#he'd accept being called coward over this. he'd take it with his head low and knowing that it's an appropriate adjective for him

[ccaptain]

In the Swarm Accident plot that I love so much, what hurts the most is that H:SR Kaeya chose the safety of the Express to hole himself in and ride out the effect of the attack that he endured, when he could have gone back home to Gallagher and received a more effective treatment and support.

He didn't, because while Kaeya considers this man as a father, he's also his mentor. He taught Kaeya to "kick ass" and that he's the one supposed to weaponize people's fears. Kaeya not going back home because he didn't wanted to see the possible disappointment in Gallagher's eyes after falling for the Swarm's trap brings me more pain than I can put into writing.

In his words, typed on his cellphone rather than said with a voice he no longer has:

[txt:] I'm supposed to be the one that frightens these things. Not the frightened one. [txt:] But I was. Still am. I'm scared. I've never been scared in my entire life. I always thought about how it would feel, and... [txt:] I can hear things in my brain that weren't here before. I don't WANT them. I don't want to hear them. I see them at the windows. They're waiting for me. [txt:] I know they aren't really there, and I'm still afraid that they're waiting for me. [txt:] Dad would be so disappointed in me. [txt:] He wouldn't tell me. He never tells me. He'd say that I did a good job regardless, but I know I didn't. [txt:] This wasn't even a job! I just went there on my own. I was having a good time. [txt:] He taught me better. [txt:] I should be stronger than this. [txt:] I tell myself that I'll be stronger next time... but I don't know if I will be.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

​🇮​’​🇲​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇦​​🇷​​🇲​​🇸​, ​🇮​’​🇲​ ​🇮​​🇳​ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​

...

(you can care for or about smth, an’ i suppose, while i tend to see bruce being softer in that regard than crane could ever be, he also might be quite meanie too. at least, when jon isn’t affected by fear toxin to the point, where he can barely function. so that’s when things can get a bit experimental! bruce historically likes asserting his ‘dominance’ over jonathan. an’ he also likes to daunt him. 

i did a few pieces of the bat babysitting spooked jon in the past, but i was thinking about times, when crane isn’t fight-y nor under the influence of ft, but he’d still be shaking / paranoid, bc it’s his natural instinct at that point to expect to be hit or smacked, even when he’s ‘behaving’. an’ it’s always a fright to not know what the bat is thinking. but then again, in some scenarios, he kinda almost wants to be roughed up. it’s the only constant contact he has with batman. an’ he savors *an’ fetishes* what he can. it might be a little smth, but it’s smth still. so he’d be waiting for it with a certain level of anticipation. when he was younger, just looking like an easy target was enough to get ‘that’ kind of attention. surely, it might work here too. if he looks pathetic enough. but i think, bruce can instantly tell when jonathan is actually scared, an’ when he’s scared, but also seemingly thrilled bc of it. an’ when it’s the second one, that’s a perfect opportunity to tease him. or as jon would call it, bully him. yet, this is the kind of bullying, he can get off on it. being teased by a handsome bat jock, who also doesn’t actually hurt him. or calls him any hurtful names. it’s almost a roleplay. safer grounds, with the only person, jon semi trusts. at least, when it comes to specific things. batman also the only person, who can actually tease jonathan about being scared, as no one else has the same amount *sort* of power over him. i imagine, that jonathan whimpers in the first art, while bruce softly tells him what a lil shaking coward he is, an’ it’s borderline a dirty talk, without any actual vulgarity in the mix. a fear play of sorts. 

*this set up is most likely to take place somewhere in the comicverse vs anywhere else, as comicverse jon is kinda ... well, he's a lil perv, who just gags for things, when it comes to batman. akrhamverse an' BTAS ones are a tad too proud to be openly asking for things. it would take way much coaxing with them.*

now, in comparison, johnny-boy is the real lean an’ mean. he’s less ‘nice’ about those moments of weakness. at least, usually. with time, he might find himself enjoying the privilege of being the one who is somewhat comforting for bruce’s psyche. so it's not only about getting inside his head, it's also about celebrating of already having a place there. even if not the one, he might have expected to. that's not smth that happens all the time, but it's smth that occurs regardless. be it by accident or bc his whole form is lanky an’ fairly easy to hold. but whatever it is, possess the bat’s fear in whatever form is always precious to jon. also bruce’s hair are kinda soft to touch, he would like this too, when he learns who is under the mask. it also a boost to his ego as well. just thinkin' that someone like batman might confinde in someone like him.

