#as much as i love to dwell on the angst of their relationship i feel so happy to see an accurate representation of what healing is like

[torgawl]

do you think part of the reason diluc still struggles with his resentment towards kaeya is because kaeya is more like what crepus wished diluc to be? crepus was so proud of diluc for his accomplishments as a knight and lived his dream through him as well and we know how much crepus' approval meant for diluc, more than any title or doing. i sometimes wonder if diluc feels hurt knowing that kaeya gets to live the equivalent to his past life as a knight as if nothing happened when he had to make sacrifices for his own peace of mind and sense of justice. i wonder if that's what pains him the most, not the fact kaeya ommited the truth about his past for so many years but having felt like he was the only one who cared to do something regarding his father's death and who showed any sense of uprightness when confronted with the knights' request to cover their mistake and negligence. i always think about how diluc might have felt like everything was a lie and his sense of betrayal. but maybe that didn't matter as much as having the support of his brother and someone he could share his pain with would have mattered. maybe the worst thing wasn't what kaeya did but what he didn't do; maybe it was never about his actions but the lack thereof.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 13.5k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ RETURN TO PART ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ TWO ]

viii. I LOVE YOU LIKE A DRUG

november has a harsh cold to it that goes right through the skin of your cheeks. with your long black coat and matching gloves, you walk through the city, heading towards your lawyer’s office.

it’s been a few days since you last saw or talked to mingyu. you’ve been thinking about the kiss constantly, unable to stop it from clouding your mind. it’s hard to believe you hated his guts for years and completely changed your opinion on him within months — he took you by surprise on that. which you’re not sure how you feel about.

it’s as if his handprints were etched into your skin. you can still remember exactly how it felt, where they were. more importantly, perhaps, you know what your mind keeps leading to when the memory runs through your head.

that you want nothing more than for him to put his hands on you again. you want him so much that you have to clench your fists and tell yourself to get it together.

the universe must like to mess with you, as you receive a text from him at that exact moment. stopping in your tracks on the street, you’re just about to read it when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

once you’ve looked up from your phone, you see the devil himself standing there with a meek little smile on his face, which has you scoffing when he greets you. “hi.”

his dark hair is slicked back as he sports a thick winter jacket, jeans and black shoes. god, he’s handsome. why is he so annoying?

instead of responding to his greeting, you just speak your mind. “what’re you doing here?”

“chan mentioned you had an appointment in the neighborhood, so here i am. i wanted to see you.”

“why?”

“what, am i not allowed to visit my partner in crime?”

you purse your lips. “i thought we both agreed on discretion regarding our relationship.”

“and what kind of relationship is that?”

“an understanding.” your response comes out colder than anticipated, but you stick with it. “look, gyu, what we did… we probably shouldn’t do it again.”

he seems surprised. and a little disappointed, which he hides very quickly, but not quick enough.

so he pouts at you, doing his best not to dwell on it. “okay. any particular reason?”

you inhale sharply, trying to give him the best possible excuse you can come up with. “we agreed to keep it professional, didn’t we?”

“we did.” he nods, speaking in a way as if he were focusing on something else. “is that all there is to it? or do you have another reason?”

his gaze is playful, which makes you smile as you look down at your feet for a moment. “i’m sure you can fill the blanks.”

“interesting choice of words.”

“god, you’re such a perv.”

mingyu laughs when you punch his shoulder, his hand comfortable on your lower back. you don’t swat it away, utterly contradicting your previous words, but you can’t find it in yourself to care that much.

two days later, you’re over at his apartment, continuing your research where you left off last week, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining things, but it feels like there is a palpable tension in the air. soft rain taps against the windows while you’re looking at some security footage his friend seungkwan sent over about an hour ago.

with the two of you sitting beside eachother as you’re looking at the screen of your laptop, you find it difficult to focus on the footage, because you feel electrified by his mere presence. it’s ridiculous. he accidentally brushes your knee with your hand, and you feel a rush going through your body. a candle is lit on the table — his tan skin looks beyond beautiful, his brown eyes piercing through yours like never before.

you want him.

you. want. him. and no one else.

it’s driving you nuts, and as if he can read your mind, he begins to talk about it.

“i haven’t been able to stop thinking about our kiss.”

while the footage keeps playing in the background, you bite your lip, sucking in a breath. “gyu.” you say his name in a near scolding manner.

“do you like me?” he suddenly turns his head to face you, which feels borderline intrusive. like he’s able to see everything that’s going on in your head and heart.

it steals your breath, making your voice sound somewhat strained as a result, and you can’t even bring yourself to lie about it any longer. “i might.”

“i like you. a lot.” he says, and when you think he’s getting closer to you, you stand up from your seat, doing whatever you need to do to get it back together. you don’t want him to know how you really feel, so you clench your fists in your place, your back facing him.

“what does it matter? we’re nothing more than partners. that’s all there is to it.”

as you shake your head to yourself, he gets up as well, moving to stand behind you. “is that why you kissed me?”

“it was just the heat of the moment.”

“you’re a good liar — but not that good.” mingyu shamelessly eyes your body up and down, and when you look over your shoulder, he meets your gaze with something that appears to resemble pride, in a way.

arrogance, perhaps.

for whatever reason, that ticks something off in you. “you want me to be honest? fine. i don’t want to like you, mingyu. i didn’t want to enjoy that kiss. i’ve spent years hating you to the bone, and changing that opinion on you feels like betraying myself.”

he blinks at your sudden and blunt confession, but it’s honest and clear to him.

then he nods in understanding.

“just… hypothetically, if i said i wanted to kiss you again, what would you do?”

you notice a clear difference in his tone, his breathing, his eyes dropping down to your lips — oh, he’s fucking turned on. he knows you want him as badly as he wants you. you both know it.

“i’d tell you it was a one-time thing.”

he gets closer to you, eyelids hanging low and the hint of that damn smirk tugging at his mouth. “how about one more? for good measure. just to get our rocks off.”

the proposition is almost laughable, yet you selfishly find yourself agreeing. “just once?”

“just once.” the palm of his hand cups your jaw, and you know you’re done for when you lean in first, causing him to smile triumphantly right before his lips lock with yours.

this is what you’ve both been yearning for the past week. now that you have it, it feels like drugs, almost — addicting.

you kiss him with vigor, and his tongue slips into your mouth, leaving you aching for more. it’s when his hand pulls you closer by your waist that you force yourself to back away from him, both you and him gasping for air.

“gyu, we were supposed to—”

“keep things professional, i know,” he breathes out, his forehead resting against yours as if he has to make the biggest decision of his life, “but i don’t want to anymore.”

his hands are still on your waist, trailing down to the flesh of your upper legs, and he squeezes it, feeling sick at the idea of someone touching you there that’s not him.

“need you so bad. please — let me touch you.”

looking at his desperate form for a moment, you internally decide to go for whatever your body wants — and that’s to have him tonight.

so you roll your eyes, pulling him to you by his black t-shirt, your hands on the back of his neck before he can comprehend it. he hoists you up by the back of your thighs, taking you to his spacious bedroom.

your back touches the soft bed within seconds. his hands continue to glide up and down your body, and he subtly puts his one hand underneath the hem of your shirt, fingers touching your warm skin, and you almost forget to breathe.

mingyu feels your fingers pulling at the waistband of his jeans, and he relishes in how eager you are. he kisses your neck and moves lower painfully slowly, causing you to writhe underneath him, because you need him now.

it’s certainly a first for you to have such a need and desperation to fuck someone. and for him, of all people. if you had known about this in the morning, you wouldn’t have believed it.

but then again, the tension has been brewing between you two for years, reaching its highest point over the last couple weeks.

maybe he was onto something when he suggested for you to fuck him back in the strip club.

his lips are touching your bare stomach, and you show a hint of dominance by undoing the buttons of your pants and shoving down your panties, putting your hand on his head to guide it between your legs.

and he just lets you.

he takes your pants and underwear from your ankles and discards the pieces on the floor, hands on the back of your thighs once more as he pushes them to lean over his shoulders.

the first few seconds are spent basking in his excitement. his heart races when he looks you in the eye, and he grins to himself before diving in.

for some reason, he feels this primal urge to prove himself to you, to make you feel good like no one ever has before.

whatever the hell it is that made him have such a massive change of heart, he doesn’t know.

but he does know one thing — he worships the ground you walk on.

so to hear you gasp and whine for him when he eats you out only spurs him on to keep going, to make it dirtier and messier and keep having you moan his name.

mingyu encourages you to pull on his hair, and with each strand being pulled, he grows harder in his pants. he moans at the pain, humming against your pussy while his tongue is buried inside you.

you’re grinding against his face and he hums again, loving the feeling. “rub it in my face, baby, ‘s so good—” he babbles as his cock is rock-hard and throbbing against the fabric of his jeans, and he rubs his hard-on against the matress to get any kind of friction.

over the course of the years, even while hating him, you wondered if he was good in bed.

you didn’t think your question was going to be answered by first-hand experience.

he’s not only sickeningly good at providing pleasure — he seems to get off on it, too. your fingers clamp on his long strands of hair, thighs around his head, almost suffocating him, and even when you hit your first climax, he just keeps going. his tongue moves as if you’re not completely crumbling before him.

with a sudden sensitivity hitting you, you have to pull his face from your pussy, and he looks at you with lust-blown eyes and your wetness smeared over his lips and chin.

yeah, you fucking like him. jesus.

the little fang-shaped teeth he has show themselves when he grins at the mess he’s made of you. “want me to go again?”

“would you?”

“i’d keep going for hours if that’s what you want.”

pressing your lips together, you inhale deeply, ‘cause he looks like he means it, too. “well, as great as that sounds, i want you in me. now.”

he would’ve had a damn field trip eating you out again, but he certainly won’t complain, because he’s about to bust in his pants from just looking at you. his eyes return to your figure when you take your shirt off, dick twitching when you unclasp your lacy bra and show your completely bare body to him.

“are you just gonna keep staring?” you ask teasingly, and he needs a few seconds to get his brain running again, chuckling at your words before he removes his own clothes, pushing you back to lay you down.

“can’t help that i like what i see.”

you’re about to give him a witty retort in return when you feel the tip of his cock at the entrance of your hole, pushing forward just the slightest bit, and your lashes flutter at the sensation. he bites his lower lip at the feeling, a sudden intensity hitting the both of you.

then he pushes himself inside, inch by inch, achingly slowly. your brows scrunch together and you throw your head back, manicured nails digging into his bedsheets.

“hah—gyu—” you mumble, tension setting into your shoulderblades as he stretches you open, and you’re so tight that he feels just as suffocated as you do.

“fuck, you’re fucking tight.” he huffs out, utterly savoring your wetness wrapping around him. “can i keep going?”

at hearing the question, a breathy laugh escapes you. “how fucking big are you to have to ask that?”

“well, ‘m only halfway in right now, baby.”

fucking hell. the look on your face is borderline horrified, because jesus, you’re gonna need to adjust to him.

he lowers his chest to hover above yours, and your hands immediately move to his back, nails aching to dig into his skin. he’s only focused on your face now, and he pushes himself in all the way, watching your face contort in pain and pleasure.

your body stiffens for a second before it relaxes, and he has to hold down the urge to start moving. “that’s it. took me all the way in,” he mutters, and you nod to yourself, accidentally clamping down on him, at which he groans.

the first movements are small, slow — gentle. you release long, dragged-out moans that are the single hottest thing he’s ever heard. but he needs more, needs to get rid of the little voice in his head to fuck you hard and stupid.

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming back in, and the erotic whine you let out is just too good to his ears.

so he does it again, again, again. he fucks you to the point a different part of him takes over, ruthlessly seeking the pleasure and pain that gets him off like nothing else. he likes it fast, hard, and deep, and by the looks of it, you do too.

you’re clinging onto him with every thrust, every kiss, every moan, and he loves it.

mingyu moans, eyebrows knitted together as he’s hypnotized by the feeling of himself sheathed all the way inside you. “take it — take my fucking cock.”

“mhm. a little harder — please?” you beg, and if he wasn’t in love with you yet, he certainly is now. how on earth do you look as gorgeous as you do whilst half fucked-out, still needing more?

naturally, he gives in to you, doing whatever you ask of him. he fucks you harder, his grip on your waist tightening with each thrust.

you come to one conclusion — you don’t think anyone’s ever fucked you this good.

his mouth latches onto your tits, sucking at your nipples, and you bring his head up to kiss him again. it’s sloppy, and his movements begin to slow a little, your wetness dripping down his cock. “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

“want more, gyu. i want you to cum in me.”

“you—” he stutters out, “you want it?”

nodding at him, you even push yourself against him, his cock sinking just a little deeper into you.

so he fucks you as hard as he can until he feels himself hitting that blissful climax, continuing to roll his hips and stuff you as full of him as possible. then he sits up with a thin layer of cold sweat on his back, and he pulls himself out as slowly as he entered you, watching drops of cum seep out of your hole.

“so much for professional.” you breathe out, after which you both chuckle, and he leans in to kiss you again, and you get on top of him, taking charge, and he shivers in anticipation.

the night becomes an increasing blur with every kiss, every touch, every thrust — it’s hard to say what time it is or how many times you’ve gone at it when you finally let yourself sink into a deep sleep.

when you wake up beside him in the morning, you watch his sleeping form, your heart flutters.

it’s bizarre how he’s made you feel a kind of love you didn’t even know existed before. a feeling of great complexity and intensity that’s settled deep into your gut whenever he’s near.

as if he’s become a part of you that you can’t let go.

checking your phone, you know it’s time to get up, since you’ve got an important agenda today. yet when you try to silently slip away from his bed, you feel a warm hand on yours.

“don’t go.” he pleads, his voice lower and raspier than usual from sleeping. there’s a certain desperation in his now open eyes, and it affects you.

“i have to. appointments i can’t cancel, you know what that’s like—”

but he’s not talking about your day.

“i’m afraid of people leaving me,” he suddenly admits with a shaky tone, “and i like what we have. i like you. i guess i’m scared that… this was just a one-time thing, ‘cause it wasn’t for me. i don’t want to go back to what we were before all of this.”

processing his words, you nod, touching his cheek, reassuring him. “it wasn’t a one-time thing for me, either. you have me, i promise.”

“okay.” he gently smiles at you, his fingers caressing yours, and you lean in to press a kiss onto his lips, which he immediately reciprocates.

you give him a quick goodbye after putting your clothes on, and he’s left smiling to himself in bed while you walk out of his apartment with the same expression.

but you should know by now that all good things come to an end — one way or another.

ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

the two weeks since your first time sleeping together have been nothing but excitingly ignorant bliss. in between his meetings and family commitments and your meetings regarding your father’s business relations, you’ve been meeting eachother in the middle at every opportunity, the investigation of your father’s death fading into the background bit by bit, getting lowered on your list of priorities.

none of your friends are aware of your relationship – since it’s a secret, and neither of you have really labelled it yet – as far as you know, anyway.

being with him is comfortable to you, and surprisingly enough, he’s the first person who’s made you feel like you could breathe properly after the chaos that your father’s death caused.

“do you really have to go out at this hour?”

“yeah, unfortunately.” he presses a kiss to your lips before pulling his shirt on while you’re still naked on his bed. “i’ll be back as soon as i can, but you don’t have to wait for me, okay? it’s probably gonna take a while.”

with a sigh, you nod, pouting a little. “okay. i’ll probably go take a shower and head home after.”

he kisses the top of your head this time, and it all feels awfully domestic.

but it’s a good feeling.

mingyu takes in the sight of your bare face and body covered in nothing but his sheets, and he feels like things were meant to be like this. like you two were always indirectly tied together, and now this is your reality.

“you’re allowed to stay as long as you want. i’ll call you later, baby, yeah?” he hums against your lips, and you nod, wanting nothing more than to pull his shirt off and drag him back into bed with you.

“mhm. you should go, or you’ll be late.”

he chuckles, his mouth grazing the top of your hand before he exits the room, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving you alone in his apartment.

after taking a short nap, you decide to get up and take a quick shower.

this might be the first time you’re completely on your own in his place — so you feel like checking out what he’s got lying around here.

it’s not because you don’t trust him, truly. you just like to snoop around a little, out of curiosity.

you peek into his drawers, his closet, his personal things, except for what he’s got kept under lock and key.

what intrigues you are the clear scratches on the floor by the cupboard. everything in his apartment is perfectly clean and clearly well taken care of, so this makes you raise a brow.

you figure the scratches were made by moving the cupboard to the side, so you do the same thing, trying to see if there’s a particular reason for it.

it’s hard to contain a scoff once you lay your eyes on what is apparently hiding behind it.

a safe hidden behind a cupboard. seriously? did he take inspiration from your father’s office or something? this is starting to get a bit weird.

the safe seems to require a code with six digits to be unlocked, and since the system and mechanics seem on the older side, you doubt it would send off any signals if someone tried out a wrong code.

biting your lip, you give in to your curiosity, and try out a few codes.

a popular choice for codes are always birthdays, often loved ones, and since mingyu is a complete softie in that regard, you figure it might be worth trying out.

you remember his father’s birthday from the tombstone at the graveyard where your father was buried as well. his mother celebrated her birthday last week, so that’s easy.

unfortunately, neither of the codes work.

fuck, what was his sister’s birthday again? you don’t remember. then an idea pops up in your head – she probably made a birthday post on social media at some point. you search the username and scan her profile, and within a minute, you’ve found it.

with your phone in hand, eyes going from the screen to the rotating dials, you enter the code, and the sound of a clicking lock causes your heartbeat to quicken.

it worked.

throwing your phone onto the bed, you open the safe, several items catching your eye.

there’s quite some things in there considering it’s such a small space. some stacks of money, a few vials with clear liquids in them, a gun, a passport with his photo but a different name – what the fuck is this? his backup plan to start a new life in case he needs it? that’s close to paranoid, especially for a guy who seemingly has no enemies.

behind the piles of dollar bills, you find a few old-fashioned cassette recorders stacked up, each of them numbered from one to ten.

as your curiosity gets the better of you once more, you take the recorders out of the safe and put them on the floor, where you sit down to listen to whatever’s on them.

you click the button at the back of the device, noise beginning to crack through the small speaker.

“i know recording myself confessing to something as grave as this could be my downfall, but… it’s something i need to get off my chest. i need to.” your hear him inhale sharply. “i’m setting a plan in motion that will lead to someone’s death. it’s not something i’m proud of, but he’s threatening my family. i don’t know what else to do.”

your eyes widen as you listen to the rest of the tape. he’s talking about killing your father, using a poison to take him out. once it’s finished, you look for the second tape with shaky fingers.

“getting it done shouldn’t be hard. the real issue is having an alibi, and if necessary, i need someone to put the blame on. the death of someone as important as him will draw attention, so should they assume he didn’t die of natural causes, they’re gonna want to convict someone. i can only think of one person who fits the criteria — his daughter.”

it’s like the confirmation you’ve been waiting for. this is what he’s been hiding all this time. of course he didn’t want to help you without an ulterior motive.

your heart breaks the moment he says it. just how much of a fool have you been?

“we’ve always hated eachother. looking back, i’m not sure how it started, but it did. she’s the only one who could have a solid motive. i don’t want to frame her, or anyone for that matter, but if the police decide it’s not an accident, i’ll have no other choice. maybe her lawyer can find a way around it.”

tape three.

“the plan is to pretend i have a lead on the killer when i’m actually planting fake evidence to make her seem like the culprit. i talked to her in the graveyard today, but she completely lashed out at me. it’s hard to tell who she hates more — me, her father, or herself. though i didn't know her hatred for me ran this deep, nor that she was this lonely. i kind of feel for her.”

tape four.

“she just agreed to be my date to the gala next week, though she's certainly not thrilled about it. understandably so, i guess. she's quite intimidating when she’s mad. maybe i should take notes, seeing how she always stands so firmly on business.”

tape five.

“i didn’t think she’d go as far as to go through my room. she’s more determined than i gave her credit for. god, i could barely keep it together when she said whoever killed her father did her a favor. it’s maybe the only good thing about this whole mess. i wanted to scream, tell her that it was me who did her that favor.”

tape six.

“leave it to her to interrupt a stripper’s lap dance and take me with her instead. the man taking money out of her father’s account was hired by me — i needed to subtly prove to her that it couldn’t have been me, ‘cause i was at the other side of the city when it happened. i was curious to see if she’d take the bait, and she did. she mentioned something about wanting someone who would let her be… uninhibited. it scared and surprised me; mostly because i want the exact same.”

tape seven.

“we broke into her father’s office together. it was… thrilling. exciting. she keeps surprising me with how daring she is. somewhere underneath that hard surface hides someone who’s aching for adventure, i think. maybe we’re more similar than i thought. and she’s so clever, i just—i like her. like, platonically, of course. we work well together. i should probably be more careful, try not to get too close. who knows what that might lead to.”

tape eight.

“i kissed her. i fucking kissed her. well, she kissed me first, but… i kept it going. not just a little peck, no, a full-on makeout session. it was… the type of kiss they talk about in the romance novels. i’ve never felt that big of a need to kiss someone before. and she’s so gorgeous, too. i wonder if she’s thinking about it as much as i am right now.”

tape nine.

“wonwoo says i have feelings for her, in a way. i… i feel like there’s no going back if i acknowledge it. but there's something about her, it's like... i'm not sure. like she and i are on the same wavelength. we’re so different yet so similar.”

tape ten.

“the police are tightening their grip. they wanna name the culprit, and fast. i’ve thought of turning myself in, but i’ll ruin the family name if i do that. my mom and sister will be cast out if that happens. and then there’s… her. god, she’s become so special to me. i can’t go through with it — i can’t. the idea of losing her makes me feel suffocated. fuck, i don’t know what to do.”

and just like that, you close your eyes for a moment.

everything falls into place.

putting the final tape to the side, your cheeks are wet from the tears that have been silently rolling down your cheeks ever since you hit the first play button.

he doesn’t really like you — of course he doesn’t. he’s just using you for his own gain, to cover up his crime.

it’s then that the heavy sobs come out. you utterly fall apart, feeling weak and manipulated and alone.

terrifyingly alone, more than ever before.

but you force yourself to stop crying by telling yourself that you won’t allow him to use you anymore. you need to be steps ahead of him now that he’s not aware of you knowing this information, so you wipe your tears away and play all the tapes again, but this time with your phone making recordings of each one of them.

overcome by your emotions, you feel ready to throw up.

whatever you’re about to do, it’ll probably come back to bite you in the ass later, but you don’t care. not anymore. everything’s already gone to hell anyways.

when mingyu arrives at his apartment a few hours later, it’s empty. he frowns when noticing that your clothes and things you had lying around are all gone, but shrugs it off, believing you probably had a good reason for taking them back home.

but when he calls you the next day, you don’t pick up. you don’t answer any of his texts. your staff by the gate tells him that no visitors are allowed into the driveway, meaning he can’t even get to your front door anymore.

something’s happened. he just doesn’t know what.

long after he’s had his dinner, the rain comes pouring down from the dark clouds in the sky, thunder rumbling in the distance as you make your way to the front door of mingyu’s apartment.

he instantly notices something is very wrong once he lays eyes on you. you look like you’ve just gone through hell and back.

you let yourself in before he can say anything, so he closes the door behind you, confusion painted across his face. “i’ve been calling you — what’s going on? did something happen?”

oh, the question immediately pisses you off even more than you already are. this is about to be fun. “well, you’d know.” you grumble.

“know what?”

“that you killed my fucking father.”

the words strike like lightning. you finding out about the truth certainly wasn’t part of the plan, and since you seem so convinced, he doesn’t have much faith in trying to convince you of his innocence.

when his surprised expression fades, you finally see the truth written all over his face. his jaw is clenched tight, lips pressed together into a thin line, and he suddenly looks very guilty. “how… how did you find out?”

“the tapes. who the fuck records their own confession to murder? were you trying to get me to find out?” you rhetorically ask, eyes blazing fire.

mingyu huffs to himself. he knew he shouldn’t have kept those tapes — fuck.

“look, i—” he swallows, attempting to mend the situation, but you don’t let him speak.

“no. you’re going to tell me exactly what you did and why you did it. you owe me that much.”

he flinches, closing his eyes for a moment, lowering his head, his way of showing he accepts his defeat. “your dad… i always thought he wanted me around because he liked me, but after all those years, that turned out to be a lie. i found out he was blackmailing my mom with evidence of my father’s wrongdoings before his passing — fraud, embezzlement, all of that. we’re talking millions of dollars here. the damage it would’ve done to my family if that ever came out… it’s something i had to prevent. hell, i wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one behind my dad’s car accident. so i did what i thought was necessary.”

you can only scoff. “of course. how noble of you.”

“i’m sorry.” he tells you, but it’s a lie. your father was a despicable man, loved by no one. not really, anyway.

“if you’re going to lie to me, at least do it well.” you scold him, turning away from him for a moment, looking at the rain outside through the large windows of his apartment. “how did you kill him? i wanna hear you say it.”

“can’t we talk about—”

interrupting him, you turn around, the pistol from his safe in your hand, and it’s pointed at him. he anxiously awaits your next move.

“don’t make me ask again. i don’t particularly feel like repeating myself.”

he shudders at the view of the gun pointed at him, but does what you tell him to. “i poisoned him. he had no idea, didn’t suspect me at all. i told him to go home, so he’d die there.”

“where i would be, too. perfect plan, huh?”

“the plan was to make it look like a death from natural causes. the poison would be out of his system by the time the authorities were to perform the autopsy on his body — but then they found him dangling from the ceiling instead. that wasn’t my doing, so i figured the poison got to him to the point he wanted a quicker way out. you were there, with a reasonable motive. i panicked and made a choice.”

inhaling sharply, your eye twitches. “you chose to frame me.”

“i was going to.”

“oh, give me a break. don’t start acting like you care about me, now.”

“except i do. it was different in the beginning — but then i just—i didn’t remember why i hated you. i couldn’t even fathom a possible reason to. i started liking being around you, and you felt it too. i know you did, you said it yourself.” he pleads, getting closer to you, not giving a damn that the barrel of the gun is touching his chest at this point.

a tear escapes your eye, but your anger is still there. “you know what the thing is, mingyu? i don’t even care that you killed him. hell, if you had come to me after our interrogations and confessed that it was you, i would’ve thanked you. what i care about is that you took advantage of me when i was vulnerable, and that you made me feel like i mattered to you when you were all just doing it for your own gain.”

it’s like you’ve ripped his heart out of his chest. he wishes he could make you understand that you’ve made him feel more alive than anyone he’s ever met, that you’ve grown to mean so much to him in a ridiculously short span of time. that he’d go to hell and back to protect you now.

“you matter to me. more than anyone else.”

all you can do is let out a sarcastic fit of laughter; you don’t trust a single word that comes out of his mouth. “i need you to tell me something. did you sleep with me because you actually wanted to or because you felt like you had to in order to manipulate me to get closer to you?”

he seems appalled at what you’re implying. “of course i wanted to. all i ended up wanting was you—”

“don’t you fucking lie to me!” you burst out angrily, at which he flinches, but his frustration brings him to confess his true feelings.

“it’s not a lie, because i’m in love with you!” he raises his voice in desperation, “i don’t care if you shoot me right here, right now. it won’t change how i feel about you.”

your heart shatters even more, because he sounds so genuine, yet it doesn’t make you feel the way it should.

the words should probably bring some kind of twisted comfort, but they feel like a gut punch instead. you grab your chest to stop yourself from hyperventilating. “at least i was right at the beginning. the golden boy is a fucking murderer. you’ve played your part well, i gotta admit.”

he watches you breathily laugh and cry at him, and all he can do is stare back at you with teary eyes and a guilty face.

“please don’t say that.”

“why? does it hurt, hearing the truth?”

