#i can't go back. i still love them but i can't enjoy it anymore

[bvidzsoo]

You can run but you can't hide

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: vampire hunter!Jeong Yunho x vampire!female reader

𓇬 Warning: rather suggestive, gore, blood, violence, death, murder, lot's of blood drinking, manhandling, toxic relationship, lots of hate ngl, maybe some medical inaccuracies, slight power dynamic? 𓇬 Word count: 25.8k 𓇬 Rating: mature 𓇬 Genre: vampire x vampire hunter romance, enemies to lovers, they've known each other for centuries, modern time setting, doctor!reader, cop!Yunho, smut, angst 𓇬 Summary: You thought your life ended with your sister's, but then you realised there was nothing sweeter than revenge. Finding the vampire hunter who had killed your sister proved to be easier than you had first anticipated, but you changed your plans last minute. Walking away after turning him into a vampire wasn't your smartest move, and you'd learn to profusely regret it.

A/N: Oh my, oh my, lovelies I'm back! Starting off the new year with this monster of a oneshot? Yup, this took me like two weeks to write, and I hope it's good and that you'll love it! ^^ I'm working on a Mingi mini-series, so look out for that! Let me know if I didn't tag something, and let me know what you thought of this piece! I appreciate your feedback lots. <3 I hope y'all had a lovely weekend, and honestly, huge shootout to @spiralala because if they didn't send in that ask, this oneshot wouldn't exist lmao, so if you read this, I hope you enjoy it! Man, my gallery is a shrine of Yunho performing that Oz thingy, istg I have a problem but he looked so hot that day ugh...see y'all again soon! ^^ divider

1822

            There was nothing more pleasant than hearing the writhing man’s moans on the floor, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clutched his forearm. His face was bruised from the blows he had taken prior, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as his smooth light blue velvet suit was all muddy and torn. The violin in the distance created a haunting ambivalence with the rattling wind, chilling you down to the bone…if you could feel it. I circled the man, his left hand still tightly clutching his silver stake, and a malicious chuckle tumbled past my lips. He looked pathetic laying in his own pool of blood, his pride not letting him beg for his life…yet. I could make any man beg; he wasn’t different. Once the venom started spreading through his bloodstream, he’d be screaming for me to put him out of his misery. If he begged nicely, I might make his demise quicker than planned.

“Look at you,” I snarled, lips curling into a disgusted smile as he blindly whacked his hand out, trying to aim for me uselessly, “So pathetic, so frail, so…human. Weren’t those serums supposed to make you strong?”

The man heaved a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. They were hazy and painted with pain, but the fire was still rampant in them, furious, and so ready to wreak havoc…if only he could, “I’m-I’m going to—ugh—I will kill you, monster.”

“Yeah? You will?” I chuckled, giving his torso a good kick, making the man cry out in pain. He tried to pull his legs to his chest, still gripping his silver stake, sweat beading his bruised face. He breathed through his mouth, his right hand convulsing as his jaw clenched, “When? Are you sure you can do that right now, darling?”

“Don’t—” But he couldn’t speak as a yell tore through his lips, his whole face going beat red as he trashed around on the cold forest floor. The leaves had long died, and snow was supposed to fall anytime. I watched as the man tried to regain some sanity, but his veins started blackening. The venom was spreading, once it reached his heart, he was a gone man.

“Don’t what?” I hissed, grabbing the layers of my skirt and bunching them up so that I could crouch down next to him. He tried stabbing at me pathetically, barely able to lift his arm anymore, so I kicked the stake out of his hand, sending it flying into the tree closest to us. It stuck into it, my jaw clenched as I watched it, wondering just how many of my fellow vampires’ lives it had taken. The man at my mercy was a vicious hunter, the best in their coven, and he had taken my sister’s life. He deserved no mercy nor forgiveness, and none would be given to him tonight. He had messed with the wrong vampire, I shall not stop until my sister is avenged, “I’ve dreamed of this moment, hunter. Want to know why?”

He spluttered words intangibly, and I gripped his thick black hair to yank his head back. His eyes flew open and he tried to trash away from me, but the venom had his body mobilized, “You think I don’t know?”

