#especially when i have so many unfinished

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

[theamazingannie]

One of my stories goes back and forth between present day and flashbacks so I thought a good way of separating the two would be to write in past tense for the past and present tense for the present until I remembered that I HATE writing in present tense so I scrapped that but I really wish I changed my mind sooner cuz after months of editing I’m STILL finding present tense verbs in here and I’m losing my mind

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[ave661]

Post about art-theft, AI and tracing of my render:

Unfortunately, one of my renders I made a year ago, was traced, copied, edited by AI by "brothers in arms" store and now sold as a merch aimed towards CoD fandom. They are currently sending this out to various cosplayers asking them to promote it.

As someone who is affected by this, I have to speak up about it.

(post about it on twt & insta)

I found out about it by accident when I saw promoted post on my insta feed. When I started talking about it in my stories, this store sent me a private message saying they had been working on this design for weeks and had never heard of me so they definitely didn't steal anything, and offered me free stuff. When I disagreed with them and sent them files comparing our works, they stopped replying to me, so I continued talking about it again on my insta. Only when my followers started leaving comments under their post saying this is wrong, they decided to continue discussion on the next day.

2. They mentioned that they could have been inspired by some pictures they found on the internet and showed me their "first sketch" of design… which was made by AI.

3. During the conversation, they mentioned that their artist could have based his work on a picture he found on the Internet, but he defended himself by saying that they might not have known it was mine. But even if they didn't know about me, even if they found some fanart on the Internet - it doesn't mean you can copy something detail by detail and sell it as your own. What is most important here, their offer to solve the problem was to give me credits in their design. IF they worked hard on it, why would they want to give me credits? My offer was to remove it.

4. Why do I mention that it could have been done by AI? because many lines are unfinished and a lot of details don't make sense.

5. Below is a comparison of my render that I published on March 18, 2023 with their first sketch they showed me, which apparently they drew themselves:

I am saying this so that the CoD community, which is very large, will be aware of this, because there are many people who have already bought it and after my insta story, they felt bad and said they want return it because they don't want to support art theft.

It's not just about me anymore - it could have happened to anyone who creates fanart and share it on the Internet just for fun. One day someone may use it for their own profit without us being aware of it. It doesn't matter if it's a 3D render or a drawing. All artists in this (or any other) fandom do not deserve to experience such thing, and we need to speak out about it to prevent it from happening in the future.

Reposting fanart is, as this example shows, dangerous and hurtful, so please respect artists and don’t do this. Especially on pinterest.

Their only proposal and offer to give me credits for the work they traced is something I will never agree to.

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

We fell in love in October 🍁

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Just a warning, I will be annoying all of you with Fall fics until the end of November.

The order is here -> 🎂

It's a Saturday, and you're bored out of your mind. Luckily, you have a boyfriend with a car who will take you anywhere in the world, but especially in the back of his truck.

《Content》: NSFW. Car sex, finger sucking, PiV, creampie. Don't worry, there's plenty of fluff and silliness!!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

An exasperated huff left you, your head hanging off the couch as you realized that watching the mundane program on the TV upside down did not, in fact, cure your torturing boredom.

It was one of those days; one of those days when nothing seemed interesting and no matter what you tried, you were left staring at the clock on the wall, watching as the seconds went by excruciatingly slow.

Although saying you had nothing to do wouldn't quite be the truth. There was plenty you had to do.

The laundry needed to be folded, the dishwasher unloaded and that one creaking door hinge that had been driving you crazy for who knows how long could do with a bit of oil.

You would just let all of those responsibilities be a problem for tomorrow-you.

Your neck started to ache and you became dizzy, so you decided to leave your odd position on the couch and see if you could find a craft to occup yourself with.

Pulling out the basket of supplies, you rummaged through it, pulling out unfinished projects, some abondend and others waiting to be started.

But none of them spoke to you. There really was no point in trying to force creativity or your art. It came when it pleased and it went just as quickly.

With an annoyed whine, you haphazardly stuffed all the yarn and felt and paper back into the basket, shoving it back in its place beneath the coffee table.

You had run out of ideas at this point. It was 9 pm on a Saturday, the air crisp and dark in the depths of fall. No cozy seasonal movies piqued your interest, despite the lovely decoration you had put out with so much care.

You sat on the floor of your living room with a pout, your back pressed against the couch as you stewed in your boredom.

You'd wilt and wither away soon, you could feel it. The monotone ticking of the clock was starting to make your blood boil. The sound felt like nails on a chalkboard, unpleasantly scratching at your brain.

If you didn't find something to do soon, you'd chuck your cinnamon scented candle at the damn thing.

But then, just a moment later, with the creak of wooden floorboards in the next room over, all your problems were solved.

You remembered your boyfriend that had been locked away in his office for hours now, drowning in paperwork.

You shuffled over to where his workspace was, gently rasping your knuckles against the door before peaking your head in.

Leon was hunched over his desk, a lamp illuminated the room and the sounds of a pen on paper could be heard.

You almost scoffed at the sight of his work glasses folded onto the table.

You have scolded him many times for not wearing them; it wasn't like he needed glasses to see, quite the opposite actually, his sight and aim were impeccable.

But they served to take the strain off his eyes when he was working at this hour with such a horrendously bright light.

You decided against arguing this time, although it wasn't an easy decision.

"Leon?" You asked softly, quietly closing the door behind you.

He swiftly held up a finger to you with furrowed brows.

"Just... give me second to finish this sentence..." he mumbled, and you waited silently.

There was little more infuriating than being in the middle of writing a phrase and being interrupted.

Your gaze shifted around the room, taking in the simplicity of it all.

There was no color at all, really, and no decor. Not a picture or a silly paperweight.

It served it's purpose, you supposed; Leon was very adamant about keeping work and home separate. Though, it wasn't always like that. Before you started dating him, the line between his work as an agent and his home life was almost invisible, practically nonexistent.

Oftentimes, his work was his home.

The familiarity of being out in the field gave him a sense of morbid comfort. But since you came into his life, it changed. You wanted him to have peace and quiet and safety that didn't come in the form of a rotten shack in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't easy to get him away from all that he knew, but you couldn't be more proud of him for giving himself boundaries.

The dropping of a pen on the wooden desk brought you out of your thoughts and your gaze to Leon.

"Now," he sighed, turning to face you in his chair, "what can I do for you, my sweet angel?"

His voice was soft with just a tint of a mischievous smirk ringing through his words.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous display of affection, but the smile on your cheeks betrayed you.

"I'm bored." You stated blandly, your arms hanging by your sides.

"Bored?" He raised a brow at you.

"What about all those crafts you wanted to finish?"

"No.. not feeling it." you sighed.

Leon thought for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Okay, well, you've been wanting to watch-"

"No..."

"You really did want to try out that-"

"No...."

He hummed in thought before opening his mouth to speak again.

"We have to get that laundry folded, we could-"

"No!" You cried out dramatically, sinking to the floor and splaying out on the small carpet.

"I will bore to death. I will rot and decay into a pile of dust from the lack of activity- My brain will shrivel up is what's gonna happen, actually."

Your complains were muffled as your cheek was pressed against the rough texture of the rug.

Leon stretched and sighed.

"You're not exactly making it easy, babe." He chuckled dryly, watching as you grumbled something into the carpet.

You sighed loudly and Leon pinched the bridge of his nose at your dramatics, but couldn't hold back his smile at just how fucking adorable you were.

He pushed himself out of his chair and laid down beside you on his back, hands folded over his stomach.

"We don't need to stay inside, you know. We can go anywhere we want. Just say the word, sweetheart." He said softly, glancing at you.

You pulled your face away from the floor and looked at him, your cheek squished up against the rug.

His expression softened at the subtle shimmer in your eyes.

"I guess you're right... but where would we even go?" You replied. Leon turned on his side, his head rested in his hand, supported by a propped up elbow.

"I'll take you wherever you want to go, angel. Lucky for you, you have a boyfriend with a polished truck and a shiny new license. Not to mention how incredibly handsome he is-"

You slapped his arm and giggled, a grin spreading on his face at your reaction.

"He's indeed quite handsome. Don't tell him but I'm only with him for his car." You leaned in to whisper the secret in his direction.

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw his face.

"I'm kidding, babe." You chuckled, scooching closer and pressing a peck to the tip of his nose, watching in delight as his face scrunched up.

"You better be." He grumbled, pulling you into his chest.

You gazed up at him with bright eyes and everything in him melted.

"Of course." There was a beat before you spoke again.

"It is a nice car, though-" you said with a grin.

Leon scoffed and shoved his hands under your shirt, tickling your bare sides.

"You're a little brat, you know that?" He smirked. You writhed under his hands, laughing and wheezing, trying to get away from him.

"S-Stop- you love me!" You heaved between laughs.

"That I do." He chuckled, stoping the ticklish torture and pulling you back against him with your back pressed to his chest.

"You've got me wrapped around your finger, pretty girl." He sighed into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You were panting still, leaning back against him as you caught your breath.

"Can we go for a drive?" You asked quietly, stroking his knuckles while his arms were wrapped around your middle.

"Sure. Where do you wanna go?" He breathed, reveling in the comfort of having you in his embrace.

"I don't know, just... wherever you are." You said softly, one of those beautiful and gentle smiles on your face. His lip twitched upwards, and his cheeks became hot. You still had the ability to fluster him like on the first day.

"Okay.." he replied, swallowing down the butterflies that feared to rise up his throat from his stomach.

"Okay." You sighed, snuggling back into the warmth of his body.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

With several cozy blankets in tow, you made your way out of your warm and homely apartment to Leon's truck.

The dark paint shimmered slightly in the cool rays of moonlight. He opened the door for you with a gentle smile, and when he went to close it you pulled him in by the front of his sweater to press a sweet kiss to his lips as a thank you.

Leon hummed in delight, closing the door before getting into the driver's seat.

"You ready?" He asked, glancing over at you only to laugh when he saw you wrapped in a soft blanket, only your face peaking out.

"As I'll ever be." You replied enthusiastically, your cheeks rounding from your wide smile.

Leon chuckled and shook his head, kicking the car into gear and pulling onto the street.

The quiet rumble of the tires on the street filled the silence between both of you.

There didn't need to be much talking, the two of you content in the safe and warm atmosphere of the truck.

You put on some cozy fall tunes and sunk back into your seat, admiring Leon's profile.

He was as handsome as ever; those blond locks, the beautiful bump on his nose, the curve of his lips and his strong chin that flowed nicely into his soft jawline. The light of the passing street lamps illuminated his features perfectly.

"So," He broke the silence, "how are you getting along with those costume ideas?"

"I've got a few." You hummed, cupping his hand, the one situated on the gear stick.

"Alright, what have you got?" He asked, a hand lazily grasping the steering wheel.

"My first idea was Morticia and Gomez. A classic, in my opinion. And they have a surprisingly healthy relationship."

Leon smirked.

"That's basically an excuse for me to touch you all night. Worship you, even. Not a bad suggestion, Cara mia." He purred, emphasizing the nickname. You laughed and gently shoved his arm.

"At least we know you'd be an excellent Gomez." You snorted, rolling your eyes playfully when he wiggled his brows at you.

"Next I thought we could be the Maitlands from Beetlejuice. They're not the most recognizable but I think they fit us pretty well." You smiled.

"Besides, I'd kill to see you in a flannel and some glasses." You grinned, watching as Leon huffed and slightly turned his head to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Oh, shut up." He grumbled.

"What? You'd be perfect for a dorky model builder who loves his wife!" You argued.

He perked up, a quirk of interest in his brow.

"So you're saying I get to be pretend to be married to you for a night? Sign me up."

He smirked and you chuckled.

"You could be married to me for real, you know. It's in your hands, I'm just saying." You shrugged, slightly showing off your bare ringfinger.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. You'll get that ring sooner than you think." Leon hummed, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The statement caught you off guard and your face suddenly felt hot and your ribcage too small for your pounding heart.

You cleared your throat and kept your head low, trying to hide your flustered face.

"Moving on; the last one I have is Ghostface and a helpless victim. Those Scream parodies are gold." You laughed.

Leon winced at the suggestion and you tilted your head.

"Not your favorite idea?"

"Let's keep that one in the bedroom, yeah?" He winked at you with a devilish smirk, cackling when you smacked his arm and began scolding him.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Leon whispered with a sultry tone, laughing when you squawked at him.

"Shut up!"

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

At this point, you had pulled over at the side of the road, the stars an image to magnificent to pass up.

You and Leon were huddled together on the hood of his truck, wrapped in blankets as you gazed at the sparkling specks of gold on the deep indigo tent that was the clear night sky.

"Aren't they pretty?" You whispered, your head resting on his shoulder, trying to make out the constellations.

"Yeah... but they don't hold a candle to you." Leon replied quietly, a soft smile on his face.

"Charmer." You chuckled.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest and brightest star in my sky."

You sighed with a smile, a constant in your life since Leon became a part of it.

"Leon Kennedy, do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?"

He chuckled.

"What's stopping you, huh? I'm all yours, baby."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up with him on top of you in the back of his car, his tongue teasing your mouth while his hand was on its steady way into your pants.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair while he forced your legs open with the width of him.

His other hand was gently cradling your face, stroking your cheekbone with a softness that made you melt. It was a mess of spit and a clashing of teeth, with occasional moans and sighs.

He swallowed up every pretty sound you made, vowing to keep them in the deepest parts of his heart that were reserved for you, and you only.

His fingers graced the waistline of your panties, only for them to trail further down, over your mound until he was caressing your clothed folds with firm strokes.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the delicious sensation.

"Oh, fuck..." you breathed, a whimper escaping your throat when the rumble of Leon's chuckle vibrated against the skin of your neck.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He heaved with a smirk, groaning when you nodded eagerly.

"Such a pretty angel..." he whispered, going back to devouring your mouth while he stroked along the wet spot that had formed on your underwear.

Your pants were shimmied down all the way to your ankles, along with your panties.

"Open up for me." He purred, pressing two of his fingers down on your tongue, watching as you took them deep in your mouth and began suckling on them.

You moaned around his digits, feeling his callouses and the contours of them against the roof of your mouth.

"That's a good girl..." he praised, rivulets of drool running from the corners of your lips.

He pulled them free, earning a displeased whine from you before gently rubbing at your slit. You jolted at the euphoric feeling and were reduced to a blabbering mess.

"Oh, please, please, please, please..." You babbled, hooking your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

Leon chuckled breathlessly and fished his throbbing cock out of his boxers and sweatpants, sliding his tip through your folds.

The head of his dick caught on your clit in a way that made you cry out in bliss, a sound that was enough for him to cease his teasing.

"I'll give you what you want, sweetheart." He grunted, pushing his whole length inside of you. He moaned at the snug fit of your velveteen walls around him, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

When he bottomed out, you let out a shuddered groan at the feeling of being so full of him.

"Shit... you feel so good..." Leon breathed, beginning to rut his hips against yours the best of his ability in the small space of the backseat.

It didn't take long before he was thrusting into you at a considerable pace, his thumb circling your clit while you moaned and writhed beneath him.

The heavy weight of him was comforting as it pressed down on you. It was nearly impossible to catch your breath with him kissing you so feverishly.

The pleasure was overwhelming, making your head spin as you were consumed by the ecstasy that seeped deep into your bones.

At a particularly hard thrust you clenched around him and cried out, making a strained groan rip from his throat.

"Oh, God... please, I'm so close..." You whimpered, tightly holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself as best as you could.

Leon was panting, keeping his thrusts and the pressure on your clit steady.

"You look so good all fucked out." He moaned, watching your glazed eyes and scrunched brows.

You mewled when the coil in your stomach started to tighten, a slow and strong build up.

Like a crack of thunder, that coil snapped and your orgasm washed over you, making you shudder from pleasure.

A jumbled mess of moans left your mouth as the bliss flooded your veins and you clamped down on his cock.

Leon was close behind, grunts and groans signaling his climax as he cupped your chin and pulled you into a kiss.

He spilled inside of you, filling you up with a pleasantly warm feeling. You tried to catch your breath, Leon panting above you.

"Y-You know how you said I'm the prettiest and brightest star in your sky?" You heaved, riding out the aftershock of your release.

"Yeah. What about it?" Leon tilted his head, breathing heavily.

"Stars can only be seen when it's dark. So, will you be my night so I can continue to shine?"

He huffed softly, a sound of fondness before gently cupping your face.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

What would your couples costume with Leon be???

More Leon and others -> 💫

《Leon tgalist》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @entr4p3 @allysunny @withonly-sweetheart @leonslittlekennedy

Lmk if you want to be added to my taglist 🩷

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[lxmelle]

Those letters for his students was like Gojo’s way of showing consideration for them.

That’s what Geto Suguru, the “Gojo translator”, would say to them, if he was there.

I mean, there was a reason they were best friends - Geto understood him the best. He helped him learn how to (and the importance of) connecting to others - how to not be lonely.

It was the same in the scene with Kuroi. Right before he shouted for Gojo over the time, he just instinctively knew how to connect with Gojo and helped others with sympathising with Gojo.

I didn’t play the JJK game but I think the undercurrent dynamics is similar. Their bond. The exclusivity. Love. The whole breakup was about their friendship. The change the new generation got was also due to the path forged by them. As it stands, Gojo is shown to be largely misunderstood and nobody aside from Yuta has shown much affection for Gojo. Maybe Yuji ... to some degree. But I digress.

Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, but considering how Geto-centred Gojo’s GIGA Character book was, he was likely influenced by Geto’s strong protective love for his “family”.

It makes sense to me that Gojo thought it would be important to put the students’ minds at ease with any thoughts/questions about their family. Hence the letters to help tie up loose ends.

Megumi was shown to be thinking about his father, whin he assumed was out there somewhere. Even if he didn’t want to know, there is a subconscious level of unfinished business from thinking this. And to know that Gojo killed him, may have helped him realise that his sensei had his back all this while. He was worth protecting all this while. That chapter of his life can truly close.

And just how bloody typical of his sensei, who has no “delicate-ness” about him!

As a sensei, and as a person, Gojo always protected others from his own personal concerns. He and Geto both stubbornly lived & fought “alone” because this was just their belief as the burden of the strongest = to protect others. The line was drawn and Gojo only ever wanted Geto to understand him, hence his conversation in 236. Only ever needed Geto by his side: hence his only complex was Geto leaving him behind.

We see this in how Shoko felt distant from them both. Stating in her inner monologue how she could never love either of them, but she was there - insinuating what they had between them was not something she could give (love) but her friendship was there if only Gojo let her in. And we see it in how, when she tried to connect with Gojo post-unsealing, by including Geto’s body as someone to be retrieved, he was a bit taken aback, starting his sentence with a long pause “……...” and keeping it simple / not elaborating (だな - it’s like the equivalent of a “yeah” but implies agreement).

Also, the fact the students and others can joke and call him an idiot, etc. means he really hid it well. Gojo protected them all. (As a teacher and adult should, I guess.)

I’m reminded of this scene.

Geto helped Gojo empathise & “not bully the weak”, but to also consider what else may be important... even if they may not think so themselves.

Until they receive what they thought they didn’t want, only to realise it was what they needed after all.

Cuz… y’kow: people (especially children) don’t always know what they want or need.

Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. What you need isn’t necessarily what you want.

Gojo & Geto lived through that too... didn’t they? On so many levels… wanting, needing, denying, losing, yearning. Carrying their burdens they had nobody to share with. Making decisions on their own. Giving to the other a piece of their heart. Sacrificing themselves. Accepting each others loneliness as their own. Thinking they were better off loving the other by being apart.

The painful lessons that shaped the way for the new world. Children given the protection from The Strongest Sorcerer of the Modern Era. Granted a world with fewer curses for 10 years due to the Strongest Curse User.

Children who had adults to guide, protect, and care for them.

Children who do not have to be killed for the mistakes of others, who were forced to commit sins, or for being born a certain way.

I think every single sorcerer who were adults helped the kids in some way. The layers and layers of this story is just... overwhelmingly beautiful.

Much remains to be seen now. I’m worried that Yuta will have to live in Gojo’s body and that Kenjaku’s eerie words of Yuta being “the next Gojo Satoru” will extend beyond that battle.

People on X seem to be speculating whether a world without curses will exist (going back to jjk 0 and Geto’s ideals). What of the barriers without tengen? Some question reality as we are being shown - is it an elaborate dream? Hm.

I hope for the plant/flower trio at least... Megumi and Yuji can use their shared tragedy as vessels who committed sins to bond and support one another. Nobara is a great buffer and heroine in her own right. Their dynamics are really amazing. Independent, yet so bonded.

I’d love to see Gojo & Geto at peace. I guess whatever happens, chapter 236 is a bit like salvation. And doesn’t Megumi’s smiling pic (above) look similar? If these two smiled as if they had no regrets , we can assume Megumi smiled sincerely upon receiving the letter, too.

As long as Gege doesn’t do anything to change it.

Please please don’t. They deserve a reward for their hard work and sacrifice!