“i swear to you—”

you shut him up by pushing him backwards with the pistol against his chest. “you know, when you bothered me after the funeral, when i had my breakdown, i wanted nothing more than to cave in your skull with a rock. looking back, i should’ve just done it. would’ve spared me this whole mess.”

surprisingly enough, you simply put the pistol back in your jacket pocket, but mingyu is just as if not more afraid of you. your gaze is the harshest, coldest, meanest he’s ever seen it. all you do is look at him and he crumbles.

and yet he still wants you. he knows you hate him to the bone, you detest every part of him, and he still. wants. you.

and he intends to show you that, because he’s willing to throw every last shred of pride and dignity he has let out the window if it means you’ll show him you want him even the smallest bit. “i’ll prove it to you. if you ask me to turn myself in, i’ll turn myself in. i’ll do it, for you.”

god, he seems so genuine in it, too.

your breaths are ragged, and you feel like you need to get literally anywhere else, out of the suffocation that is this room with him in it. you barely even noticed he’d taken a hold of your hand until now.

“i can’t do this. just—just let me leave.”

he does.

the moment the door slams shut behind you, he has to grab the nearest object to hold himself up, leaving him wondering what the hell just happened.

x. WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER?

the following days are spent anxiously pacing in his apartment. what is he supposed to do? what should he say to you? what should he tell the press, that he’s innocent? guilty? what should he tell his family? that he killed a man to protect them and their reputation? would they even look him in the eye if he confessed?

he waits and waits and waits for his arrest to come, for the police to barge into his home and take him away to a cold, dark prison cell — yet the day never comes.

personally, he wonders if you’re waiting it out to make you feel as shitty as you’ve probably been feeling since the day you discovered his true colors.

nearly a week after the fight between you, he decides he can’t take it anymore. he needs to see you.

you doubt you’ve ever felt as miserable as you’ve felt these past days. it’s like you’re torn between hating mingyu for taking advantage of you and hating yourself for being stupid enough to fall for it. to fall for him.

because no matter how much you want to deny it, you did.

something you desperately needed was a distraction, which is why you ended up accepting wonwoo’s invitation to the event his father is hosting tonight at his estate just outside the city. with your little black dress on and hair perfectly styled, you down a glass of champagne next to wonwoo, who looks a bit concerned. “everything okay?”

the noise of chatter and soft music in the background only overwhelms you more. “yeah. i just… haven’t had alcohol in a while.” you mutter a bullshit excuse, not really caring whether you sound believable or not.

“i get it if you don’t feel like being here right now, with everything that happened recently. i can take you home if you want.”

“and miss out on your father’s celebration?”

“there will always be another one.” wonwoo shrugs, looking at you like nothing else in the room matters. he has a little smile playing on his lips that’s far too gentle — you almost feel undeserving of a gaze that loving.

but you don’t hold eye contact with him for long, because the source of all your current problems suddenly walks into the room — and he looks good. criminally good.

the red suit with its low neckline draws even more attention to him than usual, along with several expensive pieces of jewelry adorning his wrists and fingers.

“he’s here? that’s strange. he said he wasn’t coming.” wonwoo mumbles, and you do your best to keep your composure and hide the sudden anxiety that blooms in your chest.

“shame. the party was just getting good.” you scoff to yourself, replacing your empty champagne glass with a full one.

it’s then that mingyu’s eyes find yours, and even while politely saying hello to the elders greeting him, he keeps sneaking a peek your way, as if to try to get away from the people surrounding him to get to you.

oh, fuck no. you’re not in the mood to talk to him right now.

“i’m just gonna go and use the restroom, okay? i’ll be right back.” you say to wonwoo, hoping to find yourself a spot in the shadows where you can properly get some air.

you hardly catch his response as your legs are already moving on their own, as far away from the man in red as possible.

passing through a quiet hallway, you find yourself finally alone at the bottom of a staircase, and with no one else around, you sit down on the first few steps, a sigh escaping your mouth.

“did my appearance surprise you?”

as you recognize his voice, your blood runs cold.

looking behind you, he’s standing at the top of the stairs, his hands in his pockets. he appears surprisingly relaxed, even if his fingers slightly tremble against the fabric of his trousers.

“you have some nerve showing up here.”

mingyu purses his lips. “why don’t you come up a couple steps?”

when you finally meet his gaze, his heart skips a beat. your brows are knitted together. “why would i do that?”

“because we’d be on the same level. equals.”

“is that what you want?”

“i think you already know the answer to that.”

biting your lip to yourself, you get up on your feet, heels clicking on the creaking wood with each step. once at his level, you look at him with hostility – he only shows intrigue.

“why haven’t you given me up yet? it’s been a week.”

“i have my reasons.” you shrug, the anger remaining in your features. “what? scared i’ll ruin your reputation?”

his tone suddenly changes into something more desperate, emotional. “i just want to know what you’re gonna do. if you wanna turn me over to the police, fine. but do something, please—”

“you’re not in a position to be making demands.”

“i’m not demanding, i’m asking.”

“go fuck yourself, mingyu.” you snap at him, looking around you before lowering your voice. “what did you think was going to happen when you came here tonight? that i would just let you in on everything? the last thing i owe you is an explanation.”

as the tension continues to rise between you, the argument causes you to step closer to eachother.

his chest heaves out of frustration, because you make a more than valid point, but he still has his own interests at heart. “i know that.”

“so then why show up tonight? don’t bullshit me, i know you’re not here for wonwoo.”

“are you? what are you doing here?”

“what the hell is your problem?” scoffing at him, you intend to push him by his chest, but he grabs your wrists instead.

“you are my problem.” he breathes out angrily as if he were confessing his sins, his hands remaining on your skin. “everything fell apart because of you.”

“if you’re actually trying to pin this on me, i’ll hit you in your fucking jaw until it bleeds.”

he only pulls you closer. “and i’d let you. do you still not get it?”

his grip on your wrists falters, and he softly rubs over your skin with his finger, and you hate your body for reacting to it.

christ, you think to yourself, has he been standing this close to you this whole time?

the smell of his perfume plagues your senses, and a feeling you can’t quite place washes over you when you catch him looking at your lips, and you realize his one hand is slowly gliding past your waist.

are you really going to let yourself fall into his trap again?

“everything okay?”

the words aren’t uttered by you nor mingyu — wonwoo peers up at you from your former spot at the bottom of the stairs.

of course he’s been sensing that there was something going on between you the moment you showed up at the strip club, but this clearly confuses him, since you’re still supposed to hate one another.

fuck. how much of the conversation did he hear?

mingyu hesitantly releases his hands from your body, and you take a step backwards, both of you focusing on wonwoo. “yeah, i’m fine.”

as if to make the situation even worse, the fucking inspector that’s leading the investigation appears behind wonwoo, curiously looking at his two main suspects standing side by side.

the situation feels suffocating. wonwoo points at the older man, “he was looking for you. that’s why i came to see if you were here — i didn’t know you were, um — occupied.”

“i’m not occupied.” with the way you completely disregard mingyu’s existence, it’s almost as if he weren’t even here. you make your way down the steps, smoothening over the fabric of your dress and taking a deep breath to get a hold of yourself again.

the inspector glances at mingyu one last time before asking you if he can talk to you privately, which you agree to.

mere minutes later, you’re standing in a secluded room, far away from the rest of the crowd, arms crossed over your chest, a dim light flickering on the ceiling above you.

“i wanted to talk about the investigation.”

“talking to me off-record again? this isn’t a good look on you.” you sneer at the man, who puts up his hands before his chest.

“i know. but it’s for a good reason.” he defends himself, at which you frown. “i have a proposition for you.”

“which is?”

“i need your help catching the person who killed your father.”

pursing your lips together, you let out a bitter chuckle. “like i would know anything—”

“you were just speaking to him, actually.”

the weight of his words makes your eyes widen. this is the first time he’s expressing who he believes is the culprit, after all these weeks.

your breath hitches in your throat. “you think mingyu is guilty.”

the inspector nods at the conclusion you’ve drawn. “he’s smart, i’ll give him that. but not invincible.”

“what will you do? do you have evidence against him?”

“i have enough that makes me sure that it was him, but not enough to defeat him in court. he’s rich and uses that to his advantage.” he explains, sounding almost hopeful. “so that’s where you come in.”

“me?”

“what i need is evidence that even he can’t work around, no matter how many people in the system he chooses to bribe. you told me the nature of your relationship was sexual — i don’t need to know if that’s true or not. but i’ve noticed he seems fond of you these days. you can use that to get him caught. we can’t let him get away with it.”

his voice rings through your ears, sounding like a convincing whisper. biting down on your tongue, you clench your fists, the predicament you currently find yourself in making you wish the ground would just swallow you whole.

you subtly glance down at your phone for a moment.

the evidence is right there, on the phone in your hand. you’ve recorded all the tapes with your phone — the confession, murder weapon — it’s all the evidence needed. you could give it right now and everything would be over.

yet not a single word comes out of your mouth.

the inspector sighs, offering you a final sentiment. “be careful with him. people can be deceiving.”

and with that, he exits the room, leaving you alone with the voice in your head.

your next moves are crucial. you know what you’re about to do is risky, but it’ll be worth it. it has to be worth it.

once you’ve left the inside of the estate through the backdoor, the event continues for the evening while you ponder over the choice you’re about to make in the backseat of the cab.

shrugging off your coat as you enter your home, you still in your movements when your eyes find the stairs — the spot where the police had to cut down your father’s cold, dead body.

with your gaze remaining on the former crime scene, you press on mingyu’s number to call it.

he picks up faster than lightning, but you don’t allow him to speak.

“meet me in the city tomorrow. 10:30, outside your mother’s firm. don’t be late.”

you hang up right after.

fuck, you should really sell this place. the fact that your father’s wandered around here is more than enough reason.

that he died here as well isn’t great either, but that’s really a minor detail.

with your arms crossed, you scoff, a half-smile that’s almost smug sitting on your face. “if only your death had welcomed us sooner.”

the next morning, you lean your head against the wall of the building you’re meeting at, a cold wind blowing through your hair as you’re sunken deeply into thought.

it’s comfortably quiet, honestly. you’re fond of this type of weather, the white, grey-ish sky, the breeze in the air, some rain on occasion.

you glance at the watch on your wrist — why the fuck is mingyu still not here? what possible reason could he have to be late when this is what he was practically begging for?

just as you’re about to grab your phone from your pocket to call him, someone pulls you by your arm and drags you into the alley beside the building.

“what the fuck!?” you huff out, and then you finally get a good look at the person who grabbed you.

of course it’s him.

“i’m sorry.” mingyu breathes out, his usually neatly styled hair now messy, several strands hanging loose in front of his forehead, the stress visible in his features.

to be together like this feels messy yet weirdly intimate. a few strands of your hair are caught between your lips, and you feel his breath on your face, his hands on your body, even your hands find their way back to him.

as if it’s natural.

“what the hell are you thinking?!” you hiss at him, pushing his hands off you, backing yourself as far up against the wall as possible.

“someone was following me, i was — i thought you’d lured me here to turn me in.”

“you—” is all you can push out of your throat before a sigh leaves you. of course he’d think that. god, what a mess.

burying your face in your hands, it feels like you’re both on the verge of a complete breakdown. both lost, not sure where to go, not sure what’ll happen next.

you thought you’d found a sense of direction in eachother, but that fell apart like a house of cards hit by the wind.

naturally, it begins to rain right when you’re talking to him outside. sighing to yourself, you gesture for him to come with you to your car in the half-empty parking lot, which he wordlessly agrees with.

it’s pouring by the time you’re both seated, the heavy rain rolling down the glass windows of the car.

it’s completely silent between you as you sit beside one another, staring dead ahead at the street.

your voice is hoarse when you tell him your verdict on the matter.

“we’re gonna cover it up.”

mingyu turns his head to look at you in disbelief, but you don’t move a muscle. “… what?”

“i believe i’ve told you i don’t like to repeat myself.”

“no one in their right mind would do that. no one would help me cover it up.” he exhales, eyes moving rapidly as he tries to process what you’re proposing to him.

“no one in their right mind would commit murder, either, but that certainly didn’t stop you.”

well, you have a point there.

“just tell me one thing,” mingyu asks, hoping you’ll look at him, “why? why do this for me?”

he could cry the moment you do meet his eyes. it’s like he sees a different version of himself staring back at him. “because you did the right thing. i would’ve done the same. well, except for your little affair with me.”

with his heart beating against his chest, he gently touches your hand. “everything i told you was true. it may not have been real in the beginning, and i’m sorry for pretending back then, but it’s real now. i swear that to you.”

you bite your lip. “give me one good reason why i should believe you.”

mingyu can taste his tears at this point. he needs you to believe him, he needs you — and that is terrifying but addictive. “the tapes. you can have them if you want.”

“i don’t need them. they hold no value to me.” you already made copies of them anyway.

“then what can i give you to prove myself?”

“nothing.” you immediately cut him off, eyes blazing fire, but even mingyu can see you do share that sadness that he does, mourning the loss of your connection. “from now on, we avoid contact over the phone as much as possible. you’ll destroy the tapes, the poison — get rid of all of it. we’ll work together until we’ve covered it up, and after that, it’ll be like whatever we had never existed. we’ll be nothing more than strangers to one another.”

“how on earth would we go back to strangers after what we did?”

“by never talking to eachother again.” you respond, swallowing the rising lump in your throat, fingers twitching from feeling suffocated. “get out. you can come over to my place tomorrow, and we’ll… figure out how to handle everything.”

mingyu looks at you, and he knows you won’t let him in again, certainly not now. so he nods.

he thinks of what to say, yet nothing comes out.

so he leaves you in your car without saying another word, walking away with nothing but his mistakes on his mind.

xi. I HATE YOU LIKE MY OWN REFLECTION

“so, what do we do now?”

“our best shot is to try to frame someone else, then take them out of prison after the conviction and pay ‘em good money for it.”

mingyu cocks a brow at your choice. “so you wanna go and do the exact same thing i wanted to do?”

you can’t help but glare at him. “yes, just without the manipulation. don’t think for a second i’ve forgiven you, or that i will in the nearby future, because i can assure you that won’t happen.”

well, so much for trying to get into your good graces again. “noted. so, how do we, um… find a suitable victim? someone who won’t rat us out.”

“my contact in the police force has sent me a list of all the other suspects. we pick someone, threaten to kill them if they don’t cooperate. easy.”

mingyu finds your lack of filter both intriguing and scary, like a switch was flipped and you’re suddenly ready to undertake even more violent measures than him. but then again, he was hiding quite some things too. “okay.”

it’s two days later when you’re holding a now former member of the housekeeping hostage in your spacious private parking garage.

“you can’t make me do this! this is insane!” he cries out, and you roll your eyes, holding the gun in your hand as easily as you’d carry a bottle of water.

you simply shrug. “it’s not impossible.”

“i’ll lose everything!”

“probably. but you’ll also gain a lot of money, enough to get you a comfortable life elsewhere in the world.”

“no, no, i’m not doing this. you can’t make me!”

mingyu looks to you for permission, you grant it with a nod, and he takes your gun to hit the guy in the face with it. you sink down to bend your knees, lowering to your victim’s level.

“i don’t think you get it. either you agree to do this, or you’re not making it out of these walls alive. trust me, if i have to shoot you, i will.” you sternly tell him, attitude changing from casual to threatening.

your partner in crime, who’s still holding the gun, is beyond impressed. he briefly thinks it over —has this part of you always been hiding underneath the surface?

“or maybe it’s your family i should start with? i’ll pick it apart, one by one.” you suggest, feigning innocence in your voice.

it’s then that the man is finally forced to accept your offer, after which you smile triumphantly and tell him he can go home like nothing happened. mingyu watches the change in your behavior, leaving him wondering how the hell you’re the same person he’s come to know over the past months.

but it hardly changes his now deeply-rooted affection for you.

a few days later, you’ve successfully orchestrated your plan and set it in motion, with the man from housekeeping supposedly coming forward with his confession tomorrow.

it’s late at night when mingyu’s still over at your house, and he asks if he can open the bottle of vodka standing on the counter.

“sure. whatever.” you mutter, the stand-offish demeanor you used to hold up around him before getting to know him having returned.

he doesn’t like it. no, scratch that — he can’t stand it.

so he pours you both a shot. “i’ve been thinking about something.”

“well, that must’ve been exhausting for you.”

hilarious. really. he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “in the car, you said i did the right thing. that you would’ve done the same.”

“and?”

“do you really not… hate me for killing him? at all?”

“no.”

“you hate me for… lying to you about it.”

“no.”

his brows knit together. “so…”

“again, don’t take this as a compliment, but i really thought you were smarter than this.”

“i’m just… confused on your stance on the whole thing. that’s all.”

taking a breath, a bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. “i hate it when people make fun of me, like — that’s the worst thing you could do to me. and you tried to get to know me, work with me, pretended to care for me, all while secretly knowing that it wasn’t genuine and you were going to put me in prison. and after i found out, it felt like you were just ridiculing me, for… i don’t know. giving in to you so easily. for being desperate to have at least one person actually care about me the way i thought you did.”

he processes your words with the heavy burden of guilt weighing on his shoulders, while you take another shot of alcohol.

well, he fucked up. miserably.

“when i created the plan to frame you, i… almost held a grudge towards you, like you did to me, for a reason i couldn’t even think of. i was going to be putting someone i hated in prison. a sacrifice i was willing to make for the people i loved. but you completely blew me away. as time progressed, i… couldn’t fathom i used to hate you, or even disliked you. even if you don’t accept my apology, i need you to know that i never… never made fun of you. and i’m sorry for hurting you in the way that i did.”

his heartfelt sentiment gets to you, and you hate it.

“even if i did accept your apology, what then? we’ll just move on with our lives as if this whole thing never happened either way.”

now that you’ve unintentionally given him a sense of hope, he downs another shot of vodka to give himself courage. “it doesn’t have to be like that.”

“what?”

“i still want you.” he breathes out, mentally saying fuck it and deciding to finally be completely honest with you.

the words seem to have caught you off-guard, after which you scoff at him once you realize what he’s saying. “you’re not serious.”

“i am,” he replies without hesitation, following you in your tracks when you stand up, “and you know what i think? you still like me, too.”

“no i don’t.”

now that you’ve turned around to him, you realize how stupid of a move it was to do so. with every step he takes forward, you go back, but there’s only so much room before you hit the wall. “you’re not being very convincing.”

“gyu—”

“i like it when you call me that.”

at a loss for words, you look behind you to find you’re nearly out of space. “i don’t like you.”

“and here i thought we were both being honest with eachother.”

god, all he does is look at you and you feel willing to let him touch you again. he made you feel so good — you liked him so much.

mingyu feels it. he sees you fighting with yourself in your head, so he figures all you need is just a little push to get you back where he had you, to be able to kiss you and hold you and call you his.

with his left hand, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and within a second, he’s pushed his mouth against yours.

fuck, it’s been only two long weeks since he last kissed you, but it felt like forever. this feeling, his touch — you doubt you’d ever be able to feel that with anyone else.

but something in you is still fighting back.

you muster the will to push mingyu away, and he licks his lips from the gloss on yours. both of you panting heavily, you shake your head. “no. we’re not doing this.”

“what? something we both want?” he breathes out, chest heaving up and down.

“something we shouldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because i’d never forgive myself for giving in to the guy who was gonna frame me for murder.”

he merely shrugs, downplaying the situation for his selfish interests. “we hated each other back then. you’d have done it too, you said it yourself.”

his words are true — but it still hurts.

“you’re a liar.” you say to him, and he knows you’re only saying it for one reason — to convince yourself to not give in to what you really want.

“yeah. and so are you.”

that is what momentarily causes your brain to shut down. “what?”

his hand cups your jaw. you can feel his breath on your bare skin, his gaze on your body, shamelessly checking you out before he meets your eyes again. “what we had was real. you make everyone else in my life seem like… nothing.”

“oh, so i’m special, huh? or are you just trying to get back into my good graces so i don’t rat you out?”

his eyes keep lingering on the skin of your cheeks, your neck, exposed collarbones, and he doesn’t even look you in the eye while answering. “you can do whatever you want. i’ll still want you once i’ve gotten out of prison.”

god. he’s really that into you?

“gyu…” you mutter, almost pouting, and he holds your face, nodding as if he understands.

“i know, i know—” his breathing is unsteady as he confesses every dirty little sin on his conscience, “i like being a little selfish, y’know? even when one of my friends mentioned something about liking you, i didn’t tell you, ‘cause i wanted you.”

you’ve got a feeling who he’s talking about. “so what’d you say to him?”

“i said you had something going on with someone else, which wasn’t exactly a lie, since you were on top of me that same night.” he barely allows himself to finish the sentence before kissing you again, putting all his vigor into it, and you decide to indulge both him and yourself this once.

he pushes you up against the wall, and you shove him away again, holding onto the cupboard beside you when you both catch your breath.

“what if i like him better than you?”

“you wouldn’t.”

“why? ‘cause you’re so likeable?”

“because he’d never accept you for who you really are, and you’d find him boring,” he tells you as a possessive streak overcomes him, “just like no other girl would ever want me and i only want you.”

“so i should let you have me because no one else will. what a compelling argument.”

“no. because you want me.” fucking hell, he’s pretty sure his sex drive has never been this high before. “so have me, baby. please — i’m all yours.” he rasps, pressing a kiss so chaste to your lips, they barely touch. his hands burn on your skin.

“maybe i will.” you mumble, which elicits the smallest smirk from him.

he rubs up against you. “you make me insane.”

“pretty sure you already were.” is the last thing you say before kissing him, finally giving in to the feelings you still hold for him.

the sudden motion takes him by surprise, but he regains his composure to kiss you back within seconds. you make him feel so sickeningly good, he practically worships the ground you walk on.

mingyu is always tactile, be it with his friends, family, or in this case — you. his hands are practically glued to your body, pulling you as close to him as possible.

and normally he likes to take his time when it comes to sex. but he’s just so hot right now that he needs some kind of friction, some kind of release. so he lifts you up to take you to your bedroom, where he wastes no time to plunge his fingers into you.

“fuck—gyu—”

this is all he wants. to hear you moan his name like that and watch you writhe underneath him while his cock throbs as he rubs it against the bed.

“you look so pretty like this.” he grins, curling his fingers to watch you squirm and feel you clench around him.

jesus, his pace is high. higher than any other time he’s done this before. the pressure in your stomach builds so fast that you’re almost overwhelmed by the feeling, at which you instinctively reach down to hold his wrist, but to no avail, because he keeps going.

“say you like me back and i’ll make you cum.”

even through the pleasure he’s giving you, you manage to pull your mean attitude back up. “are you that desperate?”

not only does he seem completely unaffected by the snark in your voice — he might even like it.

“so what if i am?” he shrugs, his fingers moving in and out of you while he kisses and sucks on the skin of your neck.

when he moves onto your jaw, he suddenly hits the right spot inside you, and your eyes roll back, a dragged-out moan escaping you.

“bet that feels good, hm?” he whispers, his fangs showing when he smiles slyly, “c’mon — say it. i’ll make you feel so good, baby.”

right after the words come out of his mouth, he threatens to take his fingers out, and you grab his wrist once more, this time to keep him as close as possible.

“fine — i like you.”

like a war general who just won his greatest battle, he’s beaming at your confession. “good. put your legs over my shoulders.”

well, he certainly is determined. he’s back in his previous position in no-time, now with your legs up, and you try to not clench your thighs around his head too much as his digits piston in and out of your hole.

your orgasm hits you within what feels like a minute, and mingyu keeps going even when your legs are shaking and trembling on his shoulders.

the drag of his cock inside you is heavenly. he’s a big man, and you always need to adjust yourself to him, but fuck is it good.

you always like the slower strokes best, he’s learned. slow and deep, to make you feel every inch of him, and he can bury himself in you to the hilt every single time.

“god, you’re always so tight.” he has to suck through gritted teeth to not completely lose it, ‘cause you’re clenching down on him so much that it almost hurts.

“that’s ‘cause you don’t fuck me enough.”

“we should fix that, then.” he responds, sliding his cock in and out of the pooling wetness between your legs, and as the minutes go by, you continue to find yourself in his arms, your body plastered on his.

it’s the ringing of your phone from the nightstand that pulls you out of the erotic haze.

mingyu turns his head to the side, the dark strands of hair hanging beside his head as he’s still hovering above you.

his chest still heaves when he picks up the device to show you the caller id. “you never did tell me what he wanted to talk to you about.”

all you can do is chuckle — a sound that comes across as if you know more than he does. “he’s onto you. thinks you’re guilty. not far from the truth, is he?”

throwing your phone to the other side of the bed, he pushes himself a little deeper into you, loving the way you have to bite your lip to suppress a whimper. “and he wanted you to give him evidence, i bet.”

“he did.”

“did you?”

“since you still have the freedom to fuck me — take a wild guess.”

this time it’s him who lets out an arrogant laugh. “i knew you liked me too much.”

“i could still do it, y’know.”

“oh, i know you could.” he bites his lower lip before kissing you so vigorously again — as if you’re the air he breathes.

xii. ROUGH HEWN BY UNFORTUNATE EVENTS, AND GIVEN BREATH BY NECESSITY

with the noise of the fireplace crackling, you stand by the window of your mansion’s spacious living room, staring outside as you’re anxiously rubbing your fingers over your collarbone.

the man you and mingyu forced to act like he was guilty of murdering your father has supposedly confessed yesterday morning, and yet you’ve still heard nothing. which is strange.

extremely strange.

“they could still be interrogating him.” mingyu tries to ease both your and his own nerves, but you shake your head, your back still facing him.

“something’s wrong. if it were convincing enough, i would’ve heard something. fuck.”

he gets up from the soft couch to wrap his arms around you from behind. “we just gotta be a little more patient. the guy knows what’s at stake should he mess it up.”

letting out a sigh, you nod. “yeah, i guess you’re right.”

just when he’s pressed a kiss on the top of your head, the doorbell rings — whoever that may be.

mingyu remains in his spot by the window while you go ahead to check who’s visiting you. your breath is almost stolen completely from you once you see who it is.

“coming to visit me at this hour?”

the inspector gives you a fake smile in return. “it’s important.”

so you let him in, keeping up the nonchalance in your attitude. mingyu raises a brow at the older man walking into the room, and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“i had someone coming into the station yesterday — one of your father’s former staff. he confessed to the murder.” the inspector begins. “unfortunately for him, i said i’d already figured out who the culprit was, and so i sent him back home.”

“someone confessed and you didn’t think about telling us?” mingyu questions angrily, and you really have to force yourself not to show how impressed you are with his acting skills.

the other man in the room is less impressed. “why would i tell you something you’re already aware of? you orchestrated it.”

oh, shit.

as your eyes widen, it’s quiet for a moment.

“i really hope you have actual proof to back this accusation.” mingyu sneers, clearly hostile towards the man while you silently take a few steps back, slowly hiding yourself more in the shadows by the walls.

“traces of poison were found in the reports of the autopsy. it was disregarded at first because of the small amount, but i eventually began to consider it evidence when i discovered you recently purchased that exact formula from a dealer who’s been on our radar for a while.”

the hairs on your neck suddenly stand upright. is this it? is the person you’ve grown so attached to actually going to get arrested?

“thing is, if i were to arrest you, you’d probably be let go. i know you both have contacts in the police force as well as the justice system, i almost caught someone messing with the autopsy results — but despite that, i know the truth.” the man nods to himself. “and that is, mr. kim, that the only charge against you is attempted murder.”

mingyu seems confused. “attempted?”

“the poison didn’t kill him. you’re guilty of something, definitely, but you’re no murderer.” the inspector’s gaze suddenly shifts from your partner to you, a deep frown setting into your forehead. “the only player in this game that wasn’t making any sense to me was you.”

“me?”

“you know, in my many years in this line of work, i’ve found it a rarity to have a suspect possessing such an… inscrutible expectant stillness. the gears in your head are constantly turning, but no one’s really sure what it is that goes up in there. you’re an enigma.” he says to you, and you listen to him with a raised brow.

as you remain silent, he continues. “at the event a few weeks ago, when i spoke with you, i came to you and told you i suspected him to be the culprit — the man you’ve hated from day one. the opportunity to make him go away was practically given to you, yet you did nothing with it.”

scoffing at him in disbelief, you tilt your head. “that’s all you have against me? baseless speculation?”

“not exactly baseless. see, the autopsy report showed one more thing — he was choked before the hanging. your father was unconscious before you put that rope around his neck.”

it’s so quiet, you’re pretty sure the two men in the room are able to hear your heartbeat at this point.

mingyu turns to look at you with a puzzled expression, and you finally decide to drop the façade you’ve upheld for so long.