*the second art is also based more so on BTAS set up vs comicverse like the first one. i imagine, BTAS crane to be kinda more crass than comicverse one. an' he also plays dirty an' his possessive stick toward bruce is a tad more invasive so to speak. not to mention, that he's the only crane who low-key views batman as a brat of some sort. having an emotional leverage over him is his wet dream, basically. which is funny, bc it's mutual thing, even if crane refuses to accept it. but when he is quite in a pickle, he'd always cling to bruce as well.*)

[howdoesagrapewrites]

ooo if you don't mind me sliding a request into your inbox then how about a yandere pavitr and gayatri

𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙤𝙣

Cw: yandere/lovesick!Pavitr and Gayatri x gn!reader, obsessive behavior, delusion, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, mention of kidnapping

Notes: I'm so excited about this request ong

>Pavitr is delusional, he thinks all he does is for the sake of Mumbattan and his partners, he does not perceive his behavior as negative, and will react badly to being contradicted

>Gayatri in the other hand, is a little more self aware, enough to know your fight or flight response can be triggered anytime if they lack discretion with their more... Unconventional practices

>Pavitr is obsessive by nature, but as a yandere he's more on the protective side, he doesn't think you'd ever leave him, after all, you three have a perfect relationship (or so says his delusions) but he does worry about your safety

>Gayatri does worry about your safety, but her biggest fear is that any of you would leave, she's more relaxed about Pavitr because, well, he cannot physically be more in love, but you, you could leave, and she cannot allow that to be a possibility

>What I think gives them extra points as yanderes, is that they don't work as a duo, but as couple, they're madly in love with eachother just like they're head over heels for you, so you're less likely to question their actions when you see them interacting with the other just like they do with you

>Pavitr acts like a manipulator, but he isn't, he just voices his feelings to you, and it sounds like manipulation. But Gayatri is, she will use every tool on the box to keep you with them

>It's not something Gayatri enjoys, but she's more likely to get verbally aggressive in an emotional outburst than Pav

>Her words are most likely to be directed to you, but Pavitr also gets a piece of it sometimes

>"You're out all night and you don't even call! How am I suppose to trust you this way! How am I supposed to trust you with Y/N?! You're a cheater! A liar! You just want to leave us!" Tears spill from her eyes, yelling with a broken voice, Pavitr comes close to her and softly but firmly grabs her wrists so she can't hit him, she hugs her tightly until her breathing stabilizes, whispering how much he loves her, how much he loves being with you, how he'd be caught dead before even looking at someone else

>Pavitr is low-key a masochist, he feels terribly guilty when he fails to save people as spiderman, or when he has to leave you to go on patrol, so he accepts every mean thing you or Gayatri have to say, and he even feels a little comforted if you're upset about him leaving, because that means you love him just as much as he does

>Gayatri spoils you both so much, clothes, spa days, books, skincare, jewelry (and you know indian jewelry is 🔛🔝), whatever you want. She does this in hopes of making you dependent on her, but it's also because she loves gift giving even as a sane lover

>If ever so much as say the word "leave" or "break-up" they're both having full on panic attacks and clinging to you for dear life

>Although if it's really serious, Gayatri acts cold and mean to you, calling a liar and a coward, she'll try to calm Pavitr and glare at you, using his reaction to manipulate you and make you see how much of a bad person you are to make poor sweet Pav behave this way

>If you seem like you're up to something (maybe escaping) Gayatri would use her influence to tell everyone you're mad, that your words cannot be trusted as you are experiencing a really bad maniac episode, but it's okay, they still love you, and take you back

>This strategy is powerful and unless you have a really really trusted friend (that it's already difficult with how clingy they are) who would believe you, you're pretty much screwed, everyone you know will send you back to them