[ilions-end]

i finished statius' ACHILLEID. thoughts thoughts thoughts:

i knew going in it was a VERY short unfinished epic, but i didn't know it would be FUN?? if i ever get that time machine, FIRST THING i go back and find one publius papinius statius, i lock him in a room, and i'm NOT letting him out until he's finished the achilleid!

achilles is statius' BLORBO in a way neither homer, quintus nor virgil have blorbos. statius likes achilles to be strong and pretty and graceful, but most of all ENDEARING even when he fails. and he fails a lot, because this is him still figuring out how to be an adult, not to mention a prophesied legend literally everyone is waiting for to step up

the one thing that gets tiring is just how many prophecies permeate the achilleid. nothing's left to chance, there are so few unknowns. even ODYSSEUS was aware that from peleus' wedding there would come a child destined to be a central warrior in an upcoming gigantic war.

as it stands, the achilleid is more of a... thetisiad? she is very centered in the narrative (we spend more time looking at things from her point of view than achilles') and there is SO MUCH SYMPATHY for her, oh my gosh!! she loves ONE person, her son, the only worthwhile thing she got out of a traumatizing marriage, and she despairs that he's fated to die young in a silly human war.

also i'm a deidamia defender forever now. so three-dimensional, so clever!

aughhh i love how much characterization statius puts in, even in the small scenes! my favourite example is odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' place (literally just moving characters from A to B). diomedes teases odysseus, and odysseus is delighted to be teased. that night we're told odysseus CAN'T SLEEP because he's too excited about showing off his plan the next morning!

the unveiling of achilles is completely different from the chagrined defeat/"achilles is a fucking idiot" ways i've heard it retold! i love that it's collaborative, it's a mutual triumph. it's just as much achilles (who's been suffering in gender dysphoria hell for a year) longing to be exposed as it is odysseus LIVING for showing everyone (especially diomedes?) how clever he is. it's not just the shield and the spear and the bugle, it's odysseus playing the part of the siren, whispering in achilles' ear that he knows who he is and describing how glorious he will be on the trojan battlefield. it's achilles' grateful relief at being ALLOWED not to pretend anymore as he rips off his own dress even before the bugle calls

also it's very important to me that the moment he's no longer hunching over trying to make himself look small and inoffensive, we're told achilles is taller than both odysseus and diomedes

i KEEP IMAGINING how good statius would have made the rest!! especially because as book ii ends, achilles regards odysseus as a cool uncle; he's the guy who rescued him! i want to think statius would have put in the big mystery quarrel achilles and odysseus are said to have had early in the war, something to drastically change that affection. i want to know how statius would have handled troilus, and the gods. augh statius you roman BLUEBALLER

an assortment of story beats still revolving in my head:

chiron is such a sweetheart!! he's SO gallant with thetis, he's so affectionate with achilles. he HIDES HIS TEARS when achilles leaves, awww

statius writes out phoinix completely. as a phoinix stan i object. sure chiron can raise young achilles, but i NEED phoinix to tend to him as a baby

i enjoy how achilles EXPLODES into a mess of teenagerly hormones when he first sees deidaima. it's so funny that thetis is looking on (and we get my favourite simile of the achilleid, of a herdsman delighting in a young bull snorting and foaming at a beautiful heifer) like "aaaaand there's my son's sexual awakening. i see! well, we can use that" and THAT explains why achilles is so willing to commit to the female disguise

(listen. listen. few things mean more to me than the love between achilles and patroclus. but achilles is a teenage boy at the age when a fucking breeze will give him a boner, and deidamia is the most beautiful and the cleverest of her sisters. i really enjoy a story where achilles and deidamia are neither "fated eternal true love" or one's a sneaky opportunist. it's much more compelling that they're both knots of budding emotions and bodily feedback)

i notice that statius never uses the name pyrrha, he doesn't seem to have a fake name at all, just "achilles' sister"

lycomedes is SO honoured and proud that thetis is entrusting her daughter to him. i feel sorry for lycomedes, he seems so earnest and hasn't done anything to get tricked

the one thing i can't forgive statius for is that after spending SO much time establishing that achilles and deidamia (who knows he's a guy) are genuinely into each other, it feels like statius goes OUT OF HIS WAY assuring us that their first sexual encounter is rape. sure they talk right after, deidamia forgives him, AND i understand there are social rules that makes deidamia more "honourable" and "worthy" when she resists, but like. sigh.

aLONG with the previously mentioned interplay between odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' court, there's a simile where they're both starving wolves on the hunt. so sexy it's almost illegal

the feast scene is SO FUNNY omg. all of achilles' careful feminine training dissolving because odysseus and diomedes are there with their boundless masculinity for him to feed off of. deidamia practically WRESTLING achilles back down on the couch every time he forgets himself and behaves too much like a man. odysseus chatting with lycomedes SPECIFICALLY trying to rile up achilles, and then after the women have left (achilles dragging his feet and looking back, YEARNING for their male company) odysseus specifically praises the maiden's "almost masculine" beauty (because ohh he suspects. he just needs to prove it in the morning. he can't SLEEP for it)

when they depart, achilles earnestly swears to deidamia that no other women shall ever bear his children. i find it interesting as a reminder of the social rules of its era. neither of them expect achilles to be sexually exclusive, just not fathering potential heirs. which again makes me wonder about the contraceptives in ancient greece

on the ship towards aulis, diomedes begs achilles to tell them all about his feats and training with chiron, and achilles is so shy about it! who can blame him! diomedes has a WAY more impressive track record

odysseus is SO good at firing up achilles' outrage at paris even as he's just catching him up on what the war's about. and he's so pleased at how easily achilles' outrage can be directed! you KNOW that would have developed in such an interesting way AUGH THE REST WOULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD.

[c0kitty]

NOW PLAYING ... STAY THE NIGHT ft. fwb!abby anderson x f!reader

(⭑) content: wc 600+ hc. modern au. fwb!abby. smut-ish. cursing. dickhead!abby. soccer player!abby. both in uni.

READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby who you disliked with a passion. it wasn’t for no reason. abby’s constant air of arrogance, her playboy-mentality with women, and her ability to have everyone at her will — just being the school’s soccer champion, didn’t sit well with you. 

so, it was your surprise when you ended up in her freaking bed later that week.  

you don't entirely remember how it happened, but one moment you were at ellie’s party, doing an intense shot-game with abby, and the next — you both were severely drunk in ellie’s bathroom, cornered, with you on the counter, and abby’s lips on yours.

you remembered small fragments of the night: abby’s lips being so soft, and tongue tasting like a mixture of vodka and grapefruit. your legs being propped around abby’s hips.

abby’s rough hands, slipping through your unbutton jean’s and into your soaked panties. 

her voice, low and soothing in your ear, “c'mon let me hear you, princess.”

it was different from her usual rough tone with you; and the worst part is you liked it. liked her praising you, whispering sweet-nothings.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who fucks you out. the night after was a bit of a whiplash for you. your lips kiss-swollen, dark hickies splayed on your neck, and you were wearing abby’s jersey

abby’s arm was wrapped at your hips, holded tight like she would die before letting you go. her body half-naked only in boxers.

and for some reason having seeing abby like that, stirred so many emotions. to desire, warmth, comfort.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who you can’t sleep with again — you couldn’t be like those girls she’d fuck and get bored with after they’d caught feelings.

so, you leave without a word. but, soon after, you guys would see each other in class, eye’s drawn to each other.

��and it more or less happens again, rushed in a random janitor’s closet, again in abby’s freakishly-clean room, and again, in abby’s truck, her hands pushing your shaky legs apart, two fingers curling at your g-spot.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who is obsessed with you, always has been. she liked how you were always head on with her stubbornness, she loved how confident, smart, pretty, especially in those mini-skirts you always wear.

and, even though abby did love etching a reaction out of you, she wanted something more; beyond the snarky exchanges you guys had.

so with this arrangement you guys had goin’ on — all it did was fuel that even more.

to your pretty little moans to her ears, your strawberry glossed-lips, and how you chanted her name reaching your high.

she didn’t want anybody else to have this — have you.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who you continue with this fwb thing for two-months. it was at first to you, a way to release pent-up frustration with school and life, plus the sex was good. but after a while

… you wouldn’t just immediately leave after you guys fucked, sometimes you and abby would actually have civil conversations, joke around, watch movies in bed, cuddle.

it was all starting to seem … coupley. and it scared you how much you didn’t mind it.

not minding when she arrived after-practice sweaty, at your doorstep, showering you with kisses, not minding her head on your lap as she slept snoring softly, and not minding staying up late, embarrassingly-waiting for abby to respond to your texts.

it’s not entirely glitz and glamor. you guys would still argue, more so about stupid shit. 

like who’s gonna get the remote that’s on the floor, which results into a big disagreement.

(⭑) ── yet as the weeks passed, the arguments seemed to dwindle and sometimes, abby would apologize, with your favorite food in hand.

it's very unfinished but yay i posted! 😭

[neonovember]

Oh my GOD oh my for okay though that new fic you wrote with Carmy? 12/10 chefs kiss mwah mwah MWAH!! 💕💕💕 That part with Carmy going ballistic and beating the shit out of that asshole customer I LOVED it!! Now it’s got me thinking of Carmen going absolutely feral, just insane if he’s in the kitchen cooking and calling orders, while you’re out front taking orders from customers. He and the rest of the kitchen just go silent and stop in their tracks when they hear a guy just screaming at the top of his lungs at you, using the absolute most vile words against you and Carmen just sees red, especially if whoever it is ups and yells something along the lines of “You stupid fucking whore-“ and Carmen’s just a blur as he POUNCES on this guy. (Richie’s either cheering him on or trying with all his strength to claw Carmen off before he straight up kills the guy)

Office Doors

Oooh you guys are spoiling me rotten with these requests…I love a good feral fic every once in a while and this one was..well you'll know what i'm talking about once you've read it ;) I haven't written Carmen in a day and I miss him already, school has been up my ass so if you have sent me a request, don't worry it's being written, and re-written and-. Thank you anon for getting my gears going and your lovely messages 🥰🥺 ur support means the world

warnings: swearing, objectification and misogyny, angst, oral (f recieving), smut, thigh riding (?), porn with plot, feral!carmen

carmen berzatto x reader!

(This is totally and completely canon btw)

You stretch your body across the diner tables, dipping a dirty cloth into lukewarm soapy water before rinsing it out. The lunch rush had just slowed to a even pace, the sound of Carmen yelling out dishes from his line finally quieting down.

You have just a little time to spare, and you spent that time quickly wiping down the Beef’s tables that had begun to accumulate a few too many stains and unfinished crumbs of bread.

You had grown up in a home that was always messy, all the time. And no matter how much times you had asked, and no matter how much times you had just done the chores themselves, the clutter of dirty dishes and old wet clothes in the laundry had permanently been embedded into your family home.

It’s partially why you had loved the sterile laboratory of you culinary kitchens. Clutter caused your skin to itch with anxiety, it made you feel dirty, and with the way you scrub the diner tables a little too hard you wonder if it's another one of the many joy’s your family had given you.

And whilst the Beef was so different from your environment back in culinary school, it wasn’t necessarily worse. In fact, you had grown to fall in love with the quirks of the kitchen, the ‘fuck you carmen’ napkin holder, the too small walkway, the framed pictures of beloved regulars and the staff’s families. Most of all, however, was the family you had built here, the kind you couldn't find working under a domineering CDC.

The kind that had always been waiting for you, been planted deep into the earth like roots.

Besides, you and Carmen had bonded together during the late nights after most of the family had gone home. Were you both were left, scrubbing the floor together in a rhythmic silence that seemed to be more therapeutic than work.

You’ve nearly finished wiping down the last of the stools perched against the counter top of the front when a loud guffawing causes you to break your trance-like state.

Jovial yelling breaks into the rarely quiet restaurant as the door swings open, and a stream of rowdy men dressed in pullovers and fleece jackets, with scarves and basketball hats of distinct sport team colours wrapped around their necks.

One man is fully decked out, sporting the jersey and beanie of what seemed to be a hockey team. The boom of his voice indicates he was the loudest too, unaware of the grumble of patrons around the restaurant that had grown annoyed at the man's violent rambling.

You breath out a sigh, finishing off wiping down the bar stools and putting the bucket of dirty water under the front counter. Before ironing out any creases in your apron and preparing yourself for the absolute headache this would cause.

They were a familiar bunch, usually coming in after games late after the dinner rush. It seemed there was a game during the early morning, as they grumble about not having anything to eat the entire day.

Their loud and annoying and swear too much and Carmen hates the way one of them looks at you but they order a shit ton of food and fuck if the bear needs money, what can you say.

Your eyes glance at a cup of coffee Richie had accidently left under the register, and you suddenly crave your afternoon pick me up well after the afternoon. The men begin walking up to the register, ignoring your polite greeting and going straight into listing off items from the menu as if you were a machine. You nod along all the words they were saying, and soon enough you give up on writing it down as they’ve practically ordered the entire menu safe for a few appetiser's. 

“Make it quick, yeah? We’re bloody starving '' One of the men calls out from his seated position in one of the booths and you give them a tight lipped smile, resisting the urge to throw that coffee mug at him. 

Carmen peeks his head from the entryway leading to the kitchen, his unruly ashy blonde curls falling to the sides as he shares a look with you,  as if to say ‘you alright? And you nod in that unspoken way the two of you have and tell him that you can handle it. Working in a kitchen didn't have to teach you how to deal with assholes, you had your family to thank for that one again.

You hear the familiar sound of Carmen shouting out orders, and the sizzle of pans and boiling pots increase in order to push out the lengthy order before more foot traffic would pour in. 

You’re trying to fix the register when it happens, something gets caught in the old janky machine, causing the cash drawer to get stuck as you have to hit its sides at a certain angle to get it to open up again. Years and Carmen refuses to get it fixed, or buy a new one all together, resorting to having it taped up and banged every couple hours to get it working again.

You almost don’t see him, until he is leaning against the counter, into the space between the cash register and you, a greasy smile pulling at his features and he watches you. You bite back a grimace at the way his eyes trail down your apron, fixated on the dip of skin that peeks from the top of your shirt.

“Something you need Sir?” You ask politely, taking a tentative step back, your hand gripping the edge of the counter.

The man smiles strangely at your comment, cocking his head to the side before replying suggestively

“I definitely want something”

You cough, biting back your knee-jerk response to hurl at him, you can feel the burn of embarrassment against your cheeks and you swallow as you try to reply with a steady response.

“You’re food will be out in a short-while-” 

“You know, I think I’ve seen you around here, are you new to town?” The man tries to strike up a conversation

“Came here a few years ago and haven’t left since” You reply with a tight smile

“Ah! I know where you're from exactly now” The man replies with a grin that pulls his face upwards, it's eerie, his smile, like he knows something he shouldn't.

“There’s this porn star online, looks exactly like you, it’s kind of insane” The man replies with a smile that deepens as you stammer

You feel humiliated as you stare back at him, you don’t know what to say, and his eyes continue trailing down your body in a way that makes you feel disgustingly objectified. He’s reduced you to an object for him to gawk at, and you see the way the men behind him jeer and laugh that this is all a play to intimidate you.

You want to run straight home and scrub yourself clean, wash away the feeling of his imprinted gaze down the drain.

“You think we can recreate one of her videos when you get off work here?” The man replies, a glint in his eyes.

“What? You- you” You stammer and he breaks out into a laugh

“Awh, look at her, fucking shaking. Don’t tell me this is your first time?” The man eggs on to his friends, who have begun laughing and cheering him on.

You grit your teeth, trying to get the words out as you glance towards the kitchen, where was he? He leg twitches in want, wanting to get Carmen, wanting to run from the restaurants, wanting to run from the embarrassment and disgust you felt.

The flashes of Richie and Syd passing by is all you can see, the booming voice of Carmen being too wrapped up in the orders to notice what was happening.

“C'mon, just give me your number” The man presses on, leaning in so that only you can hear “It isn't like I don't know where you work” Before he leans back, muttering a halfhearted kidding under his breath

“You are disgusting” You spit out, trying to sound as confident as you can, and the mans eyebrow twitches, and he cocks his head like he was confused.

“What? I’m doing you a favour here, I'm actually a nice guy you know? Not one of those assholes on the street” The man scoffs, moving closer towards you and you have a feeling the man is waiting for a reason to lunge at you.

“Just, just take your food and your buddies and go alright? There doesn’t have to be a fight or-or” You continue, trying to de-escalate the situation and get him to just leave you the fuck alone.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m doing you a fucking favour and now your kicking me out?” The man begins to get heated, and his friends behind him watch on in silence, you can notice other customers begin to look your way, sensing the rising anger filling the room. You slowly step back, looking for something to shield yourself in case he comes at you.

“What, you think because you work you have some- some what, control? I don't think you know how this works doll, you give me your number, and I dump my load in you because your nothing but a stupid fucking whore” The man bellow, it’s so loud that it echoes through the Beef, that it reaches even the kitchen sinks where Manny is washing up. 

The man’s face grows red as the veins near his neck begin to pop out, he emphasises the last word, spitting it out like that was all you were.

The restaurant goes silent as the man heaves in exertion, the sound of Carmen shooting out orders is mute now, the slice of steel against bamboo stops, and the bear is fucking quite for the first time since it opened. 

Your body is pushed against the wall, near the swinging doors into the Kitchen, and you can see Carmen back to you, he has stopped cutting at his station, and the outline of muscle contracts under his white shirt.

Carmen turns, slowly, he turns to the family, as they all momentarily stop their tasks in shock at what they had just heard. He begins to chuckle a little to himself, as he replies in a quiet voice you and the man can still hear.

“What did he just say?” 

“Did he really say that? Did he really?” Carmen laughs to himself, nodding and gripping his hands into tight fists as the restaurant air gets thin. The man who had been screaming at you looks towards Carmen in confused fear, not knowing why this man was laughing and yet understanding he had completely fucked up.

The rest of the patrons can hear Carmen’s words, eyes widening, as they realise they were about to be collateral to a very one sided beat down. The crew looked at Carmen in silence, they had been used to Carmen's hot-headed temper, his bursts of anger that was more passion than rage. But this? This quiet silence of Carmen’s words, the way his chest heaves as you glances at your frightened position against the wall? They genuinely feared what he would do next, a silent rage like no other begins to envelop the restaurant, the air thin and suffocating as Carmen begins to walk through the kitchen and into the front counter.

“Don’t call an ambulance this time” Carmen mutters to Richie as he passes him by, Carmen’s eyes are fixed on you, trailing down your body before fixating on the shake of your hands. Carmen knows you well, and it’s the clench of your throat, like you're suffocating, like you can’t breath that snaps something in Carmen.

A malevolence Carmen has never felt spills into his gut, the burn of anger spreading against his chest until hes practically shaking with it, he is filled with this heart ache, like his heart is split in two and gushing as he realises his been cutting fucking chives whilst you nearly died. 

And something predatory fills Carmen, like he must prove to himself he can protect you, and in one swift move, like muscle memory etched into his bones, Carmen jumps over the front counter and swings his fist in one clean motion, knocking the man across the room.

The man’s body crumbles as he slams into the hardwood floor of the Beef, the immediate groan of twisted pain and pleads leave the man's mouth and Carmen is just so sick of his goddamn voice. 

It all went quiet then, the noise of Sydney yelling, of his friends, of the man’s heaving wet coughs, the air conditioner, all white noise. Carmen’s hand reaches for his ankle, dragging him back from his crawling escape.

“Oh, no no no, we’re not escaping now are we?” Carmen grunts, his voice lower than it usually is.

Carmen  wraps an arm around his throat, holding him there as he brings down his fist across his face. The wet sound of bones crunching into muscle and skin go on forever, bouncing across the room until the throaty heave of the man is all that is left of him. Carmen cannot stop the swing of his fists, something possesses him and as one of the men in hockey colours tries to grab Carmen arm he throws him back into the stack of barstool's piled near the tables. He is facing his back to you again, and you state, fixated on how his body moves to support him, the contracts and outline of his strong back, his large forearms that break bone with a mere swing.

His face swollen beyond recognition, piss and blood leaking from him, eyes bloodshot and awry. 

Carmen picks him up by his collar, the smudge of blood dripping down and staining his vest, whispering into his ear as the man’s eyes widen in harrowed fear.

“Apologise”

“..Whatnhn?” The man mumbles, the feel of his tongue swelling up and going numb, Carmen presses a hand against the man's bruised stomach, pushing  against the broken bone of his ribs until the Man wails in agony. 

“Apologise to her or I swear to god I’m breaking your fucking legs” 

The man spits out an apology, but you’re not looking at him, staring transfixed at Carmen,  at the way he’s golden curls fall across his eyebrows, at the way his muscles flex against his white shirt, at the way droplets of blood are splattered across the skin of his jaw. Carmen looks towards you, and something dark takes over his cerulean blues, blowing them out.

“Do you accept? Huh honey?”

You nod, letting an exhale out and Carmen tosses the man to a pile on the floor, reaching for your hand and dragging you to the office, you can hear the scatter of shoes as the men drag their friend out of the beef, and the crew looks towards each other in satisfaction, but also in knowing, in knowing they wouldn't dare open those office doors.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

The soft glow of the office is a stark difference to the bright light of the front counter, and you have to blink a couple times for your eyes to adjust, and when you do Carmen’s face is inches from you, leaning you against the office doors, his arm above your head.

“You didn't- didn’t have to” You mumble, your voice caught in your throat for a different reason.

Carmen looks down at you, shaking his head in amusement

“Don’t lie to me, you enjoyed that more than I did” Carmen whispers, leaning down near your ear, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck.

You let out a breathless sigh, and Carmen groans as he smells that familiar  vanilla always hinted on your skin Carmen could smell when you passed by you. Now, now, he can practically taste it right on his tongue.

The truth was, you did enjoy it, despite being non confrontational and cringing every time Richie would show you a fight where the crunch of bone on gravel makes you shudder, you were transfixed by Carmen. 

By the way he broke the man to a heaving mess with just his fuckinf fists, those same arms that are edging closer and closer to you, how would they feel between your thighs? The thought wraps itself tight in your belly, and you have to squeeze your thighs for friction.

No one had done that to you, no one had done that for you, and in a strange way it felt nice to be protected. To be wanted, and it causes a need to start building deep within you. 

Carmen's eyes fall to you, and his eyebrow twitches as a look of guilt washes over his features.

“I should’ve been there, I- fuck, did he do anything? Let me get a look at you” Carmen replies softly, grabbing your wrists to look for any bruises he feared you had.

“I’m fine, just a little, uhm, shaken up you know? Said some pretty horrible things” You reply, scratching at your neck as your mind replays the way he had reduced you to a thing.

Carmen shakes his head, his teeth grinding as he grips his fists, his biceps flexing. 

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, deal with people like fucking him, I swear to god if I find him on the street I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what? Finish off the job? There is always going to be guys like him, that isn’t going to change, and it’s something I have to deal with. But what I can’t deal with is if you get yourself thrown into a jail cell because of-of me” You reply, shaking your head and Carmen looks at you like he’s in love.

Gripping a hand to your chin, Carmen raises it so that you catch the burn of his cerulean blues as you can see.

“And That would be an honourable death for me” Carmen mutters, and you can’t take your eyes off him, until you're gripping his blood stain shirt tight against your chest until the suppression groans leaving his mouth are kissed into your neck.

You want him, want to taste him on your tongue, want to feel his weight against it. 

“Fuckin come here” Carmen groans out, reaching to wrap his hand around your jaw as he presses his lips against your own. The muffled of your moans escape your lips and Carmen slips his tongue between them. 

His pillowy soft lips wrap around your own, his nose bumping into your cheek as he wraps an arm around your back, pushing you against the office doors. It’s all teeth and tongue, the clash of teeth and muffled groans leaving the both of you. 

The suppression of both your desires falling between you two until you don’t stop to come up for air. 

It’s addicting the way he kisses you, and you have to grip his shoulder as an anchor as he begins to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling at the skin there before dipping down to your clavicle. 

You let out a moan as he blows cold air against the dip of your breasts, and Carmen looks down at you, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you shiver, waiting for him to give you what you want.

Carmen rips open your shirt, his eyes trailing across the curve and dip of your breasts, he mutters something under his breath, something like “beautiful” as his finger trailing the lace before unclipping it and tossing it behind him. 

Carmen cups one of your breasts, circling your nipple before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, you arch your back to him, and he follows it until he rests and your hip, squeezing the skin there as his eyes roll back at the taste of you.

“Please..” You groan out, your eyes watching the way Carmen pressing soft circles into your skin, he looks up at you in confusion, the hint of a smile curving at his lips.

“Please what?” Carmen replies, sucking bruises beneath your tits, drawing it out on purpose, having too much fun watching you suffer.

“Nmfha” You mumble incoherently when Carmen flicks his tongue around your nipple, whilst squeezing the other in his cold hands.

“I can’t hear you, what do you want?” Carmen replies with a hint of a moan, he’s having trouble himself, bucking his hips up into you as he watches the way you shake from his lips

“Wanna feel you Carm, wanna taste you” You groan out with a moan, Carmen grunts at your response, his eyes growing dark and heavy, and in one swift move, he hoist you up and swipes the coffee mugs and papers left scattered across his desk before placing you on the edge.