“oh, so what?” you shrug, finding the accusation bothersome at best.

the sudden change in demeanor catches mingyu completely off-guard. he can’t fully comprehend what’s going on here. “you—you killed him?”

you press your lips together. “whatever you used on him wasn’t enough to kill him, but it was enough to make him violent. he came home that night just—fucking losing it. stumbling over everything, his eyes were all red, and he yelled at me because he thought i was the one who poisoned him. ‘cause naturally, he’d never suspect you. my father was one to hit me on the cheek whenever he was really angry with me, but he’d never gone further than that. the poison must’ve worked him up so much that he lost rational thinking. so he began to accuse me of trying to kill him, after which he tried to choke me, but i managed to throw him off, and he passed out. and i figured it’d been enough of his torture, so… i hung him in the stairwell to make it seem like a suicide.”

the inspector nods knowingly. “you murdered him in cold blood.”

you’re quick to respond with your defense, though you don’t really care anymore. “did you not hear the part where he tried to kill me?”

mingyu looks like a kicked puppy when he processes your confession. “so you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

the words elicit a scoff. “that’s real bold, coming from you.”

“but you—you agreed to help me figure out who your father’s killer was. why would you do that if you did it?”

“at first i didn’t, as you know, but you were just so fucking persistent. so i figured i could try to divert your attention from me. i was going to convince you that it was a suicide. then i hear the tapes, you admitting that you poisoned him, and everything made sense. but hey, at least i wasn’t trying to frame you.”

the jab directed at him makes him feel guilty again. “so we both did it.”

“in a way. though i’d argue it was somewhat self-defense. i mean, he came onto me, tried to kill me—”

“you made a mistake and you know it.” the inspector interrupts, making you roll your eyes as he scolds you. “you should’ve called the police. but you didn’t, you just decided to hang him instead!”

“he deserved it!” you retort, displaying the clear hatred you’ve always felt towards anyone who tried to defend the man who raised you. “i don’t care what you think. and you said it yourself — i have everyone in the justice system on my payroll, if necessary. threatening to kill a family member or two also works like a charm.”

it’s silent for a few seconds after you’ve revealed this side of your true nature, and the man just stares you in the eye before grabbing a device from his backpocket.

when he clicks on the button, you already know what it is.

he recorded the whole conversation, and you already know he can’t be bribed, so this is a real problem — because it’s the one piece of evidence needed that will destroy you both.

“you do realize how stupid it was to come here alone, right?” you ask rhetorically.

“what, will you kill me too?” he asks, and when both you and mingyu deadpan a stare at him, he knows the answer.

he’s not getting out of this room alive unless he forfeits the recording.

when you and your partner in crime exchange a glance, the inspector attempts to make a run for it, only to be tackled by mingyu once he’s reached the door.

one last sacrifice.

the sound of a blade piercing through skin makes you jump, your fingers twitching.

blood begins to trickle down his body, after which mingyu pulls out the knife and pushes it in once more, higher up in the chest this time.

“oh, jesus—fuck!” you gasp to yourself when you feel the bloodsplatters hitting your face and neck, and mingyu rips the blade from the inspector’s body, letting it fall onto the carpeted floor.

you both stare at the freshly created crime scene, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, mostly just annoyed at having another crime on your hands.

“well, that is unfortunate.” mingyu sighs, after which you press your lips together, looking up at him.

“understatement of the year. did you have to stab him that quick?”

“sweetheart, he would’ve locked us both away if i didn’t.”

“i guess so.” locking the front door to ensure no one can enter, you cross your arms. “so. are we burning, burying or dumping him in a lake?”

mingyu stares at the body on the floor before locking eyes with you, and it’s like making a silent deal — that you’re in this mess together, and only together can you come out of it, as bloody and violent that road may turn out to be.

well, at the end of the day, you suppose your father was right about one little thing.

you and kim mingyu are, indeed, good together. just not in the exact way he imagined.

after all, love can exist even in the murderous heart.

thanks for reading! let me know if you enjoyed it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[thatdesigirl17]

you and i

toxic!theo x fem!reader

kinda inspired by the song you&I by one direction

warnings: theo being toxic and manipulative, slight angst, theo may seem a bit possessive and territorial

It had been going on for months now. The constant fighting, the making up, the arguing again, it had converted into a cycle with Theo. Today, another misunderstanding led Theo to storm out of Y/N’s dorm, leaving her alone to dwell in her frustration and sadness. It had become excessively frustrating for Y/N, the way Theo would never listen to her, would never talk things out. He would always avoid the conversation, he had become an expert really in getting out of it. Her friends had started to tell her that this was toxic, that he wasn't good for her. That was what had started the argument this time, her friends 'interfering' in their relationship as Theo had phrased it. Y/N sat on the ground, her knees tucked in her arms towards her chest, her chin resting on them, as she thought over her relationship with Theo. She loved him, and he always seemed to know what exactly to say to win her again but it was getting exhausting to be like this. 

The door to her dorm opened slowly, pausing her thoughts midway as she looked up to see who it was. Theo, of course. He was standing there with a bouquet and a small carry bag in his bag. The slightest bit of a smirk appeared on his face as he took in the sight of her. 

‘What do you want?’, Y/N asked slowly, her voice low, her words making him frown slightly. ‘Bella, I shouldn’t have fought with you like that. You know I love you right?’, he said, coming closer to her. He handed out the bouquet of white lilies, her favourites, to her. It was neatly packed in brown paper, tied securely with a white ribbon, the arrangement of lilies done with white orchids and baby's breath. 

'Theo...', she sighed accepting the bouquet and placing it next to her on the floor. He crouched down beside her, setting the other bag on the floor. She shifted her position on the floor, crossing her legs, sitting up straighter to face him. 'Why do you always have to avoid talking things out? It’ll just be so much better for the both of us.’, she started, trying to get him to talk, her hand on his forearm. ‘Cara, please, let’s just forget about it okay? Both of us said things we didn’t mean.’, he said, his voice silky smooth. Y/N looked at him, knowing that he couldn’t get out of talking this time that easily, Theo sat down in front of her, cupping her cheek and caressing it gently. 

‘Cara mia…’, he started, his eyes pleading and full of sincerity, ‘I know we have been arguing a lot lately, but we love each other more than that. I know you think your friends are right, but they don't know anything about us, about how we make this relationship work. Did they ever fight like us? Did they ever hold each other like us? We see things differently, amore, but we try, like no one ever has and that’s what makes us special. That’s what makes us stronger.’ 

Y/N looked at him feeling herself get swayed by his words again. No matter how hard she tried, she knew he loved her and she loved him. She knew she would go back to him, he would make her come back. 

‘Y/N…’, he said in a soft voice. Her name on his lips further crumbled her doubts about him. ‘Amore mia, we can make it till the end, till we are one. I know it, I believe in us. Nothing has come between you and I, definitely not some silly argument like this. Do you believe in me? In us?’ 

Theo looked at her, his eyes full of hope. Y/N nodded, making Theo smile, as he leaned in, pulled her closer and kissed her. It was soft and passionate. ‘That’s my girl.’, he smiled pulling away, 'Promise me you won't let anyone get to your head again.' 

He held her gaze, searching her eyes for any reaction. Y/N nodded slowly, her hand coming up to rest on his wrist and caress him reassuringly, a small smile breaking out on her face. Her words made him grin, as he gave her a quick peck on the lips, before continuing, ‘I planned to take you out on a nice dinner tonight, and then give you this, but I think here will have to do.’  He turned slightly, picking up the bag that rested on the floor, beside them. 

He handed her the bag and she opened it carefully to reveal a square, red box that read ‘Cartier’ in neat cursive. She looked at him a bit surprised as she opened the box. In the box, laid a beautiful bracelet made of white gold and diamonds, the classic Cartier design. ‘My god Theo, this is beautiful. It must have cost a lot, you didn’t have to do this.’, Y/N said, her fingers gently tracing the piece of jewellery. ‘Anything for you, cara. Don’t worry about anything and let me put it on, yeah?’, he smiled. 

He gently picked up the bracelet, opened the clasp and then put it on her left wrist. He then pulled up a small driver out of the pocket of his jacket as Y/N eyed him with confusion. 

He chuckled, ‘It’s a Cartier love bracelet, Bella.’ He tightened the bracelet with the driver and caressed it on her wrist. The sight made him smirk softly. Holding her hand, he brought it up and kissed her knuckles. ‘It can’t be taken off without the driver. You’ll wear this forever now, as a symbol of our love.’, he explained, her eyes widening in surprise. Before she could say anything, he continued, his voice soft but firm, ‘Nothing can separate you and I now, amore, not even the gods. I’m gonna throw the driver in the Black Lake so that it’s always there on your wrist. You’re mine, Y/N, forever.’ 

[wholoveseggs]

Can I request a one shot with the one and only Elijah? He and reader know each other for years but since she is human he never made a move. She overhears Klaus nagging Elijah about being smitten with her and she confronts him and he is obviously in denial, reader tells him to man up for once and he shows her how much men he is? With Consent of course. Would love reading something like this, you are my go to fix for my Elijah obsession

Snow Day

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A rare snowstorm blankets New Orleans, and the Mikaelsons revel in the icy chaos. But as Klaus pushes Elijah to confront his feelings for you, the heat between you two threatens to outshine the storm.

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon!! This was partly inspired by Louisiana getting snow for the first time in over 20 years!!! (yikes the planet is on fire)~ ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smutttt, rough sex (He just scoops you up and has his way with you), oral sex (f!receiving), praise kink, shamelessly using this fic to explore Elijah talking you through it (hot), tiny bit of angst, child Hope being adorable, snowball fights, Klaus being Klaus, magical snow forts and a hint of hot chocolate...

The world outside was unrecognizable. Snow blanketed the streets of New Orleans in a thick, pristine layer, muffling the usual lively sounds of the city. It was almost surreal, like waking up in a dream.

You rubbed your hands together for warmth as you stood at the window of the Mikaelson compound, marveling at the sight. The night before, a snowstorm had hit with an intensity no one had expected. It hadn't snowed in Louisiana since 2004. Now, with nearly ten inches of snow on the ground, you were effectively snowed in.

Not that you minded. The compound was warm and cozy, a fire crackling in pretty much every single room. Still, being cooped up had a way of making you restless, your thoughts wandering far too easily to things you shouldn’t dwell on—like your relationship with Elijah.

You had been friends with him for years, but something about the way he carried himself, the quiet strength he exuded, had always drawn you in, leaving you wanting more. 

Lately, though, there had been a shift. His gaze lingered a little longer, his touches felt a little more intentional. You weren’t blind to it, but Elijah was a master of control. Whatever feelings he might have, he kept them locked away, hidden beneath his stoic demeanor.

It made you sad, the way he denied himself any sort of affection. He always pushed away those he loved the most, it was a bad habit he had yet to break.

With a sigh, you turned from the window and made your way upstairs. You had barely reached the top of the stairs when the sound of raised voices reached your ears.

You headed to the balcony, looking down into the courtyard where Hayley and Rebekah were wrangling Hope into a snow suit. A task that the two immortal creatures seemed to be struggling with, much to the little girl’s amusement.

"Can we go now?" Hope demanded, wiggling out of Rebekah's hold. "I want to make a snowman!"

"Soon," Hayley promised, pulling a large warm hat over her daughter's ears. "We have to finish bundling you up first."

"Let me," Elijah said, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor, crouching down in front of Hope.

The little girl huffed, but she stilled as Elijah gently adjusted her coat and scarf. "You must not rush, little one. Proper preparation will ensure you can enjoy the snow without discomfort," he said, his hands moving with care as he buttoned her coat and smoothed the scarf into place.

"Uncle ‘lijah, I can do it!" Hope protested, though there was no real frustration in her tone.

"I have no doubt," Elijah replied with a small smile, "but would it not be faster if I helped? The snow is waiting, after all."

Hope considered his words for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Okay, but only because I want to go faster."

"Of course," Elijah said, his voice soft with amusement. He worked quickly but carefully, ensuring everything was just right. Finally, he held up her mittens. "Now for the finishing touch."

"My hands are going to sweat," Hope muttered, wrinkling her nose as she reluctantly let him slip the mittens over her small hands.

"They’ll thank you once you’re outside," Elijah said, rising to his full height and brushing a stray curl from her face. "There. You’re ready."

Hope beamed up at him. "Thank you, Uncle ‘lijah!" she said, throwing her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly.

"You're welcome, little one," Elijah replied, returning the embrace, the tenderness on his face making your heart ache.

Kol burst into the courtyard then, an excited grin on his face. He was wrapped up in a giant scarf, his coat buttoned all the way up, and his cheeks were rosy.

"Come on, Hope, hurry!" He urged. "I just finished building the best snow fort. It's big enough for the both of us. I know you like to hide in snow forts and scare people, right?"

Hope's eyes lit up, and she released Elijah, running toward Kol and latching onto his hand. "I love snow forts! Let's go, Uncle Kol!"

"That's my girl!" Kol said, leading her toward the doors. "We're going to have a ball, aren't we, Hope?"

"Yes!" Hope said, bouncing along beside him.

The rest of the family trailed behind, Hayley and Rebekah already discussing plans for getting some hot chocolate later.

"Well, look at you, being the best uncle," Klaus said, clapping Elijah on the back with a smile on his face. Although there was a tiny hint of jealousy in his tone.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics, heading down the stairs to join them.

"She makes it easy," Elijah said, a fond smile playing at his lips as he watched his family depart.

His gaze drifted to you, his smile growing a little as his eyes met yours. You felt your cheeks flush and averted your eyes, trying not to be so obvious.

"Are you joining us?" He asked, his voice smooth and rich like the expensive whiskey he often favored.

Klaus was pulling on his large coat and scarf, his expression smug as he watched the two of you. A familiar mischievous glint entered his eye, and you braced yourself for whatever he was about to say.

Instead, he didn't say a word, his expression shifting to something close to a smirk as he looked at his older brother. His silence was worse, and the air felt thick with anticipation.

"I don't know, I'm not a big fan of the cold," you said, glancing toward the door where the others had left.

"Oh, c'mon, just for a little while," Klaus cajoled, wrapping a scarf around his neck. "Elijah will miss you if you aren't there."

The heat rose in your cheeks and you cleared your throat, unable to come up with a response.

Elijah shot him a look, grabbing his own outerwear, a long, black, impeccably tailored wool coat and matching scarf. He looked like he belonged on a fashion runway, not traipsing through the snow.

"If the lady does not wish to join, she doesn't have to," he said, his voice level.

"It would be a shame to miss this rare beauty, wouldn't it?" Klaus asked, gesturing to the world outside.

"It's a blizzard," you deadpanned.

"In Louisiana." Klaus grinned. "It's the sort of thing you'll look back on and remember for centuries. And, besides, Hope would love to see you. Don't you want to make a snow angel with her?"

"Fine. But if I get hypothermia, I'm coming for you." You glared at him.

Klaus grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and sauntered out the door.

You pulled on your jacket and scarf, not quite as fashionable as Elijah's, and popped a beanie over your hair. You glanced at him, taking in his refined, handsome appearance.

"Thanks for waiting for me," you said softly, slipping your feet into your boots and tugging on your gloves.

"I don't mind," Elijah said. He gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"

You nodded and led the way out of the compound. As soon as the cold air hit you, you shivered, a gust of wind biting through your layers.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, his brows furrowing.

"I'm fine," you insisted, even as another shiver coursed through your body. "Let's just get this over with."

"As you wish." He smiled.

You walked beside him, following the path the others had taken. It was quiet, the world blanketed in white. Tiny snowflakes fluttered down from the sky, dancing lazily around you. The street was empty, the storm keeping most people indoors.

You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and joyful conversation, and the image of Hope's excited smile came to mind. She was a delight, a true ray of sunshine in an often bleak world.

You glanced up at Elijah, admiring his profile. There was a softness in his features that was so rare. He looked peaceful. Little snowflakes sticking to his eyelashes, his cheeks pink from the cold.

You turned your gaze forward, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest. You had always found him attractive, but lately, it was becoming impossible to ignore.

Kol had indeed built an impressive fort, so impressive in fact, that there must have been a bit of magic involved. The snow sparkled unnaturally, as if dusted with tiny crystals, and the walls were impossibly smooth, their edges glowing faintly in the sunlight. 

Hope was hiding inside, giggling madly as Rebekah crouched near the entrance, watching her with a wide smile on her face. Hayley and Klaus were sitting on the bench, chatting idly, while Kol was working on sculpting a large snowball.

Hope jumped out from behind the wall, throwing a snowball at Kol's back.

"Hope!" Kol cried, turning around as he grasped at his back dramatically.

The little girl laughed gleefully and disappeared behind the wall once again.

You smiled, watching the exchange. The sight was so normal, almost mundane. It was strange, seeing the Mikaelsons acting so human.

Hayley joined in on the snowball fight, scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at Kol. Her aim was true, and it hit him square in the chest.

"Oof," Kol groaned, clutching his chest. "I've been shot."

He toppled over into the snow, laying perfectly still.

Hope squealed, jumping up and running over to him. "Uncle Kol!"

Rebekah snorted, crossing her arms. "You've died. Again. Typical."

Kol cracked open one eye and smirked, grabbing Hope's legs and dragging her down with him.

"Nooo!" She shrieked, giggling wildly as she struggled to get away.

Elijah watched them, a fond smile playing at his lips. It was such a small thing, but it sent warmth rushing through you.

"It's good to see them having fun," he said, his voice quiet.

"Yeah," you agreed, your eyes still on him. "Are you having fun?"

He paused, considering the question. Then he knelt down, scooping up a handful of snow and shaping it. "I suppose so," he said, smiling up at you.

Your heart stuttered at the sight. His gaze was soft, affectionate, and you felt like you could get lost in those dark, soulful eyes.

Then he threw the snowball at you, the icy projectile hitting you square in the face.

The contact was so surprising, so unexpected, that it took a moment to process what had happened. When it finally sank in, you could only stare at him.

Elijah's eyes widened, his face the picture of innocence. "I'm sorry, did I hit you?"

You couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, Mikaelson," you warned, crouching down and gathering snow into your hands.

Elijah's smile grew wider, a playful challenge in his eyes. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear," he said, scooping up more snow.

You tossed your own snowball at him, aiming for his face.

He ducked, faster than humanly possible and the snowball sailed harmlessly past him.

"Hey! That's cheating!" You cried, gathering more snow.

"There are no rules in snowball fights, darling," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice.

Klaus had joined the fray now, launching a barrage of snowballs at Elijah, while Hayley, Hope and Rebekah were targeting Kol.

You ducked and dodged, trying to avoid the flying snow, while attempting to take out Elijah.

His movements were quick, calculated, and it seemed like no matter how fast you moved, he was always one step ahead.

He was standing a few feet away, a playful grin on his face. It was the first time you'd ever seen him act so carefree, and it was infectious.

"C'mon, darling," he teased, "you'll have to do better than that."

You let out a huff, gathering more snow and shaping it into a tight ball. This time, you managed to hit him, the snow exploding against his shoulder.

"Impressive," he said, his tone light and teasing.

You couldn't stop the smile from forming on your lips, the thrill of the moment, the pure, unbridled joy in his eyes, filling you with an indescribable warmth.

Suddenly, a snowball hit you on the side of the head, sending ice crystals cascading down the front of your coat.

You yelped, swiping at the icy shards, and turned to see Kol grinning impishly. You grabbed a fistful of snow and hurled it at him, the missile landing with a satisfying thwack.

You joined in the fray, the sound of laughter and playful banter filling the air. You lost track of time, the snowy battle raging on.

Klaus wandered over to where Elijah was standing, a few feet from the others, watching the fight with a small smile on his face.

"This is nice," Klaus said, his eyes following Hope as she darted around.

"Yes, it is," Elijah agreed, his gaze fixed on you.

"She's quite a fighter, isn't she?" Klaus remarked, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Indeed," Elijah murmured, his gaze never wavering.

Klaus watched him for a moment, then nudged him lightly. "I was talking about Hope. Who are you talking about?"

"Hm?" Elijah asked, finally tearing his gaze away.

Klaus smirked, leaning closer and dropping his voice to a low murmur. "Don't play coy with me, brother. We both know you're smitten."

Elijah's brow furrowed, his jaw clenching. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, please. The way you look at her, it's like she hung the stars," Klaus said, a teasing note in his voice.

"It's nothing," Elijah said, his expression closing off. "She's a friend. Nothing more."

"That's a lie and you know it," Klaus scoffed.

"Even if it were true," Elijah continued, his tone measured and controlled. "She deserves more than I can give her," he said, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice.

"Ohhh, so you are going with the martyr excuse this time? I should have guessed," Klaus said, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Elijah looked like he wanted to say more, but you chose that moment to join them.

"Hey," you greeted, a flush on your cheeks. Your breath puffed out in little clouds, and a few strands of hair had escaped from your beanie, curling around your face. All Elijah wanted to do was brush them away, run his fingers along your jaw, feel the warmth of your skin.

Instead, he smiled politely, keeping his hands in his pockets. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah," you said, a little breathless. "This is so much fun. I can't remember the last time I played in the snow."

"Nor can I," Elijah admitted. He paused, seeming to think for a moment. "It is rather invigorating."

"It's freezing," you corrected, laughing softly.

"I'm sure Elijah will be more than happy to warm you up," Klaus teased, shooting his older brother a knowing look.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the suggestion, and you turned away, pretending to admire the scenery.

"Niklaus," Elijah hissed, glaring at him. "It's impolite to suggest such things."

Klaus shrugged, not the least bit apologetic. "But it's true right? Or have I read the situation incorrectly?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it, unable to come up with a response. You were afraid of what Elijah might say, or worse, not say.

"We are just friends," Elijah said, his jaw set.

You tried not to let his words sting, but you couldn't help the pang of disappointment that twisted in your gut.

"Ah, yes, friends," Klaus drawled, rolling his eyes. "I think the rest of us are going to the cafe down the street to get some hot chocolate, are you two joining?"

"I'm going to head back to the compound," you said quickly, before Elijah could speak.

Klaus raised a brow, looking at Elijah with a smirk.

"I'll accompany you," Elijah said, his voice smooth.

"No," you insisted, a little too sharply. You winced and cleared your throat, forcing a smile. "I mean, no, that's okay. I don't want to keep you from having fun with the others. Besides, it's just a short walk. I'll be fine."

"Very well," Elijah conceded, his expression neutral.

Klaus shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

The silence that settled between you was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words.

You wanted to ask him what he meant, if there was a chance, or if he was just playing nice. But the fear of rejection kept the words trapped in your throat. You quickly turned away, afraid he would see the emotion written plainly on your face.

"I'm going to head out," you said, taking a step toward the street. "Have fun, okay?"

Elijah watched you leave, a hint of sadness in his eyes. He should have said something, should have explained. Instead, he had let you go, his silence a cowardly choice.

When you reached the compound, you shed your outer layers and flopped onto the sofa in front of the fireplace in the library. A wave of longing crashed over you, a deep ache that couldn't be filled. The feeling was transforming into frustration and anger, a familiar bitterness creeping in.

The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you sat up, seeing Elijah enter the room.

"I thought you were going to get hot chocolate," you said, forcing a small smile.

"I changed my mind," he replied, his voice soft.

You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. The silence was almost deafening, the tension palpable.

"So, uh, I was thinking about heading home soon," you said, needing to fill the void. "Once the snow lets up."

"Of course," Elijah agreed, though he sounded a bit hesitant.

You swallowed thickly, glancing at him. "Thanks for having me," you added, your voice a bit hoarse.

"Anytime," he said, and there was a sincerity in his voice that made your heart flutter.

You gave him a small smile, the sadness creeping back in. This feeling of limbo was killing you, the not knowing.

"So, is there, uh, is there someone else?" You asked, unable to hold back any longer. Your voice wavered, but you forced yourself to meet his eyes across the room. “Someone you're seeing?"

"No," Elijah replied, shaking his head.

"Oh, okay," you said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why do you ask?" He questioned, his tone carefully neutral.

You could have played it off, made a joke, deflected. But the weight of his gaze, the way he was looking at you, it was as if he could see into your very soul.

"You know why," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do I?" He asked, his brow furrowed.

"Don't," you snapped, frustrated with his cryptic behavior. “Just be honest with me, stop with the bullshit.”

Elijah’s features shifted, his carefully composed mask slipping for just a moment. A shadow passed over his face as he stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as though fighting an invisible force.

"It's not that simple," he said, his voice quiet as he approached you.

"Yes, it is," you countered.

"No," he said firmly. "You deserve someone who can give you what you want, someone who isn't... damaged. Someone who won't break your heart."

"I think that's for me to decide," you said, meeting his gaze.

"And what do you think I can give you?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not asking you for anything, this isn't a transaction," you said, the frustration creeping back in. "All I want is to know if you feel the same,"

His dark eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of hope. Then, the shutters fell, and his expression hardened.

"It doesn't matter," he said, turning away.

"No. Elijah. It does matter," you insisted, standing up and following him. 

He didn't say a word, just kept walking towards the door.

"Why are you doing this?" You asked, reaching out and touching his arm.

He flinched, but didn't pull away, and he slowly turned back to face you.

"Why are you trying to push me away?" You pressed, searching his face.

Elijah stared at you, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his dark eyes. Anger, frustration, or perhaps longing. You couldn’t tell, but his inability to make a decision had your blood boiling.

"Just… stop," you said, letting go of his arm, the words sharper now as the emotions clawed their way up your throat.

"Stop what?" he asked, his voice clipped, as if daring you to elaborate.

"Stop being so self-sacrificing. Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Just... man up and take what you want," you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and desperation.

Elijah’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm about to break.

"You think this is easy for me?" he said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "You think I enjoy pretending I don’t feel something for you?"

"Then why do it?" you shot back, standing your ground.

"Because I have to!" he barked, his composure cracking as he raised his voice. The sudden intensity made you flinch, you had never heard him yell before, but you refused to back down.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice just as loud now. "Why are you so determined to ruin this before it even starts?"

"You don’t understand," he said, his tone quieter but no less fierce. He turned his back to you, his hands gripping the edge of the mantel above the fireplace. "You deserve someone better than me. Someone who can give you a family, children, a happy life. Someone who doesn’t bring danger and destruction to everything they touch."

"Stop deciding what I deserve!" you shouted, your voice echoing in the room.

He turned on you then, his dark eyes blazing with anger. "And what happens when you wake up one day and realize you’ve wasted your life on a monster? What happens when you resent me for stealing the life you could have had?"

You took a step closer, your own anger boiling over. "You don’t get to make that choice for me! I know what I want, Elijah, and it’s you. If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be standing here, begging you to let me in!"

Elijah’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he looked almost stunned. But then his expression hardened again, his frustration returning.

"I am trying to protect you!" he shouted back, his voice shaking the room.

"From what?" you screamed, stepping right into his space.

"From me," he hissed, his voice raw and broken.

The confession hung in the air, thick and heavy. For a moment, neither of you said anything, your breaths coming fast and shallow as you stared at each other.

"You’re such a coward," you said finally, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness.

His eyes narrowed, his anger sparking again. "You think I’m a coward? You think I don’t want you?" he growled, stepping so close his shadow seemed to swallow you.

You stared up at him, defiant, despite the fear and excitement rushing through you.

"Do you have any idea what it’s like to want something so badly and know you can never have it?" he asked, his voice strained, as though the words were torn from him against his will.

"Yes. I'm looking at him," you retorted, your heart pounding.

Whatever control he'd been clinging to shattered, his walls crumbling as he took hold of your arm, pulling you flush against him.

You gasped at the contact, feeling his body pressing into yours, the heat of his breath as it ghosted over your skin, the smell of leather and cologne mingled with something wild, primal.

Without saying a word he lifted you up, pinning you to the nearest wall, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss that stole your breath away.

You gripped the fabric of his suit, kissing him back just as fiercely, letting your hands explore along his chest, his shoulders. You were practically vibrating with want, your body humming with pent-up desire as you felt his arousal pressing against your thigh.