>In case you haven't noticed, Gayatri is definitely the one that would kidnap you, but she really wants you to stay by your own free will

>But of you did manage to escape from them, they'll search for you, Pavitr would be satisfied just stalking you and occasionally stealing your stuff, but Gayatri isn't

>"Baby, don't worry, they do love us, it's just that they are so confused, it's not their fault, we need to find them so they can be safe, Y/N cannot be trusted with their own safety" she kisses her boyfriend's forehead and calms him down so they can start looking for you already

>Now, if you're okay with their yandere tendencies, it's just heaven

>They're so attentive and will shower you with love and gifts every second of the day, they may even allow you to go outside alone (not for too long ofc)

>They're both extremely clingy and sometimes keep you bound to bed for cuddle sessions that last DAYS, don't worry about food, you can order whatever you want:3

>Gayatri may be more dangerous, but they're both at your feet, if you were a manipulative person, it's okay, they'll do whatever you want, just don't leave

>They both love to kiss you for hours, until your lips are bruised and you feel dizzy from the lack of air

>As long as you're docile, they're sweet partners who may have a few screws loose, but love you endlessly

[sparrow-stunned]

soft winter rain | yan childe x reader (x yan zhongli)

content warning: yandere, brief not sfw (suggestive), slight dubcon, possessive behaviour, references to stalking, unequal power dynamics, unhealthy relationship, etc. etc. reader discretion is advised.

notes: suddenly wanted a mafia au, and here we are. somehow zhongli snuck in at the last moment... he knew the entire time what was happening, so of course he'd sneak in here. don't know if i should continue, but it's an interesting au, so we'll see. (also, shameless plug that my comms are open, so if you wanna see something specific written by yours truly, my dms are open)

word count: 2.0k

There's this one customer at your tailor shop. He introduces himself as a businessman and calls himself Childe—a moniker, you're sure, because what kind of person would be named after a title so archaic? At first, you didn't care too much about the mysteries surrounding the man; being such a high-end store, having the occasional eccentric customer was nothing new. When one has enough money, anyone would let it get to their head a little. 

But the requests he makes are just a little too… specific for you to not notice. If could make this material dark enough to hide blood, he'd request, or I'd like an extra pocket here, big enough to hide some daggers or a pistol. Childe was rich enough to hire a bodyguard—no, an entire legion of bodyguards—so the requests didn't make any sense for a mere businessman.

And he would always make these requests in person, as if to gauge your reactions for any winces or shudders, fear or apprehension. 

Well, you haven't stayed in the business being a coward, and the man pays good money for his special requests, so you bite your tongue and smile placidly, following up his requests with questions of your own, suggestions of colour and design—never to ask his purposes for the clothes. Never to pry.

Childe must appreciate your silence on the matter though, because he makes sure to tip your services very well, sometimes even more than his actual bill. So when he begins to get more friendly with you, asking personal questions that you could never ask him, you indulge him. 

What did it matter if he knew your age, your favourite colour, your favourite food, your favourite genre of books? It’s not as if he’s going to use it for anything nefarious, other than to bring the occasional gifts, his voice proclaiming every time, Guess what I’ve brought for my favourite little tailor, some way too over-the-top luxurious chocolate or watch or phone. You try to reject his offers, trying to maintain your professional boundaries with this pushy client, but it would always be easier to just accept on account of how annoying he gets with the pestering. 

You don't take notice of how much closer the distance would become with each and every visit, how the gap between the two of you would shrink every time he dipped his head to speak into your ear, voice low and crooning. You’ve pushed back on his closeness many times, scolding him about personal space, sir, but he would always laugh. Hold up his hand and say, Okay, okay, I understand, even though he would do it again and again, to the point where you’ve gotten too used to it to even think about reprimanding him. 

Now, when he gets too close, you sigh and resign yourself to the occasional wandering hands that brush up against you—never quite in places that were inappropriate but close enough to send the back of your hair up in warning, like your hands, the small of your back, the exposed nape of your neck, followed by some excuse of you had something there, lint maybe? even though you were a tailor shop. When would you ever allow something as unbecoming as lint in your presence? Still, you tolerate it, because even though you had rich clientele, there were none that were as friendly or free with their money as Childe was, his funds always seeming limitless no matter what you quoted. 

