#AND HOW FUCKING DARE THEY RECOMMEND IT TO ME
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oros-ash3s · 2 days ago
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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⋆ Febuwhump 2025 ⋆˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙**
Day 4 || “On The Run”
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TW: Suicide, self-deprecating thoughts 
Felix leaned against the cool tiles of the wall, his heart beating fast in his chest. The room was spinning, the small single-person bathroom more cramped and suffocating than ever, the walls threatening to close in on him, to smush his very being. Broken sobs escaped out of his chest, leaving him shuddering and shaking, his form curled up protectively as he wheezed and coughed for air. 
God, he was so pathetic. 
It really hit him, for the first time, how utterly useless he was. What this all meant. He had no family, no friends; people couldn’t even tolerate his fucking presence anymore. Reagan and Paisley were gone, pushed away by too many of his fuck-ups. They weren’t a family anymore. No, not after he’d broken them. All his friends were gone: dead or traitors, disillusioned by some evil, horrific dream that he’d never be able to follow. The only person that might agree to even sit beside him was Akali, and well…. 
Akali didn’t care. He was sure of it. Sure of all of it. Akali was growing sick of him too, he had to be. If Paisley couldn’t stand him, if even his own sister couldn’t stand him, then who was to say that Akali ever would? 
No, nobody wanted him. 
He had nobody left for him in this life. Nothing. He was doomed to spend the rest of his sad, pitiful life on the run, taking up refuge in a cabin hidden deep inside the woods, his only companions being the remnants of a club that never brought any good, and never would. People who hated him more than anything else in this world. 
There was no reason to live anymore. He shouldn’t even exist. 
Felix was trembling as he lifted his hands, staring down at them with a sense of understanding. He couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t run from place to place, never belonging, never home. He couldn’t keep losing the people he cared about the most, the world’s corruption slowly stealing all he held dear. He couldn’t keep failing, keep causing more strife and pain for all that dared get close to him. He’d lost so much, lost all he’d ever had. He couldn’t….
He couldn’t stand himself. 
It would be better this way. He’d be doing them a favour. It was what they all wanted. Without him, things would be better. Without him, they’d all be at peace. 
No one wanted him here. No one cared about him. He was nothing more than an inconvenience: an extra mouth to feed, an extra bed to need. Nothing more than a burden. 
He took a shaky breath, another sob choking out of him. It would be better this way. 
The knife was in his hand before he could think about what he was doing – think to stop himself. His mind was racing, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, slipping onto his shaking fingers. They were wrapped tight around the handle, holding the weapon so tight his knuckles had gone white.
He raised the blade up high. Everything seemed to be suspended in time, the quiet chatter from down the hall now replaced with silence. 
It would be better.
With one sharp arc, he brought it down against his wrist.
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masterlist || next
✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
I feel like today’s oneshot didn’t convey what I had envisioned for the actual prompt very well, but it kind of fits?? In the context of the story at least??? oh well
✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
This story can be found on my alt account @dioles-writes. If you’re interested about the context of this scene, I’d recommend checking out this fic ੈ✩‧₊˚
✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
taglist || @febuwhump @ohagiwrites @vesanal @aalinaaaaaa @fangedcinnamonroll @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @seastarblue @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @iamheretohurt @corinneglass @melodxi @thebookishkiwi @lancedoncrimsonwings @sugaredparchment @cepheusgalaxy @fizzydreamz @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @nosebleedgirlpunch @sunflowerrosy @charlachan
✩ Send me an ask or dm to be added or removed from the taglist ✩
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izzy-mc-fizzy · 2 years ago
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No fucking way did Twitter just recommend me a PRO ED TWEET WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK
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chimerahyperfix · 10 months ago
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You’re looking for something— no, someone, too, aren’t you?
(I can’t comprehend how you understand what’s going on, with your lifeless shell. Craft as you are.)
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#isat#in stars and time#live a live#isat loop#cube live a live#RAHHHHHH [COMBINES MY FIXATIONS]#behold my crack fic au. tiny robot in dormont#I’m cooking let me cook. cube has the little guy little dude vibes#and is also canonically like. a baby?#their chapter in the game happens the day they were finished#so. a baby.#cube is so <3. their chapter is a space horror#I would 100% recommend at least watching a video of it#IT GOES CRAZYYYYYY#pov flicking a card that says die child die at the floor. so#anyways. this au makes no sense to anyone but me#this is MY funny house and I’m going to play in it#worlds smartest baby [a robot] figures out timeloop shit before the party more at 2#if you ask I WILL ramble abt the concept of this au I will#<- trying desperately to get away from working on my other au post#[I need to draw smth for it and I’m struggling lollll]#sitting here like ughhh I don’t wanna draw this imageee [puts off entire au post]#ANYWAYSSSS#LOOP WOULD HATE THIS KID. the fuck is a robot.#the fuck is this damn thing and how has it read me literally immediately#how dare you be made of craft. be artificial. and be able to read my despair like a book#how dare you; a fake being made by someone else. be more human to me than the people that once were my party#how dare you want to help me when I dont know you because you didn’t EXIST in my loops#…but. uh. thanks for the coffee. even if I can’t drink it I recognize the sentiment. or whatever#falls to the floor dramatically. oughhhh loop and cube ougughhh
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ssruis · 8 months ago
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Hi hi i think youre completely right about characterization so I wanted to ask if you have any pjsk fic recs? Thank you :3
Oh god you know not what you have done
Primary ruikasa/emunene focus as is expected on ssruis dot tumblr dot com so keep that in mind but there’s a few gen fics on here.
The world offers itself - thrillingwhiteday (In progress) (ruikasa)
Super underrated… the characterization is so good… saki + rui interactions (I cheered). Lives in my head rent free.
You and a Skull’s Flower - Revelry_in_serenity (In progress) (no relationship focus but there are bg relationships)
Pandemonium gang experiences The Horrors. Recommend the author’s other works as well - Supporting Roles/Lasting Embraces/Overwritten are some other ones I really enjoyed - but I’m Very Intrigued by the plot in this one.
Warm - pyrotechpuffs (One shot) (ruikasa)
Also recommend the authors other works but this is a fave.
Soul to Wreck - sleepieash (In progress) (ruikasa)
Literally anything by helloitsaiza or calculatrice. The characterization/writing… chefs kiss… their brains are so massive. Best stuff in the tag. Rewired my brain. However this is a list of fic recs and not author recs so I’ll link some of my favorites:
Roles - helloitsaiza (one shot) (ruikasa)
Eternal sunshine - helloitsaiza (One shot) (emunene)
Special shout-out because Peak Emunene I’m actually obsessed with it.
Confess, Confess - helloitsaiza (In progress) (ruikasa)
Yours - helloitsaiza and calculatrice (one shot) (ruikasa)
Backstage after the curtain call - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)
To sear the sky - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)
A study in performance - calculatrice (One shot) (ruikasa)
Funhouse mirror - calculatrice (in progress) (no relationship focus, wxs & niigo)
Special shout-out because tsukasa + mafuyu body swap is such a galaxy brained idea
Rui’s doki-doki seishun school life - calculatrice (one shot) (ruikasa)
^ read all of these they go so hard 10/10
Because it’s you - sleepy_macchi (one shot) (ruikasa)
Act I of our story - Asteromeda (one shot) (ruikasa)
The show must go on - literallyjustsomeguy (in progress but it’s been like 2 years so it might be abandoned) (ruikasa)
I don’t like recommending stuff that may remain unfinished but I’ll make an exception for very funny tsukasa tenma stupidity moments
X marks the spot - seatrix (in progress) (ruikasa)
Underrated… love the characterization & plot.
Voted most likely to run away with you - eightyeightstars (one shot) (ruikasa)
Sharing is caring - underwaternature (one shot) (ruikasa)
Tête-à-tête - kuiperbelts (one shot) (ruikasa)
Also recommend the authors other works I just really like the tsukasa characterization in this one
All I want (is you) - sorasekai (one shot) (emunene)
Recommend their other works as well for good emunene
Ikanaide - gummysaur (finished) (tsukasa focus, gen wxs)
Also recommend their other works but (chefs kiss) tsukasa characterization
Closeness - lyriablackfrost (one shot) (ruikasa)
Find out who you are, and then do it on purpose - weepingstars (transfem rui focus, gen wxs)
And I will still live here - utayoru (one shot) (ruikasa)
Their other works are good as well but this is a fave for the early pjsk days rui characterization
With me all along - jeiseny (one shot) (saki focus, gen)
SAKI… (ugly crying) beautiful exploration of chronic illness. And it doesn’t focus on her fucking brother (staring with homicidal intent @ wider pjsk fanbase). Made me go ouuggh relatable several times.
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zaldrizescrowned · 6 months ago
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I hate how TG stans have interpreted Rhaenyra telling Alicent that she has to take Aegon's head as some sort of "gotcha" moment, using it as proof that Rhaenyra was always going to murder her siblings and was always a powerhungry bloodthirsty bitch.
Y'all do realise that if Rhaenyra had taken the throne peacefully, she would have had zero need to take Aegon and Aemond's lives? Yes, some nobles would've whispered and muttered that Aegon should be king, but if the family had stood strong and Aegon and Aemond would've actually supported Rhaenyra's claim, whatever rebellion there might've been brewing would've faded rapidly. For a rebellion, you need a figurehead and if there is no figurehead, there's nothing to fight for.
And yes, the smallfolk were mocking Rhaenyra when she'd just been named heir. Because that's what smallfolk do, they laugh at the nobles ruling them in good times. It's a tale old as time. But if there had been no civil war, only a peaceful transition and the traditional "bread and games" for the people during said transition, they wouldn't have given a flying fuck about who sits on the Iron Throne. As long as there is food on the table, a roof over their heads and some entertainment, smallfolk usually don't bother with highborn politics. It's only when those highborn politics fuck them over (like during a civil war or a famine or whatever) that the regular people start getting involved.
Ergo, the only reason there needs to be bloodshed and death is because the Greens created a situation in which everyone is pissed off and suffering, and the transition (or continuation) of power can only happen by the death of the opponent.
(Also, can we please also remember that Otto and the Green Council were planning to have Rhaenyra and her family murdered on Dragonstone asap after Aegon's coronation? Because they knew that what they were doing was wrong, and they knew that the transition of power they envisioned (from the 'rightful' heir to a usurper) could only happen with the death of their opponent. They are the ones who created this situation and they are very much projected their own grasping for power onto Rhaenyra.)
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cruelprincae · 1 year ago
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Five Nights at Freddy Photodump under the cut because I am a magpie and I like to take shiny things from everywhere I go
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haerni · 8 months ago
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+ yn killing jay just because he killed sunghoon??? THE SAME MAN WHO WROTE ABOUT HER DEATH SO MANY TIMES???? Insane twisted and just so SMART??!?? still holding the same affection for him even after all the things he revealed the twisted love she had for sunghoon onfgwhydg IM SCREAMING it felt like her emotions were my emotions it was so scarily good??!?!!
against the world
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PAIRING ▸ park sunghoon x fem!reader x sim jaeyun (ft. park jongseong)
GENRES ▸ fluff, angst, psychological, horror, thriller
WARNINGS ▸ profanity, murder, descriptions of gore, unrequited love, found family, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, mc is an unreliable narrator
SUMMARY ▸ if you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting park sunghoon.
WORD COUNT ▸ 14,064 words
PLAYLIST ▸ back to black by amy winehouse • the french library by franz gordon • perfectly splendid by the newton brothers
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! this fic is a rewrite of one of my first horror fics that i’ve written :') it badly needed reworking and i completely changed the ending. i hope you guys enjoy my spooky szn contribution ♡
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THE TRUTH WAS, YOUR LIFE BEGAN TO FALL APART EVEN BEFORE YOU MET SIM JAEYUN. 
You realized this as you woke up, face pressed against the ice-cold, concrete floor of a holding cell; when the guards dragged your uncooperative, limp body into an interrogation room; when you were face-to-face with Detective Lee Heeseung and handcuffed to a cold, metal table as he read your Miranda Rights. The handcuffs dug into the flesh of your wrists, but you only fought against them once and gave up as soon as you realized they wouldn’t give in. You just wanted to thumb away the crusted blood staining your hands and pick out the flakes under your nails.
The room was foreign to you. It was something you’d seen in movies and read in books, but you never fathomed the idea of being in an interrogation room yourself. There was a two-way glass that you aimlessly stared at, wondering who was listening in on the other end. 
You couldn’t figure out just how you ended up in this situation. Everything was smooth in your memory up until your supposed arrest—a tear in the fabric of your recollection. You hardly remembered what happened on the way to the police station or when you were getting booked in. You dug your palms into your temples and then pressed against the soft flesh under your eyes, frustrated by the stunted gears in your head. As much as you begged than to click and start spinning, they remained stuck and rusted in place. 
But you couldn’t ask the brooding man standing over you. You couldn’t look up into his cold, unforgiving eyes. After all, he knew you were a murderer. 
“There’s no use in lying to me, Y/N,” Detective Lee said gruffly with a gaze like steel, “the prints match.”
You drummed your fingers against the table—a habit that was rooted in your anxiety. Your fingers were stained and pruned like roses, and as hard as you tried to paint the table red, it only flaked off. You were sure your heartbeat was faster than the tapping of your fingers, your mind perhaps speeding off twice as fast.
Your stomach twisted. If Jaeyun was going to prison, too, then you could no longer protect him.
There was a limit to how much he could take; you knew that being thrown in the slammer would be intolerable for him. You knew you needed to get to him immediately because Jaeyun was the guy who felt too little and too much at the same time—the guy who looked for the part of him that ran away, who self-destructed when he felt the world closing in on him.
After all, Jaeyun was a stick of trinitrotoluene lit at both ends. 
You worked up the courage to look Detective Lee in the eye, which made him stiffen up, biceps flexing under his white button-up. 
“Where’s Jaeyun?” you asked. 
Detective Lee’s lips pressed into a thin, grim line. Cutting into his pale cheeks. You decided that couldn’t be a good reaction. 
You continued, “He didn’t do anything, I swear. He was just there. He didn’t do anything.”
“If you cooperate with us, then you can see Jaeyun again,” the detective answered in a clipped tone. “I can sit here all day and wait.”
Cooperate. You hated that word.
You knew Detective Lee was just trying to sugarcoat your betrayal. You knew he was looking down on you, ready to push you to your limit. 
But there was nothing you could do in this room. There was no way for you to escape or talk your way out of it to see Jaeyun. You knew quite well that staying silent would only prevent you from making sure your boyfriend was okay. 
You had no other choice but to work with Detective Lee. 
“Will you at least make sure he’s not hurt?” you inquired, to which Detective Lee agreed with a nod.
“I’ll ask again: Will you cooperate?”
You stayed silent. You despised your old habit of shutting down like this, but you couldn’t help it.
Detective Lee sighed and sat in the chair across from you so that you both were eye-level with each other. “Listen, Y/N, you’re young. This murder investigation—this is serious stuff, okay? We just need to know the full story before we jump to any conclusions and make a false arrest. Can we start from last night?”
Deep down, you understood. But it’s all too fresh—too soon. The grief had yet to settle. The recollections of blood and lifeless eyes poisoned your head; it was all you could see when you closed your eyes.
You sounded hollow when you said, “It didn’t… start from last night.”
Detective Lee acknowledged this and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Then let’s hear it from the beginning.”
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If you could change anything about your life, it would be meeting Park Sunghoon.
Your first meeting was at the age of fourteen. Moving schools was an unexpected shift in your life, and you didn't expect to find many friends at your new school. Starting new in the beginning of the year was one thing, but entering unknown territory with people already acclimated in their respective groups was another. 
People flocked to comfort, and you were sure that no one would want to step out of their comfort zone to bring a stranger into their friend group.
And then Sunghoon swooped in, like an angel sent from the heavens.
Initially, he was awkward. You were both fourteen-years-old and going through the initial stages of puberty—all voice cracks and awkward intervals of growth stunts. Sunghoon was soft-spoken and didn’t have many friends when he approached and befriended you. 
It started when you both found out you shared a love for novels. You spent hours talking about your favorite books, and Sunghoon shared his dream of wanting to craft the perfect story. Oftentimes, Sunghoon would share some of his writing with you, and then his eyes would sparkle upon hearing your feedback. 
You two were classmates, sitting right next to each other in the back of the classroom, conveniently right next to the door. You got to know Sunghoon slowly—the same gradual feeling of starting to care for someone. You knew his boundaries, though, because you were aware that you could never be the closest to Sunghoon. He and Park Jongseong were attached at the hip, and you couldn’t lie to yourself; you felt like a third wheel in the beginning.
But there was some comfort in the security of your friendship.
“It’s you and me,” Sunghoon would tell you, “the two of us against the world.”
You knew you should have been grateful to have made friends in the first place, but you didn’t exactly know if you belonged with them. As comfortable as you felt, there was always a whisper in the back of your head, telling you that you would never be their number one.
You would never be anyone’s number one.
“I don’t understand girls,” Jongseong said one day, hands tucked behind his head as the three of you were hanging out in Sunghoon’s room. You were flipping through some comic book that Sunghoon had laying around, and you shifted uncomfortably upon hearing the question. 
“You don’t have to.” Sunghoon’s eyes flitted from you, and then back to his phone. He swiped through some apps, but you could tell he wasn’t really paying attention judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes. “Girls make no sense at this age.”
Jongseong nudged you. “You have anything to say about that, Y/N?”
To be honest, you didn’t understand yourself much either. You were just starting to go through puberty, and it wasn’t ideal for a teenager as young as you to only have guy friends. You couldn’t relate to any of the girls your age, nor could you ask them if they were going through the same changes you were. 
You were acquainted with several girls, of course, but you never got close enough to ask what feelings and experiences they had. You wanted to know if they were becoming as conscious of themselves and others like you were, but you kept those questions bottled up since you only had Sunghoon and Jongseong.
“Nope,” you replied. “I couldn’t tell you.”
You supposed Jongseong was having girl problems again, and it all clicked because lately, he had been hanging around a pretty girl in their class. They were cute together and clearly into each other, but you could pick up on the issue: Jongseong was on the down-low about their relationship. More importantly, he had been on the down-low about it around Sunghoon, which had to have been breaking some sort of best friend code.
Jongseong asked, “You like anyone, Hoon?”
Hoon, your brain echoed, and you imagined yourself using the name as casually as Jongseong did. It sounded awkward coming from you, though. Friends gave each other nicknames, right? What if you gave Sunghoon a nickname? How would he react?
Sunghoon flushed behind his phone screen. You could tell he wanted it to go undetected, but you caught a glimpse of his flustered expression before he was able to compose himself.
“Oh, not really,” he replied with an air of indifference. “I dunno. I guess I haven’t really been looking.”
“How about you, Y/N?”
You faltered for a moment before you realized you had been addressed. It was a normal question; you should have expected it, but it hit you like a tornado and your mind was swirling. Dating had crossed your mind a few times, sure, you had never prepared an answer because you thought it was going to be straightforward—a simple “yeah, there’s a few cute guys in class.” But that wasn’t the case this time, and you were wondering why there wasn’t any clarity in your head.
Come on, Y/N, you urged yourself, as if you were complaining to multiple, uncooperating attendants working in your brain. Just say something—anything. 
Your mind was blanking, though, and you were scared. You couldn’t quite grasp why your stomach felt like a never-ending pit, but it only worsened when you couldn’t spit some guy’s name out. You wanted to open up your skull, thoroughly examine your head, poke at the areas refusing to work, and figure out who you couldn’t just list some attractive guy in class; on top of that, you wondered why you couldn’t just flat-out refuse the statement and claim that there was no one you were interested in.
You were struck with a painful realization that there was only one person you could think of.
Sunghoon.
No, no, no, your brain and your heart screamed at each other. Get ahold of yourself.
You quickly decided that it was just a passing feeling that you needed to suppress until it went away. It was just stupid teenage hormones and puberty making you feel this way and starving you of affection that you didn’t actually need in the first place. If you didn’t get a hold over yourself, you were going to crumble and ruin the good things you had going.
You internally convinced yourself that everything was fine. There were plenty of teenagers your age who had moments of weakness like this with their guy friends. You just needed to branch out more, that was all. 
Sheepishly, you replied before the boys could chew you out, “There’s no one I’m interested in right now.” 
You weren’t a very good liar, but as long as Sunghoon and Jongseong were sold, you were content with how things were. 
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Your group expanded when you turned fifteen, and you and Sunghoon grew closer—maybe even closer than Sunghoon and Jongseong were. 
You were laying down in your bed one night, breaking into sobs when you realized that you needed more than one hand to count the number of friends you had now. Your shell was broken and your world was bigger. You normally lived like your uphills were mountains and your downhills were cliffs, but, lately, the mountains were getting easier to climb and the downhills weren’t that big of a drop. You didn’t need to stop and catch your breath or worry about hurting yourself on the way down.
You never felt lonely anymore. If Sunghoon or Jongseong weren’t free, you would call Nishimura Riki to catch grasshoppers in the creek with you, or you’d go play video games with Yang Jungwon. Kim Sunoo called you nearly every night to bother you, but you didn’t mind. You liked them; they made you feel important, like you were wanted.