"You drive me insane," he murmured, breaking the kiss just long enough to nip at the tender spot just below your ear, causing you to moan in anticipation.

You were like a moth to a flame, and he was the hottest fire you'd ever known, searing into your soul, consuming you from the inside out. And the way he touched you, it was as though he were afraid he'd never be able to hold you like this again.

He carried you upstairs to his bedroom in a blur of wind and sound, moving so fast you could barely comprehend it. In that moment, you were reminded that he was more than just a man. He was an ancient creature of immense power, and he was about to unleash every bit of that power on your body.

The moment your back hit the mattress he was on you, his hands tearing away your clothes and tossing them carelessly aside. You tugged at his clothes in return, desperate to feel his skin on yours, your breath hitching as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin.

It wasn't gentle or sweet, it was wild, passionate, full of all the words that went unspoken for far too long. You couldn't get enough, you wanted to lose yourself in this moment, in him. You didn't care about anything else.

The weight of him as he covered you with his body, the way his muscles rippled under your fingertips, the sounds he made when he lost control. You didn't expect this side of him, the almost feral desire he was unleashing.

His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them up until your knees were pressed against your chest, exposing you to him completely. His cock pressed against your slick entrance, teasing you, the sensation drawing out a breathy moan.

"Is this what you want?” he groaned, the head of his cock pressing just a fraction inside.

You groaned in frustration, writhing against him, trying to get him to sink deeper.

He chuckled darkly, holding your hips still. "You need to learn to be patient, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone dark and seductive.

You whined, but you knew better than to push him, and you could see the gleam in his eyes. You felt a sharp smack to your thigh, causing you to yelp in surprise, the stinging pain giving way to a dull warmth that only intensified your need.

"Now be a good girl and let me fuck you the way I've always wanted to," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

The way his accent wrapped around each syllable had a shudder rolling through your body. He gripped your thighs tighter, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you slowly. Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you cried out as he sank to the hilt.

"So pretty when you sing for me," he teased, nipping at your throat.

You couldn't even form a response, your brain short-circuiting as he pulled almost all the way out, the thick head of his cock catching on your entrance. Then, in one swift stroke, he eased back inside you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy, desperate kiss as he began to move inside you, each thrust hitting you in all the right places. His strokes were firm and deep, sending waves of pleasure washing over you, each thrust making you gasp for air.

It was everything you had hoped for, everything you'd been craving, and so much more. Your nails dug into the firm muscles of his chest, leaving half-moon marks on his pale skin.

"Do you know all the things I want to do to you?" he whispered against the shell of your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sent a rush of heat through your core. You whimpered in response, unable to form words.

He let out a soft laugh, his hips moving at a maddening pace, as he teased, "All the places I've thought about having you," he whispered.

You could feel your release coiling deep within you, but he wouldn't let you come, keeping you on the edge. Your mind was clouded with need, and his words only added fuel to the fire.

"Like right here in my bed," he continued, "Or taking you against the window for anyone who might be watching. Or bent over the balcony railing, with my fingers buried inside your wet little pussy while your scream fills the night sky."

The thought alone had you clenching around him, the fantasy sending your body into a spiral of need and pleasure.

"Would you like that? Being my plaything?" he purred.

You let out a needy whine, your nails clawing down his back, drawing blood. You needed him to make good on his promises.

"I think you would," he teased, nipping at your neck, drawing more moans from you.

You bucked your hips, your legs wrapped around him as you tried to take control.

"So eager," he groaned as he released his hold on your thighs, gripping the headboard for leverage, and the new position allowed him to hit even deeper, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"You want it?" He taunted, his voice ragged as his strokes became more forceful.

You moaned incoherently, feeling yourself start to lose control, and Elijah laughed, his voice deep and husky as he said, "Then take it," as if challenging you to finally fall off the edge.

Your breath hitched, a strangled gasp escaping you as your release finally crested over, and you came harder than you'd ever imagined. Your mind went completely blank, your vision blurred as the wave of euphoria crashed over you.

You were only vaguely aware of the sensation of his cock pulsing inside you, your name falling from his lips as he reached his own peak, spilling himself deep within you.

Your breathing was labored and shallow, your body humming with aftershocks as he began to kiss his way along your neck and down your collarbone, the feel of his lips ghosting over your skin drawing out soft whimpers.

His kisses grew more tender, the touch almost reverent as he murmured against your skin, "So perfect for me," his voice barely above a whisper, the words almost lost to the room.

He kept moving down your body, his lips brushing over every inch of bare skin as if memorizing it. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands tangling in his hair as you allowed yourself to just enjoy the sensation of him exploring you, worshipping you, like you were his religion, his salvation.

"'lijah," you said breathlessly, feeling him spread your thighs.

He didn't say a word as he lowered his head, his tongue finding your clit and lapping at you, drawing a loud cry from you as he cleaned up the mess he had made. You didn't have it in you to beg him to stop, his ministrations driving you to near-insanity, his tongue dragging through your slit.

He hummed softly, enjoying the sounds you were making. The way you squirmed, softly protesting as you felt yourself falling deeper under his spell.

"More," you whined, tugging at his hair.

He let out a deep laugh, and the vibration had your back arching as your climax rolled through you again, and your release flooded his tongue.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Elijah shifted, and you cracked an eye open, your body feeling boneless as you tried to get your bearings.

"Holy fuck," you said, your voice barely audible.

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you sighed contentedly. The air was heavy with lingering tension, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. Yet, as you lay tangled together, the heat of his body grounding you, the world outside seemed to melt away. For now, there was only this. The sense of finally being together.

"I didn't think you would be such a talker in bed," you said, breaking the silence.

You felt his body shake as he laughed again, a low, throaty sound that made you weak. You shifted, cuddling closer, your head on his chest as you traced circles on his bare skin.

"What?" You asked, playfully nipping at his collarbone. "You can't just say all that to me and expect me not to comment on it,"

"I was just stating facts, nothing more," he said, the smirk audible in his tone.

"Mhm," you teased. "Well, I hope you know I expect you to follow through,"

Elijah laughed softly, his arms tightening around you. "Is that so?" He asked, his voice deep and seductive. "In that case, you should get some rest. I have a very long list of things I want to do to you."

Your face flushed, and you laughed, trying to play it off. But deep down, you were hoping that list was never-ending.

"Don't think for a second I'll be satisfied with one round, I can keep you up for days if you let me," he teased, nipping your neck playfully.

The thought of him keeping you locked up in his bedroom for days, indulging your every fantasy and need, made you squirm in anticipation.

You sat up slightly, pushing on his chest so he was lying on his back, his arms still wrapped around you, pulling you along for the ride. You straddled him, kissing him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips on yours.

"We'll see who keeps who up," you teased, rolling your hips over his already growing cock.

He hummed in approval, his hands gripping your ass as you continued to move, slowly grinding against him. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as you picked up the pace.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs pulled your attention away, and you heard the voices of the rest of the family downstairs.

You felt your cheeks heat up and Elijah smirked, gripping your thighs as he sat up, pulling you closer and wrapping your legs around him. He kissed along your neck, whispering softly.

"We should probably join them before they get suspicious," he murmured.

You hummed in agreement, not really wanting to move but knowing he was right. You let him lift you up and set you down on the edge of the bed.

"We have a lot to talk about," you said, grabbing your clothes from the floor and beginning to get dressed.

"We do," Elijah agreed, watching you. "I can't promise this will be easy," he warned, "but I want to try, if you're willing."

You turned to face him, taking a step closer and helping him button up his shirt. You leaned in, kissing him softly.

"I want that more than anything," you said, resting your forehead against his, feeling like you could finally breathe again.

He smiled, the look of pure happiness on his face warming your heart. He kissed you once more, slow and tender, and you knew in that moment that nothing would ever feel as good as being loved by him.

By the time you both made it downstairs, the rest of the family had settled in the parlor, hot chocolate in hand. Hope was curled up beside Klaus, who was dramatically recounting his snowball victory to an unimpressed Hayley. "I was vastly outnumbered, of course," Klaus was saying, his tone full of mock gravitas. "But my superior tactics won the day."

"You were hit in the face three times," Hayley retorted, rolling her eyes as she sipped her drink. "By a seven-year-old."

"Details," Klaus muttered, waving a hand as if dismissing the thought. Beside him, Hope giggled, her cheeks still rosy from the cold.

Kol leaned lazily against the doorframe, cradling his mug and watching the exchange with a smirk. "Don’t worry, Nik. We’ll still tell our enemies that you have never been defeated," he quipped, earning a laugh from Rebekah, who was perched elegantly on the couch.

As you and Elijah entered the room, Rebekah's gaze immediately shifted to the two of you, her brow arching with curiosity. "Well, look who decided to join us," she said, a knowing edge in her voice. "Took you long enough. Don’t worry, we saved you some hot chocolate."

Elijah’s hand rested lightly on your lower back as he guided you toward the table, a move that did not go unnoticed by his siblings, who were all eyeing you with a mix of amusement and suspicion.

You glanced at Elijah, feeling your cheeks heat up. "We got… sidetracked," he said simply, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile.

Klaus snorted, but a deadly look from Elijah silenced the impending snarky remark. You helped yourself to a cup of hot chocolate, which tasted sinfully good, the heat and sweetness seeping through you as you settled on the couch next to Rebekah. Elijah sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your knee.

You snuggled close to him and felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you in even closer as the family laughed and teased one another, enjoying this rare moment of peace and contentment. You smiled to yourself, letting yourself sink into the warmth and love of the moment, knowing that it wouldn't always be this easy but that you would fight for every minute of it.

[schtrawberry]

[4] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

─ having your moon and ascendant in the same sign 🤝🏽 having every single emotion flash on your face, clear as day, at all times

═ sun in the tenth house 🤝🏽 indicator of doing well in your career or being able to advance in your career more easily than others

☰ on that note, mercury in the tenth house can also indicate being able to advance in your career because of the way you speak or how well you speak in a professional setting. individuals with this sign can also be recognized in the workplace for how well they speak and communicate.

☱ individuals with moon in twelth house may find themselves dwelling in the past more than most. the feeling of nostalgic makes them both happy and sad at the same time.

[personally, this manifests itself in me being able to constantly go back to specific moments in my life where i could've made a different choice, where i could've said yes to a specific opportunity, where my split decision could've prevented something monumental in my life from happening, and just overthinking the hell about how different my current situation would be if i did or did not. lots of angst and nostalgia in this sign tbh. it's hard, i know.]

☲ having moon negatively aspecting venus can indicate a late-bloomer in relationships. one might be more likely to find themselves in a serious relationship much later in life compared to others. this may be because the individual could be less likely to pursue romance on their own and would rather be approached first by a potential love interest.

[i can personally attest to this. at the ripe old age of 23, i have never been in a relationship before (or even a fling). from personal experience, i find that this is mostly out of fear of rejection (maybe coupled with my fear of being known but who really knows).]

☴ the taurus juno urge to show love and care through cooking— whether they're good at it or not. be it making their loved one breakfast in the morning, buying them a thoughtful snack or baking them their favorite dessert; a taurus juno is intrinsically tied to food in how they express their dedication and commitment to the one's they love most.

☳ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ kalliope (22), known as the chief of all muses, goddess of eloquence, and muse of epic poetry is the eldest of the nine muses. her name translates to "beautiful-voiced" from the greek words "kallos" and "ops". having this prominent in one's chart can indicate being known for having a beautiful voice, whether it be in terms of singing, public speaking, or just in general. someone that can attract positive attention from others simply through their voice, even to the point of possibly becoming someone's muse for it.

✢ [tw: r***] peitho (118), the personified spirit of seduction, persuasion, and charming speech, was the handmaiden and herald of the goddess aphrodite. interestingly, one striking depiction of peitho is of her fleeing from the scene of a r***. she was known to protect women from r*** and was known to flee from scenes of r*** when she was unable to intervene. peitho’s gift was pleasure for words and bodies, and she would be enraged when such pleasure was violated in any way.

i feel that this energy, when prominent in one's chart, can manifest itself in a girl's girl— a protector of women and advocate for consent. and while this observation does lean into the darker side of peitho, on the lighter end, this energy does also stand for using one's gift in speech and voice to seduce and charm others whilst also using it to stand up for women in unconsenting situations with men.

[`] film: love & pop (1998) dir. hideaki anno

last / next

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ zoro, sanji, ace, law & "casual" relationships

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤroronoa zoro, sanji vinsmoke, portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. law

tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, gn! reader, sfw, slightly suggestive, we all yearners here, nothing new, little bit of angst, fwb's and/or lack of labels

from vyon. my intention was to have reader upset on the dynamics of their relationship but i can't see any of the op boys/men loving casually (apart from a couple sluts... shanks.. jokes :p), their love runs so deep, it governs their every move soooo :3 sorry if that was what you were expecting, but i was also expecting that until i started writin for zo and the rest jus followed; i wanted to add lufs, but i feel like if he loved you, he'd make it known and apparent, he leaves no room to doubt when he loves

zoro, unsurprisingly, doesn't indulge in casual relationships. nothing in his life has ever been casual for him, not his swords, not his captain, not his crew, and it certainly won't be you that he'll ever feel casual about. it starts small, it starts stupid, it's a stroke of impulsivity and that's his downfall. the swordsman dwells on the immediate here and now often. though of course, zoro has long–term plans with his life, but a lot of the details between his current now and the promised future are blurred, unclear— which allows him enough space and flexibility to adapt to any new situations that he's thrown into. he's diligent and stubborn, but smart enough to know that it's necessary not to be so rigid and headstrong.

when you become casual, it's like something in him has been satisfied, a ruining ache that'd had settled below the scars he'd first received from mihawk stops hurting. your hands smoothed over his skin, your large smile thrown over your shoulder with the sun melting over your features, your warmth so sticky and humid when you sneak into his hammock— he warns you that he's sweaty from training but it doesn't deter you, telling him that you're also sweating from running around with your captain all day. you'll both just have to take a shower later, you tell him and zoro naturally imagines himself trailing after you into the bathroom with no incentive. it all becomes so natural that luffy, nami, chopper, everyone begins looking for you when it's zoro they want. admittedly, there's still a dull sting where the ache used to lay sometimes. when your head nods down, your body stretched out on top of his, and you press your lips so slow, so sweet against his own that he thinks the next words to leave your lips when you pull away will be a confession. a declaration that might make his own promise to become the best swordsman pale in comparison. but old wounds scar, and those scars hurt when you press down on them because they're so deep.

that's why zoro still feels the ache sometimes when your entire weight presses him down, rendering him immobile— him, a swordsman, immobile. he's allowed your marks onto his back, there's so much softness in how he touches you and yet. there's still nothing tangible.

sanji wouldn't settle for a casual relationship unless it's the only thing he could get and unfortunately, it's the only thing he thinks he'd be capable of having with you. no matter how tall, how gentlemanly, how sweet, generous, attractive sanji was, there's something inherent in him that makes the thought of having you promised to his heart incomprehensible. without that tangible promise, there's nothing there for him to inevitably destory; no heart of yours left in the care of a vinsmoke and he believes it to be for the best.

despite how his heart lurches whenever you sneak up on him in the kitchen, despite your footsteps already so familiar to his heart that it immediately accompanies the dull beating that sounds in his ribs as you draw yourself closer and closer, wrapping your arms around him and leaning yourself onto him. despite how it's like you trust him as your weight falls onto him, despite how you relax as his arm reaches back awkwardly just to accommodate you, laying on your waist. despite the domesticity you offered as a lingering kiss on his cheek and ask him what he's making. despite it all.

he knows he wants something more— robin learns he wants something more when she becomes a witness to the decision to allow his fist to fall on the face of creep that had followed you all the way back to the sunny, but it's knowledge that'll always be foreign to you. it's haunting still, as you hold his hands in yours and dab a cotton soaked in antiseptics on his knuckles. his fingers tighten around yours when you finish, drawing away to put the first aid kit back and he pulls you back. just for a moment, whilst the skin of his hands are raw and bloody and weak enough not to hurt your heart if you ever decided to hand it over.

ace thinks himself capable of keeping things casual, foolish really when he pauses long enough to remember that his entire being was moulded from love. though it helps that he's such a notorious pirate, from such a notorious crew; it helps him pack up with excuses of having things he needed to do, people he needed to see, and people to avoid. he doesn’t stick around one place for too long, an enigmatic and mysterious enough man to make a decent night to tell friends about. he's content with that, whitebeard either doesn't know or doesn’t care, and his crew can't complain since he doesn't ever bring them on board. (though marco sometimes makes him go through very specific check ups that he gets teased for. even then, the trail of hearts he leaves behind is fairly scarce despite how his crew paints him out to be.)

that's why it's surprising for his crew to see him come back to the docked moby dick on an island under whitebeard's protection with someone trailing behind him. some of them hang from the guard rails, watching with interest as he spreads his arms towards his father's ship with a proud smile that only grows to look like it's tearing through his skin as your eyes widen in amazement. he hangs around the dock with you for a while longer, talking your ear off it seems as his fellow pirates swap places watching their commander. when the sun begins setting, ace is waving goodbye to you with a smile that's promising his return and immediately gets teased when he shoots himself up in a pillar of fire to get onto the ship. (the pirates ignore the way he looks over his shoulder to see if you've seen it.)

though surprising, they think they've seen the last of the unlucky soul ace has bought close to the moby dick until they're two days worth of sailing away from that island and he's scrunching his nose up at a sheet of paper, humming and making loud, annoying noises until someone else cuts in and asks what he's reading. a letter, he states. who's sending his ass letters? they wonder. the letters persist. a few months later, they're rounding back to that island because there'd been trouble there. whitebeard thinks it's lucky that ace was off on his own business when he'd gotten the news but when he makes it to the island, there are flickers of flames so vibrant and tamed that could only belong to his son. it takes a while for things to calm down, but ace is holding someone close to his chest as he pushes through the rooms of the moby dick, shouting for marco.

whilst marco is watching over you, whitebeard has to order ace away from your side to talk to him. it's customary for whitebeard pirates to introduce their lovers to their father, he tells ace. ace's face scrunches up, a flicker of regret. it's nothing like that.

law is a realist, a man of science, only convinced by facts and straightforward reasoning. love has neither facts nor straightforward reasoning; it's not something he can study to understand better, he has nothing to cut open, to observe in different conditions under a microscope. the body's desires, on the other hand, is easily explained by science. even then, law isn't one really to have desires often. they're unlikely and rare, but they happen sometimes and he rations that it's simple biology to wake up with his pants uncomfortably tight.

knowing you well enough, law's no stranger to the fact that you're not someone that can be easily swayed enough to the delusions of love after a few nights together— you're smart. though the first time is a simple accident. days, weeks, months of being stuck in the polar tang around his crew with no space or privacy to take care of himself, it only takes a couple lingering touches and a misguided conversation for law to reach out. after, you both come to an agreement that'll simply help you both let off some steam. it's easy, it's simple, until it isn't and law finds out that he was a stranger to himself and he finds that he is someone that is easily swayed by delusion. he rationalises it as a physical attraction.

then, you are separated. he misses his crew of course, and when the thought hones in, detailing out the features of you that he'd missed, he rationalises and he rationalises. luckily, with the arrival of the strawhats and their reckless captain, law has barely any time alone with any thoughts that aren't doubts about teaming up with them and more and more plans to counteract the ones that had been messed up. somehow, magically, luckily, it all works out. for the first time in a while, his mind is quiet. he doesn’t think of you or the strawhats. his mind strays further back to a certain love that'd left him starved, crawling in the shadow of the words that'd been governing him for a long time.

and of course, because nothing in his life ever goes his way, he's shook awake, forced to face his raw and unadulterated feelings with no way to rationalise. don't try to find a reason for someone's love, whilst poetic and helpful in another context, law finds many reasons why he loves you and none of them belong to the categories: fact or straightforward reasoning. he dreads returning to you and having to force his love back under those two genres.

[ssa-danhotchner]

Happier | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Years after their breakup, y/n struggles with seeing Hotch move on with his new partner, Beth, while still working alongside him every day.

cw: use of y/n, past relationship, heartbreak, angst?, themes of moving on, Haley mentioned. let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I had the entire sour album stuck in my head. Please give me some ideas to write

read part two here

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the bullpen as the last of the team packed up for the night. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. The words of your report blurred together, the glowing monitor casting pale light over your exhausted face. You didn’t even know why you were still there; everyone else had gone home.

Everyone, except for him.

Aaron Hotchner.

It had been years since the two of you had ended things, but the wound never seemed to fully heal. Time had dulled the ache, sure, but it hadn’t erased the memories.

You could still see the way he’d smile when it was just the two of you, the way his hand would linger on yours longer than necessary, the way he whispered your name like it was the only word that mattered. Back then, it felt like you had something unshakable, something real. But life had a way of pulling people apart, and for you and Aaron, it had been no different.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakup. There were no screaming matches, no accusations hurled in the heat of the moment. It had been quiet, almost agonizingly so. You’d both known it was over before either of you said the words. The demands of his job, his grief over Haley, and the ever-present weight of being a single father—it was too much for him to bear. And you, despite loving him more than anything, hadn’t been enough to bridge the growing gap between you.

“I can’t give you what you deserve,” he’d said that night, his voice heavy with regret. “You deserve more than stolen moments and half-hearted promises.”

And that had been it.

You had cried, of course. For weeks, maybe months. But you told yourself you’d be fine, that you’d move on. You tried to convince yourself that his words weren’t true, that you could have made it work. But deep down, you knew he was right.

Still, knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier.

Now, years later, you had settled into a new normal. Working alongside him every day was a constant reminder of what you’d lost, but you’d learned to compartmentalize. You had to. There was no room for personal feelings when lives were on the line.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his office, where the light was still on. Through the glass, you could see him sitting at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His face softened as he spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You knew who he was talking to.

Beth.

The name tasted bitter on your tongue, though you hated yourself for it. She was kind, warm, and good for him. You’d never met her formally, but you’d heard enough to know she made him happy. And wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to be happy?

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because every time you saw him with her—every time you heard him mention her in passing—it felt like someone was twisting a knife in your chest. You wanted him to be happy, but not like this. Not with her.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me.

The lyrics played on a loop in your mind, echoing your most selfish thoughts. You wanted to believe he still thought of you, that some small part of him missed what you’d shared. But the rational part of you knew better. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. He had moved on.

“Hey.”

His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing in front of your desk, his expression tinged with concern.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I could say the same to you” you replied, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t return it. “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I will” you said, though you had no intention of leaving just yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things left unsaid.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his dark eyes searching yours.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t quite believe you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Hotch”

You watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the bullpen.

Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest threatening to crush you. You hated how much power he still had over you, how his presence could unravel you so completely.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes, letting the memories flood in despite the pain they brought. You thought of the nights you’d spent tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark. You thought of the way he’d kiss your forehead before leaving for work, murmuring promises to come back to you.

And you thought of the way it all ended, the way he walked out of your life without looking back.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to move on, to let go of the love that still clung to you like a ghost. But every time you tried, you found yourself pulled back to him, to the man who had once been your everything.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and shutting off your computer. As you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

Sitting behind the wheel, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I hope you’re happy,” you whispered to the empty car, your voice cracking. “But don’t be happier.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession to a love you could never fully let go of.

And as you drove away, the memories of him lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love you once had—and the happiness you’d never find again.

[esotericbluntbaby]

intoxicated conversations

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: after finding out you've decided to move back to the states following your break up, hamzah indulges even more in the satisfaction of weed. surrounding the comfort within all the pain it gives him, he decides he needs more than what the drug can give him.

mentions: angst, weed/drug use, angsty love confession, slight argument, dialogue-heavy, hurt/comfort, happy ending, she/her pronouns, kinda toxic and possessive hamzah, kinda toxic reader, sfw!

supermodel by sza

--

the break-up was as painful as jumproping on broken shards of glass.

the relationship was short-lived, as if it died within the first moments it was bloomed. words were left unsaid as if your relationship was a letter that was never sent; a letter that got lost in the mail and lost in translation between the two of you. the exchange of "i love you" simply never happened, which kept you both dwelling on the possibility of a future. calendars were marked with red ink on dates you were supposed to go out, half of them being crossed off and rescheduled throughout the span of the year you dated.

you wanted to say the three words that could have fixed the relationship; in fact, you craved it as much as a cannibal craves the flesh of a fresh human. in a way, hamzah was your flesh and you desired to taste as much of him as you could. however, humans aren't meant to know how another human tastes, not like that; at least, that's what you thought. fear drove you apart, however, resentment accompanied the panic that rose in your heart each time you felt like telling him how you truly felt about him. arguments began to arise after every conversation; it soon became tiring to talk to each other.

eventually, the fire grew cold, the ice decided to melt, and the relationship felt more like a dead plant that the both of you decided to water at different, separate times. you ended things with him, leaving a painful gap in your heart where he once resided in. with his absence came the presence of a lonelier, melancholy emotion that you always seemed to feel. though you tried blaming it on the fact that it was always raining and cold and that you were probably deficient in vitamin d, you knew in your heart that it was because you regretted ending things with him instead of talking yourselves through it. running away from your problems, you decided to run away from the specific problem at hand; you decided to move back to the states.

--

hamzah was currently on a facetime call with martin and mandy, bewildered at the information that just came out of mandy's mouth so nonchalantly.

"she's what?" hamzah's eyes widened, picking up his phone from leaning on his pc.

mandy sighed, "i tried talking her out of it, but she's so set on going."

"well, where's she moving to?"

"back to california. she said something about 'needing vitamin d'" or some bullshit excuse," mandy began to type on her macbook.

martin decided to interrupt the tense air with his usual personality shining through, "should we go get pizza tonight, gang?"

"wait, mandy," hamzah interrupted as he ignored martin, "are you upset over her moving?"

"i'm upset at both of you, right now."

hamzah threw his hands up in defense, "what'd i do?"

"you guys decided to just break up as if it's as simple as that- as if it would get rid of all the memories and feelings and-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there- what do you mean 'you guys?' she broke up with me."

martin interrupted, once again, "well, did you fight for her?"

hamzah was genuinely puzzled, as if the concept of fighting for someone was foreign to him, "what?"

"like," martin continued, "when she brought up breaking up with you, did you even try to convince her not to?"

"well, no-"

mandy egged on, "that's what i mean by 'you guys.' you guys decided to just end things when it got hard."

"i'll be fine," hamzah lied, "we never ever said 'i love you.'"

martin shrugged, "just because you never said it, doesn't mean it wasn't there."

--

hamzah's lie caught up with him in the middle of the night in the way that grief catches up to a mourner as the light shines on their tears. though he's slightly ashamed of it, he kept a bottle of your perfume after you both went your separate ways. spraying it onto his pillow, he inhaled the familiar scent and began to feel his body relax. the mere remembrance of you also reminded him of your forthcoming absence.

still inhaling your scent of his pillow, guiltily, he took out the cart hidden in his drawers. he told himself he'd try to quit, yet, it felt like a good time to bring it out once more. smoke filled the air in front of him as he took a long drag out of the mouthpiece and allowed himself to feel everything around him: the relapsing, the smoke in the air, the presence of your perfume, and the absence of your body.

one hit turned into two, as two somehow multiplied into four, and hamzah was absolutely blasted. he didn't even realize that, somehow, his legs were picking himself off of his chair and was now leading him out of the door. eventually, he felt his hands put his car keys in the ignition and start. he didn't know where he was going; he simply let the intoxication take control of his body as his mind floated elsewhere.

--

it was 9:00 at night as you heard a knock on the wooden door. getting up from taping boxes closed, you looked through the peephole to make sure there wasn't a maniac only being separated from you by the door in front of you. you weren't sure if your eyes were fooling you, or if it was your desires deceiving you once again and taking you away in a drunken state, but you were 99% sure that it was hamzah. taking the risk, you decided to open the door, revealing his half-lidded and ruby eyes, accompanying his swaying body.

your eyebrows furrowed, "hamzah?"

"hey," he sounded slightly drunken off of substance, "can i sleep here for the night? i don't want to be alone."