You’ve also learned to disregard that sly gleam in his eyes every time you reveal let details that were a bit too personal slip from your tongue, such as where you were born, who was in your family, monotony loosening your tongue while you hum and take down his measurements, all the while trying to make casual conversation with him. 

Strangely enough, he begins showing up near you outside of work too, accidental meetings in your favourite coffee shop or in that cake shop you love to frequent on the weekends. You’d be checking your phone and he would tap you on the shoulder, making you jump from how silently he’d moved behind you. He’d chuckle in response. Always some kind of offhanded excuse, a common denominator of I didn’t know you shopped here too! What a coincidence, comrade. But since we’re already here, may I join you?

And after these instances, the questions would turn even stranger, even more intimate than they usually were, about whether you had any lovers, any enemies, any desires, any annoyances. You demur, trying even more to keep your personal divided from work, but with enough insistence, you eventually cave. Money didn’t rain from the sky, after all, and for some reason, business had been a little slow as of late. Even the long-time clients you usually had, when you’d phone them regarding their scheduled orders, would sound clipped and a little uneasy, as if you’d been stalking them or threatening them, which was just ridiculous. 

So when Childe asks you, Do you have any significant person in your life, little tailor? I’m just curious, you know. Can’t have other people poaching you from me now. You only sigh and say, No, sir. Can you tell me which patterned tie you’d prefer with this suit now?

And when he asks you if there was anyone you hated, any annoyances you’d like to be rid of, you would offhandedly mention some schoolyard bullies from your teenage years, or that one neighbour of yours who would always party too loudly at 4AM in the morning. That strange gleam would be back in Childe’s eyes as he nods and sympathizes with your little pet peeves, a stray murmur of It’d be a pity if something wasn’t done, wouldn���t it? If only there was someone who was trained in these matters… Hm? Why are you looking at me like that? I was only joking, comrade! Do I really look so dangerous to you?

Not to you, but you’ve seen the way he acts around others. Cold, haughty, and just the slightest bit too arrogant. But it’s not as if you can control what he says, so you just shrug it off. Strangely enough though, the names that you’d drop with your complaints would all vanish within the week that you bring it up. Always with a phone call before, of a hurried voice saying, I’m sorry for bothering you! I’ll never do it again, or talk to you again, or see you again! So please, don’t—!

You set down your phone afterward, stare at the ceiling, wondering why your life was falling apart and yet somehow going so well, after meeting this stranger of a client who wants more closeness than you knew how to give.

His gifts too, turn a little too intimate. Combs and earring and necklace adorned with jewels. Sometimes the same shade as his blue-grey eyes, sometimes the same shade as the red earring in his own ear, and when you put them away, say, They’re beautiful, but I can’t take it, he would then just leave it behind with his departure, you left staring at the glimmering translucent gems sitting at your countertop. 

And what could you do? 

You couldn’t displease him; he was quickly becoming your most valuable customer, one of the only ones left behind from the mass exodus that has happened to your customer base. Your shop was rarely ever visited now, left alone busy, and the only time words are ever spoken within its four walls is when his leather boots stride past your opened glass doors. It was as if your name, your shop, had been stamped onto some secret book, forever blacklisted by anyone who knew anything of the underground. But you didn’t know that, did you? You were just a simple tailor, trying to make due with a budget that increasingly depended on just one man.

So you sigh. Pick up the earring. Hold it up to your ear, comparing it to the simple gold studs you're wearing right now. They’re fancier, but they’re not you. But you still take out your simple earring, hook on the crimson earring in your right ear, because he wears his on the left, and resist the urge to flinch at how it looks, dangling next to your neck like a miniature ruby blade.

The next time Childe sees you, he breaks out into a smile and pats your head. "So you put it on after all," he says. "Should I take that as an acceptance then?"

