness, you were too cute. He still honestly couldn’t believe that you reciprocated his feelings. You were always with Yuji, laughing snd smiling— always having a good time. Choso, like many others, found it easy to believe that you were infatuated with Yuji.

“Damn it. You make me want to ruin you,” Choso quietly says before he gently takes your hands into his. “Come on.”

He leads you back up the stairs and pass Yuji’s room, where everyone else remains dead asleep, and quietly into his room down the hall. When you both enter inside, he quickly shuts the door before pulling you close for a deep kiss.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of your kissing and muffled noises, and Choso couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from you. He walks you back towards his bed and pushes you down, lips still against yours.

You tug Choso’s shirt as his body hovers over you. He was showering you with kisses all over your face and body, touching you like how you’ve always imagined him doing. “Fuck.. touch me more,” you coo as Choso moves to kiss your jaw.

“Where do you want me to touch you?” Choso asks, brushing his hand over your thigh.

“I-I don’t know.. everywhere-“ you reply, quite uncertain. You were practically new to this but no matter where Choso touched, he was able to pleasure you either way.

“You have to be more specific so I don’t make you uncomfortable,” Choso frowns slightly, lessening his touch on your inner thigh which makes you squirm. He acknowledged that you were inexperienced and timid, but he remained patient. “Do you want to show me instead?”

You nod, guiding his hand near your inner thighs. He understood quite frankly, seeing how much of a mess you already were under him. Choso gives you another kiss, but on the forehead before rubbing his hand against your inner thigh, causing you to tremble slightly.

It all was causing you to soak your panties, and you guide Choso’s hand that was on your thigh underneath the shorts you were wearing. You had no idea what came over you, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. Even Choso was surprised with your gesture but he didn’t stop.

You felt the tip of Choso’s fingers rub against your wet folds and you moan softly as a response. “You’re so wet..” Choso comments quietly, proceeding to rub two of his fingers against you before pushing them in.

The sensation of his fingers spreading you causes you to gasp and you return your hand to grip his shirt. Choso doesn’t move his fingers, instead he waits for you to adjust to them.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks next but you quickly shake your head.

“K-Keep going..” you murmur, and Choso could feel your walls clench around his two fingers.

Choso could feel blood rush to his already hardened dick, and he starts pumping his fingers in an out of you at steady pace. He was still able to receive soft moans from you, and you held him close as he gradually starts increasing his pace.

Shortly after, he slips off your shorts and underwear, spreading your legs apart to thrust his fingers deeper. You hold back your louder moans, as it was still late into the night and you can’t wake the others up.

Choso peppers kisses against your chest before moving down for your crotch area. He gives you a glance and you nod before he latches his mouth against your clit and slowly began moving the same fingers in and out of you. Your moans start to penetrate through your sealed lips, and your hand grips Choso’s hair.

His circles his tongue around your clit slowly and lazily, and curled his fingers to rub your g-spot. “Always thinking about this pussy. So, so beautiful,” he comments.

You moan as a response, indicating that he was pleasuring you too well. You have never felt his sensation before, but you knew damn well that it was addicting. You were practically craving for more now that you know the feeling, especially from Choso. The way your body reacted to his touch caused him to increase his pace, and his eyes raise to meet yours as he fucks your pussy with his mouth and fingers.

“Ohh, fuck yes. That feels- s’good,” your voice breaks at how deep and fast his fingers thrusts into you, making your back arch. It felt so different from your own fingers and you were quickly reaching your orgasm.

“You close, baby?” Choso questions, pulling his lips away but still thrusting his fingers. You give him a nod, being unable to properly respond with words. His lips meets yours once again, and the two of you share a rough, passionate kiss.

Choso’s fingers began thrusting quicker, to the point the wet squelching noises of your pussy began resonating the room. He covers your mouth with his as your moans kept coming out and he knew you were reaching your high.

He pulls away, going back down to flick his tongue against your clit. At that moment, the two of you couldn’t care less at who was hearing you. Both of your hands grip the bed sheet as you release over his mouth and fingers, a loud mewl following after.

Choso licks his mouth clean, before licking the other wet areas of your body where you cum got on. He kisses you, pressing his tongue against yours and you two share a sloppy kiss before he leans back to stand up. He was so goddamn hard, and you could even see the tent in his pants. Choso was so pussy drunk, and so desperately wanting to shove his cock into your virgin pussy.

“Please.. Choso..” you whimper, spreading your legs wider for him. “I need your cock in me..”

Something snapped in Choso as you said that and he couldn’t wait any longer now— seeing how your pussy was waiting for him. Choso pushes his pants and boxers down, freeing his throbbing hard cock. Your eyes watch as he pumps his dick a few times with pre-cum leaking out and he leans over to open a drawer next to his bed.

He grabs a condom kept inside and quickly opens it, slipping it on his cock. “This okay, baby? Are you ready?” he asks and you only nod again before he aligns himself against your wet entrance.

Your lips tremble as you feel the tip of Choso’s cock push into you slowly. It felt weird, and your reaction immediately causes him to stop moving. “Are you uncomfortable?” he asks again.

“N-No.. I’m okay,” you reassure, grabbing his forearms that were propping your thighs. His tip was already stretching you out, and you couldn’t imagine his entire length in you just yet.

Choso nods before slowly pushing his cock in all the way. You both let out a gasp, and Choso could feel your tight walls clenching so hard around him. It hurt, and you could feel tears reaching your eyes. He starts rocking his hips sensually, allowing you to adjust to him and the feeling.

“You okay?” Choso asks again, leaning down to kiss your cheek. He notices your welled tears, wiping away the ones that were poking out.

“Y-Yes..” you reply as your hands interlock with his, feeling his cock rub your walls so well. “It hurts..”

“I know, baby. Do you want me to stop?” Choso whispers, kissing away your tears that streamed down the side of your face.

“No, no. It’s okay. It feels good too..” You shake your head, eyes shutting as you adjust yourself to the feeling. “Faster..”

Choso was quite appalled but he didn’t decline your request. He starts thrusting faster, moving your hands over your head and grunting lowly at your tightness. It aroused Choso to know that he was the first, your first and how you practically wanted him to be the first.

Your moans fall out each thrust he gives, and his pace starts fastening as you wrap your legs around his waist. Choso was so deep into you, wrecking your walls and turning you into a sex lover. You never thought it would feel this great, and you understood why so many people were addicted to it. Choso then kept his mouth on yours as he fucked you faster, balls slapping against your pussy and you could feel him drill his cock deeper and deeper.

"Mmh- fuck!" you mewl out as Choso pulls his lips away, pounding you in the position.

"I knew I'd love this pussy of yours," Choso grunts, pulling his cock out before guiding your body over so that you'd lay on your belly. He places his hands on your hips, pushing them back against his and sliding back into your aching hole.

"S-So deep!" you cry out, feeling his entire length sink deeper into your pussy.

Choso grips onto your hips as he thrusts his cock quickly into you, his hips slamming against your ass cheeks. You bury your face in the sheets of his bed, refraining your erotic moans to echo the entire room. But it just felt too good- his cock and this position that allowed his cock to make him feel so fucking deep in you.

You throw your head back slightly as your hands move underneath your chest to prop up. Choso leans forward, eyes nearly shutting because of how good your pussy felt around him. He was nearly reaching his orgasm and he knew you were close again too.

"'m so close- Choso!" you utter through your moans, more pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Me too, angel. Fuck," Choso groans, groping your ass to the point his hands could leave a print.

A knot forms in your stomach when Choso's cock rubs against your g-spot each deepening thrust and your head drops to the mattress as your moans uncontrollably escape your mouth and bounce off the walls of his room.

"Baby- shit. You gotta lower your voice," Choso reminds, groaning as your pussy clenches his cock again.

"I-I know.. But I can't.." you reply, covering your mouth with a hand.

Honestly, Choso found it slightly amusing, yet cute about how you were trying to keep quiet but couldn't. And even though he was the one to tell you to lower your voice, he wanted to pound into you faster, and deeper- and make more moans escape past your pretty lips.

“C-Cumming..” you utter beneath your hand covering your mouth, and Choso hastily slips his cock as you came all over him.

You’ve never came this much before— it was appalling to see how much you can cum. Your mind was dizzying and fogging up, and you could feel Choso pull his cock out. He was panting heavily, hands still holding your hips before he uses one to slip off the condom filled with his cum.

Yet, he was still hard.

“Again,” you say, turning yourself around and pulling him close by placing your hands on his nape. “Wanna ride you, Choso..”

Choso didn’t expect you to want to keep going, but he couldn’t resist the urge of wanting to see you ride him. After you situate yourself on Choso’s lap with his guide, he rests your hands on his shoulders. You bite your lower lip, quite conflicted because you didn’t even know how to ride a dick properly.

“Don’t worry. I’ll guide you,” Choso reassures, caressing the side of your face before leaning towards the drawer to grab another condom.

But you stop him and shake your head. “No protection.. it’s okay.”

Choso raises a brow. “You sure, baby? It’s risky without it.”

“It’s okay.. promise. I trust you.”

Choso’s heart ached at the way you softly spoke of how you trust him, and he nods his head before returning his hands to the side of your hips. He props you up with his strength before pressing the tip of his cock at the entrance of your swollen pussy.

He gives you a final look before guiding your body down, and his raw cock pushes pass your folds. You both moan in unison as Choso’s entire length fits into you perfectly. The bare skin of his cock in you was entirely different from when the condom was on, and Choso could also feel how different your insides were.

Choso starts guiding your hips up and down on his cock, and you’re both moaning, staring at each other with affection and lust. Your grip on Choso’s shoulders tighten as he indirectly allows you to bounce by yourself, allowing you to experience.

You’re on your heels as you bounce on his throbbing cock, moaning and mumbling his name as you’re clenching him whenever you slide your hips upward. Choso’s watching intently, low grunts increasing as he feels your pussy taking him just as he’s always imagined.

“You’re doing so fucking good, angel. Fuck- keep riding me like that,” Choso praises, his head leaning back as you start bouncing faster. You’re literally uncertain whether or not you’re moving correctly, but with the guide of Choso’s hands and his reaction, you assumed you were doing good.

You could feel the tip of his cock smack the entrance of your womb whenever you sink his entire length deeper into you, and you’re looking at him for more direction since you still clearly didn’t know what else to do. Choso used his hands to guide your hips to grind forward on his dick, and he looks at you.

“Just like this, baby.”

You take what Choso guided you to do in mind and then action, seemingly noting that he enjoyed those certain movements. Now, he’s the one moaning louder, whimpering lowly and muttering how amazing your pussy was.

He initially starts lunging his hips up as your bounces on his cock become more erratic, and he cups your ass. “C-Choso! Your cock- feels so, so good,” you could only utter as your legs start trembling, and you’re barely unable to keep yourself up.

“Yeah? I’m all yours now, baby- I’ll give this cock to you whenever and wherever you want,” Choso groans, gently tightening his grip on your ass as he starts controlling his thrusts up into you again. “Fuck- let me be your boyfriend. Please, angel.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close for a deep kiss.

Before Choso could reach his final orgasm, he quickly pulls you off him and his cum shoots all over the floor of his room. You both pull away from the kiss, panting heavier and fall back against the bed.

Choso stares up at his ceiling, taking in what just happened. Hearing your pacing heartbeat and heavy pants, he lifts a hand to gently rub your back.

“You okay?” he inquires.

“Mhm..” you reply, snuggling yourself close to him.

Choso chuckles softly, more elated with the fact that you were now his, and he was yours. He’s never necessarily been in an official relationship, besides from the experiences of blind dates or one night stands. He’s met a few nice girls, but he wasn’t into them the way he was into you. When he first met you, he was originally happy to know that his younger brother had a good friend. But as you often came around, he started to notice the little things about you. And one day, he just discovered how deeply he was falling for you.

He was always occupied with his job and taking care of his siblings that he subsequently forgot about his own health and care. But you were there— making sure he had his dinners, chatting with him about his day, making Yuji and the other two help clean up the house so he didn’t have to. And in order to see you often, Choso started sending in requests about changing his schedule to the main office. It took a few months, but with how diligently he worked, he was granted the schedule change. And he was so grateful, because it allowed him to spend more time with you— even if you were there for Yuji.

But now, he knows your feelings for him and it was all that mattered. Tonight, and possibly for the rest of his life, he’s the happiest man in the world.

"Just want to give his shit back. Passing it on to you so I won't have to see him and blondie going at it in your breakroom." You watched the man crack a smile before speaking again.

"S'all you’re gonna do?" He knew your answer by the way you tore your eyes off of him and focused them on the box in your lap instead. Slightly slumping down in your chair as if you were a child in trouble trying to evade the scrutinizing gaze of a parent “Oh, don’t tell me you’re just gonna let bygones be bygones and let him get away with it scott free.”

His tone made you feel like your entire situation was almost comical. You looked back up and narrowed your eyes at the man. Scanning his face and watching the scar on his lip twitch when the corner turned up in a smirk.

“Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Don’t have to be all formal now, call me Toji.”

“Okay, what exactly are you implying, Toji?” he sighed before standing up from his desk and fixing his name plate, smirk never falling from his lips and eyes never leaving yours.

“I know he is my employee, but i’m not really… fond of him either. And you’re too pretty of a girl to just let him get away with cheating. It’d make you feel better to hurt ‘em a little bit. Get a little revenge.”

You broke away eye contact from him again to look around his office. Taking note of how sparsely decorated the area was as you pondered and tried to avoid his eyes. It wasn’t the most mature or logical decision, but he was right. It would make you feel better to make him hurt just a little bit. “And how exactly might I go about that?”

Toji laughed a little as he walked around the desk, taking the box out of your lap and placing it on the floor before settling himself behind you. The sweet tobacco scent of his cologne invaded your nostrils as he got closer to you, making his presence feel almost suffocating.

“Y’know what would really get him?” His voice sounded as if it were laced with a honeyed sweetness. The sound surrounding you and ringing around in your ears. He shifted his feet, but you still felt the heat radiating off of him and onto your back.

“What?”You felt him grow closer. Leaning down behind you. So close that you could feel his breath fan against your skin.

“Fuckin’ his boss.”

The lewd suggestion tickled the shell of your ear. Your eyes widening and mouth going dry once you realized exactly what he was proposing to you. You opened your mouth to protest. To tell him how absolutely ridiculous that was, but your words fell short. Closing your mouth again to look down and stare at the indentions the corners of the cardboard box had left in your skin.

You couldn’t say that you hadn’t let your eyes linger a little too long at Toji Fushiguro. Always noticing how easy he was on the eyes when your ex would make you tag along to work events. How his suits would perfectly contour to his body. Showing off his bulging muscles through the fabric. How he seemed to tower over you and everyone else with his height and domineering presence. How your gazes would linger a little too long on each other and how his fingertips would “accidentally” graze your hips when passing you.

You were taken away from your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing up and down your jaw. His touch soft, contrasting the rough calluses that lined his fingers. You also realized he had now moved directly in front of you and you were eye-level with his crotch.

“What’ll it be, sweetness?” The tip of his thumb travelled up to your bottom lip, smearing some of your lipgloss. “Y’gonna let me help you get back at him?”

You slowly looked up at him and nodded your head, still not trusting any words to come out of your mouth. He smiled down at you, removing the hand on your chin to pet your head and using his other to unbutton his slacks.

“Gonna make you feel so good, you’ll forget allllll about your little ex-boyfriend.”

You were still looking up at him dumbly as he freed heavy cock from the confines of his pants, subconsciously parting your lips and slightly sticking out your tongue at the sight of him. Relishing in the way he looked at you and the noises he made once his cock makes contact with your awaiting tongue.

“Already so good and fuckin’ obedient. Did he teach you that?” You shake your head and he cackles. Easing his way into your throat. “So you’re just naturally a whore, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, not even hard enough to sting, and moves from petting your head to gripping your hair once you take him all the way into your mouth. Testing your limits and pushing his way past the tight ring of muscle in the back of your throat, loving the way you choke and sputter around him. “Takin’ me so good. Bet that motherfucker couldn’t properly stuff your throat.”

Toji’s right- he couldn’t. He also isn’t quite as big as Toji is either, in both length and girth. It also seems that the man in front of you didn’t learn to fuck from porn like your ex did. Only pushing your limits a little bit at a time and not throatfucking you from the get-go. Also making sure you’re not suffocating on him for too long.

You began to move your tongue over the vein that ran on the underside of his cock, watching in satisfaction as he throws his head back and groans. Doing it again and again and watching his face contort in pleasure.

“Shit, baby, got the sweetest fuckin’ mouth.” His voice is huskier now, almost breathy. You watch as sweat begins to lightly bead across his forehead and his hands come off of you to loosen his tie around his collar. The air becoming too thick and hot for him. You suck him off with much more passion as you get used to his size. Bobbing your head up and down his length and occasionally pulling yourself off to lick on the sensitive skin around his balls. Not paying much mind to the spit that has run from your mouth and covered the bottom half of your face.

“That’s it- hah- fuck yeah… that’s it. Gonna cum down that pretty fuckin’ throat” You kept up your ministrations, using your hand to lightly squeeze his balls as you took his full length down your throat once more. Listening as Toji’s pants became progressively more and more uneven. Only taking a few more short moments before his abs tighten and he takes in a deep inhale as he shoots his load down your throat. His leg twitching as the coil in his belly snaps. Pulling off of him to stick out your tongue and show him that you swallowed it all.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” He gripped your chin tightly and you nodded your head dumbly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. He smiled and gestured for you to walk over to the plush, black couch he kept in his office. A guiding hand resting on your lower back as he layed you down on your stomach. He took his time running his hands from your calves all the way up to your ass, like he was trying to memorize every dip in your skin. Once he reached the hem of your skirt, he flipped it up. Gently running the palms of his hands over the smooth skin and giving the right cheek a harsh slap and soothing the sting with the very same hand that inflicted it.

“Suckin’ dick make you this wet?” Your slick had soiled your panties, smearing onto your thighs. His fingers lightly ran across the soaked fabric. You felt the couch dip under his weight as he settled behind you, feeling the fabric of his haphazardly pulled down pants and the heat of whatever skin that was exposed press into you.

“Sucking yours does.” you gasp as he pushes your panties to the side to make contact with your swollen clit. The cool air of his office hitting your soaked center makes you shiver. “You’re gentler than I thought you’d be.”

“Oh baby,” He pauses, taking his hands off of you to maneuver himself around, “you haven’t had the worst yet.”

You’re comfused until you feel the tip of his cock prodding your entrance and begin to push in. Your walls greedily sucking him in even though it felt as if he was splitting you in two.

“Tight as a fuckin’ virgin, y’gotta open up for me, girl.” His fingers rub tight circles on your clit. Using that to his advantage to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into you until he’s bottomed out. Your hips arching into him as any remnants of pain begin to wash away and are overtaken with white-hot pleasure. His hands find purchase on your hips as his thrusts begin to speed up. Going harder into you and somehow hitting you deeper each time, causing tears to spring in corners of your eyes.

“Already cryin’ on my cock and we’ve barely even started? Slut can’t handle it?” He slaps your ass again, not caring if it stings. You furiously shake your head as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. Trying your hardest to match his brutal pace with your own hips. “Oh, you think you can take control now, huh? I’d watch it, little girl.”

At first you think he pushes your face into the couch with his hand. That’s until you realize that both his hands are still on your hips and it’s actually his foot that’s found its place on the back of your head as he continues to fuck the memory of your ex out of you. Your pussy clenching down on him at the mere thought of the position.

“Like being treated like a whore don’t you? Shitty man couldn’t do it like I can.” You couldn’t respond back even if you tried. Too caught up in the feeling of being stuffed full by the most skilled man you’ve ever fucked and biggest cock you’ve ever taken. Writhing under him as the pleasure of his tip repeatedly hitting your spot over and over again was becoming almost too much.

Toji must’ve felt the way your pussy began to tighten around him or how your moans were so loud the couch wasn’t muffling them well anymore. His hand snaked around your hip and back down to your clit to rub shapes on it, bringing your closer to your peak.

“That’s right, cum on this cock baby. Hah- cum all over my fuckin’ cock.” He spoke to you through gritted teeth and the sound went straight to your core. It wasn’t long after that your back slipped into a deeper arch and your cunt clenched down on him even harder. A white ring of cream forming around the base of his dick as he worked you through your orgasm and worked himself closer to his.

“Such a good girl. You’re gonna take my cum, yeah? Gonna let me fill you up?” You nodded a quick yes, pussy still quaking from your orgasm. the only thing keeping your hips from collapsing into the couch being the vice grip of his strong hands.

The foot pressed into your head was removed and replaced by his right hand gripping your hair and pulling you up to meet his face. Looking him in the eyes for the first time since he started fucking you and seeing the beast of a man he’s become. Pupils blown, hair messy, and face sweaty as his grunts get louder, more aggressive.

“So pretty baby. You’re my good, pretty girl, right? C’mon, daddy a kiss when he cums. You’ve been so. fucking. good.” The last of his words were punctuated by rough thrusts into your heat. His heavy balls slapping against your clit so hard it was making you jump. You craned your head back even more for your lips to meet his in a sloppy, lust-filled kiss as he lets out a final rough grunt into your mouth. The familiar warmth flooding your pussy as his thrusts begin to let up.

He’s gentle with you for the first time in a while, gently resting your head back down to the couch before slowly pulling his softening dick out, tucking it back into his underwear, and smoothing your skirt back down. Rubbing a hand over the arch of your back and letting you rest on his couch as he pulls off your soiled panties and pockets them for himself. Also noticing a patch of your slick that has soiled the front of his pants and smiling as a mix of both of your releases begin to trickle out of your spent hole. Using two of his fingers to push it back in. The room is quiet for the first time in a long while. Only sound being the oscillating box fan in the corner of the room. It says quiet for a while, until you break the silence.

“Don’t even think I can remember the fucker’s name anymore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turn over onto your back to face him, watching closely as he fixes his suit to the best of his ability. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you again, if you’d like.”

He turns to face you, smirking again, “Can’t say I’d hate that.”

It’s your turn to smirk at him before letting your head roll over and rest again. Consumed with the thoughts of how that was definitely the best revenge plan you ever participated in.

You’re almost drifting off until that same thought wakes you up again. Sitting up to look at Toji.

“Wait, how was any of that a revenge ploy if he didn’t even see it?” Toji smirks, fixing his tie. Not even a second later you hear a knock on his door before Toji gives the visitor permission to enter.

“You wanted to see m-“ Your ex stops mid-sentence once he sees you lounging on his employer’s couch with his cum leaking out of you. “Wait, what is she doing here?”

“Baby brought your shit by.” Toji kicks the box towards him as he pulls your panties out of his back pocket and swinging them around his index finger. “Anything else you need? Or do you just wanna watch me fuck your ex-girl again?”

Jake was nice enough to take care of closing the cafe so you and Heeseung could slip away undetected. You didn’t want to risk lingering in the area at the nearest bus stop, so you called an Uber to his place instead. The ride to Heeseung’s apartment was silent, and you stared out the window the entirety of the time, running back what had just happened in your head. Part of you wished you had interfered and repaid his ex tenfold for that slap, but you knew it wasn’t your place. 

It wasn’t until Heeseung uncurled your tight fist and laced his fingers through yours that you realized the amount of tension whirring throughout your body and the unspoken affection in his touch. 

What— what is he doing?

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised he recently broke up with someone. It had been several months since you’d broken up with your ex, so you understood the stage that he was currently in, but everyone experienced things differently. Despite how he cut her off back at the cafe, were there any residual feelings he kept hidden for her? It had only been just over three months, after all, and who knew how long they were together for. 

But it’s not like you two were together in the first place, so why did it matter so much to you?

You willed yourself to stay calm.

“I feel like I owe you an explanation,” Heeseung said suddenly. 

“You don’t.”

“As your friend, I do.”

Friend, You glanced at your intertwined hands. 

Silence followed.

It turns out there were more things to talk about than you both wanted to. 

The Uber came to a stop, and you were about to untangle your hand from Heeseung’s until he opened the door and tugged you out his side. The building's unassuming facade was a blur as he bypassed the lobby elevators and took you up flights of stairs in a rush, presumably to avoid any awkward moments of silence with you at all costs. Plus, it must’ve given him a reason to hold on tight to you, and you let him. 

You’re not slick, Heeseung… then again, neither am I. 

By the time you arrived at his apartment, you were panting slightly and most definitely envious that Heeseung didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by scaling those stairs. He slowed down once he realized he’d been rushing you, and you were grateful. 

“Sorry. Come in,” He finally let go of your hand and shut the door behind you. His touch left your hand tingling. 

The lights flickered on to reveal a cozy kitchenette and quaint living room; the whole apartment smelled just like warm sugar, and you felt slightly more at ease despite the tension in the air. 

You thought Heeseung was going to get straight to the point, but instead, he turned to you, “Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to drink?”

He always took care of you in that manner. 

“I’m actually not even that hungry,” You admitted, propping your backpack up against the wall. 

“Same. Well, let me make us some tea, at least. Oh, but you had tea already,” Heeseung paused, “If you’d like to wash up in the meantime, I can lend you some clothes. I know it’s been a long day, and it’s pretty late. You can stay the night if you’d like.”

Your heart rate picked up, “Stay the night?”

“Only if you want to. If not, I’ll accompany you home in an Uber when you leave, I don’t trust ridesharing services at later hours.”

Now it went from just having dinner to staying the night. 

Heeseung’s a man, and you would’ve been able to spot his agenda from a mile away, but his intentions weren’t what stumped you. He could be flirty when he wanted to be, but he wasn’t single-minded or disrespectful, so you knew he wouldn’t try anything without your permission. 

It was the fact that he was proposing it in the first place, despite everything that had just happened.

“Um,” You took in the room as if in thought, eyes eventually landing back on him.

Heeseung straightened up and patiently inclined his chin; he didn’t appear overly eager or aloof as he waited for your answer. Rather, his expression appeared sensitive, as though he was still reeling from the past hour. 

Perhaps he actually did want your company for comfort. 

“I should probably stay since it’s getting late,” You decided. 

I guess we’ll have a friendly sleepover. 

His eyes softened, “Alright, you‘ve got my room to yourself. Let’s get you some clothes.”

You tentatively followed Heeseung into his bedroom, feeling extremely out of place. Still, you figured this would be an interesting experience. 

Unbeknownst to Heeseung, you covered up a giggle when you spotted a shelf collection of elegantly displayed wands. 

Really, he didn’t have a whole lot of stuff except for piles of comics scattered about, a fairly high-tech-looking workspace— which was to be expected— and a vintage record player with a vinyl collection you’d love to peruse some time… that is, if he ever invited you back. You rubbed your arm and tried not to focus on the dwindling time you had left with Heeseung. 

It was actually the size of his bed that took you by surprise— it was modern and large, even roomier than yours. 

The thought of him sharing it with someone annoyed you to no end, for some reason. 

While you took a gander about his room, Heeseung gathered several items of clothing from his drawers, all were either a dark wash of black or gray, save for a fluffy white pair of socks with a tag on them.