“Come on,” Sunghoon teased Jungwon one day as he was blushing over some girl. “What are you being so shy about?”
“It’s embarrassing!” Jungwon complained, and you giggled over how a flush of red started creeping from his ears to his cheeks. “I’m not a smooth-talker like you are, Hoon.” 
Sunghoon snorted. “I’m not a smooth-talker.”
“He’s practically, like, bulletproof,” Jongseong chimed in. “We can’t tease him about anyone. He just brushes it off.”
“I’m not bulletproof,” Sunghoon argued, but anyone could see the pride behind his expression. “I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”
You thought you had finally squashed the weird, gooey feeling that arose in your chest every now and then whenever Sunghoon came close. It was primarily due to the fact that Sunghoon was a respectful individual who didn’t try to weasel his way into your personal bubble as he pleased. That was probably for the best because you were sure your brain would go haywire if Sunghoon was too close for comfort.
And then there was Sim Jaeyun. 
Jaeyun entered your circle pretty easily. With his radiant personality and warm presence, it was no shocker that he was accepted by the group instantly. He possessed some odd charm that drew people to him, and you couldn’t seem to figure just how that worked. You were almost jealous of him, honestly, with how much of a social butterfly he was.
Out of all of them, Jaeyun seemed to take a particular interest in you. It drove you crazy, though, and you couldn’t figure out how to get the guy to stop teasing and messing around with you. The others couldn’t figure it out either; you just weren’t as bright and bubbly as Jaeyun was, so it was odd that he kept nagging the one person whose wavelength wasn’t on par with his. 
Sometimes it was cute—endearing even—but sometimes it was just flat-out irritating.
“Hey, Y/N.” Jake grinned, and his voice was all light and airy as he approached you. “What’re you doing for the summer break?”
“Probably sleeping in, hanging out with the others, and some more sleeping,” you replied, hardly sparing him a single glance. 
You were too focused on clearing out your locker of all the books and papers you had tossed in during the year. Gotta keep this, gotta throw this away, gotta return this one, you rattled off in your head, mentally preserving a reminder of your various items. But Jaeyun knew how to push your buttons and grab your attention. He never took your deflection without retaliating back. That was one of the many reasons why you found it so difficult to be around him.
“And hanging out with Sunghoon, huh? Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it’s not there?”
You closed your locker with a swift swipe of your hand, revealing Jaeyun’s smug expression. Your eyes were practically bugging out of your sockets as you stared him down. Somehow, you knew exactly what he was hinting at, but you refused to spell it out for him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, but Jaeyun was already walking away from you. He was turned away, but you could visualize that stupid smirk of his like it was carved into your memory.
Jaeyun was smart. Too smart.
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Your summer was filled with laughter, beach trips, and shy glances at Sunghoon. He drove you around places and you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, toes curled in your shoes because you were so overjoyed. The car was always loud with music and laughter, and whenever it was silent, it was because everyone else was sleeping on each other after a long day of being outside.
You still masqueraded around, playing the role of Sunghoon’s best friend who definitely had zero romantic feelings toward him. It was quite hard when you had to pretend like your heart didn’t flutter whenever Sunghoon’s fingers brushed against yours.
“Sunghoon,” Jaeyun would complain, rousing laughter from everyone at how impatient he was, “are we there yet?”
“You’re so annoying,” Sunghoon retorted, clearly as a joke. You couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, but it quickly died on your lips once you caught a glimpse of Jaeyun winking at you in the side mirror.
Jaeyun had a mischievous glint in his eyes when he said, “But you still love me, Hoon.”
Oh. 
He was trying to make you jealous. 
You fought down the urge to laugh at him. You might have been harboring a small crush, but you were never the jealous type, especially not over petty things like this. There was one little thing, however, that you couldn’t seem to shake.
For some reason, the anticipation to call Sunghoon by a nickname made you anxious. You never tested it on your tongue; it just floated around in your head. However, when you addressed him as Hoon one day, your heart skipped a beat when Sunghoon responded with a smile that rivaled the brightness of the sun.
You grew closer to Jongseong, too. You didn’t feel like the third wheel with him and Sunghoon anymore; you felt like you were all at the same level of closeness. You and Jongseong hung out sometimes without Sunghoon, and despite a few awkward pauses in your interactions, you two warmed up quickly and you learned how to joke around with him easily. 
Jongseong wasn’t all stiff and dry like you were initially afraid of; rather, he was surprisingly fun, and every time you learned something new about him, like how he adored cats but was allergic to them, you were even more amazed. 
It wasn’t just Jongseong, though. You and Sunghoon grew far closer than ever before, whether that was for the better or worse. 
Sunghoon only lived a street away, so it was convenient to hang out, and when you didn’t hang out with him, you two called each other. You could see him unravel in front of your eyes; he became visibly more comfortable when it was just the two of you—smiling, laughing, and bursting into laughter with tears of unrestrained happiness. 
It wasn’t just the jubilant memories that tugged you two closer, though. It was also the despair.
In the first place, it was an accident that you even happened to break down in front of Sunghoon.
You two were in his room when it happened, and things were as they always had been before you sensed the calm before the storm. You joked around as usual and passed the time by playing video games. Sunghoon was perched on his usual spot in the corner of the bed. You looked over at him and realized how close you two had become as friends.
Friends. Just friends.
It was right at that moment when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to just be Sunghoon’s best friend. You wanted to be the reason why he smiled, the one to make him blush, and the one he could share his pain and happiness with. 
But your feelings were the scariest thing you’ve ever had to face, and you felt ashamed for even wanting to cross the line drawn between you and Sunghoon.
You couldn’t dare bring yourself to confess. You were almost positive that Sunghoon didn’t feel the same way, and you would be risking a fall-out in your current relationship if you admitted anything. What if Sunghoon ended up hating you? What if you lost him and all of your other friends? What if you weren’t the closest person to him anymore?
That was why you felt like Sunghoon was in another dimension, always a layer away. Always.
This was your own fault. You were the one who fell for your best friend. You were the one who did this to yourself. You broke your own heart.
You couldn’t help it when you started falling apart in front of him. It started with a broken cough that was supposed to cover up a sniffle. You were thankful for the loud battle sounds in the game that drowned out your quiet sobbing. But the video game didn’t stop Sunghoon from noticing your shaking hands gripping the controller.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.”
Your voice is so shaky, so broken. Sunghoon knew you were crying before he could see or hear it.
He paused the game and put the controller down, but your eyes were still trained on the screen, hands shaking as you clutched the controller until you were white-knuckled. Sunghoon was on edge—panicked. Although, it was a different kind of panic from all the times you would be stressing over an assignment and Sunghoon would offer some lame piece of advice in return.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” His tone was frantic now as he searched your face for an answer.
You smiled, although faint melancholy was tucked away in the curl of your lip. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Now, I know that’s not true.”
Your smile broke. It was so unfortunate that Park Sunghoon had to have a heart so big.
You could almost hear Jaeyun in the back of your head: Have you realized it yet, or are you still pretending it isn’t there? 
You started crying, and it wasn’t something soft with a gradual crescendo. It was loud and all at once, like a wounded animal. Your hands shook more, and you finally dropped your controller, burying your fingers into your roots, as if tugging your hair hard enough would make it all stop, as if it would hurt more than the ache in your chest.
Sunghoon was quick to get off his bed and slide to the ground, right next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and it only made you feel ashamed. You stiffened up and shrunk back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how you tensed up at his touch. You could hear your own heartbeat, but you were pretty sure you were hyperventilating at a faster pace than the pounding in your chest. The world under you moved, bounced, so you decided to lean into Sunghoon.
The logical half of your brain informed you in a calm, clipped manner that you were having a panic attack. The other half meanwhile was screaming and shutting itself down. 
Five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste, you tried telling yourself, but your senses overwhelmed you completely. Your tears were blurring your vision, you couldn’t hear anything but your sobs, and your lungs felt as if they were on fire. 
“Y/N, talk to me,” came the softest voice that eased the painful ringing in your ears. 
“I can’t,” you stuttered out. “Not right now.”
You wish you hadn’t let it get to this point. You were completely humiliating yourself in front of Sunghoon right now. This was the one thing you couldn’t let him find out about. 
Your heavy gasps grew more labored. You then curled into yourself, sweaty hands tugging and knotting at your hair. And, shit, you couldn’t breathe. 
“I can’t, I can’t,” you repeated again and again, like a broken record. The desperation in your voice was so ugly.
There was something fierce in Sunghoon’s eyes, like he was ready to protect you from anything or anyone that tried to hurt you, but there was also softness in his voice. “You know, you can tell me anything. Whatever it is, I’ll hear you out. I don’t want you to suffer alone, Y/N.”
With a small smile, he added, “It’s just you and me, right? The two of us against the world.”
That only made you cry even more. You just replayed Sunghoon’s words in your head, like it was your favorite song.
“Alright.” You breathed in real deep, through the aching chest and everything. “It’s really stupid.”
“If it makes you cry this hard, it can’t be stupid.”
You bit your lip, embarrassed. “I think I like someone—someone I can’t have.”
Sunghoon didn’t respond for a moment, and it rattled your brain. He probably was wondering this underwhelming confession warranted a breakdown from you, and you couldn’t blame him. However, it was the only way you could avoid lying to your best friend without giving him the whole truth. 
For a split second, you wondered if Sunghoon simply just didn’t hear you. But you didn’t want to repeat yourself; you didn’t like repeating yourself. 
To your surprise, Sunghoon just smiled. “Do I know them?”
You opened your mouth to speak, but no words were stringing together in your head to form a coherent sentence.
“Uh, well, you don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” Sunghoon continued. He flushed and flicked his thumb under his nose—an awkward mannerism of his that you grew to love over the years. “Actually, I think we’re in the same boat. There’s someone I like, too. Someone I can’t have.” 
His words bounced in your skull. Settled. Bounced again.
“Really?” you spluttered out, and it took you a moment to recuperate from the heavy sadness that was filling your chest. You brought yourself to ask, “I mean, you’re so popular, so why don’t you just ask them out?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Are they dating someone else?”
There was a sad smile on Sunghoon’s lips when he answered, “No, Jongseong likes her, too.”
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At the age of sixteen, you realized that you couldn’t get over Sunghoon, but you could suppress your heartbreak and lingering feelings. 
It physically hurt to think about how deeply ingrained your concept of friendship was with him, and the possibility that Park Sunghoon would never think of you as more than a friend. You two had shared too many experiences—worn each other’s shoes and walked miles—to ever become more than what you were.
Nothing would ever change.
You were hanging out by a creek near Jongseong’s house. It was just the two of you—no Jaeyun to poke fun at you, and no Sunghoon to distract you. It was just the two of you, and it was somehow so easy to be with Jongseong like this. You could laugh with your stomach and smile with your eyes without feeling the need to close up or shut down. 
“It’s getting annoying, isn’t it?” Jongseong asked under his breath at one point. When you shot him a puzzled look, he clarified, “Sunghoon.”
You picked up on Jongseong’s annoyance toward Sunghoon over the past few weeks, but his words confirmed your suspicions now. You wondered if it was geared toward the girl they both liked—whoever she was. 
You never thought to ask, mainly because you didn’t want to know. Either way, if Sunghoon wanted to share, he would’ve done so already. 
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, trying to grab at words and shove them together, but you genuinely didn’t know what to say. 
It had always been you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. You never thought about them turning on each other. The very idea made you feel sick to your stomach. 
Over the past week, you had seen Sunghoon’s indifference toward Jongseong, but you were too afraid to ask about it. Your friend group was slow to pick up on it, but you noticed the way Sunghoon would purposely avoid conversing with Jongseong, or the way Jongseong would walk quickly past him if they crossed paths. It was odd, though, because everyone knew that Sunghoon and Jongseong were the best of friends—inseparable. How could you hold onto someone for so long and just let go of them like that?
You recalled that Jongseong and Jungwon went over to talk to Sunghoon about his moody behavior, but Jongseong never told you whether the talk went well or not. You figured it just never happened because Jungwon called in sick the very next day. 
You prayed that he would hurry up and get over his cold. He had been out sick all week, which checked out since everyone was getting sick around this time of the year. Jungwon would know how to get Sunghoon and Jongseong to reconcile. He was always the friend that helped everyone patch things up. 
“You guys are best friends,” was all you could say. “You’ll make up in a few days, right?”
Jongseong clicked his tongue loud enough to make your skin crawl. 
But you didn’t want to drop it this time, you asked, “Seriously, what happened between you guys?” 
For a moment, you wondered if you should’ve brought up what Sunghoon confessed to you—about him and Jongseong liking the same girl. But this couldn’t have been about that; Sunghoon would never let a girl get between his friendships. 
“Sunghoon’s hiding something dark,” Jongseong blurted out. “I don’t think I can get him out of this one.”
“Something dark? What is it?”
“I don’t really know—”
“Jongseong,” you cut in. “If you know something, then just say it. He’s my best friend, too.”
Jongseong shifted uncomfortably, restless. He was silent for a long period of time, so you just waited for him to collect his thoughts. Uneasiness bursted from the tips of your fingers and crawled under your skin. You felt the heat of the sun against your face, so you looked up and covered your eyes with a hand, blinking back red. 
“If Sunghoon did something unforgivable,” he started in a murmur, “would you forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” was all you could say.
“Yeah,” Jongseong replied, his terse words nearly making you flinch. “I don’t know, either.”
The sun grew hotter against your face, and all you could see was blood red behind your eyes. 
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You didn’t know how exactly it started, but you slowly started to find solace in Jaeyun.
You didn’t want to admit it, but you were starting to care for him a little more than the people around you. You were starting to get swayed by him—the things he said, the way he looked at you—and it scared you a little.
But Jaeyun felt safe. He felt like home.
You two called at night, sometimes. You weren’t normally one to be vulnerable in front of others, but you shed some tears in front of Jaeyun a couple of times.
The only other person you had cried in front of was Sunghoon.
“It’s kinda sad,” Jaeyun told you one day. You two were spending the afternoon studying together at his place, and you were feeling self-conscious because you were starting to regret not dressing a little cuter. “I’ve known you for a year, but we’ve only gotten close now.”
“I don’t think either of us cared about deepening our friendship back then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You think I didn’t want to be closer? How do you think I picked up on you liking Sunghoon?”
“Because I was obvious about it?”
“No, idiot, because I like you.”
You blinked a few times until you fully processed his words. I like you, your brain repeated, and then you reprocessed the information. 
No, there was an ‘idiot’ before that. Not only were you liked, but he thought you were stupid, as well. 
You became painfully aware of your knees touching Jaeyun’s, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of him liking you romantically. You had never been in this position. Since your crush on Sunghoon had been one-sided for the past few years, you never expected to be on the receiving end. 
“You…” you trailed off, floundering to find something to say—something that wouldn’t make you sound stupid or mean. You settled with, “You, too?”
His eyes beamed with hope. “For a year now.”
Your world was so small before. It was just you, Sunghoon, and Jongseong. 
Before you could even wonder if there was space in your heart for Jaeyun, you realized that you had already let him burrow his way in there.
“Can I kiss you?” Jaeyun asked. 
You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh, and every once of nervousness slipped away. You always thought you could attain this level of closeness with Sunghoon, but maybe your relationship with him was just that fragile—where you could just grab the string binding you two together and snip it completely. 
But it was different with Jaeyun. 
“Yeah,” you answered, smiling, “you can.”
And then, with Jaeyun’s breath fanning your lips, you felt Sunghoon completely dissolve from the impounding thoughts racking your brain. Right now, it was Jaeyun and only Jaeyun. 
You leaned in first, cupping his cheek and pressing your lips against Jaeyun’s soft ones. It was weird, kissing for the first time, but he leaned into it instantly so that your movements were less awkward and more guided. 
A fire blazed inside of you, burning hotter than imaginable. You didn’t expect Jaeyun to drive you this crazy—to crave more, to want more. You drew back before you slid your hand into his hair, although you were tempted to go further when his pillowy lips peppered soft kisses along your jawline. 
But you didn’t want to go overboard or ruin anything by going too fast. You settled for leaving another chaste kiss against his lips before pulling back, and you were delighted when you saw how pleased Jaeyun was. He was practically glowing. 
From then on, you and Jaeyun had a relationship that extended past something platonic, but it wasn’t like you two were official. Naturally, you ended up confiding in him over everything. 
While Sunghoon still held a place in your heart as your first love, you grew to care for Jaeyun, who kindled a gentler fire in you. Sunghoon, on the other hand, left you burned and scarred. 
You didn’t want to rush into a relationship, mainly because you didn’t want Jaeyun to think he was a rebound, and he respected that. So he waited for you to figure out your feelings and let your heart choose who was right for you. 
You weren’t stupid, though; you knew that chasing after Sunghoon was a hopeless cause.
You and Jaeyun drifted about in a limbo-state of your relationship. You two went on a couple of dates, got to know each other at a deeper level, and spent a lot of time together. He became the person you thought about when you were falling asleep and when you woke up in the morning. 
You two got along surprisingly well, and you wondered why you ever had doubts about him in the beginning. Sure, Jaeyun still got on your nerves at times, but you just found it funny after the wave of annoyance passed. 
Your friends started to talk about how close you two were and frequently brought up the idea of you two dating. Of course, you always denied it, enjoying the privacy you and Jaeyun had. 
But as your relationship blossomed into something more serious, you decided that you didn’t want things to stay casual any longer. So, you asked him out, and Jaeyun, being the lovesick puppy he was, accepted without a second thought. 
You thought about how much had changed in your life. Sunghoon stopped hanging out with you completely, resorting to being alone most of the time. Everyone was concerned about his behavior, but after several attempts of failed confrontation, they all collectively gave up. You and Jongseong still kept an eye on him, using roundabout ways to find out how he was doing; it was the most you two could do given how little opportunity you had to talk to him. 
You didn’t share many classes with Jongseong anymore, but you two were still close, even after your “two of us against the world” friendship with Sunghoon had gone to shit. 
Jongseong was kind, though, and despite how he was rough around the edges, he was gentle enough. 
But he knew that Sunghoon was hiding something dark, and that alone made you somewhat nervous around him. 
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You felt unsettled the entire day, but when your group chat started flooding with texts about Jungwon in the middle of the night, you felt an icy chill travel down your spine. 
It was all over the news. The whole story about him being down with the flu was just a cover-up while authorities were looking for him.
You felt nauseous. 
HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT FOUND DEAD NEAR WOODS. FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.
The 16-year-old boy was found dead at the scene. The parents of the deceased student have identified him as Yang Jungwon. As of now, there are no leads, but authorities have ruled the case as a homicide. 
Police have asked anyone with information to contact their local police department.
You read the headline again. Over and over again until your vision was blurry and the words were convoluted. Your fingers were raw and bitten down to the nail bed by the time you were able to put your phone down so that you could just cry into your hands. 
By the time you got around to reading the details, grimacing at the descriptions of mutilation done to Jungwon’s body and how his body had been decomposing for weeks now, you had to run to your toilet and dry heave everything out. 
You weren’t the closest to Jungwon or anything, but imagining such a bright person meet such a horrific end wasn’t easy to process. For hours, you ignored all of the calls and texts and attempts to comfort from your parents. You stared straight at your wall—so terrified that your chest hurt and your breathing was ragged. 
Later that night, when the world was quiet and dreaming, you received a text from Sunghoon. 
sunghoon: Hey sunghoon: I’ve been thinking about you. Are you doing okay? sunghoon: I haven’t been a good friend lately, I’m sorry sunghoon: It’s still the two of us against the world
There was a time when those words made you feel like you were on top of the world, soaring high over the clouds. 
Now, though, all you could feel was a horrible sensation of dread.
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It had been months since Sunghoon and Jongseong’s falling out. 
You were seventeen now, but you felt hollower as you aged. Sunghoon showed up to school and lingered within your group silently, only contributing when spoken to directly. He didn’t approach you anymore or ask to hang out after school. Actually, no one knew what he did after school. He would head straight home and then go completely off the radar. 
Gone off the rails, as Sunoo called it. 
You cried several nights over it. You felt like not only was your best friend slipping away from you, but Sunghoon’s disconnect from the group would soon make you pull away, too. You had Jaeyun, of course, but nothing felt the same anymore. With Jungwon dead, the group felt tense and gloomy. You all started hanging out with other people and slowly stopped responding in the group chat. 
Part of you realized that Sunghoon’s detachment was because you didn’t reply to him the night Jungwon’s murder was publicized. Back then, you suspected that Sunghoon could have been behind it, judging by your conversation with Jongseong earlier. It all added up in your head, but the only thing that was stopping you from believing it fully was that you couldn’t fathom Sunghoon ever doing something so evil. 
“I don’t know what’s going on with him,” you whispered into the phone, even though there wasn’t anyone around that you were worried about listening in. “He’s shutting me out now. Something must’ve happened to him.” 
You heard Jaeyun hum and contemplate for a moment before he replied, “Maybe he just needs space.” 