His words were barely a whisper, his throat no doubt on fire. His sheer willpower was impressive, others would’ve already succumbed to the excruciating pain. My eyebrows furrowed slightly, curious as much as confused. How could a mere mortal hold on for so long? I would’ve found it impressive if it was anyone else.

“Yeri.” The utterance of my sister’s name brought a painful stab to my frozen heart as if I was the one stabbed to death by the vampire hunter at my mercy. Her name leaving his lips felt like a sin, it made bile rise in my throat as my hands started shaking, paralyzing anger streaming through my bloodstream. He had no right saying her name, his smug smile despite the painful wince burned into the back of my mind. I moved fast without thinking, gripping his jaw into a crushing hold as the hunter’s eyes widened. He didn’t look confident anymore, a shuddering breath left his lips as his body started trembling. My sharp nails dug into his skin to draw more blood, and I relished in the fire that burned through my body, leaving me even more hungry for revenge, for justice.

“You know what?” I whispered through gritted teeth as our eyes bled into each other’s, our faces mere inches away as I yanked him up effortlessly. He moaned in pain and clutched at his bleeding bite wound, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to see, “I was going to kill you, to end your pathetic existence for once and for all.”

He gulped nervously, but he showed no fear on his face, making me even angrier that he was still holding out, acting like this was nothing. I wanted him to scream in pain, to beg for his life, and promise he’d do anything for me if I kept him alive…but the vampire hunter remained true to the tales told about him around campfires. He was unafraid, dedicated, focused, fierce, and unapologetic. To think he could’ve lived for another day if he hadn’t fallen for my trap was almost satisfying enough. The ball was beautiful, people inside the castle were drunk, causing mayhem to their liking. The hunter had been part of the celebrating people before I managed to lure him away, far away from any prying eyes. He was strong and had managed to cut me here and there in our tousle, but it was nothing compared to the cuts I had given him. Cuts that would stay with him for eternity. I smirked, watching as life slowly drained from his once handsome face.

“But you made me realise something, hunter,” I paused, making sure he could still hear me as his heartbeat started vanning, “Letting you die is no punishment to someone like you, it’s an honour. And I cannot let you have it after what you’ve done to my sister, Yunho…no, I will turn you into the monster you’ve hated your whole life. I’ll create something you were taught to hate, to hunt. And I’ll enjoy every single moment of it, hunter.”

Nothing but Yunho’s widening eyes with fear and desperation could’ve given me this immense satisfaction I felt as my words dawned on him, words sputtering past his lips, intangible and breathy as he tried to grasp for his psyche. But he was far too gone to try and save himself now, and I closed my eyes to drink in the broken pleas falling off his lips, the begging and panic that coursed through his body, so delicious, so thrilling to take it all in. I bit my bottom lip as I felt my fangs shift, poking past my lip as Yunho shook his head furiously, his eyes filled with tears. Their redness blurred with his tears was almost beautiful.

“No, don’t do it—please,Y/N, you can’t—”

“I can’t?”

His screams fell to deaf ears as my fangs pierced the pale smooth skin of his neck, drinking his rich and warm blood…at least what was left of it. Feeling his lax body in my arms reminded me of my sister’s numb body, and I ignored the burning of my chest as I sucked the blood out of his system, only to replace it with a piece of mine, forever part of me for I was his creator and him my genesis.

Current time

            It had always amused me that despite all the monsters lurking in the shadows, humans never learned from their mistakes. Nighttime in a big city made no difference to the daytime, the wicked still prowled, catching the innocent in their web of lies and tricks. And due to that, the hospital never slept at night. The electronics’ low buzz was like a constant ringing in my ears, I could hear it even when I was far away from the hectic environment. My forehead creased as I read through another file, wondering where Yeosang had gone when we still had so many patients whose data wasn’t placed into our database. On a night like tonight, busier than usual, we were short on staff, so I had no choice but to help out with the administrative work if I wasn’t needed in the ER. My office was far away from the hustle and bustle of the emergency room, but still close enough that I was easily reachable in case of an emergency. The clock on the wall kept ticking, and my head had started aching at some point in the night. I still haven't gotten used to the fluorescent lights and the strong smell of sanitiser even after sixty years of being in the field. I was, however, thankful that I managed to get over my bloodthirst.