And this time, his fingers strays down from your head to the curve of your back and then pivots to your hips. His head dips down, other gloved hand trailing against the curve of your jaw, lips about to meet yours, an invasion of new territory that leaves you stiff, even more helpless than usual. You don’t stop him as he nips at exposed flesh, don’t stop him as he breathes against your skin, don’t stop him as he holds you in his arms like a puppet. Even though it’s broad daylight, in the middle of your sunlit shop, you don’t say anything even as you feel something hard grinding against your clothed thigh, a soft grunt from his lips as he slips his hand up your shirt, a slow roll of his hips against you—

The bell at your door rings. Your gaze flies to the entrance, and Childe’s does too. 

There’s a man. Amber eyes, brown spiked hair that tapers off into a ponytail, gloved hands and an extremely well-designed suit—vicuna, your experienced eyes knew with just one glance—and he’s looking at you. Not Childe, but you. Curiosity in its orange-flecked depths, and a slightest hint of something you’ve also seen in Childe’s eyes.

“Zhongli-xiansheng,” Childe says, half a complaint and half a threat. “Did you have to come at such an inconvenient time?”

“I’ve let you run wild around these parts for so long, the least you could do is greet me properly,” the man named Zhongli says, smooth and baritone voice sending a shiver up your spine.

Childe notices the movement—when does he not notice anything about you—and pulls you even closer to him. Rests his chin on your head and says, “This person is important to me, xiansheng. Find your own.”

“I’ve not come to take your toy, Tartaglia,” Zhongli says easily. His gaze flickers to you, and you shrivel back. Childe clenches his hands around the span of your hips, almost hard enough to bruise. “I know how protective you are of what’s yours. But you haven’t been answering your phone. As your… business partner,” Zhongli decides on, after a moment of consideration, “I had become concerned. There had been a missive sent from our Inauzman operatives. We will need to address it promptly. You may have a new assignment.”

Childe makes a noise of disgust at the back of his throat that rumbles through you. “Do we have to do it right this moment, xiansheng? Can’t it wait…” He shoots you a glance of longing, blown pupils with a ring of blue, and you resist the urge to look away. Smile weakly in response. “...Just an hour later,” Childe purrs. And then adds on, “Or two. Best to give us three, just in case. Whatever unsavory things I’ll have to dirty my hands with can’t be that urgent, can it?”

Zhongli chuckles, a meaningful flicker of his eyes from Childe to you. “Not now,” he says finally as he turns around to leave. “You’ll have all the time in the world—but only after this meeting. So stop behaving like a dog in the midst of mating season. Come.”

"Hey! I resent that," Childe says, pouting as he drags himself off of you. Gives you a look of promise, intermingling of lust and possessiveness in his darkened eyes as he winks and presses a kiss to your cold cheeks. You blink, and he smooths out your hair before curling his thumb below your chin. “Wait for me, little tailor, hm? We wouldn’t want you to be running off, now,” he murmurs. 

“Yes,” you say, and even to your ears, your voice is weak, faltering. 

“Well, even if you run…” Childe laughs and follows after Zhongli, but not before tossing out, “I’d find you right away. You know that right? So, I'll be seeing you soon, little tailor. I promise.”

You remain in the sunlight until fading sunset, heart hammering at your ribs. Frozen in place, stuck waiting for a customer who'd return to you with bloodstained gloves and crimson-smeared jaw. But you didn't know that. You only knew that you were asked to wait. You had to wait.

So you do.

[getitinbusan]

10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love? 

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words:  4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up. 

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and  this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money. 

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity. 

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life? 

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free. 

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

JK

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day. 

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"  

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.  

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an  intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer. 

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.” 

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent. 

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways. 

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members.  He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.  

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed.  Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret. 

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever." 

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.  

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him. 

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later. 

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.   

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door. 

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna? 

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together. 

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him. 

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it. 

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never. 

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?  

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. " 

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them. 

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue. 

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath. 

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself. 

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever. 

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom. 

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished. 

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting. 

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan. 

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again. 

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? 

Picking up a pen you began writing… 

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn… 

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world. 

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror.  Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you." 

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light, 

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

[minghaoss-archive]

mercury• lee taeyong(m)

taeyong ruins you, in more ways than you'd expect.