"what-"

"just on the couch. please."

you noticed the state he was in and didn't want to leave him to drive home, "okay."

helping him into your house, you helped him lay on the couch. you helped put a blanket, which you got from underneath your couch, over his shivering body. though you were about to leave to go to your room after mumbling a goodnight, he grabbed your hand.

"stay."

you blinked, not knowing if you heard him right, "what?"

he pulled you slightly closer, "just stay. talk to me a little. how've you been?"

"maybe we should wait until you're sober, hamzah, i don't-"

"no, it has to be now. if i'm sober, i won't be able to talk."

"what do you mean?" you questioned, getting comfortable on the couch

he lightly scoffed, "don't worry about it- just stay here and talk to me. answer my question."

"what question?"

he began to play with your fingers, "how've you been?"

"i've been okay."

his eyes opened as wide as they could, "are you lying to me?"

"uh, no- no, i'm not-"

"y'know," he rested his head on your thigh and gazed up at you, "you've always been a horrible liar."

"hamzah."

"are you mad at me? i'm sorry."

a pang of guilt entered your chest, "no, hamzah- i'm not mad at you. i just think you should go to bed. it's late and you're not in the right state to be talking to me or, honestly, even being here."

"you opened the door for me."

"what?"

"you opened the door. you looked through the peephole and saw me and you still opened the door. why?"

"because i didn't want you to be driving in the middle of the night in this state."

he crossed his arms, "well, i drove here. i can drive back if you want," he says as he began to get up.

"no," you laid him back down on the couch, "it's okay. you can stay. we can talk tomorrow."

"but-"

you got up from the couch, "goodnight, hamzah."

--

the next morning came shortly after you fell asleep. expecting a familiar face on your couch, you were surprised when your apartment seemed empty. looking throughout each room, decorated with boxes, you couldn't find hamzah anywhere. you, then, felt a vibration in your pocket.

hamzah

10:07 am | hey, thanks for letting me stay with you. i'm sorry that i crashed your apartment. i didn't mean to and it won't happen again.

you

10:08 am | oh its np. ur good.

--

except, it did happen again a couple of days later. once again, as you were packing boxes with miscellaneous decorations found in the space around you, you heard another knock on your door. mimicking your actions from the first time he knocked, you looked through the peephole and opened the door once you realized how red and glossy his eyes were.

"i'm horrible."

confused, you simply allowed him to come in and helped him sit down on your couch again, "what's the matter?"

"i said i wouldn't do this again and here i am. i'm sorry."

in all honestly, you pitied how hurt he seemed; you didn't know why and you didn't want to take advantage of his drunkenness. yet, you were also somewhat selfish in the situation. you wanted to know why he kept on showing up at your apartment high. is he manipulating you? is he aware that you would always open your door to him if he was intoxicated? you needed to know.

"hamzah," you held his hand and softly asked, "why do you keep coming here like this?"

"i dunno. you'll have to ask me another time."

you sighed, "is this just gonna keep happening?"

"i dunno. your apartment looks empty."

in the midst of him showing up, you almost forgot that you only had a couple of days to pack everything up, "oh, yeah. just- y'know, getting rid of some stuff."

"martin told me you were moving."

"he did?"

"him and mandy."

you lightly rubbed the veins on his hand with your thumb, "hamzah, i won't be here after three more days. i need you to remember that when you're sober. i'll even text you it because this place will be empty."

you waited patiently for a response, realizing after five minutes that he fell asleep with his head on top of you. trying your best to balance out your leg with a pillow, you managed to get up without waking him. taking a blanket and putting it onto him, once again, you left the room.

--

the next morning, like always, he was gone. this time, you decided to text him.

you

11:42 am | hi, hamzah. i just wanted to let ur know that i'm not mad at u for coming over when ur high, but i won't be in this apartment after thursday. if u wanna get high and come over again, u got like 2 more days lol

11:43 am | im only half joking

11:43 am | i hope everythings okay w u

11:43 am | each time u come here u seem so out of it

hamzah

12:23 pm | no yea i get it

12:23 pm | i'm sorry again

12:24 pm | i dont know why im always there

12:24 pm | it's like i get high and then i just

12:24 pm | lose control of everything im doing lol

12:25 pm | i would say that it wont happen again but i cant promise anything

you liked the message right after he said it, as another message was waiting to be sent in the text message box on his phone.

12:25 pm | i'm sure it'll happen again

12:25 pm | i miss you

yet, the messages were highlighted and deleted.

--

moving day came quickly without a visit from hamzah and you were upset. though he wasn't sober, you missed simply hearing his voice. you missed how he looked at you with glistening eyes, adoration still laced in the stares he gave you as he was laying on your lap. you felt horrible about missing him; he was only coming over as drugs poisoned his body, mindset, and sense of judgement, yet, you simply liked seeing him.

your apartment was now empty and you were sitting on the floor, taking in the fact that you were genuinely leaving. you knew you could back out of your lease at any moment if you wanted to. your stuff was in the moving van downstairs, so it wasn't like this had to be a permanent decision. for someone so adamant on leaving, the change of heart almost gave you whiplash. hamzah entered your life with a plague and, somehow, you were refusing treatment. you sat on the cold, hardwood floor, rethinking your decisions, as another knock was heard from the other end of the door.

this time, you didn't want to let him in. he wouldn't let you leave if he did. you would see the pain in his eyes that he's so desperately trying to get out with the weed he's been smoking, and you would let him in. this time there was no couch to sleep on. there was no boxes to question about. there was nothing there. you heard a muffled voice come from the door you were staring at.

"i'm sober, i swear. let me in, please."

--

you and hamzah sat on the floor together in silence. a part of you was afraid of listening to him. if anyone was able to convince you to stay, it'd be him. yet, another part of you was begging for him to convince you to stay. internally, you were a seesaw that was constantly imbalanced with different weights on each side.

"hamzah, i can't just sit here- i have to leave soon and-"

"i love you."

your eyes widened as your heart began to beat quicker, almost as if your heart was a ticking time bomb that those three words became the detonating trigger. you finally made eye contact with him, as his eyes were already on yours. this time, for the first time in the past couple of times you've seen him, his eyes were normal. there was no hint of red in them and no glossiness. he wasn't tipsy and you didn't have to help him figure out where the floor was or where your furniture went. this time, he couldn't sober up and leave.

"you decided to tell me this now, as i'm leaving? hamzah, what the fuck is wrong with you?" your voice raised slightly louder, "you waited until the final fucking day that i was here for you to tell me that?"

"i've been wanting to say it ever since we started dating. i was scared-"

"you don't think i'm scared? i'm fucking terrified. y'know, i almost moved to a whole fucking country just to get away from my problems and then i- suddenly, i just realize that you were the fucking problem this whole time! are you serious, hamzah?" you noticed a grin appear on his face, "oh, you're smiling? what the fuck are you smiling about? what could possibly make you happy in this moment. i'm literally yelling at you for being a genuine dumbass-"

"you said almost."

the anger you felt dissipated as confusion took over your emotions and facial features, "what?"

"i 'almost' moved to a whole fucking country. you said 'almost,' that means you're not going to."

"no-"

you wished you could slap that stupid smirk off his face, "no, you're going to stay. you said 'almost.' you never wanted to move- you were waiting for me to say it, weren't you?"

your jaw slightly dropped for a moment; you didn't even realize that your subconscious peeked through your anger, "no, that's not-"

"i love you."

"hamzah, stop-"

"i fucking love you."

the two of you suddenly became closer than you were, interlocking lips as if they were hands that were molded together. the nostalgia took over any sense of judgement you previously had, including the anger that you previously felt for him. for someone who wanted to run away from their problems, their problem being hamzah, you gave into what your subconscious truly wanted fairly easily. it, somehow, isn't surprising that you decided to kiss the problem. mid-kiss, it suddenly dawned on you that perhaps you were also the problem. you both decided not to speak, which was on the both of you. he pulled away, fixing your hair for you and kissing your cheek before speaking again.

"you let me in. you looked through your door and, each time i came over, you let me in. you can say whatever you want about me. you can say i'm a fucking dumbass. you can call me an asshole for coming here over and over again and fucking with your head without realizing. i even apologize for that," he kissed your forehead, "but my point is: you can say all of that, and somehow not hate me."

"i don't hate you, hamzah. i never said i did-"

"when martin said you were moving, the first thing i did was spray the perfume i stole from you onto a pillow. then, i smoked so much of my pen that the battery died both times i came over. i need you here. i thought i needed a place to crash whenever i get high and lonely-"

"really, hamzah?"

"let me finish before you get mad. no, i didn't need that. i need you here. do you know how fucking hurt i was after i found out from mandy that you were leaving before i even had the chance to fix things? you think i'd let you just leave without me trying to get you to stay first?"

you sighed, "you let me leave when i left you."

"and look at where that got me. baby, i'm a mess without you. i don't care about anything anymore. there are times where i just sit in bed all day and mope about you because letting you go was the worst mistake i've ever made in my entire life. i can't just let you leave again- not after knowing where that left me the first time. i need you back. i'll do anything. i'll beg for your forgiveness, just- please. stay."

"what do you mean by 'stay?'"

"let me fix things. let me make things better. i'll fight for you," he placed his hands on your shoulders, "i'll say the things you can't say. i'll do the things you can't do on your own. i'll do it- i'll do all of it. please. stay."

your voice got as soft as a whisper, "where would i stay?"

"with me. stay with me."

he pulled your chin towards his lips and kissed you gently, once more.

"i love you. stay."

you interlocked your hand with his, as you sat together on the floor of your old apartment.

"help me move my stuff?"

--

authors note

i kinda hate how i ended this but this came to me in a dream LOL

[dollfaceksj]

reminder | jjk (m)

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: Whenever he flies back into town, your doorbell is the first he rings. When he has to fly out again, your bed is the last he lies in. However, you’re not stupid. You know your ex-boyfriend, that also happens to be an up-and-coming professional boxer, Jeon Jungkook, doesn’t come to you only. Unfortunately, you have no right to be jealous, not when you’re the one that ended the relationship.

➥ GENRE: angst ⋆ smut ⋆ bit of fluff ⋆ exes with benefits

➥ CATEGORY: three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, exes, second chance, angst, fuckboy!jk, possessiveness, jealousy, exes with benefits, boxer!jk, unprotected sex(STAY SAFE), creampie, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, oral sex (f. rec), handjob, spanking, toxicity (a lot if it), shower sex, heterosexuals (sorry), fluff if u squint, mutual pining, sooooo much pining, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.7k

a/n: ck jungkook has given me brain rot and i just had to write something about it. sorry in advance.

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Change is inevitable. Everything changes. Everyone changes. You love change, though. You don’t like clinging to things and you’re always up to try out new things. You’re the one in your friend group that’s always trying new items on a menu, always checking out random music, trying different things with your hair.

Maybe it’s because of the way you’ve grown up, always taught to move on and enjoy new things because life is short. No dwelling on the past, no asking yourself ‘why me?’, no fear of change in your life. That’s exactly how you’ve always been.

So, what you have trouble understanding is how you allow yourself to be in this situation right now, a book you should’ve closed a long time ago.

With your face pressed into your wet sheets, back arched, bare ass in the air and lewd moans spilling from your lips as you get fucked into your mattress by the man you broke up with 2 years ago.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his cum.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

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2 hours ago

You’re scrubbing the last of your dirty cutlery with your soapy sponge when you hear 3 soft knocks on your front door.

It’s him.

You glance at the clock that’s hung up on the wall in your kitchen, your hands automatically reaching for the kitchen towel that you slung over your shoulder when you started washing your dishes. 10:45PM. You dry your hands and neatly drape the damp kitchen towel back over the cupboard’s handle before heading into the hallway.

You peek through the peephole but it’s blackened out, already knowing who it is with the way he always presses his thumb into your peephole to keep you from seeing him. You fight the smile that’s trying to force its way onto your lips as you reach for your keys.

With a sigh, you slowly unlock your front door. Your hand pulls on the door handle, creating a bigger gap and allowing yourself to be seen as your eyes make contact with his big brown ones and his sheepish smile.

There’s a cut on his cheekbone, bags under his eyes, his long black locks pulled back into a small bun. The layers that are too short to fit into the bun frame his face so perfectly, kissing the top of his brows and tickling his temples.

Still as gorgeous as ever.

He’s wearing a black shirt and grey sweats and he’s got luggage with him, allowing you to assume he probably came here straight from the airport. He must be absolutely exhausted. Or at least jetlagged.

You cross your arms, closing your cardigan around your torso in the process. “You’re back.” It’s all you can say, really. It’s all you ever say when he’s suddenly in front of your front door every few days or weeks.

Like it’s become some kind of inside joke, an inside joke just for the two of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he says without any hesitation right after the words leave your mouth. He always replies with these exact words but it catches you off guard every single time.

He doesn’t wait for you to invite him in, he knows you’ll let him. Like you always have, like you always do, like you always will.

He struts in, kicking his shoes off his feet but neatly placing them by the door next to his luggage before returning his attention to you, his big hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you closer. You lean back a bit to glance up at him, your thumb gently grazing the cut on his cheekbone.

He doesn’t react, just stares at you as he lets you do whatever you want. He’ll always let you do whatever you want.

Because it’s no secret that Jungkook is still in love with you.

“Does it hurt?” you ask softly, bringing the same thumb down to rub his bottom lip, peeking at him through your pretty lashes.

He shakes his head, parting his lips as he takes your thumb into his mouth and slowly circles the tip of your thumb with his warm tongue.

“You must be hungry if you came here straight from the airport. I just made some pasta, you want some?” You move your other hand up to brush some of his hair out of his face.

“Hm, I can have you for dinner as well.”

You roll your eyes and take the opportunity to take your thumb out of his mouth and pry his hands off your waist to head into the kitchen. He huffs but quickly follows you, trailing behind you like a stray kitten.

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With your empty dinner plates in front of you, your conversation goes on. He’s just staring at you, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. It makes him look like a bunny.

“How long are you staying in town this time?” you question, already assuming since he usually stays a week or 2 before he flies out again.

“5 days.” His answer is almost immediate, like he knew you were going to ask that question. It’s only natural, though, you usually ask him that.

“How was Paris?” you ask as you reach for your glass of water and bring it to your lips, keeping eye contact with him over the rim of your glass.

“It was good.” He leans back into his chair, rubbing his stomach which he always does after dinner. “Cold, though.”

“Yeah? I bet some lucky ladies kept you warm, no?” you tease, knowing he hates talking about that with you. You watch as he cringes, adjusting in his seat as he sits straight up.

He glances at you for a moment with a slight frown on his face and then rises to his feet, gathering the dirty plates and utensils before heading into the kitchen. You’re used to him completely ignoring questions like that.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you momentarily look out the window. You’ve always pushed him to try new things like you do, that includes moving on from you.

He simply refuses.

You need him to move on from you so you can move on from him. It’s that simple. But every single time he stands before you, it’s like he sucks all the strength to turn him down out of your body.

The water runs and you hear the clatter of dishes, assuming he’s washing them. You get up and clean the table before walking up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his back.

He dries his hands with your kitchen towel and turns around in your arms, cupping your face delicately, his pretty brown eyes scanning your features.

“Will you let me kiss you?” he quietly asks, thumb rubbing back and forth on your cheek.

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your eyes shift from his left eye to his right repeatedly, a look of contemplation on your face. You both know that you really, really want him to, though.

Does he kiss the other people too? Does he caress their faces like he does you? Hold them so gently?

With a curt nod of your head, he finally leans down and presses his lips to yours. With your chin tilted up to meet his lips, your eyelids flutter close instantly, your heart rate picking up whilst a bubbling heat spreads through your body, starting in your stomach and growing all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

His lips were made to be on top of yours.

His kiss gets a bit needier, his hands holding your face so gently yet so firm, as if he’s scared to let you go. He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, a soft muffled sound resounding in your throat.

The wet muscle you feel poking your lip doesn’t go unnoticed by you and you happily welcome his tongue, letting him lick into your mouth. By now his kiss has gotten heavy, tongue ready to devour you and swallow you whole.

With your hands still on his waist, you squeeze him gently, wanting to feel more of him. Needing to feel more of him.

After a few more minutes of passionate making out, he pulls back and deeply inhales. He’s still holding your face, tilting it even more to make you look up at him. “Will you let me fuck you?”

He always asks this when you see him again. You always agree.

Your heart jolts in your chest at the unexpectedly expected words. If the making out didn’t already leave you soaking, those words surely did.

You quickly nod to his question. As if you’d ever decline. He drops his hands, moving one to wrap around your wrist as he starts leading you toward your bedroom.

He sneaks his arm around your waist and pushes you toward your bed again, slowly letting you down onto your mattress. You reach for your pyjama shorts and yank them down, leaving you in your tank top and panties.

He drops down onto his knees in front of the bed, dragging you to the edge of your mattress by your thighs. You softly gasp at the sudden force pulling you, propping yourself up on your elbows as you set your gaze on him between your thighs, intently.

He takes his time, bringing his index finger to your clothed sex to gently rub all over your slit. Your hips jolt up like they’ve got a mind of their own but Jungkook presses you down by your lower stomach with one hand, shaking his head.

“Let me take my time, baby. You know I’ve missed this pussy.”

The moment those words leave his mouth, you let yourself fall back on your mattress. You’re sprawled on your bed with your ex-boyfriend in between your thighs and if you told yourself at 16 that this is who you were going to be when you grow up, that girl would’ve laughed at you.

Because you don’t dwell. You don’t go back. You don’t cling to the past.

But all those thoughts instantly disappear like fog in your head the moment Jungkook presses a kiss to your clit through your panties. A soft gasp leaves your lips, your fingers tucking under the hem of your panties as you try to yank them off.

He simply chuckles as he allows you to take them off, his eyes glued to your glistening sex. He wastes no time latching his tongue onto your wetness, licking a thick stripe up your slit before wrapping his lips around your pulsating clit. He hums in delight at the taste of you.

A cry falls from your lips, your fingers making their way to the top of his skull. You tug on the loose strands that frame his perfect face so well as you grind into his mouth.

“Hm, missed me?” he purrs, pressing you back down by pushing on your pelvic bone. He slides his hands up the back of your thighs from your ass to the back of your knees, pushing them back as he continues to devour you.

Soft moans spill from your lips as you arch your back off the bed, toes curling at the sensation of your clit being sucked on with so much fervor. “Jungkook!” you cry, pressing your palms into your eyes to try and keep yourself from bursting into tears at the pleasure.

He simply hums against your sex, dark eyes peeking up at you. His tongue slides down your slit, teasing your hole before licking back up to your clit. “There’s nothing better than the taste of this pussy,” he mumbles before wrapping his lips around your clit again, gently sucking on it.

A soft moan bubbles up the back of your throat, leaving your lips which makes him smirk against your skin. “Hm, even better than your little girlfriends?” you tease. You always use the words ‘little girlfriends’ to refer to all the girls in the city he fucks besides you, all the girls he fucks overseas, all the girls he fucks that aren’t you.

He peeks up at you again, this time a frown on his brows. You steal a glance at him when you sense him looking at you, a sheepish smile on your face. He pulls back and wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand as he lets go of your legs and rises to his feet.

You eternally groan at the fact that made him stop fucking you with his mouth but the show he’s giving you as he removes his shirt almost makes you thankful that he did.

“Yeah. And I fucked a bunch of ‘em in Paris,” he replies as he tugs his sweatpants down his legs, kicking them somewhere across the floor.

The slight raise in your eyebrows shows that you’re surprised. Jungkook never comments on your attempts at provoking him and mentions of other women.

You just shot yourself in the foot because you really, really don’t want to imagine him fucking someone else. You usually bring it up to provoke him and he usually dismisses it but this time, he puts a vivid image in your head and you don’t like it.

You huff as you sit up on your bed, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His response is immediate, his hand reaching for the hem of your tank top. You let him pull it off your body and allow him to ogle at your breasts.

He tosses your tank top at the growing pile of clothes on your floor before licking his thumb and bringing it to one of your nipples, rubbing circles around it with his wet thumb.

You sigh at the stimulation. “Were they good?” You can’t help but ask him this question, your voice coming out a bit choked but he doesn’t comment on it.

“They were fucking great.”

You almost bite a piece off your tongue, the entity that’s called Jealousy menacingly looming over your body and ready to devour you whole. You know you always provoke him but you only do it because he never responds.

You don’t comment further, you just reach for the hem of his boxers but he stops you. He swats your hands away and pushes you further back onto your mattress, so you scoot back whilst still sitting up right. He climbs into your bed next to you, sitting down on his ankles as he leans over you.

You place your hands behind you, leaning back on them as you glance up at him. He’s staring down at you, hand sliding up and down your thigh. With a little pressure, he spreads your thighs further apart and his fingers find their way back to your sex.

You grunt once his fingers make contact with your clit again, a tiny shiver running down your legs. You bend your legs at the knees, placing your feet on the edge of your bed and spreading your thighs further, still looking up at Jungkook who is staring you down like he wants to absolutely ruin you.

The tips of his middle and ring finger start rubbing consistent circles onto your pussy and you scrunch your eyebrows together, mouth falling open.

“Whose pussy is this?” he murmurs, fingers sliding down your slit and rubbing in between your folds. You moan softly at the sensation, thighs jerking in the process.

You quip, “Mine.” You know that’s not the answer he’s looking for, especially with the way his eyes narrow at you.

“Mad because I finally answered your stupid questions for once?” he scoffs, fingers sliding straight into you which earns a surprised gasp from you.

Your eyebrows scrunch together even more, your mouth still agape and your big eyes pleading for more. It’s the face you know Jungkook can’t resist, he usually kisses you right away.

But this time, he doesn’t. He doesn’t kiss you. He just stares you down as his hand starts slamming into your sex, fingers rubbing against your slick walls with each movement.

The lewd sound of your wetness almost embarrasses you but your mind is too clouded, his lustful eyes never leaving yours.

Before you can fathom what just happened, you yelp out in painful pleasure. Jungkook has retreated his fingers and brought his palm down with a slap to your wet pussy, making your legs jerk and your hands reach up to grab at his biceps.

“Ah!” you cry out at the sudden impact, your nose warming up and you know you’re about to start tearing up.

“I asked you a question.” His voice resounds inside your head, it almost makes the return of his fingers inside of you go unnoticed by you.

He fucks his fingers into you, palm slamming down on your clit whilst his fingers thrust in and out of you.

Moans spill from your throat as you hold onto his neck now, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious torture on your sex.

“Answer me, Y/N.”

You cry out when he slaps your pussy once again, your hips jolting under him but he pushes you down by your lower abdomen. He enters his fingers again, palm still continuously slamming down on your clit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you manage to say without sobbing, the pleasure he’s giving you is making you dizzy.

“Bullshit,” he grunts, picking up the pace of his hand.

You want to pull his face closer by tugging on his neck but he doesn’t budge, his hand adamant on making you cum and it’s succeeding.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, clenching around his fingers with your eyes shut tightly. You wince when he pulls his fingers out but you have no time to react when he suddenly rubs all 4 fingers in a waving motion against your clit at an incomprehensible speed.

You cry out again, squirming under him when a different kind of knot in your stomach snaps. You open your eyes just in time to watch yourself squirt all over his hand, all over your sheets, all over your floor.

All the strength in your body dissolves and you fall back against your mattress, the sensation of squirting all over your mattress still going as you writhe under him.

His torture never stops, the demonic speed in which he assaults your clit is enough to have tears bursting out of your eyesockets and the longer he keeps going, the more you keep squirting. “You gonna answer or want me to keep going?

His name falls out of your mouth in a series of sobs. “Fuck–! Yeah, I’m mad!” you admit, pushing against his arm to try and get him to finally stop.

And he does, he pulls his hand away. He takes a while to just stare you down and if you weren’t already, you’d describe the feeling as feeling naked under him.

“So then, why do you keep asking me if you know you’ll get mad?” he asks as he starts tugging his boxers down, allowing his erection to spring free. He kicks his underwear off the bed as he uses his wet hand to pump himself, essentially lubing himself up with your slick.

Not that you’d need any type of lube now, you are completely and disgustingly soaked.

You’re still on your back, trying to catch your breath when his hand slips under the back of your knee. He spreads you for him again and circles his tip all around your sensitive sex.

“Jungkook,” you warn, the effects of overstimulation making anything you say sound like a pathetic cry.

“Shhh, I know.” He pushes into you and usually circles your clit with his thumb but he doesn’t this time, for obvious reasons. You’re grateful, though. Jungkook can get pretty rough with his so-called punishments – that are absolutely sublime – but you don’t think you could take any more clit stimulation now.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans forward, his silver chain dangling in your face. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away to watch your face as his hips start slamming into you.

You sob his name, legs falling limb after an attempt at wrapping them around his waist. He leans down and presses his lips to your cheeks, softly kissing your tears away.

You sniffle, enjoying his proximity as he continues to fuck into you. Soft moans escape his throat too and it’s your favorite sound in the whole world. He sounds angelic. His lips retreat from your face in the meantime as he watches your face, a look of admiration on his.

“Do you kiss them as well?” you quietly whimper, sincerity in your eyes instead of the usual teaseful look.

He observes you for a moment longer, gaze dropping to your lips quickly before returning to your eyes.

You’d tease Jungkook about being with other women, something he hated and he never took the bait, and in the two years after your break up of the two of you casually having sex whenever he’s back in town, you’d never crossed the emotional territory. Because you had always taught yourself to move on, to not dwell, to not beat yourself up.

But with Jungkook, it’s just inexplicable. You want him, you need him, you breathe him.

You didn’t expect this time to be so emotional. So raw. So unchanged.

“Would kissing be worse than fucking?” he asks, dragging you out of your thoughts. You try to fight the quiver in your bottom lip but you can’t help it, your hands wrapping around each of his wrists that are caging your head in between them.

You turn your head to look away from his overwhelming gaze, pressing your lips to the side of his arm.

Out of the blue, he picks up the pace and starts fucking into you again. Several moans and cries fall from your lips, muffled by the skin of his arm. You sense his eyes on you from your peripherals but you don’t return the eye contact, you can’t. You might burst into tears. And this time it won’t be from pleasure.

He takes the opportunity to press his lips to your neck, kissing the skin under your earlobe and making his way down.

The words ‘I love you’ are stuck in your throat, threatening to blurt out. With all the strength you can gather, you swallow them down, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

“No one will ever compare to you.” His voice is muffled from kissing your skin but you can hear him loud and clear, aside from the skin slapping and the wet sounds from your pussy being pummeled by his hips.

You shake your head in response to him, not wanting to hear that at this moment. You’ll just fall in love with him all over again and you’d rather die, you’d much rather die.

“Shut up,” you mumble after another sniffle, turning your head to face him again. He takes his lips off your throat, letting his gaze drape all over you again and it makes you feel so small.

His thrusts come to an abrupt halt, making you wince. In one swift motion, he pulls out of you with a grunt. He sits back on his ankles and gently – yet with a firm grip – turns you around onto your stomach. His hands return to your body with a tight grip around your hips, yanking your ass up into the air.

“You want to know how I fuck them? I’ll show you,” he says breathlessly as he shoves himself right back into your wetness, fingers sinking into your skin as he pounds his hips into your ass and the back of your thighs.

This is how he fucked you when you’d have an argument back when you were together, when he was mad at you, when you were acting up. He would say he didn’t want those eyes of yours looking up at him if he was fucking you with no emotion, with no warmth, with no love.

This is his way of answering your annoying questions, you suppose.

You mewl under him, your hands gripping the soaking sheets tightly to support yourself from the momentum of his thrusts. A low grunt rumbles in his chest when you clench your walls around him. His speed is almost demonic at this point, your body being sent into overdrive as your stomach tightens again.

“Jungkook! Slow down, I’m gonna–”

You’re cut off by a harsh slap to your left asscheek, your teeth sinking into the bunched up sheets in front of your face as the stinging and warmth from the spank spreads through your skin. You yelp in pain yet pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets even tighter. You usually don’t orgasm from solely penetration but the overstimulation is causing you to physically feel every single one of your nerves electrifying in your nether regions.

“Cum, then. I’ll fuck you through as many orgasms as you want.” The pace of his merciless pounding never falters and it has you seeing every celestial body in the universe every time you blink. He grunts loudly as you start clenching around him, his hand reaching for your forearm and pulling it back to press it into your back as he continues to fuck you.