You spread your thighs, making room for him and he steps between them. 

“You wanna feel me sweet girl? You want me to take care of you? Please let me take care of you” Carmen pleads, rutting up against you as he tries to suppress the want pressing tight against his jeans.

“Carm” you groan out as Carmen tugs your jeans down leaving you in your lace underwear that Carmen grinds his jaw at, you don’t realise it but Carmen blue apron is discarded somewhere in the room, and as he carries you towards the coach you tug at his white shirt. 

He rips it off him in one move, and you drag your fingers across the deep of defined muscle that flexes under your touch.

Carmen moves your thighs so that you're pushed towards the edge of the couch, and he kneels between you, pressing a soft kiss to your knee, before trailing up your thighs. Carmen had been teasing you before but now there is a frantic eagerness in the way he touches you, like if he doesn’t taste you on his tongue he might combust.

Carmen hooks a finger into your underwear,pulling them down until you were bare for him. Carmen’s eyes glisten as he states at you, naked under him and sweating. God the image imprints in his mind and he wishes he can stay here forever.

Carmen presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, and your thighs shake in need, Carmen flicks his eyes up to you, and keeps eye contact, as he licks one long strip across your folds, closing his eyes and he groans at the taste of you. You contort you back at the pleasure the waves through you, eyes rolling back at the pressure of his tongue sucking your clit.

“Fucking- taste so” Carmen mumbles, before dipping his tongue between your folds, dragging it up and down, the sound of your heightened moans ripping through him. 

Dipping his tongue in your hole, Carmen pushes a finger between your thighs, presses soft circles around your clit as his tongue works your folds. Your thighs shake around the curls of his head and he pushes a hand down at your stomach to stop you from moving, making you take every wave of pleasure he pulls from you.

“Carm, please, they’re going to hear us” You groan out, and Carmen shakes his head, causing his tongue to drive deeper into you, before looking up at you, 

“Let them” 

Carmen stretches you out with his tongue, pushing it into you and out until your heaving, his thumb is pressed against your clit, and he pushes a finger into you before sucking onto your bud. 

You begin to see flashes of stars, as he thrusts a finger into your hole whilst sucking you, he scissors you open, curving his finger in a way that hits a particular spot that has you raising your hips, trying to pull yourself off of him, the white hot burn of pleasure getting too much.

“There baby? Right there?” Carmen groans out, thrusting his finger to hit that spot over and over

Carmen grips your hips, pushing you down, deeper, harder onto his mouth and fingers, pressing a second digit into you as he curves it to pull that sweet moan from your lips.

Carmen had many names, but his favourite was the broken syllabus of his own between your lips when you fell apart on his tongue.

“S’ close, so close Carmy, please” You babble out, before resigning yourself to the burn of pleasure the feels like fucking nirvana, it’s all around you, Carmen, this pleasure, it’s all you can taste.

“I know baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you okay, sweet girl?” Carmen groans, thrusting his hips into the floor, searching for friction as he watches the way your eyes roll back.

Carmen laps at your core, pushing the digits deeper, curving them upwards until you were screaming, he pushes your face down to look at him, he wants to see your face as you fall apart, and the coil that has begun to wrap itself tight snaps when he nibbles at your over sensitive clit and you see the way his dark eyes watch you, his eyebrows furrowed and your slick coats his chin.

You can’t feel anything but the white hot pleasure that rocks through you, you aren’t in your body, floating away in the pure saccharine pleasure of Carmen’s tongue and he laps at the pleasure dripping between your folds. 

You mumble incoherent words, the only thing leaving your lips is Carmen’s name as you babble, spit dripping from your open mouth as you're left in a heap, Carmen leaving you dumb.

Carmen works you through your release, licking and sucking at your sweet slick that he gathers on his tongue. You see the way he thrusts into the carpet, trying to find friction as the scene in front of him becomes too much.

The thought splits something within you, seeing how Carmen got off to getting you off was out of this world, causing the pleasure to start building in your core again. 

You drag Carmen up to meet your lips, and then push his tongue between your lips, causing you to taste him on your tongue. Carmen pushes his finger between his lips, sucking on the shine of slick coated there, his eyes heavy as he watches the way you grind your hips against him. 

He pushes his digits into your mouth, groaning at the way you suck on them eagerly. You push him to lean his back against the coach, before manoeuvring your hips to straddle him.

You rock your hips against his jeans, feeling the way the indent pushes and bumps against your core, Carmen throws his head back, his curls falling over his forehead and he grabs your hips, pushing you deeper, down down down until he is thrusting up into you.

You grip his shoulders raising your hips before pulling his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion. Carmen forces himself to look down at you, his gaze watching the way you tug at his length, swiping a thumb across the red tip, dragging pre cum down the thick girth of him.

Carmen groans out, gripping your hips tight, and you raise up, lining yourself perfectly before sinking down on him.

Carmen’s groans are beautiful, rumbling from his chests as he squeezes his eyes shut, you fit so perfectly around him, the heat and warmth and slick of you wrapped tight around his cock. His length is thick and girth, and you have to adjust to his size, moaning at the way he fills you up just right.

As you begin to move, Carmen presses a hand, begging for you to wait

“Just, one second, fuck you feel so good I might cum from one thrust” 

“Who says this is a one time thing?” You reply with a wicked smile, and Carmen groans loud at that.

You raise your hips, dragging your self on him before sliding down, your grind against him and he heaves in the pleasure of your tightness around him. 

It had been so long, and the feeling of you is almost too much. 

You struggle to raise your hips high enough, and Carmen wraps his hands tight around your hips before raising you himself, driving himself up into you and thrusting hard.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, and you meet his upward thrusts, groaning out as he fucks you dumb. You look gorgeous above him, the way your tits bounce with every thrust up has him hard all over again.

“Just like that baby girl, keep going, doing so fucking well, my baby” Carmen groans out, and you begin to shake at the combination of his praise the the feeling of his cock driving into you impossibly deep.

You want to make him feel good and you say this to him, causing his eyes to roll back when you squeeze yourself around him, hard, until his thrusts have to drive into you even harder.

The coach freaks loudly from Carmen’s pace, and he slams you down, positioning his cock deep into you, causing you to press half circles into your shoulder, scratching at his biceps and gripping the nape of his hair that causes him to rumble out your moaned name.

You can feel him getting close, his thrust growing sloppy and deep, you tighten around him, and his eyes are in a trance, watching the way you fit around him so perfectly.

Carmen moves to fold himself upright against you, and your eyes roll back to your head as you feel yourself climb up a familiar peak.

Carmen presses a hard kiss against your lips as you groan out, and as he slips a hand into your conjoined bodies, circling your clit you have to shove your fist into your hand to stop from screaming.

The feel of Carmen’s length driving into you and the sound of his ragged moans, mixed with the over stimulation against your clit, you can’t help but fall apart around his cock.

You squeeze yourself tight around Carmen, and he cries out, his thrusts growing slow as he joins you over the cliff, his cock thrusting up into you with spasms. His cheeks are a blush red, his tongue poking out as he follows both of your orgasms.

You fall against his chest, exhausted, pressing your cheek so that it rested against the hard muscle of his pecs. You swallow back a breath, gripping your hand around Carmen’s, as he brings it up to place a soft kiss. 

Your thighs are still shaking from stimulation, and Carmen caresses a hand across them, rubbing soft circles and you lay across his chest.

You stay like this for a moment, basking in the bliss of pleasure and sex and the soft curves and dips of your bodies.

After a bit, Carmen has to slip his out cock from your thighs, eyes fixated on the way your ecstasy mixed with his one drips down your thighs.

“Fucking gorgeous” Carmen replies, and you look up at him in surprise

“What? You don’t think I'll find you gorgeous after this?” Carmen smiles down at your flustered state, he brushes back the sweat and tears dripping down your cheeks.

“That was..you are. Well fuck, Carmen, why didn’t this happen sooner?” You reply, he manoeuvres you so that your legs lay across his thighs.

“Yeah, uh, we’ll I’ve got a whole bucket of shit you don’t want dragging you down” Carmen replies scratching his neck, suddenly more shy as he lay his heart bare to you.

“Yeah, we’ll you gave me no choice when you practically murdered that man” You reply, biting back a smile, as you press soft circles around his thumb.

“Should’ve fucking murdered him…”

“What happens now?” Carmen replies, looking at you nervous that this was you just scratching an itch, because he was head over heels in love with you and he would never recover

“God Carmen, you didn’t realise I’m in love with you already?” You reply with a smile, “Practically the entire restaurant does” 

Carmen looks up at you in wonder, his eyebrows furrowing as your words hit him hard. You loved him? You loved him. He wants you to repeat it a hundred times, he wants to hear your tongue say those words to him again.

“You are incomparable” Carmen mutters under his breath, before wrapping you tight against his chest, pressing a kiss that feels different now, less crazed and rushed and fueled by heated passion. It was new, it felt like a start of something.

“You think they’re okay out there?” You reply with a start.

“Hell no” Carmen replies, and you can’t help but laugh as you push your head through a shirt Carmen had passed to you.

You and Carm may have just confessed your love to one another, but you still had a goddamn restaurant to run.

[circuscountdowns]

I love cult of the lamb especially because it is a video game - the romantic interpretations and symbology we can expand on ourselves is great when crafting our own fanons, but rogue likes like this that base a narrative around the mechanics are always so top tier to me. So many of us base our comics/art on how our save goes right?

But the game doesn't have multiple endings, there's clearly only one way to beat the game and still have something to play. But the fact that being able to return the crown to TOWW is even an Option and it doesn't do as it did in the beginning with the Yes - Absolutely choice is so Juicy from a narrative perspective. Because when u sacrifice yourself you kinda just restart the day like it didnt happen! It's clearly the wrong choice in spite of credits!!!!

And I think a lot of us sacrificed once for the beloved cat god but a long time ago I saw someone comment on my comic that they sacrificed their lamb 15 TIMES! and to think about the implications of a timeloop like that ragghhhhhh

A loyal worshipping lamb so so so desperate to fulfill their purpose as TOWW's tool -- they knew from the beginning what would need to happen they're committed they properly know their place and they're a LAMB. sacrifice is in their blood, death is what they were made for -- but they for some reason CAN'T successfully free their god, everything just restarts! How frustrating to have your choice and wants invalidated but now you have to confront the fact that "fate" is straight up saying Hey this isn't the right way--and you have to become a traitor! You gotta bring your god down from his pedestal! No one was made to have what they want! Maybe you shouldn't have wanted it in the first place!

And you can take all that from just one little choice at the end of the game.

I have unfinished comics and writings diving into this idea because its so compelling to me. The illusion of choice in video games is soooo good. Forced time loop until you get it right.

[justmywriting1313]

Stupid British Man (John Price x f!Reader)

This is fairly unfinished and an unedited product of my fixation on these stupid military man and every hurt/comfort scenario you can think of but nonetheless enjoy!

PS:- I would really really REALLY love some COD requests since thats where the inspiration for writing is flourishing soooooo yeah please send stuff in thank you<3

Summary: John's a great captain but like all men in love he is also a stupid british man!

Warnings: Talk and direct mentions of smexy times, no aftercare (but not intentional and will come in part 2)

Jonathan Price is a military man...

More than that, he is a captain and a military man...

A captain in the military needs to embody many qualities, one of the most important being the ability to remain strong and stable in the face of adversity, anchored and calm in uncertainty, and always aware of their surroundings, especially when confronted with unprecedented situations that demand logic and rationality.

It's a trait John was not only confident he possessed but one he prided himself on (considering he was the captain of three complete muppets at times). Yet, as he stands there in his flannel pajamas, his member still damp and somewhat aroused from the recent pounding he gave you not five minutes ago, a warm washcloth in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, John has never been more flabbergasted in his life as he watches you cutely jump to pull your leggings up over your waist.

You had already fastened your bra and were now pulling your old university shirt over your head, a shirt John had previously loved. However, given that he had finally slept with you after a two-month deployment, he would prefer to see you in his clothing or nothing at all. Therefore, the sight of the worn-out piece of cloth offended him, to say the least. Even more so, because neither of you had received a lick of aftercare and the lack of it was making him antsy. Instead of waiting for him in bed like you should have, you were rummaging through your duffel bag for something John couldn't be bothered to inquire about. He was certain that nothing was important enough for you to leave the sheets before he had a chance to clean you up properly. So, with as much calm as he could muster, he said,

"What on fuckin' earth are you doing?

The heavy, accented voice of the captain makes you jump as you straighten up, not having heard him come in. You whirl around to face the man you have been infatuated with since your first meeting, the same man who fulfilled so many of your fantasies over the last few hours and is now standing in the doorway of his room with a flabbergasted look about his rugged face. The tears you had been doing a good job of suppressing so far immediately reappear, though you were adamant about not letting them fall… God forbid you be known on base as the girl who cries after sex. Instead, you give him a smile before turning away as you begin to wrangle your hair into a ponytail and reply,

"What do you mean, what am I doing, John?"

John can only splutter at your nonchalant response, his brain having completely short-circuited… Clearly, something is lost in translation.

You only shrug at his shock before continuing to gather your spread-out things into your small bag, trying your best to curb the small, pathetic whimper that is bound to leave your lips if you spend any more time in this man's room surrounded by so much of him. Instead, in the heavy silence of the room, you mull over the events of what got you in his bed in the first place…

You and John met 8 months ago when you were brought onto his military base as a licensed psychologist specialising in psychotherapy for young adults. Your main job was to work with the younger recruits, which included the ones trained by John's own men. John can still recall the first time he saw you as you came barreling in through his door, your angry voice bouncing off the walls of his office. You were a small thing, barely reaching the bottom of the man's chest, with long hair and high cheekbones. You were dressed in leggings that flared at the bottom and drove John insane, with a striped sweater on top, your soft curves visible through the knitted material.

You were the most tender thing he had seen on base, and despite all this softness, you squared off against the military captain, demanding to speak to his lieutenant and give the man a piece of your mind for traumatizing your recruits more than any battlefield could. John had never been rash a day in his life, and yet he had promised himself he would make everything and anything to do with you a personal matter.

You, on the other hand, had not perceived the butterflies the older Brit gave you until the next day when he had come knocking on your door. Dressed in a tight shirt and his camo pants, he was every girl's dream. It didn't help the butterflies in your stomach when he looked down at you with soft eyes while properly introducing himself. He then led you to the rec room of his task force where his lieutenant was sitting and brooding.

Thus began eight long months… Months of teasing glances exchanged across busy meeting rooms that made him grin and you blush. Soft touches shared either against the back of your hand when you stood side by side or across your cheek as he tucked your hair back. Eight long months of late-night talks where he would seek you out, wherever you were, with a drink of your choice in his hand and an endearing look about him as he let you jabber about how you miss baking and he told you about his parents. Eight months spent with your heart in your mouth as you watched him leave with his team, a desperate prayer for his safety on your lips as he held you against him the night before, limbs tangled together innocently yet intimately. Eight months of yearning that would only grow stronger every time he came back, his eyes finding you in a sea of military personnel and lighting you on fire each time.

And despite all this wanting, two months ago, the night before he was sent out for the longest mission yet, you overheard him with Ghost in the rec room. The box of cupcakes you smuggled into the base held tightly as the tall, rough captain unknowingly broke your heart.

"You say professional sir but everyon' sees the way you look at 'er... the little medic..." "Don't know what you're talkin' about Simon..." Price chuckles and you assume Ghost gives him a look as John continues, "Hell even if I wanted to and I am no' saying I do, I cant do anything about it can I?... she's a kid AND she's military personnel" "Then the late nights in your office are what... just meetings to go over paperwork yeah? Just a little overtime is that it?" "Come on gotta pass the time between deployments somehow" "Is that so then mind if I tell Soap–"

Thats all you had the stomach to hear, although had you stuck around you would have heard the captain confess his love. Instead you made your way to his office where you left the box of baked goods on his table and fled to your room. You spent the night muffling your tears as you came to terms with what you were to John versus what John is to you... The following morning, as you waved some of your recruits bye, your eyes met John's hurt ones, his gaze heavy with questions about where you were last night but you looked away.

Unbeknownst to John his worst worry was coming true when the two months of his deployment gave you enough time to misunderstand your importance to him. That while John was the sun to you, you were a small star in a distant galaxy that had no hope of being anything more than that... And yet you knew you would take anything he gave you, no matter how much it would hurt.

Which is why when he knocked on your room door in the middle of the night, his hair still wet from the shower he had barely managed to squeeze in, eyes tired, lost, and desperate you didn't hesitate. You didn't hesitate when his arms went around your waist drawing you into his chest, head pressed into the crook of your neck as you pressed him into you. You didn't resist or clue him on the turbulence in your head when he pulled away although barely. His hands moving from gripping the back of your shirt to your waist, grip tight as he hefted you into the air forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. Any shock on your part absorbed by his mouth as his lips found yours, your hands coming to hold his face. The kiss was desperate, it was messy. A clash of tongue and teeth as he quickly took control. You hadn't stopped to think or really breath, instead letting John fill the crevices of your mind as he carried you through the empty hallways of the barracks. Somewhere in the back of your head you wondered how no one spotted you but you were quickly distracted by his hand on your ass which kept you pressed up against him. The other on the back of your neck never letting you pulling away long enough and following your mouth as you did so. You never stopped to spill the pent up hurt that had festered unknown to the man as you whimpered into his mouth when his fingers found just the right spot, his muttered praises only getting you to your finish faster...

Your little trip down memory lane as you stuffed another shirt into your bag gave John time to get over his shock, taking a deep breath as he placed the washcloth and bottle on his nightstand. His surprise was now replaced by a desire to fix the situation.

Another aspect of being a captain was observing people, learning to read the little things about how people behaved, and now that the shock had worn off, that's what John set about doing. He watched the tension in your back gather as you stuffed your things into your bag… mementos left over from other nights that John treasured. Things that he would be pulling out of the bag as soon as he had things sorted. He watched with narrowed eyes as your face got redder, the desperation with which you were trying to hold yourself together scaring him…

Something was wrong, and he had been so consumed by his need to see you, to feel you, to know that you were alright, that he didn't stop to consider how things had been left off… To remember that you never came to his room the night before he left and that you didn't look at him at the drop zone. John realized then that whatever had upset you that night had two months to fester in your mind and that he couldn't let you leave in any capacity before everything was laid out.

He shuffled his way over to your figure as you rummaged for your ID card in your bag, needing it to get back to your room. His large hands slid into place on either side of your waist. You jolted at the sensation, registering that his hands were warm while straightening up. John didn't let your tensing stop him as he gently turned you around, his grip turning a little forceful when you tried to resist, but eventually you gave in. Your splotchy cheeks and bitten lips greeted him, and he couldn't help himself when he pressed his lips against your forehead, muttering into your skin as he did so,

"Sweetheart... whats going on?" "What do you mean John?" "I mean whats going on... whats got you packin' up your bag hmmm? Can't imagine you've got an important meetin' this time of the night have you? We also hadn't really finished had we?"

Johns doing his best to catch your eye as he talks but its futile when you keep your gaze steady on anything but his face.

"You wanted to go again?"

John balks at that response. Is that really why you think he wants you to stay? Is that really what you think of him?

"What? No no darlin' I mean you were up before I gotta chance to clean you up... I don't know about the men you've been with before sweet girl but a gentleman cleans up his lady... and of course a cuddle after..."

He pouts through the last part though you don't look up to see it. Your eyes remain trained on his muscular neck and John does his best to remain patient. He knows you, no matter how foreign your apprehension of him may feel right now. He knows you and he knows you're hurting which is why you're avoiding his eyes because the minute he gets you to see him you break,

"Oh... oh you don't have to John... I'm alright I can just go, I'm sure you're tired and want to rest and i don't want to keep you..."

John groans lowly in frustration at you not getting his point, his grip subconsciously tightening as if you would run off the minute he lets go and to his credit thats not a difficult situation to imagine,

"Fuckin' hell, okay sweetheart lets try this another way. Why do you think you have to go anywhere huh? I though' we could lay down and have a cuddle... even took the day off tomorrow to spen' it with you yeah? Want to know what you've been up to? Maybe step off the base and take you out for a proper meal?"

With each word out his mouth your confusion and hurt climb reaching a crescendo until your ears are ringing and you need to get away from this sweet talking brit before you crumble. However, Johns a stubborn man particularly when he sets his mind to something so no amount of squirming on your end makes him let you go as you begin to blabber each source of pain out in the open,

"Let me go, let me go, let me go John... You're so mean you know that? So so so mean... You come into my life all soft and sweet and gentle with me calling me pretty things that I've only imagined being called and you came in and made me care about you when I was so happy in my own bubble but still I started to care and then I find out its only for me to be something you pass time with nothing more and then you come back and I love you so much that ill take anything I can get from you even if its one night and then you have the audacity to stand there and be all sweet and caring when you and I both know that this will never be anything more and you know what maybe I am a child because this is too much–"

Your ranting is cut off by John whose own pulse has become frantic at all that you've laid out before him. You love him! Wait why do you think this is a one night thing? what do you means passing the time? One hands grips your upper arm, the other forcing your face up to look at him as your fists continue to push but to no avail,

"Whoa whoa okay look at me... look at me sweet girl... not letting you go until I ge' your eyes on me yeah? You can fight all you wan' but 'm not letting go until you get you damn eyes on me yeah? Come on... there you go good girl now what do you mean something to pass time with huh? What got that daft idea into that pretty head or that this would be a one night thing? Talk to me yeah "

John's barely finished before the words escape you in a breathless sob

“You, you stupid British man!”

Okay I was too excited to post it so here but if the reception to it is you know good ill post the second bit which is already written 👀

As always please reblog yes? yes okaieee byee

[starzgaze]

LOVESICK POTENTIAL: sung jinwoo

pairing: yandere!sjw/reader

UNFINISHED incoherent drabble brainrot on yandere!sjw hahaha... this is so unfinished but it fried my brain so badly all i can do is draw this out later because i cant write for long periods of time 😒 also english isn't my first language so this is really ERRR not good also no proofreading we die raw

tw: froth and nothing much

BEFORE THE DUNGEON EVENT:

This era of jinwoo was so cute he looked so squishy I'm biting my bedsheets. This time is the perfect moment where jinwoo gets his reasons on why he's a little cuckoo over [y.name].

Jinwoo always came home covered in bruises and maybe with a dent in his mental health. I mean not only you face life threatening monsters but you also face the words of your fellow hunters that consists of demeaning and degrading your whole existence does horriblewonders to Jinwoo's mental health! After when his mother came out of the picture by falling ill to the Eternal Slumber, Jinwoo had to face the expectations on becoming the breadwinner and help to keep his family a float.

Jinwoo doesn't have ambitions or anything during this time, not when he's too focused on trying to feed Jinah and pay the bills. He's a blank pitiful slate who's being driven by desperation and the promise he made to his mother to take care of his sister. He doesn't have anyone to turn to and he can't tell what he's experiencing to his sister because that'll make her worry for him! Jinwoo doesn't want his sister to flunk her studies because he made her worry for him... so he's basically alone.