1, part 2

"do not mistake this myth for love, that is a different kind of burning."

.......

Taeyong grants you every little thing you ask of him, be it his touch or his defense but you regret wishing him of something which risks you seeing him ever again.

Your head hurts as the memory sets in, the wine doing little to mitigate the choked sobs you’re accustomed to. This picture that you can’t take your eyes off, it’s all your fault.

A week ago

Hendery looks like he's holding in dragon's breath when he looks at you. You search his face, a thick lump caught in your throat. In the warm glow of the camp fire, his pinkish face looks beautiful, you think, he's beautiful, but it's a little to late for you to shower him in accolades.

In his twist of emotions of creased brows, swollen and bitten mouth, it's almost as if someone ran a stake through his heart, his fist is rolled up in a ball of pale knuckles. From the looks of it, you know if it were any other guy than Taeyong, he'd have punched a hole through their face but Hendery is only holding back because there was no way he'd go home with a few injuries and a broken heart. "Why?" He asks you, eyes welling up with tears, his voice rises and turns a few heads circling around the fire which resembles the ring of flame in Taeyong's pitch black irises. Taeyong watches his tattooed knuckles with much attention as if he'd put it to use soon. He rests his arm around Hendery's shoulder like they were the best of friends.

You shoot Taeyong a quick panicky look but the boy only pulls a sleek cigarette out and winks at you. As if he hadn't just given your boyfriend a jump scare not long ago. You sigh, he wasn't going to help you, you were alone in this.

"I..I.." you start, looking for words which might suffice for the pain you'd caused him. Your tongue rolls in your mouth, as if it had no intention of relaying any form of explanation for what you did. "Why?" He reiterates, squeezing your interlaced fingers so tight you're sure they might snap. "Hendery..you're hurting me." You whimper, you can feel the girl who'd been sitting in between Taeyong's legs stare at you with an inscrutable fear in her eyes.

There are a few of your classmates who watch the show with more attention than that is needed. "Well, you hurt me too." He says, his tone relentless as he raises his fingers entangled with yours. "Do you know what she did?" He says, scanning the dumbstruck audience you're amongst.

You look at Taeyong again, help me, you try to relay as you watch his face brighten in the flicker of a gaslight whilst he sets his cigarette alight with his spare hand. He doesn't look at you. Not once.

You let tears spring, and roll down your cheeks, your hand feels like it's being broken. You've spent the whole of your school life being invisible, unhurt, and away from the public eye. So when he's hellbound on dragging your reputation through the dirt, you feel like all the years independent of embarrassment has finally been accumulated and thrown at you all at once.

He drags each syllable of your name, holding your palms up in the cold air, he starts, his face twisted in an ugly snarl,

"She cheat-" Taeyong hooks his finger in Hendery's mouth and drags him backwards so his ear is pressed close enough to whisper. "I wouldn't do that, coward boy. I wouldn't do that if I were you." He takes his cigarette from his lips and drills its half lit head in the fabric of Hendery's pale blue jeans.

Your ex boyfriend whimpers, letting your fingers go, "but then again, I'm not chicken enough to be you." You watch in horror as Taeyong unhooks his finger, letting the poor boy's mouth go as he watches him fall from the theatrical show he was going to host. There's a black patch on Hendery's pants, there must be a bruise underneath.

He, unable to hide away from the embarrassment from the crowd he'd gathered, gets to his feet and attempts to leave. He feel like an actor who'd forgotten the lines to his own play. You drag yourself up and follow behind him, calling his name. He had hurt your hand a whole lot, he'd almost wrecked your image but it still didn't justify what you did to him. At least to you.

"Hendery, wait." You say, sprinting behind him. He doesn't relent in his lengthy steps, and you can hear the heavy weight of spikey boots follow behind you, you don't have to think twice as to determine who it is.

When Hendery halts in his steps, with his back turned against you and his palms at his waist, you bend down to touch your knees, catching your breath.

"Why did you do that to me? Was I not good enough?" He screams now, as you reach out to touch him but he leans away from your grasp.