“I think something happened between him and Jongseong,” you admitted, “but I can’t imagine Jongseong saying anything that would make Sunghoon ignore him for this long.”
“It must’ve been serious, then.” 
“But… but it’s Sunghoon; he’s”—you paused as you recalled what Jongseong once called him—“bulletproof.”
There was a pause.
“I guess that’s the problem with being bulletproof,” Jaeyun spoke gravely. “People think they can just keep shooting.”
What Jaeyun told you that night kept replaying in your head over the next week—over and over again. It hit you a little too hard, and you waited to confront Sunghoon about it. You wanted him to know that he could be vulnerable, too. But you couldn’t even speak to your best friend these days. He had been avoiding everyone like the plague.
You assumed it had something to do with Jongseong, but when you talked to him about it, he was hesitant to get into it.
“You’re the closest person to him,” you told him. Today was colder, and you rubbed your hands together for warmth as you and Jongseong stood by the gates after school. “I think if you guys sit down and talk things out, then he’ll start being himself again.”
“I was the closest person to him,” Jongseong corrected with a scoff. “Plus, there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Nothing to talk about? What about your friendship?”
You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. Anger roiled deep in your chest, and you were too furious to realize that Jongseong only looked dejected in response. If he wasn’t going to explain what happened, then you couldn’t understand what was eating away at their relationship. 
“There is no friendship, Y/N,” he said slowly, in a voice so low that it sounded like the calm before the storm. His words made everything come to a halt, and you felt like time itself had frozen. “I suggest you let go of Sunghoon, too. You’re hanging onto someone who’s beyond help.”
“But I don’t know what you know!” you exclaimed. “I can’t let go of someone just like that, Jongseong. I need answers.”
He was quiet before he asked, “Do you remember when Sunghoon stayed over at your house once when we were fourteen?”
“When his house caught on fire?” you recalled, but the memory was sort of hazy for you. All you remembered was how you were in complete awe that Sunghoon was unscathed and unbothered by the incident. 
“Yeah,” Jongseong’s voice was grim as he said, “and I bet he never told you that he was the one who started that fire on purpose.”
It was like a punch to the gut. You could only shake your head blankly, lips parted in disbelief. 
He continued, “When we were fifteen, he thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught—”
No.
“—and, at sixteen, he actually did it.”
No. No. 
“Jongseong,” you whispered, your voice smaller than you intended, “was it…” 
“Jungwon?” He said the name so carefully, as if the world would explode into nothingness if he did. You had been gnawing at your lip so hard that you drew blood, yet that couldn’t distract you from the haunted look in Jongseong’s eyes. “Yeah, he killed Jungwon.”
You felt like you had just been doused with ice-cold water. 
“I shouldn’t have brought Jungwon with me. I knew Sunghoon was gonna do it to someone, but I didn’t know…” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath that racked his entire body. “I didn’t think it would be him. I brought Jungwon to talk him out of whatever was going on, not to…” Jongseong stopped himself again, covering his face with his hands to wipe away the tears that had started to fall. 
It’s you and me, Sunghoon’s voice chimed in your head. The two of us against the world.
You thought your world had been shattered, but then you realized that it had actually been broken for a long time.
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That night, you asked Jaeyun to come over, and he arrived at your door in record speed.
You two were sitting on your bed, controllers in hand, but the screen was off and neither of you were even in the mood to play. You must have trusted him more than anyone by now because the words started spilling with no preamble. You ended up explaining most of your conversation with Jongseong after you had Jaeyun swear on his life that he wouldn’t tell a soul.
Of course, you didn’t expect any normal person to compliantly come to terms with the fact that their friend murdered their other friend, but Jaeyun was a bit different when it came to you. Instead of accusing you of lying or denying the truth, he believed you wholeheartedly. You couldn’t tell if he was patient with you, or if he was just horrified by everything you had told him. 
It had been an entire year since Jungwon had been found dead and the case closed as an unsolved murder, but your words sucker punched Jaeyun like it had just happened yesterday. 
Jaeyun’s tone was urgent when he said, “We have to tell someone.” When he noticed your hesitation, he shook his head at you with a disapproving frown. “Y/N, this is serious. This is Jungwon, my best friend.” 
Your mouth went dry. “I-I know, it’s just—”
Jaeyun didn’t have to cut you off. You froze right when you saw tears welling up in his eyes.
“Y/N.” He said your name gently, but you still flinched. You had never heard your name being called with so much despair. “If Sunghoon really murdered Jungwon, then I can’t keep this a secret.”
“Give me a few days,” you pleaded. “I just want to hear Sunghoon out. No matter what he says, I’ll come with you to testify.” 
He shook his head immediately, eyes fierce. “You are not going anywhere near Sunghoon—not after what he did to Jungwon.”
“Then let me ask Jong—”
“Y/N,” Jaeyun interrupted, letting his hand slide over yours. His eyes were full of concern when he asked, “How do you know you can trust Jongseong?” 
Your hands started to shake.
“Y/N,” he said again, “if Jongseong took Jungwon to see Sunghoon, what do you think he did after Sunghoon killed him?”
Your pulse raced.
“If Jongseong knew about Sunghoon’s behavior for this long, why hasn’t he ever done anything?” 
All this time, you thought your world had grown a little bigger ever since you met Sunghoon and Jongseong. 
But you were living in a fantasy by yourself. 
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Not so long after your talk with Jaeyun, your phone rang. You were in the middle of finishing up your history paper when you saw the caller ID flash across your screen.
It was Sunghoon.
You didn’t even give yourself time to think about it first. You just picked up the phone immediately. It was an old habit; you saw Sunghoon and accepted the call without a second thought. You never expected Sunghoon to ever call you again, so you didn’t exactly have any practice in rejecting his calls.
“Y/N?” came the familiar voice of Park Sunghoon—gentle, but almost like he was a caged animal.
“Sunghoon?” You swallowed hard. “Uh, how are you? It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, but you weren’t sure what he was apologizing for. “It was supposed to be the two of us against the world.”
You frowned. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?”
Instead of answering your question, Sunghoon hesitated before saying, “We should catch up sometime. You can read part of the story I’m writing.”
You paused, and before he could ask if you were still there, you replied, “Yeah, sure.”
“Right.” Sunghoon sounded like he had more to say. You almost didn’t catch it because he was so quiet, and the last thing you heard before he hung up was a quiet, “Bye, then.”
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Your deepest regret was answering your phone later that night.
It was hours after Sunghoon called you. Jongseong was more of a texter, so you were surprised when his caller ID flashed across your screen. It was definitely not a reasonable hour for a high school student to be out and about, but nothing could have prepared you for what you heard on the other side of the line.
Jongseong was sobbing. 
The sound chilled you to the bone. You never heard Jongseong cry, but this didn’t feel normal; this cry was frantic and mangled, like he was spiraling out of control. 
“Y/N, you have to come over quickly,” Jongseong begged through broken sobs and heavy breaths. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.”
“Jongseong, calm down. Tell me what’s happening.”
“You have my location, right? Just hurry. Please.” And he hung up. 
In a daze, you called Jaeyun and asked him to pick you up. 
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“I really think we should just call the cops,” Jaeyun offered, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on with Jongseong, but this sounds sketchy, Y/N.”
Pitted fear festered in your throat. You knew something was off, but you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Jongseong, too. You had gotten so used to not being alone that you were paranoid of returning to having no one. 
“Call them as soon as we get there,” you said. “I just need to make sure Jongseong’s okay.” 
Jaeyun pressed his lips into a thin, grim line, but he kept driving. 
It was a port that Jongseong’s location directed you to, and discomfort crept into your limbs as soon as Jaeyun pulled into the area. Maybe you should’ve stayed back where it was safer and let the police handle everything, but you must have been a fool. It was just that Jongseong’s cries echoed in your head whenever you started having second thoughts.
You could hear him before you saw him.
Jongseong’s soft sobs could be heard from behind a metal storage unit, and you and Jaeyun inched closer carefully after getting out of the car. Your heart dropped to your stomach; you were dreading the worst, and when you turned the corner into the closed area Jongseong was in, you realized that the sight before you was the worst it could get. 
Sunghoon’s body.
You waited for his chest to rise, but not even a shallow breath escaped his blue-tinged lips.
It took you a moment to reorient yourself and realize that Sunghoon wasn’t just passed out, he was dead. 
You saw the blood pooling around him and the wounds piercing his torso, staining his white shirt, but you wanted to believe your mind was playing tricks on you. You convinced yourself that Sunghoon was going to get up any second now and start laughing, and then Jongseong would join in and tell you it was all a joke. 
But that wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t fear that overtook you—not an overwhelm of emotion—it was numbness. You stared at Sunghoon’s body as he bled out onto the concrete, blood pooling into the cracks in the ground. You felt an odd sort of disconnect. 
You tilted your head to see Sunghoon’s face turned to the side against the concrete. His blank eyes just stared into nothingness, and you realized that you would never get to see Sunghoon’s warm, sincere gaze ever again. You were never going to see his bright smile. You were never going to hear his contagious laugh. You were never going to read the wonderful stories he wrote. 
You supposed your life was always meant to be a tragedy. 
“H-Hoon?” Jaeyun choked up behind you. He was staring down at Sunghoon’s lifeless body in horror before his expression was slowly replaced with anger. “Jongseong, what the hell did you do?!”
“It was self-defense, man,” Jongseong whimpered out before his body was racked with sobs again. “He pulled a knife on me out of nowhere. I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” He exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Sunghoon.
“Come on, guys,” Jongseong pleaded. “I can’t go to fucking prison. I’m eighteen now; it’s not juvie, it’s a life sentence.” You didn’t know what he was getting at until he requested the unthinkable, “Help me get rid of the body.”
You wanted to puke. You eyed the shiny metal soaked in blood that Jongseong was clutching. You were never going to see Sunghoon again. You were never going to hang out with him over the weekend. You were never going to hear his voice again. 
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “What the fuck are you gonna do when they realize he’s gone missing? You just killed someone! This is on you, Jongseong, not us!”
“Are you going to help me get rid of it or not?!” Jongseong tugged at his hair. “Just help me throw him off the dock, and we can all walk away from this.”
You watched helplessly, horror-stricken. “I… I can’t.”
“The body’s gonna float and show up somewhere,” Jaeyun countered with stony eyes. “They’re gonna catch you.”
Jongseong looked terrifyingly pale. You wondered if it was just the glow of the moon, or if he was also holding in his urge to puke. “I’ll just cut his stomach so he sinks.”
Disgusted, Jaeyun scowled. “You’re a monster.”
You watched as Jongseong tried hauling Sunghoon’s body before giving up and dragging him by the legs. You shot Jaeyun a warning look, mouthing for him to call the police before Jongseong noticed. He lingered back to do so while you followed Jongseong to plead him to stop. His arms gave out as soon as he stepped onto the planks, and he let Sunghoon’s lower half collapse onto the solid wood. 
“Y/N, help me cut open his stomach,” he ordered, hardly sparing you a glance. If he did, he would have seen how horrified you were.
“Oh,” you said, voice wavering, “that’s… that—that’s his…” 
“Y/N, help me.”
“Jongseong,” you begged, “please… please stop.”
He paid you no attention, though. You felt ghastly as Jongseong used a paring knife to make an incision on Sunghoon’s stomach. The smell was putrid. You screwed your eyes shut as the metallic smell of blood invaded your nostrils. Your nausea plunged into your gut, and you had to fight the pervasive urge to hurl.
A stream of Sunghoon’s blood made its way to your shoes, staining the soles. 
Jongseong was cutting your old best friend open. 
The dread had kept you numb for this long, but it was when reality settled in that you finally lost it. You couldn’t handle it anymore and pitched forward over the edge of the dock, throwing up until you were heaving up bile. You sobbed through it all, mournful and low, and your friend paid you no attention while he was cutting through flesh. 
When Jongseong was done, he wiped at his cheek, leaving behind a smear of blood. Sunghoon’s blood. You stared at him, and you had never been more terrified of him in your life. 
And then you really noticed Jongseong. You noticed how Sunghoon’s blood was coated all over his hands, how he hardly had any scratches or bruises on his body, how merciless his eyes were as he stared down at his old best friend. 
The realization that washed over you was frightening. 
“Sunghoon didn’t actually try to kill you, did he?” you managed to warble out. “You killed him yourself.”
A deep silence from him followed—heavy and wretched. Sunghoon’s blood was so dark that it nearly looked black under the dim light, and you could only stare helplessly until Jaeyun made his way to the dock, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. 
Jongseong turned to you and Jaeyun, clutching his knife tightly. You could hardly recognize the boy in front of you. You never truly understood the term “paralyzed by fear” until you saw the crazed look in Jongseong’s eyes—cold and haunting. 
Jaeyun’s eyes glistened with tears and his throat was thick with emotion when he said, “Jongseong, please—just hang on and… and we can talk this out.” 
The hand gripping his knife started shaking. “You won’t tell anyone, right? You guys won’t snitch on me, right?” When there was no response from you or Jaeyun, Jongseong’s desperation grew stronger. He turned to you with his eyes big and terrified. “Y/N, come on, we’ve known each other for years. You know I—”
“Shut up!” Jaeyun yelled. His protective grip on you tightened. “Cut the bullshit, Jongseong. The police are gonna be here soon, and they’re gonna take you straight to prison once they see what you did to Hoon.”
It was like a switch flipped in him. A distant part of your mind wondered if you could get everyone out of this—somehow bring Sunghoon back and go back to your normal life—but you immediately shut down that fantasy as soon as Jongseong’s eyes darkened. 
In the darkness, you could make out an amused expression on his face. His smile took on a cold edge. 
“Fine,” he bit out. “I’ll just have to get rid of you two before the police get here, then.”
You felt like your world slowed. Your eyes burned with the threat of tears. You could tell Jongseong was walking closer to you while Jaeyun was desperately trying to tug you and get you to run, but you were frozen in place. You wanted to believe that your old friend wouldn’t actually hurt you, but then you didn’t know what to think when he raised his knife. 
It had all happened so fast. Too fast. 
In your brief struggle as Jongseong tried to stab you, you heard a sharp gasp that tore you from your haze, like you had just been drenched in cold water. Brutally sober. You tried to push Jongseong off of you, but he was too heavy, too limp. Jaeyun shouldered his way between you two and shoved Jongseong back, grimacing when his skull hit the wood with a thud. 
You heard one last, strangled gasp from Jongseong before he stopped breathing. The last star in his eyes twinkled until it dimmed for good. 
Jongseong laid flat on the dock with his knife piercing his chest.
As you heard police sirens go off in the distance, Jaeyun wrapped his arms around you before you finally broke down into his chest. 
Your best friends were dead and your world was broken beyond repair. 
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“So, it was self-defense?” Detective Lee asked, his piercing eyes boring right into yours. “Purely accidental? You had no intention of harming Park Jongseong?”
You shook your head. “I still couldn’t process the fact that he killed Sunghoon, so I didn’t think he’d actually try to hurt me.”
You wanted to cry. You bit your chapped lip, but all you could taste was blood that you doubted was even there. You couldn’t even say Sunghoon’s name without seeing that radiant smile of his stained with deep red. 
You sucked in a shaky breath. “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I see Jaeyun now?”
Detective Lee eyed you for a moment. Finally, you saw some sort of sympathy in his gaze, although you felt sort of repulsed that you were being pitied in this state. The detective muttered something about him being back later, and he left the interrogation room, leaving you handcuffed to the table. 
A minute passed by. Another. Several more. 
You were pretty sure it had been at least an hour or two of staring at the wall, but the passage of time felt meaningless now. You could wait hours, even days, but you didn’t think you would ever be ready to confront what cruel reality awaited you. 
You were so tired of everything, so exhausted that you didn’t even think about your parents until now. Were they here? Were they informed about your arrest? They must have been worried sick all night. 
When the door opened, your head shot up. 
“You’re free to go, Y/N,” Detective Lee said, pulling out a key to uncuff you from the table. 
You were frozen. You just stared up at Detective Lee with your jaw hung open. 
“I know this took awhile, but there was no security footage at the scene to confirm your story,” he elaborated. “But your stories matched up, and we found more evidence in the trunk of Jongseong’s car that he had been planning this murder.” 
He helped you to your feet and escorted you out of the room. You were able to pick up everything they took from you before you were locked up in the holding cell—your keys, wallet, and your phone. Then, you were taken to the waiting room where your parents were seated at the far end. 
At the sight of you, they all but leapt from their seats to rush over, hands cupping your face and arms embracing your weak, battered figure. There was so much love in their eyes, and their fear over possibly losing their daughter replaced any anger they had toward the situation. However, you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ended up getting an earful the next day. 
“Mom, Dad,” you whimpered out, suddenly overcome with emotion. You were immediately aware of how weak and pathetic you felt. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” your father silenced you by rubbing your back in soothing circles. “Jaeyun’s family wanted us to let you know that he’s okay, too. They just took him home about ten minutes ago.”
You were slightly disappointed. Part of you was hoping that he would wait for you, but you figured Jaeyun’s family would have wanted to go home right away. You definitely would have felt better if you got to see your boyfriend in the flesh to make sure he was alive and well, but you weren’t going to complain now. 
There was still a ghost of a smile on your lips as your parents walked you to their car. They gushed and gushed about how glad they were about you being safe and sound, and about how they never would’ve expected Jongseong of all people to end up being a murderer.
You were happy to be alive, of course, but you felt so empty. 
You pulled out your phone to try and text Jaeyun, but, as you thought, it was dead. 
“Mom, can I use your phone?” you asked, and you dialed Jaeyun’s number immediately as soon as she handed it to you. You had it memorized because it was a combination of numbers that was fairly easy to remember. 
It rang four times, and by the fifth ring, you were scared that he wouldn’t pick up. But then, it beeped.
“Hello?” Jaeyun answered. “Who is this?”
It was like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders once you heard his voice. Despite Detective Lee informing you that Jaeyun was, indeed, alive, you felt more reassured hearing it from your boyfriend himself. You wanted to cry then and there, but you didn’t want to make your parents worry unnecessarily. 
You forgot you were even supposed to respond when Jaeyun spoke again, “Is anyone there?”
“Jaeyun, it’s me,” you mumbled softly. “Y/N.”
You heard him suck in a sharp breath. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jaeyun gave you the breakdown of how his experience went, which took a completely different turn than yours. After receiving medical attention, they brought him back to his holding cell to sleep for hardly a few hours. The detective interrogating Jaeyun tried to build trust with him, telling him they wanted to help and just needed his confession. They lied about already having evidence that he killed Jongseong, but Jaeyun denied it and told them the whole story. He was only free to leave after they cross-examined his story with yours. 
“Jesus,” you whispered into the phone, breathing out a small laugh. By now, you were already parked at your house and walking to your front door. “This is so fucked up.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “but we’ll get through it.”
“Yeah, Jae. Us against the world.”
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Sim Jaeyun spent nine hours being questioned by authorities. 
He knew the nature of the crime that occurred was complex, and he was still reeling from the loss and betrayal that left a deep wound in his chest, but there was something that terrified him still. 
It wasn’t the murderous look in Park Jongseong’s eyes, or the blood completely drained from Park Sunghoon’s face. 
Rather, what scared Jaeyun the most was that he spent so long pining after you and getting to know you at a deeper level. He genuinely fell hard for you, even though you had monsters in the closet. He thought he knew almost everything about you, like how you were a terrible liar. 
Yet, you had just lied about everything that went down last night for nine hours straight. 
What scared Jaeyun the most was how clueless he had been about who you really were.
Truthfully, he was also in the wrong for going along with your lie. It was definitely going to bite him back one day. In the moment, though, he was far too much of a coward to go against you. Although he was able to get Jungwon the justice he deserved and allowed his family to finally be at peace with answers, Jaeyun still felt horrible. He just remembered the desperate look in your eyes as your face and hands were stained with blood, begging him to protect you. 
Jaeyun’s downfall must have been that he liked you too much to say no.
It was true that Jongseong called you in a panic, begging you to show up at the port as quickly as possible, and it was true that you wanted Jaeyun to drive you there instead of calling the cops first. 
Jaeyun knew deep down that you were making the wrong choice, but he had hope that you knew what you were doing. Truthfully, although he liked you a lot, he was still wary about how you felt toward Sunghoon. He just couldn’t understand how you were still unconsciously protecting him after hearing what happened to Jungwon. He knew that you wanted answers, but Jaeyun was worried about how you’d react once you got them. 
The real story—the one neither of you told the detectives—never started with Park Jongseong killing Park Sunghoon.
It really started when you and Jaeyun arrived at the port to see that no one was around. It was eerily quiet, and Jaeyun was starting to regret not turning around and heading straight for the police station. When you two got out of the car, you walked several feet down the line of shipping containers before returning to Jaeyun with a confused look on your face.
“I don’t see either of them,” you said, but then your eyes grew unfocused as you stared at something—or, rather, someone—behind Jaeyun. 