“Here's a bag for your laundry, and these are some sweatpants that don’t fit me anymore, but they’re adjustable. Also, there’s a shirt; the fuzzy socks I never wore. They were a secret Santa gift I got from Jake last year. I’ll shower after you. No rush.”

“Thanks,” you took the pile of clothes and slowly stepped backwards into the bathroom. 

“Okay,” Heeseung left around the corner immediately, making you laugh despite the heaviness that weighed down your heart. 

There was no way three months ago you could’ve predicted you’d be at Heeseung’s place under such shitty circumstances, but being able to advantage of his hot water made things slightly better in that moment… slightly.

As the hot water soaked into your hair, you reached for the only bottle of product on the edge of the tub and glanced at the label. God, he would use a three-in-one shower product, but at least it was a nice lavender scent. 

Excitement nearly overtook you when you realized it was the lavender scent. 

While you lathered down with it, suddenly, the titillating image of a damp-haired Heeseung flashed behind your eyes.

You imagined him pulling you back against his bare chest and spreading the creamy pastel purple substance all over your breasts from behind, massaging it into your skin until bubbles spilled over his thick fingers and down your ribs.

Suddenly you felt dizzy, your nipples hardening at the intrusive thought. 

It was more than easy to picture him pressing you up against the damp tile walls and running his hands across all your sweet spots, especially dipping his fingers between your legs to draw lazy circles there, taking his time with you like you knew he would. 

Ah, the hallucinations are already starting. Great. 

Definitely helped with ensuring you felt mentally stable before talking to Heeseung about his deep past and trying to figure out your feelings towards one another. 

Maybe you should eat something or at least ask if he had some alcohol stashed away somewhere.  

Having nearly lost track of time, you rinsed fast and shut off the water. Taking care not to slip, you emerged from the lavender-scented steam and quickly dried off over the soft bathroom mat.

It dawned on you that you had no extra underwear. You stared at your plastic bag of dirty clothes that you kicked under Heeseung’s sink for the time being.  

Well, you’d just have to make this work. 

You rolled the cuffs and waistband of Heeseung’s grey sweatpants as much as you could without it looking dumb and then slipped his dark-wash long-sleeve over your head. Lastly, you ripped off the tag on the fuzzy socks and tugged them on, taking a last look at yourself through the foggy mirror. 

Felt kinda airy down there, but at least you were clean and comfy. It wasn’t much different from the clothes you threw on while at home.

You gave your soaked hair strands another good squeeze before hanging up your towel and heading into the living room to let Heeseung know you were finished. 

Just by the rich aroma in the air, you could tell right away he had cooked something. His eyes grew slightly when he saw you, and he had just transferred ramen into a bowl, by the looks of it. 

Secretly your mouth watered, and you almost felt guilty that you’d just fantasized about this sweet boy in his own shower not a moment ago.

“Sorry, it’s nothing special, but I made something for you anyway. Still, don’t feel obligated to eat it, just know that it wasn’t my ideal first meal to make for you,” Heeseung set it on the counter with a set of utensils, a glass of water, and all the while, he’d hardly blinked since laying eyes on you. 

You shuffled forward and pulled up a stool, “Actually, I was getting hungry all of a sudden, and you read my mind. Thanks.”

Heeseung seemed to find your appearance enthralling because he failed to answer in a timely manner, “Sure, I’ll be quick.”

He left the room, and despite feeling incredibly self-conscious, you devoured that bowl of steaming ramen. Something about eating it late at night just made it ten times tastier, especially after such a bizarre day. It warmed you up for the time being until you set down your utensils and downed your water. With a full belly, you stood up and did your due diligence by giving the dishes a good scrub over the sink and leaving them out to dry on the rack. 

Exhaustion was quick to hit you like a truck, and the temperature suddenly dropped in the room, a chill running across your skin. The anxiety of speaking with Heeseung must’ve settled in your bones. 

I probably should’ve asked for a hoodie or something. Also, putting off our inevitable conversation isn’t helping my restlessness either.

Cautiously, you padded into his room and stood in the doorway, considering if you should look in his closet for a jacket. It wasn’t ideal for you to trespass and sift though his things, though.

With chattering teeth, you surveyed the thick duvet and inviting pillows on his bed. The sound of the shower running was still audible, so you hastily slid under the soft sheets and curled up onto your side with a shiver. It was so much warmer underneath, and the sheets smelled nice like he’d just washed them.

If he asks, I’ll just tell him I was about to freeze to death and I didn’t want to rummage through his belongings. 

Feeling a tiredness wash over you from the day, you pulled the duvet up to your chin and momentarily closed your eyes. 

Behind your eyelids, you somehow noticed the lights turning off and slowly awoke from your nap. You fought to stay awake and laid eyes on Heeseung’s back illuminated by moonlight, just before he passed through the doorway into the living room. 

“Heeseung…” You called out groggily, “Wait, we need to talk….”

Heeseung looked over his shoulder, “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“I’m awake,” You insisted, despite the heaviness weighing your eyelids down.

“Mhm. I’m glad you made yourself comfortable,” He teased, approaching you with his hands in his pockets. 

“You left me no choice, I was cold….” 

As you gradually sat up in bed, Heeseung clicked on the bedside lamp and took a seat on the edge. You noted his unexpected appearance; he wore black sweatpants and a vintage, dark gray long-sleeve with some sort of gothic script writing across it that you couldn’t make out in the dim lighting. His hair was damp and messy compared to the tame way he always wore it in class. The guy would look this good right out of the shower.

You bit your lip as you were reminded of your fantasy of him but nearly jumped when Heeseung slid the tips of his fingers over yours, “You’re warm now.”

“Geez— you’re not,” His skin felt like ice. He had to have taken a cold shower. 

Heeseung was quick to retract them and lean back on his palms with a smirk, “Thought it’d wake you up.”

“It did,” Mindlessly, your hand inched across the sheets and slid under his own just to feel him again.

For several seconds, all you could hear was your heartbeat, and you tried to interpret the restraint behind his gaze.

Heeseung broke the silence, “Are we gonna talk?”

“Yeah,” You nodded.

“Okay. We can start wherever you’d like,” Heeseung slowly withdrew his hand.

You blinked, then sat back against the headboard. You looked up at the ceiling in thought but still felt his eyes on you. “Hm…”

Just treat it like a sleepover night, like you’re interviewing and asking your best friend to spill their darkest deepest secrets when you just can’t sleep. 

“So, how long were you together with your ex?” You supposed you didn’t want to beat around the bush if he was willing to share. 

Heeseung glanced at the carpet, “I broke up with my ex at the beginning of the semester, but we've been together for about five years. I was a little younger than I should’ve been when we first started dating in high school, but we’ve known each other since we were kids. Back then, I thought things would end up alright between us.”

Your stomach dropped at the connotation of their relationship, and the distaste you felt towards his ex only grew. 

“What exactly happened that led you to break up with her?”

He leaned onto his knees and folded his hands together, “She was also my manager at my old serving job— her family owns this restaurant group. I… caught her in the back with a new hire. It pushed me over the edge, but I had to keep my job for a few weeks to make rent. I eventually quit since things were already building up to it.”

“That’s… awful. I’m so sorry.” 

“After knowing her for so long, I think I saw it coming from her, but it still shocked me. As you can tell, she’s not someone who makes it easy for you to go against her wishes, but I’ve made things very clear with her.”

“Yeah,” You pursed your lips, “Was she always this way?”

“No, actually. She changed at some point when we got older. I cared for her when we were younger, but I can’t remember the exact moment when I stopped loving her. I think I only stayed because I was afraid, and she was all I knew.”

He loved her at one point.  

You had no words to comfort an inevitable heartbreak like that. 

“I think I understand where you’re coming from. My ex cheated on me at the start of the year,” You could hardly believe the words that were coming out of your mouth, but somehow found the courage to continue. 

Heeseung’s head shot up, “You?”

“I like to think I was just too much for him to handle, but who knows what really drives people to hurt their supposed loved ones like that. I really figured he’d be my first and last… maybe if I were in a video game or something. Left me depressed for a few months, but I’m better off these days,” You gave him a sad smile and pulled up your knees to wrap your arms around them. 

“I didn’t know…” Heeseung’s words faded. 

You picked at the comforter. “Just another peek past the facade. I only brought that up because, well, you’re not alone.”

When the room fell silent, you glanced up at him only to find his pained eyes that stirred up emotion in you. 

“How do you feel now?”

You paused at the question, really turned it around in your head. He forced you to look inside of yourself, past depths of stagnant emotions you had no desire to uncover or acknowledge, but he gave you no choice. 

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you pressed them shut with a shake of your head.

Why so suddenly? Why am I feeling everything again now?

You felt his knuckles brush across your cheek. Heeseung took his time swiping away the tears that kept falling with his thumbs, and when you opened your eyes again, his own were glassed over, but he didn’t turn away from you.

“Oh. No, no, don’t—“ Absolutely flustered, you drew up on your knees and pressed your sleeves over his eyes to soak up his tears. You were terrible at comforting emotionally distressed people, let alone yourself. 

Is this boy really crying for me?

You were unable to help from chuckling weakly as you watched his sweet little lips tremble, “I’ve already cried so many pitiful tears for myself, it’s not even worth it, Heeseung. Trust me.” 

Finally, you drew your soaked sleeves away from his bleary eyes and cupped his flushed cheeks in your hands, “Trust me, sweetheart.”

He nodded and gently set your hands down on the sheets but held onto them. This all was definitely cathartic for you both.

“It’s okay to feel the way we do,” Heeseung regained himself, “It’s just— I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you to fill the void, that period of emptiness people usually experience— that I experienced. I’m not. I sat alone in it for weeks after everything happened and came to terms with it.”

Nodding, you listened to his words, shocked at how much of his heart he was bearing to you.

“___, I care about you. Do you understand that?”

After countless times he’s proven that to you, you acknowledged his words, “I do.”

“Good,” Heeseung’s torn expression eased into something more fond when he regarded you, “Because I was grateful for you and your consistent requests for help, and I tried to repay you in the only manner I was able to at the time. In a way, you distracted me a bit from everything going on in that part of my life. 

At the start, I threw myself into my studies, but it’s true that I also took advantage of the chance to be near someone, to be needed, even if just for a class period.”

Both his words and soft gaze disarmed you— slowly, every insecure thought you had about how he felt toward you diminished. 

“You know, your persistence really threw me off, but I was adamant about keeping some distance between us. I wasn’t trying to hop from one relationship to another and cling to someone— I needed time too… Turns out the time I needed was shorter than I thought once you came along.”

A small smile pulled at your lips, “Are you saying I knocked some sense into you?” 

“Yes,” He admitted, “Knowing that I hurt you when you were just trying to get to know me made me realize I’d taken things too far. That I didn’t need to push people away anymore.”

A newfound admiration bloomed in your chest for Heeseung.

“You made up for it, though.”

“Have I? I feel like I’m still working on making it up to you.”

Heeseung has been generous with me ever since I met him, regardless of how private he had been. Even during our rockiest moments— even now.

You looked down, “Don’t feel like you have to keep making up anything to me, because you don’t.”

He brushed a damp strand of hair away from your eyes. 

“I could say the same for you. Sometimes we do things not because they need to be done, but because we want to.”

Heeseung quietly watched surprise take hold of your features.

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you threw yourself on him and wrapped your arms around his neck in the biggest hug you swore you’d ever given. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but you squeezed him hard just to let him know how much you cared and were astonished when he drew you against him even closer. 

“Thank you,” He whispered in your ear. 

Your eyes fluttered open, realizing your lashes were damp with secret tears. “Anytime,” you breathed. 

Heeseung chuckled against your neck, and you refused to move, so he drew you under the sheets with him. Instead, you relaxed into his embrace fully, letting his peaceful, lavender scent encompass you for the whole night. 

The first emotion you experienced upon waking was frustration; you were pulled from the kind of dream you didn’t want to forget but had absolutely no recollection of. All you knew was that it left you feeling hot in all the right places and you didn’t want it to end— and then someone was playing with your hair.

A shiver worked itself up your spine as they ran their hands slowly through your strands, stroking gently along your neck, and it felt so, so nice. You stirred but feigned sleep a little longer just to enjoy the sensation of tingles running down your back. When you finally came to, you grumbled and pressed up against the warm body beneath you.

Heeseung.

He looked slightly startled but smirked at you, his laid-back appearance taking you by surprise first thing in the morning. The fact that you had fallen asleep next to him for the entire night began to settle in your mind, and you suddenly felt incredibly shy. 

Especially since he was playing with your hair. Exactly how long had he been awake? 

“Morning.”

“Hey. I must look like a wreck,” You said, a bit embarrassed. 

“You look like you slept well,” Heeseung hummed.

Oh, his voice sounds deeper in the morning.

You rubbed at the sleep in your eyes and tried to smooth down your bedhead, “For some reason I did… I-is that drool?”

Mortified, your eyes bore into the dark patch on his shirt in disbelief, then your hands were grabbing at his collar, “Change out of that right now.”

“It’s fine,” Heeseung insisted, resting his hand on your wrist.

“No, I can’t look at it!” You pulled at the fabric in a panic.

“It’s not that big of a– I– Okay!” He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head; you snatched it and hid the evidence behind your back, already planning on burning it if you could find a lighter in his flat.

“I’m sorry,” You sighed but did a double take and stared because any normal person would, just not for as long as you did. His lean physique took you by surprise, especially when he always wore oversized clothing. 

With an amused smile, Heeseung leaned forward to swipe his thumb against the corner of your lip as if there were drool there.

He tilted his head, “Are you?”

You lept off the bed in search of another shirt in his drawers, “Stop that.” 

“What?”

You ignored him. 

A black T-shirt caught your eye, and you balled it up to launch it across the room at him but flinched when you suddenly felt Heeseung’s presence behind you. His hand brushed against your back in an attempt not to scare you.

“Someone’s jumpy in the morning,” Heeseung commented, taking the shirt from you to pull it on. You got another peek at his cut waistline just as he was adjusting the fabric over his head. 

“Usually I’m not….”

For as much of a nerdy person as he was, he certainly took care of himself. You thought back to the first time you’d gotten a glimpse of his skin after class and compelled yourself not to turn into a stuttering idiot after blowing things out of proportion first thing in the morning. 

“Well, I have a 9 am final I need to leave for in about 15 minutes. There’s an extra unopened toothbrush in the drawer and stuff if you want to get ready,” Heeseung called over his shoulder as he dug out different pieces of clothing to wear. “Clothes-wise, wear whatever you want.”

“I’ll just wear this out. I’m gonna head back to my apartment to change before my afternoon class anyways.”

Heeseung’s bathroom was very minimal, with a few basic products that were easy to find. It looked tidy because of that… couldn’t exactly say the same for yours. 

You splashed water on your skin with a bit of face soap, and after patting it dry, you found the extra toothbrush and toothpaste he mentioned, letting your mind drift while you brushed your teeth.

When I think about it, I can’t believe we’ve become this comfortable with each other. He’s a much more emotional person than I initially thought. Staying overnight was a pretty risky move in the sense that anything could’ve happened. I mean anything. Also, it was pretty gross that I drooled on him, but he was hardly deterred. He even played with my hair…

The brushing came to a stop.

…And he actually cried for me last night.

Heeseung filed in next to you and casually started brushing his teeth. You wanted to laugh at how unfamiliar the simple act felt but ended up staring at him through the mirror, noticing his puffy eyelids. Yours were hardly any better. 

Then he wriggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to spit immediately into the sink. So much for brushing for a full two minutes. He seemed like himself again.

You rinsed and patted your mouth with a towel, “So weird.”

Heeseung shrugged and finished up in the bathroom when you grabbed your laundry and went to locate all of your belongings ahead of time so you wouldn’t hold him up by the time he had to leave. As you organized your laundry in your backpack, the previous night's events continued to flash through your mind.

“Hey, what are you gonna do about your glasses?”

Heeseung emerged from the bathroom and tipped his head back to place something in his eye, “Wear contacts until I can get them fixed.”

“Ah.”

You fell into thought as Heeseung finished inserting his contacts, “I was wondering about this for a while, but when we first ate Thai together… Why were you acting so weird after I mentioned you looked different without your glasses? I said you looked cute either way, but it seemed like I offended you.”

“Oh, that? No, you didn’t offend me…” Heeseung murmured. 

Your brows furrowed, “What was it then?”

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and nearly stumbled from misstepping. “It wasn’t what you said. It’s just when you touched my hair and what not— I just… I realized I wanted you, but it didn’t feel right yet.”

As if his own words had just dawned on him, his hands froze on the waistband of his sweats. At the same time, you looked up at Heeseung from rummaging in your bag.  

Every little flirtatious interaction and hint of jealousy clicked together in your mind like puzzle pieces, confirming his longing for you since then.

It’s not like you didn’t come to that conclusion, but even back then? And to admit that aloud, now?

A thrumming tension hung between you two as you stood up. 

“You wanted me?” 

Heeseung swallowed thickly as you approached him, forcing him back against the foot of his bed. If only you knew what your presence by his side every day and in his most private spaces had done to him, maybe you’d show a little mercy and understanding. 

He wished you were aware of how every room you occupied was imbued with your scent and how he couldn’t sleep a wink last night because you were pressed up so soundly against him, unable to stay still as you dreamt of things he so desperately wanted to be a part of.

Wished you knew how happy it made him to see you casually interacting with his belongings like you already owned them, eating the simple ramen he made for you, getting comfortable under his sheets, and wearing his clothing without a second thought now. 

Wished he was insane enough to pull your chair towards him once everyone in class had left, slide down on his aching knees, and bury his head between your thighs to make you scream his name over and over until your sweet voice grew hoarse. 

Heeseung wanted to indulge you with his deepest desires.

He supposed all crossroads led to this very moment— Since the day you walked through the classroom door with a smile and he forced himself to pretend your existence wasn’t that important, that he wasn’t in the slightest bit affected by how frighteningly beautiful or intimidating you were to him when you found the need to be. 

There was no way he could ignore someone like you for long, not when you showered him in attention and simply couldn’t leave him be. Even when he’d act overbearing and nagging, proving to be a bit much for you at times. 

As fate would have it, he was destined to bend to you, his mind, body, and soul more than willing, even if he fought it at the start.

He should be afraid of putting so much trust in someone who held so much power over him, but he wasn’t— not anymore.  

Every bit of him wanted to be dialed into now as you reached out and rearranged a few pieces of his bangs around his eyes, running your fingers softly through his hair, setting off alarms in his body like you had all those weeks ago. 

“I wanted you,” He admitted. 

Truly.

The second he leaned into your touch, you did it a little more roughly, and the look he gave said that you were treading on thin ice with him. 

Despite his piercing eyes, you remained calm and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear before tracing the outline of it with your fingertip all the way down to his ear lobe, noting how a soft sigh escaped his lips as you massaged him there. You ignored the urge to take his ear lobe into your mouth, despite wanting to hear the beautiful sounds he might make for you. 

Instead, you let sweeter thoughts motivate you and ran your fingers along his jaw, holding him close as you stood on your tippy toes, stare flitting down to his lips. You didn’t have to reach much, Heeseung was already leaning down, meeting you more than halfway.

When your lips met, it felt delightful and sure, sparking like a kiss that had been a long time coming— but an undeniable intensity dominated the caress from the sheer amount of desire you had for him since the very start. Heeseung responded immediately, and you could sense his struggle to manage his eagerness for you.

Intentionally keeping the pace slow but sensual, you pulled back and swiped your tongue against his lips any time you felt him get worked up under your touch.

It frustrated Heeseung, who simply wanted to be as near to you as possible, so once your lips connected again, he slyly tilted his head to deepen the kiss, reveling in your startled moans as he caught you off guard. His hands slid up your smooth back and dug into your skin, pressing you close so he could finally feel you against him and keep you there.

Of course, he tasted like mint, and his touch was more than covetous by how he grazed your shoulders under your shirt, revealing your skin and sending sparks down your spine once more. Suddenly breathless, you parted for a moment, but Heeseung held you tightly against his heaving chest, letting you know that there was no escaping him as his heart beat wildly beneath your palms. 

“And now?” You had the gal to ask when you were the one waning under his passion. 

“Mm,” His lips caressed your cheek, “Don’t think I’ll be able to get enough of you.”

Heeseung’s breath caught when you dragged your hand against the soft fabric covering his chest and abdomen. You gathered the shirt higher on his waist, then ran the tips of your nails up and down his stomach, circling his belly button to tease him. Then you stoked the flames, pressing your hips flush against his, and could feel his excitement sear against your thigh. 

A breathy hiss left his lips, and he gazed at you with heavy eyes, the mere sound making you throb with need for him. You enjoyed smoothing your palms beneath his shirt and over his lightly toned chest.

“Don’t stop….”

Your fingers just grazed his nipples as his hips jerked against yours. 

“Show me where, but do it slowly.”

Heeseung shamelessly tugged the waistband of his sweatpants down on his hips and took your wrist to gradually draw your touch lower, much lower, until you were palming his hard length through the thin layer of his black briefs. Even through the fabric, he was hot to the touch and pulsing against your fingers. 

“Heeseung,” you drawled accusingly. 

“Fuck,” His head dropped forward into the crook of your neck as you began to squeeze and rub along his thick cock. He held onto your wrist and began grinding into your hand, his panting growing heavier against your skin by the second. You could feel his wetness starting to form where you palmed him over and over. 

“Hey, be honest with me. Did you get hard sleeping next to me?”

Heeseung licked his lips, “Just a little.”

Your curiosity got the best of you, “And did you touch yourself?”

Heeseung stiffened against you, “Only a bit when you’d grind against my side. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to last the night….”

He groaned when you firmly groped his cock through his briefs, making him feel like he was yours. 

“When I’d grind on you?” You asked incredulously. 

“Ah– Yes, you were the exact way I am right now– rubbing against me, all breathless and whiny. Must’ve been a good dream; made me jealous,” He revealed, even as a smug smile grew on his face.

Your recollection was faint, but you knew he wasn’t joking.

“Did you feel me up when I was asleep?”

His grin dropped, and his voice tightened, “No. You know I wouldn’t do that,” His doubtful expression then shifted to one of cautious inquisitiveness, “Not unless you wanted me to….”

He caught how your brows rose at the meaning and found your reaction entertaining.

Of course, Heeseung would never touch you without your approval, but the fact he just brazenly put it out there as an option was wild to you. He’s so unassuming that you weren’t sure what to think after he casually suggested a naughty offer like that as if it were just a pre-planned favor he could easily take care of for you.

Heeseung seemed to surprise you in many ways, but you should’ve known to expect the unexpected from him at this point. Maybe you’d take him up on his offer later, but for the time being, you were intrigued by this side of Heeseung you just glimpsed. 

An impish idea came to mind as you desired to provoke him further and draw him out of his shell. You twirled around in his arms and arched your back to press your ass against his bulge, enticing him to grind on you. Once you tipped your head back to look up at him and reached overhead to tug at his dark locks, you made your neediness undeniable to him.

Heeseung recognized it too and, for a moment, was taken aback. He could tell by the glint in your eyes that you wanted to relinquish your control to him; it was that similar kind of fascination you looked at him with in the restaurant when all he wanted to do was bend you over that wooden table and please you in every which way. 

“And if I’d woken up all needy and begging for you, what would you have done?” You nestled your cheeks against his cock, delighted by how he tucked his lip under his teeth to stifle a moan, “Would you be nice, Hee? Or would you ruin me?”

His initial shyness soon morphed into complete hunger as one of his hands found your waist, and the other snaked up between your breasts to wrap around your neck. Heeseung anchored you to his chest, and when you felt him take hold of your jaw to kiss you over your shoulder, you melted in his arms. 

“Why don’t I just show you?”

It didn’t even register that Heeseung shoved you onto the bed and pressed you onto your stomach. He forced your legs apart with his own before holding you down by your nape and hip, letting you know your place. Instantly, he began grinding his hips into your ass, and all you felt was the unyielding pressure and heat that threatened to undo you right then and there. 

“Oh, fuck yes—“

It felt so good to be pinned beneath Heeseung, let alone a person who you entirely adored from head to toe. His weight bearing down on you felt delicious and heavy; you could only imagine what the full force of his thrusts felt like, especially without any barriers of clothing. 

God, you really thought you’d be the one to bring him to his knees first, but here you were. The sensation of his hard length dragging between your ass caused your pussy to dampen your sweatpants uncontrollably.

Even Heeseung could feel it. 

Oh shit. Shit—

“Making a mess already, baby?”

“Shut up,” You gritted out, his words setting your face aflame. 

Yes, yes— you’ve turned me on since the day we met!

Is that what you want to hear me say? 

He was soaking in his briefs just minutes ago. Who was he to talk?

You were barely able to quiet your yelp in time when Heeseung slid his hands past your waistband and pushed the fabric just beneath your cheeks to knead at the soft flesh. He did it in such a teasing way that made you feel delirious and frantic at the same time like you wanted him to strip you bare and run his tongue all over your body right after. 

“Talk to me that way again and see what happens,” He warned, egging you on. His hands on your ass grew more insistent as he gripped and massaged your flesh, making you grasp at the sheets. 

Ah, you couldn’t believe Heeseung also had this side to him, but at the same time, you had an inkling. What a crazy contrast to how he was whimpering under your touch just moments before. Typically, he was so patient with you in class, but you just knew he had an itch to scratch when it came to you.  

Excitement bristled through your entire being, and it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I said shut–”

He brought his palm down before you even finished, and god was there power behind it.

A moan ripped from your throat, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh ringing in your ears as his hands possessively ran over your stinging ass.

“Again,” Heeseung baited you. 

Astonished with yourself, you bit your lip hard. At the same time, your pussy clenched, juices spilling onto the sheets. You loved the feeling but realized you weren’t going to last with how swollen your clit felt from his words and the way he handled you. Even just jerking against the mattress after the blow Heeseung landed nearly made you come. 

“No?”

This is insane. There is no way I’m going to come just from getting spanked once. No fucking way. 

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together as Heeseung pressed a wet kiss to the flushed skin he’d marked. 

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

The cold air hit your legs and pussy when he yanked off your bottoms in one fell swoop, and then he was flipping you onto your back and running his large hands against your sides to gather your shirt over your breasts. 

“Heeseung,” You gulped, suddenly feeling very exposed in the morning light. 

“___, be good for me,” He tipped your chin up to capture your lips in a reassuring kiss, “I just wanna make you feel good like you can let go without worrying about anything. Trust me?”

His words calmed you immediately.

“Of course.”

“Good girl,” Heeseung kissed you once more, and you relaxed into it, letting your legs fall open so he could press closer. That is, until his hands were back to slowly stroking up and down your curves, thumbing at your peaking nipples. 

“You are gorgeous,” Heeseung smiled, noticing a deep flush creeping across your cheeks, “So soft and sensitive…”

He squeezed your breasts together and dragged the flat of his hot tongue between your cleavage with a flick. The visual was so fucking overwhelming you hung your forearm over your eyes with a whimper. 

“…But you could have me on my knees if you wanted to, and you know it.” 