Until you come in to the picture. [y.name] one of the few people who saw him as a person instead of some weak pitiful excuse of a hunter. It doesn't really matter how you meet Jinwoo, whether it be through connections, after a dungeon raid, or you randomly meeting him on the street, what matters is how you perceive him as a person and how you turn his miserable world upside down.

When [y.name] entered his life, it felt like a ball of light entered his dim world but not as if [y.name] was extremely energetic or what not. It was more like that [y.name] ignited something within Jinwoo. [y.name] would stop by and talk to Jinwoo, solidifying his self as a person. They would talk about ideals and goals and even encourage Jinwoo to maybe create his own when they found out that he didn't had any of his own. Jinwoo felt so warm inside whenever he'd spent time with [y.name]. He felt so inexplicably happy.

Jinwoo decided that [y.name] is his goal and the driving force of his ambitions.

Jinwoo limped a bit as he walked towards his small apartment he shared with his sister. It was what remained when his mother was sent to the hospital for falling ill. He groaned silently as he clenched his arm that was throbbing in pain. Even after being recently healed by Joohee, he could still feel the pain of his arm being battered to smithereens.

He wondered how many dungeon raids left till he'll perish by the hands of some low ranking monster.

The young man approached his door before suddenly being called out by a familiar voice. Jinwoo turned around and his bleak mood was changed into a more joyful one.

"Jinwoo! I caught 'ya this time!" [y.name] giggled as they skipped over to Jinwoo, a small mischievous smile plastered on their features. Jinwoo chuckled at [y.name]'s words as he admired [y.name]. He wondered what did he do in his life to meet [y.name]

Jinwoo hoped that the next dungeon raid isn't the one where he'll perish by the hands of a monster.

AFTER THE DUNGEON EVENT:

Jinwoo would probably avoid contacting [y.name]. After realizing he has a new opportunity to get stronger. His mental health before wasn't the best, he often thought he was pulling [y.name] back and has this mindset that he didn't deserve any of the kindness he was receiving from anyone especially from [y.name]

But now? he has now the chance to pay them all back by becoming stronger and become someone they can all rely on. So randomly... he'll just disappear from [y.name]'s life randomly. Jinwoo feels horrible but he isn't ready to face [y.name] again but he promises to himself that he'll meet his darling[y.name] soon.

Jinwoo would admire [y.name] from afar and sometimes do this just for the sake of answering to his personal question of: "I wonder how are they doing now?". Jinwoo is aware how much it hurts to [y.name] that he randomly disappeared from their life without a word especially how worried they were for him.

When Jinwoo finally deems he's prepared and worthy enough to face [y.name] he almost forgotten how different he looked when he last met [y.name]. Jinwoo almost scared [y.name] away when a devilishly handsome tall young man approached them with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Thankfully, [y.name] recognized the man from the slightly meek demeanor he showed.

Maybe after a few more meetups and catch ups, [y.name] would notice the many changes on Jinwoo's overall.. being? like aside from the fact he's now built like a sculpture made by the gods, he's more confident and charming?.. Jinwoo of course didn't miss the way how [y.name] would quiet down and stare at Jinwoo, taking note every little different detail on Jinwoo. This fed the hunter's ego and was proud how his hardwork paid off.

While [y.name] was admiring Jinwoo, they didn't notice how Jinwoo added a few of his shadows into [y.name]'s shadow. His love for [y.name] during their absence has doubled a thousand fold and the lengths he'd go for [y.name] is now boundless. Jinwoo's goal of achieving [y.name] might not be impossible anymore if he pushed himself a bit more just like what [y.name] says.

After meeting up with Jinwoo, [y.name] bid the hunter goodbye as they exited the cafe. [y.name] was pleasantly joyful that Jinwoo didn't forgotten about them and met up with them again after a few years but this still didn't made [y.name] pissed off over the fact he basically ghosted them for a few years too!

[y.name] walked down the cold street that was dimly lit up by the lamp posts around the area. They shivered a bit as they tried to warm up their hands by shoving one of them in their trenchcoat's pocket. [y.name] was on their phone when they suddenly bumped into a man by accident.

"ow.. oh? I'm sorry I didn't notice you there I'm really sorr—" [y.name] stammered out as they bowed their head in apology but then they felt a hand pushing them hard enough to be stumble back into a lamp pole, hitting their back pretty hard. The man reached out to [y.name]'s trenchcoat's pocket and pulling out their purse then he ran away with their purse in hand.

"agh! what the- my purse?!" [y.name] yelled as they rubbed their back to ease the throbbing pain as they tried to run after the robber.

Unfortunately for [y.name] he was fast on his feet and after for a while they lost him. [y.name] panted as they decided to not give up yet and looked around the now lightless and eerie street, it seems like the robber ran into a more abandoned side of the city.

[y.name] roamed around the street and would peak occasionally inside of alleyways hoping to catch the man but much to their dismay, they haven't seen any glimpses or hints. They mindlessly walked around, slowly losing hope until they heard a quick shriek then a hard thump from a nearby alleyway. A cold sweat went down their neck as they froze in place... Did something happen?

[y.name]'s eyes narrowed down on the alleyway where they assumed the sound originated from. They contemplated for a bit whether they should check it out before they decided to see what it was, clinging on the possibility it might be their purse. [y.name] slowly peeked their head in the alleyway and immediately gasped at the sight.

The man who stole their purse on floor, wriggling in pain before a dark figure. Froth was coming out of his mouth as dark inky shadows circled around his throat. His ankles looked twisted but in a very unnatural degree that it looked grotesque.[y.name]'s eyes shakily looked at the soon to be a corpse then up to the figure who was holding their purse. They blinked blankly at the figure.. [y.name] recognized him?!

"Jin..woo?..." [y.name] murmured underneath their breath as the figure looked up to see [y.name] who was pretty shaken up. The light finally hits the figure's and it revealed it was indeed Jinwoo... but he had this soulless glint in his eyes that suddenly brighten up at the sight of [y.name]

"ah. [y.name]" He called out as he walked past the struggling man and approached [y.name] who took a step back away from Jinwoo. This made his heart wrench.

"don't. don't move away. it's dangerous at this time, you shouldn't be alone" Jinwoo continued as he was finally in front of a terrified [y.name]

"you shouldve accepted my offer walking you home"

[lotuseye]

KINKTOBER 2024, I DIDN'T CHANGE MY NUMBER.

don't take it out on me, i'm out of sympathy for you. maybe you should leave, before i get too mean and take it out on you ( and your best friend too! )

suguru geto & satoru gojo. it was so, so difficult to put up with satoru sometimes- especially when every 9 of the 10 words that left his mouth was lies and excuses. in a particularly rough patch where there seems to be a whose-d*ck-is-bigger contest between the two stubborn idiots, she runs into geto in the bar they frequent and decides he deserves an earful for enabling gojo to be atrocious- but a torture can come in various forms, can't it?

word   count:   6902.

genre:   one-shot, kinktober product.

characters:   suguru geto & satoru gojo & reader.

notes:   hi so this is an insane idea that i could not help but write. satoru being a bad boyfriend. suguru being an even worse friend. pr*ise. degr*dation. kind of ch*king. car s*x. pet names. mean dom!gojo. submissive leaning p*ssydrunk switch!geto. switch!reader. dont even perceive me with this one i have no clue how we got here even.

“ you are such an… such an asshole.” 

“ and your learning curve is horizontal, sweetness- i don’t recall you leavin’ me.” 

the liar, the bitch and the master manipulator, she hated every single bone in satoru’s body. 

well, except the one he was burying her to the sheets with. 

the same old unfinished story of broken promises, it is a rinse and repeat now with the vibrant colors of their relationship is diluting in the waters of exhaustion and exasperation. oh it was limitless alright, the number of times he could have let her free fall from the tallest skyscraper of tokyo and be forgiven with how he catches her right before the fall, a honeyed coo or two in her ear. no language on the face of earth is adequate when it comes to explaining the way satoru exists on the axis of the world he’s tilted, but the words detached & displaced are the first ones that come to mind. she is simply one of the many things bound to be lost in the infinity between him and the space he occupies, a hard-swallowed pill that she couldn’t still digest even when he had his veined hands splayed on the curve of her hips, his steel of a bicep pressing against her throat as the bed rhythmically creaked beneath them. 

it felt too good, and he knew it- he knew he had her when she left that airy sigh into the pillow she had been drooling in with the spot he found without effort, he knew he had her when she preened underneath him with her shoulderblades against his ribs. it’s lazy, lazier than satoru usually indulges in, his hips maintaining an angle that let him bully the spongy g-spot tucked between the snug walls with such fervor that he has her reeling with each languid thrust. his damp locks are tickling the nape of her neck, the beads of sweat collecting at the conjunction of their limbs, wetting the already messed sheets. she can hear each grunt, each breath of his, feel it vibrate in her chest. the same old tale, he does something rancid enough to piss her off and then instead of an apology he fucks her until she forgot what she was mad about in the first place, but like any trick, it has a point where the audience tires of the repetitive schemes. 

“my baby’s pissed at me, huh? would ya’ look at that. ” he coos, his mouth pressed against the junction of her jugular and her neck, his mouth wet. she has no choice but to listen, no choice but to take it- he doesn’t leave anywhere for her to escape, having her stuck beneath the mattress and his heavy figure, with her throat sitting tight and cozy in the crook of the arm he has wrapped around her neck like a shackle. her maroon nails are digging into his sinewy forearm until crescent moons shine with a painful pink color and it is not only a rightful response to the merciless pounding, but also a subconscious punishment, a silent outlet of her anger.

satoru doesn’t like that. 

the position shifts, the man atop her whining rather dramatically before his weight lifts off of her. “ naughty girl, so ungrateful.” he chastises breathlessly, and just when she thinks she’s free of the torment she can’t stop cumming from, he yanks her up by the fat of her hips, propping her up on her knees but her attempts to rise on her hands is strictly prohibited, satoru lets out a “ tch tch,” as he catches both her wrists in one large palm to cross them on the small of her back, right in the middle of the twin dimples before his empty hand grasps the nape of her neck and push her face into the sage green, satin pillowcase she had been moaning into few moments ago, burying himself to the hilt in one go simultaneously. “ this is why we can’t have nice things,” he clicks his tongue, and she can almost see the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, all educated deductions from the way he speaks through his gritted teeth. complain he might, but he cannot deny that he lives for the thrill of her, lives for the thrill of having her in his bed, the taste of cherry lipgloss stuck in the back of his throat and her laughter his favorite siren song. “ because you don’t appreciate ‘em, baby.” 

“ don’t even start-” she groans, and his hips snap harsher the next time as a silent yet effective method of shutting her up, liking her pliant and obedient as always. “ sorry, what was that?” he leans over, asking with a faux undertone of surprise in his tone. “ can’t hear you over the sound of her, babe,” he pulls out temporarily, just to bring his palm down for a hard smack on her swollen cunt, only pleased when he hears her cry out and shudder to grasp the base of his painfully hard cock and nudge it right back inside her to resume. “ wanna’ repeat that f’ me?” 

but she can’t, her vision already having painted white as she stiffens and seizes with a whimper choked on her throat, clenching around satoru impossibly as her climax pulls her right under the crashing wave, a steady ringing in her ear that deafens her briefly- she can call him every single name under the sun and he’d deserve each one of them, but she cannot deny that the bastard has a way of pushing her to the brink of feelings & sensations she didn’t know was possible. it’s what makes it all so alluring, it’s what makes her heart swell with the ease of familiar affection when he follows her almost immediately, his hips slapping against the back of her thighs faster as he falters, the feeling of wet ropes fill her to the brim a one that makes her toes curl, a nice warmth spreading through her system. 

“ why are you adamantly trying to get me to leave you?” she asks, breathless, rolling to her back- her knees hurt, and she’s definitely pulled a muscle in her neck with how strained it feels. the heel of her palm presses against the junction of her neck and shoulder, rubbing in idle motions to alleviate it a bit. she watches him collapse next to her, just as breathless, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips, snowy lashes fluttering with exhaustion, gaze heavy lidded. “ didn’t i tire you enough? ” he mutters but she doesn’t need to know him as well as she does to hear the whiny undertone. he blindly reaches through the sheets to find her warmth next to him, yank her to his chest without paying any mind to the way she yelps, and nuzzle his face against her spine. “ you talk too much, go to sleep.”

it had been a long shot, but at least she wouldn’t say that she didn’t try. “ get off of me,” she sighs, exasperated more than anything as she pushes satoru’s heavy arm to slide further away in the sheets. still drowsy & a bit lightheaded but still not relaxed or prideless enough to fall asleep next to him. “ ‘m gonna’ go take a shower.” 

oh, that gets his attention. his head slightly lifting from the sheets, he watches her go, wearing nothing but his shirt. “ can i come?”

the only response he gets is the door that slams shut on his face.

****

she hadn’t expected suguru to be home. by the time she takes a stroll to the kitchen with her damp hair tucked in a soft towel, having switched back to her own clothes to deprive satoru of the pleasure of seeing her in his own clothes, adorned in a pair of rust nike shorts and a hot pink crop top. she finds suguru by the stove, cooking something that smells like thyme with his headphones on. she would have snuck her head in to get a good sniff of the pot, but since sneaking up on someone who is handling a hot pan while wearing headphones is never a good idea, she makes her way to the fridge as intended. he notices her by the shadow that falls on the counter, pulling the headphones down to his neck. “ hey there,” he greets, simple as he spares her a single glance. he doesn’t need to look at her twice to imagine what went down, sighing before turning to his meal.

“ i can feel you judging me,” she says as she pulls the bottle of milk out before closing it shut with a sway of her hips. suguru snorts. “ i am.” 

ever the honest.

“ you don’t get to,” she comments simply as she occupies the same counter he’s cooking in. their shared apartment having memorized by now, she pushes on the side of his head slowly to avoid him hitting his forehead on the cabinet she pulls open ( thinking about it, maybe she should have let it hit him ) to get the coffee she had been desperately craving. she releases him a moment later, putting the coffee jar on the counter. like the calm before the storm. “ you’re the one who told me he was home when he was out with the bitches, if my memory isn’t failing me.” she states thoughtfully as she licks the spoon she delved into the coffee jar earlier. “ and you were the one who told me not to worry when i, in fact, should have been worrying.” 

suguru sighs, clearly discontent to be in the conversation but too bad- he wasn’t discontent when he was lying straight to her face. her gaze is keener than a knife when she turns it on him, the smile that curls on the corners of her mouth is cold enough to look cruel. “ you’re a disappointing friend, suguru.” she comments, her tone sing-song-y enough to sound eerie. too serious and unserious at the same time, like his mistake was spilling her favorite coffee on the floor or forgetting to pick up groceries on his way home. “ and you’re not one bit innocent.” 

“ don’t get me involved in your shit,” he exhales, keeping his gaze on the pan- chicken pesto & rice, hm. delicious. what a pity she felt too nauseous to take a bite. “ it’s not my responsibility to keep your deranged man in check, satoru is the way he is and you know it.” he places a large palm on top of her head but not ruffling her hair, instead bending over a bit unnecessarily to get down on eye level with her, his voice reeking of condescension. “ aren’t we a little too old to be blaming others for our bad life decisions, missy? ” she smiles at him, as sweet as a plum. “ fuck you, suguru.” 

he grins. “ oh, i’d bet you wish. ” 

***

it has been two months without satoru, two months with letting his calls go to voice mail or turning the flowers away from her doorstep. he’s using every trick in the book, from the gifts to the soft epilogues he is murmuring into the mic in the late hours of the night, hoarse and truthful but satoru’s truth as subjective as it can be- his emotions shift with the weather, and so does his intentions. his detachment applies to his ability to hold onto his promises, and the last couple of years he had not learned from his mistakes or her pleading, and she doesn’t necessarily deem herself the teacher he loves being. it’s not in her nature to be coddling a man that is not getting the message, at least not without making him regret every bit of a wrong he’s done her. 

early 2010s are playing in the club that smells like pot & cigarettes & sweat, the fog of everything & anything that’s been smoked blurring in her gaze and dimming the moving purple & pink of the lights, coating the glitter on her cheeks prettiest of technicolors. four martinis in, she’s feeling the buzz in the marrow of her bones, not drunk enough to be stumbling on her feet but drunk enough to not try to see satoru’s white head in the packed crowd. the soles of her butterfly shoes are hitting the back of her ankles, and the polyester of her cheap dress is sticking to her damp skin in ways uncomfortable enough to assure her she definitely is getting a rash the next day. still, it is not nearly as bad as the urge to check her phone every twenty minutes to see if he’s texted. he probably has, and not that she’d text him back, but still it was a reassurance of its own to know that she occupied his thoughts. it was hard, for someone like satoru, to stay focused without drifting away. she’s even surprised he seems to have object permanence altogether. 

just when her tired feet are dragging her to the bar for a refill of her empty martini glass, a similar figure draws her attention. the oversized black sweater that’s ridiculously loose on his shoulder, the fresh wolfcut, the black circle earrings and the cargo pants that also sit nonchalant on his waist and that goddamn manspread. he’s been staring at her. 

if he was here…

“ the pot and its lid, how lovely.” her smile is forced when she leans over him, to the bar, yelling inaudibly over a loud remix of lady gaga for a refill, trying to contain her suddenly restless heart in her ribs, over the prospect of satoru popping out of somewhere to tap her on the shoulder with his disgustingly saccharine smile, sticking a tongue out through his perfect teeth. her knees feel weak and the alcohol is not the only culprit. suguru chuckles, taking another sip of his own drink, neat whiskey as usual. “ he’s not here.” 

thank fucking god. she breathes, and he takes the sight in, nursing his whiskey, slowly twirling the glass with leisure movements of his wrist. “ you want me to call him?” he asks, mocking, teasing. she doesn’t give him the reaction he probably had been pulling and poking around for, instead waiting patiently with her elbows on the counter, a little bent, her midsection resting on suguru’s knee. she’s too occupied in her thoughts to notice it, but he’s not. though, it remains a silent acknowledgement. “ no,” she tells him, mouthing a thank you to the bartender before she turns to suguru eventually, her blue eyeliner having smudged around the corner of her eyes. he offers a grin. “ why, you here with someone? ” he shakes his head at the possibility of that being true, accompanied by a disapproving sound. “ don’t let him know, princess- he can dish it out but he can’t take it. such is the man, your boyfriend. ” the cynical undertone is laughable, so she does- it is swallowed by the slender glass in her hands. “ look at the one talking,” she gestures, amused. suguru shrugs, his head tipping back with the big sip to down the rest of his whiskey, adam’s apple bobbing and the chain that shines distracts her, gleaming under the now red hues. “ jus’ saying,” he shrugs. “ i know him. and you know him. don’t understand why you’re so obsessive over things you know that ain’t good for ya’.” 

well, that had been a little too real than what she expected. she blinks, her expression shifting into one of confusion and of restlessness- a question she cannot answer truly, as she herself is yet to discover the big revelation. instead, her limbs retract, the ghost of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “ careful, suguru.” she muses, words laced with honey but not without the sting. “ you don’t know me like that. you don’t know me at all, actually. ” how would he, when all he has seen of her was her reflection created in satoru’s image? he hasn’t known her the way satoru or even shoko did. he knew her as the girl satoru couldn’t treat right a day in his life yet the girl he simply was too entranced to move on from. 

his expression remains untouched, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth catches her eye. “ you’re here for him,” he says, without an attempt to correct her. “ you’re wearing that skimpy little dress for him. you’re drinking, laughing, dancing- for him. and he’s not even here.” it feels like a dare, the way his shoulders move, how he leans back. “ what a shame.” her ears are burning, the root of her hair red, and the flush on her cheeks is reeking of shame. she feels exposed, at the way suguru pecks at her open wounds without a care- but she asked for it, didn’t she? she stills, then leans, until both of her hands press against the cold edge of the marble counter, caging suguru in. she can smell the whiskey on his breath, can smell the cologne he wears, earthy and woody, lacking the sharp scents satoru uses. he leans back in his stool, carefully curated expression watching every single movement of hers to see what she’s after, decipher the secret message except there is no secret message- she’s angry, and she feels like a lesson has been due by yesterday. 

“ and you’re here for me,” she says eventually, cracking into an eerie smile with the dawning of the revelation. “ oh, suguru, you sneaky bastard,” she can’t help the airy chuckle that escapes her, her eyes having widened with something she’s found in the poker face he had been wearing. he is good at this but so is she. “ you’ve almost had me, gotta’ give it to ya’.” she coos, mingled with mockery in the worst way possible as her head cranes aside, withdrawing to take a good look at him. “ who knew?”

he laughs, the tormenter that he is, and it’s pretty. has it always been this pretty, or is the newfound depth to dabble in make her see him in a light she hasn’t before? “ please,” he snorts, shaking his head, asking the bartender for a refill and tossing his empty glass on the counter. he makes no moves to get out of her symbolic cage, pretty content to be sitting where he is, a knowing look painting him more annoying than he already is- but how could he not be, with the pretty girl lodged between his knees? satoru’s girl, at that. or not. that part was always confusing, even for them. “ i’m flattered, but you’re… not my type.” he finds the words he had been looking for eventually, clicking his tongue with satisfaction. “ i don’t like ‘em as whiny and loudmouthed as you.” she can’t tell if he’s joking or not, can’t tell why the room went up a hundred degrees all of a sudden. “ do me a favor and pick up the next time he calls, yeah?” he murmurs, digging around for something she assumes to be a cigarette, no longer focused on her. “ he’s been nagging like a bitch all day, ‘m tired of it. we both know you’re not going anywhere.” 

she didn’t think it was possible to despise someone as much as she did satoru, but suguru is full of surprises. even if he is not able to find that one particular vein satoru adores pressing with the soles of his pretty, expensive shoes, he finds a completely different one- condescension dripping off his mouth, that lazy stare boiling the blood in her veins. he deems her not worthy of him, whiny and loudmouthed. 

she kisses him just for that. 

it is short, it is confused- it is filled with the urge to prove something, unsure to herself or to him. he tastes like whiskey & mint and it burns the back of her throat, and for a brief moment, he parts his lips, to which she takes as an invitation to push her tongue in and lick at the roof of his mouth as her hands grasp the collar of his hoodie. 

it is short because suguru breaks it, his hands on her elbows, eyes widened and the cherry hue of her lipgloss smudged on his lower lip with the saliva that it shines with. “ ‘m not the revenge you want,” he warns, perhaps the most serious thing he’s said to her that night- but she lacks the fucks to give. “ shut the fuck up,” she says in return instead, before pushing him incessantly to return to the bittersweet taste she had been craving before it even died on her tongue. this time, suguru doesn’t reel back or stop. this time, his tentative hands slide around the small of her exposed back, pulling her flush against him as his teeth sinks into her plush lip. it’s dizzying, how he kisses the breath out of her lungs, and how it sets a dozen fireworks in her ribs. 