He turned around to see Jongseong walking over to the two of you in a calm fashion, as if he had no other care in the world. The port was relatively an open space, so he had no idea where Jongseong could have emerged from. Jaeyun rolled his neck, more frustrated than anything. 
“Jongseong!” you called out. 
When he neared you two, Jongseong shoved his hands into his pockets. “Oh, you brought your boyfriend.”
“What’s going on?” you urged. “Is it Sunghoon? Did something happen to him?”
“Wow, that hurts, Y/N.” Jongseong barked out a laugh, but nothing about his tone sounded sincere. “I call you in the middle of the night and all you can think about is Hoon? Wow. How do you feel about that, Jaeyun?”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just glowered. 
Nothing about this felt right. 
You stammered, “I-I just assumed—”
“Put yourself in my shoes,” Jongseong cut you off with little regard for your excuses. “Sorry to say this in front of your boyfriend, but imagine how I feel when the girl I’ve liked for years only cares about my best friend.” 
The air went still.
Your voice was barely a whisper when you asked, “Excuse me?” 
Jaeyun pursed his lips together, and, for a moment, he thought his tongue would start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Sunghoon liked the girl that Jongseong liked, and if that girl was you, then Jaeyun was worried that he already lost you. He knew for months that he would never truly have you the way he wanted. Your feelings for Sunghoon were stronger, and although Jaeyun was able to pack his insecurities into a tiny ball and shove it down his throat, it was all coming out now. 
His uneasy heart shattered into a million pieces once he caught a glimpse of your expression—hopeful and longing. And it wasn’t for Jongseong; it was for Sunghoon. 
“Now that’s a great expression,” came an overly-enthusiastic voice from Jaeyun’s right.
Park Sunghoon was leaning against one of the shipping containers, arms folded across his chest before he uncrossed them and made his way toward the three of you. He must have been hiding behind the containers this whole time because Jaeyun hadn’t seen him at all before. 
The situation was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Jaeyun wanted to shrink back when Sunghoon suddenly took great interest in him, keeping his eyes fixed on him instead of you or Jongseong. He used to have such bright and happy smiles, but, this time, Jaeyun almost thought his grin had been sliced into his face with a blade.
Sunghoon slung an arm over Jongseong’s shoulder. “Wow, Jae, now I really wanna see the look on your face when you’re in total despair,” he crooned, almost mocking. Jaeyun’s blood rushed in his ears when Sunghoon’s tongue swiped across one of his fangs. “You should’ve seen the look on Jungwon’s face.”
Jaeyun lunged before he could even think, but he stopped himself as soon as you held onto him, stopping him from hitting Sunghoon. 
And that was when he knew he already lost you. 
“Don’t,” you insisted.
“Are you serious?” he breathed out, brows knitting into a frown as he looked down at you. 
Shame clung to your throat, keeping your mouth shut, but Jaeyun was more concerned now about the sharp blade pointed at his throat.
His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Jongseong had a paring knife pointed straight at him, and Sunghoon’s smile never faltered. They were clearly on the same side. There was a reason why Jeongseong never did anything about Sunghoon after killing Jungwon. 
Jaeyun felt stupid for not putting it together earlier.
“I’d listen to your girlfriend,” Jongseong warned. His voice crawled all over him, freezing Jaeyun cold to the bone. “You might as well hear us out before you die here tonight.”
“Can’t exactly let you two run off now that you know what happened to Jungwon,” Sunghoon added.
“Jungwon was our friend,” Jaeyun hissed. “He was my best friend, you sick freak! What did you do to him? Why? He’s never… he never did anything wrong!”
“You’re right. He didn’t do anything wrong,” Sunghoon confirmed, surprisingly calm and collected. “In fact, he exceeded my expectations. It was a great performance, actually.” Jaeyun clenched his fist tight—so tight that his nails dug into his palms and drew blood—and Sunghoon took notice of this with a delighted hum. “You should’ve heard him scream, Jae. I had my doubts about him at first, but when he was begging me for his life, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
You were distraught. “Sunghoon, you—”
It all happened in seconds, like a rubber band finally snapping after being stretched too thin. Jaeyun used his elbow to knock Jongseong’s arm out of the way, and he shoved Sunghoon as soon as he found an opening, driving his hands into his ribs. He heard you cry out, but Jaeyun could only see red until he was dragged back up by Jongseong, the sharp blade of the knife being pressed to his throat. 
“Stop!” you cried. “Leave Jaeyun out of this! You wanted me, right? Just let him go. Please.” 
“I don’t think so.” Sunghoon wrapped an arm around you. “You two already know too much, and Jongseong and I have been waiting for this finale for years.”
Your eyes had a faraway look in them for a moment before you turned your attention back to Jongseong. “You told me…”
“I told you that when we were fifteen, Sunghoon thought it would be fun to plan out a murder without getting caught,” Jongseong filled in the blanks for you, a haunting smile playing on his lips, “and I was in on it.”
Sunghoon tutted. “But you got it all wrong, Y/N. It wasn’t Jungwon’s murder that we were planning; it was yours.”
You looked up at him in horror.
Jaeyun struggled against Jongseong for a moment, face taut with unbridled anger. He just wanted to get to you. Get Sunghoon’s filthy hands off of you. 
“I’m a writer. I write stories,” Sunghoon continued. “Isn’t it a great twist? Convincing my childhood best friend that I loved her all this time, only to reveal that she’s gonna die at my hands.” He scoffed. “Jungwon was just at the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was good practice. I was too careless back then. I shouldn’t have left all those drawings and papers out like that when he came over, but now I’m gonna finish the job properly.” 
Your breathing was shallow. Jaeyun could see the flood of despair racking your body with soft sobs and quick pants. Your gaze fell to the ground, and Sunghoon peered to catch a better look at you. 
“Good,” he praised. “That’s what I wanna see. Wow, that’s great, Y/N. I can’t wait to see more when—”
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jaeyun yelled, grunting when Jongseong pressed the knife harder against his supple skin. 
With an exaggerated flourish of his hands, Sunghoon raised both arms and backed up as if he was a deer caught in headlights. He wore an easygoing smile, yet something sinister was tucked behind the curve of his lips. Your inconsolable self stayed fixed in place, staring helplessly at your shoes.
“For the past two years, I’ve been isolating myself from the friend group for the sake of this story and its ending,” Sunghoon said. “I think I deserve a little fun right now, Jae.”
“Fuck you,” Jaeyun spat. “You deserve to go to Hell.”
Sunghoon took a step closer to Jaeyun, ducking his head so that they were at eye-level with each other. Jaeyun tried to struggle against Jongseong once more, but he froze when the knife pierced his skin. He felt something trickle down the column of his neck, and he soon realized it was his own blood. 
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Sunghoon mocked a pout. He lowered his voice by an octave, only for Jaeyun to hear. “Competing with a childhood friend is brave, I’ll tell you that.” 
Jaeyun’s blood boiled. To his surprise, Sunghoon gestured for Jongseong to let go of him. He took the paring knife from his friend and handed it to Jaeyun. 
“Take it,” Sunghoon said. “Why don’t you try killing me? You wanna get back at me, right? I killed your best friend, after all.”
Owlish, he blinked back at Sunghoon, almost absently. Jaeyun really considered it for a moment—like, really considered it. Some part of him wanted to senselessly beat Sunghoon up until he was unrecognizable, but the morally righteous side of him knew that he could never stoop to Jongseong or Sunghoon’s level. 
Jaeyun took the knife by the handle, weighing it in his palm experimentally before chucking it away—far from both Sunghoon and Jongseong. Jaeyun was pretty sure he could overtake Jongseong if Sunghoon turned his back, but he wasn’t sure if Jongseong had another weapon up his sleeve. He heard the blade skid and scrape against the concrete, and he could only hope that Sunghoon and Jongseong being distracted by him would give you time to escape. 
But Jeongseong immediately stopped you as soon as he saw you picking up the knife, and he let go of Jaeyun to grab ahold of you. Jaeyun tried to yank Jongseong back by the back of his shirt, but Sunghoon grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed his head against the metal of one of the shipping containers.
Jaeyun’s world was thrown off-balance. The ground bounced, tilted, swayed. He was so dizzy and disoriented that he couldn’t tell if his head was spinning or if he was collapsing. 
The corners of his vision grew hazy with white splotches dancing around. Jaeyun tried hard to focus, making out some of the yelling that was going back and forth, but he couldn’t think at all when a newly-formed cut on his forehead was getting blood all over his face and hands. 
He doubled forward, falling onto his knees. Jaeyun had to stay there for a while and ride out the intense waves of vertigo until he was stable again. When the world finally returned to its normal axis and stopped bouncing under him, Jaeyun lifted his head to see you and Jongseong screaming at each other.
And Sunghoon was on the ground.
He stumbled over, and it was as if the white noise in Jaeyun’s ears had drowned out everything in the background. He couldn’t see or focus on anything except the pained look on Sunghoon’s face as the color drained from his neck. Blood was gushing from his jugular vein, and he was digging his palm into his neck to put pressure on the wound. 
“—you stabbed him!” you screamed at Jongseong. Your voice was hysterical; Jaeyun had never heard you sound so desperate, not even when he was being held at knifepoint. 
“Fuck, Y/N, I wouldn’t have hurt him if you didn’t pull on my arm!” Jongseong yelled back. He sank to the ground, simultaneously dropping the knife and dropping his head between his knees. 
The sight was miserable to watch. Jongseong wailed loud and mournful until he couldn’t take it anymore, doubling over so that he could throw up until nothing but bile was coming out. When it seemed as though he had nothing else to heave out of his stomach, Jongseong sat up for a brief moment. You and Jaeyun watched as his eyes rolled back almost instantly, falling onto his back and hitting his skull against the concrete. The exhaustion must have finally caught up to him, and you two didn’t have long until he was conscious again.
Jaeyun turned his attention back to Sunghoon, watching his life bleed out of his body slowly. For some reason, an odd disconnect came over Jaeyun, and he bent down to help apply pressure over Sunghoon’s wound. At first, Sunghoon gritted his teeth, but even he knew when to accept help when it was needed. 
Sim Jaeyun was pretty sure he was broken beyond belief by now, but it was impossible for him to ignore someone who was dying right before him. 
Even if he murdered Jungwon. 
“Y/N, we need to get him to a—” 
Jaeyun cut himself off when he looked up at you to see that your expression had changed. Something was different. You looked like numbness had seeped into your body, coiling around your heart until you couldn’t feel anything. The way you looked down at Jongseong, clutching his knife tightly, made Jaeyun worry.
“Y/N,” Jaeyun said again—slower, “whatever you’re thinking… please put it down.”
It didn’t seem like you were listening, though. Almost as if your body and brain were at two different places. 
“Y/N—” Jaeyun shuddered when you brought the knife down, driving it straight into Jongseong’s chest. 
Jaeyun’s stomach lurched. He watched as Jongseong struggled for his life, hardly conscious as you repeatedly stabbed him over and over again until Jaeyun was yelling at you to stop. He was sure he would never be able to close his eyes again without hearing Jongesong’s blood-curdling screams and seeing Sunghoon’s face drained of color. 
“Wow,” Sunghoon choked out. One last amused look crossed his face before it fell apart painfully. “I told you, Jae, there’s no competing with a childhood best friend.” Jaeyun flushed with anger, but it dissolved quickly when he realized Sunghoon’s breathing got slower, shallower. The look on his face was one of someone accepting their untimely death. “Thanks for the show, though.”
In his arms, Sunghoon took his last breath and went still.
It wasn’t grief that Jaeyun felt. It was something far greater.
“Jaeyun, I—I didn’t mean to,” you sobbed out, shakily holding up your bloodstained hands. “It was self-defense! I tried to stop him, but he was trying to kill me, and then he… he killed Sunghoon. I couldn’t do anything else. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t—” You exhaled shakily. “I couldn’t do anything else.”
Jaeyun didn’t respond. He just stared at you in disbelief. 
“Come on, Jae,” you pleaded. Oh, so it was Jae now. “You have to help me get rid of their bodies. I can’t go to prison!”
“Get rid of the body?” Jaeyun raised his voice, exasperated. “Y/N, they’re dead! We have to tell the police everything. I mean, what are you gonna do when your prints match?”
Your lips pressed together in a grim line. “Your prints are on the knife, too.”
Were you blackmailing him? Jaeyun couldn’t believe what he was hearing from you. He never expected you, of all people, to be the one to throw him under the bus like this. He had trusted you with his life before, and you threw it all away in seconds. 
“Are you going to help me or not?” You looked toward the dock over the water. It was a good enough distance for you to drag Sunghoon and Jongseong’s bodies over to, but Jaeyun sure as hell didn’t want to get involved. “Just help me throw them in the water, and we can both walk away from this, Jae. We can go back to our lives, okay?”
He shook his head sadly. You just sounded like a stranger to him. 
“Please, Y/N,” he pleaded, tears stinging his eyes, “please stop this. You have to turn yourself in.”
But his resolve was shaky. Jaeyun knew that he would still be booked once they found his prints at the scene, and there was no telling what you would do to protect yourself. By now, Jaeyun wouldn’t have been surprised if you somehow pushed the crime onto him. 
“Jae, listen to me,” you insisted. Your eyes were wide and brimming with tears, and Jaeyun couldn’t help but think you looked a little crazed. “We can both get out of this, but you have to help me out here. We’re gonna tell them that Jongseong killed Sunghoon before we got here, and then he chased us until we ended up stabbing him out of self-defense. I mean, that’s all this was, anyway! It was self-defense!”
A distant part of Jaeyun’s mind wondered what happened to you. He wondered if you had always been this way, perhaps keeping it tucked away. In the end, you were still trying to protect Sunghoon in your own way. You were still trying to protect some fragment of his golden image.
“It’s you and me,” you whispered, kneeling down by your boyfriend’s side until you were cupping his face with your hands, staining his cheeks with Jongseong’s blood, “the two of us against the world.”
Just hours ago, Sim Jaeyun looked at you like you were his entire world.
And now, with your bloodstained hands holding his face, there was unmistakable fear behind his eyes as he looked up at you.
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AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so so much for reading if you made it all the way to the end !! i would lovee for you to guys to share what you thought, but just to point a few things out, jake's pov was the unfiltered version of what went down that night. the dialogue from mc is similar to jongseong's because while she painted him out to be the villain in the end to protect sunghoon, it was really her who said those things. originally this had a happier ending but i'm a lot more satisifed with this one actually. i hope you guys liked it !! <3 also i am deciding against using my permanent tag list this time because i haven't used it in a year and don't know if anyone exactly signed up to read horror 🧎‍♀️
#i have so much to say for this fic this is so hauntingly good and have me feeling like submerge into this story & felt like i was part of it#second of all whoever put this up on my dash i hope u have a wonderful day this fic just change the trajectory of my life#THE CHILLS???? THE BATED BREATH I TAKE BC OF THE FLOW OF THE STORY#The characterization is INSANE and PERFECT i love it so much#jaehyun's words hits like a truck when he told us about ppl thinking they could just shoot as they please because its bulletproof#IM SO INSANELY INVESTED ABOUT THIS#THE PLOT TWIST????? AMAZING WONDERFUL#the way i felt all the emotions and it resonated with me i ACTUALLY felt the confusion of feelings for sunghoon and jake#the way I ACTUALLY felt sunghoons emotions and sinister aura just through the words is beyond me & i mean this in the most positive way /pos#the shock & immediate response about the deaths?? INSANE#the spiralling down of the reader itself has been conveyor so astonishingly#jaehyuns realization & fear about the reader his compliance and the confliction of his values and feelings really did shaken me also#you wrote each members so well how a lil bit of their mannerisms were picked up in the story and the cohesiveness of it untill the very end#THISS IS ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING FIC I HAVE EVER READ HERE#the reader is a smart one on this#the way the reader has picked up on sunghoons words habits thinking the way she slowly emerge herself from that same darkness sunghoon had#i felt so sos os sad about jungwon ive actually cried tears and mourn for him#the way thus is all so twisted and fucked up just makes sense in my brain#DARE I SAY ONE OF TEH MOST AMAZIBG FIC HERE THANK YOU SO MUCH DEAR AUTHOR FOR WRITING THIS AMAZING FIC I JOPE YOU HAVE AMZINH DAY#“us against the world yeah?”#will forever haunt me + u have just change this sentence for me and everytime i hear it or read i will always think about this fic#the way i gasped#with everything and my hands was really on my mouth THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL & WONDERFUL#RECOMMENDING TO EVERYONE!!! YALL SHOULD READ THIS MASTERPIECE#sunghoon x reader#jake x reader#jay x reader#enhypen x reader#꒰ recs ꒱
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sundial-girl · 13 days ago
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idk if its like just a glitch or some feature that tumblr is secretly trying to roll out or sm shit but sometimes when i refresh my dash on desktop i start getting random blog posts show up
and i KNOW i dont follow these people/tags for a fact so i start panicking refreshing trying to get rid of them. WHY are some of you on my dash i do not KNOW yall I SPECIFICALLY FOLLOW LIKE LESS THAN 100 PEOPLE & 5 TAGS FOR THIS REASON GO AWAYYYY. HISSSS
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singmyaubade · 2 months ago
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the greatest heist
james potter x female!reader
summary: when james's girlfriend decides to fuck with you, your only other choice is to fuck with her.
warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, wearing, jealousy
a/n: my bad for taking so long.. enjoy & as always, i apologize if you hate this!
part 1 | part 2
SITTING in the Hospital Wing for the rest of your glamorous night was certainly not on your bucket list for the year.
You couldn't believe that while your friends were most likely on their next shot of Firewhiskey, there you were, sitting with an ice pack on your ankle and a yellow, now turning purple, bruise resting below it.
The scowl on your face couldn’t be more defined before a gentle squeeze on your forearm snapped you out of your angered thoughts.
A sweet, warm James sat beside you, his comforting smile as kind as ever. You gave him a shy smile in return, reluctant to admit that his presence made you feel just a little bit better.
"You know, you don’t have to stay here," You said, voice soft but sincere. "You don’t have to stay out of pity for me while the rest of our friends are probably on their fourth round of Truth or Dare." You snorted, trying to make light of it.
James lightly laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "I wanna be here," He replied sweetly, making your heart swell despite yourself. "I mean, I am partly to blame for your injury."
You snickered, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, your vicious twirling of me is definitely what did it."
He yawned dramatically. "Yeah, I’m so strong," He flexed one arm with exaggerated pride, earning a laugh from you as you playfully swatted at him.
"Well, dearie!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, appearing suddenly from the patient beside you. "It seems it’s just a deep bruise—nothing a bit of Bruisewart Balm won’t fix," She stated, handing you the small jar of balm. "I’d recommend taking it easy on your feet for a day or two, but nothing too strenuous."
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," You smiled as she nodded and moved on to her next patient.
"And to prevent more bruising," Pomfrey added with a sly smile, "I’d recommend staying away from Mr. Potter over here."
James frowned. "Oh Pops, how you wound me!" He said dramatically, making Pomfrey roll her eyes and walk away.
The tension in the room lifted, but as James turned back to you, the air between you two shifted. You met his gaze, and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how the dim light of the Hospital Wing made them look even more intense. You felt your heart race in your chest as he cleared his throat.
"Well, it seems like you won’t need to stay overnight," James said, a little too casually, his voice softer than usual. "May I help you hop back to your dorm m'lady?" His hand extended out for you.
You blinked at him, a little surprised at his suggestion. "What a gentleman," You mocked, though your voice was lighthearted as he helped you carefully get to your feet, his hand steady at your waist and the small of your back.
You both started down the hallway, his support a comforting presence as you tried to regain your balance on your injured ankle.
"You know Emma’s going to kill me, right?" You said with a dry chuckle.
James huffed in response, his arm still around you. "She’s really not as deadly as you all make her out to be," he said lightly.
You scoffed, shaking your head. "I think there’s a reason all the girls in sixth year have stayed away from you, and it isn’t because of your looks or personality."
James laughed, but there was a tinge of embarrassment in his eyes. "Well, she’s just really protective, you know?" He helped you adjust your step as you hopped slightly, trying to stay balanced. "She cares about me."
You raised an eyebrow. 'Protective doesn’t mean bat-shit crazy,' You thought to yourself.
"But I am sorry for how she’s been treating you," James continued, his voice turning a little more serious. "We broke up over it, you know?"
You didn’t know how to respond. You’d heard they’d had a fight, but you hadn’t realized it had escalated to that point.
"Over me?" you asked, a little surprised.
"Yeah," He nodded, his voice almost sheepish. "I know we haven’t talked much in the last couple of years, but you’ve always meant a lot to me, you know? So, when she gave me that choice—you or her—I thought it was a load of bollocks, but in the end, I think it was what we both needed. To take a step back, I mean."
You felt your stomach twist at his words. You knew their relationship had always been complicated, but hearing it from him like this was not what you had expected.
"And how did she take that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.
James’s face softened, but there was a faint trace of sadness in his expression. "She yelled. Cursed me out for a bit, slammed the door, and I haven’t seen her since."