Your other hand reaches behind you, pressing flat into his lower abdomen to get him to slow down but he just swats your hand away. You attempt it for a second time and this time he grabs your wrist, bringing it next to your other arm that he’s already pressing into your back, now caging both of your arms in his grasp against your back as his hips slam into your ass.

A cry rips through your throat, eyes tightly squeezing shut as you drool into the covers. Your orgasm hits you like a fucking train, the knot in your stomach snapping and your entire body heats up as if you’ve been set on fire. Your slick walls constantly clench around Jungkook’s dick, making him grunt your name alongside a few swear words. His hips stutter in their movement, speed faltering as you continue to cry out in pleasure under him.

He curses under his breath, letting go of your arms. He presses his hands down on your ass until you’re fully lying on your stomach, face still pressed into the sheets. He never pulls out, on the contrary, he continues to fuck into you as you sob under him, the overstimulation has you squirming like a fish out of water.

There’s a pressure against your upper back, one that you quickly realize is his bare chest as he leans into your ear. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathlessly says into your ear, a soft moan following his words and you feel his dick twitch inside of you. He’s close.

“Fuck,” he grunts, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder. His thrusts start getting inconsistent and sloppy.

“Jungkook,” you sob, a sniff following your cry and it’s the final thing you know he needs to get that knot in his stomach to snap. It doesn’t take long after for him to shoot his load into you, coating your walls with his seed.

He moans in your ear softly, something you swear is the single best sound on Earth. Paired with the best feeling on Earth, having Jungkook fuck the shit out of you.

After a few more lazy thrusts, continuously fucking his load into you, he comes to a full stop. His hips are still pressed into your ass and his forehead is pressed against your shoulder.

He pulls out and collapses onto your mattress, right next to your body. You crack one of your eyes open to peek at him. He’s on his back, the back of his hand pressed into his forehead with his eyes shut tight as he’s focused on steadying his breath.

You stare at him for a moment, captivated by his utter beauty. Your eyes trail the bridge of his nose, his pretty black lashes, his red cheeks and swollen lips. The thin layer of sweat makes him look like he’s covered in glitter, his cheeks glistening like a glazed donut, the pretty moles on his face making his soft skin look like a starry night sky.

The small cut on his cheekbone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, of course. The wound has seemingly healed but the skin around it is still purple and has some traces of yellow too. He’s way too beautiful to be fighting for a living.

You quickly avert your eyes when he opens his eyes again, staring straight at you as if he sensed you staring at him. You clear your throat awkwardly as you slowly turn onto your other side, giving him your cold back.

A finger starts drawing patterns on the bare skin of your back and you’re incapable of stopping the goosebumps from popping out of your skin. The mattress dips, telling you he’s scooting closer until he’s completely pressed up into your back.

He places his lips on your shoulder blade, not moving them, not kissing your shoulder. Just keeping them there, like they belong there, like they’re magnetized.

Neither of you say anything.

Nothing has to be said. You just enjoy the moment.

Because you know once he walks out your front door, you won’t see him until the day he has to catch another flight.

You know where he goes, you know what he does, you know how he spends the nights when he’s not with you.

He just showed you.

And you have no right to feel any way about it. You broke his heart.

Shattered his heart into so many pieces that you’re still the first one he sees when he’s back in town, you’re still the only one he actually lies with.

You’re the only one.

But you’re also not the only one.

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You stir, eyes fluttering open in the darkness of your room. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and recognize your surroundings. It’s then when you notice Jungkook’s tattooed arm lazily slung around your waist. Soft puffs leave his mouth, his breathing slow and very quiet snores fill up the room.

You silently reach for your phone, turning the screen to you and almost being blinded by the light of your phone. You squint as you try to figure out what time it is. 6:01AM.

You’re startled by the sudden jerk of his arm and you realize he’s waking up. With a turn of your head, you glance at him. He peeks at you through one eye, a sheepish smile on his lips.

“Sorry,” you start, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head, his lips puckered as he leans into your face. He places his lips on your jaw, softly kissing down your neck which awakens the goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin.

You squirm once his breath hits your neck. “That tickles,” you giggle as you scoot away from him but he doesn’t let you get too far, quickly climbing on top of you.

You turn onto your back, tired eyes staring up at him, his beautiful hair falling forward which frames his face beautifully. It’s now that you’re reminded you’re both still naked and it makes your cheeks instantly heat up. Not because you’re embarrassed but because Jungkook’s body is temptation itself.

His muscles are soft and squishy now that they’re not flexed but you know how tight and hard his body really is. Your eyes trail the contours of his pecs and biceps, at least what you can make out in the dark.

His black locks must’ve escaped the elastic that kept his hair together in a bun whilst he was sleeping. Your hands automatically reach up, running your fingers through his beautiful hair to push it out of his face. “It’s getting quite long, hm?” you muse, ruffling through it in the meantime.

He lets you, of course, a soft chuckle leaving his throat as you play with his hair.

“You don’t like it?” he quips, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. You can hear the attempt at making it sound like a joke but you know him well enough to know he values your opinion about him.

Your tongue slides over your teeth from left to right, fighting your smirk. “Are you crazy? I love it.” You tug the hair on the back of his head, smirking when he hisses at the grip you have on him.

He pokes your rib which makes you release his hair, a quiet yelp leaving your lips at the feeling. “What time is it?” he mumbles as he buries his face in the crook over your neck, leaving wet pecks all over your skin.

“6 in the fucking morning,” you groan as you squeeze his waist, nails grazing his skin gently, rubbing patterns on his exposed skin.

He grunts as he pulls away from your neck, rolling off of you in the meantime. Your eyes are greeted with his bare back as he sits up in your bed, your hand automatically tracing the back muscles he’s putting on display for you. “I should leave, Yoongi-hyung needs me to go take new photos for my passport,” he mumbles as he lazily rubs his face.

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Jungkook’s coach-slash-manager, Min Yoongi. You haven’t seen him since the breakup. “Already?” you ask as you crawl toward him. “Can’t you stay a little while longer?” You press your bare chest into his back and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing soft kisses to his earlobe.

His hands automatically move up to yours on his chest, bringing one of your hands up to his lips to press a kiss to it. “I was supposed to do it yesterday because I ran into some trouble at the airport. I have to fly to Australia in a couple of days.” He peels your hands off his body and gets up, pulling you up with him.

“Let’s go take a shower, we passed out in all that shit,” he laughs as he nods towards the big wet patch, right where you squirted. You’re instantly reminded of the fact you both passed out right after that intense fuck session, you didn’t even clean up after yourself. Gross.

You wince in disgust and scrunch your nose up as you nod quickly, swinging your legs off the bed and placing your feet on the floor. You stand up and let him lead you to your bathroom, he could do it blindfolded – obviously, he used to live here.

You awkwardly wobble to the bathroom, the load he fucked into you last night threatening to spill out of you with each step you take.

You switch the lights on and let him close the door behind you, trapping you against it in between his arms. He takes this opportunity to kiss you softly, catching you off guard by the sudden affection.

You welcome his kiss nonetheless, your hands roaming all over his shoulders and squeezing his muscles. You can’t get enough of him.

He abruptly pulls away and rubs your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, something unfamiliar pooling in his dark eyes as he stares you down. He parts his lips and it looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t. He closes his mouth and takes a step back, turning around and reaches for the lever to let the water run before he enters the shower.

A frown climbs onto your brows but you don’t comment on it. You won’t push him to talk. You quietly follow him, simply just getting into the shower and sliding the glass door shut. You cross your arms nervously as you wait for the water to heat up.

Jungkook is already used to cold showers so he hops right under, letting the droplets of water trickle down his honey skin. You reach out to him, suddenly getting the urge to slap his buttcheek, and you do.

He grunts as he glares at you over his shoulder, his buttcheeks clenching in response. You laugh as you reach for the body wash, squirting a generous amount onto your palm before you rub your hands all over his back. It’s almost like it happens automatically, he always used to ask you if you could wash his back for him.

You rub down to his buttcheeks and he whines your name childishly, making you laugh loudly. “Come on, you know I love your booty,” you tease, reaching around his waist from the back to grope his pecs.

He throws his head back in exasperation but he can’t help but chuckle, the lukewarm water finally hitting your skin. You sigh as you hold onto him, feeling his heart drum against your palm.

It’s quiet for a moment, the sound of the water hitting your bodies and the tiles filling up your eardrums. That is, until Jungkook breaks the silence.

“Have you been with anyone?” he quietly asks. The sudden question knocks the air out of your lungs for a moment because he has never asked this before in the 2 years you’ve been broken up.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he could feel your heart thumping against his back.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook’s body tenses under your skin and it isn’t long until he turns around to face you, a blank expression on his face but he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you know how it feels knowing you’re overseas fucking other people? Even when you’re here,” you explain in a panic, heart racing as he just stares you down intently.

“You’re the one that walked out on me, Y/N.”

His words sting.

“You know why I did that, Jungkook,” you whisper, tearing your gaze away from him as you pull your arms away from him to rub your own arms in an attempt to comfort yourself.

He huffs, “Yeah, and it was bullshit.”

Your head snaps back in his direction, anger bubbling in your chest and threatening to burst out of your throat in a pathetic cry. “What’s that supposed to mean, you dickhead?”

“Exactly what you think it means.” He nonchalantly shrugs, looking away from you for a moment as he rinses the bodywash. “Breaking up with me because I was ‘gone all the time’ and had a ‘dangerous job’, but you’re still here. You still let me hold you, you still let me kiss you, you still let me fuck you.”

You scoff, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. You spin on your heels and reach out to the glass door of the shower, ready to make your exit but Jungkook is quicker. He doesn’t let you.

He pulls you back by your bicep, tugging on it until your back meets his chest. “You’re not going to rob me of the little time I have with you,” he mumbles as he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Let go.”

“No.” His reply is instantaneous, arms strongly caging you in.

You blink back the tears threatening to fall, his proximity enough to calm you down yet drive you crazy. You shake your head and begin, “Jungkook, I–”

“I’ll always want you, Y/N. Just say the words.”

You freeze, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You already know this. Jungkook doesn’t shy away from telling you about his feelings and reminds you every once in a while.

Before you can let your mind wander even more, you’re turned around by his strong arms in one swift motion, both his hands moving up to cup your face.

He tilts your face to make you look at him but you stay quiet. The words he’s yearning for you to say never come.

“Kiss me,” you whimper, not able to take this silence and not in the mood for a staring competition.

He doesn’t waste any time, he instantly leans down and presses his lips against yours whilst slowly pushing you backwards until your back collides with the cold tiles.

You deepen the kiss, your hands roaming his chest as he licks into your mouth. A grunt resounds in the back of your throat at the feeling of his hand slowly making its way down your waist, to your hip, to finally your bum.

He grabs a handful of your asscheek, squeezing it and it elicits a lewd moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to feel his growing erection inflating against your lower stomach and you reach for it.

You pump him slowly, making him grunt into your mouth. You rub your thumb all over his tip, gathering his precum and spreading it all over the head of his dick.

He pulls away from the kiss, his head dropping to your shoulder as you continue to pleasure him. His hand continues to knead your asscheek, a low swear word escaping his lips.

“Look at me,” you whisper, hand still jerking him off at a torturously slow pace.

He lifts his head off your shoulder slowly and let’s his eyes meet yours, head tilted downwards as he towers over you.

“How does it feel, knowing I did this with another man?” you ask him, a clear attempt at provoking him as you peek at him through your pretty lashes.

Something between an angry scowl and a confused frown etches onto his face and he merely grunts in response. His hand stops kneading your asscheek and before you know it, he’s turned you around, your front pressed into the tiles.

You’ve let go of his dick, hands now on each side of your breasts against the tiles in front of you. Your cheek is pressed against it as well, head turned enough to see him over your shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear about that fucking garbage,” he grunts, his hand pressed flat against the spot in between your shoulder blades as he holds you against the wall firmly.

You huff, but before you know it, his hand comes down to your asscheek in a powerful slap. It makes you jolt under his hold, a yelp ripping through your throat.

He spreads your asscheeks and slowly rubs the tip of his dick between your folds, earning a moan from you and you relax under his touch.

He pushes into you, eliciting a gasp from you at the intrusion. The delicious burn makes you arch your back more. He doesn’t really wait, he just starts slamming his hips into you, a series of cries and moans falling from your lips.

“Gonna fuck me like one of your hoes again?” you snark in between moans. Another slap to your asscheek makes you grunt and you look over your shoulder at him again.

He doesn’t even look at you, just snakes his hand around your face and drapes his palm over your mouth as he peels your face off the tiles and toward him, making you arch your back even more.

He continues to fuck angrily into you. “I fucking hate you,” he grunts, eyes glued to his dick disappearing inside of you.

You moan into his palm, eyes rolling back as the head of his dick repeatedly kisses your cervix. “Jungkook–!”

His other hand grips onto your waist, keeping you steady as he pounds into you. The strength in his hand has you seeing stars, if he put just a little more strength into it, you’re convinced he could crack your ribs.

“Come with me to Australia,” he whispers in your ear, lips softly brushing against the shell.

You close your eyes as you listen to his words. He’s often offered to take you with him, offered any way to keep seeing you, to keep being with you, to still have you.

“Please,” he whispers in desperation, the hand on your waist moving down to your sex as he furiously rubs your clit.

You cry into his hand, squirming and writhing under him but he has you under control. His thrusts never falter in speed and it has your eyes rolling back as you recognize the familiar knot in your stomach growing.

“Am gonna cum,” you whimper into his palm, but he doesn’t comment as he continues to destroy you.

He presses a kiss to the back of your ear, teeth gently nibbling on your earlobe and you slowly start losing control.

Your entire body is set alight, his hand leaving your mouth so he can listen to your pretty moans for him. Your orgasm comes to you like a punch to the gut, your eyes shutting tightly as pure bliss takes over you. You squirm under him, hips involuntarily jolting and knees buckling.

Both his hands return to your waist as he continues to fuck into you, wanting to get to his own release.

You’re fucked out, pressing your cheek against the tiles as moans continue to spill from your lips.

It doesn’t take long after for Jungkook to cum, shooting his release straight into you as he moans your name softly into your ear alongside a few swear words, which you’ve grown used to.

His thrusts get inconsistent, his breaths heavy and his grip on you loosens until he comes to a complete stop.

You stay there, mind clouded with nothing but Jungkook.

You’d considered going with him often but being on planes and having jet lag every few days wasn’t your dream, it was his. And while you would give up your life for him, you didn’t want him giving up his life for you. You know he’d start taking less fights, training, matches just to please you, to be with you, to love you.

He quietly pulls out but you don’t budge. When he notices, he takes it upon himself to clean you up, draping the showerhead over you, washing your body, your hair, his body, his hair.

The rest of the shower is quiet.

Not a single word was spoken.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

You both get dressed in silence, the occasional clinking of metal and ruffling of fabric being the only sounds in the room.

After he’s fully dressed and you’re back in your comfortable pajamas, you head down the corridor with him closely following behind you.

A soft exhale pushes past your lips when you unlock your front door as he puts his shoes on. You suddenly slouch, pressing your forehead against the front door. You think about the situation for a moment, the ruffling of him putting his shoes on being the only thing you hear.

“What?” he asks once he straightens his back and sees you looking out of it.

You push yourself off the door, turning to glance at him before momentarily looking away. “What are we doing, Jungkook?”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is not right.” You shake your head, your hand moving up to adjust the earring in your earlobe. “Why do you keep showing up at my front door?”

You’d never asked him that before so he’s surprised, the slight raise in his eyebrows being proof of that.

His brown eyes stare you down, a look of contemplation on his face before he takes a step closer to you – making your heartbeat mess up its perfectly fine pace.

“Why do you keep opening it for me?”

He knows he’s got you, that much is clear. You’re at fault as much as he is. You know you shouldn’t keep letting him in but you do and you always will. You’ll always want him.

He reaches for the door handle but you make no effort to move out of his way, essentially letting him cage you in between him and the door.

You really don’t want him to go.

You prepare to speak, clearing your throat in hopes that your voice doesn’t give out. “I’m trying to forget about you. You know that.”

His gaze burns holes in your irises, a whimper threatening to burst from your throat at the intensity. He leans down and presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss but pulls away too quickly for you, your lips chasing his for a split second before you realize he has already pulled away.

“I will never let you forget about me.”

The words leave his mouth with a certain arrogance yet desperation before he pulls you toward him by your waist. You think he’s going to kiss you again but he’s simply pulling you out of the way, to allow himself to open the door and leave.

And he does, your sad eyes intently watching as he exits your once-shared home and closes the door behind him, luggage in hand.

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⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

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[jensettermandu]

fish that drown - huh yunjin

content; smut, slight angst, fluff (kind of), a little plot

pairing; g!p yunjin x female reader

content; implications of an unhealthy relationship, praising, blowjob, p in v :D, slightly rough (?), a slight size thing (Y/n being/having smaller proportions than yunjin??), bulging, Y/n calls her Jen, small age gap (y/n is younger by two years), probably everything

synopsis; together it feels like drowning in the best way possible because anything above the surface feels too cold for them despite it burning whenever they drown together. each time they give each other another chance as they find back to each other with nothing but love forgetting everything that made them leave to begin with.

wc; 7k+

masterlist

Each second was tantalising, it was filled with dim colours seeping through the smogged window with raindrops holding the lights of the outside in them. Each breath was a promise of another second to live and chances for more empty promises. The promise of breaking habits to make it work despite them being routines that stayed forever. It was the comfort of now rather than the worries of tomorrow, knowing it would be a cycle forever. 

Arms securely wrapped around Y/n as they lay together as if they had a forever together. As if they would grow old together and love each other through thick and thin, but they had always been walking a thin line between love and hate. 

It was the problem of falling for each other’s flowers, but never taking time to get to know the roots. It got difficult to figure out what to do when fall came and everything crumbled, the petals falling and blowing away with the wind, all that was left was a promise of coming back by spring. 

“Yunjin, I seriously have to go.” She tried because despite them being securely wrapped around her, it didn’t mean that they were home. Certain places would just never feel like a home no matter how much of a home they were. It could be their natural habitat, but they would always be prey and that made it difficult to feel at home. It was still hard to let go especially when the place appealed so much to one and they wished for it to be theirs only.

Was spring close?

“Stay, I want you to stay, Y/n–” Yunjin sighed, her fingers brushing over the younger girl’s spine as she turned over to reach to the floor for her clothes. Her palm smoothed over Y/n’s waist and like painting someone with scorching metal she slid it over to her stomach, leaving her every touch to linger forever on Y/n’s body. It was like empty canvases and when they met they became the artwork that was only visible through their eyes. “We can go out in the morning and talk.” She suggested and the feline in her arms exhaled as she got pulled back into her. 

Y/n’s body was dwelling in the fire, every part of her was enjoying it, her heart was beating heavily because the feelings Yunjin made her feel were heavy from how much she felt with the ginger. Her brain was the only rational thing at the moment, but rationality was a curse when they were together and jumping head-first into the unknown waters was more thrilling than dipping toes to test them. The best thing about it was the lily pads that looked pretty on the surface but were more beautiful from under the water when they tangled around their limbs and dragged them down further with no chance of escape. 

Spring had come and Y/n knew that she wasn’t leaving and neither was Yunjin.

“My members’ are going to strangle me if I am not back at the dorm tonight.” She mumbled, opening her phone to see that she had already received texts wondering when she would be back. It wasn’t the going out that was the problem, it was the limbs she got tangled in that were and they were either fed up or they cared too much to continue watching their friends drown. A mix of both perhaps. 

Neither of the two could help it. They just knew the second that they met that they would fall in love with each other shortly and they did. 

The colours from above the water looked so much prettier from under the surface where they drowned in each other. 

“Tell them you’re staying over then.” 

That only meant that they were set in stone that had grown moss, scraping it away to reveal their names together again.

Y/n stared at her phone while Yunjin’s hand ran over her stomach, caressing the soft and smooth skin that was warm. The redhead's lips slowly started to trail kisses along her shoulder while grabbing hold of Y/n’s waist, pulling the girl closer to her because no amount of closeness was ever enough. 

“They will kill me if I do that–” Y/n was interrupted by her phone that started to buzz as she was receiving a call. It made Yunjin glance up at the phone screen while propping herself up on her arm beside Y/n’s head. The girl declined the call with Yunjin going right back to engraving herself on her skin with delicate kisses that were like the flapping of a butterfly's wings as she kissed up to the girl’s neck. 

Y/n declined the call once again because she would have difficulty deciding if she should tell the truth or lie to Jimin. She was quite sure her members would give her an earful after watching her cry for the past two months. 

They told Y/n to forget about Yunjin and everything she did and to move on. 

Y/n did and so she ended up right back with Yunjin after forgetting why she left to begin with as she had moved on from the bad. 

They both forgot why they left and only saw the good and it was enough to get back in the waters together. 

0:22

jimin> answer

0:22

> what is it?

0:23

jimin> answer the call

0:24

> why??

0:24

jimin> because i told you to answer?

Y/n glanced away from the phone and at their reflections in the big glass windows where water was trickling down, illuminating the city lights with the sky shedding tears. It was cold outside which made it so much more difficult to leave when she was drowning in Yunjin’s warmth. Each breath was filled with the scent that filled their lungs, it was like falling, but not through the sky, there was no pressure in the fall. It was like slowly drowning. 

It was agonisingly gratifying to be with each other.

Her fingers tangled in the red hair as Yunjin wrapped her arm around Y/n’s waist, holding her against her body. The older let out a humid hum that painted Y/n’s skin with goosebumps before she pushed her face into the crook of her neck, her kisses wet and languid. 

The feline eyes left the window where she had watched the two bodies slowly get prepared for the dance that took two again, knowing that neither was leaving. She looked at her phone when it started to vibrate in her hold again.

“You can just tell the truth and we won’t have to run around hiding.” She couldn’t help but whisper and put her thoughts in Y/n’s head. 

It made Y/n sigh as she knew that it would be better to just say the truth. She’s been seeing Yunjin again after yet another break-up that was supposed to be the final goodbye. It felt impossible to say goodbyes when all they did was end up together the next time they ran into each other or thought too much of the other. The past two weeks had been spent hiding from their members, sneaking to restaurants, on dates, and to hotels after and now Yunjin had gotten Y/n into her group dorm. 

They hadn’t been home and when they did get there no one bothered checking who exactly Yunjin brought over. Y/n hadn’t thought far enough to think about how she would leave, but probably early at dawn. 

How long could they hide their spring from everyone else?

“Do you genuinely think that’s a good idea?” 

“No.” 

Y/n hummed and answered the phone call at last.

There was no way to emancipate from this because love made them willing slaves. 

“It’s late and you just left hours ago without a word. Where are you?”

Y/n knew that she never usually left without a word, but she didn’t know what lies to tell anymore. It felt unfair to both of them, but the girl was scared of receiving disappointed looks from her friends who had been there for her after she had cried herself to sleep every night. Y/n felt horrible for shedding so many tears, putting them under her gloomy cloud only to end up with the cause of it again.

“I'm not with Yunjin.” 

Somehow she felt the need to defend herself because she didn’t want to think to herself that she was with the girl again. It had been on and off for three years and at some point it had to be enough, didn’t it? It wasn’t time for it yet though. Their love had yet to die. 

“I didn’t think you would be either.”

“Why not?” 

She frowned somewhere between relieved and disappointed that Jimin didn’t think that she was with her ex-girlfriend. Perhaps the hurt of thinking that she had moved on and would see someone else just like Yunjin. She wasn’t ready to see someone else, she was even less ready to see Yunjin with someone else. The only people they were seeing were each other with the past forgotten and all the reasons why they left to begin with. That had been the point all along, to forget what the other had done which only ended with reasons to get back together. 

“You make it sound like you want me to think it.”

“I’m just curious why you are so sure.”

“Minjeong was talking with Chaewon to see if you were there, but she told her that Yunjin had someone over.”

It went silent, the girl on the other end waiting for Y/n to talk who looked down at Yunjin in the neon shades and colours that seeped through the windows. It was all she could see whenever she was with her, all the colours and the shades, they were comforting and made her feel safe. The colours that Yunjin painted her with were her comfort. 

“Oh.” Was all she was able to get out, thinking about how relieved everyone seemed that the two weren’t together. 

“I’m sorry, I maybe shouldn’t have–”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m more than fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” 

Y/n reassured her because she was fine in the end, she was with Yunjin and she didn’t need to be anywhere else. She liked these cold waters that her skin got used to, they felt warm, and they filled her lungs and burned which caused so much warmth to course through them. There was no escaping it as they were tangled in each other while sinking to the bottom of waters that were their home, that they should swim in, but the second one of them tried to swim the other got pushed down further and grasped onto harder which made them both only sink further into each other. There was no swimming away from the other and leaving them behind in the perfectly blue ocean with twinges of red. 

“Okay, that’s good to hear. When are you coming home then? You never said where you went.” 

“I will be home in the morning, I’m with Hanni.” 

“Okay then, goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight.” 

She dropped her phone on the bed and huffed when Yunjin pulled away from her neck, their legs tangling, it was just them behind the curtains. “I miss you during the day,” Yunjin mumbled as she was unable to get enough of Y/n now that she felt like she somewhat had her back. Her hands held onto the girl’s waist whose fingers trailed along her collarbones as they laid on their sides while looking at each other. 

“Me too,” it had always been a problem, but no matter what they tried to do their arrogance got in the way. The other’s schedule had to sound more important than the others even if it was just about replying to texts a little too late. 

Yunjin smiled, her eyes trailing over every feature on Y/n’s face, her gaze tender enough to feel like it was caressing the younger’s face. It wasn’t enough though, she loved feeling Y/n’s skin under her fingertips, the way it reacted like water to raindrops, letting her sink in and become part of her. Her fingers ran over Y/n’s cheek before brushing hair strands behind her ear.

“What did you miss the most?” Y/n questioned and Yunjin let out a breathless chuckle. 

The redhead propped herself up on her elbow and Y/n stared up at her, laying under the gaze of eyes that held her reflection like water. The girl cupped the feline under her jaw and leaned down, her lips tenderly falling against Y/n’s, pecking them with lingering feelings that never washed away as they were the wet sand at the bottom that would always be there. 

“The way you make me feel like I’m listening to Pink Floyd, it’s like drowning in another world from how psychedelic it feels…It feels unreal with you, Y/n.”

Y/n was sure that there would be waves around her if she were to be in actual water right now from how Yunjin’s words made her heart beat faster and harder. She was the oxygen in a place where there was none such as the bottom of a deep blue ocean of feelings that could be suffocating.

“What songs?” 

“‘Hey You’ and ‘Breathe’.” 

“Of course.” 

Y/n giggled and pushed Yunjin over before straddling her, the covers falling off their bodies and resting behind them. The girl couldn’t help but run her hands over Y/n’s body and feel the skin against hers. She trailed along her waist up and down, feeling the outline of the girl's ribs, feeling each reaction, each nerve that let Y/n know how good Yunjin made her feel. 

“I also missed you just this way, when it’s just us and no one else, especially naked.” 

There truly was nothing greater as Y/n leaned down and kissed Yunjin, closing her eyes and letting the current pull her further down. It felt too good, the cold water against warm skin was soothing, and the colours that would break through the surface, the reflection of the sun during the day and the moon at night. Those things that looked so beautiful, brought sentimental memories, that was what their love felt like. 

Their heads tilted, Y/n parted her lips and let Yunjin press her tongue against hers. It was languid with notes of desire and longing because they had yet to get enough since they started to see each other again. After every time apart, they only grew stronger feelings for each other. The only witness of their love right now were the silent raindrops falling down the window. With passion they tangled with each other, the heat growing as soft sounds started to occupy the room. 

“Fuck–” Yunjin breathed out, her hand tangling itself in the feline’s hair at the back of her head, pulling her back slightly as her lungs burned from how there was no air underwater. She tried to gasp for it, but they always stole every little bit of oxygen around each other. “I missed having you right here,” her voice was almost withering from how much her chest was already heaving, looking Y/n right in the eye as their breaths brushed against their lips. Right here meant in the confines of a safe space that was more than their arms, a room where they had spent countless nights talking, crying, shouting, loving, hating, and sinking. 