You breathe in broken bits, heavily affected by the sprint. "You were, you were." You lie, attempting to assuage him. You're guilty, it felt terrible to look at him like that. Hurt plastered across his face. You did this to him. “I-I’m sorry.” You choke out, watching him grimace at the word. “Fuck your sorry.” He spits, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Let’s go back, ______.” Taeyong’s palm presses against your shoulder blade as he attempts to take you away. “Oh and look who’s here to bring you back. Your knight in shining armor.” Hendery spits back you, mocking you as he emotes his anger in a less than decent manner while shoving his hands in the air.

“You know what, I should’ve known that you were such a fucking slut.” You let your voice crack at that, “Always knew you had a sickly obsession with this guy, saw how you ogled him, freak.” You feel like someone had stripped you naked and pushed you in a crowd. What will Taeyong think of you now, will he really see you the same way as he did before?

“I’m not..I’m not a freak.” You whimper but his cruel words don’t stop at that. “No wonder no one fucked you for so long.” You hold your palm against your mouth, a muffled pained cry barely making past your shivering lips. Hendery looks unapologetic, like he wants to tear you apart with his words.

He eyes Taeyong, seething at the pair of you. A dry chuckle escapes Taeyong’s lips.

You should’ve seen it coming, from the numerous years that you’ve known Taeyong going around school with bruises, with a reputation of beating people into a pulp, a pulp that barely made it alive to see him again.

Taeyong lunges at the boy, his fist landing at his squared jaw with so much force that Hendery growls out like a wild animal. Your vision clouds as you fail to wipe at the burning tears that escape at a sight you can hardly make out.

You watch Taeyong’s broad back shift as he continues to punch Hendery’s face like it was something he had waited for all his life. It’s sick how you feel pleased with the way he’s beating the other boy up, however you berate yourself before this emotion overtakes you. You look back at the circle of your classmates and are relieved to see that most of them cannot hear you over the loud boom of music. No one knew what you did and frankly, no one cared.

You had bigger issues at hand, rather, given the pace of his hits, you’re sure Hendery won’t make it, not when he’s wailing like an injured dog. You attempt to push Taeyong away weakly, “Stop it..stop hurting him, you’ll kill him, Taeyong, stop.”

In the split second, you’re met with the acrid sight of Hendery’s bloody face as Taeyong rolls off of his body at the weight of your words, you knew that it was wrong, you were terrified of Taeyong. Was this the person you’d made love to? Was this the person you fell in love with?

You look at him in shock as you cradle Hendery’s bloody head, he’s holding onto you like it’s the only way he can breathe. When Taeyong leans in to touch you, you flinch way. Sobbing into the injured body as you hold it close to your chest. He sees the look in your eyes and recoils.

“I never want to see you again.” You say these words without meaning to, with a moral obligation grabbing at your throat, you watch the love of your life’s face morph from hurt to anger to stoicism as he walks away from you with the same bruised knuckles that fascinated you for so long.

He accepts your wish like any other.

Today

You look at the picture on your Instagram feed again and again again. Taeyong’s palms are pressed against some girl’s waist. His black hair falls over his right eye, an eye which is guarded by a freshly cut brow slit.

You wonder if he’s forgotten you. If he really knew that even if you had dragged Hendery to the hospital, that your heart was still with Lee Taeyong as it was that day at the cabin. You wonder if he called someone else his angel. If he could be call you his baby again.

Because you don’t want him to be someone else’s.

You wonder and wonder and you drag your drunk body up Taeyong’s apartment, you wonder and you knock.

As if he’s been waiting right there for you, he pushes the door open, not inviting you in. He watches you with his fingers splayed on his door. He’s wearing a glittery black tank top. One which would’ve made any other man look like a badly designed disco ball but not him-oh no, he looked like he belonged in this outfit, like it was his skin, like he was born in it.

“What do you want?” You wince at the icy tone of his voice, attempting to lean your head against the door but the man pushes it away from your access.

You feel a lump roll in your throat from the way he speaks to you, the mischievous glint in his eyes long gone, he does not look at you with the want he did before. This epiphany births a hurt in your chest.