You nodded, processing his words. You hoped to feel happy and to be excited, but you only felt sadness for James. Despite your dislike for Emma, he had seemed to actually enjoy her presence.
And all you ever wanted for James was for him to be happy even if it meant the literal Anti-christ being his girlfriend.
"Well," You said quietly, "I'm sorry to hear that."
James looked over at you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Thanks."
The silence stretched between you two as you hobbled along the corridor. You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and something about it made your heart beat a little faster.
"Can I ask you something?" You ventured, glancing up at him.
"Anything," James replied, his voice sincere.
"Why didn’t you ever... you know, talk to me about this before? You’ve been kind of distant, and—" You cut yourself off, not wanting to sound too accusatory.
James gave a small, rueful chuckle. "Guess I was just stupid, huh?" He looked over at you, his expression thoughtful. "I always figured things would work themselves out, and we would get closer in the future. But maybe I was wrong or just scared of Emma." He lightly laughed.
You didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet for a moment, your mind racing. The conversation felt like it was drifting toward a place you weren’t sure you were ready for, but at the same time, a part of you felt like you needed the conversation.
As you approached the Gryffindor Tower entrance, you could see the Fat Lady’s portrait in the distance, and the familiar weight of the evening was starting to settle back into place.
"This is me," You said, trying to keep your tone light as you stopped in front of the portrait.
"Yeah," James replied softly, a bit quieter now like he didn’t want the moment to end. "But, you know, if you ever need anything—"
"I know where to find you," You said, a teasing smile playing on your lips.
James looked at you for a long moment, and for just a beat, it felt like everything between you two shifted again. His eyes were intense, but there was something more in them now, something that made your heart flutter.
"Yeah," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "You do."
You turned toward the Fat Lady, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. You gave her the password, and as the portrait swung open, you took a last glance at James.
"Night, James," You said, your voice soft.
"Goodnight," he replied, his gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside.
And for a brief moment, you couldn’t help but wonder, maybe there was more to your friendship than you’d ever realized.
--
"He said what?!" Dorcas yelled excitedly, her voice carrying across the otherwise quiet Great Hall. You quickly shushed her, eyes darting around the room to make sure no one was watching. It was way too early for this kind of drama.
You had both decided to wake up an hour earlier than all the other girls for two very important reasons: 1) You didn’t trust Emma, and 2) You really didn’t trust Emma.
A few third-years glanced up from their breakfast, clearly curious about the outburst. You snorted, trying to hide your smile as you took another bite of toast.
"And what did you say?" Dorcas asked, her eyes practically sparkling with curiosity.
"Nothing," You muttered, refusing to meet her gaze as you stared off into the distance.
"What do you mean you said nothing?!" She questioned loudly, banging her hand against the table with enough force to rattle your plate.
You grabbed her hands quickly, trying to calm her down. "Stop doing that!" You whispered, sending apologetic glances to the third-years who were now staring openly at you.
"I just mean you had a perfect opportunity to get back at Emma, get Potter on your side, and you said nothing?!" Dorcas exclaimed, her voice rising with the excitement of her accusation.
You sighed, guilt twisting in your stomach. "I can’t do that to him, Dorc," You said quietly.
She stared at you for a long moment, clearly processing your words. There was a flash of realization in her eyes before she grinned, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You like him!"
You felt your face heat up as you rolled your eyes. "I do not."
"You do," She sang, drawing out the words like she was taunting a child.
"I do not," You said firmly, refusing to let her win.
"But you do—"
"I do not!" You interrupted, suddenly shouting, not even bothering to care about the third years who were now openly staring at you.
Dorcas smirked in victory. "Yeah, sure you don’t."
You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "This can’t be happening to me. It’s been one day since the plan was made!" You whined, half-exasperated, half-amused.
Dorcas gently pried your hands away from your face, her fingers rubbing soothing circles into your knuckles. "You can’t just hold your feelings in. If you like Potter, then so what?" She said gently, trying to comfort you. "Better than that evil witch."
You snorted at that. "I can't, Dorcas. I refuse to like someone who has the craziest ex-girlfriend in all of girlfriend history."
She sighed dramatically, looking at you as if you were the most difficult person in the world. "So what’s your master plan now, huh? Avoid him forever?"
You put on a fake, thoughtful face. "Avoid him," You pondered with a smile. "It’s the only option. Great idea, Dorc!"
Dorcas huffed, shaking her head as she took her hands away from yours. "Yeah, maybe just avoid him," She muttered, clearly not sold on your brilliant plan.
You laughed and stabbed a fork into your eggs. "Exactly."
Before Dorcas could reply, a voice slid in beside her, smooth and familiar. "Isn’t it the prettiest ladies I’ve had the honor of seeing as I awake?" Sirius Black drawled, grinning widely. Dorcas immediately shot him a disgusted look, scooting a few inches away from him.
"What do you want, Black?" You asked, already annoyed before he could even open his mouth again.
"Why do you treat me so horribly when I just want your love?" Sirius exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest as if you had wounded him deeply.
You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his antics.
"Are all of the Marauders this dramatic?" Dorcas asked, still eyeing Sirius in distaste.
"Believe it or not, yes," You confirmed, just as someone slid into the seat beside you.
"Good morning," James Potter greeted, flashing you that same sweet smile you had trouble getting out of your head.
You immediately felt a flutter in your chest. Your throat seemed to dry up as you turned to look at him. He looked radiant this morning—like the sun itself had decided to take residence in his smile.
You gulped, your brain scrambling for words. You quickly glanced at Dorcas, who gave you a subtle shake of her head, silently telling you not to do anything rash.
"Morning!" you rushed out, way too eager. You quickly gathered your things, mentally panicking. "I actually have to go study in the library for a while, so I’m just gonna go ahead." You stood quickly, trying to make your escape.
James stood up with you, looking at you with those shining eyes. "I can come with," He offered cheerfully, clearly not reading the room at all.
You shook your head rapidly, desperate to escape the conversation. "No, no! I’ll be fine!" you said a little too quickly, almost tripping over your own feet as you backed away. "I’ll just see you later."
James and Sirius exchanged a curious glance as you rushed off. You breathed a sigh of relief the moment you stepped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.
Finally, peace and quiet.
But then you heard footsteps behind you. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James Potter jogging to catch up.
"Hey!" He called out, clearly not bothered by your earlier panic. "I decided to come with you since I’ve got nothing to do. Figured we could walk to class together after studying." He said it so cheerfully as if you hadn’t just escaped from his company a few moments ago.
You blinked, speechless. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. You didn’t think it would be this hard to get James Potter off your back.
He matched your pace, the two of you walking side by side in the silence that felt anything but comfortable.
And you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if your life had just become infinitely more complicated than you had planned.
"So, what did you need to study?" James asked, his hands casually tucked into his pockets as he looked at you with that easygoing grin of his.
You quickly scrambled for an answer, the pressure of his gaze making your mind race. "Astronomy!" You replied a bit too quickly, the excitement in your voice betraying your nerves.
"But you've always been good at Astronomy," James raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical as he studied you closely.
You tried to shrug it off, but your voice betrayed you. "I'm afraid the subject's been slowly slipping from me," You said, forcing a smile.
His face softened, the skepticism fading into a more understanding look. "Yeah, Professor Sinistra does tend to move quickly," He said, nodding in agreement. "I even tried to cast a time-slowing spell on her once just to get down all my notes."
You laughed, the image of James trying (and likely failing) to slow down the Professor amusing. "And what did you get in return?" you asked, a teasing grin playing on your lips.
"Two weeks of detention," He said, smirking as if the whole thing was just a funny memory. "Totally worth it though."
You giggled, the sound feeling lighter in your chest. "Of course it was."
You both walked in silence next to each other, making your way towards the library. You were glad that the silence was comfortable but a part of you still thought avoiding James was the best plan.
You went to sit at a table before James rushed over to you, pulling your chair out for you as you rolled your eyes, "Do you just want me to keep calling you a gentleman?"
"A bit," He shrugged as he sat down across from you.
You opened your textbook for Astronomy, actually deciding to do work since you were there anyways.
You noticed James making paper planes and attempting to get them to fly over your head. By the fourth one, it hit you square in the forehead, and you let out a dramatic sigh.
"Do you need me to give you a task?" You asked, eyeing him with a look that could only be described as 'toddler supervision.'
James rested his head on his palm, his gaze staring off into space. "I just think there are more exciting things we could be doing right now," He replied with a bored sigh.
"Like what?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and offering him a light smile.
He thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up with mischief. "I could teach you how to play Quidditch!"
You almost felt sick just hearing the words. You shook your head furiously. "I don't know about that," You said, looking back down at your textbook as if you could will the conversation away.
James grabbed your hand in an exaggerated plea. "Come on, it'll be fun!" He cheered, his enthusiasm making you laugh, but before you could say anything else, the librarian shushed him with a fierce look.
You giggled quietly, "Sorry, James, no," You said firmly, scribbling some notes in your textbook.
James pouted dramatically, laying his head down on the desk in defeat. You studied him for a few moments as he huffed, like a child who hadn't gotten his way.
You rolled your eyes, unable to resist the pull of his antics. "I'm not falling for this."
He continued to pout, his face scrunched in exaggerated misery. He pretended to sniffle dramatically, looking up at you with his big hazel eyes.
"No, James, I mean it," You said, trying to keep your tone firm, but the warmth in your voice betrayed you.
--
And next thing you knew, you were on the Quidditch field.
You yelped loudly as you clung to James’s waist, the wind rushing in your face as he zoomed higher into the sky. "We haven't even made it into the air yet!" James laughed excitedly, clearly having the time of his life as you panicked.
"This is still really high!" You cried out, your grip tightening around him. You dared a glance down and saw the ground growing smaller and more distant by the second.
"Close your eyes, I’ve got you!" James shouted reassuringly, though it still sounded somehow delicate, soothing you.
With a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped him even tighter. The wind whipped around you, but James’s steady hold kept you grounded—physically, at least. When you opened your eyes, the sensation of rising fast into the air filled you with a mix of excitement and dread.
James cheered as you both soared, flipping through the air and spiraling in wide, dizzying motions. You screamed, the wind filling your lungs with cold, sharp air.
But then, as if sensing your panic, James calmed things down, steering the broom to glide slowly over the Black Lake.
You exhaled a long breath, your heart rate slowing as you took in the view. From this height, the lake looked more beautiful than you'd ever seen it before, its surface sparkling in the early morning light.
You rested your cheek against his back, staring down at the glistening water below. "This is really pretty," You murmured, surprised at how peaceful it felt up here.
James chuckled lightly. "It's one of my favorite things to look at when I ride." He smiled, but you could feel his warmth, even through the rush of wind. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back with a grin that seemed to make your heart skip a beat.
"Is this where you disappear to during Quidditch games when you're supposed to be looking for the snitch?" You joked, a teasing lilt in your voice.
James's eyes widened dramatically. "You've figured me out!" he yelled, a laugh bursting from him before he abruptly swerved the broom again, causing you both to spiral upward with another whoosh of wind.
You screamed as you were whipped through the air, but James’s laughter was all you could hear. He cheered as the wind carried you higher, and you couldn’t help but laugh, even as you felt the thrill and panic collide inside you.
Seeing James so excited, gliding through the air, eased most of your fear. His laughter, the way he moved so effortlessly—it was impossible not to feel lighter in his presence.
You hadn’t realized until now how much you wanted to see someone smile like that, so carefree and alive. His joy was infectious, and it made you feel like maybe you were starting to enjoy this too.
James’s grin widened when he saw the way you were watching him. “See? Told you it’s fun up here,” he said, his voice full of that same infectious enthusiasm. He spun the broom gently, making you feel the rush of wind again, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.
You met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it’s amazing up here,” You admitted.
James’s smile softened as he gently lowered both of you to the ground. You carefully dismounted the broom, your legs still a little shaky from the ride.
As James went to put the broom back in its rightful place, you glanced at your watch—(yes, you had actually bought one)—and your heart dropped. "Shit! James, we’re going to be late!" You yelled, rushing toward him.
He immediately sprinted over as you tossed his bag at him with a hurried "Sorry!" You grabbed yours, slinging it over your shoulder before running up the stairs.
After what felt like an eternity of climbing, you stopped at the first landing to catch your breath.
James huffed, leaning on the railing. "Maybe we should just skip," He suggested, looking at you with a mischievous glint.
You shot him a death glare as the stairs shifted back into place, urging him to hurry. "Not an option, Potter!"
You both barely made it to class, arriving two minutes late. Professor Adair gave you both a disappointed look and gestured to the empty seats in the front. The entire class seemed to turn toward you, exchanging curious glances.
James leaned over and whispered, "Hey, you did great today."
You flushed, feeling a little flustered. "Thanks," You mumbled, half of you still recovering from the flying.
"Think I can have a spot on the team?" You asked, grinning at him.
James grinned back. "Oh, for sure. Your flying skills are impeccable," He said, his tone light and teasing.
"Be careful, Potter. I might take your spot as Seeker." You nudged him, half-joking, but his hand squeezed your thigh lightly in response.
You were about to respond when you saw your friends walking toward you, with Emma trailing behind them. The glare she shot you could've melted stone, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of unease.
"And why were you two late?" Lily asked, her voice mock-stern.
"Well, Mom, we were out flying," James said with a dramatic pout, making you laugh.
Lily looked at you, wide-eyed. "You went flying?"
"How did you make her do that?" Remus asked, half-sitting on his chair in front of you as Sirius snored, head resting on his shoulder.
"I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Y/N jump ," Marlene chimed in, snickering.
You shot her a look, but the corner of your lips twitched. "It was a one-time thing."
"Oh, yeah?" James smirked, nudging you with his shoulder. "I think there’s still more flying to do," He teased, and you giggled.
Your friends exchanged suspicious glances, but Emma’s sour expression cut through the moment. She stepped forward, eyes fixed on James, her voice syrupy sweet. "Well, we’re thinking about going to Hogsmeade tonight," she said, ignoring you completely.
"Sounds fun," You said casually, but Emma’s smile faltered slightly.
Sirius yawned, not looking up from where he was practically asleep on Remus’s shoulder. "So, are you two in?"
James looked at you with a grin. "If M’lady is."
"Sure, why not?" You responded lightly.
Emma looked like she was about to cast the Killing Curse right there, but she held it together, forcing a fake smile. "Great, it’s a date," She said, her eyes burning into you.
You had a feeling that tonight was going to be very interesting.
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bratbby333 · 11 months ago
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gamer!bf sukuna drabble
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·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·
gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something
gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner
gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)
gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)
"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"
gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)
gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset
"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard
"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"
gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming
"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"
gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)
he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...
gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)
gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms
"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."
gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go
"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"
gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first
gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat
"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"
gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game
"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎
i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here
thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡
© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.
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reiderwriter · 1 year ago
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505
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Week Four of my yearly playlist challenge!
Summary: When you fall asleep on the overnight drive between one case and the next, Spencer gets awfully distracted by your sleep talking.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Partial Spencer POV, dom!Spencer, brat!Reader, pain play (scratching, choking, spanking, etc), degradation (use of whore, slut), masturbation (m and f), orgasm denial, breeding kink, creampie, cockwarming.
A/N; Thank you to the Arctic Monkeys for fuelling my delusions and for gif makers everywhere for their services to horniness. This was the first playlist fic chosen from a recommended song, so if you enjoyed it, don't forget to send me more song recommendations for the playlist!~
Masterlist || Playlist
Spencer was never the most confident driver in the BAU, but between the two of you, he was the only one who possessed a licence. 
Which is how he found himself driving through the night with you asleep in his passenger seat, trying not to be distracted by the small whimpers and sighs dropping from your mouth. 
You'd been sent across state lines to investigate a recent homicide that may have been linked with your current case, and now that you'd deemed it relevant to your case, you were driving back to the rest of the team with all the documents you needed in tow. 
He'd been happy to drive when you left, with the sky black and the air cold, knowing that the country roads that would lead you just over the border would be practically empty. He'd even been content to let you sleep the majority of the journey, having noticed how little sleep you'd managed to get so far on this case. 
He'd been happy until your lips parted and you'd whispered his name in a moan. 
He'd thought you were awake at that moment and assumed you were about to ask where you were or what time it was. But you hadn't opened your eyes, and your breaths were still even and steady. 
You did it again five minutes later, and the gentle sound hit the hairs on the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine that settled comfortably in his now tight pants. 
‘Shit,’ he thought, sparing a glance at you whilst keeping his hands comfortable at 10 and 2, his posture rigid as he willed other parts of his body to relax. 
Your legs had splayed open, your hand having fallen unconsciously between them for some kind of relief. He didn't let his thoughts linger where his eyes had fallen. 
He tried to convince himself that you were just dreaming about a case. Maybe he'd been shot in your dream, and you'd felt sad. Maybe your moans were ones of sorrow. 
“Spencer, fuck…”
Maybe he was going to hell for the thoughts flooding his brain because he wanted nothing more than to slide a hand into your pants and start giving you the relief you so blatantly begged for. 
He settled for turning into the next motel he saw advertised on the road. Hotch had told them, of course, that they could rest up for the night if needed, but he'd been too eager to get on the road while it was clear. But with his mind fogged with less than ideal thoughts, and your obviously aching body moaning beside him, a motel honestly couldn't hurt. 
You woke up slowly as he parked the car, the lack of motion wearily drawing you from your dream. He looked across at you and let out a sigh of relief to see you conscious. 
He'd been willing to carry you to whatever room you'd get, but he didn't know whether his hands would linger over your body. Wouldn't know if he'd be able to retract his hands at all if you reacted like that in your sleep. 
Now you were awake and looking at him, talking to him even, but all he could think about was whether you'd react better to his touch when awake. How could he get you to moan his name again, and how loud would you dare do it?
“Spence? Hello, are you listening?”
“What?” 
“Okay, I'm glad you pulled off the road if you're so tired you're not even hearing me speak,” you laughed a little, and the sound shot straight to his cock. 
Your voice was thick with sleep, and the phantom of his name hung on your lips, having been the last words to drop from your tongue. He usually had better control of himself. 
“Yeah, let's go get some sleep. You sounded pretty tired, too.” 
“Sounded?” You asked, and he watched your face warp in gentle confusion. He bit his tongue, trying to retract the statement, choosing the cold, biting winter air over the sight of you with a pout on your lips. 
His brain was addled with thoughts of those two plump cushions pouting around his cock as he held your hair back and- and yes, the cold air was definitely necessary. 
“You stretch your legs, I'll go organise the room,” you said, climbing out of your side of the car. He nodded along, not trusting his voice not to break like a prepubescent boy and turning his back to you, not trusting his eyes to linger awkwardly on your ass. 
It seemed like seconds, and then you were back leading him to the rooms you'd booked. 
When you unlocked only one door, with only one key, however, Spencer found all the progress of the last few minutes squashed immediately. 
“We're sharing?” He hung around the door, not sure whether to step inside or just resign himself to sleeping in the car. He made a mental note to grab some tissues before heading back out to the car if this conversation ended the way he thought it would. 
“Yeah, they only had one room cleaned and ready right now. It's fine, right? We've shared rooms on cases before.” 
You’d shared rooms on cases before, but never after he'd driven for nearly a half hour listening to you moan his name. He'd usually been too exhausted after full days of work and had regrettably fallen asleep first each time you'd been roommates. 
“Yeah, it's cool.” He cleared his throat, trying to make the octave jump his voice had just made it seem like a symptom of some kind of sickness he was coming down with. 
“Great, let me just go shower quickly, and then we can get into bed.” 
Warnings signals rang throughout his head, but he still sat patiently listening to the water running in the shitty motel bathroom. Grabbing his go bag, he readied himself for sleep, trying to ignore the fact that you were hot and wet and naked just a wall away and that he could hear everything. 
Every sigh you released, every trickle of water running across your skin. Every mumble of his name. 
Again, he thought he'd imagined it, but now he was sure you were torturing him. 
Your gasps of air were less innocent than they were four minutes ago, chest having faster and faster, and he thought it was clear that your hand covered your mouth to make you less audible. He didn't know what you were doing, but it didn't matter much to his cock, which had stiffened painfully once again. Unconsciously, his hand reached for it, needing to give himself some release. He'd already pulled off his slacks and put on his baggier sleep pants, which did nothing to hide his affliction. 
Instead, it was somehow more obvious, painfully so. And his hand was pawing at it through the thin material, chasing that high that you yourself were likely close to in the bathroom. 
It was only when the shower shut off once more that he realised how fogged his brain had been. His cock throbbed in his hand, and it certainly wasn't going down anytime soon, and you'd be out of the bathroom in minutes if not seconds. 
With no other choice, he dived under the bed sheets and pulled them up across his chest, too, and began to pretend to sleep. 
When the light spilt from the bathroom, he screwed his eyes shut tighter, even as his brain willed him to sneak a look at you. 
But he held firm, telling himself that he just needed to wait for you to fall asleep and then he'd relieve himself. 
At least those were his plans until he felt the dip in the bed, the movement of his sheets, and the warmth spreading across the bed from you to him. 