The walls were engraved with their love. 

“I know–” Y/n replied, fully aware that the girl had missed her and missed engraving their names on any space left on these walls. She pecked Yunjin’s lips, the girl trying to chase after them by raising her head but she didn’t get the chance. “I missed being right here with you.” Y/n’s walls were witness to those words, knowing how many nights she’d spent crying over the emptiness she felt of not having heavy waves wash over her and drag her into the warmth of Yunjin. 

It didn’t work to be apart. 

Yunjin dropped her head back down as Y/n started to pour her kisses over her skin, it was like a shower of sin, but it was also her salvation as it healed just as much as it scarred. The girl kissed Yunjin’s neck, softly moving her lips, trailing them along her pulsating veins while wetting them with her tongue. The older one hummed at the tender kisses that Y/n left on her skin, making her close her eyes to truly dwell on the feeling.

She reached Yunjin’s collarbones, it was almost like walking carelessly into things the way Y/n sucked on her skin and left marks along her collarbones, gracing her with art made from love and passion. Her hands were soothing over Yunjin’s shoulders, the skin was like powder from how soft it felt while she kissed further down. The girl under her was heaving for breath from how good it felt to be covered with Y/n’s kisses who went down her body, glancing up to see Yunjin looking down at her expectantly with her wet lips parted in anticipation. 

Y/n’s tongue came out, licking a stripe up Yunjin’s stomach that sucked in from the feeling, eyes connected through the blur that everything became so deep under and in the emotions. There was a twinkle in Yunjin’s eyes, a pleading one as she pushed herself up with Y/n in her lap. Her hand pushed back the silky hair as she kissed her lips before kissing along her cheek and over to Y/n’s ear.

“Be good and take me into your mouth, Y/n.” It was somewhere between a request and a soft command. Fingers ran over the girl’s spine down to her ass before Yunjin gripped it, her lips sucking right where Y/n’s pulse point was, feeling the sigh that the feline let out right by her ear. 

She manoeuvred them around in the bed until she sat at the edge. With fluidity Y/n crawled down Yunjin’s lap, finding herself between her legs while looking up at the ginger who licked her lips. Her eyes were glued to Y/n, never missing a second of the girl whenever they were with each other.

A shaky breath fell from between Yunjin’s lips when Y/n wrapped her hand around her semi-hard cock. The minx bit her lower lip slowly pumping the thick member that was scalding in her hand, her tongue stuck out, looking up through her lashes for approval that she always got through Yunjin’s eyes no matter what they were doing. A deep hum escaped Yunjin at the way Y/n licked along her tip, tongue running over the slit and collecting the leaking salty pre-cum. 

“Use your mouth well, angel so I can love you good after.” Her voice was thick with need, gruffly, her hand coming into Y/n’s hair, pushing it away from her face and holding it back for her. For a split second her eyes glance at the window, eyes falling on Y/n’s silhouette on the floor, looking like a real feline with her perfect ridges as she was on the floor on her knees. Y/n’s silhouette would always stay behind, it would always swim in Yunjin’s mind, moving gracefully and making the ginger drown in her. 

Y/n pumped up one last time, more precum slowly oozed from the slit on the pinkish tip and she parted her lips. Her eyes closed at the approving hum that came from Yunjin when she started to circle with her tongue, taking in inch by inch into her mouth before suckling back up, her hand stroking the rest.

The movement was enough to make Yunjin’s breathing grow heavier, occupying the room together with the wet sounds of Y/n’s mouth messily working along her length. “Such a good and messy doll.” The praises spilled through her mouth the same way spit ran down Y/n’s chin. The younger moved her hand down, cupping the pair of balls that were hard and heavy with cum in her palm. 

The grip on her hair tightened, and faint moans started to spill from Yunjin’s mouth at the warm mouth that worked her length. She leaned back against her palm while looking down at Y/n through hooded eyes. The girl bobbed her head, stroking her cock while hollowing her cheeks, the suction making the ginger roll her eyes back and whine at how good it felt. 

“So good, baby doll.” She breathed out, and her hand slowly pushed Y/n further down her cock as the pleasure was overwhelming her senses. It made her toes curl when she hit the back of Y/n’s throat without the girl gagging, her balls getting toyed with in the gentle hand. Tongue trailing over the bulging vein, circling her tip and showering it with the most attention as it was sensitive.  

The minx of a girl pulled away to catch her breath, her hand worked along the throbbing cock, her tongue licking at the tip and down the base. The work was sloppy just the way Yunjin loved it as only Y/n could make her head get light and stomach tie knots so tight that when they snapped she went numb. 

Y/n took her cock back into her mouth, tongue flat against the thick vein that was pulsating, hot in her mouth. The minx moaned, opening her throat for Yunjin to deep-throat her cock. It was enough to elicit a whimper from the ginger who tightened her grip on Y/n even more. It made her hold the girl down, Y/n’s nose tickling her pelvis for a second. She pulled back, sucking hard, making the other get dizzy at how good it felt and she pulled away, quickly going back down. 

Y/n looked up through her lashes at Yunjin who was now letting moans spill from her mouth without any resistance, but she tried to keep them low enough to not get in trouble. The girl wasn’t stopping and the knot was starting to tear to snap at last which Y/n was able to tell by how Yunjin’s breathing got deeper, her moans turning breathy and her balls tightening in Y/n’s hand. 

“Close ‘m so close.” She gasped, her body convulsing as her eyes closed and a deep frown covered her eyebrows, pushing Y/n’s head down with her thighs trembling. Breathless sounds fell from her mouth. The tip twitched in Y/n’s mouth, hips stuttering and cum shot in thick ropes down her throat, the salty taste barely managing to linger on her tongue as she swallowed down everything right away. The suction made Yunjin groan and Y/n slowly pulled away as the grip on her hair loosened.

“So perfect and so good for me,” the ginger mumbled as Y/n used one of the discarded shirts on the floor and wiped her mouth before Yunjin pulled her up to her feet. The girl stood between her legs, their fingers hooked and she guided Y/n back into her lap. Her hand reached to Y/n’s face, cupping her cheek and using her thumb to run over her wet lips. “You’re the prettiest and best girl I’ve had in my life.” She pecked Y/n’s lips with that and the girl shook her head with a small smile. 

“Don’t say that.” It warmed her too much and then hurt twice as much when she became the prettiest and most hated girl she’s ever had in her life. 

“Why not? It’s the truth.” 

“Just don’t, you have so many other women in your life you should put first.” Y/n refused to believe again that Yunjin would ever even consider putting her first. That was why she knew better than to say those words herself to the ginger, knowing that she would never be able to put Yunjin first either. That had always been a problem and that had always been a reason to give up and try again because what if?

The longer she stared at Yunjin’s gazing like star eyes that were sparkling the harder it got to say no to being her perfect, pretty, and best girl. The easier it got to accept the fact that within a few months, she would be pretty, but far from perfect and best. 

“I only want to put you first because I have you right here.”

“Don’t be selfish when it comes to me.” 

Yunjin chuckled, but maybe she was aware that Y/n would never truly belong to her and she would never truly belong to Y/n. They belonged to the hungry sharks that swam past their sinking bodies, trashing them and disturbing the peace that they felt in drowning, but they weren’t allowed to die in peace when it came to their love. 

Words made moments more memorable at times, but actions made them bearable and so Y/n leaned in and kissed the older girl. It felt right to be more than sinking stars and be able to be hungry sharks for each other. Yunjin’s hands gripped onto the girl's ass, fingertips digging into the lissom flesh while pulling Y/n’s smaller body closer to her. 

Among a sea where they were prey, they were also predators, but only to each other. That carnal desire struck as they wanted to dig into each other’s skin and colour the ocean red with love. Their flesh was tender for each other, unlike the tough exterior that they had on for everyone else. It made it so much easier to devour and dwell in as it tasted of greedy passion that was only reserved for the other. 

Y/n moaned and gasped into Yunjin’s mouth, their tongues tangling and sucking each other in. Nails scratched along the side of Yunjin’s neck while another worked her semi-hard length back to life. It got past a stage of just love and went to a stage that mixed with desires stronger than love, more dangerous because it hurt much more after. 

They pulled away to move onto the middle of the bed again and Y/n pushed Yunjin down, getting on top of the older. She grabbed hold of her hard cock that was throbbing in her hold, the heat between her legs strong as the feline ached for release. Yunjin watched Y/n lift her hips, her eyes falling on the girl’s slick tiny cunt and her stomach flexed as the younger ran her bulbous tip through her folds. 

Y/n bit her tongue and guided the tip to her entrance as the other girl held onto her hips to provide her more support. It made her groan at the familiar tightness she slowly got engulfed in while Y/n let out a faint gasp at the painful stretch. “Oh fuck.” The feline whimpered while slowly sinking and being filled up by the thickness and length that entered her raw. 

“You can take it, you’re doing so well, doll.” Yunjin encouraged, her hands caressing the girl’s hips while her eyes went between Y/n’s face which was somewhere between pleasure and pain and the girl’s pink little pussy that her cock was too big for. Her eyes eagerly watched as she disappeared inside the girl, splitting her folds while being slowly sucked into such tightness that she had to try extra hard to not reach her peak right away. “My pretty girl.” She continued, the praises easing Y/n’s mind from the uncomfortable feeling as she, at last, eased Yunjin's cock fully inside her while heaving for air that she had held in. 

She pulled Y/n down to kiss away the shaky breath that left her lips, waiting for the girl on top to start and set the pace to not accidentally hurt her. “I love you,” she whispered against her lips, her palm caressing the side of Y/n’s neck while her other hand gripped onto the girl’s ass who slowly moved her hips back and forth. Their lips came back together in a wet kiss with desires that were difficult to hold back. “So much, love you so much.” Her words weren’t falling deaf, they were digging their way into flesh and Y/n’s heart after not hearing them for two months. 

Y/n’s forehead rested against Yunjin’s, her hair falling around them, covering everything, and nothing from the surface ever went below except them. Her panting breaths mixed with Yunjin’s breaths who moved her hand from Y/n’s neck to push back some of her hair. 

“You don’t hate me, do you?” The words couldn’t help but intrude in this moment but they were still lingering inside her, swimming in a pool of all the things Yunjin had ever said to her. The sweet things could never win against the small portion of words that left her insecure in deep waters where security was the only thing that could keep her alive. 

“I could never hate you.” Only in the moment was she capable of hate and Y/n knew it because the feline for a second hated Yunjin for lying once again, for making yet another promise she would break. 

“I love you, Jen.” She pecked her lips after, sealing them for the moment. 

Y/n pulled back with her words, the discomfort not being as prominent as her walls adjusted to the dick that was a big fit for her, being smaller than her ex-girlfriend when it came to proportion. The bulge was evidence of the situation as Y/n’s nails dug into Yunjin’s stomach for support.

She raised her hips, rolling them back down with a gasp and repeating the movements, each time coming down with a new ferocity as they were somewhere between expressing their deep love and taking out the leftover anger at the bottom of the bottle, drop by drop falling from the tip and mixing with everything else they had ever spilled. 

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re doing so good taking and riding me,” her hand ran up and cupped one of the girl's breasts, fitting it in her palm with ease and groping at it. Feeling over her body to take in the curves she knew she would be able to draw with her eyes closed. Every little detail of Y/n’s body, Yunjin knew and loved. 

The sopping sounds started to occupy the room, the girl’s moans, whines, and whimpers grew louder and mixed with Yunjin’s heavy breaths and grunts. She could feel every inch of the girl inside her, the way her cock twitched every time she clasped around her more and let out sounds. The stretch felt painful, but in a good way, knowing that Yunjin was too big for her and would always perfectly crush her smaller body until she was trembling. They both loved the feeling, Y/n loved how full she felt with Yunjin and Yunjin loved how she overfilled the smaller girl, how Y/n’s stomach bulged and how tight her pussy was and how she always tried her best to take everything. 

It was hard to prevent and so Yunjin started to meet the girl’s thrust, their skin slapping against each other echoing in the room and bouncing off the walls with all the other sounds. Her fingers played with the girl’s hard nipple, fondling her breast while getting lost in the strong current of feelings and emotions that dragged her. Her eyes stuck on Y/n’s skin which was flawless and perfect, the moonlight casting its light on her as it always complimented her the best. Her cock dragged along the clasping walls, making the younger’s thighs tense up, thrusting and hitting the spots just for Y/n.

“Feels good, I love how you touch me,” Y/n whined, her hands holding onto Yunjin’s tense thighs that flexed with each thrust. 

“You look so fucking good, Y/n–you take my dick so well, doll.” She huffed at the feeling of Y/n’s wet cunt who threw her head back while increasing her pace to a deeper one. Her clit was throbbing and her walls pulsating around the scalding dick, her ass colliding with Yunjin’s thighs each time she went down, gyrating her hips in a perfect rhythm that was making her and the older girl’s back arch. 

“I need more, Jen, please.” Y/n whimpered, their bodies moving like waves that perfectly collided with the shore, but it wasn’t enough for the girl. She needed more and Yunjin could provide more. She needed the waves to collide with sharp tone ruins that made the water splash everywhere. Yunjin always knew when to give just enough and when to give more than enough and make everything overflow. They knew how to sink and go down together. 

She gripped hold of Y/n’s hips, stopping the girl, their eyes landed on each other as they were both heaving for breath at how intense it felt. It made Y/n hold back a whimper when she moved off of Yunjin with the older one manhandling her to lay down on the bed. The sheets were cold under her warm body, the two covered in a faint sheen of sweat and her body with ease got pinned under the other. 

“How much do you want it, pretty?” Yunjin questioned as she lay down between the girl’s legs. Her cock rested heavily against Y/n’s thigh, her arms trapping Y/n in her bubble of air as they were on each side of her head. The strands of hair tickled Y/n’s prominent collarbones who could feel the heat radiate off of Yunjin and onto her body, the scent getting much stronger with how they were steaming and so close to one another. Body against body with nothing in between. 

“There’s nothing I want more–nothing more than you.” Y/n breathed out, their lips mingling and falling into a dance at last as they swallowed each other whole once more. One dance wasn’t enough, nothing would ever be enough. The ginger brushed her tongue over Y/n’s lips, slipping it past them, pushing her slick muscle against Y/n’s, wanting to taste more than the tender flesh on the outside but on the inside too. Her one hand went down between them as she guided her throbbing tip towards Y/n’s desperate entrance. 

The intensity increased tenfold when she slowly pushed in, kissing Y/n with more need to steal her breath when she gasped into her mouth. The younger wrapped her arms around Yunjin’s back, making her exhale deeply through her nose at the nails that slowly started to dig into the skin. 

Teeth dug into Yunjin’s lower lip when she in one fluid motion pushed her length fully inside Y/n who dropped her head to the pillow after. Her fingers found the girl’s swollen clit as she started to move her hips, rolling them in and out, providing deep thrusts that made the bed squeak and Y/n hold on tighter to not move with each thrust into her small hole. 

Whiny moans high in pitch left the feline’s mouth at the pleasure that started to course much stronger within her. Her walls clenched around the cock that was pistoning in and out of her, the moans hard to contain or keep down. Nails dragged down the pale skin of Yunjin’s back that flexed with each deep thrust, being a reminder of their love for after they would be done because their love was always present. 

“I’m close, Jen, you feel too good.” 

“Fuck—I’m gonna fill you up, doll, give you everything. Fill your tiny little pussy with my cum.” 

She dug her teeth into Y/n’s shoulder, eyes closing at the sounds that were filling her ear. Her hips pulled away before slamming back into the tight confines. The sounds grew loud, a bit too loud, but everything grew muffled to them. Her skin slapped against Y/n’s, the sounds were lewd and wet, erotic, her balls colliding with Y/n who was mewling under her and clawing at her back as she was trying to get more even if it was too much already. Her tip occasionally hit the girl’s cervix as she managed to fill her to the brim. 

Y/n gasped, her back arching and chest pushing into Yunjin who raised her head to watch the girl’s face that contorted into a blissful pleasure with her lips parted, head thrown back and eyes closed. She bunched up the pillow cover in her fist, speeding up her pace and making Y/n cry out at the way her insides were being drilled by Yunjin. Her moans turned into gasps for air as her orgasm was starting to wash over her with her body growing in heat. 

“Fuck, fuck, Jen–” It was blinding the girl on top who continued going at a fast speed that made her breathing heavy and throaty, a primal need to dominate the girl and to claim her right back as hers. There was something enthralling about watching the way Y/n was getting filled by her, her body moving with each thrust while desperately trying to stay in place despite not going anywhere because Yunjin held her in place. 

Y/n’s body tensed up, arching and pulling Yunjin closer to her as her walls fluttered around the cock that was splitting her in the best way possible. All control floated away as the waves hit her one after another, her thighs quivering from the intense orgasm, her nails running along Yunjin’s back to hold on and have her close to her. It made her ears ring and eyes roll, only the older one being able to see the pleasure that Y/n went through.

The ginger stopped playing with the swollen and slick clit when Y/n jerked at the touch, burying her face into the crook of the feline’s neck after. The pussy around her cock pulsated with aftershocks and sent her so close to the edge. Her palm pressed against Y/n’s stomach, covering it with just one hand, being able to feel the bulge each time she thrust inside the girl and it was enough to send her mind into a frenzy, imagining how deep inside the smaller girl she was. How Y/n was taking her. 

She pulled out and stuffed her cock as deep as possible one last time, pressing down more onto Y/n’s lower belly as she moaned into her neck before biting down on the skin. Her breaths grew into a high pitch as she came, thick ropes of cum shooting out her tip and each splashing the smaller girl’s walls white as she could feel it all. 

Her arm gave out and Y/n huffed at the weight that landed on top of her body, still panting for air while trying to not get overwhelmed by the big dick and cum overflowing her small cunt. “God, I missed you and this.” She groaned, trying to get back the feeling in her legs. “You did so well for me, doll,” she mumbled, huffing for air while planting soft kisses over Y/n’s neck. 

“I can’t breathe, Jen,” Y/n winced.

Yunjin exhaled deeply and weakly rolled over, her chest heaving as it felt like she was being dragged down into the bed, sinking deeper than she had before while she stared at her ceiling that got further away and blurrier the further she sank. It didn’t feel right for a second as her body was humid with sweat with no warmth, but it was all fixed when Y/n moved her body and hugged around her waist, her head resting on her shoulder as she curled up to Yunjin’s body. 

Suddenly it felt right as they drowned together.

She reached for the duvet that was thrown aside on the bed and draped it over their lower bodies. Her arms wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders and she pulled the smaller girl closer to her as she hugged her to provide safety even where it felt like it was dangerous. They were chained together in a box filled with anchors that would make sure that they stayed down and with each other. 

It felt right even though something would always be wrong. 

“You’re mine, right?” She questioned, craning her neck to look at Y/n who raised her head the best she could from how she was entombed in Yunjin’s arms. 

“Always,” she whispered and closed her eyes at the lingering kiss that Yunjin left on her forehead. That was reassurance of how it was fine, it was home, but something would always be off, disturbing them because something would always be wrong with the fact that they were drowning in their home. 

“Can you say that one thing?” Yunjin asked, staring into the distance that her ceiling didn’t have, but her eyes imagined. 

Y/n hummed, confused about what she meant. 

Yunjin was waiting for reassurance of how it felt right and wrong at the same time. “About the fish.” She prompted, her hand coming into Y/n’s hair as she tenderly played with it, running her fingers through it and feeling the girl in her arms because she truly was there. Y/n’s tired voice mumbled the words that would drive them both to sleep in the warmth of water filling their lungs while also burning. 

“I’m like a fish that drowns, I’m at home in water, but something is wrong even though everything else feels right. I know that I would die if I wasn’t here. I know that this is my only home, but there will always be something wrong with the fact that I drown even when I’m at home.”

masterlist

[deathbxnny]

Could I perhaps request headcanons for sevika of what it'd be like being friends with her? As difficult as she is I think I'd be awesome to have her watch your back I mean we've all seen how loyal she is

Being besties with Sevika!

I absolutely love this ask, because she'd definitely be SUCH a good friend!!<3

Content: Platonic relationships, some angst?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

Sevika is a ride or die through and through. No matter how difficult things get with you or how chaotic things are, you can count on her to be right there for you every time. Trust and loyalty is hard to come by down in Zaun after all, and so her dedication to you is rare and appreciated by you gratefully. If you keep her back clear, then she'll keep yours clear, too.

Her stubbornness was, however, a difficulty that took you a while to learn how to deal with. If she thinks that she's right about something, then she absolutely is. No, if's or buts about it. Not a thing, you could say can change her mind unless it's profound enough to get through the thick wall in her head. This can lead to some strong disagreements between you two, maybe even a couple arguments. But those are resolved as quick as they come, mainly since she doesn't dwell on alot.

Sevika can be hot-headed and frustrating when it comes to your safety. You are the one good thing she still had left in this hell hole, and she'd be damned if something hurt you. She, therefore, can be very overprotective when it comes to your safety and doesn't let many people come close to you unless she trusts them too. Which are very few people as is.

With that said, though, you practically have scary dog privileges with the way she always looms behind you. No one will ever think of hurting or insulting you in her vicinity, that's for sure.

Whenever you're not feeling well, she'll try and help you out as much as she can. She may not be very good at all at comforting people, but she'll probably get (steal) you things that could make you feel better, whether it be medicine or a small gift. She never accepts anything in return, however, as she's content with caring for you only.

This doesn't mean that she doesn't appreciate the care and loyalty you give her every day deep down, though. She's aware of how painfully difficult she can be at times. And most people therefore avoid her, except for you. This means the world to her, even if she'd never admit it put loud to you.

[blingblong55]

Every Breath You Take- Simon "Ghost" Riley

-Not based on a request- --- F!Reader, angst?, break!up, ex-boyfriend!simon, longing --- A/N: I wrote this inspired by the song Every Breath You take by The Police, duh. and also, if you want a Spotify playlist with this kind of vibe, this is the link. I used this playlist to write this one so....yeah

Every breath felt heavier when you were around him and when you weren't, it felt worse. Simon had always been a constant in your life, the shadow that loomed just far enough to let you shine but close enough to catch you if you ever fell. He was much more than a boyfriend, he was the guy who had seen you stress over little things but also the one who appreciated all of your littlest of flaws. The relationship was based on pure love, adoration, respect and friendship. Something most know they can't afford.

When you told him you wanted to continue school to go beyond and receive a PhD, he was there to cheer you on. Eventually, it was him and you, walking at odd hours of the day. Every day, he made sure you got out of your room, to walk, to socialize but mainly to relax. He knew you wanted this, wanted something special, a title few get but many appreciate.

Like him, you were a soldier before all. You, the smart one everyone in the room looked at for information and facts. Something that made you smile internally and something he felt proud of. He isn't the kind of man who feels threatened by his partner's brightness or anything else, he is the kind to celebrate it because it's something to be proud of. However, two years before you finished your doctorate, it all unravelled. The strain of balancing missions, your degree, and your relationship with Simon became a burden you couldn't shoulder anymore. He didn't fight you when you said it was over. It hurt, yes but he understood. His quiet acceptance of your decision hurt more than if he'd begged you to stay.

You buried yourself in your studies, drowning in research and late nights with coffee-stained notes and a perpetually messy desk. It was easier to focus on the path that you had chosen than to dwell on the absence of his voice, his touch, his presence. Simon, in turn, buried himself in missions, his absences becoming longer and his silences more profound. The few times you crossed paths during briefings or operations, he was polite but distant. Professional. Fuck, it stung.

But you remembered his promise. One night, years ago, when your head was resting on his chest and his right hand was intertwined with your right, you confided in him about your dreams of earning a doctorate. On nights like this, after a mission when he could be vulnerable and hold his angel, he would enjoy listening to your dreams, silently hoping that he could help you make them all come true. He smiled a rare, genuine smile, and said, "I'll be there. Front row. Might even be that kind of bloke that brings a sign that says, 'That's my girl.'" You laughed and kissed his hand.

And true to his word, when the day finally came, Simon was there when the time had come. He was always the kind of man everyone knew they could rely on because he kept his word. When he had gotten the news through Price that you'd be taking days off to celebrate and part-take in your ceremony, he knew what he had to do.

You didn't see him in the crowd, of course. You were too preoccupied with nerves and excitement as you stepped onto the stage, the culmination of years of sacrifice and hard work manifesting in the applause that echoed through the auditorium. Your family cheered, their pride palpable. As you shook hands with the dean and accepted your diploma, you allowed yourself a brief moment of pride. You'd done it. You'd finally done it.

Simon watched from the back, his heart heavier than he ever thought possible. He'd taken a few days off, something he hadn't done in years, just to be here. He'd stood in the shadows, like always, letting the crowd and the celebration shield him from view. In those seconds, as you looked at the crowd while you walked back down to the seats, you allowed yourself to look for him. There was hope in the stare you gave the crowd but it faded quickly when you didn't spot him. His smile was soft but tinged with sadness. He wanted to be in the front row, cheering for you, holding you, telling you how proud he was. But that wasn't his place anymore.

When your family surrounded you, pulling you into hugs and taking pictures, Simon lingered a few feet away. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his black surgical mask pulled over his nose. Old habits died hard. For a moment, he considered walking over and saying something, but what could he say? "Congratulations?" It felt hollow.

So, he left, slipping past you quietly as he'd come, his promise fulfilled. Just ten seconds later, you turn around but only see proud parents. It was weird, you felt something but you brushed it off. You went back to the hugs and the thank you's. It was hard to feel so happy, but I did it without the guy who was there for all the all-nighters and the rehearsed speeches.

Months passed. You'd thrown yourself back into work, rising through the ranks with the same determination that has carried you through your degree. Promotions came quickly, and your name became synonymous with excellence. And Simon watched it all from a distance, pride and regret warring within him.

When you were promoted again, he couldn't stay away any longer. It was a small ceremony, just your unit and a few high-ranking officers. Simo lingered at the edge of the room, waiting until the crowd thinned out before approaching you.

"Congratulations, for all the success you've had," his voice low and rough. You turned, startled to see him there. It had been months since you'd spoken, beyond curt exchanges during missions. He looked the same but different, the weight of time and distance etched into his features.

"Simon," you said, his name tasting bittersweet on your tongue. "Thank you." He nodded, his eyes scanning your face as if committing it to the depth of his brain. Because what if this was the last time he was this close? When the others had filtered out, leaving you two alone, he shifted awkwardly, his hands brushing against his thighs.

Silence. Silence.

"I was there, you know," he said finally, breaking the silence. "At the ceremony, when you were handed that doctorate." You blinked, caught off guard. "You were?"

He nodded, a faint smile tugging his lips. How could he forget the biggest day of your life so far? "Didn't think it was my place to be front and centre, but I… I kept my promise."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of his words settled between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. Your throat tightened, and you had to look away, blinking rapidly to stave off the tears threatening to spill.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. Simon's gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might reach for you. But he didn't. Instead, he nodded again, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before he stepped back.

A/N: this was written with no true ending, just like in real life. So, truly, the ending the their story isn't for me to make or for you to decide on, it's left in a cliffhanger like most loves end.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99  @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @juneonhoth  @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien  @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson  @willowaftxn83-87  @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95 @noodlezz-bedo @alexaseeraj @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth @mariededenie

[hnslchw]

if she wasn't your last - LN4 X Reader

Summary: You haven't felt this uncertain before. Now that doubts about Lando's lingering feelings for his ex have surfaced, you're struggling to move past them. As your insecurities grow, you're finding it harder to trust him, wondering if you'll ever truly have his heart.

Based on "Did you like her in the morning?" by NIKI. (highly recommended to play this while reading)

Warnings/Themes: heavy angst and overthinking insecurities (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word count: 1.2k

Author's note: hello everyone!! This would be my very first story im ever posting on tumblr, pls be kind. For the longest time l've just been appreciating everyone's stories. I hope you guys enjoy (pls tell me if there's anything I should change or look into tumblr settings wise). English isn't my first language and im a tad bit dyslexic please bear with me if there are any errors HAHAH but please comment what you think. Thank you <3

It was never hard loving Lando. It was a whirlwind, an intoxicating rush of emotions you never thought you'd experience. Someone like him, bright and vibrant, taking a chance on someone like you—a girl who had never been in a proper relationship before. It felt surreal, perfect, at least in the beginning.