Doing as he pleased, he took the edge of your shirt and pulled it tightly over your breasts so that your nipples would harden with every pass of the fabric. Each time he tugged the edge of the shirt over the swell of your breasts, your nipples would perk up against the cold air, tempting Heeseung to teasingly place kisses around them before repeating it all over again. 

He was receptive to your minuscule reactions, watching closely at the way you wet your lips and arched your back to press your chest against his face anytime he drew near. 

“A-ah— Hee,” You complained, threading your fingers through his hair, desperately wanting his mouth fully on your tits, “Fucking tease….”

You felt him mouth kisses at the underside of your breast and swipe his tongue back and forth while your nipples tingled, begging for attention.

“Acting like you’re not enjoying this? Someone really likes to play dumb around me,” He kissed your throat as you squirmed underneath his rough touch, your thighs drenched in arousal. 

Finally, Heeseung tucked your shirt above your chest and dragged his hand down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, stopping right above your clit, just to make you even crazier. 

“That’s how you keep me wrapped around your finger, isn’t it?”

He came back up to seal his lips over your aching breast and suckled deeply against your nipple. The sloppy noises caused your body to clench and fold under him; you were twisting in his grasp, barely able to withstand the expressions of his deep-seated desire. 

Then he stroked you down there, let you rub your sensitive slit against him, and make a drooly mess over his palm. You moaned unabashedly at the feeling of him finally palming your pussy. 

“Oh my god!”

Having sensed your uncontrollable surge of arousal, he lapped at your sweetness on his hand, brought your leg around his waist, and let you rut your bare hips against him. As you curled around his head and clutched him against your chest, you grinded against him messily like you were in heat, using him to satiate the growing fire in your core without a care if you were soaking his shirt or getting a cramp in your side. 

Heeseung pulled you up to sit on his bulge, and your hands shot out against his chest to support yourself over him. He held you firmly by your love handles and let you hump against his cock to your heart's content, clearly enjoying the view of you above him with a coy smile. 

“Shit! Hee….”

Heeseung squeezed and rolled your breasts in his hands, “Had a feeling you’d like riding me. That little clit must be so swollen and pink—“

Soon enough, he found himself preoccupied with lapping his hot tongue against your other breast, coating it in saliva before smacking your nipple against his lips. You threw your head back and moaned deeply, the thrusts of your hips unrelenting. Heeseung’s hands blazed up your thighs and ass, insistent on making it known how much he’d been holding himself back from touching you. 

Heeseung snapped his hips up into you, causing you to nearly keel over on top of him, thighs shaking and spit spilling from your lips onto his chest. He easily caught you, his chuckle vibrating against your skin, and laid you back against the sheets to lick over your chin and slip his heavy tongue against yours. He moaned into your mouth, tasting you deeply with every stroke, and you simply allowed him to devour you. 

He knew you were purely holding onto him for dear life at this point. 

Abruptly, you heard Heeseung curse under his breath upon seeing the time on his bedside stand. “You don’t have class ‘till later, right?”

His words almost didn’t register in your lust-hazed brain as you chased his lips for more kisses. 

“Wha? No—“

Suddenly, Heeseung was gripping your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders to fold you in half. He dragged his fingers through your slicked folds again and circled your clit before sucking the taste of you off them. 

“Good,” You gasped as he smirked down at you, then his perfectly aligned hips rolled into yours— and stopped for nothing.

With a broken moan, your eyes fluttered shut at the sweet, sweet heat. The friction of his sweatpants only heightened your pleasure as his hips drew deep, slow circles against your bare pussy, your eyes rolling back into your head every time he made contact with your swollen clit just right. 

“Hee— Heeseung—“ Your call devolved into a litany of moans, filling his ears like pleasing notes. 

He was almost fed up with himself for not making a move when you embraced him after your talk because he could’ve been enjoying your mewls of pleasure all night long. Almost. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have traded anything for the endearing way you tackled him onto his bed with abandon and curled up in his arms to sleep, even as torturous as laying next to you was. 

“I love being needed by you,” Heeseung confessed against your lips, “Even though I know you don’t really need me.”

“No— I need you,” You whimpered against him, your nails digging pretty red crescents into his shoulder blades. The force of his hips was jarring enough to make you feel like you were losing your sanity as he drilled you deeper and deeper into his mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? How badly?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened if that were even possible.

“So fucking badly! You’re— you’re gonna make me come,” you warned, “Fuck—“

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel, and then in seconds, quick pulses of emanating heat dragged you under a blanketed haze of pleasure. 

Heeseung was beyond pleased with the blissful expression you wore, knowing you saw fireworks behind your fluttering eyelids. As though in tune with your body, Heeseung eventually slowed his thrusts and took in every bare inch of you that glistened with a pretty sheen of sweat, basking in the sound of your shaky moans.

If you had the sense to peel your eyes open, you’d crumble even more under his fervent expression as he gently pressed his hips against your clenching pussy and kept the perfect amount of pressure there for your enjoyment. 

“Mmn!” Inevitably, you trembled and huffed against him from oversensitivity, in disbelief of how hard he still was. 

He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger— kissed you like you had breath to spare.

“See, you like being teased, don’t you, baby?”

“Hee… fuck…”

When you eventually came to, you glanced down between your bodies and saw the aftermath; the sheets and front of his sweatpants were stained with your release. However, the tent in his pants is what caught your attention, and you salivated at his twitching dick, knew how big it was under your hand— wanted to see it drip with pearly cum. 

Despite being lightheaded, you grabbed at his hips with determination.

“Sorry, I got carried away, but I have to go,” Heeseung caught your hands and was already gently tugging you to sit up so he could clean you off. 

“But—“

“I know we’re gonna be so busy starting today, but do you want to meet up Thursday evening in one of the study rooms? The day before our final? I promise I’ll make it up to you.” 

Make it up? After everything he just did, make up for what? Did he mean make out? Your brain was unable to compute, and you just found yourself nodding. 

Heeseung chuckled and sealed the deal with a kiss that conveyed a deep affection you felt unworthy of. His hands threaded into your hair, it almost felt like he wasn’t going to let you go, but he did.

“See you then.”

Knowing Heeseung didn’t come during his first time with you haunted you for several days up until your final study session with him of the year. He certainly had to be aware that you had no intention of leaving him high and dry, but it still frustrated you. Timing was the biggest obstacle then, and you were determined not to let it get in the way today. 

Like a diligent student, you had studied for all your classes and prepared for your finals like it was the apocalypse. Despite your worries, a majority of them you already knocked out; the final project for your coding class consisted of an entire presentation of your work the following day, officially making it your most concerning project. 

You loathed public speaking, and of course, there was a mistake in your code that you failed to catch in the haze of exhaustion while you were burning the midnight oil, so it gave you all the more reason to look forward to seeing Heeseung. Thanks to him, you actually had a chance at acing the class rather than just having survived it.

Plus, you were glad to have an excuse to talk about something other than what went down at his apartment because you were still working your brain around the different sides of himself he’d shown to you that morning. 

You smirked to yourself. 

Will I encounter the angel or devil today? 

It was always chilly in the library, so you felt your nipples pebble under your favorite sweatshirt in reaction to the air conditioner. The outfit you chose to wear was slightly out of the norm but purposeful. You ditched the bra opting for comfort, and with Heeseung in mind, you traded your typical pair of sweatpants for a white, pleated skirt that matched your casual sneakers. 

Usually, you stuck purely to skincare, but your make-up was fairly light for today, save for a touch of red coloring your lips and liner with mascara to brighten your eyes. It was a nice mix of your signature relaxed look and a touch of coquette. Obviously, it wasn’t over the top, but you felt pretty cute. 

You spotted a focused-looking Heeseung through the study room window at the end of a long row of shelves. He’d chosen the most inconspicuous study room on the top floor, and you had to applaud him for that. 

A wave of confidence overcame you as you approached the room at an unhurried pace. 

After two knocks, you pulled open the door. 

“Oh, I almost didn’t recognize you, specs,” You smiled, dropping your bag onto the table and comfortably leaning against the edge. 

“Yeah?” Heeseung sat back against his chair and took off his new glasses with a snort, inspecting the plastic frames, “My original glasses are taking a while to get repaired. Weirdly, I got some stares from people in my other classes and customers at work without them, so I just picked up a shitty pair from the Dollar Tree. They give me a headache but beats the odd looks….”

He scrambled to slide them back in place once he noticed your atypical attire, his gaze slowly trailing up your legs.

“Sounds like they were checking you out. I guess I can see where they’re coming from,” You crossed your legs, holding back a smile. 

He exuded an interesting vibe today himself, his cute glasses served as the biggest contrast against his black ensemble consisting of gray jeans and a black shirt. If he’d worn only his contacts on top of everything, it would’ve been too much for you to handle.

Inwardly, you snickered as the tips of his ears blushed red, and he quickly glanced down at his keyboard. Even you were still trying to figure out how this was the same guy who relentlessly teased your body to death earlier that week. 

Oh, he’s the shy one today. Let’s see for how long…

You eased the attention off of him, “I’m probably gonna need you to double-check my project.”

“That’s fine. I’ll help you after you tell me how this tastes.”

You tilted your head, “Hm?”

“I baked you something.”

“You— you did?” Your eyes brightened as he rested his hand on a simple, ribbon-wrapped package sitting next to his laptop that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, it’s edible,” His grin made your heart thrum. 

Heeseung handed you the package and patiently looked up at you with wide eyes as you unboxed its contents. You tugged at the ribbon delicately as it unraveled and peeked under the lid. 

“Macarons!”

“The decadent kind. Try it,” He reached over and took out a cream-colored macaron, set the box aside, then held it to your lips, “You look pretty, by the way….”

Eep!

“Thank you,” You gave him a sincere smile, causing him to nibble on his lip. 

You tucked your hair behind your ear and leaned forward to take a bite. The texture was marvelous; one bite in, and you were sold on the delicious buttercream filling. 

“Mmm— the butter,” Your mouth watered in between chewing, “This flavor beats all the others out of the park! I think it’s my new favorite. Seriously.”

“No need to savor it, I can always make more,” He reminded you. 

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

You stared at him suspiciously. Did he mean it? As in, he intended to stay in touch?

“If I wanted some next week, you’d bake me some?”

He nodded, “Sure.”

“But what if I wanted some for Christmas?”

“I can bake you more, along with some other treats I’ll be testing for the holidays.”

“And what if I wanted some next semester?”

Heeseung chuckled, “I’d make you barely enough; that way, you have to keep asking me. There. Satisfied that you exposed my ploy?”

You stared at him, feeling overwhelmed. The time you thought would come to an end with him wasn’t as concerning of an issue as you had thought all along. Whether or not Heeseung thought that to be obvious to you both, you weren’t planning on taking his words for granted. 

He gestured at the remaining macaron half he held, but you ignored it and slid into his lap, nestling against his firm bulge. He groaned softly but welcomed you, his free hand squeezing your bare thigh as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“And will we still be friends by then?”

“No,” His eyes shone with knowing, “No, I don’t think so.”

You inhaled deeply, “How about next week?”

He slowly shook his head and found himself staring at your lips.

You tilted his chin up so he’d meet your eyes. “And what about now?”

A bashful smile spread across his face, and he brushed the macaron against your lips, ”You tell me….”

Gently, you took the piece into your mouth, brushing your glossy lips against his fingertips, succeeding in stealing his breath away. 

You held his hand between yours and took your time to suck the pads of his thumb, then index finger into your mouth as your voice dropped to a whisper, “You’re mine.”

And the look in his eyes said he knew it. 

The air around you two dampened with lust. 

“I missed you,” Heeseung wet his lips and thumbed at your own, “Let me taste, please?”

While still seated in Heeseung’s lap, you leaned back against the table, his hands settling on your soft thighs as you reached off to the side for another treat. You split the macaron in half so you could gather the white filling with a lick, then stick out your tongue past your lips. You stayed relaxed against the table, legs hanging on either side of his lap, and beckoned him with your finger. 

In a blink of an eye, Heeseung was leaning over you to pull you against his chest and taste every inch of your mouth he could reach. The kiss was ravenous and sugary sweet, with way too much tongue; everything you could’ve wanted after spending a few days apart. 

“Mm,” you moaned against his lips when his palm slid over the side of your neck to hold you in place. 

You knew he was just bursting at the seams of his pants. After all, he never got the satisfaction of finishing like you had, and now it was your turn to play with him. 

The kisses quickly evolved into eager smacks and dips of his warm tongue against yours, your shenanigans to blame. You broke the kiss after a particularly sloppy caress and watched thick strands of saliva dribble down his chin. 

“A-ah…”

You eyed the cherry red stains of your lipstick on Heeseung’s lips and lapped up the strands with several hot strokes, earning a whimper from him. Obsessed with the sounds he just made, you messily reconnected your lips with his and pulled back again, catching strands of his saliva with a flick of your tongue.

He moaned deeply, brows knit together, his eyes glazed over and pleading. At this point, his glasses had been slightly knocked askew on his nose, and you chuckled at the dreamy look in his eyes.

Heeseung was panting deeply, his nipples standing hard underneath his shirt; the boy looked like he wanted to be devoured by you.

“You like it sloppy, huh, baby?”

“Yes—,” His hips bucked excitedly against yours, but you could tell he was trying to control himself.

“I’ve always thought your ears are so cute,” You whispered hotly against his skin, making them grow a shade darker of blush, “You don’t mind if I suck on them a bit, do you?”

Heeseung’s eyes widened behind his crooked glasses, ”No….”

“You clean ‘em, right?” You teased, sweeping your nail up the fluttering pulse at his neck.

Heeseung pouted, “Yes, every day—“

“I know, cutie,” You adjusted his glasses and traced the curve of his ear with your tongue, holding him in place by his jaw.

He gasped at the sensation and shut his eyes to really enjoy the way you were toying with him. When your teeth began to tug against the tip of his ear, he bit back a small groan, making you smile against his skin. 

You soothed your assault with several laps of your tongue before moving to suckle at his ear lobe and grind down on his hard-on.

“Oh god…” Heeseung’s eyes fluttered, and with desperate hands, he clung to your waist, barely hanging on by a thread. He twitched beneath you; enduring your teasing was as torturous for him as it was gratifying for you.

You released his sensitive earlobe with a smack and then slowly dipped your hot tongue into his ear, in and out, pressing deeper each time. You felt Heeseung’s jaw loosen in your grip, his mixture of pants and moans growing heavy as he nearly went limp under you. 

“Ah… fuck…” Heeseung drawled. He could barely stand hearing such lewd sounds— could feel himself leaking and hard in his jeans as you turned his brain to mush. 

“You like it when I fuck your ear, don’t you?”

Heeseung moaned incoherently, and you moved just beneath his ear to nip and kiss his neck harshly. 

“Look at me, Heeseung.”

When he turned to you, he looked completely out of it. It was apparent that the sweet thing needed a break from his studies to let his mind go completely blank, only to be filled with the most manic thoughts of you.  

“Kiss me properly like a good boy.”

He obeyed you, gingerly taking your face in his hands and capturing your lips with care. The shared moment gave you both time to breathe and remember where you were, in each other's arms, completely focused on pleasing the other. 

And you wanted more of him, so much more. 

“Can't stop thinking about you whether I’m awake or asleep,” Heeseung whispered, “Can’t stop touching myself.”

Shit. 

Your brain conjured up images of Heeseung palming himself in the same bed you had slept in while you had been fast asleep, experiencing a wet dream. Even in his shower, since that was a probability…

“Yeah, baby? Messing around like we did tends to alter your brain chemistry for a bit, y’know?” The skeptic in you teased. 

Heeseung placed a kiss under your jaw but scolded you, “Don’t be like that. I’ve wanted to share that with you for weeks.”

“Oh,” Despite blushing wildly, you answered coolly, “You sure like to take your time, then.”

“___…” Heeseung frowned at your seemingly nonchalant attitude.

“I’m just joking with you. I know you like to take your time and that you’re a man of action over words. I’ve come to love that about you, even though sometimes, it can drive me crazy,” You held his face in your hands and ran your fingers through his hair, before kissing him hard. 

He liked that a lot, you felt his cock jump so you rocked into him. 

Heeseung sulkily nudged his nose against the side of your neck, taking in your scent, “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. When you’re alone at night, all you need to do is call me, baby.”

He smiled this time, “I’ll definitely do that….”

You didn’t hesitate to connect your lips with his and let your tongue roam the deepest it had in his mouth, gently prodding at his throat to taste the rich flavor of buttercream against his tongue. When you tried to pull back, Heeseung retaliated and sucked on your tongue. 

“Mmm—”

His boldness spurred you on to hungrily press your lips against his once more, his taste intoxicating to you. Feeling your inhibition slip completely, your panties began to soak through onto his lap, clit pulsing from the heat of his body under yours. You dragged your hands up beneath his shirt and caressed your fingertips over his warm, firm chest, causing him to shiver in pleasure. 

He moaned when your fingers began to twist at his nipples, “I-I love it when you… play with me….”

“Yeah, baby, I can tell,” You regarded him with a curious smile before asking, “Do you like blowjobs?”

His eyes widened, but he slowly found himself nodding.

You giggled and tilted your head, “Not sure?”

He searched your eyes for judgement, “No, I’m— I’m, I mean, who wouldn’t? I’ve just never… gotten one before.”

I’m sorry— what?

The inevitable look of disbelief you gave him had him fidgeting in his chair, your hands coming to a still against his waist. 

Well, fuck his ex to hell and back. 

You shifted forward into his lap to press your breasts flush against his chest and caress his cheeks. “Well, I’d love to give you one. Would you like that?” 

“I’d love that, please,” He bit his lip, his gaze on you already unfocused. 

You were unable to help the giddy feeling in your chest as you kissed him and pressed the heel of your palm between his thighs.  

Heeseung ground up against your hand as you felt him up through his jeans before swiftly releasing him from their confines. The subtle curve of his flushed cock was more beautiful than you imagined, as were the pulsing veins lining the underside of his length. He was heavy in your hands and soaked to the touch in his arousal, much like you were between your thighs. 

“Oh, you must be aching. Been dying to taste you….”

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” With a shaky breath, Heeseung gathered the edge of his shirt in his grasp to reveal the sharp dips of his abdomen and the light trail of hair leading to his erection, watching as your lovely eyes turned dark.

“So thick, you’re unreal.…”

Slowly, you kneeled between his legs to cover his dripping cock in hungry kisses and played with his pre-cum on your tongue, immediately making him twitch and moan in want. You’ve been dying to reduce him to this mess of a state for the longest time. 

“Like it when I kiss you all over?”

“Yesss— haahn,” His words slurred when you took the head of his cock past your lips and sucked while swirling your tongue over his milky slit.

He was stunned at how your delicate hands worked at the rest of his length, jerking him with a firmness he wasn’t used to but definitely loved. Despite your touch feeling foreign, it felt different than his own in the best possible way. 

How would he last any longer than a minute? All of the sensations you were gracing him with were too much, too good.

“Your balls look so full, baby…” You could feel your mouth salivating as you tongued at his swollen tip. 

“Ohh—“

Out of the corner of Heeseung’s eye, a figure whizzed by the window to his right, and he froze. He only experienced a second of relief when he realized it was just the back of an oblivious student passing by, but he was brought back to reality by the fact that the two of you could be discovered.

While you were obviously aware of this from the start, you sensed the sudden discomfort through the line of tension in his body.

“We could get caught, you know….”

You pulled off of his cock, and smirked, your fingers tightening around his girth, “I’m sure you knew exactly what you were doing when you invited me here. If you’re so worried, then keep your voice down,” You raised an eyebrow at him, “You are a bit loud, sweetheart.”

Heeseung tugged on his lips between his teeth, feeling timid despite the truth. He tried to steady his breathing and swallowed thickly as he glanced out the window for any sign of movement, although the majority of people minded their own business in the library.

“Heeseung!” He heard a familiar voice call.

The face of his friend, Jake, peeked out from behind a bookshelf through the window pane of the study room.

His knee immediately slammed up against the table the moment he felt you mouth at his balls. Heeseung’s breath caught in his lungs, sneakers skidding against the floor as he braced himself against the table. The boy was barely able to process the sheer amount of pleasure from the warm, tight suction of your wet lips around him.

He just wanted to melt to the floor. 

“Fuck—“

In a panic, Heeseung barely managed to swallow a groan of pleasure when his friend shot him a look of concern through the window. From this angle, you weren’t visible from under the table, but Heeseung was sure he appeared oddly curled over his laptop, hands sprawled across the surface of his books and papers.

“You good man?” Jake slowly began to approach the door to the study room.

You heard Rin’s muffled voice, “Have you seen ___? She won’t pick up her phone.”

“I’m okay!” He insisted with a grunt, “Sorry, I haven't! Wait, no— Don’t come in, I just really need to focus right now,” Heeseung raised his voice slightly so they could hear him clearly through the glass.

You ran your tongue across the tender ridge between his balls before humming sweetly against his skin. Pre-cum bubbled at his slit and poured down his length onto your fingers, so you cruelly jerked his cock even quicker than before. 

Heeseung pressed his fist against his lips to stifle a moan, trying to play it off as a cough before waving goodbye in Jake and Rin’s direction, hoping the two would get the hint.

Jake chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, alright then. See you at work!”

“See you, Heeseung. If you see her, tell her to stop ignoring me, she owes me dinner,” Rin winked. 

“I— I will,” He did his best to plaster a smile on his face until your friends disappeared around the corner.

Once they left, you heard a sound of frustration rumble throughout Heeseung’s chest as he pushed away from the table to stare down at you with his hand covering his lips. His eyes nearly started to brim with tears behind his glasses as he watched you slurp around his swollen balls and then suck them tightly into your mouth. 

You noticed his conflicted expression and cooed at him, “Does it feel that good, baby?” Then you were back to hollowing your cheeks around him. 

More profanities spilled from his lips. 

Knowing he was lucky to be sitting instead of standing, he let his knees fall open, his joints completely weak with pleasure. His reasoning skills were non-existent, but it registered in his mind that the girl he fantasized about day and night was so willingly stuffing her mouth with his filthy cock and balls. He could hardly believe it. 

Admittedly, you were impressed at the pretense he managed to keep up in a moment of crisis, and as a reward for his self-control, you gave his balls one last harsh suck, then let them drop from your lips, “You did such a good job holding out there….”

Saliva pooled in your mouth before you spat along his length and continued to pump him at a messy pace, working your spit into the tip of his slippery cock. You rubbed your lips along his sensitive skin, planting open-mouthed kisses and teasing him with a view he was guaranteed to be daydreaming about for a while. 

“___, please,” Heeseung begged for you and started playing with his nipples over his shirt— your baby just couldn’t keep still. 

So fucking cute. 

You gripped his base and let the tip of his cock slip against the soft palate of your mouth, then nearly all the way to the back of your throat with a gag.

“F-fuck— Ngh!”

The action jarred him immensely, and he looked absolutely fucked out with his glasses falling off his face, his hot breath fogging up the lenses. God, it stirred something deep and primal inside you to know you were able to bring him to such a vulnerable state.

You just adored this side of him, and could feel your panties sticking against your lower lips as slick dripped down your thighs. The soreness in your knees hardly registered while you began to thrust your hips, longing for friction even just from your panties; your swollen pussy throbbed incessantly. 

The pace of your relentless bobbing quickened as you choked around his cock, unexpected tears stinging your eyes from how deep you were taking him. You let them spill down your cheeks, only wishing you could take him even deeper somehow, wanting his cock kissing and rubbing against your insides while he took you. The tell tale sensation of your clit twitching was the only warning your body gave you before you were overrun by an orgasm you couldn’t have anticipated. 

With a muffled sob, your pussy fluttered then began clenching around nothing in deep contractions that rocked you to your core, clit begging for more stimulation as you somehow came untouched just from the mere thought of getting pummeled by Heeseung.

One hand remained curled around his cock while you shoved the other between your thighs to work rapid circles over your panties— and then you were coming even harder, spurts of cum creating a messy puddle at your knees. 

He felt your uncontrollable moans shoot up his cock and was unable to escape from their encompassing vibrations. 

“Fuck—!” The curse was drawn out, and gruff— full of desperation.

Despite how incredibly tensed up Heeseung was, his palms brushed atop your head as he threaded his trembling fingers through your hair, attempting to nudge you off of him. His whole body was trembling, but you wouldn’t let him, even as he shook his head, calling your name in a wrecked voice. 

Unadulterated pleasure allowed you to ignore the discomfort and swallow around him as deeply as you could; he broke at the sensation of you choking around him. 

Heeseung’s head lolled back in complete silence when he was left with no choice but to let himself go. His bare hips shot up from his seat against your face and made your throat convulse, rendering himself an absolute wreck under your touch.

You kept him suspended in pleasure for as long as you could, spit and cum spilling from the corners of your lips— even when he finished and fell limp on the chair, you licked him clean, suckling on his sensitive tip to the point where he was whimpering.

His incomparable taste only made you wetter, and your knees gave out as you collapsed on the floor. You rested your cheek against his thigh as you proudly played with his thick, musky cum on your tongue, exploring the texture. It tasted equally addictive. 

“___,” Heeseung was blushing as he took your jaw in his hand, his thumb pressing into your lips, “You’re crazy. Spit that out….”

“What? No,” You frowned, “Where?”

Heeseung scanned the room in a panic for a non-existent trash can before he cupped his palms together, and held his hands up to your lips.

You nearly choked on his cum from laughter. However, you sat back and spread your legs to reveal your ruined panties glossed over with your release.

“You—“ Heeseung gasped as you pulled back the fabric from your skin to show off the way your pretty pussy glistened for him.

He didn’t want to believe his eyes when he witnessed his cum dribble from your pink tongue onto your skin like a sweet glaze. Prayed they were playing tricks on him when you clenched the second it hit and how you smeared it through your folds as you twitched and pleasured yourself for an intimate moment before licking his cum off your lithe fingers…

“You taste so yummy.” 

And how dare you look at him with those eyes.

Heeseung snapped and was already hauling you to your feet; you just ensured there was no way you were leaving this room without getting fucked. 

Now there wasn’t a single bone in him that cared if a library staff passed by and threatened to throw the two of you out. He would take his time finishing you off with them standing there, and then carry your limp body out of the building if he had to. 

He’s never felt more deranged in his entire life, and that was a testament to you. 

“That’s fucking dirty,” Heeseung gripped at your hips and held onto your skirt as he pushed you up against the wall, towering over you. 

“No, baby,” You pulled him down against your lips and he melted into it regardless, “Not if it’s you.”

You sneaked your fingers over his spent cock, but he shoved your hand away. With a laugh, you allowed him to press his knee between your damp thighs and squirmed against him, “You’re getting hard again, Hee.”

The pleats of your skirt gathered in his grasp as he squeezed your ass hard enough to make you yelp. “Who liked sucking my cock so much that they squirted in their panties?”

“T-that was definitely a first time for me, too,” You grinned up at him as he worked on rolling your skirt high on your waist.

“You know what you just did tells me?”

He groped at the front of your breasts and kneaded them greedily over your sweatshirt, drawing heavy moans from your lips as your nipples remained hard under his hands. 

“No bra,” He muttered under his breath.

It felt like your body was overheating again, “What— What does it tell you?”