I cannot say there hadn’t been incidents when I had just started working as a doctor, but it was easily explainable if you knew how to cover your tracks. Besides, my coven was influential enough to get me out of trouble if I managed to mess up even after all these years of practice. I sighed and reached for my thermos, taking a sip of the salty fresh blood I had borrowed just at the beginning of my shift. Nobody would notice, there were enough blood donors daily, allowing me to take a few blood bags for myself and my coven. With the changing of times, we also had to change and accommodate to the modern world. Life was a lot easier now, and if you kept a low profile and knew the right people, staying under the radar wasn’t too difficult. If there was anything I missed from the eighteen hundreds, however, it was the possibility of coming and going without anyone keeping tabs on you. Social media was a fun thing that I couldn’t fully enjoy, not unless I wanted the leader of our coven breathing down my neck and locking me away for a century or two. So, empty and blank accounts were the only way to go by if I wanted to watch those stupid, but hilarious, reels that my coworkers sent to each other. Nobody was supposed to know, but I had one follower, and that was Yeosang, easily the first human I had actually grown to somehow care for.

He was adorable yet fierce, very loyal, and the hardest-working person I had come across in the few years I had been alive. But speaking of Yeosang, I glanced at the clock again and wondered if he had decided to take his much-needed break. It was close to midnight, he would usually join me at this hour and eat his meal in silence while I typed away on my computer. I pushed the glasses higher up on the bridge of my nose and focused back on my task, knowing it was best if I got this over with before the next influx of patients came. I wasn’t in the mood to work afterhours tonight, our leader had come up with a new tradition solely for her own enjoyment, and I needed every wink of sleep I could get if I wanted to sit through a night of nostalgic vampires conversing about the rottenness of our current world…as if we weren’t part of what made it worse. The clock to my left beeped and I jumped as the door of my office suddenly slammed open, Yeosang’s frantic eyes falling on me.

“Doctor!” For such an angelic face, it would surprise everyone when they first heard his deep voice, “We need you down, there was a shootout close by and several police officers were injured. You are needed to take care of the less serious ones.”

Well, duty calls then. I pressed the power off button of the screen and took my glasses off, closing the buttons of my white gown as I followed after Yeosang. His heart was beating fast as he dodged the few people in the hallway, hurriedly leading the way as I kept up with his pace. There was no reason for us to take the elevator, so we quickly ran down the stairs and headed for the ER, which was once again filled with patients in need.

“Doctor Bae!” The head doctor yelled once he noticed me, Yeosang and I headed over, “Room three is yours, we will send the patient in as soon as we’ve got his information noted down.”

I nodded and headed for the private rooms just past the doctor, eyes set on the third room. Yeosang ran ahead and pulled the door to the side for me, and I thanked him quietly as I rushed in to wash my hands and quickly wear clean glows. The screen on the wall beeped and I looked up at it, reading the extent of the cop’s injury. He was grazed by one bullet while he needed another one taken out, stitches no doubt necessary. I nodded to myself and was about to mentally map out my actions when the door was pulled to the side and Yeosang’s comforting voice flooded the room.

“Right here, Doctor Bae will now take care of you.” The man’s back was to me, and Yeosang was already at the door, “I’ll be back to assist you, Doctor, but I’m needed at the front desk still.”

I ushered him out with a flick of my wrist, knowing that I was capable of taking care of the patient on my own. This wasn’t my first time stitching up bullet wounds, besides, if the man was able to walk inside on his own, he was doing better than I had first expected. The examination room wasn’t too big, so it took me barely three steps to cross over and come to a standstill in front of the patient. Mouth opening to ask for the place of the injury, I froze when my eyes finally fell on his face. The silence was eery in the room as the man’s head raised, one reddish eye staring back at me widely. His heartbeat stuttered, and his blood smelt fresh and—alive. He wasn’t supposed to have a heartbeat. My mouth dropped open as my eyes ran over his face, trying to make sense of the situation. He looked the same as all those years ago. Youthful and handsome, slopping nose and pouty lips, cheeks flushed and jawline prominent. One eye, however, was hidden behind a black eye patch, his dark blue hair framing it so people wouldn’t stare at him. And yet, the sight of the vampire hunter wouldn’t have been so shocking if he didn’t feel so…human.