He looks at your outfits, teeth clambering down on his now pierced bottom lip. He looks like he’s suppressing something you can’t make out in the low lighting. You’re dressed in a black skirt and a cropped black shirt, your attires are matched accidentally, your cheeks burn in embarrassment, maybe he really did think you were the freak Hendery accused you of being.

“I..I ..did.. not think it through when I said I didn’t want to see you again.” You close your eyes at the confession, watching as he looks at you like a predator would at his prey, you almost smile at this change.

“So?” Taeyong’s face falls into an impassive mask, he looks furious, those fiery ringlets in his eyes glimmer for a second. “I want to see you. I want to see you everyday.”

He nods, like your admission had no effect on him. “Thanks. Anything else you want?” You frown, jutting your lip out dramatically when he attempts to close the door. “I want you.” You whisper and the spark in his eyes appear. The omnipresent glint in his feautures is reborn, “I want to be your ang-” he pushes you against the open door and, drags you to him with the loops in your skirt’s waist.

When he kisses you, it sets your body alight like it did the first time he’d touched you, you moan into his mouth, attempting to push your fingers into his hair, which he presses over your head. His tongue is hot on yours and his body radiates heat like a tropical country would. He smells of gasoline, he tastes of coffee, he’s just as you remembered and just as you loved.

When he pulls away, you look at your feet, and he cages you between his body, his forehead pressed to the crown of your head. “I missed you.” He says, dragging the cool material of his rings along your exposed thighs as he hauls you up and wraps your legs around his lithe hips.

You groan in his touch.

Your stomach coiling, your intestines twisting in the warmth that spread out through out your tummy.

He drags you to his room, adorned by posters of rock bands you hardly recognize as he flings you to his gray bed in between wet kisses. He crawls over your body, kissing the base of your throat. You bask in the warmth of the severity of his heated touches, his mouth, his charcoal eyes and that scent of him that you missed so much.

You fall and fall into a pit so deep that you knew there was no going out. Taeyong had managed to ruin you, spoil you and every time he touched you, you felt like that Phoenix engraved into his honey skin, you felt like you might expode into flames.

Your hips roll into each other and the feeling of completion washes over you one more time.

“Ride me.” He says, his name you whisper in his ear. “I love .. I love the sound of my name on your tongue, angel, my angel.” He says. Your arms wrap around his neck and his mouth falls open at your lips, he whimpers, resting his hand back on the mattress as he leans back. His idle fingers squeeze your sides. "Fuck.. sweetheart. I missed you so much." He says, the bed groaning under your bodies. Your insides twist as you near your orgasm in a flash. Taeyong moans, his mouth on yours, hi fingers all over your body, as he kisses you with so much ardour that you feel like your eyes may roll back into your skull.

"Baby. You're gonna fucking drive me crazy." He says, scrunching his eyebrows upwards as he pushes his cum into your core. "Take me, darling, all of me." His voice is drops a few octaves, deep, and throaty, you kiss him again.

Taeyong always grants your wishes.

........

The night goes away in a blur, in the torment of the summer heat as your sleepy body sticks to Taeyong, the smell of sweat and the sound of heavy breathing is the only invader in his room. You watch him kiss your knuckles, you watch him look at you with love in his eyes and you watch his eyelids droop, with his tattoed arm wrapped around your waist and the sound of your heart beat resonating in his ears.

That night you fall asleep next to Taeyong, only to be woken by the obnoxious buzz of your phone, there’s a text which robs the color off of your face, ‘I know what you did.’ It says, the number anonymous. A video attached to the white box.

You press play with clammy fingers.

It’s the cabin, it’s the two of you. It’s a video. It’s your body. It's your voice. Your moans. "Taeyong."

Someone was out to ruin your life.

You sit up in horror, crying into your palm. The lift of your body had woken Taeyong. He narrows his eyes at the blue glow of your device. His gaze flits between your phone and your petrified face before he seizes the device from you.

You watch as he reddens in fury, deciding the fate of the now broken phone as he throws it against the black plaster of his walls. “I’m going to kill him.” He sneers, his teeth grinded together and nostrils flairing and

you know that, truly, this time, he might.