The way Heeseung dragged his lips over your pulse, and gradually marked your skin with continuous suckles weakened your knees. 

Your eyes shut tight from the overwhelming desire dripping from his voice, breath hot against your skin, “It tells me you’re a sweet little slut for my cum.”

“Ah, a cum slut,” You panted, “Says the one who couldn’t stop tasting me the other day. If anyone’s a slut for cum, it’s you, baby.”

‘Baby.’

Ever since you started to call him the term of endearment, he felt sick to his stomach and imagined himself doing one other thing besides kissing you senseless—

Heeseung fell to his knees, not once taking his eyes off you. It felt like the right place to be, it always had from the start. 

You stopped breathing altogether when Heeseung removed his glasses and haphazardly slid them to the side on the floor. His half-lidded, hungry eyes bore into yours. 

Even though all signs indicated you were in a dangerous spot with him, you continued, “You’re the one on your knees, ‘boutta—“

He gripped your thighs and licked a thick stripe against the soaked fabric of your swollen mound. 

Oh god.

Your fingers curled into his messy locks to steady yourself. 

“Arms behind your back. Keep them there until I’m done cleaning up this filthy pussy.”

You hesitated, “But—“

Heeseung slapped the back of your thigh so he could strip you out of your soiled panties. He gave you a look that had you swallowing your complaint. 

Quietly, you locked your arms behind your back and leaned against the wall, although your expression was far from delighted, likely because you were just coming off of your high from being in control. 

“___,” He spoke softly, “If it gets too much, you know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know, and trust me, I will.”

“I want you to choose a safe word for today.”

“Ah,” You felt your cheeks flush, that was the first time anyone’s ever asked you that. “Buttercream…?”

His eyes creased in amusement. “Perfect. I should’ve guessed.”

Heeseung dragged his middle finger between your folds and watched a mixture of your fresh arousal and his cum string along his fingers; it gave away how much you were enjoying this. He licked the mess off his digit and splayed his hands over your tummy, feeling the warmth of your supple skin under your skirt. 

“See!” You accused him. 

“Behave,” He nipped at your inner thigh, “I’d hate to have to punish you again.”

“I’m sure you would— Aahn—“ The delicate kiss he planted on your clit had you pressing your mound against his face. 

He might’ve been rough with you to start, but he knew you were sensitive from your orgasm. His hands pushed and pulled at your flesh, but his lips were tender on your pussy. He made you so wet when he laved his tongue against your clit and littered kisses over it, you could hardly help yourself from dribbling onto his chin. 

“Oh, Heeseung….”

He hummed in satisfaction against your pussy when you moaned his name so sweetly. 

Tension was ever present in your body, and sweat trickled down between your breasts at the effort of standing over Heeseung, enduring his torture when all you wanted to do was collapse on him. 

The lapping of his tongue grew more insistent between your folds as he tasted the mess of himself there, as he tasted you.  

“Hmnh— Aah!”

“Stay still. You’re not clean yet,” Heeseung pinned your hips against the wall and plunged his tongue into your slit to collect your arousal. It was impossible not to rock against his pretty face whenever his nose nudged your engorged clit.

Once his lips enveloped the nub, your vision blurred, and your knees shook as you tensed up, drawing to the tips of your toes while you fought to stay standing. 

“Heeseung… Heeseung— Hee, I can’t!”

Just as your legs gave out and your back slid down the wall, Heeseung broke your fall and caught you in a heap on his lap. 

“Heeseung,” You let out a frustrated whine against his neck.

Since you lacked the strength to stay right side up, your orgasm was ripped from you, and Heeseung stopped pleasuring you right before you were able to reach your high. 

He gripped you by your thighs to lift you into his arms and stood up. You heard the shuffling of papers and textbooks dropping to the floor as Heeseung shoved them out of the way and laid you on top of the table. 

“Poor baby couldn’t stay still. You know what happens now, right?”

Your surroundings melted away, and when your vision finally focused, all you could see was Heeseung hovering over you, caging you in below him. With your arousal covering his swollen lips and sweat dampening his hair, he looked like a complete wreck and genuinely the wildest you’ve ever seen him.

The lethal look in his eyes took you back to that night you said goodbye to him in front of the bus stop, but even then, they held only a fraction of the intensity compared to now. 

You tried to gather yourself before speaking up but found it difficult to catch your breath. 

“I’ll— I’ll be a good little slut for you,” Even though you felt fear, your words still had bite to them, “Is that what you want to hear?”

You weren’t sure what possessed you at that moment to give Heeseung a hard time, but you liked the surprised reaction you got out of him; it felt fair after he edged you the way he did. 

“On second thought, why don’t I just—“ You dared to sink two fingers into your pussy and began pumping in and out of yourself. Rolling your neck to the side, you moaned softly at the intrusion. 

Heeseung grabbed your wrist and yanked your fingers out of you. It was challenging to put up a fight when he slammed your hands back onto the table and held your arms above you, “Quit being a brat.”

You felt him reach for something on the table but realized it was the thin ribbon when he tied it tightly around your wrist in a knot. 

“Is your cock that needy for me?”

“If we’re gonna talk about needy,” You felt Heeseung’s warm breath against your ear as he curled his fingers into you, “Let’s talk about this tight little cunt.”

Heeseung, you bad boy. 

He was much, much dirtier and meaner than you gave him credit for. He caught on easily to what you liked, when you wanted it, and enjoyed it all the while.

You arched your back off the table. “Mmn— You hate being so sweet, don’t you?”

With one hand holding your trembling thigh open, Heeseung leaned down and spat against your clit. You gasped as your body jolted, head falling back against the table with a thump. You could feel it dribble down into your entrance as he added a third finger and moved faster inside of you, deeper. 

Heeseung watched intently as your chest rose and fell at an irregular rate, feeling you squeeze around his knuckles. 

“Fuck,” You licked at the corner of your lips and continued to mock him, “M-must hate being around such a needy girl like me who’ll use you for all your worth without a second thought—“

“Quiet,” He dug his fingers into the flesh of your cheeks, “Show me that tongue.”

You tilted your chin up and flashed your pink tongue at him without hesitation. That shameless expression of yours, paired with your dewy make-up, made his cock twitch heavily against the table as if you hadn’t just milked him dry. 

“You look like a real pretty mess, baby.”

Heeseung’s cock brushed against you as he leaned in close. With no effort, he spat harshly against your tongue, and the second his saliva hit, your mouth watered. Heeseung chuckled darkly, seeing that your eyes couldn’t have rolled further into your head.

“Yummy?”

You relished his saliva on your tongue and excitedly wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him against your core, “Fuck me.”

He pulled out his fingers and enjoyed the sweet taste of you on them, before kissing you mindlessly.

“That’s more like it, ___.” 

He tugged your ass to the edge of the table, then flipped you onto your stomach, forcing your feet to touch the floor. 

“I have a condom,” He mentioned, running his hand down your spine, and was prepared to reach for one.

“No, let me feel you. I’m on a pill,” You revealed.

Heeseung lazily swiped his fingers back and forth against your folds. “I see how it is….”

“Mm, god,” You pressed your cheek against the table and could hear the rustling of his jeans. 

“You can’t wait for me to fill you up with my hot cum, can you?”

“I can wait all day,” You lied through your teeth, “But clearly someone just likes to take their time— ah!”

You jerked against the table in surprise at the sharp slap of his palm over your ass. His eyes roved over the arch of your back and the curve of your ass appreciatively. 

“I’ll take all the time that I want. Now, be honest.”

Your nails dug into your bound hands; you wanted him inside you so badly. “Fuck….”

Another harsh slap landed against the same cheek.

“You wore this little skirt to show off this tight ass and perfect pussy,” Heeseung snapped his wrist, landing continuous small blows atop your skin that grew harder each time, causing your skin to turn red. “I can do this all night, and I don’t care who comes around that corner.”

He stopped to grip your ass cheeks and watch your flesh bulge over his fingers. Shortly after, Heeseung smacked your ass with the most force he’s used to date, and you couldn’t contain your broken moan. 

“You enjoy being what you are, and you know exactly what that is. Say it.”

Your lip began to sting from how tightly you were biting down on it to stifle your voice. He plunged his fingers back inside of you without warning, and you cried out, tensing around him in need, then he left you empty.

That felt so damn good.

Your plan to rile Heeseung up was indeed working, even though you weren’t sure where it’d lead the two of you. Even though you hadn’t ventured into such extreme dynamics in your sex life, with the way Heeseung submissively fell into step by your side earlier, you were burning to find out if you could take the heat. 

“You—You’re gonna have to make me,” You huffed.

Silence. Then more swishing of fabric.

Heeseung neatly gathered the ends of your hair and looped the strands around his hand until he was sinking his grip into your scalp. His bare chest pressed against your back, and at the same time, his rumbly voice tickled your ear. 

“If we were back at my place, I’d make you do all sorts of things…” The promise in his voice caused your skin to break out in goosebumps, “… But making you admit something as simple as that can certainly be done right now.”

The swollen tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, and there was hardly time to brace yourself when Heeseung eased into you at a begrudgingly slow pace. As he fed his raw cock into you, your walls contracted deliciously around his wide girth.

“Ah!”

“Easy, let me in,” He urged, thrusting in and out of you at a rather sweet tempo; he had yet to bottom out. “How else is my little slut going to get her daily dose of cum?”

A gush of your arousal soaked his length and trickled down your thighs as Heeseung worked you open. 

“So wet but so tight. Maybe I should just—“

He slammed the remaining way in, and pushed you up further onto the table. His hand sank into your hip, so you stayed right where he wanted you. 

“Oh, god!” 

Before you could fully adjust, he began to piston his hips into yours at a ruthless pace that made you drool uncontrollably. You tried to hide your moans, but Heeseung’s hold on your hair made you struggle to steady yourself on your forearms if you didn’t want it to be painful.

Intent on making you work a little, Heeseung guided you to curl up higher onto your elbows and eventually your palms with the slight tug of his fist. Sweat gathered at your temple from the effort of stabilizing yourself. 

His other hand moved from your hip to caress your bouncing tits under your sweatshirt, then smooth over your throat so he could bend you back even further and look you in the eye. 

That was when you realized he was going easy on you. Even with the unceasing thrusts of his cock, you could see him take a moment to tentatively check up on your state of being, and your heart swelled. 

“How’s that feel, baby?” Heeseung swiped at the drool beading along your lips, and you saw him note the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes.  

“So good, I can feel you so, so deep… I can take more,” You insisted. 

The clapping of his hips against your ass began to slow significantly, causing you to draw in a deep, painful breath. 

No, no, no—

“But, I thought you said you’re not my cum slut?” He released your hair as he straightened up, leaving you longing for his warmth against your back. “I just remembered, you’re not my little whore….”

So cruel.

He could feel your pussy fighting to keep him inside, but only his angry red tip remained as you tried to push back against him.

“No, don’t stop!” You begged, “I’m your… your….”

“You’re my what?”

Tears of frustration finally spilled down your cheeks which were burning from embarrassment as you helplessly stared at the blurry wall of the study room. “I’m your fucking cum slut. I’m— I’m your whore—“

You felt his strong hands wrap around your waist and arm to tug you up to sitting. He slid your bound hands over his head so you could cling to his neck as he pressed close to your tear-stained face. 

“Mm,” Heeseung soothed you, kissing your tears away, “And you’re so, so precious to me. You’re all mine, baby— Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm,” You hiccuped against his lips as his thumbs kneaded your puffy nipples, feeling like you were in a roller coaster of a dream.

There wasn’t a gleam of light in his eyes, yet you felt their heat consuming you. It felt natural to be held by him like this, with your sweaty chests pressed together and your ankles hooked at his lower back, breathing each other’s air. 

It never felt like this before, for you.

Heeseung filled you to the brim with his cock once more, “Good girl.”

The mere stretch of his girth had you clenching erratically, and likewise, you had him on the verge of coming a second time which was a feat in itself. Each quick drag of his cock along your walls was a solace; it made his balls spasm, and he found his thrusts growing more chaotic by the second. To be able to feel you uninhibited like this was a pleasure he couldn’t have fathomed, ever. 

“Bet you can’t even imagine how good you’re making my cock feel right now—“

Heeseung was so big, and never even came close to slipping out of you when he’d swiftly wind his hips up only to slam back in. Since his cock made you feel as if you’d burst, his tip kissed the deepest parts of your insides and made you feel completely inundated by his obsession to ruin you.

“Think you’re gonna be able to walk up in front of the class without looking like you got fucked every which way?”

You shook your head vigorously. He loved the way you tugged the damp hair at his nape harshly as a warning and could tell his words were getting to you. 

“I know, baby.”

“H-Heeseung—” You felt your tummy start to tense up, and your clit throb madly, “Ah-aah—”

“That’s it, beautiful—“

There was no need to say a word beyond his name, Heeseung knew you were ready. His deft fingers stroked your sensitive clit with precision, and he watched you come undone on his cock with rapt attention, like the most fascinating visual treat was unfolding before him. 

You were so entrenched in pleasure that you couldn’t utter a single word; white blinded your vision as your head fell back, and you felt Heeseung secure you as you seized around him, toes curling in your sneakers. 

With a yank, the collar of your sweatshirt slipped over your shoulder, and you felt him sink his teeth into the side of your neck— swore you heard a deep growl rip from his throat across your skin. It didn’t hurt at all, it just made you feel so weak. 

Heeseung knew he could count on you going utterly limp, and he stuffed you silly with his cock until his creamy cum spilled and sweetened your insides. His own limbs threatened to give out from the force of his release, but he braced himself over you with heavy pants until you tugged him down, wanting to feel his comforting weight on you. 

He groaned but cherished your embrace and swallowed your pleased sighs with a kiss that made it known you were loved. Heeseung licked over your bruised, glistening skin and murmured your name. 

“I’m really proud of you, baby, I know that was a lot. How do you feel?”

A single groan was your only response as you kept your eyes shut tight from pure exhaustion and bliss. 

“___.” Heeseung insisted on hearing your voice. 

“I’m fantastic…” That earned you a smile from him. 

Satisfied, Heeseung removed your clenched fists from around his neck and held your wrists in place to snap a taut portion of the ribbon with his teeth. The release of pressure was a relief; your skin had subtle marks from the ribbon that would disappear within an hour, but Heeseung rubbed gently at the slight indents while looking you over. 

“I’m not crazy,” Somehow you opened your eyes a smidge, head still pounding with dull pleasure, “You’re crazy.”

He kissed over your wrists and flushed knuckles. “Too crazy…?”

“No. No, I loved it. All of it,” You reassured him, already anticipating aches and pains.

“Was there anywhere I went overboard? You can always tell me, even if you think of something later.”

Heeseung pulled out slowly, and you watched as his warm cum oozed out of your entrance, pooling onto the table by your ass. He wore a teasing smile as he made sure to spread his cum over your pussy and then give it a light slap. 

You shuddered at the sensation. If he wasn’t careful, he’d definitely turn you on again.

“Oh my god. Um, uh…”

You were able to breathe easy when he returned to cleaning you up as gently as possible with a pack of wipes he unearthed from his bag.

“I really liked it all. It’s fun putting up a fight when you boss me around,” He snorted when you playfully tapped under his chin, “I guess you could always stand to be a little meaner to me, Hee.”

“Really? We’ll have to chat about that then,” He proposed.

“Sure… Mm,” You twitched as he dabbed a fresh wipe between your sticky thighs. Heeseung noticed and squeezed your thigh comfortingly.

“Don’t bother trying to move for the next five minutes. I’ll clean up here, then let’s get you something to eat.”

“Okay. Don’t you have work?” While you rearranged your clothing, you glanced out the window overlooking the campus and couldn’t believe the sun had already set. At least a couple of hours must’ve passed. 

Heeseung scurried about the room to gather his shirt and the abused textbooks he’d discarded in the heat of the moment.

“I took today and tomorrow off for finals. I’m all yours.”

Heeseung knew exactly what to say to make your face warm.  

You reached for a macaron off to the side and licked at the filling as your legs dangled over the edge of the tabletop. “Then can we pick up Thai and eat at your place? You still owe me some feedback on my project.”

“Yes. We can do anything you’d like.”

“Can I shower with you and sleep over again?”

Heeseung paused in his tracks and flashed you a knowing smile, “I’d like that a lot.”

You swiped his sweaty bangs away from his brown eyes that somehow still had a touch of naïveté in them and kissed him with a mouthful of buttercream. After several seconds, the books slipped from his grasp onto the floor, but neither of you flinched.

The two of you parted only to stare at each other in heat until you traced at his lower lip and he licked at the tips of your delicate fingers, placing kisses on each one— an ardent expression of devotion blended with desire.

All that you’ve ever wanted.

“Wouldn’t you, baby?”

—

A/N CONT.

Waaah, I loved writing this fic so much, almost as much as I love Heeseung. Please like, reblog or leave feedback if you enjoyed! Comments are always greatly appreciated 💗

For Hee’s characterization, I wanted to capture the different facets of what I think makes him loveable, and I adore how he came to life here. I reworked this fic a lot until I was satisfied. About 5 months has passed since I started working on this, and since then I’ve been working on my career, questioned my life choices because of it, wanted to give up in general, turned 24 (HELP), slept way too much, saw Enha 3x and got a flying kiss from Hee! 😵‍💫

Maybe I’ll share some concert photos bc he’s fucking stunning (they all are) and they put on a sublime performance through and through.

Anyways, I’m still figuring out life like the rest of you are. Woo.

Even though I write fiction and smut for fun, I wanted to make sure this was still a quality read with hopes to inspire more people to write about what fulfills them first and foremost. Before I abruptly left for a while, I felt a weird pressure from this site to perform and it hampered my creativity, making me super self-conscious. I think a lot of people can relate. I don’t want to sweat it though, because that can take the fun out of things.

Thus, any future fic posts will be like today’s; less frequent and more intentional when I’m ready. If you don’t mind that, feel free to stick around for the ride (a lot of you already do understand and I’m grateful). I’ll probably lurk a bit more here again since I’ve always liked Tumblr more than any other platform, you guys are my preferred deranged people heheh.

I did write NIIY so that I can continue Hee’s + MC’s story if I ever wanted to. If you followed me over half a year ago, then you know I lost all my fic drafts. Well, by a fucking miracle, I managed to recover everything just last week from my deleted google drive which is a MAJOR WIN. There’s a pretty obvious hint about what one of my next AU fics might be which was in my old drafts, but I’ll give more of an update of future fics when they’re closer to being finished which is likely months out.

If you ever want writing advice or just wanna talk Enha/recc fics feel free to tag or message me. 🙂⚰️

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears.

It’s common in the sweltering heat of the summer when the air is hot and sticky. Maids running around to tend to the evenings balls and parties only for the sweat to breach their fingers and suddenly their stack of fine china goes tumbling to the ground.

A bed of hyacinths sits in front of you as you bring up the hose and spray them down, watching through the tinted glass as two male helpers rush to the woman on the ground, quickly helping her clean up the shards of glass.

Turning your attention back to the plants in front of you, you turn the hose off and roll it back into the corner as you skip to the end of the greenhouse where there’s your mother’s desk space. It’s a measly little space but she hardly sits there anyways, always tending to the gardens in the courtyards, leaving the floral and herbal greenhouses under your care while she’s away.

After all, your mother is a gardener and botanist in the Hong palace, and having been a trusted employee for the past half decade since your father passed, she exudes the little privileges of getting to bring her daughter to work.

At least that’s what you think, because you’re only nine years old and naive.

She teaches you well—you’ve only been accompanying her on the weekends when you don’t have school, but you’ve already picked up on how to tell the differences between an infected plant and an unaffected one, the characteristics of a good caterpillar and the characteristics of a bad one, the exact amount you should water each species, and exactly when you should let the vapor run down.

It’s easy work, and you love it.

You love sitting at your mother’s desk and imagining what it’d be like to be her—successful and working in the castle, doing what you love instead of working some stupid nine to five. You love looking out the glass of the greenhouses every few moments when you pause reading your book. You love the rare moments when you get to lay your eyes on one of the members of the royal family walking by.

You’ve started to pick up on their characters in the small frame of time you get to see them when they pass by. The Queen has kind eyes, the King is a bit intimidating, and Prince Joshua … Prince Joshua has soft features you can’t quite read.

“He’s only a year older than you!” one of your friends from school said when you told her that you stayed at the castle during the weekends to help your mother. “You should marry him and become princess!”

You had to push her away and watch her disappointed eyes when you told her that you hardly get to see him for more than ten seconds, even on the rare occasions that he crosses your vision.

The sound of glass shattering isn’t foreign to your ears, but hearing it more than twice in one hour does have some alarms ringing in your head. When you glance back up at the window, time stops.

Your mother is on the ground. Limbs sprawled out with eyes wide in horror, she scrambles against the rough stone path as a man looms over her. He dons a deep purple robe—the kind that belongs to the advisors of the Court—and your young mind races through the possibilities of what warrants the disgusted look on his face.

“Sneaking around with royal blood. Who do you think you are?”

A man watches, dark and brooding from the corner, and then you recognize him. Advisor Lee. He stops by the greenhouses sometimes—a high advisor of the Counsel and distance relative of the King’s. You’re nine years old and naive, but you are not dense.

Something had happened between your mother and Advisor Lee. Something tells you it’s more than you can understand, but in this moment, you feel you understand perfectly.

“You whore,” the man in the dark robes spits out, punctuating his disgust with a stomp of his feet right by your mother’s leg.

You’re only nine years old, but that is old enough to know that that is not a nice word. Nine years old, and you know that that means a very bad thing. Nine years old and when you look at your mother’s grief stricken face, you are certain that everything is about to change.

Your house was always on the edge of the town. Before the affair between Advisor Lee and your mother, it was because she liked having the space to open a garden in your backyard. The city is crowded and full of bustling roads and buildings—it’s no fit for the small cottage that she wanted.

Now, after the affair, your house is on the edge of the town for a different reason.

The first day after your mother is fired from her position at the castle, you go to school with your head hanging low. It’s in the city, and for the first time in your five years of schooling, your mother tells you to go alone.

“I can’t—I shouldn’t drive you anymore,” she tells you as you pack your backpack. She walks you to the bus station and hands you a paper telling you which stop to get off at and how to walk to school from there.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting when you two walk up to the little stop by the street, but when you approach the small crowd of people waiting for the next bus to come in, their chatter hushes. Sparing glances at you and your mother, they whisper—some hushed, some blatant, some sad, some angry.

That’s where she stops and puts a heavy hand on your shoulder. “You can take it from here, yeah?” she asks, but you know it’s not really a question. Nodding, you slowly walk towards the crowd of people as the next bus parks in front of the stop.

You don’t turn around and look at your mother because you know that’d be a mistake. Instead, you let your neck droop, following the quiet crowd as they pile into the bus, clutching the strings of your backpack.

There aren’t any places to sit, so you reach for a pole but suddenly the bus starts and you lurch forward, falling to the ground. There’s black and brown dust on the palms of your hand as you push yourself up, no one saying a word or bothering to help as you keep your head down and grip onto a pole.

The knees of your stockings are dirtied, and it’s the only thing you look at the whole ride, it’s the only thing you look at when you silently take the walk to school, and it’s the only thing you look at when you make your way onto campus.

It’s the whispers again, and as you quietly sink into your normal seat, you hear them louder.

Did you hear about her mother? She isn’t allowed in the castle grounds anymore. What did her mother do? I can’t believe she showed up, I’d be crying at home. I wonder what she’s thinking—

Nothing. You think nothing when your teacher announces that class will be starting. All you focus on is the board and your notebook. You spend your recess and lunch at the school’s library, and as soon as the final bell rings, you scurry off campus and towards the bus station.

It isn’t like the morning—people don’t hush and stare, but nine years old is smart enough to know that it’s because they don’t know you’re your mother’s daughter. There aren’t any empty seats just like the morning but this time, a nice gentleman offers you his spot.

You can tell he isn’t so sure of his decision though, when you finally get off at your stop and you run off to your mother who’s waiting for you by the bench. From the corner of your vision, you watch the man through the bus window, jaw tight and gaze cold as he watches you slip your hand into your mother’s.

Your mother doesn’t talk on the short walk home. She doesn’t ask you about school and she doesn’t ask you about what the other kids said. You figure that she doesn’t need to hear it anyways, and so you purse your lips together.

You have a lot to get used to.

Your life doesn’t change much, and you get used to it.

School days are spent with your head buried in a new book with every break you have. Your time at home is nothing but studying and your mother teaching you how to tend to the garden in your yard.

Soon you are graduating and moving on with your life as you make the transition to college, although you can’t say much changes. You study, you read, and occasionally you commission a project. It’s usually just renovating a citizen’s yard, sometimes it’s designing a public garden, but it’s never anything too serious.

Right now, you’re perched on a wooden stool, elbows leaning on the counter as you swipe your thumb over your tongue to flip the next page of your book. The paper is worn through, soft under your touch as a show for all it’s been through—bought second hand from your boss.

Your boss is a kind old man who happened to be a friend of your late grandfather’s, and when his little bookstore was teetering on the edge of being forgotten, you couldn’t refuse the offer to step in to work.

You’re around halfway through the book when you hear the familiar ringing of the bell above the door, head snapping up only to see your boss at the front door with a few envelopes in one hand, a plastic bag in the other.

“Holding up the fort, I see,” he greets with a low chuckle as you stand up and walk over, taking the bag from his hand to help out.

“As always, Mr. Min,” you reply, setting the bag of books down on the counter. “Are these—”

“They’re your mothers. I was walking by your house this morning and she asked me to take these and add them to our stock, since she said she doesn’t need them anymore.”

“Huh,” you say softly, taking out the various books about plants. “Not sure how big the market for gardening books is anymore, but I’m sure I can add it to our catalog after hours today,” you mutter, setting them on the table behind the register as he places the letters in his hand.

“Your mother also told me to give you this,” he says, his tone an octave lower as he plucks out one the envelopes and hands it to you. You knit your eyebrows together, wiping your dusty hands down on your pants before taking a look at it. “It’s from—”

“The castle,” you whisper, holding the envelope closer to your face to make sure you’re seeing it correctly. “Oh my god—it’s from the castle.”

“Yeah. Must be important if your mom felt the need to send it through me instead of just waiting for you to come home and take a look at it.”

“A-are you sure this is meant for me?” you manage to ask, flipping the envelope over a few times to make sure you read your name correctly.

“Yup,” Mr. Min replies, pointing down at where the intended recipient is listed. Sure enough, it’s your name listed in dark and bold ink in one corner, and then there’s that stupid royal emblem of the sun in the other corner.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at the possibilities of what could be inside, raking your mind for an answer. Was something wrong? Was it about your mother? Or was this just some big mistake?

Dear Madam,

The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.

Your reputation with your mother’s work as well as the operation of your own gardens throughout the city, along with your academic achievements at our very own Hong University have reached our ears, and we believe you possess the skills required for a special project we have in mind.

You will have the opportunity to lead this project as you please and earn a notable financial sum in payment for your efforts.

Please indicate your acceptance by replying to this letter at your earliest convenience. We eagerly await your response and sincerely hope that you will be able to grace our kingdom with your talent and presence.