Without thinking, I grabbed his chin and tilted his head back, eyes tracking his smooth neck. The bitemark was gone since it wasn’t the first one on his body, long healed, yet the paleness and coldness of his skin felt familiar under my fingertips. His jaw had clenched as he yanked his head out of my grip, his expression transparent for once. He was seething, it was easy to see the hatred in his one eye…another telltale that he was a vampire, which left me confused as to why his heart was still beating.

“Look at you,” My voice was quiet, almost disbelieving as I let my eyes roam over his sturdy body, “I thought you would’ve killed yourself once you awakened as a vampire, but no, you’re living like all those monsters you hunted.”

His jaw clenched as I smirked, something heavy settling over my chest. Was it satisfaction? Then why did I not feel any pride gazing upon him? Wasn’t I supposed to feel smug and fulfilled that my creation was right in front of me? A successful transition was rare, sometimes the venom destroyed the human if they were too weak physically or mentally. I hadn’t even stuck around to make sure Yunho would indeed transform into a vampire, I wasn’t interested enough to see it to the end. The thought of knowing that I had made him suffer as much as I had suffered upon the loss of my sister was enough…it was everything I needed. So, seeing him now, the same body and soul I had drained the life from, why wasn’t I over the moon to know he had made it? That he was punished and living the nightmare I had trapped him inside of.

The shouting voices outside the room snapped me into action, I was a doctor first and foremost here, and he was my patient. I would’ve loved watching his blood dry out of his body as I made his bullet wound worse, but I would have lost everything I had built so far. Besides, he was a vampire, that wouldn’t kill him. I grabbed the hem of his leather jacket, intending to yank it off him, but suddenly long fingers were wrapped around my wrist.

“What are you doing?” Yunho hissed, his one eye narrowing suspiciously. I paused and raised an eyebrow.

“Patching you up, since I’m a Doctor…” I trailed off, letting it hang in the air as Yunho scoffed, his grip tightening around my wrist. It didn’t hurt, but it would’ve crushed my bone if I was a human, “Why are you bleeding? Vampires don’t bleed like this.”

But Yunho didn’t answer, he just pushed off the bed, towering over me. Any vampire hunter coven would’ve scrambled to have Yunho with them, he was practically designed to be one. Intimidatingly tall with a strong build, able to hunt and good at combat. He was fierce and fast, he was so quiet even the vampires failed to hear him coming. The serum his coven had forced him to drink only enhanced his skills, making him stronger and quicker than a human was supposed to be. He bled like any other one but his wounds healed faster, his grip was of iron, able to snap anyone’s neck in two. I wasn’t scared of him, not now, not back then. I had taken care of him once and showed him that he wasn’t untouchable nor undestroyable like he was made to believe. The pure rage I had felt back then was nothing but a simmer now, but it only needed a little timber to set it off once again, destroying anything in its path.

“I’m like this because of you.” Yunho was breathing hard as he grabbed my arm with his other hand, gripping it a bit too forcefully. I didn’t flinch as I stared up at him, trying to keep my satisfied smirk at bay. Provoking an irate vampire was never smart, especially not a stronger and bigger one, “I’ve been looking for you, Y/N, and I’m going to destroy you now that I’ve found you. You and your coven too.”

I chuckled cynically, grabbing his wrist to squeeze it until his hand turned blue from the loss of circulation, “Oh, really, now? Is that all you’ve got? An empty little threat? I’m so—”

But I never got to finish my taunting as I was flung into the nearest wall, the breath knocked from my lungs as I collided with the strong surface. I caught myself quickly, though, and looked at Yunho unimpressed. Was this the best he got? He had done more damage as a human compared to this.

“That’s not how you treat your doctor, Yunho, should I sedate you?” The brush of wind touched my cheek as Yunho stood in front of me once again, perhaps impressively fast. I smiled at him, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Why don’t you sit down and—”

I gasped as my airways were constricted by a choking grip, the back of my head colliding with the wall as Yunho threw me up against it again, his fingers locked around my throat in a vice-like grip. My jaw clenched as I hissed at him, kneeling him in the groin. If this is how he wanted to play, I was going to give it to him. I kicked him in the stomach, sending him stumbling back as his eye narrowed again, darkness settling over it. I chuckled and ran towards him, throwing a punch that he easily dodged, but not so much the knee in his gut that had him groaning and hunching over. I chuckled and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back as he glared at me, “When will you learn that you can’t defeat me?”