You'd climbed into bed right next to him. Your ass was mere centimetres away from his crotch, and he shuddered in pleasure. Shuddered. 
He tried to keep his breathing still, even, and he really thought after a few minutes that you too had fallen asleep. It was all but impossible as your body cuddled in closer to his and he found your ass pressed comfortably against his straining cock. 
“Y/N, you need to move,” he warned, breath shooting out of him as he resisted digging his hands into your breasts and holding you tight so you couldn't move. 
“I don't want to,” you replied sleepily, either not noticing the danger you were in or not caring. 
His hands rested on your hips, trying to press you just slightly away so his own hips could scoot back, but you clung to his heat. 
“It's cold in here, Spencer, and you're like a furnace right now.” With those pouty words, you turned your body around and wrapped your hips up and around his body. He scooted back as you did, though, just an inch too far, and instead of landing softly against his chest, the two of you landed in a tangled mess on the floor. 
“Spencer,” you moaned again, this time in shock, as you perhaps finally felt his aching length poking the inside of your thigh. 
He'd dampened your fall on the way down, clasping you to him as he flailed in the air for a few seconds, bringing his downfall on faster with your ass cupped in his palms. 
“Fuck, Spencer, you're so hard.” His dick twitched at the sound of your tired voice pressed against his ear. 
You pulled away slowly, head peeking down between you, trying to catch a glimpse of his still hardening cock between the two of you. 
“Don't look, it'll get harder,” he grunted, grasping your hips harder and trying to catch your attention again. But that just had you grinding down into his hips again, and your mouth widened in that perfect ‘o’ as you felt the desperation and need drip from him. 
“Spencer,” you said, hips reacting slowly at first as they kept up the small movements of pressing down on him and lifting your hips slightly to do so again. 
You were grinding your cunt into his hard cock, pinning him to the ground and using his body to get yourself off. 
It was the most deliriously arousing thing he'd ever born witness to. 
“Y/N, stop it before you regret it.” His tone was a warning, but his words came out at barely a whisper. You didn't even bother with a reply. 
“Y/N, please I mean it-” 
“Spencer, fuck-” you moaned for the last time before he pushed you to the ground and pressed his lips against yours. 
He'd hit his limit, and now he was going to reach his reward. 
He ran his hands up to the waistband of your sleep shorts and quickly tugged them down, lips not leaving yours as he forced his tongue into your mouth. Your moans were throaty now, and they were loud, your brain so delirious with just you'd completely bypassed any shy feelings. 
After making quick work of your pants, he grabbed your hand in his and moved it over his throbbing cock, showing you what it was you needed from him. 
“Stroke it.” 
You did. Sliding a hand into his pants, you gripped him firmly in your hand and gently ran your fingers up and down his tip, more teasing than anything solid. 
Spencer didn't complain, though, knowing he wouldn't last that long if you took your job as seriously as he was about to take his. 
“Spread your legs. Now.” 
You weren't sure what it was about his tone, but you complied easily. His fingers reached out, and he almost sent up a prayer as his fingers came into contact with your wet, heat. You were so aroused. 
“Did you dream about me? Earlier in the car?” He questioned, two fingers slipping easily inside your pussy as his thumb traced your clit.
“Y-Yes.” 
“Did you think about me in the shower?” 
“Spencer, I can expl-” 
“Answer me. Please.” 
“Yes.” 
“You were touching yourself thinking about me, knowing I could hear just how much of a slut you were through these walls. You wanted this, Y/N.” 
He increased his pace as your eyes clouded over, your already sleepy countenance looking decidedly more ready for release and rest. 
But he wasn't in a giving mood. 
“What an impolite little whore,” he whispered in your ear, withdrawing his hands completely and picking himself up from the floor. 
Your eyes shot open in confusion and pain as he sat himself on the edge of the bed. You watched his movements, saw him pull his still erect cock from his pants and begin stroking himself, and quickly organised your limps into a kneeling position by his feet. 
He watched you closely as you let your head fall onto his thigh, your eyes following each pump of his hand up and down, and up and down. 
“Spencer, please fuck me,” you pleaded with him, trying to resist the temptation to wrap your legs around his and hump his leg like a real bitch in heat. Though he'd probably greatly enjoy the view. 
“Why should I?” 
“Because if you don't, I'm going to sit here and finger myself until I pass out from exhaustion. And then I'm going to request a room with you on every other case this year and do it all over again.” 
“You're manipulative, you know that?” 
“I just know what I want, Spencer.” 
“Then come and take it.” 
Though he told you to come to him, it was his hand on your neck that guided you to your place in his lap. 
It was his hand on his cock that lined himself up with your cunt. It was his hips that snapped up into yours as he finally took you. 
But it was your lips that screamed his name as he fucked you roughly. 
Each thrust was most intense than the last, deeper, harder, faster.
You clawed at his hair, you bit his bottom lip when your mouths Mey again. You clawed your nails across his shoulders and back. 
He pressed you back into the mattress, and you wrapped your legs around him one more time, urging him to stay right there for the rest of the night. 
His hands found your breasts, and he grabbed them again, roughly.
It was finally too much, and, as he pinched down on your nipple hard to see that beautiful mix of pleasure and pain one more time, you came around his cock, heat spreading out of you in waves as your thighs twitched under the weight of sheathing him. 
“I'm going to cum, Y/N, I'm going to cum,” he dragged his teeth across your neck, whispering the words like a prayer. 
You couldn't reply, mouth so heavy with lust your tongue couldn't move if his wasn't forcing it. 
“I'm going to cum inside you,” he whispered again, his voice a growl of pleasure as your eyes shot open again. 
All you could do was moan his name as he painted your cunt white, pressing his entire weight down on you without a care in the world. 
You remained locked in that embrace for a long moment, your body tired and brain similarly diminished. Trusting him to take care of things, you let your eyes droop closed and let sleep consume you. 
Your last thought was on his weight still pressed into yours, and the fact that he was still yet to pull out of you and spill his well-placed seed.
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4unnyr0se · 8 months ago
Note
PLEASEEEE MATCHING WITH CAPTAINS ON TINDER WITH USHI AND KITA PLEASEEE IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES 🙁 FROM ONE AUTISTIC TO ANOTHER I AM BEGGING YOU
❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | wakatoshi ushijima and shinsuke kita
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warnings: timeskip! ushijima and kita, fem! reader size kink, protected sex, hayloft sex, unprotected sex, biting, marking, virgin! ushijima, soft dom! kita, spanking, rough sex, tendou mentioned, kind of dom reader for ushijima
MDNI | 18+ content
word count -> 2k
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Wakatoshi Ushijima | Loosing his virginity
Ushijima wasn’t a stranger to people talking about their sex lives around him. His face was so stoic and statuesque that no one could tell if he was uncomfortable listening to the subject. The topics spoken in his vicinity ranged from how big a woman’s breasts were to how someone lost their virginity. He had to admit, he was a bit more awkward around those conversations because he couldn’t relate. He was a 26-year-old virgin, while his teammates and rivals had no doubt lost their virginity years prior. Some people even lost their virginity in high school. How scandalous!
He had contacted Tendou, his closest friend from Shirtatorizawa, to hopefully give him advice on the subject. Tendou was shocked at first (and found this entire situation to be completely hilarious) but offered his advice anyway. He told Ushijima that losing your virginity doesn’t have to be a big deal, that it doesn’t have to be romantic or special. It’s just something that happens, and everyone is different. Tendou also recommended downloading Tinder, which is a very useful resource. “If you want sex with no strings attached, look no further.” his words rang in Ushijima’s ears, his thumb hovering directly over your profile. You seemed like a good match for him, but he didn’t really know what he wanted yet. 
Shrugging his shoulders, he slid right on your profile and was surprised when you matched with him. He had very clearly stated that he was a virgin in his biography (Why would he not? It was accurate), so that kind of deterred people from matching with him. You messaged him instantly, suggesting he visit your apartment sometime this week. Of course, he accepted; that was the whole reason why he was on that app. He had one concern, however. Ushijima was massive, bigger than any other man by a wide margin. Could you handle him?
“Shh,” gentle sounds left your lips as you covered your dripping core above Ushijima’s length, observing how it was practically twitching with want for you. “We don’t have to rush things, okay? I know it’s your first time, baby,” you kissed the side of his cheek tenderly, your nails dragging themselves up and down his muscular chest. “Just let me make you feel good.”
He could only nod as your lips touched his once more, biting on his swelling bottom lip playfully. His hands rested on your hips, kneading the flesh between his calloused fingers. His usual stoic face was flushed, lipstick marks adorning his chapped lips and thick neck. He impatiently squeezed your hips, not daring to open his mouth just yet. 
“Oh? Are you ready now, ‘Toshi?” you purred, breaking the kiss to lower yourself down even further. “You have to tell me if you want this, baby. Or else I won’t do it.”
“P-please,” Ushijima mumbled, his eyes staring intensely into yours. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed to feel you. He needed to know if the stories his teammates told him were true and if it felt like euphoria once he was inside you. Without giving you any warning, he thrust his hips upwards, pushing his pulsating shaft inside your sobbing core. “Sorry, couldn’t wait any longer. Fuck.”
“Shit!” you cried out, balancing yourself on his broad shoulders. “Y-you’re really fucking big. G-gimme a second, okay?” your breath was quick and shallow, your walls wrapping so perfectly around his huge cock. Was he really a virgin? There was no way in hell someone with that big of a dick was a virgin. After regaining your composure, your hips began to move up and down on his length, a wanton mewl escaping your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive place. 
“Go faster,” Ushijima demanded, gripping harder onto your hips. He wanted to take charge but had no experience in this department. What if he messed up? What if he hurt you? His left hand was the size of your entire ass, you were so fragile compared to him. “Wanna feel more of you.” He cracked his palm against your ass softly, massaging the stinging flesh soon afterward. 
You nodded, burying your blushing face in his neck. Your bruised lips peppered soft kisses on his skin as you continued to bounce up and down on his gigantic cock, his head brushing against your cervix so deliciously. All that could be heard in your apartment was the sensual sound of R&B music, your wanton cries of pleasure, and Ushijima’s occasional grunt or deep moan. He wasn’t very vocal, but he was close; he could feel his cock twitching inside of you, relishing in the sensation of your gummy walls, attempting to milk him for all he was worth. “I’m, fuck, I’m gonna cum soon. Feels fucking incredible.”
“D-d’ya wanna cum inside o-or on my tits?” you whimpered, feeling your own climax quickly approaching. He was just so fucking big, and his voice was so deep. Each word he spoke made your clit throb even harder. “P-please ‘Toshi!”
“Inside,” he demanded, bolding, leaning up to kiss you once more. The kiss was molten, full of fire and passion that he had so long oppressed. He groaned in your mouth as he felt you let go of your cock, feeling your body convulse around him. The sounds of your pathetic and fucked out mewls drove him over the edge, his cum painting the walls of your womb white. 
You broke the kiss and smiled at him, pulling yourself off of his cock with a pop! Ushijima groaned at the sight of his seed trickling down your thighs so beautifully, looking like a Renaissance painting. Was this the sensation his teammates were talking about earlier, was it this kind of beauty? 
“Was that a good first time?” you asked, snapping him out of his wandering thoughts. He nodded and got off the bed, dressing himself quickly. “Yes, I liked it. Thanks.” The faintest tinge of pink dusted his cheeks, his eyes not daring to meet yours. He knew that if he looked into your pretty eyes again, he would be included to stay, and he couldn’t risk getting distracted from volleyball. 
“You have my number if you ever want to, y’know, fuck again. You were really good for a virgin.” Was that a compliment or an insult? Ushijima couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both, he didn’t take it personally. He turned towards you, still not making eye contact. Fuck, you were so damn pretty. Was missing his practice tomorrow really worth it? Did he want to have you in his arms that badly? 
“Maybe I’ll give you a call some other time.”
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Shinsuke Kita | The florist
Kita loved the local farmers market. It was where he could sell his rice without worrying about the middleman. It was peaceful, seeing the mothers bring their children and pets. Seeing couples holding hands as they checked out the local food and drink vendors. This weekend, Kita wasn’t at his usual booth. He chose to browse instead, having turned an acceptable profit this month. There were stands that he had seen a million times before and one that was brand new. Fresh, the paint is not yet chipped off by children carelessly running into it. And it smelled beautiful, but that was no surprise. After all, it was a florist's booth.
He saw no one running the stand currently, maybe they were on break. Kita shrugged and took out his phone, opening Tinder to mindlessly swipe through it. It wasn’t an ideal pastime, but it beat standing around waiting for the floral stall owner to show up. 
You greeted him with a rushed hello, an embarrassed blush tinting your cheeks as you apologized for being away from the stand for so long. Before Kita could respond, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Opening the notification, you saw none other but the profile of the man standing before you, looking incredibly attractive. 
“You matched with me,” you blushed, holding your phone for Kita to see. He smiled softly, thinking it was adorable how you could barely make eye contact with him. 
“It appears I have.”
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“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so well, princess,” Kita purred against your lips, thrusting into you so gently Like you would break like you were made of glass. “Think you can take more of me, darling? I’m barely halfway inside that pretty pussy.”
Fuck, his voice made you squeeze around him even harder. Here you were, laying under him in a hayloft with your hands clawing desperately at his muscular back whilst he thrust inside of you so slowly, painfully slow. Was he trying to be a tease? Was making you squirm his kink? “J-just fuck me already! Don’t tease. It’s mean!” you whimpered in frustration, attempting to angle your hips in such a way that you could feel Kita deeper inside of your core. 
“I’m not trying to be mean, sweetness,” he chuckled against your lips, pecking them softly. They tasted like vanilla and roses, a pure scent that did not fit you being defiled in a hayloft. “Just don’t wanna be too rough with you, that’s all.” he squeezed your wrists, pinning them above your hand with just one of his hands. “But if a pretty girl like you wants me to go rough, I guess I have no choice.”
The atmosphere changed instantly as Kita slammed himself into you at full force, his length pistoning in and out of your sobbing core. Your pathetic and adorable sobs of pleasure filled the hayloft, the occasional beg and plead thrown in as Kita destroyed your insides with his cock. He was holding back, not wanting to break any barriers you had set up. But when you beg him in that angelic voice to fuck you, who is he to refuse a darling such as yourself?
“Is this any better, sweetheart?” Kita groaned against your neck, trailing kisses down the already bruised flesh until he reached that sweet spot just above your collarbone. His teeth just grazed the skin as he continued to practically slam into you, shaking the sensitive wood of the hayloft with each powerful thrust inside your drenched core. “Do you like it when I fuck you like this instead, hm?”
“Yes! Fuck, Kita! M’close, holy fuck! I’m so fucking close, please!” you sobbed into his shoulder, your nails leaving angry crescent imprints on his back in accompaniment with the array of feral red scratches. “Please, please, please! Lemme cum!”
Kita moaned at your desperate words, the cadence of your voice making his dick twitch deep inside of you. He was close to his climax as well, your mewls of pleasure making the sensations he was feeling all the more delicious. “Yeah, you wanna cum pretty girl? It’s okay, cum on my fucking cock. Fucking make a mess all over me.” he bit down harshly onto your collarbone, punctuating every other sentence fragment with a powerful thrust into your weeping cunt. He felt your gummy walls attempting to pull him impossibly deeper, your orgasm approaching incredibly fast.
Finally, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave of complete euphoria. You sobbed as your release coated his cock, almost sending Kita over the edge in tandem. Quickly, Kita pulled out of your throbbing core and frantically fisted his cock, quietly roaring as his hot and sticky ropes of white painted your stomach so beautifully. He stood above you for a moment, admiring how beautiful you were from his point of view. Shaking from your orgasm, covered in his mess. You looked so fucking perfect.
“That was incredible,” Kita smiled at you, sitting beside you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the teeth marks he had left earlier. “Do you feel good, sweetheart?” His tone was soft, gentle, and kind. He wanted to ensure you knew you would be cared for, even though you both accomplished what you wanted. 
“I feel amazing, thank you.” you smiled, resting your face on his exposed shoulder. Your eyes landed on the scratches and marks you left on his back, fingers tracing over them tenderly. “Uh, sorry about all of this. I’m not usually this rough.”
Kita kissed the top of your head and pulled you closer to his form, caging you in his muscular arms whilst he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 
“You have nothing to worry about, pretty girl.”
okay this ask was literally so sweet i love u nonnie
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svtiddiess · 3 months ago
Text
Nom Nom: The Gyutiddies
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Synopsis: You beg your boyfriend, Seungcheol, to let you bite Mingyu's tiddies, and he allows it under one condition: he gets to fuck you while you do.
Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader x Mingyu
Genre: smut, series, established relationship
Rating: mature
Word count: 1.3k
Warnings: pet names (princess, baby, daddy), biting and marking of tiddies, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), threesome(?), creampie, dom!Cheol, sub!reader, lemme know if I missed anything!
Note: This is part of a mini-series so it's highly recommended that you read part 1 and part 2 before reading this!
Thank you so much @miabebe for beta reading and making me giggle with your comments!
Tagging @brownsugarbaybee as usual! Enjoy baby.
As promised, tagging you wifey @soo0hee.
This is part of a series, read the whole series here!
Click here to join my taglist!
Read on ao3
Reblogs are appreciated ♡
.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ
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"Cheollie~," you whine for the hundredth time today, trailing him into the kitchen with a stomp of your foot and a childish pout. Seungcheol lets out a sigh, giving you a tired look.
"Princess, I said no," he says straight-faced.
You press up against his chest and look up at him with the best puppy eyes you could muster.
"Please?" You tilt your head for added effect.
"Princess, you are not biting Mingyu's chest," he huffs, rolling his eyes.
"Tiddies," you correct him with a pout. "And why not?" You whine, wrapping your arms around him.
"Because I’m your boyfriend? And I don't want you biting another man's tiddies?" He replies, raising an eyebrow as he pulls you close.
"But his tiddies look so big and biteable," you whine.
"I need to stop him from going to the gym every day," he grumbles.
"Don't you dare," you huff. "His tiddies are what I look forward to seeing most every day."
"And what about me?!" he scoffs, giving you an offended look.
"You're a very strong second."
He rolls his eyes and pushes his tongue against his cheek. You grin, knowing you're pushing his buttons.
"Daddy," you pout, fully aware of the effect that nickname has on him. "Please let me bite Mingyu’s tiddies."
He growls, grabbing your face and pulling you close.
"You wanna bite his tiddies, huh? Fine," he spits, "but on one condition."
"What is it?" you mumble through squished cheeks.
"I get to fuck you while you're biting his tiddies," he smirks.
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Mingyu glances up at you and Seungcheol, shifting awkwardly on the bed.
"So, uh… how are we doing this?" he asks.
"Lie against the headboard," orders Seungcheol. Following his instructions, Mingyu sits up and rests his back against the headboard.
"Take off your shirt Gyu," Seungcheol grumbles, rolling his eyes.
"R-Right," mutters Mingyu, blush dusting his cheeks. He quickly discards his shirt and leans back against the board.
You practically drool at the sight of Mingyu’s exposed torso. His muscles are well-defined, every hour spent in the gym showing in his lean build. His abs are visible, and his chest—oh, his chest—looks so plump and inviting.
You turn towards Seungcheol, awaiting his orders.
"Go ahead princess, have fun," he smirks.
You squeal and place a kiss on Seungcheol's cheek before climbing on top of Mingyu, adjusting your dress (that Seungcheol made you wear to prevent Mingyu from seeing what's 'his' when he's fucking you), and resting your hands on his broad shoulders.
Mingyu shivers under you as you place soft kisses on his chest. You smirk against his skin before sinking your teeth in, eliciting a gasp from him.
"Fuck," he mutters, tensing beneath your touch.
You start placing love bites on his right pec whilst using your hand to squeeze his left. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lip to prevent any sounds from escaping.
"Let her hear you, Gyu, my princess loves it when you moan in her ear," instructs Seungcheol.
At his words, Mingyu lets out a small whimper, pushing you to work harder. You start sucking his skin, blotches of red and purple appearing on his chest. Your hand drags down and pinches his left nipple, causing him to moan.
"Feels good, Gyu?" You look up at him and whisper.
"So good, baby," he gives you a lazy smile.
You grin at being called "baby", fully aware that Seungcheol would be ticked off by the nickname. You can’t see him, but you can definitely picture the frown on his face right now.
You go back to biting his chest, lips trailing down to his nipple and enveloping it, leading Mingyu to let out a string of curses.
"Mhm, just like that, baby," moans Mingyu when you start sucking on the bud. You could hear Seungcheol let out a growl behind you.
"Alright, time for me to get my end of the deal," grunts Seungcheol.
He lifts the ends of your dress just enough to expose your soaked panties to him.
"Dirty girl," he chuckles before placing two slaps on each of your thighs. You moan at the stinging sensation that prickles your skin.
"You're already dripping, princess," he hums as he rubs a finger over your clothed pussy, making you whimper.
"Daddy, please," you whine against Mingyu’s skin, hearing both him and Seungcheol chuckle.