Thank you,

Hong Royal Counsel

You don’t have to read the letter more than once before you scoff, tossing the crisp paper and letting it drift down onto the counter before muttering under your breath, “Who do they think they are?” Crumpling the envelope and letter up, you throw it down into the trash can by your chair.

Knocks on your door aren’t normal. The delivery and mailmen know better than to do that, leaving your packages and mail by the doorstep and doing no more than that.

Knocks on your door usually mean Mr. Min is here for something—picking up some of the veggies your mother grew because the store prices are too high, dropping off a book, or indulging in some pleasantries and casual small talk.

It’s eight in the morning when you hear the soft rapping against your front door. Your mom is in the kitchen and your room, right next to the foyer, has walls thin enough to let the sounds through. You’re on your bed though, and it’s comfortable, warm, and it’s too early to be out and about anyways. You’ve just spent the past nine months laboring away at college, so you’re granting yourself these few moments of peace in the morning.

Pressing your head into the pillow, you try to drown out the noise of your mother conversing with Mr. Min this early in the morning. After you hear the door open, there’s a silence and for a moment, you think you’ve succeeded in plugging your ears well enough.

You’re about to smile to yourself and drift back into a heavy sleep before you hear a loud gasp.

It takes a lot to surprise your mother—you’ve come to learn that in recent years. It takes a lot to stun her, to have her gasp as you just heard. Scurrying out of bed, you press your ear against the wall in hopes to catch a glimpse of what’s going on.

All you hear is silence.

It hardly takes a second for you to shove off your blankets and throw yourself into the hallway, rushing towards the foyer where you see your mother standing in front of the open door. She stays unmoving and you wince for a few moments, eyes still adjusting to the morning light as you make your way closer to the door to see what exactly has her so shocked.

And then you catch it: a glint of that wretched, golden sun emblem stitched onto a purple velvet coat.

“What the f—”

Your mother’s hand flies up and grabs your wrist tightly. It’s the first time you see her move, and as she turns around to face you with dark, warning eyes, you press your lips shut as you glance over her shoulder. In front of your doorstep is a man you never thought you’d get to see in person again, not after that day.

Prince Joshua is just as handsome as the tabloids and social media make him out to be, and his presence in your life also seems to be equally infuriating.

“What is he doing here?” you hiss, pulling your mother closer to you so she’s close enough to hear you.

Her eyes are somber, and you silently wonder how she can be so calm, so docile, so—so tame. “They’re here for you,” she whispers, turning her whole body so her back faces the prince.

“What are you talking about? Why would—”

“The letter sent to you from the kingdom. I thought you told me it was a mistake.”

“It was,” you mutter, eyes glancing at Prince Joshua behind her. His gaze is averted, presumably out of respect for the conversation you’re having with your mother right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to appreciate him for it.

“Then why is he asking for your name?”

You gulp anxiously, eyes flickering between your mother’s eyes and the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to him. It must be important,” she orders, walking forward and toward the kitchen and you grab her shoulder quickly.

“Are you kidding me? Why—why would I talk to him? Why would I talk to any of them?” you argue louder than you intended, and your mother swats your hand away sharply.

“They’re royalty,” she says, voice strained with caution.

“And? It’s not medieval times where they actually rule over us so—”

Your mother sighs heavily and then it hits you that no matter how much logic you try to expend, it’d be futile. “Talk to him. It isn’t quite like you have a choice.”

“You of all people shouldn’t put up with this,” you state and the second the words leave your lips, you regret it. Her face hardens and there’s a cold feeling that sinks in your stomach as she frees herself of your grasp and marches away.

You’re left watching her back fade into the rest of your house as your eyes are wide and you’re becoming increasingly aware of the presence of another person behind you. A person who is very important and very famous and very much a representation of all the things you loathe.

Turning on your heel, you don’t bother to push your lips up into a morning grin facing Prince Joshua with tired eyes and frown etched into your mouth. Taking a deep breath, you glance back at your mother who is in a far off room, deciding that whatever he needs to say to you, she doesn’t need to hear.

Slipping on some slippers, you quickly walk out of the house and close the door behind you, putting you right in front of Prince Joshua who waits for you with bright eyes.

“Hi,” he greets, voice airy and light as he takes a few steps back so he can bow, of which you begrudgingly return. “Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, I was just taking care of some work in the area and was told to stop by and talk to you about something.”

He sounds sincere, and his lips curve into a pleasant expression when he speaks, and you wonder if he’s plain stupid playing dumb to save you the humiliation of the situation—a royal prince speaking to the daughter of ‘a slut who seduced the royal advisor.’

So unable to decipher anything about his true intentions, you ask bluntly, “Is it about the letter I got from the kingdom two weeks ago?”

Prince Joshua chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and you catch the fancy white fabric of his buttoned up shirt underneath the coat. “I mean, yes it is and—”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why do you guys even bother sending letters? It’s the 21st century, you know? Emails exist.”

His face reddens, looking away before pursing his lips together. “Some things are just kept out of tradition,” Prince Joshua reasons quickly. “But I totally understand that, we’ll keep emailing in mind. But for the meantime, that’s, uh, kind of what I’m here for. We didn’t hear back a response, and I would like to take your answer back to the castle for you.

“Isn’t no response enough of a response?”

“Well—”

“My answer is no, if that wasn’t obvious,” you say, turning back to the door. “Is that all?”

“Wait!” he exclaims, grabbing your arm with his white leather gloves. It’s a bit surprising, really—he seems awfully timid for a prince and you’re a bit unnerved by how he hasn’t reprimanded you yet for being disrespectful. “Is there a reason why you don’t want to take on the job? If there are some specifics, maybe we can adjust the arrangement so it’s more to your liking.”

Your eyes widen, bewildered. “What? No I—I don’t care for anything like that, I won’t take the job.”

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” he mutters under his breath before his eyebrows knit together as he looks at the ground, seemingly trying to figure something out. “Is it the money? We can negotiate your salary,” he offers and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not the money—I don’t care about the money,” you say harshly. “It’s not any of that, I just don’t want to.”

“Can you tell me why? It’s just, I’ll have to report this back to the Counsel and if I’m not able to recruit you, they’d at least want some reasoning for why.”

Inhaling sharply, it takes all your self control to not let your eye twitch and slam the door in his face. “Are you really asking me why I don’t want to?” Pursing your lips together, you glare at him harshly. “You were there that day, weren’t you?” you ask more quietly, and for a moment you see Prince Joshua falter. “Not that I’d expect you to care but surely you can at least understand why I don’t want to.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I really can’t change the past.”

Scoffing, you turn on your heel and open the door. “I’m not asking you to.”

“Wait—just wait a sec’!” he calls out, stopping the door with his palm before you close it. “You’re in your second year at Hong University, right?” He doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “We’ll pay for the rest of your tuition.”

The air in your lungs seems stuck for a passing moment, and you shake your head to yourself, stepping into your house and turning around one last time with cold eyes and a deep frown. “No.”

The prince looks around hastily before blurting out, “We’ll do all of it!”

“All of what?”

“We’ll pay for all of your tuition—reimburse you for what you’ve already paid.” You don’t care. You shouldn’t care. “All of it, plus your hourly wage,” he adds, and you don’t even have a chance to think before you feel your mother’s hand on your back.

“She’ll do it.”

Your mother chuckles as she helps you tie the lavender colored robe around your waist. You’re not sure what she finds so funny about this, but you bite your tongue when you start to catch on how she ties the ribbons with such ease.

Over ten years of being away from the castle can’t erase the time she spent there, tying her own robe every morning before she was stripped of her title, and in turn, also the life she worked so hard to build up.

As you look down at the smooth fabric sent to you a week earlier from the castle, you’re forced to begrudgingly admire the intricate embroidery. The collar and ribbons are decorated with a darker purple stitching that runs in all sorts of twists and turns and swivels around the curves of your body.

“They’ve made them look nicer since I’ve last seen them,” she thinks out loud, matting her hands down your shoulders to smooth the fabric down one last time before taking a look.

“I don’t understand why you’re still so—” You inhale sharply and press your lips together, warning yourself to not say anything more when she shoots you a cautionary look. “Sorry,” you mutter, turning away so you can glance at yourself in the mirror. You do look pretty nice, if you had to admit.

“Just think about the money,” your mother encourages. “They’re covering the cost of all your schooling—all those days spent at Mr. Min’s can now go towards things you enjoy, rather than paying for your university.”

“I guess,” you grumble, adjusting your hair one last time before grabbing your phone and keys, walking towards the foyer.

“You know the way right?” your mother calls out as you slip on your shoes and walk out onto the front porch.

“I wish I didn’t,” is all you say, low and under your breath as you make your way to the car.

The castle lies in the heart of the city, so it’s quite the drive. You’re careful as you try to keep your robes clean, bunching it up to your thighs as you drive, and once you’ve made your way to the castle, you’re sure to make sure the hem of the bottom doesn’t hit the ground.

Reporting to the entrance that was given in your email (why they send emails for instructions but not the actual invitation to your job still remains a mystery to you), you carefully tuck your phone into a crevice of your robes.

The entrance starts at a gate on the east end of the castle, and you make your way to the little hut that sits at one end where a woman in a lavender polo and dress pants sits at a desk. Knocking on the window, you smile nervously as she looks up from her papers.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes!” you say, holding up your phone and pointing to your first day instructions. “It’s my first day here, and I’m not sure how to get inside and all.”

“Did they give you a code?”

“Uh, yeah let me check again,” you murmur, looking back at your phone to find the 5 digit code you were sent. “It’s, uh—32423.” The lady hums and nods, checking something on her computer before looking up at you with a smile.

“That’s correct. From now on you can just come through the smaller gate on the side—it should be to the left of this big gate, and just put in whatever code you have. It changes every few days but you’ll be notified with the new password every time it does.”

“Thank you,” you say, glancing over your shoulder to look at the gate she’s talking about.

“For now, just follow me. Since it’s your first day, I’ll show you the way to the … where was it you need to get to?”

“Right here it says the Advisory Quart?”

The girl’s eyes widen as she sits up from her seat and walks out of the hut, leading you toward the smaller gate. “Seriously?” she asks as she punches in the code, the gate automatically opening once she’s done.

The gate leads to a narrow pathway that runs slightly uphill in the midst of a lush field of trimmed green grass and sparse flowers that was previously hidden from you by the large stone halls. You remember the scene vaguely, but it’s a lot lovelier in person than you remember. Glancing up the pathway, you catch sight of the large castle in front of you, and the vision has an uneasy feeling floating in your stomach.

“Uh yeah, is that surprising?” you respond, hoping the small talk will distract you, even if it’s only a little.

“I mean the Advisory Quart is no joke. Those people work like crazy dogs—” she says with a laugh before looking at you with wide eyes. “Wait, I’m sorry—please don’t tell anyone I said that, they’ll—”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. But please do continue—what were you saying? I haven’t been in that castle in a long—I’ve never been to the castle before, so I’m not up to speed with all the different Quarts and sectors and stuff.”

“Oh well, it’s just that the Advisory Quart does a lot of work … I swear they’re always running around, talking about some new project they’re working on,” she says as you follow her up some steps, nearing an entrance to a building connected to the castle.

“What kind of projects?” you ask curiously.

“Oh gosh, everything, I tell you, they do pretty much everything. From helping the King with his own decisions to doing absolutely random, huge projects, there always seems to be someone who’s on top of everything. I remember I had a friend whose husband worked up there—they were working on designing a whole new ballroom and no one had any idea why! So what are you going to be doing there?”

Chuckling nervously, you aren’t sure if you should tell this girl that you don’t really know. “One of those random projects, I assure you,” you tell her because you’re pretty sure it’s true. After all, you’re almost positive they won’t have you be doing anything that’s worthwhile.

“Ah, well you’ll probably be swamped either way,” the girl says with a sigh as you reach a large wooden door. “Anyways, we’ll part ways here. Just go through these doors and there’ll be a big hallway. Ignore all the different corridors and doors on the side, and just go straight and you can see there’s an open room at the end of this hallway. That’s where your check-in will be, and the people there will direct you to wherever you need to go.”

You blink a few times, taking in all the information before nodding meekly, bowing and thanking the girl for her time as she walks away. Taking a deep breath, you open the door with a loud creaking noise, stepping into the grand hallway.

The walls are beige with ornate accents lining the bottom and top, intricate designs carved into the ceilings that hang chandeliers in intervals. Your sandals clack against smooth travertine marble as your eyes roam the entrances to different corridors and rooms, doors dark and wooden, similar to the one you just entered through.

There aren’t many people in the long hallways, passing by only a few others who seem to have their attention busied by papers or their phone. Some of them are wearing similar fashioned robes to yours, while most of the others are wearing the same lavender colored polo and white slacks as the girl who brought you here.

Smoothing the fabric below your waist one more time as you near the large open room you were directed to, you glance around and find a desk with a kind looking receptionist talking to a man wearing your kind of robes.

Quietly approaching the desk, you stand a few feet behind him, patiently waiting for them to finish so you can step up. Neither of them seem to notice, being caught up in a conversation that seems a bit of a mix of professional and leisurely.

Twiddling with your fingers behind your back, you rock side to side on your feet as you wait for the two to finish up talking about how they’re excited for the next ball that’s coming up, not bothering to think about who these people might be and why they’re even invited to it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man at the counter calls out, “I can help you.” He smiles and waves you over before nudging the other man on his shoulder. “Seokmin, go—you’re distracting me.”

The man he pushed is a handsome looking guy, light brown hair falling just above his eyes as he turns around and gives a small smile, stepping to the side but not fully backing away. “Ah, sorry about that. Go ahead, we were just catching up.”

“No worries,” you say quickly, walking up to the receptionist. “I’m here to find the Advisory Quart I think? I was told to report to this entrance, and the lady at the front told me to come here—it’s my first time here so—”

“Your first time in the castle?” the other man asks you with wide eyes.

“Uh, well—”

“Don’t mind him—Seokmin, you know better than to mess with the newbies,” the receptionist murmurs, and you frown at the word. He catches on and looks up at you, holding a hand out. “No offense.”

“N-none taken. So could you help me—I’m really not sure where to go.”

“Yeah of course. Does your email say who you’ll be reporting to?”

“It says here ‘Mr. Park.’”

“Oh okay, his room number’s going to be 77, right down that corridor right there,” the receptionist tells you kindly, pointing at one of the side hallways you saw while walking here. “Since it’s your first day, I’ll let him know that you’ll be coming down so he can be ready. I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Thank you so much,” you say bowing, quickly telling him your name. So caught up in the kindness of these peers, you almost forgot why you were so reluctant to come here in the first place, but no worries, this receptionist does a good job of reminding you.

His lips press into a thin line as raises a brow, asking you to repeat your last name again. When your answer slips from your lips, it’s much quieter. A heavy cloud sinks over you as you realize that even after years away, your family name is still tainted.

“Okay,” the receptionist finally says briskly, and you’re taken aback by how cold his voice has become. “I’ll let him know you’re coming down. You can proceed now.”

He doesn’t give you a ‘good luck,’ or a ‘have a nice day,’ or a ‘do you have any questions,’ despite his cheery attitude from before. Now he’s looking at you with an expressionless face and eyes that won’t meet yours as you shamefully turn away.

So caught up in the disappointment, you hardly notice how the other man—Seokmin—is still watching the scene unfold. As you walk away from the open room, there’s a hand on your wrist. Whipping around, you’re faced with a Seokmin whose face seems unreadable, just like the receptionists. Except something is … different. He seems sincere, and you feel safe.

“You might get lost trying to get there,” Seokmin says rather casually, letting go of your hand and walking next to you. “Come on, I’ll show you the way—I’m working under Mr. Park too actually, I’m his intern—so I know the way pretty well and can fill you in on what he’s like.”

You wonder why Seokmin isn’t acting like the receptionist. Your family name is still somewhat taboo in the city outside the castle, so you were pretty confident when walking into the actual place of the ‘crime scene’ that you’d be even more … generally disliked.

Seokmin seems to be different though, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Seokmin lets you know Mr. Park is mean when he wants, which seems to be always. Direct with his words but also, you have to read in between the lines sometimes if you don’t want to get scolded. You’re not sure what to do with that information, because Seokmin doesn’t tell you much else.

You walk down the corridor with him before stopping in front of a wooden door to your right, labeled with that familiar sun emblem and a golden plated plaque reading ‘77.’ “C’mon, he should be in here right now,” Seokmin says, pressing against the frame and pushing the door open.

Inside is a room unlike the others you’ve seen before. The ceiling is much lower and baskets of plants hang from it, vines lining the limestone walls, and pots and beds of plants sit by the smaller desks that litter the area. There’s a larger desk at the end opposite to the door, and you see a man with grey hair and firm eyes sitting at the ornate chair, reading through a stack of papers.

“Ah, Seokmin,” he says, standing up when he notices the two of you by the door, and it’s not you realize that this man is Mr. Park. Both you and Seokmin bow hastily. “I was waiting for the two of you to arrive.” His gaze then turns to you, and it’s sharp. “What took you so long?” His tone is harsh and you almost wince. “It isn’t your first time in the castle,” Mr. Park says bluntly, and for once you are taken aback because no one has addressed the cloud hanging over your head so directly yet.

“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t been here in—”

“No excuses. Don’t be late again.”

“Y-yes sir,” you reply meekly, faltering in your step a little.

Mr. Park sighs heavily and looks at Seokmin, waving him off. “Go to the Ballroom and ask around to see if they need anything for tonight. Don’t be slow like last time.”

“Yes sir! Right on it,” Seokmin says with a nod, quickly turning on his heel and scurrying out of the room.

“And for you …” Mr. Park mutters as he takes in your figure with an unnerving look on his face. “I need you to lead a project.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. “Lead a project? I don’t even know what—”

“Word has it that the Prince himself had to bribe you with a whole four years of Hong tuition to get you here. Surely you didn’t think you’d be given light work.” people knew about that?

“Well, I didn’t know much about anything and I don’t even know what work I’m supposed—”

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough,” Mr. Park tells you briskly, walking over to his desk where a large chalkboard sits to its left. Using a stick, he points at a word written in a corner. Garden. “The Queen has a courtyard that she no longer likes the look of. It’s been stripped down, and you’re in charge of turning it into a garden of her liking.”

You knit your eyebrows together. “A-a whole courtyard?”

Mr. Park raises a brow. “Are you saying that it’s too much for you?”

“N-no!” you exclaim quickly. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I don’t get why I would be chosen to do this.”

Mr. Park huffs, and you wonder how such a tiny old man can fit so much sass in him. “If you must know: the Queen loved how your …” he pauses and within a fraction of a second you have a feeling where this is going, “… your mother designed the gardens on the West end.”

Mr. Park walks towards his desk and sits down, not looking at you as he cards through a few binders. “The Queen wants a similar style for this courtyard but since we can’t exactly have her back …”

You wince for real this time as you conclude, “… you tried to get the next closest thing.”

Mr. Park nods, not returning a snarky comment this time, much to your pleasure. “I’m the head of Design & Architecture, by the way, if you have any questions ask me—as long as it’s not stupid. You lead your project—design it and plan it. When you need people to work on it just talk to Seokmin and he’ll assign someone. You have three months to finish it. If you need an extension, you’ll have to get it approved by me.”

“Okay,” you respond quickly, trying to take in all the information at once. “Is there, like, a theme? Anything she wants in particular?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Mr. Park says bluntly and you frown as he points at a desk behind you. “Your desk is there. Any information you need will be there.”

“Y-yes sir, thank you,” you say, bowing and turning on your heel to sit down at your new chair. The desk is dark, wooden, and completely barren except for a thin folder set in the middle. Opening it, there’s a single paper inside with only a few bullet points typed out, and it hardly takes you a moment to read through all of it.

It’s vague—your only real requirements are the adherence to the kingdom’s symbolic purple colors, and inclusion of a general theme throughout the courtyard.

You furrow your eyebrows at the lack of guidance—were you really left to make such major decisions about such a large space in a castle you haven’t been in years? There’s so much room for error and disappointment and rejection, and after the past years of being treated like your family was nothing but a mistake, you aren’t sure if you can handle any more of it.

Closing your eyes, you absentmindedly nod to yourself in a silent promise. Closing the folder, you stand up. “Mr. Park, sir, do you know where the courtyard—”

“There is a map on the wall. Figure it out.”

You huff, glancing at the large map of the castle next to the chalkboard. This is going to be harder than you thought.

You run into Seokmin just as you leave 77, and he helps lead you to the courtyard. “So you’re working on this one, huh,” he says under his breath as you both appear in front of a large plot of land surrounded by castle buildings on all sides. You’re both standing on the East entrance to the courtyard, and there are four adjacent and opposite entrances on all other sides.

“Uh, yeah,” you say steadily, glancing back down at your minimal instructions before looking back up at the courtyard. It’s a square, and if you had to estimate, each side would be around 50 yards long, leaving quite a great deal of space for you to work with it.

“Pretty big project, huh,” Seokmin says, although his tone seems much more lighthearted than your mood. How the hell are you supposed to transform this in three months?

“Yeah,” you mutter, squinting at the bright sunlight as you analyze the plot.

“You know, I can totally help if you want,” Seokmin begins to say, and you take note of how quickly he talks. “I don’t know if Mr. Park told you but you can basically ask me for help on anything and like, I’m really doing this whole interning thing for fun—” Who the hell works as an intern for Mr. Park, for fun? “—so I’d be happy to help.”

“Thanks. I’ll ask if I need anything.”

“Great!” Seokmin cheers, clapping his hands together before looking behind your shoulder and letting his smile brighten. He waves at someone behind you and you purse your lips together, wondering if you should brace yourself for yet another salty interaction.

“Minnie!” a deep voice greets and suddenly, your feet seem glued in their spot. You know that voice.

“Shua, hey!” Seokmin says cheerily, and you silently cringe. “Crazy running into you here, gosh, I haven’t seen you since last week!”

Prince Joshua laughs, and it reminds you of all those years ago when you watched him from inside the greenhouse. You hate how you remember.

“Yeah, my fencing instructor let me off earlier so I thought I might browse around the castle for a bit,” he explains, and when it all goes quiet and you realize that he must be looking at you, but you don’t dare to turn around.

“Oh,” Seokmin exclaims, as if he’s just realized that he forgot something. You feel a tapping on your shoulder, and for a second you debate just running the other way and never letting yourself return to the castle but for something, you’re planted in your place. “Hey, look,” he says quietly in your ear, “It’s the Prince.”

Like you don’t fucking know that. Nodding, you slowly follow his lead and turn around, eyes trained on the ground as you bow.

“Oh, well if it isn’t that little ray of sunshine,” Prince Joshua says, and it takes everything to not let your eye twitch as you finally look up at him. He’s wearing the same royal uniform you say to him when you showed up on his doorstep and his eyes are crinkled as he smiles widely.

Your face burns as Seokmin’s eyes flicker back and forth between you, and your lips are pressed together in an awkward silence. “You know each other?” His face displays nothing but perplexion for a few moments but then it seems that some of the cogs turned and his lips open wide into a large ‘o,’ and Seokmin waves his finger while nodding. “Oh you’re the girl Shua said he had to offer four years worth of—”

“Seokmin,” Prince Joshua interrupts, putting his hand over his friend’s mouth after catching the look of mortification on your face for bringing it up. “Mr. Park was calling you, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ugh, are you kidding me? I thought this would be fun for the summer but he actually has me doing stuff!” As the two converse casually, you wonder how hard it’d be to quickly slip away.

“Not sure what you expected,” Joshua chides his friend before Seokmin groans and you hear the heavy footsteps of him walking away. He calls out your name once and your eyes shoot up as you bashfully wave your hand at him, bidding goodbye.

You’re left in this corridor with the empty thoughts in your head and the goddamn prince of the kingdom. You half expect him to just wave at you and go about his own business, but it seems like you still have a lot of learning to do.

After all, Prince Joshua is a fickle man. “It’s nice to see you again, Sunshine,” he greets, and you think you might pass out from embarrassment. Glancing around, you see a few maids overhear him using the name and murmuring their own whispers amongst themselves as they rush away.

“H-hi,” you say nervously, suddenly aware that much attention is on you now that the prince is speaking to you.

“So this is what you’re working on?” he asks curiously, not paying a single mind to your awkwardness, walking toward the door which leads to the East entrance to the courtyard.

“Yes sir,” you murmur. You could be snappish outside the walls and in the boundaries of your own home but here, you’re bound by royal courtesy and witnesses that surround you. Compliance is all you can manage out in the open.

“Don’t call me sir—you’re around the same age as me, so it feels weird,” Joshua says dismissively, and you furrow your brows at how casual he’s being. “So,” he starts, looking out at the empty yard of dirt, “you got any idea of what you’re going to do with it?”

“Not a clue,” you reply honestly, keeping your answers brisk. Joshua seems to catch on and he pouts at you. How can a man act so childish? The thought lingers in your head for a moment before he starts talking to you.

“So cold. Brighten up Sunshine. I’ll stop in soon to see how it’s going here—I’m interested!” he says cheerily before stepping back and nodding. You bow as he walks away, waving to you one last time before leaving you in the corridor with not a single thought in his mind.

There seems to be a distinct odd air around the prince, except you can’t quite place why that is.

It’s been three weeks since you started working at the castle—time passes quickly when you have loads of work to do and not much time to do it. You spent the first week hunched over at your desk simply raking your mind for ideas, for anything that would give you even a smidge of inspiration.

77 is rather sparse. It’s only really you and Mr. Park actually working in there, with the occasional Seokmin running in and out to tend to everyone’s miniscule needs.

And then there’s Jihoon, who is the only other person who actually works at his desk, even if it’s only for an hour a day. Jihoon is slightly brooding and always has his nose buried in some work, but he seems standoff-ish to just about everyone. He isn’t unkind though, just … just reserved, and you feel thankful that there’s another person somewhat like you here.

77 is kind to you and your heart. Everyone works on their own schedule and is in their own head, and no one seems to treat you extraordinarily different. You wish the same would go for the rest of the castle.

On the second day of your work, the embroidered name on the fabric over your right breast was clear enough for people to start learning who you were and recognize your face.

But you’re used to the stares—both the subtle and obvious ones—and you are used to the whispers, the guessing games about whether or not you’re a slut just like your mother was.

You’re not, by the way, but you’ve had enough experience with these kinds of people to know that they can guess all they want but you know the answer, and the truth will come to light at some point. You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, they'll figure it out on their own. Eventually.

By the second week, you figured out a plan and needed to get to work on executing it. Seokmin seemed to be pleased when you asked him for help on that.

“I need people who can build a pathway,” was all you needed to tell him and then he was on the phone, and then the next day you had ten men ready for you by the dirt field ready to work. “I want stone tiles and it needs to curve exactly like this,” you told them, showing them a scaled down map of the area with a long, curvy line running from the North to South ends, and another even more curvy one running from the East to West end.

They didn’t ask questions, which you’re grateful for, because coming up with it was a whole feat on its own. Explaining it would be a whole other story.