“ oh, fuck, i can’t- he’ll kill me,”  the sentiment returns, and she doesn’t remember hearing him so desperate in her life- doesn’t remember hearing him so out of breath and pleading, a begging more to himself than her as he rests his forehead on her temple and draws in heavy breaths like it might make him want her less. it doesn’t. satoru doesn’t plead the way he does, doesn’t look at her with the same pathetic insurmountable need in his eyes. maybe it’s what makes her bold enough to push her thigh between his knees, watching the way his jaw falls slack, slender fingers tightening on her hips as if he can’t decide if he wants to stop her or not. “ you’ve been lying to me for him long enough,” she murmurs, hot and breathless into his mouth, watching every single way his face contorts with shame and pleasure like a hawk through heavy lidded eyes. “ time to lie for me, sugu.” 

it’s how they end up in the back of her car- with her perched atop suguru’s large thighs, moaning into each other’s mouths, raven locks bunched in her incessant palm and his hands splayed out on her thighs. it’s sloppier than anything, and all she can think about is how utterly beautiful he is, with his heavy breathing he is pointless trying to regulate and the way he keeps clutching at her, ridden with guilt & lust at the same time. she doesn’t carry the same concern as he does, doesn’t care about satoru- not in the way she should, at least. it was time he stopped underestimating her. it was time he stopped believing her lack of retaliation on his bullshit was because she thought he could be a better person than he was, not because she was weak enough to stay. she only realizes her mistake now, how wrong it was of her to try to handle things the way adults did- but forfeiting grudges, by trying to forgive and communicate. he mistook her kindness. he thought her sweet, thought her all bark no bite.

but looks could be deceiving.

no clothes are coming undone, but suguru is half unraveled underneath her thighs. “ look at you,” she says in pure admiration, catching his chin between the knuckle of her index finger and her thumb, tilting his head to her liking- which is straight at her, having no choice but to see the diabolical grin that turns her into something he has never put his hands on before. something he wouldn’t know what to do with, if he had. “ whiny and loudmouthed, you said?” she quotes, and a single shift of her hips is enough to drown out any response he might have, to which he responds with a grunt of restraint and a kiss harsher than loving. “ shut up,” he kisses it on her teeth, and she has no objections to that. his presence is overwhelming. it’s unusual, the attachment that comes along- suguru is intense in a way she cannot define to be good or bad. so explore she does, tilting the corner of his jaw with a stubborn push from her nose, teeth grazing at his jugular. she can feel the way his breath hitches, feel the way he twitches. he attempts to take control of the situation by manhandling her on his lap, squeezing the fat of her hips in his palms with a grunt as he forces her into movement. the sticky material of her long drenched panties stick to her, the zipper of his pants getting caught at her clit and making her jolt with each drag. it gives him a momentary release from her evil clutches, but it is questionable how it can be considered relief when he has that drunk look on his face, jaw setting with a low grunt. “ such a fucking slut,” he whispers it against the column of her throat, freeing one hand to resume the movement by lazy & languid rolls of his hips, having her gasp on top of him, boneless on his lap. “ grinding on me because your boyfriend just can’t act right, huh? is this how you get back on him? ” 

she nods, even if she doesn’t want to, too caught up in the way he pseudo-fucks her, unhurried and devoid of any rush- like they had hours to spend in the back of her car. his pants might be deceiving her, but even the outline of him pressing against her is enough to have her mouth watering for the real deal, satoru half forgotten in suguru’s warm lap. his fingertips trail beneath the hem of her blue skirt, and they dance around the edge of her panties without ever getting to business. she squirms, desperate for a taste of something she can’t go back from, but his hold is a one of steel- “ if you want something, you’re gonna have to say it,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing hers without properly kissing her, each thrust making her jolt on his knees. she melts halfway, face contorted in pressure. “ are you this much of a headache for satoru too, or is it special f’ me?” 

that does it, her lower lip trembling as she rests against his chest, hips lazily grinding back into his to keep up with the delicious rhythm that has her seeing stars before anything. the fingers that now ghost over the damp spot of her underwear is her undoing. “ performance anxiety, sugu baby?” she lets a breathless, airy chuckle, accompanied by a sweet aw she manages to utter. “ don’t worry, i’ll guide yo-ohhhh shit,” he tucks her words back into her mouth without batting an eye, he’s good like that, of course he is. there is nothing to be questioned in his abilities to touch a girl, it seems- he doesn’t struggle as he slips underneath the wet fabric and plunges two fingers deep inside her, the sudden intrusion sending an electric jolt down her spine. for a moment, it becomes so, so hard to speak, toes curling in the pretty heels satoru has gotten them as an apology gift for one of his many fuckups. she doesn’t think suguru would like to know that. 

“ sorry, you were sayin’ somethin’?” he hums, a pleased, toothy smile tugging his mouth upwards as he takes in the sight of her squirming on his lap to handle the pressure. he brings an end to those wiggly hips by pressing the forearm that has been on her thigh even harder to pin her nice & tight. “ uh uh, don’t run away from me, now, you wanted this, remember? ” he tuts, still keeping his slow grind her swollen bud as his fingers pump leisurely in & out. “ suguru,” she shudders, gripping the car seat behind him just to be able to have some sort of anchor but even that is failing her. suguru is an asshole of his own kind, so instead of easing up on her, he tugs on the lace ribbons of her dress with his teeth, like an animal, just so he can nuzzle his nose between the valley of her breasts. he’s not as chatty as satoru, it turns out. not as hurried either- it’s not the same rush, not the same avid sense of detachment. this is not turning out the way she expected it to, not the mindless fuck she had been going after just so she could see the look on satoru’s face when she told him she fucked his best friend. 

“ mhm, i see what’s got him so hooked alright,” he reveals to himself, half mesmerized and half amused, an afterthought as he drags his tongue on the velvety edge of her dress, dipping it underneath. “ i’d be tweaking too, if i fumbled this.” the this he is talking about is not her sparkling personality, she assumes, but it has her chuckling breathlessly anyway. it’s one thing to be wanted by satoru who wants everything he can get his hands on all the time, but it is another to be wanted by suguru who seems to want nothing at all. well, except the girl he lied to the face of repeatedly. just for that she thinks of leaving him blue-balled, but all thoughts flee her mind once his teeth catches her hardened nipple and his fingers crook in that delicious way, pulsating around his fingers as the tight coil in her guts snap. 

she doesn’t realize the buildup, nearly panicking with how sudden it all crashes into her- eyes widening impossibly as she clutches onto suguru desperately as the man holds her still. “ keep cumming, keep cumming, good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts with his nose pressing hard against the column of her throat, effortlessly handling the mess of limbs on his knees that is stiffening & seizing with the pressure it takes her to release it all. she thinks she’s seeing sounds, she thinks she’s hearing colors- by the time she comes back down to earth, she has half a mind on her to breathe, and only through the demanding of him who is now holding her chin in his palm: “ don’t pass out on me now, keep breathin’, keep breathin’.” 

it feels cold, when his fingers finally vacate their cozy home, but they are soon to find another- he uses the hand on her chin to pull her jaw a bit down, fingertips squishing into her cheeks to make her open up so he can stuff her mouth with the very same fingers with a dazed look in his eyes. “ polite girls clean up after themselves,” he murmurs. the tangy taste melts on her tongue, sucking on suguru’s fingers as he slowly rocks them a bit, imitating the lewd imagery of her sucking his cock. it would be a pretty sight, she thinks. to see him with his head tipped back, to rob him stark naked of any control he might have, to own him by the balls, as they say. but suguru doesn’t seem interested in the idea, as he just sighs, contently watching her suck on his fingers. she’s always thought he had pretty eyes, violet hues that have been shining with brilliance from the day she’s met him. “ i can’t be doing everything around here, can i?” the way he asks is so fucking condescending, she can’t help the way her ears burn as he pushes his hips into hers to remind her of the very painful hard on that’s been straining against her thigh now. “ ‘m not satoru, sweetheart- i don’t give out free dick. if you want it, you earn it. ” the now empty hand comes harsh against the plush fat of her ass, making her let out a muffled cry through his fingers. “ ride me like you mean it. ” 

he doesn’t have to tell her twice. 

the unbuckling of his belt and the freeing of his hard on is unceremonious, but the thrill of it is so, so heavy in her blood she thinks she’d ride this high for a good year, if she was lucky. he’s not as long as satoru, but the girth of him makes her gulp with the unsavory calculation- it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s going to be a hell of a stretch. suguru, who seems to have noticed her hesitation, grins a little. “ aw, afraid of dick, now?” he mocks, and she hates how much she really likes the genuine laugh he lets out, even when he’s bullying her. “ it doesn’t bite. go on, now. ” she wraps a hand around the base of it, her knuckles brushing against the dark happy trail as she indulges herself in a leisure stroke, watching his eyes roll back with an animalistic pleasure. all she knows is that she wants to see more of it, so when her thumb reaches the angry & leaking tip, she makes sure to apply all the pressure she can manage. “ i think the dick is afraid of me, baby. ” she teases, teeth grazing the corner of his jaw. “ you’ve been packing this the whole time? damn, maybe i got the wrong bestie.” 

suguru can’t manage a response with the way he looks like he’s on cloud nine beneath her, and she finds it sweet, the way he leans into her touch, the way he’s lost in it. having decided that she doesn’t want pleasure if it doesn’t involve hers, she aligns him with her slick entrance, letting the fat tip nudge against her folds with a shaky breath, and tilting her hips to let him sink into her without further teasing. 

the moan they let out when he’s finally inside her is in unison, but his is much whinier than hers and she finds that she revels in the sound- she’d never think him to be whiny in bed, never think him the one to release control. but here he is, holding onto her hips in the backseat of a honda civic, the living and breathing embodiment of pussy whipped. “ holy fuck,” he gasps out, his adam’s apple bobbing as his head tips back to the headrest. “ holy fuck.” 

“ you’re gonna eat your fucking words, suguru,” she confesses in his ear, in the most saccharine voice imaginable as her thighs part to dig her knees on the leather seats so she can ride him to her heart’s content, moaning every single time he bottoms out, every single time his head kisses her cervix, filling her up so nicely. all she can think about is how he deemed her unworthy of him in the bar an hour ago. “ oh, no words? the whiny girl’s pussy got your tongue, baby?” she latches onto his throat just so she can leave a pink mark of hers, just for him to see in the mirror, just for him to have to sit down in satoru and try to explain where that came from. what a scene it would be, how she would have given a kidney and a lung to see it. suguru, to the proof of her point, is too focused on not busting on the spot all her teasing is returned by radio silence except for grunts and whines. he looks so drunk, she wants to kiss him just for that, but she bites on the inside of her cheek instead, wanting him to know what real desperation was. his hands are so, so tight on her waist, and his mumbles are her favorite song. 

well, except the ringtone that disturbs the perfect rhythm she has found, an unexpected caller. 

it is coming from suguru’s pocket, to which she has no problem digging around to find. “ i’ve got you, sweetness, keep moaning like that,” she kisses his forehead just to drive her mockery home, before her eyes lock on the screen. 

gojo. 

if it wasn’t lucky. 

“ no, no, give me that back-” suguru attempts to get his hands on his phone but she is already answering before he can manage, and the first thing they hear is satoru’s voice, who never lets anybody speak first if he’s the caller: “ dude, i’ve been calling you all fucking night, ” he complains. “ where the hell have you been?” 

suguru is looking at her with pleading eyes, but seeing how that desperation erodes with a single roll of her hips is so satisfactory there is no shame in her voice as she responds: “ he’s busy, satoru babes,” she laughs, giddy. and it takes a hot minute for the white haired walking ego on the other end of the line to register her voice. “ what?... how?... what the fuck?” by now there is no fucking way he’s not hearing the sweet moans suguru is releasing, too pussy-whipped to realize the situation she put them in, too pussy-whipped to stop. “ say hi, sugu.” she plays an evil more diabolical card, shoving the mic right in the corner of suguru’s mouth, who is now scrambling for the last bits of his late composure. “ sato-oh, fuck, satoru, i can’t- i couldn’t- oh my fucking god, ‘ts so tight, ” unable to string a form of coherent sentences, she thinks she could cum from just how mouth-watering the view is. 

“ suguru, are you fucking my girl right now?” satoru is asking with a bamboozlement she has never heard in his voice before but before he can get an answer she hangs up, tossing the phone somewhere in the messy seats- not everything is about satoru, and leaving him hanging is a bigger punishment than letting him stay on the phone for the whole thing. there was no knowing with the bastard- it wouldn’t be a punishment if he turned out to be into it, after all. torture or not, suguru is hers for the moment, and there is a prized possession in such belonging, she honors it with wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking into him like there is no tomorrow. “ you feel so good,” she breaths into his ear, honest and genuine. “ you feel so fucking good, suguru. you’re so beautiful, look at you,” she slides his chin into her palm, gaze boring into his heavenly visage with an adoring look, even when he looks so utterly fucked out. “ who’s passing out on who now, hm? ” 

maybe he would have panicked at the aspect of being caught red handed, maybe he would have stopped or would have actually do something about it when satoru calls again immediately after- but all he does is to shift deeper in the seat, spread his legs wider and start fucking up into her in a rhythm so unforgiving they go back to square one, all power evades her, being reduced to a ragdoll in his arms as he hooks his arms beneath her thighs and spreads her all the way open. “ you got wetter when he heard this,” he tugs on her earlobe, hoarse and teetering on the edge of his own pleasure. “ you got tighter when you picked up, such a fucking whore,” he grunts, and she is reeling, nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to take the pounding without screaming. “ little slut is gonna cum from being caught,” he mocks, breathless. “ go ahead and fucking cum.” he is so right there is no fighting it- he commands with that growl and she is falling apart before she can stop it, and suguru is right behind her. 

it takes minutes, for both of them to come down from their highs, as suguru keeps spilling into her with no end and she keeps milking him for all he’s worth, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. knowing that satoru had stopped calling somewhere right before they came, it truly might have, as there was no knowing what he would be doing right now. his silence was scarier than his reactions, but at the moment she really can’t bring herself to care. “  you doin’ okay?” he asks, making her jolt on his thigh just to get a reaction out of her, brushing her damp strands away from her face, revealing her hazy gaze and unfocused eyes. “ cockdrunk,” he grins. “ look at yourself, poor little thing.” her limbs still work enough for her to give him a slap on the bicep along a roll of her eyes. “ says the man who moaned like a bitch to the boyfriend of the girl he’s fucking. who knew you were such a whore, suguru?” her tongue darts out to lick her dry lips. “ you’re full of surprises.” 

“ and you’re so full of unnecessary words,” he sighs, both to how she immediately became annoying again and how it feels when she finally lets him slide out of her, remaining seated on his thigh. none of them make an attempt to leave this cozy nest they have been indulging in for a good hour or two now. “ at this point i just think you are incapable of going fifteen minutes without hearing your own voice.” she snorts with the response, shifting off his lap to collapse right next to him, both of them breathing heavy in silence for a moment. “ what now?” he asks after a few minutes, looking over at her with those heaven of violet eyes. 

she offers him the most charming, dazzling smile of hers. “ what happens is that you tell satoru i said hi,” she says. “ and get out of my car, suguru. i’m done with both your asses.” 

© written by lotuseye. do not translate or copy my work.

[lisired]

little do you know

pairing: taeyong x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, bffs to fwb to lovers, cheating, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!)

summary: After three years away from Miami, Taeyong is finally ready to return to the city. He left a world behind here, but most importantly, he left you. And being invited on a friendly get-together trip to a beach resort gives him a little too much time to resume unfinished business between you both.

word count: 14.9k

a/n: loosely inspired by don’t make it harder on me by chloe x halle. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Your heart beat for Jung Jaehyun. 

That was what you told yourself, over and over again. You wanted to convince yourself that at some point, you would believe it. After all, how could you not? He was everything any woman could have dreamed of in a man. Handsome, sensual, humorous and vulnerable. 

But he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Darn Taeyong. He left you. For good reason, but that was no excuse for you to linger around. Especially not when you were in a commited relationship with his friend. 

The moment you made it to your room after checking into the seaside resort, you immediately flopped onto the bed. A very large chunk of you wanted to draw away and hide, but you knew better. And an even larger chunk of you wanted to see Taeyong. 

Three years. That was how long you’d waited. If you were being honest, your heart couldn’t take anymore. You missed your best friend. 

Jaehyun came out of the bathroom, half-naked, one might add, and had a good laugh at the sight of you sulking on the bed. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You made a noise of protest and wrapped your arms around one of the pillows tightly. You had little to no problem sharing a bed with Jaehyun. As expected, given you were a couple, though you slept in your own more often than not. 

Even though you had been together for nearly three years, Jaehyun hadn’t moved in with you or vice versa. It would seem that you and Jaehyun were very compatible. For one, both of you made your preference to take things slow very clear. Neither of you had been in a rush to move in with each other. Regardless, you’d slept in the same bed before, because you were comfortable. But you knew you weren’t ready for the next step, and Jaehyun never pushed you, because frankly, neither was he. 

Deep in your heart, you knew Jaehyun was more like a good friend to you than a lover. 

You heaved out a breath. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. Everyone will be expecting you. This is one of those rare moments where everyone will be together in one place. Do you know how hard it is to get Ten to stop moving?” Jaehyun joked, moving over to the bed to separate you from the pillow, much to your discontent. 

But you didn’t argue, because he was right and you knew it. You gave a wistful smile. Aging came with a vicious price, and for your friends, time was the luxury you couldn’t afford. Each of you had lives of your own, but no matter where you were, your friendship still stood strong. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, rolling out of bed and fishing through your suitcase. It contained a week’s worth of clothes - including swimsuits. 

Jaehyun snickered and slithered back into the bathroom to give you some privacy. In spite of the many, many times you'd seen each other naked. 

You threw on a bikini and styled yourself a little. Definitely not to impress anyone. Then, you heaved a sigh and let Jaehyun know that you were ready. Maybe even he could tell that you were far from. 

The entire elevator ride downstairs, you could feel your heart pound faster as you watched the numbers drop, indicating what floor you were on. It dinged and opened once you arrived at your destination, and Jaehyun held your hand in his, leading you outside. 

The sweet gesture made it a little easier to breathe, but you were still uneasy. What the hell were you even so scared of? It wasn’t like Taeyong had completely ghosted the hell out of you. The distance made it harder to keep in contact, but he made every effort to talk to you. You were still best friends and no amount of miles between you would change that. 

You just couldn’t get him out of your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter how much time had passed, you couldn’t forget the way it felt to be by his side, and you longed to feel that way again. 

No, you hissed to yourself. Taeyong is just your friend. Jaehyun is your boyfriend. You love him. 

And you truly did. But not the way you loved Taeyong. A love like that was irreplicable. 

The moon was on display in the evening sky, bright and full. It mirrored in the water. Strings of neon lights irradiated the beach for miles. There was a large pool squarely between the ocean and the resort and an array of chairs stretched across the sand underneath your feet. 

You were walking towards the group of people surrounding a bonfire at the beach, until you heard someone scream from behind you, “Boo!” 

Jaehyun jumped, your hand still in his, but you screamed as if you wanted your cries to be heard from the opposite end of the ocean. Behind you, the culprit was no other than Rosé. 

Rosé pointed her finger and laughed. “Works like a charm every time.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled her in for a hug. “What happened to saying ‘hi,’ or ‘hello,’” you complained, patting her back. 

She pouted. “I’m sorry, guys.” Then, released you promptly once she’d had her fill to give Jaehyun a turn. 

“What are your plans for the week?” Jaehyun asked, smiling sheepishly.

“Just checking in with my friends and family. As you would expect,” Rosé replied in her familiar aussie accent. Then, she turned to you. “Speaking of which, Taeyong is looking for you.”

You blinked. “Really?”

“Absolutely. He’s over there, all sullen and morose. You should go talk to him.”

Turning to take a peek, you spotted Taeyong by his lonesome at the water. He stood there, simply staring into the distance. Very much sullen and morose. 

Because of me. You bade the thought away with a tiny shake of your head. 

“Will you be okay?” you asked, shifting your glance to Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun didn’t tie you down. “Go. He’s your best friend and it’s been three years. Besides, Rosé and I have a lot to catch up on anyways.”

Rosé gave you an encouraging nod. You gave her one final hug and your boyfriend a brief kiss to cheek before they sent you off. And you blew out a heavy breath as you marched his way. 

It was no secret that when Taeyong left, your relationship - or lack thereof - was on shaky ground. Neither of you ever explained what was happening between you, but even a blind man could tell you were sleeping with each other.

You had wanted more, but Taeyong loathed labels and despised commitment. Frankly, you couldn’t blame him. He watched his parents' marriage crumble before his eyes. He gave his heart to someone and they shattered it into pieces. That was why you never bothered to try to make him yours. You feared rejection like it haunted you every night in your nightmares. 

Foolishly, you had believed the feelings would eventually fade in his absence. But they only grew. No matter who tried to take his place in your heart. 

You slipped beside Taeyong with heavy breath. The air was fresh, but it hardly touched your lungs. He could see your reflection in the water, and turned around to face you before you could get a word in. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you croaked, chiding your heart to calm herself down. 

Taeyong smiled. You saw his eyes twinkle in the moonlight. “Long time no see.”

“Relax. I’ve seen you perfectly fine over FaceTime,” you joked. 

Taeyong rolled his eyes, but smiled and said, “You know it’s not the same. Come here.” 

You immediately crashed into his arms like you couldn’t bear the wait any longer. He was right - it wasn’t the same. You missed the way his embrace warmed you to the core. Taeyong's arms were always where you felt safest. As if no harm could reach you as long as he was there. 

Peering up against his chest, you finally got a good look at him. Was it possible that he looked even better than the last time you saw him three years ago? 

Moonlight nuzzled his skin, making him look even more breathtaking. Its beam lit his sharp features and blond hair. The last time you'd seen it in person, it was black with blue streaks. Keeping Taeyong away from his dye was a Sisyphean task.  

Taeyong - arms in a loop around your waist - asked, “You know what else is different?” 

“What?” 

“I couldn't do this.” 

He offered little to no preparation before you were being tickled mercilessly, sent into a fit of involuntary giggling. Given most of your body was exposed, you were ultimately rendered helpless against his nimble fingers. 

Fighting your way out of his clasp was mission impossible. Taeyong always had ample strength over you, biceps taut with muscle. You could only arduously plead for him to stop, but to no avail, nearly on the verge of tears of laughter. 

Taeyong heaved a pleased sigh and smirked. Needlessly to say, he missed this. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you rasped, fighting for breath. And freedom.

“What’s that?” Taeyong mocked, molding his features as if he sincerely misheard you. “I can’t hear you. You’re laughing too hard.”

Louder, you begged, “Please!”

Taeyong dithered, but ultimately released you from his clutches. You heaved for breath, laughter fading into a smile on your lips as your ribs tensed with every inhale. Playfulness had always been an element of Taeyong’s nature, under the layer of his sober demeanor. Old habits die hard, you thought, melancholy. 

“Too much?” Taeyong asked. 