"Such a needy princess," he grins as he slides your panties to the side and slowly inserts a finger into your needy hole. You moan, biting down harder on Mingyu’s chest, making him hiss in response.
You drag your tongue and teeth across Mingyu's chest, creating a slobbery mess all over him. Digging your nails into his shoulder, you let out a shaky whimper as Seungcheol inserts another finger and starts scissoring you, stretching you out for his cock.
Your lips trace over the base of Mingyu's neck, placing open-mouth kisses before sucking on the sensitive skin.
"Mhm, fuck baby," hums Mingyu as his hands sneak up to hold you by your waist.
"Don't fucking touch her," growls Seungcheol, making Mingyu chuckle.
"Someone’s gotta keep her steady," Mingyu says, flashing Seungcheol a smug grin.
Seungcheol grumbles as he unbuttons his pants and slips out his cock. He teasingly rubs his cock against your cunt, making you whine and buck your hips against him.
"If you stop marking him, I'll stop fucking you," he warns before slamming into you so hard that, if Mingyu weren’t holding you up, you’d have crashed right into him.
You scream out his name as he relentlessly thrusts into you, his pace animalistic. You rest your cheek against Mingyu, feeling your brain turn into mush.
"What did I say, princess?" he gruffs out and you moan and whimper against Mingyu's chest as you try your best to get back to your task of marking him.
You take one shaky bite after another as Seungcheol continues to pound into you. Mingyu tries to help by gently guiding your head, but you’re too far gone to think straight.
"I said fucking mark him, princess," growls out Seungcheol, grabbing your hips and thrusting in deeper. Your mouth goes agape and your eyes roll back when you feel his tip hit your cervix.
He lays a smack against your pussy, earning a choked sob from you. Waves of pleasure tingle through you, making your body go weak and jelly-like.
Your mouth latches onto Mingyu's nipple and starts sucking, making Mingyu moan. A particularly hard thrust made you bite down on his nipple harder than intended.
"Shit, fuck!" Mingyu cries out, eyes scrunching up. You hear Seungcheol let out a breathless chuckle behind you.
Tears run down your face as you try your best to continue marking Mingyu as Seungcheol relentlessly thrusts into you. Almost all of Mingyu’s chest is marked by now, a mess of tears, saliva, and bites.
"Daddy, I'm close," you whimper out, "please let me cum."
"Princess, wants to cum?" Seungcheol growls, sneaking his hand down to your clit and rubbing it in circles, "Go on then, cream all over my cock princess."
Your breath hitches, and you cum hard, making a mess all over Seungcheol's cock. You scratch your nails down Mingyu's chest, leaving angry red marks atop the love bites. Mingyu hisses and groans under you, taking pleasure in watching your face contort as you revel in the sensation.
Seungcheol cums after a few more thrusts, coating your insides with his seed. He lets out a groan as he pulls out and sees your mixed fluids leak out of your ruined hole. He gently fixes your panties, and you cringe at the feeling of it sticking to your skin.
He wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you off Mingyu and into his arms. Turning around, you press a kiss to his lips, smiling into it. He wipes away your tear-stained cheeks as he kisses you back.
"You okay, princess?" he murmurs against your lips. You nod and smile.
"Cheol, I’m hard," Mingyu whines, making you giggle as Seungcheol rolls his eyes.
"Go handle it in the guest bathroom," Seungcheol grumbles.
Mingyu pouts and heads off to deal with his "problem," muttering complaints under his breath as he goes.
You turn to Seungcheol with a playful grin.
"So… same time next week?" you tease.
"Don’t even think about it."
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Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite
@miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127
@sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo
@gyuhao365
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2truehearts · 1 year ago
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don’t. don’t talk to me i will break.
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𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈.
pairing. gepard landau x gn!reader cw. angst. hurt/no comfort. failed relationships. fluff to angst. passing mention of alcohol. marriage proposals. set after the events of the jarilo-vi trailblaze mission. author's note. this song destroys me every time i listen to it, soooo. if this fic ever sees the light of day, know that this stayed in the vault for terribly long. my debut solo geppie fic...! and its angst. whoopsies.
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despite the absence of the morning sun, belobog was glowing in anticipation in celebration for one of, if not the biggest event that the city would hold for the year.
the cityfolk were crowding around the central plaza of belobog, excitedly chatting away for the display of romance that they will be seeing in less than an hour as others continued to fix the decorations in the area. from a distance, the children were running amok near where the snacks were located just as their parents exasperatedly tried to get them to behave.
and you were in the middle of all that bustle, your grip snaked around the stem of your champagne glass and a faraway smile on your face at the sight of it all.
it was the wedding today. and it was everything you imagined and hoped it could be — and even more.
silks as white as belobog's snow proliferated every part of the venue, decorated with blue petals that you can only surmise as gepard's favorite flowers. the captain, no matter how much he enjoyed doing so, was terrible at gardening. the first time he told you about it, you had laughed in his face, watching as his ears turned red in embarrassment as he tried to hide his reaction.
how exactly did you and gepard meet? you hailed from the underworld, so your judgement about silvermane guards had been clouded. everything was scarce down in the underworld, thus, you did not exactly have the most fulfilling of lives in the past. natasha had been your parental figure since you were a child, but even the promise of her protection was not enough to hinder you from wanting to leave jarilo-vi.
when the fateful day had arrived, you remembered how your heartbeat quickened in pace as you raced up to the overworld — only to be greeted by the incarnation of the sun himself, just as how you remembered thinking when you first laid eyes on gepard.
he had been leading the silvermane guards in ensuring the smooth entry of the underworld citizens when the both of you locked eyes for a little too longer than a minute. needless to say, you were drawn to the captain of the silvermane guards against your own judgements.
and he was too, you knew that for sure.
you were dragged away from daydreaming too much just as someone bumped into you — a young girl, probably around the age of twelve, donned with two brown pigtails in her hair who shouted an apology to your direction (probably because she bumped into you), before she disappeared the other way. almost right after her, a young boy, the same age as her, was shouting for her to stop running, but you could see that unmistakable smile in that boy's face that you could probably assume as affection.
you could definitely forgive a little lover's chase.
your hands had been flipping through the parchments that supposedly included the map of the vast universe — or at least, only the planets existing in the data archives — that you had traded your credits for when you felt a pair of calloused hands wrap around your eyes.
“guess who?” you laughed, knowing very well that only one person in the world would dare to do this to you. “i know it’s you, gepard.”
your lover chuckled at the sound of his name, before you felt that small peck on your head and his fingers intertwining with your free hand as gepard took the seat adjacent to you. “what are you up to?”
your other hand had been preoccupied with tracing the path of nearby planets to jarilo-vi, the ripples in the paper creating the feeling of excitement as your finger brushed across the map. you could feel gepard’s eyes on you as you didn’t respond, only engrossed in what was right in front of you.
whether or not the captain seemed to mind that you didn’t answer him, gepard simply squeezed your hand in his, just as you could hear him move closer to you. “you got another map?”
“yup! who would have thought there were neighboring planets near us? if i could just save up enough credits… i’ll be off on the next ship away from this planet.” the prospect of escaping the planet had long allured you when you were child; quite inevitably, you still hadn’t lost sight of your goal to get away from your home planet, desperate to seek out another that wouldn’t let you down like jarilo-vi has.
gepard hummed amicably in your excitement, though you had half-expected that he’d share something else to your own musings, just like he always did. “is something on your mind, geppie?”
“no, no. everything’s fine." his words spoke with utmost reassurance, but the same reassurance didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. you could feel a pit of uncertainty in your stomach, but you didn’t know if it was right to push; so, you simply turned back to your map.
“one day, i’ll definitely fulfill my dreams and start my life the day i’m away from here!” you boasted in pride, just as you see your love stare at you with an expression that you could never quite comprehend that night.
you had downed your third champagne of the event, just as you absentmindedly set down the empty glass on the table where the rest of the food sat. you barely even caught a whiff of the roasted poultry, but your stomach already grumbled at the pristine sight of the delectable food enclosed inside the chafing dish.
even as you hear the silvermane guards curse about the lopsided flower decoration that looked like it was about to fall, even when you overheard that the officiant of the wedding seemed to be running late, everything still looked perfect.
and you could only assume that it was gepard’s own doing. he would want this day to be something to be remembered, after all.
you had been too engrossed in your latest reads that you hadn’t realized that it was an hour past midnight if it wasn’t for the multitude of buzzing notifications coming from your phone.
naturally, it came from your partner, with countless ones that asked where you were and if you had eaten. your stomach grumbled at the thought; clearly, you had not.
so there you were, dragging your feet as you hurriedly ran back home — the shared quarters that you shared with gepard. you had only moved in with him several months into your relationship which … took a lot of convincing from gepard’s part.
he really wanted to try living with you, he had pleaded. and you found it difficult to say no to him when he looked so excited about the promise of it all.
your hand twisted the handle of the door, trying to quietly enter so as not to wake gepard up. the lights were closed, so you had figured that he might have been asleep.
swinging the door open, you tiptoed your way into the place that gepard had referred to as the living room. your body was aching from running out in the rigid cold weather, so all you wanted was to sink yourself into the velvety couch, but you didn't expect to see gepard sprawled over in the couch, no doubt fast asleep.
right in front of him sat two plates of belobog sausage with a messy pile of rice. though one of the plates included a half-eaten sausage and barely any trace of the rice, the other remained untouched, almost as if it were waiting for someone.
you. gepard had been waiting to eat with you.
guilt crept up to you, as you took a bite of the food that he prepared for you. it was no longer warm, as you had anticipated — which only meant that he had been waiting for a while before you finally came home.
"hey, hey geppie." you were gently shaking his shoulder just as you could feel him stir under your touch. "thanks for the food. i .... i'm sorry i didn't answer your calls." though gepard didn't fully awaken, you could feel his shoulders tense before visibly relaxing at the sound of your voice. "mmm,,... love you, y/n." he murmured, before you could hear the faint beginning of his snores.
no doubt, he was tired. you had leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the head, just like he always did, but stopped midway. your hands were grazing the side of his face, before pulling away to instead drape a blanket over his sleeping form.
i love you too, gepard, you thought.
you didn't understand what had stopped you, nor why you couldn't find the voice to return his words, but you simply chalked it up to your torpor. not before long, your own exhaustion finally caught up to you and claimed you as you fell into a deep slumber.
"y/n?" the familiar voice of gepard's sister brought you away from your thoughts, as you whirled around to see serval, carrying her guitar in one hand and a couple papers in the other. your eyes widened when she ran over to envelop you in a warm embrace, holding all of those items and all. you had almost expected that she would ... well, never mind that.
"you're here! i... i'm- well, this is a pleasant surprise." you had allowed yourself to smile just as serval studied you intently. "of course. i wouldn't miss this for the world." a bitter laugh spilled from your lips, and you had only hoped that serval was not as perceptive as usual.
"well— i need to finish handing these out, but let's chat later, alright?" serval, as jovial as ever. you had almost anticipated the cold shoulder with how things had culminated, but she didn't.
but somehow, you wished that serval did. or more importantly, he would. maybe it would make the pain of forgetting a little less unbearable.
the day you had been waiting for finally arrived. at last, you had almost enough credits to buy your way out of jarilo-vi and start your life elsewhere. the tantalizing thought of fulfilling your lifelong dream had kept you on your toes, but the excitement was even more magnified when you remembered your anniversary with gepard, who had promised you a night to remember.
"what's all this?" to say that you were surprised was an understatement; your quarters, once a messy pile of armor, plates and nearly wilted flowers, had been transformed into a place befitting a romantic candlelight dinner.
which was ... also what gepard had prepared, as he stood in front of the table with a bashful smile. he had been holding a bouquet of fresh red roses, that his hand stretched out to hand to you. "it's for you. happy anniversary, beloved."
there were two glasses of champagne in front of your seats, along with a plate of— "is that stone-grilled olm?!" you exclaimed, to which gepard's smile shone brighter than the sun at the sound of your excitement. "i thought this was discontinued?!"
gepard only chuckled. "i may.. have pulled a few strings." you set the bouquet down as you took your seat across gepard. oh, you can already feel your stomach grumbling. "let's eat?"
you hadn't replied to him anymore, only digging in like a ravenous monster devouring its prey. you had missed the food served in the underworld, as most of them had discontinued their services after they found work in more in-demand places. you hadn't realized that gepard was just watching you eat, a small smile playing on his lips before disappearing when you let out a sound of confusion.
"you're not going to eat?" you asked, midway through a spoonful of olm in your mouth. gepard shook his head. "i, i will. in a bit." he took a sip from his glass, but his gaze never left you. you suddenly grew self-conscious, as you slowed your pace in eating the food.
"hey, y/n—" "yes?" your head snapped up, to gepard's surprise. silence fell between the both of you, before he cleared his throat to continue. "i... well, happy anniversary." you chuckled, as your fork speared through a piece of olm. "you already told me that, silly."
you had not expected to see gepard looking so nervous though, almost as if he had been hiding something. your eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion, before transforming into a more tender concern. "everything alright, geppie?"
before you knew it, gepard had reached over to hold your hand, his gaze finally meeting yours head on. "y/n. i... i know it had only been a little over two years that we had been together but it.. it has only strengthened my resolve more than anything." you didn't understand where all of this were coming from. "geppie..."
"you... you mean the entire universe to me. you are my sun, my moon and my stars. i... i know that you have your plans of leaving this city, and i understand and completely respect your decision but... i have never felt this strongly about someone, and i don't think i ever will for anyone else."
you only thought that these kind of things only happened in the tales that natasha would read to you during bedtime, but here it was unfolding, as you watched gepard get down in one knee before finally unveiling what he had been obviously hiding behind his back.
a ring. a beautiful diamond encrusted ring that you can only imagine costed millions of credits.
and it was for you.
"y/n, would you make me the happiest man alive and be my spouse?"
you could stare at gepard, mouth agape and a tidal wave of emotions threatening to sink you down from where you sat. "gepard, i—"
"we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of the captain of the silvermane guard, gepard landau and his spouse..."
of course. the wedding was starting. you blinked back tears just as you made your way to where you had resigned yourself to when you broke the captain's heart: in the sidelines.
even when half a decade has passed, you could never forget the night that gepard proposed to you with bated excitement in his eyes, you could never forget how you raised your voice in incredulity at him at the prospect of settling down in this forsaken planet, you could never forget how his sun-like smile twisted into a heartbroken frown as you uttered the word that shattered all his dreams.
you had said no to him that night, all because you did not want to be shackled down in the planet that you had made a long-standing pact to yourself to leave.
and now, you were paying the price for your own foolishness as you watched gepard marry another.
it was the first time since you saw gepard since you closed the door on him, as he stood at the end of aisle and fitted in the most stunning white suit that complemented his features. his hair had been parted in a way that made his look even more formal, but you somehow missed the tousled curls that were all over his face.
he still looked handsome as ever, which just made your heart clench in pain. you had taken the best thing in your life for granted, after all.
when you left jarilo-vi at last, all you were filled with was regret in leaving him behind. though you had earnestly enjoyed living in a different planet, you’d sometimes think about the domestic exchanges you shared with gepard during the time you were together.
when you had received a mail signed under landau, your heart had simply raced in excitement, only to fall flat on the ground when you read the contents of the invitation.
your thoughts had drowned out the words of the officiant, as your eyes only followed one person alone. gepard was standing in front, his hands joined with his would-be partner. despite the absence of the morning sun, you could have sworn the entire venue could have been lit up by gepard's smile alone.
you remembered how happy he got whenever you compared his smile to the sun. he never stopped smiling at you, afterward.
"do you, gepard landau, take auberon chevalier as your lawfully wedded spouse?” right as the officiant finished his words did gepard’s eyes finally meet yours, and it was almost as if the both of you were transported back to the first time you met each other.
gepard’s eyes seemed to widen at the sight of you, that you noticed that he never replied to the officiant’s words. “captain landau?” the crowd seemed perturbed at the sudden pause, just as you could feel your heart beat loudly against your chest.
there was a hint of despondency in his eyes as he met yours, and you could feel your breath hitch. in truth, you had half expected that the reason why you decided to show up to his wedding in the very planet you swore never to return to was to change his mind, but looking at him right now … you knew that would have been such a selfish thing to do.
“sorry, i do.” after a few moments, you watched as gepard finally managed to tear his gaze away from you. the officiant seemed relieved that nothing seemed to be going awry and continued on. “and do you, auberon chevalier…”
still, despite all— you were happy that someone had picked up gepard’s heart after you had impetuously stomped all over his, something you could never forgive yourself for.
even when the sight before you tore your heart to shreds, you were unbelievably happy that gepard had found someone he would feel so strongly about, and most importantly, someone who would not drop his heart like how you did.
you hadn’t realized that the officiant had finally pronounced them as spouses to one another until you heard the crowd go wild in cheers. gepard had finally kissed his spouse, as the people around you grew even wilder in screams.
in another life, you thought to yourself just as you finally stopped blinking back the tears that had threatened to spill from your eyes.
in another life, if i could love him again, i’d love him right this time.
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written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)
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stairain · 11 months ago
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Conditioned response
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You knew training someone like a dog wasn't the most ethical, but Spencer just makes it too easy to pass up.
Warnings: Sub Spencer, Mean reader, conditioning, forced orgasm, cumming in pants, dry orgasm, crying, begging, manipulation, ropes. 
WC: 1.2K
Training Spencer to cum on command was a labor of love. Having spent hours studying Pavlov and Skinner just to be able to make a  mess of your poor boyfriend on whim.
Spencer was almost unrecognizable, his face a deep shade of red and pink, slathered in a dripping layer of sweat, and a puddle of his own spend at his feet. 
Throwing his head back and swallowing breathlessly, he looks to you and pleads.
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please?”
His rug burned wrists desperately trembling in their binds as he tries so hard to be good for you. It’s wearing him down, you’ve made him cum at least three times now simply by the snap of your fingers. 
It wasn’t this easy at first, and it didn’t even register what you were doing when you finally gave him permission to cum and just so happened to snap at the same time. 
No, it took a while. After the next few times, it confused him, he ignored it, but then it became an expectation to him. 
Whenever your hand was tightly wound against the sensitive tip of his dripping cock, he’d look to you with those desperate pleading eyes before mustering up the courage to beg for release. 
After he’d ask, he wouldn’t wait for your call, no, instead he’d look down at wherever your free hand was. 
As a man of extensive knowledge, especially to things pertaining something as simple as conditioning, Spencer knew these things worked. 
He just hadn’t even expected himself to be the lab rat in your little experiment. 
But now, you’d find him adjusting just fine. At least to your standards. 
As soon as he arrived home, you had dragged him to the garage. He’d made no attempt to stop you, even as you sat him down on a cold metal chair. 
He didn’t even raise an eyebrow when you began to tie him to aforementioned chair. 
Spencer knew better than to question you, and he knew better than to speak without being spoken to. So when he dared open his mouth to talk, you’d quickly snapped your fingers, the sound reverberating through the empty, cold garage. 
Whatever word he tried to say had been quickly replaced with a weak whimper. You let out a small huff of amusement, you’d expected this. 
The dull brown cotton of his slacks were out to get him, he was convinced. You’d had enough of an ego boost knowing he just came untouched, but as the light fabric began to darken as it soaked with semen, you just couldn’t help yourself. 
“Look at you, making a mess so easily.”
You almost scoff, your words taunting and mean.  This was your own doing, how could you possibly blame him for this? But you did anyways, and he hung his head in shame as he tried to ignore the sticky spend seeping into his briefs. 
“I-I’m sorry, couldn’t help it.” 
It’s recommended to ask for permission before you beg for forgiveness, but you made sure he’d never be able to attempt the former. 
“Tell me what you know about counterconditioning, Spence.”
You say as you crouch down in front of him, granting the littlest bit of kindness as you start to undress him and rid him of his soiled clothes. 
The brunet stumbles over his words at first, but answers nonetheless. 
“I-It’s a way to reverse the effects of classical conditioning, associating a set conditioned response—“
You snap. He cums.
Spencer almost doubles over in shock as he shoots another load of sticky seed into his pants. 
“With another un—fuck—unconditioned stimulus.” 
You nod as you pull his cum drenched briefs and pants down his legs, and look up to him with eyes that render him absolutely useless. 
“And how would I do that, to stop this?”
You emphasize your question with the swipe of your fingers across his slick covered tip. His thighs twitch around your head and he licks his lips, trying to take back what little composure he’s ever had.
“Y-You could do that–“ His eyes flicker down to where you’re touching his cock “A-And stop snapping. E-Eventually there won’t be an association between the stimuli.” 
Spencer speaks with an urgency that’s only found in those who know they’re done for. 
“But you don’t want that, do you?”
Your voice drips in a malicious seduction, tilting your head to the side as if to feign an innocence only he should have. 
It doesn’t take more than a second for him to shake his head. Even with his cock aching and his thighs sticky, his need to obey you was stronger than the pain of his self. 
So when you smile up at him, looking genuinely proud, it makes the ache worth it. He smiles back, albeit crooked and broken. 