As you walk up to the castle’s entrance today, you catch sight of a girl who sits in her little hut in front of the East gate. She’s the same girl who helped you on the first day, you realize. She was kind then, you remember, but now as you meet her gaze, she turns away and pretends to go back to her phone.

You don’t frown or let the gesture sear your heart because in all honesty, that’s exactly what you’re expecting. Sighing, you make your way to the smaller gate and walk the small way up to the actual castle grounds before heading straight to 77.

Jihoon is sitting at his desk but is just about to get up, sending you a quick nod as he stacks his files and walks out of the room. Mr. Park isn’t here, for once, although you did overhear some information about a ball happening tonight so you figure he must be busy.

You’re thankful Seokmin is here, and you catch him watering one of the plants. “Hey, what are you doing?” you ask him hastily, walking up behind his back before grabbing the watering pot from his hands.

“Um … watering … the plants?”

“These are yarrows,” you emphasize, pointing at the white flowers he was just watering.

“Okay … I am really not sure what to do with that information,” Seokmin says slowly as if he isn’t quite processing your words.

Huffing, you tell him, “Yarrows don’t need a lot of water. You aren’t watering them … I think a better word would be drowning.”

“Oh,” Seokmin mutters, looking down at that pot that’s now rich with soaked soil. “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know,” he apologizes, and you purse your lips together because he does sound sincere.

“It’s okay … sorry for being mean about it,” you add quietly, returning the pot to his hand. “I can send you a list later—of all the plants here and how much water they need.”

Seokmin’s ears perk up. “Really? Thank you, but you seriously don’t have to, you know.”

“I know, but I enjoy talking about plants and stuff. And I’d rather the ones in this room be taken care of nicely, so the least I can do is help you,” you offer before retreating to your desk. “I think I need your help by the way, so can you come with me?” you ask, pulling out a measuring tape from a drawer.

Seokmin nods, dropping the watering bucket by his own desk and following behind you as you leave the room. The journey from the Advisory Quart to your courtyard, which is located near Royal Residence Quart, is quite the walk, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit pleased that you had someone like Seokmin as company.

“How’s the project turning out?” he asks as you make your way down the long hallways. You catch a few other workers spare the two of you glances and you try to hold your head up and look forward when you respond.

“I’m a little behind,” you admit. “But the construction manager told me that they should be finished with the pathway today, and I asked them to start tilling some other parts of the field so I can get some flora in there soon.”

“Oh really That’s nice—I stopped by the place just the other day and the pathway was looking pretty cool—the color fit in really well.”

“Hm, that’s good … I was worried about that,” you murmur to yourself thoughtfully, pulling out your phone so you can glance at the list of things you need to get done before heading back to 77. Tucking the device back into a crevice of your robe, you smile as you near the East end courtyard entrance. “I gotta get a plaque up here or something,” you remind yourself, looking at the empty space above the entrance.

“You want me to get on that soon?” Seokmin offers and you shrug.

“I guess. I’ll still have to come up with a name for this place …” you say, walking into the courtyard.

“Wow,” Seokmin mutters as he follows behind you. “The pathway looks great!” He pats your back and you throw him a small smile when you look over the two twisting paths that connect the 4 ends of the courtyard. “What was it that you needed my help with again—Oh hey! Shua!”

Oh for fuck’s sake—

“Seokminnie!” that familiar, smooth voice appears from behind you as Seokmin turns on his heel and scurries toward his friend. Slowly and carefully, you tuck your hands behind your back and bow when you turn around and are met with the sight of Prince Joshua. “Sunshine,” he greets with a smile after exchanging his casual pleasantries with his friend.

“Good morning sir,” you murmur as Seokmin bounces up and down on feet from a newfound excitement. How does he have this much energy at nine in the morning?

“I thought I said don’t call me sir,” Prince Joshua tells you, scrunching his face up when you let the word slip from your mouth. “Feels weird.”

“I’m sorry but you’re kind of the prince. I don’t think there’s anything else for me to call you other than ‘sir,’” you huff lowly before slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re not scared of what Joshua might do, per se, but the thought of someone else overhearing your snarky remark has you reminding yourself to be more careful.

Joshua only chuckles. Is there anything that bothers him? “You’re funny,” he comments. “You can call me Joshua, like Minne over here,” he tells you, patting Seokmin’s shoulder affectionately.

Your face sours and you shake your head, “I’m sorry that doesn’t feel right.”

Joshua rolls his eyes playfully, choosing to ignore what you said and instead looks around the courtyard. “Nice pathway. It’s cool that it isn’t straight—is it supposed to be something?”

“Sort of,” you say, turning around to look at the stone on the ground. “It’s confusing.”

Joshua scoffs. “Try me.”

You furrow your eyebrows. Why Prince Joshua—or as he would like you to call him, just Joshua—is so curious about a random courtyard is beyond you. “They’re just lines that follow the movement of sunlight. I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

“That’s cool,” Seokmin chimes in when he sees you pulling out a roll of measuring tape. “Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t get to hear what you said you needed help with.”

“Oh yeah, I just want to measure a—”

“Sorry for interrupting,” Joshua says, and you frown when he pulls out a buzzing phone, holding it up to Seokmin’s face. “What did you do this time—why is Mr. Park calling me?”

Seokmin’s eyes widen in panic as you watch the scene unfold. “What?! I haven’t done anything wrong recently. Well I don’t think I did and I’m pretty sure—”

He’s cut off by Joshua pressing his finger over his lip, effectively shutting him up. You almost laugh at the way Seokmin complies so quickly, but hold it back as Joshua holds the phone up to his ear. The sounds that come from the call are muffled but you can vaguely make out the voice of your boss before Joshua sighs and ends the call.

“What are yarrows and what did you do to them?” he asks his friend, and this time you actually do stifle out a giggle. Joshua glances at you as you quickly press your lips back into a fine line, both of you turning your attention back to Seokmin whose ears are turning bright red, shoulders tensing up.

“Oh no—I really don’t want another scolding!” he whines.

“Well buckle up, because he’s asking for you back at 77 right now,” Joshua shrugs as Seokmin huffs, stomping off back into the corridor and presumably back toward the Advisory Quart. “Sorry,” he says, turning to you, “I keep sending your assistant away when you need him.”

“It’s fine,” you say gruffly. “I, uh, I can still do this all by my stuff so it’s not really a big deal.”

Joshua narrows his eyes. “Are you sure? I don’t have fencing for another …” He glances down at his star studded wrist watch for a second, “… thirty minutes so I can help out.”

To say you’re mortified by the offer is an understatement. A prince helping out you? He must be fucking with you because—

“Stop giving me weird looks. I know how to help out around here, you know?”

“Duly noted, but I’m not sure how it would look on my end if the prince was helping me out with—” you gesture to the field around you, “—yard work.”

Joshua laughs, and once again you’re left in perplexity. “Weren’t you the one who reminded me that this is the 21st century? I don’t just sit around and do nothing, you know that right?”

“But still,” you mumble.

“Okay fine. If you’re so obsessed with this royal hierarchy thing, then I, as Prince Joshua, am officially requesting you to let me help. Surely you won’t turn that down.”

This man is so weird.

“Fine,” you relent, holding up the measuring tape. “You see that little circle in the middle where the pathways sort of curve around? I need to measure the circumference of it.”

“That’s it?” Joshua asks casually, grabbing one end of the measuring tape as you make your way to the plot. “Oh, I mean I guess it’s kinda big,” he adds, glancing down at the measuring tape. This one only goes up to 15 feet.”

“You’re right,” you mutter to yourself. “Okay here, let’s just use this,” you say, pulling out a roll of thin string and handing one end to Joshua. “If you stand here I’ll just circle it around and measure the length of the string,” you explain, unraveling the roll and walking around the outer edge of the circle, trailing the string behind you.

Joshua just stands in the spot that you placed him, holding the string and frowning. “I feel like I’m not helping much.”

“Trust me,” you reply under your breath. “You’re helping me just enough.” You don’t mean it to come out bitter, but it does anyways.

“What happened to all the royal hierarchy stuff that you were on about?”

Your eyes harden on him as you’ve made it halfway around the length of the circle, pausing to make sure he notices your subtle glare. “If you didn’t know, this is kind of my job on the line, and while you’ve made it clear that what I say doesn’t affect you, I’m not sure the same could be said for what other people see. So I’m sorry if I don’t want people looking at us and getting the wrong idea.”

“What do you mean the wrong idea?”

Huh. And here you thought that with all those royal tutors, the prince would be smart. Too bad for Joshua, but right now, he’s coming off as just about the densest guy alive.

You’ve been working at the castle for five weeks now. Since your last meeting with Joshua (he insists you get rid of the ‘Prince’ and ‘sir’ so diligently now that even in your head, you’ve removed him of those honorifics), you’ve only seen him twice.

The first was three days after he helped you measure the length of your soon to be pond. You were on the phone with a construction contractor in 77 when Joshua popped in to say ‘hi’ to Seokmin (how and why the two are friends, you don’t know, and you don’t care enough to ask). Noticing you were here past the regular working hour of six, he waited for a few moments to let you finish up your call before walking up to your desk.

“You know you don’t get paid overtime, right Sunshine?” he asks, confused on why exactly you were still here.

“Well work needs to get done,” you sigh heavily, taking a few seconds to clean up your desk and throw away a few old designs you sketched earlier.

“Hey, those looked cool, why’d you trash them?”

“They didn’t work,” you tell him, rummaging through more papers to find the few that you actually wanted to keep.

“Told you,” Seokmin comes up from behind Joshua, patting his shoulder. “She’s a tough judge—even on herself.”

“I get what you mean now,” Joshua murmurs, nodding along with his friend.

Your eyes snap up. “Why are you talking about me as if I’m not here—wait, why do you guys talk about me when I’m not here anyways?”

“You’re like the only one that’s nice to me in 77! Well, sort of,” Seokmin reasons with you.

“I mean you do kind of suck as an intern—”

“Hey! I just happened to get distracted a lot. I’m an honest worker, trust!”

You huff, finally finding the paper that you were looking for. It’s a design for a couple plaques that you want posted above the entrances, and you tuck it into a folder.

“Is that in Latin?” Joshua piques when he catches a glimpse of the wording.

“Uh, yeah—you know Latin?”

“He’s a prince. Of course he does,” Seokmin tells you, turning around to nudge his friend on the side. “This spoiled brat has been learning Latin since he was six!”

Joshua scoffs. “Who’re you calling a spoiled brat? You were in those classes with me too!”

You consider wondering about who exactly Seokmin is and why he was in those classes with a prince, why he’s so close with Joshua, and a plethora of questions run through your mind, before you remind yourself that you really don’t care.

“Yeah but—” Seokmin tries to reason with his friend before you stand up and both of their attention are directed at you.

“You’re right Pri—Joshua. I don’t get paid overtime, so I’m gonna get going now.” You bow at him and then Seokmin, grabbing your folder and bag before pushing in your chair and heading to the exit. Awkwardly, the two boys say bye to you before glancing at each other.

“That was weird,” Seokmin says, and Joshua shrugs.

“I guess.”

“Did you actually understand what she wrote or were you just bluffing? I don’t remember shit from those Latin lessons.”

Joshua rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, but I only got the second word. Said ‘invictus,’ I think.”

“Huh, cool. Got no clue what that means.”

“It means undefeatable, dipshit,” Joshua groans. “Seriously, how’d you pass that class!”

“Hey, I was a great student—I just have, uh, bad memory,” Seokmin pouts.

“Yeah I can tell … seriously, how did you manage to fuck up the yarrows even after she,” Joshua gestures behind him as if to point at where you exited just a few moments earlier, “sent you all those instructions and all!”

“God, don’t remind me. I actually feel really bad, ‘cause Mr. Park yelled at her too for giving me ‘the wrong instructions,’ but I really just forgot what she told me.” Cringing at the mental image of both you and Seokmin being scolded by Mr. Park, Joshua shakes his head—that is not a pretty scene.

Joshua sighs, the two of them making their way out of the empty 77 and walking down the corridor towards the Royal Residence Quart. “Why’re you even interning for him? You don’t need a job, especially not as one being an assistant.”

“My dad’s pissed at me, remember?” Seokmin tells his friend gruffly, and Joshua purses his lips at the mention of the older man.

“Right.”

“Wanted to punish me for the summer or whatever, but I guess it’s not too bad. The staff are actually pretty funny, and your Sunshine girl is really bossy so she gives me a lot of work to do.”

“I can’t tell if you’re complaining or celebrating.”

“Both, I think,” Seokmin replies, the two of them laughing together. “Why do you talk to her so much? She’s even snappier to you than to me, and trust me, I can be pretty damn annoying.”

“Like I don’t know that,” Joshua mutters teasingly, earning him a punch on the arm. “But anyways, she seems interesting. Like cool, you know what I mean.”

“I guess,” Seokmin says absentmindedly. “Wonder what my dad would say about that.”

“Okay well your dad isn’t the King so I don’t really think it matters what your dad says about it.”

Seokmin raises a brow. “You sure? My dad almost had me transferred out of 77 because he heard I had to work with her.”

“Well that’s his own problem I guess. Just don’t let him bring it up with my dad because I’m not keen on having any more drama in this castle,” Joshua mumbles, stopping in front of the big door that leads to the residence.

Seokmin nods at one of the guards standing by the door, and she presses a code to a small box on the wall and the doors open. “You coming? Dinner’s about to be served,” he calls to Joshua when he walks forward but realizes his friend isn’t by his side.

Smiling, Joshua shakes his head and waves Seokmin off. “I’m gonna take a breather for a bit. Tell them to start dinner without me.”

Seokmin laughs. “You know they won’t do that.”

“I know, I know, but it’s the gesture that counts anyways. I’ll be back in twenty, trust.”

The second time you saw Joshua was yesterday evening just as you were just leaving 77 to head home, your arms full of papers to look through in the night. After getting the pathways cleaned up, you needed to work on adding more structures to the courtyard, but were at a loss of what to make and what to make it with.

With your stack of papers that were littered with different possible materials and architectural structures that you promised yourself to get through by the end of the night, even if it meant pulling a whole damn all nighter.

“Is Sunshine leaving at a normal time for once?” Joshua asks with a faux gasp as he comes across you in the hallway.

With the paper’s digging into your arms, you can only manage to grunt out a short, “Thankfully, I am,” before increasing your pace so you can get all this stuff to your car as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait!” Joshua calls out from behind you, and you almost whine because your arms are killing you and you aren’t sure how much more of this you can handle. “Do you need help? I can—”

He’s cut off by the sound of your phone slipping from your pocket and crashing to the ground. “Shit,” you whimper under your breath as you try to balance all the papers on one hand while crouching down to pick up your phone with the other. You’re wobbling under all the weight, and you have half a mind to give up right here and now but then a larger hand is pushing itself into your vision.

“Here,” he says, quickly turning over the device to check for any cracks on the scene. In that fraction of a moment, your phone turns on and flashes your very bright and very embarrassing lock screen. Your face burns as you snatch the phone from his hands and tuck it back into your pocket. “Is that Percy Jackson?”

Adjusting the papers in your hand, you shuffle your feet and start walking toward the exit. Joshua follows, as expected. “Uh, yeah—I know it’s embarrassing but—”

“Uh, you did not just say that,” Joshua scoffs, and when you catch the oddly offended look on his face, your annoyance dissipates for a moment. “Percy Jackson is not embarrassing. Those books were like the defining character of my pre-teens.”

You chew on your lip, wondering how you should respond to this. “That’s cool. I used to like the stories too …”

“Seems like you still do, considering it’s like, your lock screen and all.”

“Look, I just have it ‘cause it looks cool,” you tell him bashfully, speeding up the pace of your steps in hopes that it’ll bring this conversation to end faster.

“Uh yeah, sure. Totally believe you.”

“I’m serious,” you huff. “I liked the books ages ago, but now I’m only interested in Greek mythology. It just so happens that the best art of Greek gods comes from Percy Jackson fan artists.”

“Sure. sure,” Joshua says blankly with a smirk teasing at his lips. “Again, totally believe you.” You don’t know why his subtle teasing has you gripping onto your papers so tightly, why it has you gritting your teeth together. And then you remember who this is and it all makes sense.

Joshua is playful and lighthearted, but he is still the Prince, after all.

Your sixth week at the castle, and you’re nearing the halfway mark for your project’s timeline. You’ve spent the past week working on getting some stone benches built into the courtyard, and just this morning you sent in an order to get some plaques engraved.

Mr. Park stopped by when you were checking out your progress earlier, glancing at the pathways and the nearly completed seating. He didn’t say anything, simply nodding and walking along, and you figure that that’s the best you’ll get from him.

Your day goes by fine, for the most part after that. When you take your lunch break at the cafeteria, Seokmin tags along and you’re pleased that for once, you won’t have to eat alone. He has to leave soon after though—apparently Jihoon called for his help, and so you’re left to take care of this afternoon’s work by yourself.

Not that you mind—people let you be in the castle, and it’s actually quite nice for getting work done. When you return to 77, it’s only occupied by Mr. Park who, as always, pays no mind to you. Taking a look at your schedule, you aren’t sure if you feel like smiling or frowning when you see your next activity lined up.

Visiting the greenhouse.

There’s an odd feeling that blooms in your stomach as you walk there. You haven’t been to this side of this castle yet, partly because you don’t need to, but mostly because you don’t want to.

It’s when you leave the walls and take your way out to the Northeastern gardens of the palace that the pathways start ringing bells in your head. The familiar green bushes that you remember your mother tending to. The fields of daffodils, and the little built in canals that lead toward the row of greenhouses—it’s all flooding back to you, and you can’t figure out if you like it or not.

When you first came to the castle, you figured that you could avoid confronting the remnants of your past, but you should’ve known that everything eventually goes full circle.

Which is how you find yourself standing in front of the greenhouse where everything—your life, your mother’s life, all of it—ended on that day over ten long years ago.

Taking a deep breath, you go up to the door of the largest greenhouse ,tentatively tapping on the blurry glass before pushing it open. Peeking inside, you’re met with the familiar sight of flora arranged in neat lines of soil beds.

As you step in, the air is moist and stuffy—when you inhale, you’re reminded of those early Saturday mornings where you sat by your mother’s desk and watched her tend to the plants. The humidity was usually uncomfortable, but you learned to love it. Right now, you learn how much you missed it.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice interrupts your thoughts, and you whip your head around to find an elderly woman glaring up at you.

“Hi, I called earlier and you said I could take some of the hyacinths. I just wanted to ask which greenhouse they’d be in because—”

“31C,” she says bluntly, immediately turning back around to tend to whatever she was doing earlier.

You watch her for a few seconds blankly, before snapping out of your haze, “O-okay, thank you.” Pursing your lips, you let your head hang low as you start walking toward the door.

“That damned slut,” the woman mutters quietly. You don’t think you want to hear it, but you continue to listen anyway. “Thinks she can just send her daughter over and—”

“And?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more happy to hear Joshua’s voice.

Looking up, he’s just entered through the entrance you were about to exit through, and while you would usually mull over the possible reasons he would be here, you’re far more focused on watching the bewildered look on this woman’s face

“Nothing sir!” she replies quickly, back straightened as she presses her hands behind her back. 

“Good to hear,” he says simply. You watch from the side as Joshua gives her a look that you can’t really gauge before turning to you with a brighter look on his face. “Seokmin told me I would find you here?”

“I—yeah, he was right.”

“Well I can see that Sunshine,” Joshua chuckles and waves your hand in a gesture to follow him. You don’t have any other choice than to follow him out the greenhouse and into the much freer, lighter air. “What’re you doing here anyways?” he asks when you start finding your way to 31C.

“I need to look at some flowers.” Joshua asks you quite a bit about the courtyard, and although you don’t really get it, you’ve learned that it’s easier to just reply to his questions honestly than try to avoid them.

“For the courtyard?” he piques as you finally find the smaller greenhouse, opening the door to thankfully find it empty of anyone else.

Your gaze lands on a bed of hyacinths as you reply, “What else?”

“Okay, you need to stop answering all of my questions like I’m stupid.”

Huffing, you pull up a pot from under the bed and fill it up with soil before digging your hands into the dirt around one of the hyacinth plants. Your fingers search under the earth before feeling against the roots and carefully pulling out the plant.

“Maybe stop asking stupid questions then,” you suggest.

“Seeing as you think I’m dumb … do you want to tutor me?”

“What?” you deadpan, looking up at him with your hands still in the dirt. “Why?”

“I mean like, you’re smart and all, plus we get along—”

You click your tongue, finally pulling the plant out of the soil and pressing it into the pot. “Not so sure about that second part.”

“Okay well we have some shared interests and stuff—”

“Like?” you counter, walking over to a sink so you can wash the excess soil off.

“Percy Jackson. Greek mythology?”

Your ears perk up at that. “You like Greek mythology?”

“Yes! See! That’s like, already two common interests, Sunshine.”

“More like only two. And one of them is a book series I haven’t read in about nine years so I’m not even sure it counts,” you rebut.

“Oh no, it definitely counts,” Joshua counters, watching you pick up the flower pot and head towards the greenhouse exit. “Wait, we’re diverting from the point here.”

“What is the point again?”

“You need to tutor me!” he whines as he follows behind you, up the pathway back to the castle.

“I need to? Uh, sorry, but I don’t think tutoring the Prince is under my job description.”

“This is a different job though!”

You knit your eyebrows together. “Am I getting paid?”

“You might,” Joshua smirks. “I’ll pay you by the hour.”

Pondering, you chew on the inside of your cheek, before you finally respond, “How much are we talking?”

Joshua grins, shaking his head. “Should’ve known money was the way to your heart Sunshine.”

“Money is not the way to my heart. It’s just the way to get me to tutor you. Don’t mix those two up.”

“Don’t worry Sunshine, I wish you all the best in finding your sugar daddy husband eventually.”

Glaring, you chastise him. “Joshua!”

“Why did you ask me to do this again?” you ask, stepping into the room Joshua has just led you to. It’s near the Royal Residence Quart of the castle, and you’re a bit on edge. Joshua assured you earlier that no one would question why you of all people would be here with him, but you’ve also noticed that the boy can be a bit distant from reality.

“Because,” Joshua starts, watching you look around the room (it is a very nice room; bookshelves line the walls and there’s a grand desk in the middle, a rolling chalkboard on one end and a vintage map on another rolling board scattered off to another end). “I don’t like the royal tutor they have, and you’re smart,” he says casually.

“You can’t ask for another one?” you murmur, raising a brow as he moves to the desk and hands you a folder.

“I could, but my mother would get upset if I keep running through them. I’ve changed my tutors far too many times by now.”

“Ah,” you say dryly. “The extreme difficulties of the royalty. How unfortunate.”

“Sunshine,” Joshua grins, ignoring your snarky comment. “Can you at least pretend you want to be here?”

“Um, I’ll think about it,” you reply honestly, pursing your lips together as you glance at his chalkboard which has a list of things he needs to go over. “What is it that you need help on?”

“Well I’m good at math and stuff but Literature and Chemistry are quite literally killing me,” Joshua says with a sigh, sitting down at his desk.

“Literature?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “You’re the Prince—isn’t Literature supposed to be like, I don’t know, your forte?”

“Who told you that?” Joshua asks with a pout, pulling up a packet of papers and letting it down on his desk with a thud.

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed they’d be having you read Machiavelli or something like that from the age of two.”

Joshua scoffs, holding up the book so you can read out the title. Oh, it’s The Waste Land. “Okay I get that this is a kingdom and all but seriously, who even uses Machiavellianism anymore? That’s from like six hundred years ago.”

“Less than that,” you correct, but shrug anyways and sit down at the chair on the other side of his desk. “But whatever, you need help with The Waste Land?”

“I mean, yeah I’ve read it a bunch but I just never get it and my mom is obsessed with it for some reason and I really don’t want her to make me sit through another read of it so I really need to write up something good on it that will satisfy my Literature instructor and my mom so I can get it out of the way.”

“A paper?”

“Yeah, you know: analyzing themes and stuff.”

“Okay I know what a paper is,” you snap and Joshua rolls his eyes.

“Look now you’re just picking fights over everything I say. Just relax and—”

“I am relaxed,” you huff, but the tension in your shoulders says otherwise. To be honest, you’re still not sure why Joshua decided to choose you of all people, as if you haven’t made it clear multiple times that you weren’t his biggest fan.

You can respect the effort, you guess, but the way he seems so unbothered by your snarkiness is getting a little bit irritating.

“Whatever you say Sunshine,” Joshua says with a shrug, turning the packet and handing it to you. The poem is littered with annotations, underlines, and highlighter marks all over, and you squint for a moment trying to remind yourself of what you remember from the last time you looked at the work. “You read it before? The Waste Land?”

“Uh, yeah, ages ago though. Like back in high school,” murmur, flipping through the pages to jog your memory.

“Why were you reading The Waste Land in high school? Seems like too much, no?”

“Well not everyone was granted the freedom to do as they please with whoever they please,” you tell him, eyes flickering between Joshua’s curious face and the packet in front of you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Joshua asks, and his voice is slightly whiny.

“It means that people didn’t want to talk to me so I had to spend my time reading. Even if it was ‘too much,’ or whatever you said.”

“Oh,” Joshua’s voice is quiet. See, you remind yourself, clouded from reality is what Joshua is. “Well I—”

“Forget it. I think I’m going to have to go home and reread The Waste Land if you want me to be of any help. What else do you have to work on, or do you just want to do Chemistry?”

“Uh, sure we can move onto Chemistry,” Joshua replies hastily, tucking the paper back into his folder haphazardly before shoving it into a drawer and pulling out a much thicker notebook. “I kinda need help with a lot of it. Like—I’m sorry I just don’t get it—what the hell is an electrophile and a nucleophiles and why the hell I need to know them for alkanes and—”

“Slow down,” you say, sticking your hand out. You grab the notebook from his desk and skip over the contents before looking back up. “If you want me to do this for you, we’re going to have to start from the basics, okay?”

Joshua gives you a look which tells you he doesn’t think he needs to do that, but you open the notebook to a new page, pulling out a pen. Begrudgingly, he nods and leans his head in to see what you’re writing.

He’s oddly compliant when you ask him to be, despite his jumpy and bubbly personality, and for a fraction of a second, you wonder about his potential. Quickly, you push that thought out of your mind.

It’s late afternoon when you reach the courtyard, smiling at the progress. You told the workers to get started on digging up the pond this morning, and you’re pleased to see that there’s already a large dugout in the century.

“Good work!” you chirp to Jungho, the contractor you talked to over the phone. He seemed nice enough over the phone, but you soon realized within the first time that you two met in person that he was just as standoff-ish as the rest. “But we’re going to need to get the insides patted down and compressed so when we put the water in, the soil won’t just soak it up,” you try to tell him casually.

Jungho points his thumb behind him at some of his men. “Yeah we have a guy for that,” he says gruffly, not even meeting your gaze.

“Thanks … maybe have it finished within a week?”

“Okay. Anything else?” Jungho looks around awkwardly, before adding. “Want us to get the water in there too? Then we can get outta … outta your hair and stuff and don’t have to keep coming back.”