You shook your head, beaming. “I’m fine. Just out of breath.” 

Taeyong snickered. Of course, you were. Leave it to him to milk your lungs - and stamina - for all that they were worth. 

Taeyong gave you a once-over. With your body so close to his, he couldn’t ignore the way your warmth felt against his bare flesh. And promptly, his eyes fell on your figure. You were still beautiful. Some people deteriorated with age, but never you. It was like you could only become more gorgeous as the days passed. 

You looked the same, but still so different all at once. Perhaps most notably was your eyes. They gleamed, a little sadder than before. He couldn’t help but think that that was because of him. 

Then his eyes fell lower. The bikini you wore complemented your frame a little too goddamn well. Once upon a time, he owned your body. He recalled all those times he made you scream his name for the world to hear. 

Taeyong swiftly swept those memories away. Like hell he would catch a boner at the beach, which would definitely happen the longer he thought about the way you felt around him. Besides, your body didn’t belong to him anymore. And neither did your heart. 

Your heart beat for Jaehyun. 

You cleared your throat. “So, uh - how have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Taeyong replied, nodding his head. “My grandmother is doing a whole lot better than she was three years ago. The meds have been a great help. As you can see, she’s well enough to go without me again.”

“That’s wonderful news.” You always adored Mrs. Lee. The moment you discovered the ailing condition she was in, your heart hurt for her. 

Taeyong smiled thinly. “It is. It hurt seeing her like that everyday. I was so scared of losing her.”

You nodded in understanding. Above all, you knew that was Taeyong’s greatest fear in general - losing someone he treasured. He had a heart too big for his body. When he received the call from the hospital about his grandmother, Taeyong didn’t hesitate to travel across the globe to take care of her. Even on such short notice. 

The entire trajectory of his life changed with one phone call. He had to drop everything to be there for her. The life he had made for himself here. Even if she didn’t make it, Taeyong knew he had to be there for her in her final moments. 

You both respected and understood the rationale behind his abrupt withdrawal - which Taeyong was endlessly grateful for - but watching him leave wounded you like nothing else. 

You endeavored to fill the void in his absence. That was where Jaehyun came in. You started seeing each other only a few months after Taeyong left for Seoul and began dating not too long after. You liked Jaehyun, but it wasn’t the same. And it wasn’t him; it was you. Regardless of how good a man was to you, none of that mattered if he wasn’t Taeyong. 

Desperately did you want to forget about Taeyong and the way he made you feel. It would have been no use waiting around for him in the first place. He would never let you in. He never did. 

None of that ever happened. When Jaehyun made love to you, you thought of Taeyong. The way his calloused hands felt on your body. How he strung you to orgasm time after time without fail. When Jaehyun took you out on dates, you imagined it was Taeyong spoiling you. You couldn’t shake the thought of him; couldn’t shake the feelings you had for your best friend. 

They said time was the best healer, but you were still head over heels in love with a boy that was too scared to love you back. 

“I missed you, Taeyong,” you admitted in a soft voice. 

Taeyong avoided your eyes, facing the ocean. You did, too. “I missed you, too. It wasn’t easy, you know. Leaving. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare apologize for doing what you needed to do,” you chastised. “I understand. We would have all done the same thing if we were you. Don’t sweat it.”

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

You nudged his side a little. “What are best friends for?” 

That stung like hell. What if he told you that he wanted more than that? 

The two of you talked for a little on the shore, feet dug in the wet sand. You watched the moon wallow in the glistening waters. It served as a rough reminder to you. The way it felt when your body was in one place with one man, but your heart was across the pacific ocean with another. 

Above all, you wished he would have never stolen it from you. 

It became too much after a while and Taeyong made an excuse about neglecting the rest of friends to avoid spending further one-on-one time with you. No one interrupted. Unsurprisingly. The two of you had been closer than ever. They knew better. 

You were a bit hurt, but more so relieved. You felt like you couldn’t breathe next to Taeyong. Joining the rest of your friends felt like a breath of fresh air. 

The ten of you gathered around the bonfire, chatting and catching up. Taeyong wasn't the only one that had come from abroad. Lisa was visiting from Thailand, Rosé had returned from New Zealand, and Ten was… everywhere. A successful career in modeling would do that to you. 

Miami was the heart of your friendship. It was where you had met and where you would always meet again. Most of you were from different places, but it would always be a special spot for your group of friends. And no matter where you were, as long as you were together, you were home. 

After a while, you slipped away to grab a drink from the bar hut. From the distance, you could see Taeyong laughing.

You had gotten so used to loving him from afar. Even when he wasn’t across the ocean, he was still a world away. 

Rosé stole a seat at the barstool beside you, following your gaze. “You missed him, huh?”

For a brief second, your head snapped in her direction. You would never forget what a great friend she was. Easy to confide in, capable of garnering all your secrets in her palm. But this was different. “Of course. I missed you all,” you replied, deliberately straying away from the narrow path she was leading you down. 

Rosé gave you an unconvinced look. “Uh huh. And it has nothing to do with the two of you sleeping with each other?” 

You were borderline affronted she would even ask you that. You glanced away. “That didn’t mean anything. We were just a pair of horny fucks. Taeyong didn’t want anything serious anyways.”

“But did you?” 

You bristled. Curse her. Even in high school, she could always see dead through you. “No,” you lied through your teeth. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter if I did. That was three years ago. I have Jaehyun now.” 

“Love has no expiration date,” Rosé told you, unsparing. You sensed no foul intentions from her, but something about it made you dangerously uneasy. “Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person.”

Your brows furrowed. That’s odd, you thought to yourself. Why was she hell-bent on trying to convince you to admit you had feelings for Taeyong? 

Maybe it was nothing. You and Rosé went way back, as did the rest of the group. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body. 

You’re just overthinking it, you reasoned. Taeyong coming back has you overwhelmed with emotions. 

“I guess,” you said half-heartedly, downing another shot. You’d be damned if you somehow managed to get through the night sober. 

Rosé discerned that you wouldn’t give an inch and stood to her feet, smiling and patting your back gently before she left to regroup with the others. You followed suit. 

For the rest of the evening, you tried your best to stick close to your boyfriend. And away from Taeyong. More than anything, you needed a distraction. The closer you were to him, the more thoughts of your best friend ran rampant in your mind. 

You wanted to forgo every thought of him, but it was significantly easier said than done. It was like everything stopped then suddenly hit you all at once now that he had returned, and you didn’t know how to cope. 

Alcohol had the opposite of the intended effect. You were hyper focused on every tiny detail, noticing even the most mundane things about him. You could have paid your bills with your raw love for Taeyong, but under the influence, it was worth its weight in gold. 

“I’m tired,” you whispered to Jaehyun, patting his arm. “I’m going back to the room. Come back when you’re ready.”

Jaehyun nodded and gave you a swift kiss to the cheek. “Don’t wait up.”

You smiled, bid mostly everyone goodnight, and went on your way. Strangely enough, Taeyong had disappeared in the millisecond that you’d glanced away. 

You wrapped a towel around your body. When you were finally inside of the resort, you were relieved by the warm indoor air. It wasn’t exactly true that you were tired, but you needed a breather. Another second and it was guaranteed that you would lose whatever bit of mind you still had. 

Ironically, when the elevator opened, Taeyong glanced up from his phone and faced you. He cocked a brow. “And where do you think you’re sneaking off to?” 

“Upstairs,” you stammered, and promptly scolding yourself for doing so. “I’m spent and decided to call it a night.”

Taeyong bobbed his head and wondered if he had anything to do with it. You weren’t subtle in the slightest earlier, sneaking glances at him. Sneaking wasn’t an apt term. 

“Would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

You swallowed thickly. You had made so many memories with Taeyong in a single lifetime that every tiny thing reminded you of him. You remembered those days when he would walk you home, especially at night. Like hell he would let you walk home by yourself after dark. 

Every now and then in high school, he would walk you to and from class, and to your front doorstep after school. You would chat incessantly in the meantime, squeezing as much conversation between classes as possible. 

Everyone knew you were best friends. To see you two in the halls together, it was merely just another day. On more than one occasion, your teachers would ask you where he was on the days that you came to class alone. 

You heard your name being called and reeled out of your musing. 

“Sorry. I spaced out,” you said, flushing. “What did you say?” 

“I said - would it be weird if I walked you to your room?” 

“Of course not,” you replied, swallowing once more. You wanted to chide yourself for your lack of self-control. When it came to Taeyong, you just couldn’t say no. 

Taeyong smiled. He let you inside the elevator and moved his hand out of the way so that it would finally close. You punched in your floor number and let the elevator lift you there.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “How’s Neon?” 

Neon was your pet cat. She was an adorable fat gray cat with vibrantly orange eyes. And the love of your life. After Taeyong, of course. “She’s living the life. Eating a lot, as usual. Ten’s friend Yangyang is cat-sitting her as well as Leon and Louis.”

Taeyong snickered. “Oh boy. He’s in for one hell of a ride.” 

“You bet,” you chortled. “I’m expecting a call demanding we pick them up early any moment now. You know how those three get when they’re together.” 

The elevator chimed and opened and Taeyong let you out. “Ladies first,” he said with a smile, all gentleman-like. “And I’m assuming they’re chaotic as ever.”

“You assume correctly,” you replied, wishing you had your phone. “Yangyang’s totally chill, though. He takes their tomfoolery in stride and even sends us pictures. They toppled over a Cheerios box and somehow Neon wore it on her head.”

“I just got a mental picture of that and it’s absolutely hilarious.” 

You laughed. 

Now you were thinking about who Taeyong saw when he came home. You already knew the answer, but you still asked, “I know you’ve been taking care of your grandmother, but have you not been seeing anyone since you left?” 

“Nope. I never had the time or energy to invest.” 

“But you have it now.” 

“I guess I do,” Taeyong replied with a shrug. “But it won’t change much. It’s too late.” 

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean, it’s too late?”

Rosé had told you that love had no expiration date. Now Taeyong had said he was too late. Did Taeyong love someone? 

Your heart was shedding tears of blood. 

Taeyong offered you a harmless smile but didn’t elaborate very much. You had already arrived at your hotel room. “I’ll tell you someday. I promise,” he swore. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong did a one-eighty and began to walk in the direction he had come. Your eyes followed him, stinging. It always hurt to watch him leave. 

It hurt him to walk away. Little did you know, he had spent every day thinking about you. What could have been. When the news broke out about your relationship with Jaehyun shortly after his departure, Taeyong wanted to be happy for you, but nothing but pain and regret and longing plagued his chest. 

The worst part was that he had nobody to blame but himself. He dithered too long and let another man take his place. It was unfair for him to expect you to sit around and stay. Even when he was by your side, you were still waiting for him to decide when he would be ready to let somebody inside his heart again. 

Coward, Taeyong scolded himself. He wanted to love you, but he was too scared and too selfish. Every time, he chose himself over you. And now that you had chosen someone else over him too, he would have to live with that. 

You both would. 

You took a shower and crawled into bed. Jaehyun was beside you when you woke in the afternoon, sleeping like a rock. You took a picture for the group chat and had a good laugh while you still could, knowing he would inevitably seek vengeance. At least somebody was going to milk the absolute hell out of this vacation. 

you: good morning

haechan: it’s 2pm

you: not for this guy

you: [one attachment]

ten: oh you are so, so wrong 

jennie: sleeping beauty? 

johnny: that’s the beast 

mark: lmfaoooo 

lisa laughed at “that’s the beast”

rosé: wipe the corners of his mouth plz 

taeyong: he’s gonna be so mad when he sees this 

you: teehee

you: beach day?

“Sleep with one eye open,” Jaehyun warned lightheartedly when you both arrived back at the beach. 

You giggled. No matter what age, you and your friends would always love a great prank. The war was officially on. 

Looking around for the others, your eyes fell on Taeyong. And Lord have mercy, he was mouthwatering. Had he found the time to work out? Light sheened his sun-kissed skin, dancing on his abs and shoulders. It was no wonder why you started sleeping with this man. 

You saw another woman approach him and immediately frowned. As expected, it was no other than Jennie. Let there be no misunderstanding, neither of you had any bad blood or ill feeling. You simply had a lot of common interests.

And the greatest common denominator was Taeyong. 

Your heart sprained in your chest viciously, taut with envy. A girl as beautiful as Jennie got everything and everyone she ever wanted. She always did. Except for Taeyong. But maybe now he would fall for her charms. 

His words rang in your head. It’s too late. You didn’t know what he meant by that and it was killing you. 

Taeyong glanced in your direction and your gaze instantly shifted elsewhere. You could not do this for another six days. 

Time passed in a blur. You had fun and pushed him into the back of your head. Mark, Haechan and Johnny decided it would be fun to spray you and Jaehyun with water guns, which culminated in one huge water gun battle. 

By the end of it, you were drenched. You draped yourself in a towel whilst the gang slowly disintegrated until only you and Taeyong remained. 

Dammit, you hissed when you noticed him approaching you. Where the hell did everybody go? 

From the staid look on his face, you had a feeling you would not be fond of whatever he was preparing to say. “We need to talk,” Taeyong said, humorless and stony-faced. 

Your eyes flickered. “Now?”

“How much longer do you want to pretend that everything is peachy between us?” Taeyong asked you unsparingly. Which made you flinch. You weren’t used to him being so stern. “I keep seeing you look at me, and I know you see me looking at you. Why are we holding back?”

Because all I know how to do is pretend, you thought somberly. But even you got tired of playing make-believe. 

Taeyong softened and asked, “Walk the shore with me?”

Finding no protest, you agreed. There was a chance this would abate your misery. Or intensify it. There was no in between. 

You abandoned your towel at one of the beach chairs and began to walk side by side with Taeyong. For a while, it was quiet. The silence only pervaded your chest with dread. 

Little did you know, Taeyong was at war with himself. His heart was on one side, but his mind was on the other, and he teetered between them both with every passing second. He opened his mouth to ask, “Do you remember what happened before I left?” 

It was impossible to forget. Before he left, before he got the call. You broke things off, explaining that you didn’t want to sleep with him anymore. Taeyong panicked. He wondered what he had done wrong. But it wasn’t his fault - it was yours.

You winced your eyes shut. Everything had been too deep, too intimate, and you hadn’t known how to handle yourself. Every time you were with him, you were on the verge of doing or saying something you would regret. 

Things became a little strained, and for the first time, awkward. You had no time to fix it before he was taking the next flight to Seoul. 

You eventually got over it by simply never addressing what went wrong. But there was a sneaking question still gnawing at his heart. 

You heaved a sigh. “We already resolved this, Taeyong.”

“No, we didn’t. We ignored the problem. As usual,” Taeyong corrected. You bit your lip, but didn’t argue. No argument could be made. “You never told me why.” 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I know that,” Taeyong replied, brusque. “But that’s not an answer.”

You fought a nervous laugh. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you stopped sleeping with him was because it made you fall for him even more? 

Taeyong pressed, “Was it because you had feelings for Jaehyun?”

You blinked. He was so hot but so cold all at once.

It would have been the easier answer. You could have lied and easily gave him all the closure he needed then and there. “No,” you said instead, honest. “I had no romantic interest in him at the time.” 

That allowed Taeyong to breathe easier, but he was still adamant. “Then, why?” 

Your pulse quickened. You felt like you were being put on the spot. Every gear in your brain grinded against asphalt to a complete halt. 

You contemplated straying from the truth, but you had lived a lie long enough. Taeyong would surely be able to sense you were bluffing. “Because I wanted more,” you whispered, your voice barely above the rushing shore. “And I knew that you didn’t.”

Taeyong stopped dead in his tracks, footsteps coming to an end as he riveted in place. He spluttered, “What?” 

“I can’t do this,” you said, shaking your head. It was your turn to be a coward and run. 

Taeyong called after you and began to pursue you, but you had an advantage. You were barefooted. It was not easy to run in the sand while wearing flip-flops. 

You hid somewhere along the shore, sinking your feet into the water. Tears stung your eyes, the only reason you noticed they were trickling warmly down your cheeks. How could you love someone that didn’t love you so intensely? 

It wasn’t fair. Your heart was ripped to tatters and yet he had no idea of your pain. Three years and the wound was still fresh, dampened by your salty tears. It stung like nothing else. 

You remembered how it felt to be underneath Taeyong. How hard it was to look into his eyes. Nevertheless, he would demand you made eye contact with him. And you would obey, because when you were aroused, Taeyong owned every piece of you.

You feared how much control he had over you in that state. Not only your body, but your mind. You knew that whatever you said or did under his spell and in his trance went beyond conscious control but couldn’t be taken back. And whenever Taeyong strung you to climax, you wanted to profess your love for him at the very top of your lungs. 

A noise sounded from behind you, and you whirled around to be met face to face with Taeyong. “I followed your footsteps,” he explained. You nodded with a sigh and turned back around. Taeyong slipped beside you and asked, “Why are you crying?” 

“I’m not.”

Taeyong fought a roll of his eyes and wiped your cheeks with his thumb. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered, tender. “So I can make it better.”

“You can’t make it better,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes. It’s too late. You almost said those words, but you caught yourself when you remembered where you’d heard them before. 

Taeyong studied you. His eyes were warm, gentle. Why was he looking at you like that? Like you had spawned the earth with your bare hands. 

“Do you…,” Taeyong hesitated, turning melancholy. “Do you still want me?” 

“Taeyong…” 

He coaxed, “Tell me the truth.” 

“What if I do?” you snapped. “What if it’s my boyfriend’s friend that I’ve wanted this entire time? Then what?” 

Taeyong enveloped your lips in a kiss and your fears promptly vanished. For a moment, you were stunned, but you kissed him back because your body had already been so accustomed to the way his lips felt on yours. 

You melted into his touch. It was definitely wrong, but it felt right. Every rational thought subsided with your fear and you subconsciously strung your fingers through his hair, running on instinct. Memories worked against you. You recalled all those times you made out with your best friend, under the sun or in the moonlight or in the comfort of his bedroom. 

Tasting him on your tongue, you remember exactly how much you liked kissing Taeyong. He always kissed you like there was no tomorrow, holding you tight and sucking harshly on your tongue. 

Taeyong pulled away, rasping, and said, “I just kissed my friend’s girlfriend. I guess we’re both in hot water.”

Your heart exploded with a million emotions. For the love of Christ, he had just kissed you in public. Fortunately, there was nobody around when you looked. He was so stupid, but you loved his stupid little face. 

“You’re crazy,” you replied, stepping away to put some distance between you both. 

Taeyong snickered. “I owe it all to you.”

Fuck. What were you doing? You were a taken woman. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t feel very guilty. 

You felt aroused. 

It was impossible to kiss Taeyong and not become aroused all at once. For him, it was like second nature to turn you on. A nibble here and a growl there and you were sold.

Frightened by your own lack of self-restraint, you ran again. You didn’t know what all would happen if you stayed and you didn’t want to find out, either. 

Instead of chasing you again, Taeyong watched you and chuckled because he knew why you were running this time, and you were a mess. What was he thinking - kissing you? He was out of his goddamn mind, but he was out of his goddamn mind in love with you. 

You rushed into your hotel room and didn’t breathe until your back was squarely against the door. It was safe to say that you were positively doomed. 

Traces of Jaehyun remained scattered around the room, but he was nowhere to be found. You remembered that he mentioned he would be having lunch with Johnny and Rosé. 

That only allowed for more time for you to think about Taeyong. Your body burned with arousal. You were content to feel him simply because it was him, but it helped that he was good at what he did. His touch lingered on your body and you savored the taste of his tongue on yours, craving it all over again. 

But you snapped out of your trance and halted. You had been so caught up in the pleasure of Taeyong kissing you that you hardly realized the weight of that action. Did that mean Taeyong wanted you, too? 

And for your heart, or for your body?

Meanwhile Taeyong was still standing by the ocean, thoughts of you plaguing his mind. He wanted to kiss you again so badly. He wished you would break up with Jaehyun and realize you were meant for him. 

He wasn’t scared anymore. He wasn’t the boy that ran away. It took him some time, but he knew now that he wanted you more than anything. And he was ready to risk it all to get you. 

You spent the rest of the day crammed in your room, afraid you would run into Taeyong and do something stupid. Jaehyun came back eventually and fell asleep beside you. You had officially survived two of seven days, though barely. Tomorrow might have been your breaking point. 

A little after two in the morning, you woke to use the bathroom. When you came back, you noticed your phone screen lit with a text message. 

From Taeyong. It read, You up? 

You hesitated, but ultimately typed back a response. Barely. What’s up? 

The typing bubble popped up at the bottom of the screen and you watched and waited for him to type a response. Meet me in the lobby in 10?

That was dangerous. You glanced up from your phone, looking at your boyfriend. Jaehyun was dead asleep. For certain he could sleep through a natural disaster.

Give me 5, you replied. Temptation got the best of you. 

Bet. 

You washed your face, slipped on your shoes, then crept out the door, careful not to wake Jaehyun. You made a beeline for the elevator. 

Waiting for you in the lobby stood no other than the love of your life. Literally. For as long as you could remember, you loved Taeyong. 

You saw his face before you even saw his face. Those images had been bouncing around in your brain for the entire day, asserting dominance and assuring you that they were there to stay. You were perpetually doomed. 

You raised your brow when you saw him, a ball of energy. Much unlike you, but seeing him gave you your second wind. “You do realize that it’s two in the morning, right?” 

“Jet lag,” Taeyong explained, amused. “Miami is fourteen hours behind Seoul.”

Like you weren’t convinced, you added, “Mm-hm. And running around in the sun didn’t exhaust you for a day?”

Taeyong lifted his arms in surrender. “You caught me,” he said, before briefly changing the subject. He couldn’t sleep because every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Thoughts of you kept him up at night more often than not. “Wanna go somewhere special?” 

“Like what?” you asked curiously. Come to think of it, you had hardly left the hotel since you arrived. 

Taeyong said nothing, merely smirking with mischief and leading you to the parking lot with your fingers between his. 

Oh, god. Taeyong was nothing if not trouble. 

A brief car ride consisting of both of you singing horribly and off-key to whatever song blared on the radio brought you to a very familiar place. One you hadn’t been to since the beginning of college. 

Taeyong opened the door for you and led you to a chained fence. Obviously, you could not go through it. Meaning you would have to climb over it.

“Ladies first,” Taeyong insisted, wanting to be on this side in case you needed help climbing over. 

“This is literally trespassing.”

Taeyong countered smartly, “It’s not trespassing unless you get caught.”

“If I go to jail…,” you hissed. 

Taeyong didn’t flinch. “Relax. Don’t you see this pretty face? I’ve talked a lady out of giving me a speeding ticket before.”

“Aren’t you Prince Charming,” you sneered, but moved towards the fence to clamber above. You had done it a million times before. Granted, you were a reckless teenager at the time, but memory was all the skill you needed. 

“Watch your step!” Taeyong called out. 

You called back, “I know what I’m doing, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong snickered. It took everything for you to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the sound of his laughter so that you wouldn’t trip and get a concussion. 