His past relationships were never something you dwelled on. Everyone has a past, you told yourself. You were confident, secure. Or so you thought. But that was before you both went public with your relationship, before the internet got involved, before every picture of you two sparked comparisons you hadn’t asked for. His ex-girlfriend, the one everyone seemed to prefer, loomed like a shadow over everything.

Suddenly, you were scrolling through endless posts dissecting every detail—her smile, her style, the effortless way she seemed to fit into Lando’s world. You, by comparison, felt like an outsider.

You tried to brush it off at first, laughing along with Lando when he made jokes about the craziness of social media. But when you opened your phone, those comparisons started to chip away at you. Even worse, there were moments with Lando that made it impossible to ignore. Like now.

He was rifling through his drawers, his movements frantic, eyes wild with panic.

“Where is it?” he muttered, slamming another drawer shut before turning to you. “Have you seen it? My bangle, the silver one?”

You felt your stomach drop at the mention of the bangle. The one his ex-girlfriend gave him. He never talked about her, but you always noticed how careful he was with that piece of jewelry, how he wore it every day, like it was some kind of talisman. The fact that it wasn’t on his wrist now sent him into a frenzy.

“No, I haven’t seen it,” you said softly, watching him tear through his things.

“Damn it,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I lost it.”

“Lando…” You hesitated, unsure if you should even say anything, but the words slipped out anyway. “Why does it matter so much? It’s just a bracelet.”

He stopped, looking at you like you’d just said something offensive. “It’s not just a bracelet,” he snapped. “I’ve had it for years.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I know, but…it was from her, wasn’t it?”

He froze, the question hanging in the air between you. His expression softened, and he sighed, but he didn’t deny it. “Yeah, but that’s not the point. It’s… it’s sentimental, you know?”

You nodded, even though you didn’t quite understand. It was hard not to feel like you were competing with someone who wasn’t even here anymore, someone who left behind pieces of herself in Lando’s life that you couldn’t match.

“I get that,” you said quietly, “but sometimes… I feel like she’s still here. Like you’re still holding on to her.”

Lando blinked, his panic slowly giving way to confusion. “That’s not true. You know I’m with you.”

“I do,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But when you act like this—freaking out over something she gave you—it makes me wonder if part of you still wishes she was here.”

His gaze softened, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. It’s not about her, I swear. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, trying to believe him. But deep down, the doubt was still there, lingering, just like the bangle that had somehow become a symbol of everything you weren’t sure you could compete with.

That night, after everything settled down and the search for the bangle was abandoned, you lay next to Lando in bed. The room was dark, filled only with the soft hum of the city outside and the faint sound of his breathing. His arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer in his sleep. It was a familiar gesture, one that should’ve comforted you, but instead, your thoughts were miles away.

Did his hand find her waist like this?

The thought crawled into your mind, uninvited but persistent. You could almost see it—her leaning against him, laughing with that carefree confidence everyone loved, while he pulled her close, their night buzzing with that electric excitement.

Did he kiss her goodnight?

Did he hope the night would never end?

You close your eyes, willing the thoughts to go away, but they don’t. Instead, they morph into another image, one that stings even more.

Did he laugh with her over cold cups of coffee that he hated but still drank anyway?

You’d seen him do it a thousand times with you—pushing a cup of something bitter away with a grimace, teasing you about your questionable taste, but always taking another sip. Was it the same with her? Was she the reason he developed the habit in the first place?

The questions wouldn’t stop. Every memory you shared with him felt tainted now, overshadowed by the possibility that they weren’t really yours at all. Maybe you were just walking through scenes he had already lived, following in someone else’s footsteps, trying to fill a space that was never truly empty.

Beside you, Lando shifted, pulling you even closer in his sleep, but it didn’t feel like enough. You stared at the ceiling, blinking back the burning sensation in your eyes. You wanted to wake him up, to ask him Did you laugh with her like that? Did you hold her like this? Did you want her more than you want me?

But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed silent, letting the questions twist and tangle inside you like a knot you couldn't unravel, the truth too painful to confront. You turned to look at him, his features peaceful in sleep, and wondered if you’d ever know the answers to those questions or if they would haunt you forever.

In the early morning light, his fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, but his eyes seemed distant, lost in a memory that didn’t belong to you. Did he like her in the mornings too? Was his smile brighter then? Did he hold her closer?

The quiet moments between you were filled with unspoken questions, the weight of his past love pressing between every breath. He said your name softly, but it didn’t feel like enough to anchor him here, with you. You're falling, but you wonder—has he ever truly caught you? Or is his heart still wrapped in the warmth of a love that wasn’t yours?

You want to ask him. The question sits on the tip of your tongue, Are you still in love with her? But you don't. You stay silent, afraid that by giving voice to your insecurities, you'll make them real. You cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you're overthinking it, that it's all in your head. After all, he’s with you now, right? That should be enough.

But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you're sharing him with a memory, a past that he hasn’t fully let go of. And it's hard to compete with a memory. So, you keep your doubts hidden, tucked away in the corners of your mind, even as they threaten to pull you under.

Because in the end, you're afraid of the truth: that he loved her in the mornings, just like this. And maybe, just maybe, a part of him still does.

"I know it would be easier if I just didn't ask, but it'd also be easier if she wasn't your last"

[lovelettersforthedamned]

first of all i am loooooving hockey peter and i knew deep down that man is a loverboy!!!

so i just wanted to throw in the idea that one of the turning points in the relationship being aunt may??? like peter could try and pretend all he wants in front of aunt may but she'd be so happy to call him out right there in front of his girl

Awkward

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.9k

✰ summary: aunt may's question about the two of you makes you spiral, so when is peter going to finally talk about it?

✰ warnings: fluff, kinda angst, a kiss, confusion from both the reader and peter.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ college!hockey!peter parker m.list

gif by @aliceblisss

Running errands with Peter wasn’t outside of the usual activities you two would share. Grabbing a few groceries, dropping off items at the post office, and even helping Aunt May with household chores were completely normal. 

You and Peter were in bed when Aunt May called him, asking for him to help move out some boxes from the basement. He was half awake, his mind and body still recovering from his playoff game last night, “Yeah, I can be there in a few hours…Mhm, yep. Okay, I love you too. Bye.” A groan left his lips as he stretched before planting a kiss on your forehead and heading toward the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

He wasn’t originally planning on getting out of the house today, but if his Aunt May needed his help, he was always there. Especially after his Uncle died. You had no idea about his family life, you never needed to; but when a picture of a young Peter next to an older man appeared on his laptop’s background, he couldn’t keep it quiet anymore. 

You knew quite a lot about his Aunt, whether or not Peter intended to talk about her often or not, it just happened naturally. Peter would always ramble about his Aunt’s Thanksgiving dinner, or her obnoxiously sizable collection of fabric to make new blankets. You could never forget Peter’s smile when he talks about her, it was contagious. 

So as you’re laughing in the kitchen with Aunt May as Peter is breaking his back carrying boxes up the stairs, you can’t help but feel warm. You two met each other for the first time, but it’s quickly made clear that Peter has talked about you to his Aunt as much as he’s talked about her to you. 

He’s told her about ‘the girl’ that shows up at every one of his games, wearing his last name on her back. Or the girl that carried such spitfire, as he relived the story of how you two first met to May. Still, a stupidly sweet smile plastered on his face as he described each scene in detail. 

Aunt May telling you this made your heart clench. The thought of Peter telling his closest family member about you, and describing you in such a way that made May’s heart soar, was exhilarating but also sent your mind into a spiral. 

There was no time to dwell as Peter brought up the final box with a sigh of relief. “I really appreciate you guys helping, thank you so much,” a sarcastic tone to his voice, causing you to smile. 

Looking over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the sweaty brunette, “How could I help you when coffee was calling my name?”

“Sorry, honey,” Aunt May smiles, “the coffee part was my fault.” 

Peter wipes the sweat off his brow as he makes his way towards you and May before reaching for the refrigerator handle and pulling out a water bottle. A few beats of silence pass between the three of you when you feel Aunt May’s gaze glance between you and Peter as you take a sip of your coffee. “So when are you guys making it official?” She questions, making you choke on the dark liquid. 

Your face heats up as you instinctively look towards Peter who seems to be in the same boat as you. He slowly lowers the plastic bottle and caps it when he clears his throat, “Umm, we haven’t really talked about it. Right, bug?” 

Now that the attention was turned to you, it’s your turn to clear your throat. “Yeah, yeah,” you laugh nervously, “life has been a little busy. For both of us.” 

May can’t help but laugh into her mug as she watches the both of you squirm in embarrassment, especially Peter. He’s fidgeting at the stitching in his jacket, awkward silence hanging over the two of you as Aunt May is thoroughly enjoying this. “Well, thank you honey for helping me with the boxes. I definitely wouldn’t be able to do it by myself, that’s for sure,” she laughs as she stands up to guide the both of you out. 

You quickly say goodbye to Aunt May before heading out the door, Peter grabbing his keys behind you. You haven’t even noticed that he wasn’t directly behind you as you made your way to the car, he’s still in the house, May talking to him with a pretty stern look on his face. You couldn’t hear what she was saying, but from the way Peter looked, it wasn’t a light conversation. 

He jogs his way down to you, a half-fake smile appearing on his face as he opens the car door for you. Before fully stepping into the car, you look at him, studying his face. Peter looks back at you when you ask, “Is everything okay?” 

“Of course,” he nods, placing a peck to your lips befor walking around the car You take his half-assed response before planting yourself in the seat. 

The car ride back to your apartment is silent, but Peter’s hand is resting on your thigh, as usual. You place your hand on top of his, lightly squeezing it, grasping his attention. He smiles at you, and you smile back. Maybe you’ll talk about this later. 

✰ author's note: LOVED THIS ASK OMGG!! i love it when aunt may makes an appearence and completely embarrasses her nephew. if you want to send in a request like this one, you can! my ask box is open!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. ok, ily bye!!

[hyomaslut]

──★ ˙🍒 ̟ !! SAY THAT YOU MISS ME. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ʙʟʟᴋ ʙᴏʏs ɢᴏ��ɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴇx

✿ ─ characters: bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, rin itoshi ✿ ─ cw: somewhat angst, nsfw, smut, gn!reader, afab!reader, no pronouns, aged-up!characters(21+), established relationships??, exes to lovers, kissing, groping, dirty talk, semi-public sex, lots of jealousy, alcohol use, posessiveness, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, toxic behaviors/dynamics, use of foul language, suggestive themes, proofread?? ✿ ─ notes: they are straight up drabbles. i wrote hyoma's first and i was like, omg this is way too long. fuck it, hope i can get the others close to this word count. and then they were longer. im so sorry i promise next time i wont be so long winded.

BACHIRA MEGURU is unsettled by the silence that lingers in your absence...

he honestly doesn’t know what to do with himself. the heavy loneliness he feels in a bed far too big for just one person is almost enough to push him to call you, staring at your contact for at least an hour. you were best friends. partners in crime. a power couple. how could things be over? he misses your voice more than anything else, all the time in his day usually spent deep in conversation with you now feeling empty.

he could tell that he reached a real pathetic stage of heartbroken when he started listening to old voicemails from you at night, but couldn’t find it in himself to care as he smiles at your laugh and tears up at your i love you’s. that turns into scrolling through photos he has of you, and then that has his mind drifting to the hidden album he has dedicated to you, full of the numerous risqué shots you’ve sent him over the course of your relationship. meguru doesn’t dwell on the moral dilemma of keeping the pictures, they were his after all. either gifted to him or taken by him, so he feels he has some sort of right to them. when he scrolls to a particular video from his point of view of your pretty mouth wrapped around his tip, his hand almost immediately moves to palm his crotch. he tugs down his boxers to stroke himself to the scene of you deepthroating his cock, the sweet sound of your moans and sputters through his phone speaker making both his dick and his heart ache for you.

after some time spent desperately trying to create a cheap imitation of the pleasure you make him feel, bachira grows frustrated. it’s really unfair now that he thinks about it. how could you indulge him in all his deepest fantasies and give him the wildest hottest fucks of his life only to leave him high and dry in the end? finally giving up on cumming, covered in a thin layer of sweat, he opens his phone again in some lust fueled bravery, texting you hey can we talk?

in your apartment, you were dedicating your evening to trying not to think about all the ways you missed your ex, knowing that the first few weeks of a break up were the hardest. you stand up from the couch, breaking out of your thoughts and hoping to just distract yourself for the time being. picking up your cell was extremely counter productive in that regard, your heart jumping at a text from megs ‹𝟹. he wants to talk. seeing that the text was sent half an hour ago, you jump to reply yeah sure. when? you don’t even think before accepting, the chance to bask in his attention one more time is too tempting when missing him this much. the contact picture you set for him pops up, indicating an incoming call.

you take a breath in the tense silence, offering a somewhat unsure, “hello?” his end of the call comes to life all of a sudden, finally connecting through his current shoddy service. he sounds slightly out of breath and you hear a faint ding in the background. the grainy noises let you know that he probably wasn’t in the quiet privacy of his home as he usually would be at this time. “meguru? is now a bad time to talk?”

“no! now's a good time,” he reassures, “i’m in the elevator up to your place.”

“you’re what?”

there’s some more shuffling from him and quick footsteps that echo both from the call and the hallway outside your apartment. “open up.”

there’s apprehension floating somewhere in your mind, but the big part of you that was very much not over him moves your feet towards the door, unlocking it. as soon as the physical barrier between you and him is gone, there is a completely different tone that settles and you almost sense it before it happens when he pushes forward to crash his lips onto yours. he didn’t exactly have a plan showing up, but seeing you, there was only one thing his body wanted to do. your back collides with the wall of your entryway, one of his hands already on the back of your head to cushion the blow, his other arm coiled around your waist to press you flush against him. unaware of it, the two of you share the same thought. this is 1000 times better than being alone tonight.

“meguru.” you call out trying to gently push against his chest to create some room between you. trying to be the rational one and state the obvious facts. you broke up with him. he shouldn’t be here. it’ll just cause more heartache for the both of you. but tingles run up his back when you say his name that way, breathless as he steals all the air from you. fuels his need to hold onto you tighter and not let you go this time around. eventually you manage to get your hand over his mouth to stop him from kissing you before your resolve really breaks and you let this go too far. “megu we shouldn’t. this is hard enough as it is-”

he pries your fingers away, and just when you think he is going to say something, convince you, justify himself, he dips his head down to capture your lips again, gently sucking on the bottom one to draw out a gasp so he can shove his tongue in. greedy hands grab at your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he can shamelessly rut his hips against yours. he makes it hard to think straight, pulling away after a moment to stare into your eyes, giving you that signature wild look that causes your knees to go weak. “tell me you don’t want me.”

“huh?”

“look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want me.” he watches you expectantly, his impatience showing when he begins softly rocking into you. “cause we both know nobody else can make you cum like i can. let me make you feel good.”

you don’t find the strength to turn down his offer, not when you’re already panting at the affection he’s given you and soaking from the rhythmic press of his hard cock against you. bachira relishes the relief and arousal that floods through him when you wrap your arms around his neck to drag him into another sloppy kiss, and you feel his grin grow against your lips. the competitor in him recognizes a challenge, his heart pounding in perverse excitement. he has one chance to prove to you just how much you need him. lucky for you, that’s the kind of risk your ex gets off on.

CHIGIRI HYOMA is unreasonably bitter...

you and him are a perfect match, and the thought of you ever replacing him makes him sick. the egoist in him can’t stand the idea of someone stealing his role in your life. someone else taking you out, having your attention, putting their hands on you. deep down some rational part of him knows that he doesn’t stake any claim over you anymore, but the sinking pit in his stomach does nothing to alleviate the gut instinct that you’re his.

it eats at him. chigiri feels childish stalking your social media or casually asking mutual friends about you. he doesn’t want to seem affected, but he just can’t help but give into his curiosity. this same ‘curiosity’ is what leads him to hanging out in the bars he knows you frequent, either with friends or without. he hardly admits to himself that he’s hoping to run into you, but when it actually does happen, hyoma doesn’t hesitate to approach. he’s unsure if it’s the irresistible pull of being within arms reach of you again, or the selfish intuition to make his move on you before anyone else has the chance.

it seems innocent enough. he’s as charismatic and lighthearted as ever, offering to catch up, buy you a drink or two. chemistry you’ve always shared slowly surfaces through conversation. there was no denying that he had his charms, ones that hit all your soft spots just like the first time he won you over. so when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you on your way out of the bathroom, and wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall over from tipsy imbalance, you barely even question it. being in his embrace is familiar and there is a glance shared between you with a certain spark to it that it’s only natural he leans down to kiss you. hyoma is nothing if not an opportunist, smoothly steering you back into the small bar bathroom, his lips and tongue never leaving you.

he’s panting into your mouth between hungry kisses, hands already tugging at your clothing. his teeth find your neck, sucking and biting warm bruises in his wake, eager to mark every inch of skin he can latch onto. before you get the chance to playfully tease him about crawling back to you, your body is twisted around and bent forward over the sink. your eyes dart to the mirror in front of you, meeting his smug grin as he yanks your pants and underwear down your thighs.

hyoma reaches his hand around to dip between your folds, deft fingers rubbing languid circles into your clit the way he knows you like. if it werent for the cocktails you would be embarrassed by the way you immediately melt into his touch, whimpers readily escaping you. “you’re already whining like that and i’ve barely even touched you, this pussy must’ve really missed me, huh?”

pleasure shoots up your core, arching your back at the feeling, pressing your ass into the bulge straining against his jeans. a moan bubbles up in his throat, but he’s quick to close his mouth, muffling the sound to a soft grunt, not willing to indulge you in the reactions you always seek to draw out of him. his hips push forward to grind into yours, the hard outline of his cock enough to remind you of what more you could be having instead of this PG13 dry humping session. you try to catch his gaze in the mirror, but it never leaves the place where you connect, giving you only soft thrusts while his fingers are unrelenting against your clit. “hyoma.” you manage to get out between heavy breaths. pink eyes finally travel up to meet yours. “please give it to me.”

and on a normal day, your ex-boyfriend would’ve dragged out the foreplay and teased you until you’re near tears and begging him for more, but something about the way you ask feels like a confession. that you wanted him just as desperately as he had been craving you. it sparks a fire up chigiri’s spine, wasting no time shoving the tight denim down to release himself. soon enough the tip of his pretty dick is squished against your entrance. his jaw is clenched from the restraint it takes not to immediately bury himself balls deep, grabbing your waist to keep steady.

any doubts that he had about still pining after you are gone, because the first tight clench of your cunt around his tip confirms what he’s always wholeheartedly believed. you were fucking made for him.

“god fuck,” he mutters breathily, biting down onto his bottom lip as he watches your hole swallow his entire length. his hips wind back, not getting far before the grip your walls have on him forces him to slowly sink back in. “anyone else fill you up this good, angel? get you this wet?” he asks, one of his hands grabbing hold of your hair to make you properly face him in the reflection again, wearing a cocky smirk that makes your stomach do flips.

a pout forms on your lips at his leisurely thrusts, far from enough to satisfy you, especially when you’ve seen firsthand the speed and effort he is depriving you of. “i don’t know, im getting a bit bored here princess,” you mock, despite the way you’re barely able to contain your noises as is.

without warning his pace becomes the staple unrelenting and overwhelming one you fantasize about while futilely trying to get off on your own. hyoma lets go of your hair in favor of clamping down over your mouth, loud moans already beginning to spill out around his fingers. the sight of the typically cool-headed prince losing his nonchalance, fucking you with pure ego and a savage glimmer in his eyes isn’t something you’ll easily forget. “this what you wanted? only satisfied when i fuck you stupid, right?"

ITOSHI RIN is not a fan of losing you, but loves getting you back...

rin doesn’t fall in love easily. he doesn’t know exactly how you managed it, but you barged into his life unannounced and dragged love out of him with your unrelenting company and killer smile. and rin was no willing victim either, figuratively kicking and screaming the whole way with his many cold moments and guarded emotions. in the end you won, with him wrapped helplessly around your finger. while rin would prefer to deny you any power over him, there’s a fire that burns in his chest for you that demands he give you everything he has. and he does.

but his love proves to be too much and not enough. too much in the ways of his possessive tendencies and clinginess and toxic defensiveness. and not enough in the way that it doesn’t keep you around. not that he blames you for it, although he does get the occasional bitter thought that you should’ve known to leave him alone from the start. deep down he knows he doesn’t really mean it, preferring even this pitiful longing you leave him with to the dark cloud that was his life before you. and it’s what he fears of returning to if you ever manage to fully pull away from him one day.

the first time you break up, rin admittedly doesn’t deal with it well. after endless calls and texts and showing up at your place with flowers and vulnerability, you take him back, only to return to the same arguments when his jealousy issues get out of hand. he wished he could say the second or third time went differently. fourth time around, however, rin gains some semblance of dignity and decides to keep his distance. maybe it was time to give moving on the good old college try. what other option did he have? as in love with you as he was, he couldn’t force you to stay and wasn’t well equipped to do the soul searching necessary to rid himself of all the behaviors that bothered you. maybe this was a lesson he needed to grow into the type of guy you could see yourself with. at least he intended to take that route, until you showed up at his house a few days later begging for him to forgive you for ever thinking you could live without him. he doesn’t even feel embarrassment over how easily he caves. it can’t be his fault when that night you swore you’d always belong to him while screaming his name. that same night he resolved that no matter what happened, you were it for him, and until you told him without a shadow of a doubt that you no longer loved him, he would return to you every time.

it started this viscous cycle of an on and off again relationship, fueled by passion and possession from both parties. one that rin never planned on ending as long as it was the only way he got to call you his, feeling a deep sense of comfort in the fact that you were weak for him too. that’s why he’s unsurprised hearing a knock on his door at 11PM. a new record considering it only been a day since the huge fight that caused your latest break up, not that rin was keeping count.

he has to stop himself from running to the door, because if he was honest he was thinking of grabbing his keys and heading to you minutes earlier. it doesn’t take more than a, “i’m so sorry baby,” to have him scooping you up into his arms on instinct. the familiar security of your legs wrapped around his hips, hands grabbing at your ass as he carries you to his bed, makes up for the self-loathing mess he becomes in the aftermath of every separation.

none of that other stuff matters when he gets to have you under him like this, already whining in anticipation as he peels away your bottom layers. rin can’t resist leaning in for a quick kiss to your clit before looking up at you from between your legs. a finger ghosts along your slit causing you to squirm and lean up towards the touch before one of his strong hands pushes you firmly to the bed, resting just under your navel. fortunately for you, rin is terrible at denying you the things he knows you want. especially when he’s practically drooling for you, letting the excess spit dribble out of his mouth and onto your cunt. you feel him lick long stripes from your entrance to your clit before wrapping his lips around it.

rin eats you as if it were his first meal in days. being apart from you always seemed a whole lot longer when he has to fear if you really mean it this time when you say you wanna stop seeing him. so he allows himself to be greedy, laves at your slick ravenously with a loud groan and humping his hips against the mattress to relieve his cock that’s already leaking in his boxers. your hands bury themselves in his hair, throwing your head back in pleasure as he bites down into your thigh, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “god you taste so good. you’re fucking criminal for trying to keep this perfect pussy from me.”

his free hand wanders to your core, two fingers easily slipping inside from a mix of your juices and his drool, curling to just the right spot. he sucks your clit into his mouth, your sweet moans fill the air and he has to stop his thrusts to keep himself from cumming in his pants at the sound, pulling away from you with a lewd pop. “‘ts mine,” he grunts out, “you’re fucking mine, and no one can make you feel like this but me. say it.”

“only you rin! ‘m yours!” you choke out, bucking against the pressure he puts on your stomach. satisfied with your response, he dives back in, fingers pumping into you with steady rhythm and using his tongue to lap up everything that leaks out. his intense gaze stays trained on yours with a newfound determination to make you feel so good, you’re ruined for anyone else but him.

“all mine.”

◑.◑ its honestly tempting to write a whole fic for rin…

© 2023 hyomaslut. please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my content onto any other sites.

[thebirthofvenusfly]

okay but i like thinking about the events of ISAT/siffrin's struggles not as them going from a party of normal people with normal struggles to "everyone essentially now has to help Sif heal from That," but as, "everyone in the party has had their own immense, long-term struggles, and this happens to be Siffrin's." like, siffrin is not just a, "problem child," or the standalone outlier in terms of angst

here me out

[major ISAT spoilers, especially for acts 3-5 btw]

siffrin doesn't know all these things in act 1, but:

Odile has had a life-long struggle with identity. Her mother abandoned her family at a young age, her father (presumably heartbroken and betrayed) has never kept any mementos or photos or stories of her and likely avoided speaking of her at any and all opportunities. For the most part, Odile loves her culture but admits she was an outlier in Ka Bue and always stood out from the texture of her hair and eyebrows. She's tried to settle before for the peace of just letting it be, but after meeting that travelling merchant, she realizes how badly she does want to bridge that gap in her identity and has now spent years travelling--all only to find that it didn't quite fix her problem and she hasn't been able to find herself entirely in Vaugarde either. She doesn't dwell too much on her mother, but I feel there is a part of her that could never forgive the hole her mother left behind.

Mirabelle has similarly struggled, though in terms of religion and sexuality. She holds herself to a very high standard of Changing and being a, "good," Housemaiden, and has gone to great lengths to learn as much as she can in efforts to reinvent herself and Change, as she feels she, "should," do, because that's what Housemaidens and diligent followers of the House of Change, "should," do. She is so adamant about this that even prior to the game, even prior to the King's reign--which was several months-a full year before ISAT begins--she is forcing herself to look into relationships to potentially date, bond, and even have children with someone and she doesn't want to do any of that it. She is distraught because she doesn't want to change that aspect. She doesn't want to become what she's not, or try to force herself to feel things she doesn't and can't feel, but she isn't being a good Housemaiden or a good member of her society if she stagnates.

Bonnie's plight primarily comes in with the King's reign, which again, has been for a few months now. They live with their older sister who loves them and cares for them tirelessly, but she is taken by the King's Curse and frozen in time--an event which presumably happens in front of Bonnie, who is encouraged by their sister's last words to just run from the village as far as they can to safety. If that isn't terrifying enough, this leads to them wandering the wilderness for days, exhausted, dehydrated, presumably starved/ill-fed, and lonely, and likely scared out of their mind. Their only saving grace is Siffrin, who happens to find them and save them. The comfort they feel with Sif is called into question when they have to watch Siffrin take a permanent, debilitating injury to the eye to protect them. While the incident seems to roll off Siffrin's worries pretty seamlessly, this is a lot for Bonnie, who by now, has recognized a pattern of the people they love being permanently hurt or altered in some way all just to protect them. They're convinced they're a recurring problem, and after the death ritual talk in the House, has to prepare themselves for the haunting reality that they might really lose everyone they love (and, again, this is a lot. Especially for a child).

Isabeau has tried Changing before, and while it did help him make leaps and bounds, he is still in a constant struggle to love himself fully. Let's be honest here: Isabeau is easily the most emotionally put-together party member, and most equipped to handle the stresses of the party in terms of feelings. This does not make him immune, however, to his own negative feelings. He even cites as wanting to become someone that Siffrin wouldn't be, "ashamed," to know. He also mentions that he is remorseful of the new image he's given himself, as an air-headed, jock type of person, which often leads people into genuinely believing he's stupid and thus treating him that way. Not to mention, as the emotional mediator of the party, I'm sure he occasionally gets stretched thin between helping everyone else manage their problems and altercations.

all this is to say: everyone in the party has their problems, and a good sum of these are not all instantly solved by the end of the story. all of them, siffrin included, are left in a space where they have plenty of healing to do but can confidently and comfortably still rely on one another.

ISAT is just siffrin's chapter of major emotional plight, and everyone else's is presumed prior to the narrative (i can also acknowledge that siffrin definitely got the worst of it though LMAO)