“Uh, no—there’s some lining I want to do with the pond, and I’ve got to do that before there’s water in it. But it’s something I want to do myself, so you can just take care of compressing the soil and I’ll take it from there.”

Jungho gives you a weird look but you brush it off. “Alright. We’ll have it finished by tomorrow,” he finalizes, and with that he turns on his heels and walks back to his workers who you can tell were watching him from the corner of their vision.

“Why are those guys looking at you like that?”

You whip your head around, seeing Joshua standing just a few meters away from you on the pathway coming in from the East entrance. He glances around and finds a marble bench that’s just been made, sitting on the edge casually.

“Joshua, you’ve seen people look at me like that before and I think you know exactly why,” you mutter, walking over to where he sits. Joshua doesn’t respond and instead averts his gaze to the ground.

There’s a stray kitten bouncing around at his feet, and he’s quick to drop to his knees on the pathway and engulf her in his large hands. It would be an endearing sight, you think. Sorta, you guess.

“Whatever. You’re still coming in on Sunday right? My instructor prepared this stupid Chemistry exam for me on Tuesdays and I know you can’t help out on Mondays so I kind of really need you to help me on Sunday so I can prep. So please, please, please—”

“You know I’m gonna come in, so you don’t have to pester me so much about it,” you say with a sigh, putting your folder down and crouching on the ground so you can pet the kitten. She’s cute, with wide slanted eyes and soft brown fur, the wet kitten licks feeling warm against your palm.

“But you put up with it, don’t you?” You roll your eyes but Joshua still grins when you don’t disagree.

“I don’t understand you,” you mutter, truthfully speaking your mind as the kitten rolls around in Joshua’s lap. You smile without thinking, and Joshua carefully watches your usually taut face unravel in front of him.

“Are you kidding me? I’m literally an open book. You know Sunshine, you can find my whole life on Wikipedia.”

You giggle. You fucking giggle at that, and it’s hard to tell who is more surprised between the two of you. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you murmur, struggling to hold back another laugh, the kitten jumping out of his lap to play around on the ground under the gentle hands of you and Joshua.

“Not that I would know. You think I’m stupid anyways.”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Oh my god, please don’t even try to counter that. When I told you I didn’t know why helium was named helium, you looked at me like I was the dumbest person to ever live.”

“Okay that’s only because you say you like Greek mythology! How could you not put that together—it’s so obvious! Helium and Helios sound totally alike, and everyone knows helium is like, one of the most abundant elements in the sun.”

“Maybe you know that. You’re also insanely smart,” Joshua counters.

“Whatever you say. But for the record, I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe a little dense, but that’s it.”

Joshua pouts. “Aren’t those basically the same thing?” You know he’s only being playful, but something about the way he says it makes you think twice. He’s being sweet. So sweet, it feels almost bitter.

“No. You have a smart head, Joshua. Honest. I think you just gotta learn how to use it,” you tell him, more softly this time.

“Thanks Sunshine,” he replies gruffly and you frown, realizing that your attempts to make him feel better haven’t quite worked.

“I’m serious. What? You don’t think I’m serious?” Joshua shakes his head, and you roll your eyes when you pick up the kitten yourself and pull her into your lap.

“You’re mean. So no, I don’t think you’re being serious.”

You gasp, using the hand that isn’t playing with the kitten to place it over your chest dramatically. “I am not mean. I’m just honest. I’m being honest right now.”

“Whatever,” Joshua quips, turning his nose and looking away pettily.

“Okay, are you actually upset?” you groan, cradling the kitten up to your chest. You aren’t sure if you’re more annoyed because you can’t tell if Joshua is upset, or because you might be the reason he’s upset.

“Who knows. Not that you would care.”

“I obviously care, because I’m asking,” you deadpan, letting the kitten roll around in your arms, letting out a squeak of surprise when one of its claws gets caught in the belt of your robe, making a tear in the silk.

Joshua gives you a funny look when he says, “You can be quite pestering when you want to.”

“Congratulations! You now know how I feel.”

“See what I mean! You’re mean. I want the kitten back.”

You clutch the little close to your chest and nuzzle your face into her neck. “No can do. I’m afraid she’s mine until you admit you know I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Oh my god, is this how it feels when I annoy you?” Joshua grumbles, throwing his head back. “Remind me to never pester you again. Ever.”

“Self awareness is great and all, but like I said, you’re not getting her until you admit it.”

“Fine. I don’t think you think I’m stupid. Happy?”

You hum and shake your head. “Mm, no. Gotta sound more convincing.”

Joshua knits his eyebrows together. “If you’re so insistent on this, then I guess it must be true. I don’t think you think I’m stupid,” he repeats, but his tone is gentler this time.

“Good work.”

Joshua stands tall on a hill. His broad shoulders are sharp with his straightened back and taught jaw. The sky is orange and you watch him from below, the clouds moving slowly above his head in the background.

He’s looking out at something, but you can’t quite tell what. It’s off in the distance, but his eyes are dilated and unwavering for a few long moments.

Wind whistles in your ear, and then the sky grows brighter and brighter until it’s no longer orange and suddenly turning yellow and then white. So white that it hinders your vision and you’re wincing through the light until you realize Joshua is not on the hill anymore.

You look around frantically to no avail—you can’t see anything but white with black spots in your vision and you feel like you’re going blind. And you want to scream but when you open your mouth no sound comes and the blowing of wind grows louder and louder until it sounds like you’re at the beach.

Looking around, you see your legs knee deep in ocean water and you’re no longer hearing the rampage of wind and instead the crashing of waves against rocks. There isn’t a hill anymore, there’s a cliff, but still no sight of Joshua.

It’s still so bright, so bright and you close your eyes tightly again until you feel a shade fall over your figure. A gasp escapes your lips when you see what’s above you.

Wide wings, ornate with white and golden feathers, perched over Joshua’s back as he hovers above you. He’s not looking anywhere else now, only you.

His face glows and then he smiles and you close your eyes one last time but when you open them again, all you see is darkness.

You’ve never been great at remembering dreams. More often than not, you wake up with no remnants of the life you lived in your head the night before, and on the rare occasions that you do happen to recall something, it’s only just random snippets that also hardly make sense.

Last night was no different, although you do wake up with an uneasy feeling, not because of what you dreamed about—you don’t remember that—but because you know you dreamed about Joshua. It’s just the wake up call you need to tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, you’re spending more time with him than you should.

It’s a Saturday morning as you trudge out of bed and to the kitchen, trying to settle the weird feelings that course through your veins when you see your mother brewing a pot of tea. “How’d you sleep?” she asks, not looking up from the boiling water.

Shrugging as you grab a home-grown orange, you respond, “Well enough.”

“Can’t believe they have you going to the palace on the weekends too … I never had to work on Saturdays or Sundays.”

You wonder how she brings up her time at the castle so casually—you don’t know if you’ll ever understand her. “I really don’t have to—I can work on my own schedule basically whenever, as long as I get the courtyard finished by the end of three months.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Behind schedule. Obviously. That’s why I’m heading in again.”

Your mother smiles and walks over, ruffling your hair. “I’m glad you’re working hard on this—I can tell you’re enjoying it, as much as you didn’t want to go there.”

“It’s nice, I guess. I get to be creative, and get paid. Really, getting the money is all I care about,” you tell her casually, taking the peel off the orange and popping a piece into your mouth.

“You don’t talk about it much, but I’m assuming people don’t give you that hard of a time? You always come home fine.”

They do, it just doesn’t happen to be anything you’re not used to. Your mind flashes to Joshua and Seokmin for a moment, and you’re once again reminded of the unnerving fact that you did dream about the former, and you can’t even remember what it was about. “Things are fine.”

You’re three tutoring sessions in with Joshua, and it’s finally the day that you pull out your own copy of The Waste Land. “Oh thank god,” he says with a breath of relief when he sees it. “This paper has been bugging me forever—if we didn’t get started on it soon I might’ve combust.”

“I appreciate the vivid imagery,” you say dryly, “but I really did not need to picture that in my head.”

“Sorry,” Joshua says with a shrug as you sit across from him. “So what’re we gonna do today, Sunshine?”

“Hmm, get through the first part hopefully. We can read it back and forth and talk about it together, so you can take notes. It might be easier that way, so you can get all your thoughts and ideas out, and then it’ll be easier for you to write that paper.”

“Sounds boring.”

“I guess I’ll just pack my stuff and—”

“Okay! Okay! I was just joking. Let’s start, please,” he complies easily, and you smirk as you sit back down.

“Good to hear. Read this part.”

You’re around an hour and a half into the lesson, still working through the first part as Joshua frowns when you finish another stanza.

“Do we have to keep going?” he whines.

“Yes we do. Let’s work with this part now. Read it out for me,” you instruct, pointing out a stanza on your own paper.

“Why—” You give him a look. “—okay fine.”

‘You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;‘They called me the hyacinth girl.’—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could notSpeak, and my eyes failed, I was neitherLiving nor dead, and I knew nothing,Looking into the heart of light, the silence.Oed’ und leer das Meer.

When he’s done, Joshua looks up at you blankly. “If I’m being honest, I have zero clue what this means.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’ve said that every time you read a new section, but I know that’s not true, because you literally always come up with something.”

Joshua scrunches up his face and slaps his hands to his cheeks in frustration. “But now I’m being serious! This is making no sense to me—I hate Literature, okay? My brain is dead right now and I don’t think I can do any more Sunshine.”

“We’ve been doing this for less than two hours,” you say bluntly. “Look—you said you like Greek mythology right? Try and draw some connections. Maybe that’ll make this more enjoyable.”

“I hardly think T.S. Elliot could produce anything I enjoy,” Joshua huffs as he tilts the page so he can read it better, “But fine. I still don’t get what about this has anything to do with mytho—oh!”

“Finally! You get it?”

“Hyacinthus!” You nod eagerly, gesturing your hands to tell him to go on. “Uh, it was that story with Apollo. Shit, what was the story again?” He looks up and taps at his chin, but when you open your mouth to help him out, Joshua sticks a hand in front of your face and shakes his head. “No wait, I remember. The one where they were in love but Apollo accidentally killed him when they were playing a game!”

“You’re right. The blood of Hyacinthus was eventually turned into flowers by Apollo to honor his death or something like that. In the context of this poem … the giver of the hyacinth flower is almost like a sign of—”

Joshua snaps his fingers in the air and grins. “Forgiveness!”

“Well, not exactly giving forgiveness, but asking for it.”

“Kind of like … saying you’re sorry?” Joshua smiles brighter when you nod. “Holy shit, maybe I do enjoy T.S. Elliot.”

You roll your eyes and point at his notebook and pen. “Good, now write that down. You are going to have to write about this, remember?”

Joshua pouts, but picks up the pen nevertheless. “Whatever you say Sunshine.”

“Joshua told me to tell you that he thinks T.S. Elliot sucks,” Seokmin says, coming up to you in the cafeteria as you polish off your own tray. It’s a large and grand area—an old ballroom that turned into a commonplace for the workers.

Large mirrors plate the walls, and across from you, you can watch Seokmin’s reflection as he sits down next to you. Rolling your eyes, you turn to look at him, “He’s only saying that because I told him to write the paper himself.”

Seokmin furrows his eyebrows as he places a white box, a little larger than the size of your hand, on the table. Glancing around, you catch people in the mirror watching you with wavering gazes before turning away when they find you looking at them.

Huff lightly, you turn your attention back to Seokmin. “What’s this?”

“Joshua told me to give it to you.”

That’s new. Tentatively, you lift the lid a little to peek inside, only finding a haphazard mess of stuffing paper with something purple concealed underneath. “Would it be a smart decision to open it right now?”

“Oh my gosh, it’s not an explosive or anything.”

“You don’t know that!”

Seokmin rolls his eyes himself this time. “Yes I do. I packed it.”

“Ugh, even worse. I’m not opening it if you’re around. That’s embarrassing.”

“Is not! I think that you should—” Seokmin is cut off by the sound of his own phone ringing, cursing under his breath when he sees the caller ID. For a moment, you consider peering over and taking a look, but Seokmin stands up too quickly. “I gotta go for a second. I’ll catch you before you leave!” he calls out when he’s already pushing his chair in and rushing off into the distance.

You laugh at his hurry, wondering what could possibly ensue such nervousness from the boy, but you quickly remind yourself that this is Seokmin and he gets the jitters when he even has to think about being around Mr. Park for more than twenty minutes.

Soon, you start to clean up your area yourself, putting your trays away and throwing away your trash in the weirdly fancy bins they have scattered around the hall. As your lunch break nears its end, you grab the oddly light box, your phone, and make your way back to 77.

The room is empty, safe for Jihoon who’s got his head buried in his laptop, and you think it’s a good time to check what’s inside. If it is an explosive, you’ll just have to apologize to Jihoon in the afterlife.

Opening the lid, those same, crumpled papers lay on top, but this time you notice a little white card in the middle. Pursing your lips, your eyes flicker to your side to see if Jihoon’s watching (he never is, but it doesn’t hurt to check), and when your privacy is confirmed, you flip the paper over.

There’s a message written in purple pen, adorning a handwriting that you can distinctly recognize as Joshua’s.

Thank you for all the help. I really owe you one.

You aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to ask him about it when you see him later. Right now, you rummage through the papers, hands feeling the space beneath them before they land on a smooth layer of fabric.

Confused, you pull it out, only to see it’s a ribbon, much like the one tied around your own waist. Same color, same material, same emblem, the only difference being …

You glance down at your own robes where the ribbon has a small tear at one end from where the kitten had pawed at you. You have to blink a few times to realize what Joshua’s intentions were, and when you do, you can’t help the warm smile that begrudgingly makes its way onto your face.

Quickly, you tug the ends of the ribbon around your waist and let it unravel, taking the new ribbon and tying it just as your mother taught you. It’s the same thing as the one before, yes, but this is different. This is a gift.

Donning Joshua’s (your?) ribbon, you start to clean up your desk space and tuck your old ribbon back into your bag. You forgot to tell Seokmin you’re tutoring Joshua this afternoon, so as you pack up you text him a sincere ‘thank you’ message, and let him know that you might not be able to see him before you go. You don’t get a response, which is slightly odd since Seokmin seems to always be on top of things, but you shrug it off and remind yourself that he’s busy.

Today, you make your way down the smaller halls with a little skip to your step. Joshua showed you this pathway earlier so it’d be easier to get to his study room without being seen; it’s a nice little series of corridors that are a little dimmer and narrower, but still hold the lavish feel you always get walking through the palace.

You can hear the voices of a few people, but it seems quiet, hushed, and somehow a little heated—in other words, caught up in their own world. Being in the castle for almost two months now, you’ve learned to realize what kind of situations need your caution and which ones don’t. This is the latter.

You smile to yourself, smoothing your palms over the new, not-torn silk ribbon around your waist, as you near the second entrance to his study, about to enter another hallway to the final stretch and—shit.

When you turn a corner, your heart stops.

You turn back and run down the corridor. You don’t know if Seokmin saw you, and quite frankly, you don’t care.

It didn’t take you more than a second to put two and two together and suddenly you’re pushed back into your nine year old body—you don’t really know what’s happening or why it’s happening, all you know is that it hurts.

You’re going to have to apologize to Joshua for flaking on him. Surely he’ll understand that you were just a little bit upset by the sight you had to see.

After all, you did just witness Seokmin, quite literally your only real friend in this damn castle, speaking to Advisor Lee, the man who tore your mother’s life down. And now is when everything starts to click, because you realize that Seokmin is Advisor Lee’s son.

Of course he was close with Joshua—he probably grew up on these very castle grounds. Of course they attended the same classes—his father was the King’s advisor and cousin.

It makes sense now, and in your bleary haze as you make your way back to 77, you’re not sure what to do. You rush past a few other staff members murmuring under their breath when they see you, and you usually wouldn’t be bothered by the sight but now you remember that this is the first time you’ve cried since you got here, and it’s all because of that man who started this all in the first place.

As you lock yourself in one of the staff bathrooms, you catch your disheveled appearance and furiously wipe at your cheeks. Fuck. You shouldn’t be crying. You can’t be crying over this, because god knows you did not spend years thickening your skin for it to be cut open like this.

You should’ve known. Should’ve fucking known.

You try to stop your tears, telling yourself that they’re all the same. That you shouldn’t have expected anything more from these people, that you should’ve picked up on how Seokmin was definitely someone important, that you should’ve never fallen for his and Joshua’s sweet games.

“Shit,” you gasp out as a sob rips from your throat, and you clutch the side of the sink as uneasiness bubbles up in your stomach and spreads through your limbs until you’re trembling.

Maybe you let him get so close because you thought he saw you for something else. Maybe you believed that he saw you as more than a pity project. More than someone who was defined by their past.

Joshua and Seokmin—they knew. They knew everything this whole damn time.

And now you’re angry—you’re so fucking angry. Tugging at your hair, ripping up your clothes, and thrashing your limbs around kind of angry. The kind of anger that poisons your bones and makes your body ache until you can’t take it anymore. The kind of anger that wraps its hand around your throat and squeezes the air out of you until you can do nothing but relent. The kind of anger that has you looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking, what the fuck.

The worst thing is you can’t even be mad at him. You want to be mad at him and you want to be mad at Joshua. You want to have the will to go up to them and slap the smiles off their faces because how dare Seokmin be the own flesh and blood of Advisor Lee, and how dare Joshua know and not have the guts to tell you.

Because after everything, Seokmin and Joshua were your friends and—fuck—they were some damn good friends. Your best friends, maybe, if you ever had the liberty to even know what that means.

And it wasn’t because they were overly nice, or excessively cheery, or because Seokim was always grinning and Joshua was always smirking, but because when they talked to you, they were talking to you, and not some shell of your past.

Finally, now, when you press your face into your hands as your last attempt to calm yourself down, you feel like you can breathe. You’re not sure where your head is at, and something tells you that it’s gonna take a damn long time to figure it out.

You’re a little lost.

You were just trying to get to the South end entrance of the courtyard but you must have taken a wrong turn or something because you’re walking down a corridor you’ve quite literally never seen before. It’s similar to the hallways of the rest of the palace, but it’s slightly taller and a bit more narrow, and the workers walking through wear faces that you aren’t familiar with. You’re a little nervous about where your feet are taking you, and you consider just turning around and retracing your steps when you hear a voice.

Seokmin’s voice is loud when he calls your name, and you press your lips together tightly when it rings in your ears. “What are you doing here? You usually don’t come down to the South e—” he starts to say when walks up to you from a corridor to your left.

“Nothing,” you reply briskly, turning on your heel so your back is pretty much facing him. “I was just leaving actually.”

“What—hey! Slow down! Where’re you going?”

“77,” you mutter under your breath as you speed up your pace.

“Slow down!”

You don’t relent. “Seokmin, don’t you have stuff to do right now instead of following me around?” You can’t see the look on his face, but you can only imagine it’s one of defeat.

“I—” his voice is quieter this time, “Okay.”

The footsteps that were one following you die out, and as you browse the corners of your vision, you conclude that he’s finally left you alone. You should feel relieved—happy that he’s not bothering you now—but sometimes uneasy churns inside of you, and you aren’t sure what it is.

The rest of your day goes as it usually does in a palace. You tend to your work and as it hits late afternoon, you start making your way to Joshua’s study. Once again, you’re not sure where your head is at.

“Is everything alright?” Joshua asks you the second you walk in. “Seokmin told me you looked upset and wouldn’t talk to him so I—”

You inhale deeply before, putting your hands up in a stopping motion. “I can’t tutor you anymore.”

Joshua looks at you weirdly. “What, why?”

“Or talk to you,” you add.

“What—”

“Just—just don’t talk to me. Or ask me to tutor you. Or ask for my help, or ask to help me—you know what just like—I dunno, stay away from me.”

“Sunshine, where is this coming from?” Joshua pinches the bridge of his nose, and you don’t think he’s understanding the weight of his words.

“Why do you even talk to me?” you snap. “Like seriously, if you can bother any worker in the castle, why does it have to be me?”

Hurt flashes in Joshua’s face for hardly a second before he frowns deeply. “I—what’s going on?”

“Do you and Seokmin think this is funny? Being nice to me like—” You throw your hands in the air. “—like I’m some kind of joke?”

“What? No, Sunshine, what are you even talking about?”

“I know who Seokmin’s dad is.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “So if Seokmin still wants to know why I don’t feel like talking to him, maybe consider telling him that I’m not interested in being around someone whose father is literally the reason me and my mom’s lives have been so fucked up.”

Joshua winces at the last statement. You’ve been irritated with him, annoyed with him, and all that petty stuff, sure, but this is different.

“Seokmin isn’t like that, okay? He isn’t—you know—like that.”

“And how would you know?” you snap. “Prince Joshua, what do you know about having people be, quote unquote, above you? You have everything in front of you, and when people look at you and Seokmin it’s not ‘cause of some fucked up scandal which pinned your mom as the kingdom’s slut of the century, it’s ‘cause they literally bow down to your presence and—”

Something tells you to stop yourself. Maybe it’s the fact that you know you’re not actually angry at them. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re so fucking tired of being angry all the time that you can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the fact that when you finally look him in the eye, Joshua looks sad.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says meekly. “Seokmin should—we should’ve let you know earlier. I promise we didn’t be your friend just ‘cause of that,” he rambles. “I mean obviously we knew about it but we didn’t wanna bring it up because everyone was bringing it up and—I’m sorry. You know Seokmin isn’t like that.”

“And you?” you quip, but you know your retorts hold no weight. “How do I know you aren’t like—like that.”

Joshua falters and you watch him gulp. He looks tired and his lips are red from how hard he’s been chewing on them as you speak. “Y-you know,” his voice is quiet, “You know I’m not.”

You have your answer before you even have to think about it, but you pause for a few moments, waiting to respond. All that comes out is a shallow breath as you look down and squeeze your eyes shut. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I just—” You sigh weakly. “I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” Joshua doesn’t respond—he knows you’re thinking.

You wonder what to do with yourself. You’re not angry. Not sad either. Uneasy? Maybe. It’s the uncertainty of it all. You don’t understand why you’re not mad, and you don’t understand why you want to forgive him so easily, but you’re starting to realize that you should stop trying to understand the things that might never make sense.

Finally, you nod. “It’s fine.”

“Sorry again. I guess we didn’t wanna make that whole thing all about you. Because like, you’re you, and whatever happened is separate.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thank you.”

“Was that sarcasm?”

You glare at him. “Dipshit, no it wasn’t!”

“I’m taking this as a sign that you’re feeling better. Am I correct?”

You bite back a smile and shrug. “I guess.”

“Cool, ‘cause I think you’d like to know that my mom stopped by the courtyard the other day.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say? This is all for her isn’t it—hopefully she liked it.”

“Yeah no, she said it was great. She thought the patterns of the pathway were cool and so she asked me if I could figure out why they were designed like that and I said no. By the way, why did you design them like that?”

“There’s this song I like. It’s called Isohel, and when I first heard it, I liked it a lot,” you explain. “Searched up what it means and stuff and then a few weeks later I was taking some filler class for the credits and my professor goes on some tangent about god-knows-what, and somehow he brings up pictures of an isohel map. An isohel—it’s basically a line which maps out the places that have the same duration of sunshine. Pretty cool, I think.”

“Is that what the pathways are? Are they—what is it—an isohel?”

“Mhm. On an isohel map, they’re not always just lines—they come around full circle sometimes so it looks like these funky, squiggly ovals sometimes,” you ramble. “So I took one of those circle-ish things and broke it up and pieced it together like a pathway.”

“That’s really smart.” Joshua pauses. “You’re really smart.”

It’s not the first time someone’s told you that. Fuck, it’s not even the first time Joshua’s told you that, but it feels different now. He means it, you know it in your bones.

“I-I dunno,” you stammer. “I guess. It just relates to the theme of the sun. My mom taught me about it when I was younger—I loved the sun.”

“So that’s what the theme of your courtyard is? Me and Seokmin have been betting on that for ages.”

You scoff, “You guys bet on that? Seriously, do you have nothing better to do with your time?”

“Clearly not!” he shoots back, causing you to laugh. “Are you really feeling better now?” Joshua asks sincerely, and when you smile and nod, he grins. “Hey, I just realized you talked to me about your feelings—”

“Don’t mention it,” you snap gruffly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joshua clicks his tongue and chuckles. “There’s the Sunshine I know.”

It’s the next day when you walk into 77. Jihoon’s desk is empty, Mr. Park is just about to leave as you enter and you bow to him quickly as you settle in your desk. Seokmin is in the corner watering the yarrows, seeming to not have noticed you yet.

You watch him closely, smiling softly when you notice he stops before he can overwater them. Quietly, you set your stuff down and Seokmin begins to talk. “Oh, Jihoon, Mr. Park was just looking for you—oh,” he cuts himself flat when he turns around and sees you.

You’re not sure what to do, because Joshua didn’t exactly tell you if he told Seokmin about your conversation and what not, but the look on Seokmin’s face is telling you that he’s just a little behind on the news.

“Hey,” you say casually, throwing a hand up to wave at him as you set your bag down on your desk. Seokmin opens his mouth and then closes it a few times, as if he’s searching for the right words but they don’t quite come out for a few moments.

“Joshua told me that, uh, you know that—” He pauses and glances at you, trying to watch for any hints of anger on your face, but none comes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say with a shrug, and Seokmin has to blink twice because he’s not sure he heard you correctly at all.

“W-what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “I said don’t worry about it,” you state again, and then add more softly, “You’re not your father. I get it.” You get it more than anyone. “Anyways, did you get the workers to start planting the hyacinths?”

Seokmin shakes his head once to snap himself back into reality and then shakes his head again a second time. “Wait no, I mean—wait, yes! I mean yes! I did do that—I should go remind them to get on that,” he rambles quickly, clearly a little flustered.

You chuckle. “It’s good to see you’ve been watering the yarrows properly now. Mr. Park finally beat it into you?”

“Y-yeah I guess. I’ve been getting better at remembering them all,” he tells you, starting to fall into a more casual tone. It’s normal, you think. Nice and normal. Nice and normal and just what you need.

“What are you doing here?”

When you turn around with your bag slung over your shoulder, you’re surprised to see Joshua. “Um, working?”

“It’s a Saturday night,” he states, lips pinched together in a funny expression, like he can’t figure you out.

“I think I know that,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know if I could come in on Monday—I need to stop by the university campus for something—so I just came in today to take care of some stuff.”

“You’re a dedicated worker huh … you should just work here forever—the pay is great.”

“Mm, I’m not sure about that,” you say honestly as you look him up and down. It strikes you now that Prince Joshua truly is a handsome man. Dark velvety robes that are even more grand than the ones you’re used to seeing on him, well fit dress pants against his legs and shiny leather shoes that seem to fit his image perfectly. “Anyways, I heard there’s a ball tonight? You’re not going?”

Joshua shrugs as he turns around and starts walking, waving you over to follow him. “C’mon follow me.” You contemplate your choices before telling yourself, what’s the worst that could happen, scurrying on after him. “I left—it got boring, so I got about twenty-five minutes before someone calls me and asks me to come back. My bets are on it being Seokmin ‘cause he’ll get bored.”