Instead of an answer, an elbow came up and knocked my head back by the chin, making me bite my tongue painfully so. I hissed as my fangs poked past my bottom lips, letting Yunho know that I was triggered. Before I could get it back under control together with the fire in the pit of my stomach, he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me over to the medical table, grabbing the first thing he could…which was a scalpel that he held dangerously close to my eye.

“When will you stop underestimating me?” Yunho growled, and I tried to yank my head away, hands gripping the edge of the table, as one wrong move would have the scalpel in my eyeball, “I’m not a human anymore, Y/N.”

Before I could answer, the rattling of the door caught both of our attention. I sucked in a deep breath as the door started opening, Yeosang’s heartbeat pattern already familiar, “Doctor, I’m—”

But thankfully someone called his name out before he could pull the door open, “Gosh, okay—I’ll be with you in a second, Doctor Bae!”

“Who’s that little weasel?” Yunho leaned down, his hot breath hitting the side of my cheek, “Your little blood bag?”

“Watch your mouth.” I hissed and braced myself on the table as I forcefully yanked myself away and out of Yunho’s grip, kicking the back of his knees, and making him buckle forward. He was still holding the scalpel, so I yanked it out of his hand and held it to his neck as I yanked on his hair, “He’s a nurse, leave him alone.”

Yunho chuckled, grabbing my wrist and twisting it until I yelped, having to release him. He wasn’t even phased by the sharp knife cutting into his neck, fresh blood dribbling down his neck. His scent was sweet, almost intoxicating as my mouth started salivating. But I had no time to waste as Yunho twisted around, rising to his full height, grabbing me, only to fling me into the wall on the other side of the room. The door rattled as my body collided against it and a sharp pain shot up my spine, leaving me breathless as I lay on the floor, holding myself up by my arms.

“Did the modern age make you weak, Y/N?” Yunho taunted, his lips pulled into a vile sneer as he stalked towards me. I chuckled, brushing the hair out of my eyes as I looked up at him. Before I could answer, however, the door started opening again.

“Doctor, I—” I was up in a second, pushing the door closed and keeping it shut despite Yeosang’s struggle to open it.

“Get me gauze!” I called out, watching Yunho as he hadn’t stopped advancing towards me, “From my office!”

“But that’s too—”

“Now, Yeosang!” I shouted as Yunho snickered, grabbing me by my skull and squeezing. It wasn’t enough to crush it, but I winced as I tried to kneel him in the groin again, but he was smarter this time and knocked my leg almost out from underneath me with his. Then, very predictably, I was once again flung across the room, crashing into the machines and utility metal desk, a pained groan leaving my mouth as my side started throbbing.

“Doctor Bae?” Yeosang sounded alarmed as I heard his footsteps come closer once again, “Is everything—”

“Yes! Get me that gauze, now!” I shouted again, standing up and throwing Yunho a glare. I’ve had enough. I gritted my teeth as he chuckled, stalking towards me, no doubt wanting to throw me against another wall again. The room already looked like a mess, I couldn’t let him break even more expensive equipment. So, when he was close enough, I moved behind him before he could catch me, grabbing him by the hair and yanking as hard as I could as I veered him towards the examination table. I pressed his head against the cold metal and leaned forward, eyes set on the silver cutter I kept there for emergencies like this one. Yunho was trashing around like a wild animal in my hold, and I had to strain my muscles and use all the strength I had to keep him put with my body, but he thankfully went lax when the silver touched his cheek.

“You are done, do you hear me?” I hissed close to his ear, anger seeping into my voice, “I will not let you walk into my workplace and act like an animal. If you wish to kill me, fine, you can have your way outside the hospital.”

“A vampire having a conscience?” Yunho huffed, relaxing in my hold as I pressed the silver cutter deeper into his cheek to make a point.