The moment you were safely on the other end, Taeyong followed after you, skillfully climbing over the fence like he had done a number of times in the distant past. 

“I still got it,” he said unabashedly once he was beside you again. 

“You’re a grown adult man.”

Taeyong argued, “I’m a boy wonder.”

You shook your head. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that this was the man you loved with your whole mind, heart and soul. 

Soon enough, you were at the edge of a building, sitting comfortably on the rooftop and watching the city buzz with life even at the late hour. Miami never slept. Many things changed, but that fact wasn’t one of them. 

A shroud of darkness swept over the town, combated by glimmering lights in sky-scraping structures. Cars honked faintly in the distance, a sign of life. You smiled at the familiarity. Once upon a time, you and Taeyong would sneak off to this exact place, a safe haven from your crazy lives. 

Though you found that any place you were together was a refuge. As long as you had each other, you were safe. 

“Taeyong,” you called, cutting through the silence. 

“Hm?” 

“Why did you kiss me?” 

Your voice dripped with emotion. He met your eyes, and they were sad. You had been asking yourself that question the entire day, but to no avail. 

“Because…” Taeyong hesitated. “Because I’ve been waiting to kiss you again for the past three years.” 

Your eyes flickered. You had no idea he felt that way, and you were in a bit of denial. How could he go from being scared shitless of the thought of love to being in love with you? 

There was a tug at your heart, but you tried your best to ignore it. You decided to put him to the test. “Do you want back what we had?” 

“No,” Taeyong replied, honest. His eyes were big and doe-like. “You were wrong earlier. I did want more. I still do.” 

You swallowed harshly. He wanted more this whole time, but had been running away from you. Like you were armed and dangerous. Little did he know, his warmth and tenderness disarmed you completely. You were weak and defenseless. “I don’t want to be just sex to you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

But Taeyong heard you, lurching and asking, “Is that what you thought you were?”

“What else was I supposed to think?” you asked, shrugging and blinking away tears. You weren’t strong enough for this. That was why you had derailed this conversation for so long. You knew full well it would break you. 

Taeyong was full of regret. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve wanted you my whole life?” 

You blinked. Your heart felt so heavy in your chest. All these years of longing for Taeyong’s heart, only to find that you already had it. It was too much. 

“I was just too scared. The wound was still fresh. I was in a dark place and somehow convinced myself that the whole world was against me. If I let you in, you had my heart at your disposal, and that was too much for me. The last time I let someone that close, they broke me.” 

“I would never do that to you, Taeyong,” you whispered sincerely, reaching for his hand. “You have to trust me. Your heart is precious to me.” 

“I just wish I would have known that before,” Taeyong blew out a sigh, wistful. “It took me almost losing my grandmother to realize that before anything else, I’m afraid of lost. I didn’t want to lose you. But then you got with Jaehyun…”

You finished, “And you felt like you’d already lost me.”

Taeyong nodded. “I was too late. That was what I meant the other day. I thought your heart already belonged to somebody else and I started to think that maybe I never really had a chance.”

The past three years had been hard on Taeyong. He tried to make sense of his life, to pull together any explanation so that he could better rationalize it, even if it wasn’t true. 

He was overwhelmed. All of these emotions were resurfacing, banding together against him and slapping him across the face. It felt like being jolted awake by a bucket of cold water. Nostalgia ran its course with him, but so did regret. And the pining and love for you that made his chest swell hotly. He was angry with himself. For being such a big baby, for not noticing that you had wanted him, too. 

“Taeyong…” you called out.

Taeyong shook his head and stood to his feet, pacing around the rooftop. “This is all my fault. If I would have never been such a coward, if I would have just told you how I felt from the beginning, none of this would have happened. You wouldn’t have tried to fill the void with Jaehyun.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for this,” you said gently, following him. “I made that decision. I didn’t know how to cope without you and so I did something really, really stupid.”

“But you wouldn’t have made it if it wasn’t for me,” Taeyong said, too out of it and too in his head. He was crumbling before your eyes. Torn asunder and ruptured beyond reclaim.

Frustrated, you ran a hand through your hair and called his name again. “You don’t know that. I ended our friends with benefits relationship, remember? I would have done anything to distract myself from my feelings for you.” 

To no avail. Taeyong wanted to crawl back inside his shell and hide. This world was too big and he felt as if he had no place in it. Not for any good reason, at least. 

What good was he? He broke your heart, because he was too scared of you breaking his. 

And you wound up breaking each other. 

As a last resort, you leaned on your toes and pressed your lips to his. Just like that, he was at ease again. You yelped when Taeyong hauled you into his arms and pressed you against the nearest wall, kissing you fiercely as if you’d stirred up a monster inside him. It was wide awake and ready to raise hell. 

For a moment, you both forgot about the rest of the world. You forgot about Jaehyun. He forgot that you weren’t his. It was just the two of you, two true lovers making out beneath the moonlight, making up for the time you’d lost when you could have been together. 

Nothing else mattered. You were content to simply be in each other’s arms. 

Taeyong dug you into the wall harder, resting all of his weight on you. It felt like the wind was knocked out of you, but you could hardly breathe before then. Taeyong took your breath away and left you begging for more. 

You moaned into his mouth, pleased as you threaded your fingers through his hair. Taeyong was bent on making a mess of you, reducing you to nothing but love and lust. Warmth coursed through your bodies, scorching hot flares of heat and energy. 

You pulled away first this time, eager to catch your breath. And Taeyong simply stared at you like he had never seen anything or anyone more beautiful, sated. 

“None of this is your fault, Taeyong,” you reassured him, your voice breathy for obvious reasons. “We’ll figure something out.” 

Now, Taeyong was convinced. As long as you had him and he had you, everything would work out. Love would always find a way. 

Taeyong already knew the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. Like it would quell all his worries once and for all. “Do you love him?” 

“I love Jay,” you replied solemnly. “But I’m in love with you.”

That was all Taeyong needed to hear before he was sweeping you into his arms again, smashing his lips to yours. 

You continued to make noises, little groans and growls on his end and a plethora of tiny smothered moans on yours. And god, were they hot as hell. They brought back memories of when you two would fuck until you had depleted every last bit of your stamina. 

It got to the point where Taeyong had to pull away from you, half-hard and afraid of getting too turned on. When you two were together - and alone - it was very, very dangerous. 

“Mm, we can’t,” Taeyong hummed, calling time-out. “I’m definitely a piece of shit, but I’m not that much of a piece of shit.”

You sighed. He was right. This was going too far too fast. You needed to breathe and slow down. 

Easier said than done. You obviously couldn’t control yourselves around each other. 

“Let’s regroup tomorrow,” you suggested. “Today technically, but you know what I mean.” 

Taeyong snickered. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” 

The two of you ditched the rooftop and climbed back over the fence, though in no particular rush to get back to his car. You wanted to stay. You wanted to spend every moment of your life with Taeyong, but things were, needless to say, complicated. Life simply didn’t work in your favor. 

Much to your dismay, Jaehyun was wide awake when you came back to your joint room. You felt like a deer caught in headlights when you met his perturbed eyes. 

“Where have you been?” Jaehyun asked. There was no hostility in his voice; only consternation. 

You felt no need to lie. Jaehyun may have been your boyfriend, but he was also your friend. No matter what it came down to, you would never betray his trust by lying to his face. “I was with Taeyong.” 

Jaehyun cocked a brow. “At four in the morning?” 

You blinked. You hadn’t realized that it had been that long. 

Jaehyun added, “You didn’t pick up your phone. I was worried.”

“I haven't checked it. I’m sorry for worrying you,” you said, approaching him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was sitting at the edge of the bed. “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

“It’s okay,” Jaehyun murmured, voice half-muffled into the crook of your neck. “Just don’t do it again.”

You chuckled, but for the first time, you felt ashamed. Jaehyun didn’t deserve you. He deserved better. A tear nearly slipped down your cheek, but you fought it back with everything you had. You had no right to cry. 

Never did you want to love Taeyong. Love was not a choice. If you could have taken your heart back from his clutches, you would have. But your heart was under tyranny. Love was too powerful. Every beat was for him and him alone. 

Anger presented itself as spasms of heat in your chest, completely directed at yourself. Why couldn’t you love Jaehyun? That would have made everything a hell of a lot easier. He had never wronged you as your friend or as your boyfriend. He took you on romantic dates and he sang to you to cheer you up after a long day and he was always there to show you love. 

Jaehyun is a great guy, you thought. But he’s not the guy for me. 

You knew what you needed to do. Jaehyun might have resented you for ruining what was seemingly a perfectly healthy and happy relationship, especially with no warning, but you couldn’t keep his heart chained away any longer. Somewhere in this world, you knew there was a girl for him that could love him in all the ways you couldn’t. 

As you drifted back to sleep that night, there was a weight on your chest. Before this trip was over, you needed to find the strength to break Jaehyun’s heart. 

Little did you know, Jaehyun sat thoughtfully awake as you slept beside him, already aware that this relationship was bound to end for some time. 

The third day was eventful and a breath of fresh air. You had girl time with the ladies and left the guys to fend for themselves. 

You pressed a kiss to the corner of Jaehyun’s lips then looked amongst the string of guys beside him and said, “Be good. Don’t blow anything up.” 

The guys laughed. Most of them. 

Ten winked and said, “No promises.” He, Mark, Haechan, and Johnny looked full of mischief. 

When your eyes met Taeyong’s, he was watching you. You stepped away from Jaehyun and cleared your throat. 

“Have a good time,” Jaehyun told you.

You forced a smile. “You, too.”

It was a relief when you managed to escape. For the entire day, you were for once able to shake the thoughts of Taeyong and the rack and ruin of your relationship with Jaehyun. 

A spa day with the girls was exactly what you needed to palliate your sadness. And a fun couple of hours of spending way too much money at the shopping center. You wore a constant smile on your face. It reminded you of old times. It would be a while before all of you could gather together like this again, and you wanted to make every minute count. 

No boy business. Although, you were very intrigued about their love lives. Grown women had crushes, too. 

Eventually, you all went for dinner and drinks at a nice pub, laughing over a meal and reminiscing fondly. 

“I need to slow down,” you said, shaking your head once you caught notice of how many drinks you’d chugged. 

Lisa snickered. “Yeah, you do. Just in case you accidentally trip into a chocolate fountain again.”

Rosé and Jennie laughed. 

You rolled your eyes. “I was nineteen and blackout drunk. Give me some credit.” 

You were the laughing stock of the group, but only for a couple of days, because everyone moved on when Mark did something three times more funny and embarrassing. That was how the cycle went in your group. 

That night wasn’t all that bad. Taeyong had a laugh at your expense for sure, but he helped you clean yourself up. And when he thought nobody was looking, kissed some of the chocolate off of the corner of your lips. 

Don’t you dare go there. You aren’t supposed to be thinking about Taeyong, you scolded yourself. 

“Remember that time we caught you and Taeyong practically fucking in the pool?” Rosé asked, heavily amused by the memory. 

You flushed. And wanted to sink into the ground. Ever since you started hooking up, it had been hard for you and Taeyong to keep it in your pants around each other. Especially when alcohol was involved. 

Lisa grimaced in disgust. “Ugh. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.”

“And they had the audacity to think nobody knew they were hooking up,” Jennie said, shaking your head. “Speaking of which - how was it?” 

“I have a boyfriend. I am not going to think about another man’s penis,” you retorted, but it was too late for you. You were thinking about another man’s penis. And god, Taeyong always felt nice and snug inside you. 

Not to mention, he was skilled with more than just his dick. The amount of times he had made you cum with his mouth or on his fingers was ungodly. 

Jennie begged, “Please? I’ve wanted to jump his bones my whole life.”

Lisa laughed in surprise. “Jesus.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, displeased. “He’s good. To say the least.”

Jennie was unimpressed. “Well, duh. You kept coming back to him for some reason.” 

The girls chortled.

She continued, “How big is it? Does it have a little curve? Does it lean or does it hang? Is it trimmed?” 

You waved your hand for a waiter. “Check, please!” 

Way too drunk, the four of you called an Uber. On the way home, Lisa started talking about a girl she’d met at the beach that was totally trying to get in her pants. Lisa, ever a tease, was delaying the inevitable. 

You all laughed and prayed for that poor girl. She was in for a ride. Though Lisa definitely wanted her back, that much was clear. Otherwise she would have never spared her a second of time.

Jaehyun was in the room when you got there, evidently no less drunk than you. And when Jaehyun was drunk, he got touchy. He pulled you into his lap, and you wondered exactly what all those six had done. Jaehyun very rarely made moves on you. 

To be frank, you never minded having sex with Jaehyun. It was unforced. You saw him as everything Taeyong should have been to you, but wasn’t. For some reason, things never worked that way. Your feelings and sex were too completely different aspects, but this and your relationship with Taeyong could never have that in common. 

Exhausted, you decided not to have sex with him and he didn’t push, but you instead foolishly opened a bottle of wine he’d brought along and chatted incessantly, recounting the days events. 

Your heart was sad. When you broke up with him - and you would - you hoped it wouldn’t tarnish the beautiful friendship you had. 

It was late when you both finally decided to call it a night. A couple of unread messages sat untouched on your phone screen, but you noticed Taeyong’s first. From two hours ago. 

I miss you. 

Your heart fluttered. Taeyong was thinking about you. 

Guilt made its way into your chest. You felt bad for responding so late. Aside from your little rooftop encounter, you had barely spoken to Taeyong at all today. 

Sorry. I’m with Jay. He wants to spend the night with me, you replied. That was very true. Jaehyun had no intention of leaving this room until tomorrow and he didn’t want to be alone. It was a bonus that he enjoyed your company.

The ‘delivered’ noticon changed to ‘read’ almost instantly, like Taeyong had been waiting by his phone. It’s fine. See you tomorrow. 

You frowned. You could feel his pain through the phone. It wasn’t your intention to blow him off, but your hands were tied. And every time you were with Taeyong, you felt more and more ashamed of yourself. 

Not to mention, you were drunk out of your mind. You didn’t trust yourself to be around Taeyong, but you especially didn’t trust your intoxicated self. 

Goodnight, Taeyong. 

Taeyong flopped backwards on his bed and sighed. All he wanted was you, but you weren’t his. And a part of him feared that you never would be. 

Jaehyun hadn’t been subtle earlier this evening. He left with every intention of getting some, a testament to his insobriety. Taeyong wondered if he was touching you in all the places he once did, if you’d given Jaehyun your body like you had given it to him. 

He couldn’t stomach it. The thought of you below another man, calling Jaehyun’s name. Fuck, could he even please you the way Taeyong could? Did he know your body the way Taeyong did? 

Maybe he truly was replaceable. You made him doubt whether he had ever been good enough for you. What if you decided last-minute that you didn’t want him - that you didn’t love him? 

I’m in love with you. That was what you said, but did you mean it? Did you really love him?

A girl had lied to him in the past. He was backstabbed and betrayed. But you weren’t her and she wasn’t you. Taeyong had faith that something more could blossom between the two of you, beyond the skin of friendship. 

Taeyong tossed and turned and struggled to fall asleep, staving off his demons. Meanwhile, you were in Jaehyun’s arms, safe and sound. 

Taeyong saw you the next day and the day after that, but you barely spoke. A word was exchanged here and there, but you made no move to engage in conversation with him and he found it difficult to steal you away. 

His fear was unabating. Had he said something wrong? A day or two ago, you had been seemingly fine. And now it felt more like you were avoiding him. 

To make matters worse, he was forced to watch you smile and laugh with Jaehyun. The two of you obviously hadn’t broken up yet. He thought you would have before the trip was over, and there were merely two days left. 

A bitter feeling scorched in Taeyong’s chest. 

Meanwhile, beneath the facade of a radiant girl in a happy relationship, you were shattering. Time was running out. It felt like the walls were slowly but steadily closing in on you. 

You knew you needed to do something, but you had no strength. You were terrified of how Jaehyun would respond. Would he be understanding? Would he resent you for breaking his heart on such short notice and getting with Taeyong even sooner? 

Guilt was crippling. You hadn’t felt it before, but it was merciless to you now. Everything was so heat of the moment with Taeyong and a test of your self-control. 

A knock from the door made both you and Jaehyun pause your conversation. No one announced themselves, thus you figured it wasn’t the hotel staff. And it was well past midnight. 

Jaehyun went to open the door and you followed suit. And your heart promptly sank when you realized who was there. 

“Hey,” Taeyong said stiffly, hands in his pockets. He nodded his head in your direction. “I know it’s late, but can I talk to you?” 

“Yeah. Sure,” you replied, sliding on your shoes. You were not eager, but you needed to get him away from Jaehyun. Your heart was being rapidly in your chest, twisting with fear. 

Taeyong knew it was a foolish idea to show up unannounced, in the middle of the night no less, but his restraint had depleted. He was worn and battered. And he needed his best friend. 

You gave Jaehyun a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll  be back, babe. Don’t wait up.”

Jaehyun was unperturbed and gave you a little nod, smiling back. “Keep her safe,” he told Taeyong. 

Your fragile heart broke. Why did love have to be so complicated? 

As soon as Jaehyun was out of earshot, you whispered to Taeyong, “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

“Yes,” was Taeyong’s wry response.

His lack of somberness made you bristle. “We have to be subtle. You looked mighty suspicious popping up after midnight. Jaehyun is…” 

Taeyong interjected bleakly, all of the humor in his tone absent, “You haven’t told him yet.”

You stepped inside his hotel room and blinked. “No. I haven’t.” 

Taeyong shut the door behind himself then flopped on his bed with a sigh, patting the spot next to him. You were reluctant, but ultimately took a seat. A storm of emotion raised hell inside your chest. How could he have been so close to you, but so far away?

You looked into his eyes and knew something - if not everything - was wrong. Taeyong wore his heart on his sleeve. He was sensitive and tender. His vulnerability was a blessing and a curse, something he'd come to hate and you'd come to adore. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you sang, rubbing his arm. “I can’t read your mind, Taeyong. You have to let me in.” 

Taeyong decided to be frank. “Have you been avoiding me?”

Your eyes flickered, and you responded by instinct, “I was trying to balance my time. I didn’t want him to become suspicious.”

“That called for a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’” 

You heaved a breath. “Yes, I have been avoiding you.”

Taeyong said nothing. As much as it pained him, he understood. He knew what it was like to be in a relationship with someone, but long for somebody else. 

Though that never eased the sting of betrayal. It wounded him like nothing else. It was a scar he would carry for the rest of his life. 

“I want you,” Taeyong whispered. Even in the dark room, you could see how his eyes glimmered with sadness. “Every moment I’m away from you, I only want you even more.”

You exhaled, “Taeyong…”

“I’m not finished,” Taeyong said brusquely. “Even when I was with her, I was thinking about you. I was thinking, ‘is this really how love is supposed to be?’ And I wondered if it would be different with you.”

You just listened to the sound of your heart swelling with every passing word. 

“I think part of me knew it would be. Because you had already loved me better without being in a relationship with me.”

“I…,” you searched tirelessly for words, but came short of them. “I don’t know what to say.”

Taeyong was swift. “Say you love me.”

“I love you,” you told him sincerely. You lied next to him and made him look you in the eyes. “You know, I tried to move on. That’s why I got with Jaehyun. I thought that with you on the other side of the world, and another man on my hands, I would forget how it felt to love you. But I never did.”

Taeyong leaned in to kiss you, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let him. You jerked away and stood to your feet. 

You shook your head, tears threatening to break through the dam. “I can’t do this.”

Taeyong rose after you. “Why can’t you?”

“Because I’m not yours!” you whisper-yelled, trying to be mindful of his most likely resting neighbors. “And you’re not mine!”

“Just let him down gently,” Taeyong sighed. 

You bristled. “Do you really think it’s that easy?” 

“If you love me, then yes.”

That shredded your heart and filled you with ire altogether, but because you didn’t want to fight, you turned around and chose flight. 

Taeyong - hot on your heels - chose to fight. He wanted to fight for you and everything you had together. He incredulously trailed behind you, wanting to put the pieces together again instead of leaving them damaged and broken. 

“Where are you going?” he called from behind you, speeding up his pace to match yours. 

You continued to stomp away lividly, not turning sparing him a glance. “Away from you,” you replied coldly. 

“No, you're not,” Taeyong growled, grabbing your arm and forcing you to look at him. He was fuming, eyes narrowed and his aura the most vicious you'd ever seen. “You can’t run away. You can’t hide from me.”

That was rich. You chuckled sourly. “Oh, but you can?” 

“No,” Taeyong snapped harshly. His grip on your arm was firm, but cautious. “Neither of us. If this is going to work, if we’re going to be together, then we need to learn how to face confrontation.”

Breaking loose from his grasp, you shouted, “I wish I didn’t love you!”

Taeyong riveted in place. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you said ruthlessly, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. “Do you think I’ve been miserable for the past three years out of choice? If I could stop loving you, I fucking would!” 

“Baby, calm down,” Taeyong whispered, trying to placate you. His eyes scanned the area for onlookers, and though there weren’t many at this hour, there were quite a few. 

You didn’t listen, taking steps further away with every step he took closer to you. This was mentally - and emotionally - wearing you down. “Don’t you feel anything? Even a goddamn ounce of guilt?” 

“So then, break up!”

Shaking your head, you bitterly accepted that he would never understand. And you made a beeline for one of the doors on his floor, well aware of who was on the other side. 

You pounded on the door relentlessly. “Come on, come on,” you chanted to yourself. Any second now, Taeyong would catch up to you. You wished he would leave you alone. You wanted him to get out of your head. You hated that you needed him even though you didn’t want to. 

Rosé opened the door with a bemused expression on her face. 

You begged her, “Please, let me in and lock the door.” 

Rosé didn’t hesitate to sweep you inside, locking the door behind you. She glimpsed outside the blinds, trying to find what in the hell had you so distressed. “What the hell happened?” 

“You were right,” you said, collapsing in a mess on the floor. You were giving away, coming apart at the seams. “I loved Taeyong. I still do.”

Rosé was tempted to make a snarky remark about how she already knew, but she understood that wasn’t what you needed. She held her arms wide open for you to crawl into. 

You sobbed on her shoulder. You cried until you had no more tears left. Surprisingly, she never judged you. Your friend simply held you in her embrace and gave you a reassuring pat on the back, singing her consoles softly. 

You were so overwhelmed. You had no strength against your emotions. They got the best of and vanquished you. 

I hate Taeyong, you thought bitterly. No you don’t. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you can’t undo everything you’ve said and done to each other. You hate that no matter what happens, you’ll always love him. 

It seemed so simple. If you broke up with Jaehyun, you could finally have the man of your dreams, but at what cost? Being the object of Jaehyun’s acrimony? Your peace of mind? 

No matter what option you choose, your heart was at stake. 

A little refreshed, you eventually pulled away from Rosé. Though she had no issue with being there for you, she was still curious. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

You explained everything. How you fell in love with Taeyong a long, long time ago. How you gave away your heart in exchange for sex with him. How you tried to get over him by getting under Jaehyun. How none of it worked, and you came to discover Taeyong had feelings for you, too. 