You snort at that as the familiarity of this route starts to sink in. “Hey are we going to my …”

“Yeah. Seokmin told me you finally got it named, and I want to check it out.”

“Uh, yeah,” you murmur bashfully—you hadn’t expected Joshua to be that interested in it. You walk through the empty corridors to the hallway that has the North entrance of the courtyard, and Joshua cranes his neck up to look at the golden plaque that rests above the entrance.

“Sol Invictus, huh.”

You nudge him on the side playfully. “You know what that means, Mr. Latin Genius?”

“Of course I do,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. “Sun god, or whatever,”

“God of sun, but you were close enough I guess,” you mutter as you walk through. The courtyard looks different in the night. It’s nearly done, and as the little warm lights you had placed in intervals along the path light up the scene, you can’t help but feel overwhelming pride with how well you’ve done.

“C’mon, let’s sit here,” he says, pointing down at the circular patch of grass that surrounds the pond in the middle. Joshua sits down first and you watch him carefully before quickly sitting next to him as well.

The grass is cool under your skin, but as a comfortable silence envelopes you and Joshua, you start to think you really don’t mind.

“I think lots of people think I’m stupid or something,” Joshua finally speaks up, and some uncomfortable feeling boils in your stomach at the words. “You know, the only thing people usually compliment me on is my fencing, really. And fencing is one of those things that, if you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you sort of gotta be good at it.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“I know. Thank you.” There’s a silence as he reaches over the stone lining of the hyacinth beds, plucking a few from the shrubs.

“Joshua!” you complain. “I had those planted just last week.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbles, handing the two he plucked to you. You don’t hesitate to keep your palms open for him, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms as he does so. You rub the smooth petals between your fingers and a thumb, bringing one close to your chest before taking the other and handing it back to Joshua.

He looks at you, eyes clearly confused, but holds it to his own chest anyways. With your hands behind you on the ground, you lean back and look up at the sky, letting your shoulders relax. The night air pinches at your skin, but the soft fabric of Joshua tuxedo is warm as it brushes next to you.

“Why’d you name this pond Eridenus?” Joshua asks, pointing at the plaque by the pebble lining which spells out the word in fancy lettering.

“You don’t know where it’s from?” you sigh, lifting your head so you can shoot him a stern look. Joshua rolls his eyes and nudges your cheek with his shoulder, motioning you to lean back down at him.

“You know I’m a rascal—I’m forgetful. Tell me what it means.”

“It’s confirmed: you’re a fake mythology fan. I’m suing the universe.” Joshua chuckles and pokes you, egging you to go on. “Do you remember the story of Phaethon?”

Joshua hums. “Uh, son of Helios. Didn’t believe that he was his son. Asked to ride his carriage but lost control and almost burned the Earth?”

You shrug. “Well that’s most of it I guess. He’s racing down to the earth and everything is chaos—rivers boiling, forests on fires, people turning to ash—and so Zeus throws his bolt at him and kills Phaethon right in the sky.”

“Kind of like the story of Icarus. But the opposite I guess. Instead of getting too close to the sun, he brings the sun too close to the earth.”

“You could put it like that. They have the same meaning, I think. But anyways, Phaethon falls out of the carriage and as he dies he falls into this river called Eridenus.”

“Oh.” Joshua’s voice is quiet as you both watch the gentle water lap back and forth in front of you. The small waves hitting the stone barriers of the pound is the only sound that permeates the night sky, besides your shared breaths and the occasional whistling of wind.

“It’s kind of like—” You.

“Don’t say it.” Joshua’s words are crisp and short, and he doesn’t look at you. You want to say the words—I’m sorry—but they get stuck in your throat and ripple through your limbs as you scoot closer to him.

“Anyways,” Joshua finally says, but the word is only followed with silence.

“I think you need to get back to the ball,” you tell him quietly, lifting your head from his shoulder. Your skin burns from where it was previously pressed against him and you silently chide yourself for letting yourself get so close.

Joshua finally turns to face you, and you’re surprised when he chuckles. “So eager to get rid of me, Sunshine?” You scoff, pushing him away gently.

“I-I just don’t want you to get in trouble!” you stutter as you push yourself off the ground, Joshua following suit.

“Aw, so you care about me?” His eyes crinkle up in that familiar way when he says it and you can’t help the childish grin that makes its way onto your face.

“More like I don’t want you to complain to me about how you got scolded!”

“Mm, sounds a lot like you care about me,” Joshua counters, returning your smile with one of his own. You roll your eyes and carefully skip in your dress toward the exit on the North end of the courtyard.

When you almost trip over your robes, Joshua catches you and his rough palm presses against the small of your back as you regain your balance, the two of you giggling together as he drops you off at 77 before heading to the ballroom.

It’s almost laughable how happy you are. Silly you for forgetting that fairytales don’t happen in real life.

The walls look brighter, the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling seem to glitter a bit more, the ground seems smoother; you enjoy walking through the castle in a way you never thought you could.

It’s a normal evening and you’re nearing the end of your time at the castle, but you choose to ignore the odd feeling you get when you think too long about leaving this place. There’s still more work to get done, and you don’t want to spend your time focusing on things that you know will only distract you.

You’re in the middle of Sol Invictus today, looking through a paper and phone as you go through some old plans and checklists, trying to figure out if there is anything you should do before you pack your bags and head towards Joshua’s study.

Just as you’re about to unclick your pen and tuck your things away and head back to 77, someone speaks to you from behind.

“A lovely courtyard we have here.” You know this voice. Everyone knows this voice.

Your blood runs cold as you turn around and face the King, neck craning down immediately as you bow down, stepping away while you hold your hands behind your back.

“G-good evening sir,” you stutter, almost tripping over the stone of your own pathways when you stand up and straighten your back. It’s your first time in years seeing him in person, and you tell yourself as your stomach churns that this was bound to happen at some point.

“Care to tell me about what you’ve got going on here?” he asks, walking around the little stone circle that surrounds Eridenus. “You’re the head of the project, is that right?”

“Yes sir,” you reply quickly, bowing again slightly when he finally goes full circle stopping next to you. His hands are behind his back as you watch him look over the almost complete fields of flowers. “I—uh—it’s called Sol Invictus,” you say. “The—”

“God of Sun.”

“Y-yes sir. Apollo and Helios,” you begin to explain. “Which is why I’ve used these flowers—they’re from one of Apollo’s love stories. They’re quite beautiful, if you ask me, and they fit the kingdom’s colors well.”

The King hums in response. “That’s interesting,” he finally tells you, looking down at Eridenus in front of you. You follow his gaze, staring down at the clear water as you feel your heart rise to your throat in anticipation. You don’t really know what you expect, but if you were preparing yourself for anything, it wasn’t the King saying, “It’s my understanding that you talk to Prince regularly, is that right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and lodges there along with your heart. “Well, I wouldn’t say—”

“I was speaking to Mr. Park just yesterday.” Oh. “You seem to be a very smart, professional young lady, and it shows in your work.” This can’t be good. “However, I am obligated to remind you: there are boundaries within these walls between the family and its staff.”

“Of course sir. I understand.”

The King watches you carefully, and just when you think he's done, he continues. “There are guards around the castle at all times. there isn't much they miss, I’m sure you know.” This isn't good. This really isn't good.

“It's quite impressive,” you agree, thumbs pressed against each other behind your back. You hear the king take a deep breath, and you wonder if he sucked the air out of you doing so.

"I've heard the pond here is named Eridenus.”

"Y-yes sir."

"Interesting," he murmurs. "Phaeton asked for a bit more than he could handle, didn’t he?" the King chuckles but you hardly hear it over the way your heart pounds. "Let mistakes be learned from, alright?"

You feel your knuckle might buckle. Is this how your mother felt? All those years ago?

The King’s words aren’t nearly as harsh as the advisor who berated your mother, but still, your body sways—you can’t tell if it’s all in your head with all the thoughts that race through, or if it’s the sheer weight of his words that has you almost stumbling.

“It was good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed what you’ve done with this space,” he comments finally, and you step away to face him 

“The pleasure was mine, sir,” you bid, bowing as he turns and walks back to his assistants who whisk him away. You watch the King fade into the distance and disappear to the North end.

He spoke to you for a reason, and the King was right. You are smart. You are smart and professional, and tonight, you know exactly what you must do.

“We need to talk,” you state firmly, closing the door behind you in Joshua’s study. You’re supposed to tutor him tonight, and he doesn’t look up at you as he writes away in his notebook, a smirk making its way onto his face as he starts to speak.

“That’s all I get, Sunshine? No ‘hi,’ ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’” he teases, but then he looks up at you and catches the grim look on your face and the sound of him dropping his pen echoes through the room. “What is it?”

He stands up so quickly that his chair falls down, but Joshua pays no mind to it, his hands gripping the end of his table as his eyes bore into yours. “What is it?” he asks again and this time he’s hissing it. You know he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but your heart sinks even further than you could imagine.

“Joshua,” and when you say it, your voice is meek. You shouldn’t cry over this—fuck, you hate crying, especially if it’s because of his people. You’ve done more than enough crying over them in your life—you can’t cry over any of this anymore.

“Sunshine, what’s going on? You’re scaring me,” Joshua eggs you on worriedly, moving away from his desk so he can walk over to you. One hand cups your cheek, and you’re struck by the realization that this is the most intimate he’s ever been with you.

What unfortunate circumstances, you think.

“Your father,” you say, having half a mind to push his hand away from your face, but you keep it there because you don’t think you’ll have the will to keep on talking if he’s not touching you.

“What about him?” Joshua asks hastily, grip on your jaw tightening.

“He knows, Joshua, he knows.”

“What are you talking about?” Joshua furrows his eyebrows and asks the question but there’s that voice in his head telling him that he already knows the answer.

“A guard saw us at the courtyard and—”

“We didn’t even do anything,” Joshua tries to protest and with just one look at his face, you can tell he’s trying to figure out ways to rebut whatever that stupid guard saw that night.

“Joshua, you know we can’t do anything about this,” you say exasperatedly, your voice a little louder now that you clutch the elbow of his arm that’s holding your face. “I overheard him talking to Mr. Park.”

Joshua’s eyes widen. “Mr. Park knows? What about your job? Are you going to get to finish the project? Are you—”

“Joshua,” you choke out, and for once you cannot stop your tears. “I don’t care about my goddamn project, I care about you.”

“You love that courtyard,” Joshua argues, and you wince at the way he’s still thinking about that damn courtyard. You brush his hand off of you and for a second it looks like his heart has just broken in two, but then you reach for his face and hold his cheeks with your own two hands.

His skin is smooth and supple with the light grain of stubble that itches against your palm near the underside of your jaw. “Joshua,” you whisper, and it’s now that you feel the warm drops of water hit your skin. Joshua is crying and you don’t think you’ve seen anything that saddens you more. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” you beg, fruitlessly wiping away his tears as he silently cries into your hands.

“Why’re you acting like this is the end?” he hiccups and he must hate the sound because he slaps a hand over his mouth and buries his face into it.

“Joshua, no,” you murmur and pull him into you so that his hands can fall and you can cradle his head into your neck, letting your own tears drip onto the silk of his shirt. “It’s not the end,” you try to reason, but he pulls his head away to look down at you with glassy eyes.

“You—you’re lying to me,” Joshua says harshly.

“What are you talking about, I don’t—”

“I know you. I-I—fuck—I fucking know you,” he spits out, causing you to falter backwards. “Why do you think we can’t work this out? I’m the prince, I can—I can change everything and we can be together—”

“Your father —”

“Who gives a fuck, I’ll be king soon anyways and—”

“What if he does something?! What if he revokes your title?”

You’re met with stillness and you think Joshua might just comply with your silent plan but suddenly he’s shaking his head vigorously.

“Okay, then let him. I don’t care about being prince, I—”

“You can’t throw your life away Joshua, not for me!” you protest, holding his face again so you can focus his gaze on yours.

“It’s my life—why, why not?”

“Because I love you. And you can’t sacrifice this—this amazing life—for me!”

“I-I can’t—I don’t,” he stumbles and searches for words as tears fall from his lashes and roll down your hands, your wrists, your arms, “—can’t do it, not without you.”

“You’ve been doing it for years, Joshua, you’ll learn,” you tell him, using one hand to grip his cheek, the other to wipe away at your own.

“You don’t love me,” he chokes out. “You—you wouldn’t do this to me if you loved me.”

“Don’t say that, please.” You press your forehead against his and close your eyes because you can’t bear to look at his tear-streaked cheeks any longer. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can’t help but think that this is the calm before the storm.

“We’ll work it out,” Joshua finally whispers, pulling his head back and cradling the back of your neck with his hands. You don’t say anything, and Joshua doesn’t give you the chance anyway. “Let me have you,” he begs. “We’ll work everything out and it’ll be okay,” he says over a strangled sob, “Just—just be with me tonight.”

And so when you nod, he wipes his tears and pokes his head out of the study to make sure the corridor is empty before tugging your wrist and pulling you to his room. It’s big and grand, just as you’d expect for the prince but Joshua doesn’t want you to look at the intricate walls or the tall ceilings or the golden furniture.

Joshua makes you focus on his burning touch and lets you explore his mouth, his body. And stripped, your bodies are so hot and with wet lips against sheen skin, you feel you might melt into each other’s bones.

Teeth against teeth, nails scraping against skin so hard it digs into the muscle, bruising holds, and sloppy kisses—the feeling is so intense and it crashes onto you and Joshua so hard that you have no other choice but to grip onto each other as you would a lifeline.

And your bodies move so languidly through the sheets, like waves against a shore, or like the wind whistling through the air, until you're trembling and drifting off in each others’ arms.

It would have been perfect. Perfect, if only Joshua had woken up and you were next to him.

Joshua is lost.

After a frantic hour of running around the palace, asking if anyone had seen you, looking for Seokmin to see if he had any answers, Joshua finds himself in the middle of Sol Invictus. And he racks his brain for answers, for a smidge of anything that gives him a reasonable explanation as to why you weren’t in his arms this morning.

Joshua is lost.

He’s staring at the ground now, and all Joshua can wonder is if it was all a dream. If that moment you both looked out his glass window at the stars before you kissed him on his bed was just a figment of his imagination.

He wonders if you actually did thread your soft fingers through his messy hair and hold him close as both hit your peaks together, and he wonders if your lips really did ghost over his skin as he drifted off into sleep.

Joshua almost doesn’t feel Advisor Lee’s hand on his shoulder. He only hears his voice, really, and when he does, the sound grates against his ears.

“She’s gone.” Advisor Lee’s voice has always been harsh, and Joshua wonders how the same man could’ve produced something—someone—as lovely as Seokmin.

“What are you talking about?” Joshua is good at feigning ignorance, but his voice still quivers.

“I know. Your father and mother know too.”

Joshua is lost.

Joshua’s eyes snap up and suddenly his hands are at Advisor Lee’s collar. When the older man doesn’t seem surprised, Joshua sags. “What the fuck do you know. What—” He inhales sharply as he lets go and steps back, inching closer to Eridenus. “—what did you do to her?”

“She left herself.”

“What are—” Joshua heaves. “What?”

He’s doing it before he even realizes it. Stumbling toward Eridenus with his lungs and heart mushed together so tight he’s got a hole in his chest, Joshua steps over the stone lining and crashes into the shallow water.

Seokmin’s face pales when he walks in on the scene. Coming into the courtyard from the South end, he sees Joshua’s figure before he even recognizes it’s him.

That’s not Joshua, he thinks as he watches his father stand in front of Eridenus where the prince sits. That’s not Joshua.

Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp and his eyes are bright. Joshua’s smile is full and his hands are always ready to love.

This isn’t Joshua, and Seokmin feels it in his gut when he approaches Eridenus.

Joshua sits in the middle of the pond. His knees are bent and the cold water stops at the middle of his chest, leaving the upper third of his body dry. His royal coat and velvet pants, his polished shoes and silk button up, are submerged and rub against the algae coated rocks on the bottom of Eridenus.

Advisor Lee doesn’t speak as Seokmin stands next to him, Eridenus in front of the two with the prince in the middle. Joshua doesn’t say a thing. In fact, it seems like he doesn’t even know Seokmin is here now. His neck is tilted down and he stares at his soaked slacks blankly.

Seokmin is stunned.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s shoulders are always sharp but now they are hunched over and hardly moving, even as he breathes short breaths through his pale lips.

This can’t be Joshua, because Joshua’s eyes are always bright but now they are dull and dead. Seokmin knows Joshua’s eyes are always bright, but he failed to realize what exactly it was that was lighting them up.

Seokmin thought it was the sun but he was wrong, because even now, as Joshua sits under broad daylight, he is still and his eyes are dull.

Two weeks since you’ve seen Joshua’s face and you miss his smile.

You miss his smile, the one that crinkles up all the way to his eyes when he laughs at one of your snarky comments. The one that shines his teeth and the one that seemed to never leave your sight when you were with him.

You miss his smile, but his laugh still rings in your ear, early in the mornings when you blink awake and late in the nights when you gasp in hearty breaths and try not to cry. When you take the walk through the city to your work at Mr. Min’s bookshop, the ringing of the street vendors’ bells are bright and cheery, and sometimes you can hear Joshua’s laugh in the mix.

One month since Joshua last looked you in the eye and he wishes he didn’t know why you left. He wishes he was oblivious, because then he could be angry at you—he could have a reason to forget, to move on, to stop loving you.

Joshua knows why you left and it hurts more than anything because this is nothing like a betrayal at all. You left because you love him, and Joshua cannot dispute that—not now, not ever.

Sometimes he walks through Sol Invictus and plucks a hyacinth, letting it blow off into the wind. He hopes you’ll find the lost petals one day.

Two months since you’ve been in the castle and your life is normal. Well, as normal as it can get for you.

Your first semester of the new year started a few days ago, and you’ve since moved into an apartment near your campus. Your mother thinks it’ll be good for you, and you understand her sentiment but you don’t think she understands.

Ironic, you think. You’ve gone full circle, really. Maybe it does run in your blood, like all the whispers said.

You realize you’re okay with that. Maybe you made a mistake with Joshua, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you almost royally fucked up your reputation more than it already was (thankfully, the Royal Counsel was better at keeping it under the wraps this time), maybe no one cares. Maybe your life is a little bit more messed up now, but again—you’re okay with that.

You miss Joshua. You don’t think you’ll ever stop missing him. You’re also okay with that. You’re starting to realize that you’re okay with pretty much anything when it comes to Joshua. And once again, you’re okay with that.

Six months since he’s seen you and Joshua’s chest aches. Partly because he was distracted during fencing and took a jab straight in the middle but mostly because he misses you.

He stands on the balcony of the royal dining hall, waiting for lunch to be served as he looks over the palace and the kingdom that spread beyond. Joshua sees the tall buildings, the rows of houses, and the infamous Hong University that lay in the middle of the commontown around the hill the castle sits on, and he wonders.

You told him you’d be taking an astronomy class this semester, which should have started a month ago. Joshua is old enough and smart enough to know that collegiate astronomy is more than just the moon and the sun and the pretty little dots that button the sky, but still, he wonders.

The sun and its sunlight, rotations and revolutions.

Will you think about him?

Joshua doesn’t need to wonder—he knows.

The sun is bright today and even though it’s winter, the clouds are nowhere to be seen. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence for the cold months, but Joshua doesn’t mind. When he looks at the blue sky and briefly glances at the sun, his shadow on the stone floor, the reflection of light against the railing, Joshua breathes in the chilly air, filling his lungs deeply.

He knows.

Eight months and you still hear Joshua’s laugh.

You hear it when wind whistles in your ear as you walk to a flower shop to buy a pot. You hear it when you look up at the sun and imagine you’re in the middle of Sol Invictus. You hear it when you crouch down on your balcony, placing the little hyacinth into the pot and packing soil around the base.

You miss Joshua, you miss his smile, and more than anything, you miss his laugh. Right now, as you bathe in the memories of a man so far yet so close, you realize that you can miss him all you want, but you won’t forget. You can’t ever forget.

Ten months later and Joshua’s chest still aches, but he’s okay with that.

He sucks in heavy breaths as his lungs search for air on the fencing match, his trainer leaving the room, leaving Joshua after his request to take a break. Through the rush of blood in his ears, Joshua hardly hears the door behind him open.

“Mingyu told me you’ve been struggling with fencing recently,” his mother says, approaching him. Joshua shuffles in his fencing gear, throwing his helmet to the side.

“I’ve just hit a stump.”

“Something tells me this is more than just a stump,” she inquires as Joshua kicks off his boots.

Joshua scoffs, “What makes you say that?”

“Joshua, what’s wrong?”

He pauses, about to pull off his gloves when he looks up at the Queen. “Everyone in the Royal Counsel knows. I’m sure you know too.”

His mother sighs heavily when he stands up, and she follows him out the training room and toward the Residency Quart. There’s a silence that gaps the mother and son—not that Joshua isn’t used to it. He still smiles and grins, he hugs and he bows, and oftentimes it is genuine, but there’s a silence that always follows. A silence that he never forgets.

A silence he holds when he watches the same kitten you held cross his path when he walks through Sol Invictus, slightly bigger but just as nimble and heart warming. A silence he holds when his eyes gloss over the set of Percy Jackson books in the shelves of his room. A silence he holds when he sinks into his covers and presses his nose to the sheets, wondering if he’ll ever be able to taste your skin on his tongue again.

“I won’t ever understand what went on between you two,” his mother finally says.

“There isn’t anything for you to understand,” Joshua tells her, heading towards his room, but his mother stops him and he narrows his eyes. “What? I felt bad for her, alright? When I saw her all those years ago when it all happened out in the gardens—”

“Joshua, what are you talking about?”

“That’s what you want to know, right? Why I talked to her? Why I—I love her?” His mother gives him a stern look, but Joshua doesn’t relent. He’s starting to realize he’s been too comfortable with this silence. “I never asked you to understand it, but I’ll tell you anyway. Maybe because I pitied her or felt sorry for her or all the same stuff, and maybe I didn’t think she deserved to be ostracized for something she never did but—whatever. I’m not asking you to understand, but I am asking you to leave it alone.”

“You’re my son, Joshua.”

The Queen is Joshua’s mother and she doesn’t understand. She may never understand, and Joshua is okay with that because if he’s being honest, he doesn't think anyone will ever understand. He’s okay with that too.

You will understand, and for him, that’s enough.

You get two letters from the Royal Counsel in your lifetime. You received the first over a year ago—the one you opened with Mr. Min standing across from you in his little bookstore under dingy lights and over the dusty counter. The one you crumpled up and tossed into the dustbin without as much as a second though. The one that led you down a long, winding path which brought you to Joshua.

You receive the second now, standing in your apartment as you look down, except this time you aren’t staring at a paper, you’re staring at the screen of your laptop. You giggle quietly to yourself; Joshua must have taken the Royal Counsel up on still sending letters.

You’ve only looked at the subject of the email so far. It’s got your name and the word “request” written in bold, and you wonder what they want.

Glossing over the text, a wave of nostalgia washes over you. “The Hong Royal Counsel wishes to find you well, as we present a request.” Same shit, huh? “You will have the opportunity to lead a project as you please and earn a notable compensation in payment for your efforts.” Yeah, pretty much.

It’s the same thing, you realize. They want you back—for what, you aren’t sure, but you have a feeling that it doesn’t really matter. Because signed, at the bottom of the email isn’t the usual, “Hong Royal Counsel,” but instead is, “Hong Royal Family.”

The little sun emblem sits below the signatures of the King and Queen, and you press your eyes shut and hold the screen close to your chest, silently praying under your breath that is not a dream.

You don’t know what happened, don’t know what Joshua told them, but to be frank, you don’t care. You’re smart enough to read between the lines.

I don’t understand, they're telling you, But that doesn’t mean I can’t try.

It’s your first day at the castle. Well, your second first day.

When you park your car at the base of the hill, you smile down at the silk over your waist. You abandoned the new ribbon sent to you by the Court, instead donning the one that came to you in a little white box ten months ago. Sometimes, when you hold it close enough, you still think you can smell Joshua’s skin.

You wonder how long you’ll have to wait for him, but as you look up at the sky, you have your answer.

Something speaks to you when you return to 77. Mr. Park is still gruff and cranky but you swear you see the peek-a-boo of a smile on his lips when you walk in. Jihoon’s there too, he greets you regularly.

And of course there’s Seokmin who is hugging you so tight, it reminds you that he is a full grown man and not a child trapped in a large body. You think he almost cries when he laughs with you about how he almost killed the yarrows again (but he brought them back to life! Trust!), and then he beams and tells you that you gotta check out Sol Invictus.

It’s beautiful.

Bright hyacinths that line from east to west and your heart is happy because Seokmin told you he’d get everyone to finish planting them and he did. The purple petals let wind whistle through its stems and leaves, the rustling echoing off the walls of the castle that surround Sol Invictus.

The water of Eridenus gleams under the sun, the stone of your pathways glows brightly, and as your eyes flicker around, you notice something new. In each corner field of Sol Invictus, sits a medium sized sculpture, each of a pegasus but all slightly different in pose and manner.

And then you see him, his back facing you, standing in front of one of the statues that sits in one of the fields on the west end.

Walk the line.

Tracing the pathways—your pathway—from East to West with your shoes clacking their short heels against the tiles—you know he can hear you, but still, he doesn’t move. His hands are neatly holding each other behind his back as his neck tilts slightly upward to stare up at the pegasus.

“Aethon, Aeos, Pyrois, and Phlegon,” Joshua says when you finally stop next to him, shoulders barely brushing against each other. “This one is Pyrois.”

“Helios’ pegasi,” you murmur, glossing over the fine details and intricacies of the statue.

“I thought you might like them.”

You don’t say anything for a moment and grin, watching his eyes light up from the corner of your vision. “I love them.”

“Thank god. You were taking so long to respond, I thought you were going to yell at me for fucking up Sol Invictus.”

You laugh and shake your head, both of you shuffling as you face each other.

“Hi,” you say so lightly it comes out as a breathy laugh when you both finally look each other in the eye.

“Sunshine.” Joshua smiles, holding out his hand. The light is warm when it hits your skin, and Joshua’s dark hair glints a light brown under the beams. You take his hand and run your fingers over the calluses of his palm; his skin is warm when his fingers grasp around yours and as you look at his eyes, you feel it in your bones.

This is Joshua, this is Joshua, and every path you follow will always lead you back to him.

a/n. aaah it's done! as per em's request, i will be posting a one-shot of these two and their lives in the future bc i feel like i robbed u guys of a possibly fluffier ending so keep an eye out for that ... anyways, i hope u enjoyed, comments / reblogs would mean the world to me and >_< thank u for reading!

EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.

A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying. 

Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes! 

But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.

What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?

Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity. 

What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else? 

Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course. 

“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair. 

You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.

“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving. 

“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving. 

You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.

He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”

You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”

His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you. 

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you. 

“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?” 

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”

You blinked. “What?”

Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.

Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.

Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.

“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”

You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”

“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses. 

Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”

You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”

“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”

“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.

“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”

“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”

“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.

 “Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.

Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.

Good, he called you when you were obedient.

Cute, he called you when you were crying.