“Times have changed, Yunho, but don’t think I have forgotten what you did.” I hissed and he shouldered me, making me step back, my grip falling from his hair. As he whirled around to face me, his face was red, his chest rising and falling rapidly. I didn’t drop the silver cutter even though it had started burning my skin too. It seems like Yunho didn’t take his time to train himself with silver, the cutter had left an angry red mark on his cheek.

“Oh, I’m glad you haven’t forgotten, Y/N.” He smirked, my stomach dropping, hatred blinding my mind, “I just regret not making it more painful for her, I wonder how much torture she could’ve taken before—”

The slap echoed in the trashed room as my chest fell and rose rapidly, my hands trembling as I tried to push the vision of Yeri’s numb body out of my mind. If I lost control in the hospital, everything would be compromised. We wouldn’t be able to just leave. I couldn’t let Yunho’s presence and words shake me up so hard, I was his creator and he’d never be able to dominate me…it’s not how things worked. Yunho slowly turned his head, glaring at me fiercely as he suddenly grabbed his side, wincing in pain. The black fabric was soft in my hand, and as I looked back up at his face, I realised I had yanked the eye patch off his face, now two round, but sharp eyes staring back at me. The eye that he had concealed looked normal, without any faults, until I looked closer. I still remember what Yunho’s human eyes looked like. They were a rich brown almost like dark chocolate, warm and deep, it was easy to get lost in them. And the concealed eye had remained the same as if his humanity had refused to let go of him. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to recall having come across something like this before, but I came up empty-handed. Was he a vampire? Or was he a human?

“What are you?” I whispered, eyebrows furrowing as fresh blood oozed out of Yunho’s bullet wound.

“The monster you had created.” He hissed, his fangs suddenly flashing as he opened his mouth, his reddish eye bright under the white fluorescent light. But his heart continued to beat and his blood continued to flow, his brown eye odd against all the anomalies of his being. Before I could patch him up, however, he whirled around and stumbled towards the door, having me race after him.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t need your help, I can heal just like you.”

And then the door was pulled open forcefully, rattling under Yunho’s strength. Yeosang was in the doorway, hand outstretched, and his eyes widened as he looked up at Yunho, then at me, confusion slowly overtaking his expression as he looked past us, and inside the examination room. The gauze I had asked for was in his hands, but he seemed lost for words.

“What—what happened?” He asked quietly, coming to Yunho’s aid when he stumbled forward, trying to leave the room. Before he could speak up and say anything, I chuckled and walked back inside the room, trying to tidy up the mess we had created.

“He’s a bit dizzy so he stumbled and fell.” Yeosang looked more confused as he held Yunho up, who was becoming paler by the second, “Don’t worry, he’s okay.”

“He doesn’t look okay, though,” Yeosang muttered and veered Yunho back inside the examination room.

“Just bring me water.” Yunho croaked out as he finally lay on the table, wincing as he tried to get rid of his leather jacket. Yeosang nodded and hurried towards the bottle of water, grabbing a clean cup for Yunho.

“Now stay silent and let me fix you.” I hissed under my breath as I tore his tee apart, eyebrows furrowing at the many scars littered across his abdomen. The first bullet had grazed his ribs and the other one was ledged in an otherwise life-threatening spot, but Yunho would be fine once I had extracted it. I made sure Yeosang didn’t see the second bullet as he handed Yunho his water, eyes sweeping over the room.

“I’ll try and fix up this place,” He muttered under his breath, giving me a questioning gaze. I nodded before I looked back at Yunho, who had started sweating. So much for playing the tough guy, he couldn’t even fix his problem without my help. But I didn’t forget what he had done to Yeri, and he wasn’t safe from the coven. They would hear about this, and I’d find out what caused him to turn into this half-looking human and vampire.

            The end of my shift came with the orange sun brimming the horizon. The hospital was relatively calm once the police department left, and because we had to keep up the appearances, Yunho was advised to return in a few days to get his stitches checked. I hadn’t actually stitched him up since his body was already healing by the time the bullet was out, but nobody had to know that. One look from him told me I wouldn’t return to my coven if any human found out about his true nature. It was ironic, wasn’t it? Having to hide amongst the creatures you once used to be, used to love and cherish. Now, there was no resemblance to the human he had once been, just the pure darkness of the creature he had succumbed to. I recognised the look in his eyes, I had stared at it many times in the mirror in the past, but for someone so desperate to preserve their humanity, it was disarming to see none of it left in him.