These were secrets you'd kept buried under the surface for years now, and to your surprise, you felt relieved of the burden once they were all out there. 

“I’ve spent an eternity pretending. I’m exhausted, Rosie,” you confessed. 

Rosé bobbed her head understandingly. “What’s stopping you from breaking up with Jaehyun?” 

“It’s not that I want to keep his heart locked away. He deserves someone better than me,” you began, staring at the floor. “I just don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to get with Taeyong and make Jaehyun feel like he never meant anything to me. But I guess I’m just delaying the inevitable.”

Rosé chuckled lightly. “You are. It’s selfish to wait when he could already be trying to move on and find the girl meant for him. And who knows - maybe he already knows this moment is coming sooner or later.” 

You blinked. “I guess that’s true.”

“You already told me yourself that you’re tired of pretending. Why pretend, then? What if he’s pretending as well? As long as you’re living a lie, you’ll never move on or know peace.”

You frowned. 

“Look. I understand why you’re doing this,” Rosé started, reaching for your hand. “But that doesn’t make it right or healthy. You have to set Jaehyun free.” 

Your eyes burned with tears again. “What if he hates me?”

“He won’t,” Rosé told you sternly, as if she knew it for a fact. “Jaehyun is your friend before anything. I think you’d have to slap his mother for him to hate you.”

You chuckled. Jaehyun was a Mama’s boy. 

“Do the right thing,” she told you. 

“I will,” you sighed. “But can I stay here for the night?”

Rosé nudged you. “Of course. But don’t avoid Taeyong for too long. You need to apologize for what you said.”

You nodded. Tomorrow you would make everything right. You owed it to everyone around you. 

Literally. You and Taeyong made quite the commotion earlier. It seemed that raising hell was one of your strengths. 

In the morning, you arranged a spot for you and Jaehyun to meet and gave him a call. Last night you texted him last-minute to notify him that you’d be spending the night with Rosé. 

It didn’t take a genius to put together what you had in mind, and you didn’t know whether that was a negative or positive thing. 

Waiting for Jaehyun made you dangerously antsy. You silently hoped the ocean would sweep you under and swallow you whole, never to be seen again. Last night had given you the final push to do what was necessary, but that made it no simpler a task. You were a bundle of nerves, sweat beading at your forehead. 

Thank God, you thought when you saw Jaehyun finally turning the corner. Any longer and you would faint. 

“Good morning,” Jaehyun greeted, casting you a curious look. 

“Good morning. Your favorite,” you said, handing him a cup of coffee made exactly the way he liked it. 

Jaehyun grabbed the cup graciously. “Thank you. You said there’s something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Um, yeah,” you said, rubbing your neck. “You might want to sit down.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent when he said, “You’re breaking up with me.”

Your eyes flickered with surprise, but you stammered, “Yeah, I… I am. Listen, Jaehyun. You’re a great guy, but I’d be lying if I said my heart wasn’t in a different place.”

“I know.” 

“And I know this is sudden, but…,” you trailed off, processing what he had said. “You know?” 

It alarmed you that Jaehyun was completely chill. You half expected him to snap at any given moment. “You have always felt more like a friend to me than a girlfriend. I have known for some time that there was something missing in our relationship. It’s not hard to tell that we’re both thinking about different people when we make love to each other.”

Now you were completely confused. “Both?” 

Perfectly on cue, no other than Rosé waltzed up to you, smiling innocently. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you put the pieces together. 

All of the signs had been there. In hindsight, given the amount of time the pair spent together, neither of them were exactly subtle. But you were too engrossed in your Taeyong fiasco to notice what was happening squarely under your nose. 

You scrambled for words. “You…”

Rosé smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, hon. Don’t be too mad. We did nothing you and Taeyong already haven’t.”

It ended up being you that needed to sit down. You shook your head, in disbelief. You weren’t hurt, but you were in shock. “How?” 

“Well, like I said, I already knew something was missing in our relationship. A couple years ago, I started talking to Rosé. We agreed not to let things get too serious until you and I broke up,” Jaehyun explained. 

No wonder Rosé had been trying to pry you off of Jaehyun and into Taeyong’s arms. She wanted him for herself. Everything she told you last night was because she already knew that Jaehyun had found another girl and was expecting your relationship to fall apart any moment now.

Love has no expiration date. Some people spend their whole lives hopelessly in love with the same person. Had she been talking about herself?

Figuring you had nothing to add, Jaehyun diplomatically added, “I don’t want this to put a dent in either of our friendships.”

You peered up at him, brow cocked. “Are you kidding? I shouldn’t be this happy that my boyfriend has been talking to my friend behind my back but I am. I was afraid you were going to despise me indefinitely.” 

“You aren’t exactly a saint either,” Rosé said lightheartedly. 

“I know,” you sighed, then turned back to Jaehyun. “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun was unbothered and gave you a playful nudge. “Let’s call it even.” 

You smiled. With that burden out of the way, you could breathe a little easier. But your eyes grew wide as you remembered you had one more person you needed to talk to. 

“Do either of you know where Taeyong is?” 

“He’s where you would find any other crabby Cancer,” Rosé replied, totally amused. 

You bid Rosé and Jaehyun goodbye and made a beeline for the beach. 

Spotting Taeyong took no time at all. He stood at the shore with his feet smothered in the sand. His body faced the ocean, but you could recognize that back anywhere. Your fingernails had become very familiar with it as well. 

Abandoning your shoes by a beach chair, you began to chase after him, bare feet roaming hot sand. “Taeyong!” 

Taeyong knew the sound of your voice and warmth spread through his chest when he heard it. He turned around, met with the sight of you looking ready to pounce on him. 

“Walk the shore with me?” you asked, chest heaving for breath. 

His voice was small. “Sure.”

The two of you walked in deafening silence. You nervously wracked your brain, searching for the right words to say. They never came. Your mouth had so much to say last night and now you were running on empty. 

Deciding to go with the flow, you inhaled and exhaled. “I broke up with Jaehyun.”

Taeyong stiffened. “How did it go?” 

“Very amicably,” you replied, recalling the unbelievable scenario that had taken place merely moments ago. “Apparently, he and Rosé have been talking.”

Seeing as Taeyong had no comment, silence fell over you both again. 

“I owe you an apology,” you added a couple moments later. 

Taeyong folded his arms over his chest. “I’m waiting.”

Your breath got shaky. “I’m sorry for what I said last night. It was cruel and you didn’t deserve any of that. I love you, Taeyong. That’s all I want to do. And if there’s anything I can do to make it better, let me know.”

“Be mine.”

You slipped your finger through his. “I am yours. Every part of me. My heart beats for you, Taeyong.”

Taeyong couldn’t control himself for another second and leaned over to kiss you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, in front of the whole world, where almost anyone and everyone could see you. Not that either of you seemed to care. You wanted the entire universe to know that you belonged to each other. 

Noting that you weren't trying to shy away, Taeyong kissed you even harder. You moaned into his mouth, a noise that drove him positively insane. 

Your now-boyfriend was high on the realization that he could now kiss you whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. You were his, and he would make sure no one ever forgot. It caught you completely off guard when Taeyong attached his lips to your neck, and you sucked in a gasp, numb as his tongue warmed your weak spot. 

Taeyong smirked. He still remembered where it was. You used to go through hell and back to cover the marks he left on your neck and collarbone, though now you had nothing to hide. 

Before it got too far, you pulled away and said, “Mm, let’s not get banned from the resort. Can I come to your room tonight?”

Taeyong knew what that meant. “You know the way.”

For the rest of the day, you had an indestructible smile on your face. You had made out with Taeyong for all to see before noon, no less - and it was incredible. 

And when night fell, surely enough, you were at his door. 

Taeyong wasted no time in sweeping you inside, shutting the door and pressing your back into the surface. You gasped, and had a split second to react before he smashed his lips against yours. You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes and letting love and lust aid you. 

Your body burned with want. Never had you needed anything so desperately. You wanted Taeyong and you wanted him now. 

“Fuck,” you moaned when Taeyong raked his teeth over your neck. “Fuck me.”

You both raced to the bed, shredding each other of your clothes messily. They were a mess in his room when you were finished, not even in a heap on the floor, but carelessly tossed and scattered across his room to never be seen again. The air was chill, but it was a perfect contrast to your bodies, scorching with arousal. 

Wanting to see your face while he was inside you, Taeyong made you lay on your back before he fucked you. 

Taeyong cursed himself when he realized he had no condoms. Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting at all to fuck his best friend turned girlfriend. 

“You don’t need a condom, baby. Just fuck me,” you purred, spreading your legs as if to entice him further. 

Your boyfriend was half a second away from becoming a ferocious animal. The mere thought of fucking you full of his cum again was enough to deplete his sanity. “Did you let Jay fuck you raw?” he growled, needing to know. 

You shook your head. “Never. Only you.”

Satisfied, Taeyong inched between your parted legs, mouth watering at how eager you were for him and the sight of your wet cunt on display for his eyes alone. He wanted to destroy you, but that was if you didn’t leave him in ruins first. 

Taeyong glided his cock to and fro on your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip every time he brushed your clit, sensitive and tender, and at one point you determined the teasing had to be deliberate. 

You sucked in a gasp when he finally began to push inside, teeth clamping harder. Any moment now, they would be damp with blood. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as soon as you were filled to the core, every inch of him swallowed by your non-loosening cunt. The grip was deathly, as if you refused to let him go. It tore a mean growl out of him that only made you clamp around him even tighter. 

Taeyong set a hurried rhythm that made the bed tremble with his movements. He wanted to be slow, wanted to draw it out, but the way you gripped him so warmly and tight said otherwise. His body was on autopilot, driven by impulse and desire. 

Every time he thrusted in, you whimpered. You had been counting down the hours until you could finally have him, scrambling for distraction after distraction, and it was so worth it. 

“God,” you whimpered, standing at the threshold of insanity. 

Taeyong was right behind you. Wherever you went, he was hot on your heels. Under your spell, he would follow you into a ring of fire. 

Metaphorically speaking, he was already balls deep inside one. 

Heat split you right down the middle. Nothing less than earth-shattering. It was a prominent fact that Taeyong had enjoyed both inflicting and watching you come apart under his heel. You were stranded at the very eye of a pleasure-induced vortex, with no top and no bottom. No start and no finish.

Just never-ending pleasure.

“I missed this,” Taeyong growled, making your breath crawl in your throat. “I missed you.”

You searched tirelessly for the strength to speak. “Me, too,” you croaked. 

A sigh of pleasure parted your lips as Taeyong continued to rock inside you. You were in disbelief that you could have ever given this up - given him up. Surely, you had to have been out of your mind. 

Taeyong knew your body like nobody else. Every scar, every strength, every weakness - the knowledge lay awake in the palms of his hands. You had been ignorant of how intimate it was until you fell for him, and now it was unignorable. The depths of the power he had over you. 

Little did you know, you had the same power over him. His fate lied in your hands. He was vulnerable to you in ways the rest of the world would never see. 

In the same way that he owned you, you owned him. 

“God, you’re amazing,” Taeyong moaned, every piece of his self-control floating in the ocean somewhere. As was yours. 

Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes. You were being reduced to tears. To be under Taeyong again, it felt natural and whole. Like this was how it was meant to be. 

Your noises were spiraling out of control. Taeyong made it all too easy to forget that other people existed in this great, huge world. In your mind, it was only you and him. 

Taeyong clamped a palm over your mouth and shushed you. “Quiet, baby. You’ll make somebody mad.”

He was making you mad. 

You clenched the sheets in your fists to anchor yourself, but even the bed was giving way to his lack of mercy. Your sounds were smothered by his palm, but you were crying out his name and he could tell. 

Taeyong proudly watched the sight of you convulsing beneath him, breasts bouncing and your skin beading with glimmering sweat. In the same vein, sweat gathered at his forehead and his chest heaved. You were making a mess of the sheets - making a mess of each other. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, pulse speeding as you neared release. 

However close you were, Taeyong was likely even closer, and he stuffed a hand between your warm legs, toying with your clit. Your response was instant, legs instinctively trying to close, but Taeyong moved his hand that was clamped over your mouth and gripped your thighs tightly. You watched his biceps seal your movement, taut with muscle. 

You could merely squirm, unable to remain still. Taeyong knew exactly which buttons to mash. You were going to fall apart in record time. 

“Let go with me,” Taeyong pleaded, endeavoring to coax you into an orgasm. “Please, baby.” 

You were so lost, so tangled in his web. Like a fly to a spider. You knew you were doomed then, but you had no room to desire actual release; only the kind that set your soul free.

And a billion emotions with it.

Your bodies moved in league with one another, you arching into him. You were nothing short of restless. Orgasm was calling your name in a chant, sweet and honey-like. It was impossible to ignore what your entire body yearned for. 

You surrendered, shuddering with climax. Taeyong had to lock his palm over your mouth again, smothering the scream you made as orgasm reduced you to only ecstasy. Your eyes closed as your lips tore open, your heart thumping mightily in your chest. You were scorching all over, skin on fire. 

Taeyong came not a moment later, cock twitching with climax. His teeth clamped into his bottom lip, and the growl that slipped between made you feel as if you could cum again on command. He anchored himself with his hands on your waist as his orgasm tore something absolutely inhuman out of him. 

The feeling of his cum stuffing you full made you moan. It made you feel whole and complete. You were limp against the mattress, lips parted in shallow breaths as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Taeyong slackened, collapsing at your side once sated. Meanwhile, you fought a smile as you felt his release trickling warmly down your legs and thighs. 

Taeyong’s first instinct was to check up on you, eyes big and starry as he asked, “Are you okay?“

You sighed, “Dunno. I think you broke me.”

His face tensed with concern and you busted into laughter. 

“I’m kidding,” you said, pressing a brief but reassuring kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m all good, baby.”

Taeyong smiled softly. A moment of silence passed, but it was pleasant. You listened to the sounds of each other’s breath, comforted because it was proof that you were there. Neither of you wanted to move or leave, content to merely be in the presence of one another.

Taeyong had you and you had Taeyong. That was all you needed. 

“Tell me you’ll stay,” Taeyong said, breaking the silence first. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Like he was unsatisfied, Taeyong added, “Tell me you’ll never leave.”

“I’ll never, ever leave you. You have my word on that,” you promised solemnly. “I don’t want to pretend anymore, Taeyong. I love you.” 

Taeyong’s heart pounded with both awe and ache. His fingers laced through yours and squeezed comfortably. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I promise.”

You both lay comfortably in each other’s embrace, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat spelling your name. 

The morning you all had to check out of the hotel, you leaned your back against your car, facing the resort fondly. It had been one hell of a week here, but you were appreciative. 

As always, Taeyong was right at your side. 

“What have we both learned from this trip?” 

“We both run from our issues like cowards,” Taeyong drawled, a wry smile on his face. 

“Mm. How compatible are we,” you deadpanned. 

Taeyong stole a quick kiss and snickered. “Very.” 

Yesterday you announced to your mutual group of friends that you were dating, as well as the fact that Rosé and Jaehyun were dating now. Which - as expected - garnered a handful of mixed responses. It would definitely take some time to get used to. 

Not like you cared. For once you were contentedly in love. No more dwelling on the days of the past, wondering what could have and should have been if you would have done this or that. 

Taeyong seemed to have the same idea. His heartache finally subsided after years. It was him that had left, but you were the one that got away. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his body and resting your head on his chest. “I need you to know that.”

Taeyong was beaming. Never had he been more in love. You were his first, his last, and his everything in between. 

“I know,” Taeyong replied. His heart was at ease at last. “I will never forget it, baby.”

[lilbitdepressed27]

Jenna Ortega/ Fem!Bodyguard

Summary: you’re her bodyguard also g!preader

Warnings: bad smut prepare your self

WC: 1.7k

Author’s Note: it’s my first time (most likely my last) writing smut. Don’t know where this came from but hope y’all like it. Sorry for any mistakes. Also I have few too many unfinished drafts some of them being AU’s for Tara I’ll try to finish them as soon as possible. Or least finish one.

You stood a few inches away from the actress as she smiled and talked with a few fans. 'Never be too far from her. Keep her in arms length.' That had been a rule you always followed. The short six months that you've worked for her have been, different. You had joined the marines right after high school. Being in the marines for six years. You had been given the choice to renew your contract but you had declined. Figuring that six years was enough.

Now you worked as a bodyguard for a sweet actress. Jenna Ortega. Americas new it girl. So far you loved the job. Jenna was everything and more. Caring, kind and amazing. She was so kind to her fans, which was why you were behind her as she spoke with some. She had been talking with the small group of girls for the past few minutes. You looked down at your watch, the actresses had a tight schedule you had come to learn. Especially Americas it girl.

A small tap on her elbow was the signal. "Sorry guys but I have to go. It was nice meeting you." Jenna smiled and gave the four girls separate hugs. Thanking them and saying goodbye. Allowing you to lead her way.

"Bye Jenna! Bye Y/n!"

Strangers knowing your name had also been something you were now used to. You smiled at the girls and waved back. Leading Jenna away towards the building. It was a good thing it was a mostly empty parking lot. She had an interview but it was a video interview and she had it set back in her hotel room. It was the last thing she had scheduled for the day. You smiled slightly when she looked up at you, while you both waited for the elevator.

It wasn't long till you were in the hotel room. Closing and locking the door before you had your arms full of a short brunette.

"Finally. We're alone. How can I miss you so much when you're with me all day." Jenna complained her face hiding in your neck. She couldn't help but smile when she smelt your cologne. It was a sent she loved. The feeling of your strong arms wrapping around her waist as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The way you effortlessly picked her up. She had never felt so safe with anyone, not in the way she felt around you. From the very first moment she met you, she had known that it'd be easy being friends. She had not prepared herself to fall in love. Loving you was so free, so easy.

"Mmh I missed you to baby." You walked towards the bed and laid on your back. Jenna was quick to get comfortable on top, tuck her face into your neck. Stuffing her hands into your shirt. Smiling when you felt light kisses being placed on your pulse. Never did you think that by getting this job you'd find the love of your life.

"I can feel, how much you missed me."

Your breath hitched when you felt her grinding on your lap. Part of you hardening. Your hands moving to rest on the back of your head as you watched her grind on your lap. Bitting your lip at the sounds of her moans and whimpers. The way her nails dug into your stomach.

"Y-Y/n please." Her hips stuttered before trying to go faster. Her hands shaking a clear desperation of need, as she tried to unbuckle your pants. She looks up at you her eyes filled with lust and desire. "I-I need you."

"Now? baby you have an interview in a few minutes. Don't start something you can't finish." But just as you said that. You thought of something. Something that had you taking a grip of her wrists. Stopping her movement. Your length fell heavy on your stomach after you freed your self from your pants.

"Come on then. You know what to do." You knew exactly what you were doing. Was it risky? Yes. But did you love the thrill. Absolutely. You watched as she quickly pushed her panties to the side. Not bothering to take them off. It was a great thing she was wearing a skirt.

"FFuck." The overwhelming feeling of pure pleasure over took her body as she felt your tip grazing her clit. Then the stretch of your tip entering her. No matter how many times she was intimate with you, she'd never get used to your size. The need and want of always having you inside her was something she always craved. The feeling of your length stretching her out as she continued moving down until she bottom out. The ecstasy of it all.

You jerked your hips up, watching in satisfaction as she threw her head back the way her breathing hitched before the moans escaped her lips. The way her walls tightened around you as she continued to let out her screams of pleasure.

The sound of Jenna's phone ringing was heard throughout the room, "Answer the phone." Seeing the tremble of her body you knew she was close. But she had a job to do. So with that you gripped her hips. Halting her movements. You ignored the whine coming from her lips.

"Answer the phone. I won't ask again."

Knowing she couldn't argue she answered the phone. Her hand shaking, her hips instinctively twitching every few seconds. Like her hips had a mind of their own. "H-Hello?"

"Jenna the interview is in 5 minutes. Get your laptop set up, the link has been sent. I can go to your room to hel-No! I" A small moan escaping her lips, when you jerked your hips up. she was quick to cover it up with a cough. Eyes widening as she looked down at you. A smirk was what she got in return.

"I got it don't don't worry about it. I'll I'll see you soon." She hung up the phone throwing it to side.

"Y-Y/n baby please. Faster."

You knew it was a risk but your horniness was at an all time high. So you got the small foldable bed table. Putting it on your stomach. It already had her laptop.

"Nonono. I can't. I'll I'll just reschedule it."

"No. Do your interview or we will stop right now. Now be my good girl and do your job." Your hands squeezed her rear cheeks. Her soft flesh warm in your hands.

She could see how red she was. The thin layer of sweat was noticeable but not as much as she tried to focus on what the interviewer was saying. You were using her, your length still inside her. you stayed like that for a while, then you started to move. The shock of pleasure shot through her body, biting her lip so hard to keep in the moans that threatened to escape. She felt it again. And again. Every single twitch into her g-spot. It almost had her rolling her eyes in pleasure. But holding in the need to bounce into your length was starting become painful. She needed to come, needed for you to wreak her like you always did. The need for you to leave her satisfied and legs shaking from the strong orgasms. You never left her unsatisfied.

"You alright Jenna?" The interviewer asked when he got no response.

"Uh y-yea. Just think I'm coming down with a cold or s-something."

But then you started to fuck her slowly, her hips being held down by your strong hands. The pace was painfully slow.

"Oh a cold? I'm sorry to hear that. I'll try to wrap this up as quick as possible."

She covered her mouth with palm of her hand. Masking it as a yawn. As you found a steady but still careful pace. The pleasure she was feeling in this very moment was becoming too much. Just the thought of getting caught had her clenching on your length. The filthy thought stayed. What if people knew what was happening? The thought alone had her wanting to chase her orgasm more.

You on the other hand were having so much fun watching the actress struggle. Twitching your cock deep inside her, seeing her fight the pleasure as she tried to keep a straight face and answer the questions being asked. You could feel her wetness sliding down your cock. The way her thighs were trembling. Ah the self control that she was showing, it made you want test it even more.

Reaching your hand in between her legs, finding the swollen bundle of nerve and pinching it. Loving the muffled squeak that escaped her lips. Her underwear was completely soaked, the feeling of her clit in between your fingers, your own heart beat thumbing in your ears as her walls clenched your length the more you played with her clit.

Her knuckles were white from how tight she was holding the handles on the small laptop table.

"Okay Jenna that's it. Thank you for taking time out of your day to do this interview with me. I hope you get better soon."

"Th-Thank you. And thank you for having me." With a wave the interview was finally over. Slamming the laptop shut. She pushed the table off of you. Not caring that laptop was on the table as it fell on the floor. Her nails scratching your toned stomach. She couldn't take it anymore. She needed you, she needed you to move. The two orgasms that she had while she spoke to the interviewer were not enough. Although her thighs would say otherwise with how much they were shaking.

"Baby please, ffuck me."

The night was spent with rough but passionate love making. If someone asked her why she was walking weird the next day, she had ignored your smug look as she explained how she fell the day before. But she couldn’t deny that she was eager to do it again. The soreness be damned.

:)