The moment doesn’t last long, of course it doesn’t. As soon as he saw you raise your hand and press your fingers together, his eyebrows wrung together and his thighs quickly shut. 
It was fascinating, it was as if his body just couldn’t stop itself. Even as only a few spurts shot out of his throbbing cock. Thick white drops of cum dripped down the veiny shaft, falling all the day down his balls and onto the chair beneath him. 
Spencer throws his head back and lets out a strained moan, one that was full of pain and little pleasure. 
It hurt so badly, and he could barely keep up. You were simply torturing him because you could.
“I-I can’t, please.”
He begs, shaking his head when you stand up from your knelt position and look down on him like he was a filthy animal. 
“I’ve only touched you once, and here you are cumming without my permission three times. How selfish.”
You degrade him, reducing him to the villain in the scenario. Tears begin to stream down his face and he can feel his heart twisting in his chest. 
You’re right, he’s failed you more times than acceptable. He should feel ashamed.
“I-I know, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Spencer practically sobs, his entire body trembles as it aches with the aftershocks of three forced orgasms. 
A small huff expels from your nose and you shake your head. It was unfair, really, how easily manipulated he was. 
It was your fault after all, but what was it worth if not the satisfaction of reducing this know-it-all of a man down to desperate pleads and animal-esque behavior? 
You’ve got your hand held up behind your back, he knows it. He knows you too well to ever even entertain the idea you’d ever listen to him, but he’s hopeless enough to try anyways. 
A sob wrecks through his throat and he feels as though he can barely breathe. 
“P-Please—Stop. Can we stop, please? I-I can’t do this anymore.” 
It’s cruel, the way you laugh in his face as he drowns in his tears. How foolish of him to even ask.
Maybe you were being a touch too cruel, but it was all worth it the moment you saw genuine fear fill his eyes and the slight shake of his head as he begged you one last time to end it. 
But he knew better, and he couldn’t help himself as the hand behind your back echoed a snap right through his ears and out his length. 
You see the way his mouth drops open in a shrill cry, and relish in the sight of nothing coming out of his poor cock in a torturous dry orgasm.
His body’s given you everything it possibly can, and yet, you just can’t help yourself. 
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captain-hawks · 1 month ago
Note
hi dee, merry christmas eve eve.
if you’re still taking drabble requests, i propose reuniting with famous ex-bf sae at a hometown xmas party
i don’t forgive you (but please don’t hold me to it) 🎀 itoshi sae x f!reader
4k — 18+, exes to lovers, infidelity (not sae x reader’s relationship), fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, praise kink, oral fixation, finger sucking, angst with a hopeful ending, playing fast and loose with sae’s timeline, timeskip
a/n: i listened to phoebe bridgers - punisher (the album) on repeat nonstop while writing this. recommended for the vibes!
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“I knew you hated me. But I didn’t realize just how much until tonight.”
A voice interrupts the silence on the back porch of the Itoshi household, its owner someone that you’ve spent the better part of the night avoiding. Your tongue caresses the back of your teeth, fingers subtly tightening their grip against the wooden railing. 
It feels like it might snow.
“Since when do you come back here for Christmas? Did you need to come sign some hometown autographs to boost your ego?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm as you stare out into the dark backyard, rather than turning your gaze to the ghost now standing beside you. 
Itoshi Sae laughs, and the sound cracks against your ribcage like a whip.
It reverberates against the grooves and fissures that still linger there, ones that might as well have been carved by his own hand. It races through you like a cold wind. It makes your lungs burn. 
You find it difficult to breathe for a moment.
And it takes everything in you to appear as unbothered by it all as you wish you were. As you’d like him to believe. 
“I heard from Rin that you’re working on your master’s degree now.”
That’s not any of your goddamn business, you think to yourself. 
“Rin has a big mouth—and since when are you two on speaking terms?”
Sae shrugs, leaving you to stew for a moment as you try to decide whether or not to be annoyed that Rin neglected to share that pertinent bit of information with you.
To be fair, the nearest object usually becomes a projectile weapon by your hand whenever the mention of Rin even having a brother comes up in conversation though. 
At the very least, you’ve stayed close with one of the Itoshi brothers.
And it’s bad enough that you have to dodge Sae’s stupidly famous name like the plague any time you dare to indulge in any piece of football media for Rin’s sake. Fuck him for being so good. 
(At least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. Rather than believing the alternative—that you’re just pathetically hyper aware of Sae in his absence, of all the space he left behind in your life. That five years later, you’re still slowly bleeding out from something that shattered into so many pieces, you don’t think you’ll ever find the last sliver.)
Inhaling sharply, you finally turn to face him. 
It’s not fair, not really—what the sight of him still does to you, even now. Even after all this time. 
Sae’s hair is tousled in a purposeful way, and his eyes are still as sharp as ever. He’s wearing sleek boots and fitted, dark wash jeans, his upper half covered by a jacket that’s likely as expensive as it appears.
He looks far better than he has any right to while you’re standing out here wearing a silly, ugly Christmas sweater that’s an annual staple of Itoshi holiday parties (your parents have been neighbors with them since you were a kid, so you know the drill by now). 
You try not to think about how you fell in love for the first time with the man standing five steps away from you here, between this dark backyard and the one nestled beside it. Beneath the shade of towering oak trees, in the plush grass on warm summer days with sticky popsicle fingers and sweat-slick skin. 
About how terribly you missed him when he left for Spain.
How you didn’t fully understand what you felt until he came back to Japan after you graduated high school. 
How you fell in love with him all over again. 
How he kissed you for the first time in this very spot, with one hand on your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You remember the way this very railing felt as it pressed into your back, the humid summer air and the buzz of the cicadas and the fireflies that winked in and out of sight around you. 
How you fell a little more in love with him every day over the four years that followed.
And you remember that you were standing here when Sae called you five years ago and told you that he’d cancelled his flight. That he wouldn’t be home for Christmas. 
That he didn’t think things were working anymore.
You couldn’t have disagreed more, but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. 
“Why are you here, Sae?”
He looks out into the darkness beyond in the yard before turning back to you. “Rin said you’re engaged.”
Self-consciously, you tuck the hand adorned with said diamond ring into your pocket. 
Sae’s eyes track the movement. 
“And?”
“That was quick,” he says calmly. 
The anger that rears up inside of you is so quick and sudden, you hardly have a chance to reign it in. 
“We’ve been together for two years. When you know, you know,” you shrug, ignoring the raw feeling at the back of your throat as you push the words out. 
Sae’s quiet for a moment, taking the subtle jab for what it is. “Where is he tonight?”
This time, you don’t hold back. “What, were you hoping to be politely introduced as the reason why I was a fucking emotionally unstable mess when he met me?”
His facial expression flickers. “I’m not going to apologize for not letting you continue to burn yourself out juggling a long distance relationship and a university degree between time zones. For not letting you choose me over your dream internship.”
“So you broke up with me over the phone three days before Christmas and mailed me all of my shit and went radio silent for five years? To show how much you cared about me?”
Sae takes two steps forward, shortening the distance between the two of you with tangible purpose. 
“You would have tried to talk me out of it, to come up with a solution that wouldn’t have worked.”
You nod, voice bordering on a frantic laugh. “So you made the choice for both of us. Because you know best.”
“Do you think I wasn’t hurting?”
Turning away, you wrap your arms around yourself, the cold finally seeping in past the adrenaline pumping through your veins, sinking into your bones in a way that makes you ache. 
“The only thing that could possibly hurt you is football.”
This time, it’s Sae that laughs, but it’s less amused and more self-deprecating now. And without warning, something heavy and warm settles around your shoulders, the musky scent of cologne enveloping you. 
Sae comes to stand in front of you, leaving you wearing his jacket. 
He’s wearing the goddamn stupid, ugly Christmas sweater with a dog on it that you bought for him years ago. 
“You’re wrong,” he says quietly, breath coming out as a white, whispy cloud of condensation. 
You wish you were. 
Ripping off his jacket, you shove it back into his arms before storming back inside, heart on the verge of pounding its way out of your chest and through the slats on the deck to burrow into the dirt below. 
You manage to avoid Sae for the next hour or so, mingling amongst other party guests and pointedly ignoring all of the excited chatter about the footballer’s festive homecoming. 
Rin doesn’t push, not in front of everyone, but you can tell by the concerned way he keeps glancing over at you that he’s aware you and Sae have talked. 
It’s only on your way to use the upstairs bathroom, hoping to glean a moment of quiet after your time out on the porch was so spectacularly ruined, that you find yourself distracted. 
There’s a dim light on in Sae’s childhood bedroom. 
And this is where he finds you again, standing frozen in the doorway and staring at the constellations projected on the walls by the small sphere-shaped lamp sitting on the desk in the corner of his room. 
The two of you used to lie on his bedroom floor for hours staring at the stars on his ceiling. 
“Does he make you happy?”
You’re expecting it this time when you hear Sae’s voice.
“Do you feel that’s any of your business?” you ask tiredly. 
He slowly walks past you into the room, sweater and jacket both seemingly discarded downstairs. He’s stripped down to a white t-shirt now, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. 
“I made myself let you go so that you could be with someone who would make you as happy as you deserve. I don’t think I deserve your answer, but I’d like to know.”
You curl your toes against the carpet beneath your feet—just like you used to every time a silly teenage confession for him was trembling on the tip of your tongue. 
Your engagement ring feels cool and heavy on your finger. 
You hate him, hate this. Hate this effortless vice grip he still has on your weak heart. 
“You made me happy,” you tell him, voice hardly above a whisper. 
You hate that you know he made the right choice. 
Sae blinks. 
You would have left everything behind for him—school, your career, your future. 
You were content with weekends spent tangled up in hotel rooms between his games, with failed exams and missed assignments and a life spent in suitcases. 
“Aren’t you dating that model?” you blurt out, scrambling for something. Anything. 
He nods but doesn’t offer anything else. 
“Well, why didn’t you bring her here?” It’s a battle to keep your voice steady. 
“I didn’t want to.”
He—
“What, you didn’t want her to see you jealous if I brought my fiancé?” you joke. 
Sae lets out a huff of air—it might be a laugh.
“Something like that,” he responds quietly, gaze shifting to the window.
“Tell me why you’re here,” you say again.
The sound of voices climbing the stairs floats through the open door, and you step further into the room, pushing it closed and locking it behind you before crossing your arms. You’d rather not be interrupted by his drunk aunts. 
“I wanted to know how it would feel.”
You tilt your head. “How what would feel?”
He gestures to your hand, to the new diamond just hardly glinting in the low light. “Seeing a ring on your finger, knowing I didn’t put it there myself.”
The ground beneath your feet feels marginally less solid as your gut churns and your nerves sway. Your teeth sink into your cheek, pain blossoming as you bite down. 
“And?”
Sae runs a hand through his hair. 
“I hate it.” 
It’s blunt and raw, the way the words slide off of his tongue. And he stares at you when it says it, refusing to break eye contact. You take a step toward him, no reasonable explanation for the movement beyond the fucked up magnetism that still pulls you toward this false promise of true north. 
“Why, would you have gotten me something nicer?”
It’s dizzying, this conversation. The way words keep coming out of your mouth unbidden, filling the gaps in years worth of silence. Stroking a bruise, scraping a scar. 
“You hate gold,” he replies evenly, and your hand subconsciously goes to your neck. To where a silver chain sat for years before you finally tore it off and threw it in an envelope marked with Sae’s address. 
His eyes wordlessly track the movement. 
“Do I?”
He steps toward you, closing the dwindling gap further. And you swear you can feel it—a subtle charge in the air. 
Sae nods, reaching out to lightly take your hand in his. He holds it up to inspect. “And this diamond’s too big. Too square. You like small stones, something vintage.”
He’s right. 
You stare at him, all too aware of the familiar feeling of his skin against your own. 
“You sound confident.”
He knows he’s right. 
And he doesn’t falter. “There’s been a ring sitting in a small, velvet box in the back of my closet for five years. I haven’t forgotten what it looks like.”
A—
Words die feebly in your throat as you weakly croak, “—what?”
Sae sits down on the edge of his bed, looking down at his own hands. “I had it all planned out. I was so fucking nervous, it was ridiculous. And then I woke up that morning and realized that I was being selfish trying to tie you down to me permanently.”
He meets your gaze as you stare back at him, dumbfounded. Your knees feel weak.
“You were going to propose?”
Sae nods.
You move to stand in front of him, your socked feet nudging his own. “Did you fly all the way home to finally tell me that?”
He looks up at you. “I don’t know.”
You’re not sure what happens first—the brush of your knees against his own or the spreading of his thighs. But you find yourself between his legs all the same, denim resting against your sheer stockings and the fabric of your skirt.
“What am I supposed to do with this information, Sae?”
His eyes burn through you. 
“Tell me to get rid of the ring. Tell me you want nothing to do with me. Tell me you hate me.”
His words strike like flint against the raw edges of your nerves.
“I hate you,” you tell him, even as you reach out let your fingers ghost along the curve of his jaw.
Sae’s eyes fall shut, and he leans into your touch.
You let your hand slide higher, into the soft locks of his hair. 
His intake of breath is audible.
“I hate that you left me. I hate that you made the choice without me. I hate that you were right, because I never would have come this far in my career, and I never would have gone this far with my education.”
“I’m sorry—” His voice comes out hoarse, and he collapses forward, head pressed against your abdomen.
“I hate that I still love you, even now. Even after all this time.”
Sae’s arms wrap around the backs of your legs even as he mumbles, “Don’t say that.”
You feel like you could catch fire at any moment. 
“Why not?”
He shifts his head, rubbing his face against the bottom edge of your sweater, and the material rides up just enough to expose a sliver of skin. 
“I don’t deserve to hear it.”
You drag your hand to the back of his head, tugging the hair there to tilt his chin upward to meet your gaze once more. Your heart lurches in your chest at the sight before you.
“Probably not, but you decided to kick off honesty hour, so.”
Sae tips his head back downward, his breath hot where his mouth rests against the bare skin above the waist of your skirt.
“I wish you’d tell me not to touch you.”
You shiver. “Should I?”
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
You don’t answer him as every reasonable part of you goes quiet, drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears and the reckless desire that shamelessly shudders its way down your spine.
“And if I don’t?”
It’s pointed this time, the way Sae’s lips press to your stomach in an open-mouthed kiss. 
Logically, you know this isn’t right—standing here between your ex-boyfriend’s legs in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. Not with an engagement ring on your finger. Not when he’s got a girlfriend waiting on him somewhere. Not when this well should be dry, this bridge should be burned.
The bruise should be gone and the scar should be healed.
But—
But you’ve known him more than half of your life.
And for as much as the past five years have hurt—
For as much as you’ve missed him.
For as much as you’ve wanted to forget him.
For as much as you want to hate him.
—you’ve never regretted anything when it comes to Itoshi Sae.
Not once.
You climb onto the bed, straddling Sae’s lap. He reaches up, pointer finger curling beneath your chin as his thumb presses against the edge of your bottom lip.
“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man if you don’t tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
Your pulse quickens, and you part your lips slightly, heat flooding your gut as Sae slides his thumb into your mouth. 
This is a terrible idea.
You flick your tongue against the tip of the digit, and he holds your gaze as he slowly pulls his thumb back out.
“I want you to touch me,” you finally say.
Sae’s other hand, now resting at the base of your spine, slides up your back, stopping once he’s cupping the back of your head. He leans in, forehead resting against your own.
You’re maddeningly aware of every single spot his body is touching yours.
“Say it again.”
You let your nose brush against the side of his as you murmur, “Touch me, Sae.”
It drags all of the air from your lungs—the feeling of Sae’s lips crashing into yours.
His mouth greets you like a long-lost lover, like a dog-eared page. Like worn in soles and the perpetual creak in the step at the bottom of the stairs. 
His lips move with the purpose of car tires down a street you’ve known most of your life. With the muscle memory of feet across a childhood home in the dark. 
Tongue dancing against the seam of your mouth, your lips part for him, desire and longing cresting in equal measure as he grasps your hips and pulls you impossibly closer.
Sae kisses you like he hasn’t kissed you in five years.
He kisses you like no time has passed at all.
He kisses you like he wants to tell you something more between tongues and teeth, between slick saliva and gasping breaths. 
You don’t mean for it to come out so desperate, so needy—the way you breathe out his name when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites and sucks his way to the edge before letting go.
“Sae.”
You hardly have time to register the way the room spins when Sae’s grip on you shifts, your back softly colliding with the mattress as you find him staring down at you. 
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
You shake your head, and he moves backward, pushing up your skirt, spreading your legs and settling down between your thighs. In the meantime, you slip off your sweater and toss it aside. Sae watches you do it, watches the way the tight black tank top you’re wearing underneath clings to your body, the way your peaked nipples sit on display through the fabric of your thin bralette. 
The heat that licks within your abdomen flares white-hot when he drags a thumb against your mound, your stockings already damp from the arousal soaking through your underwear.
There’s a slight tug in the material, followed by a ripping sound.
“Really?”
“There was already a hole.”
“You’re lying.”
Sae shrugs, but he doesn’t look sorry about it. “Yeah.”
You don’t have a chance to give him a hard time about ripping your stockings, not when you’re suddenly met with the feeling of two of his fingers sliding through the slick, creamy folds of your bare, soaked slit. 
“Sae,” you whine.
The bed creaks when you buck your hips upward while he circles his middle finger around the outer edges of your fluttering hole.
“You have to be quiet,” he murmurs, staring at you intently as he slowly slides a finger into your tight channel. 
You try to swallow it down, the moan that dangles at the edges of your lips while the slender digit slips deeper into your cunt. But as you tightly grasp the sheets on either side of you, it’s a lost cause when he pulls it out, only to stuff it back in up to the last knuckle. 
Sae’s mouth closes over yours, tongue sliding in past your lips in a messy, spit soaked kiss. You moan into it as he slowly finger fucks you, one digit becoming two, his thumb stroking your swollen, aching clit with each stroke, with every thrust. 
“Always loved how wet you get for me,” he rasps before capturing your tongue between his lips and sucking on it, the sounds nearly as filthy as the slick, creamy squelch of your cunt around his fingers.
You gasp, spine arching, thighs spreading wider as you rock into his touch, hands stretching downward until they brush the stiff press of Sae’s erection against the zipper of his jeans.
He groans into your mouth before pulling back, murmuring against your lips. “Are you sure—”
You squeeze his cock through his pants in return, kissing him again. 
Sae’s exhale is labored as he extricates his drenched fingers from your pussy just long enough to kick off his jeans and boxer briefs, leaving both in a discarded pile on the floor as he climbs back on top of you.
Your soaked panties and stockings are a lost cause by now, not worth the battle of peeling off, not when the torn hole allows him to rub the leaking head of his cock against your slit all the same. Tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes as stares down at you while he eases his shaft into the grip of your cunt inch by inch, until he’s balls deep and your legs are wrapped around his waist tugging him impossibly deeper. 
“Fuck,” he gasps, one hand splayed at the back of your head, the other sliding up your shirt and beneath your bra to palm at your breasts.
Just the sensation of his thumb stroking its way across one of your pebbled nipples alone has you twitching beneath him, cunt grinding against the base of his shaft. Your muscles tremble with pleasure as Sae pulls out of you, only to rock back in. The room echoes with the wet sounds of your pussy swallowing his cock, the accompanying little moans begging to trickle out past your lips silenced by the two fingers he slides into your mouth in turn.
Because Sae hasn’t forgotten any of the little ways to take you apart, not at all.
There’s no apprehension in the way you shamelessly suck on his fingers, a trail of drool spilling out past your lips and dripping down your chin, the arousal churning between your legs going molten. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs—if for no reason other than the fact that he knows what it’ll do to you.
And the way your pussy clenches down on his cock makes it abundantly clear.
The corner of Sae’s mouth lifts, caught somewhere between a smirk and a rueful smile. It’s the satisfaction that he still knows you, that this is more than just muscle memory. 
He knows you like the stars know the night sky.
Like the shore knows the tide.
He kisses you again, languid and deep. Like this means so much more than a quick fuck on a cold December night caught in the throes of the liminal space of his childhood bedroom.
Like this means so much more than finally ending it where it all began.
“I love you,” Sae gasps against your lips as he thrusts into you.
The coil wrapped tightly in your gut unfurls, rapid and quick, and a scorching wave of pleasure washes over you as your cunt spasms and contracts around his length.
“I love you, too,” you choke out, bordering on a sob, and Sae’s fingers brush away the tear that slips down your cheek as he fucks you through your climax.
You can feel when he’s on the verge of pulling out, and you shake your head. His lips crash back into yours with a rough groan as his cock pulses inside of you, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum deep in your cunt.
Sae eventually collapses beside you, rather than climbing off of the bed, and he pulls you to his chest. You lie there like that for a moment before slowly sitting up, and he watches you quietly as you raise both hands, grasping your occupied ring finger. The sound of metal clinking against wood echoes in the silence of Sae’s bedroom as you turn to the nightstand before laying back down beside him.
He takes your now-empty hand in his, pressing his lips to the heel of your palm. 
Like the shore knows the tide.
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