The sounds of the busy road became white noise as I got off the highway, the dirt road leading me far away from the lively city and deeper into the forest. A typical location for a vampire coven’s mansion, but it’s what worked best for us. Nobody bothered us here, and we didn’t bother others either…well, except for the few neighbours who shared our wish for solitude. But the houses were far paced out, we rarely saw each other. If the elderly couple had already died, I wouldn’t be able to tell…except that the light was on outside their porch, and the man was having his first cup of coffee for the day ahead of him. He raised the mug in a greeting and I made sure to wave at him, wondering when was the last time I did a wellness check on them. They had no family to take care of them, so, out of generosity, I would visit them every few months to make sure they were as healthy as possible.

The mansion came in sight as I drove towards the driveway, four garage doors hiding our other luxury vehicles. I was never one to show off our unlimited wealth, but our leader had an eye for collectable pieces and wasn’t shy to parade around the city with them. I parked just to the side and took a deep breath, closing my eyes as the car’s engine was killed, utter silence wrapping around me. I smelled like the sanitiser from the hospital, and my white boots were dirty from Yeosang accidentally stepping on them in his rush to help other officers once Yunho was taken care of. My wrists ached from having typed on the computer numerous patients data, but my skin was cold and smooth. I didn’t have to worry about growing bloodthirsty, not for another week. The fridge inside the mansion was stuffed with blood bags, so making up another lie as to why I’d have to check on the blood donors again wasn’t necessary for a good month. I had a feeling Yeosang was growing suspicious of me, he’s been by my side for four years, and without undermining his intelligence, I doubted he’d ever figure out I was a vampire. There were few clues he could catch onto, and he’s seen me in the daylight, so he couldn’t actually blame it on the fact that I only took night shifts…if it came down to that and I didn’t know better, I could also say he was a vampire too since he only took night shifts as well.

I flinched when I felt warmth on my face, and I blinked my eyes open, staring into the blinding rays of the rising sun. Another day had come, a new beginning for humans, and the moment to retreat for the monsters. I wondered if Yunho was capable of walking in the sun without feeling fatigued or nauseous, I wondered if he fed on blood or food like humans, and I wondered…why he was back just now. Was it sheer coincidence we had run into each other once again? Or was it the bond that connected us, somehow always leading us to each other in the end? I sighed and grabbed my purse and keys, getting out of the car and shivering at the cool breeze of the morning. Summer was a few months away, half of my coven might leave for the time being and retreat to colder places, but I couldn’t. I had a job and a life outside of being a vampire, I knew Yeosang would ask questions if I just up and left. In fact, I was more than sure he’d try to follow me. We had gone to a team dinner a long time ago, and in his drunken stupor, he had confessed that he’d follow me to the ends of the Earth because he trusted my judgment and expertise. Perhaps it was that moment which made me adore the frail human, wanting to make sure he was safe from other creatures like myself.

I locked the car and headed for the front entrance, listening to the gravel crunch underneath my boots. I could use my vampire speed, but there was something in me that wanted to enjoy the mundane things today. It’s not like I could shut off my powers and heightened senses, but I had control over them, and it came in handy quite often. If not because I had to appear human around the humans, then for all the things that went down inside the mansion. Fifteen people weren’t little nor much, but they each had needs and cravings that I honestly found no joy in overhearing anymore. Over two hundred years of housing together did that to you. For once, the mansion was silent as I entered it, locking the door after me since I knew nobody would leave the house until twilight. The property we lived on was huge, the mansion was probably capable of housing up to thirty people. I had no idea how our leader had found it, nor how she managed to convince the realtor to let us have it, but it was luxurious and somehow comfy still, I liked it. It looked a lot like those Pinterest vision boards I did for myself about a hypothetical small apartment in the heart of the city. I could leave the mansion, and step out of the motherly arms of the coven, but it wasn’t that easy.

They depended on me and I needed them. All my life, the vampire one at least, they were the closest thing to a family, they were the only constant in my life. I grew and learned with them and from them, they forgave my mistakes and rarely punished me, but maybe that was because they didn’t know what I had done all those years ago, in 1822. Nobody knew about Yunho anymore, the feared vampire hunter had just disappeared one day and his own coven had gone to war with ours, only to massively lose against us. Our coven had been bigger back then, some perished and others decided it was time to move on, but those who had a deep sense of loyalty and craved to belong somewhere were still here. I headed for the marble stairs, the interior just a tad bit colder than outside, my footsteps loud as I followed the stairs to the third floor, where most of our rooms were. We had maids and a few butlers, but that was only because our leader preferred blood fresh from the source, and to be honest, we were too lazy to keep the whole mansion clean, so we needed a little bit of help. The closer I got to my room, the more my stomach twisted with nerves and uncertainty. I couldn’t keep Yunho a secret anymore, not when he was so close to us and a very potent threat. I could tell he still hated our kind, and I knew just because he was one of us now didn’t stop him from wanting to kill us. And because he was a cop now, he could easily get rid of the coven without anyone raising any suspicions. I wished this was only about our safety, but his existence could be my sister’s salvation.

Knowing that the wisest thing to do now was let our leader know about Jeong Yunho, I stopped in front of her door and took a deep breath, telling myself that facing punishment was good if it meant Yeri could see another break of dawn. I raised my hand and knocked against Joohyun’s door, three times in the pattern that told her I was calling for a meeting, then hurried to my room to get rid of my things. I had left my gown at the hospital, but as I walked inside my en-suite bathroom, the stench of the disinfectant was sickening, so I quickly splashed water over my face and scrubbed my hands until they were raw. I pulled my hair in a low ponytail and changed out of my tight black blouse in exchange for a comfortable sweater that felt like a shield around my body once Joohyun’s sharp eyes were to stare me down. I knew I had to do this, it was for my sister. So, I left my room and hurried towards the meeting room, one floor below, not bothering to knock since I knew everyone who needed to be inside was already there. The heavy door opened easily under my hands, giving way to the dimly lit room with a long table in the middle. The floors and walls were covered in pure marble, glimmering in the yellowy light as I eyed the vampires sitting scarcely around the table.

Sooyoung, who was our financial advisor, looked like she had just been awakened, and I knew I’d get an earful for not letting her have her beauty sleep. Seungwan, who looked bored as her sharp nails clicked against the wooden table was busy sketching in her notebook, her hair a mess, and I wondered when was the last time she had gone to sleep. She was a renowned artist, and speculations were going around the internet that she was the reincarnation of a princess living in the 17th hundreds, her current photos compared to the paintings made of the princess. It didn’t take two to guess whether she was a reincarnation or not, those inside the coven knew the truth. Then Seulgi, who was glaring at me annoyed, didn’t even bother sitting down, her arms crossed over her chest. I wondered if she had ever come across Jeong Yunho without knowing his identity, she was the head chief of the police. She was probably supposed to head in right now and I was keeping her back, maybe that’s why she was so annoyed. Lastly, our leader, Joohyun, sat at the head of the table, expression gentle as her arms rested on the massive chair’s armrest. She looked tiny in that big chair, but then again, she had always been tiny.

“Will you explain why you’ve evoked us here?” Seulgi snapped, her annoyance spilling into her tone as I gulped, advancing further inside the room. Behind Joohyun, a thinly veiled curtain served as a divider. What was beyond it would’ve made my heart race in nervousness, the lump in my throat choking if I allowed myself to miss my sister too much.

“Sit down, Seulgi,” Joohyun muttered, still only looking at me, “You will give me a headache if you keep pacing around, your job isn’t more important than a council meeting.”

That seemed to get Seulgi to tense up, but she couldn’t say anything against Joohyun, so she took her seat close to hers, crossing a leg over the other as well as her arms across her chest. I gulped and stood at the other end of the table, gaining Seungwan’s attention as well as she stopped doodling. Sooyoung was more awake now, easily able to notice my hesitance since she had always been a good observer.

“You did something, didn’t you?” Sooyoung asked, narrowing her eyes in disdain. Joohyun raised her hand to silence everyone, looking around the room before she leaned forward, her long black hair silky and straight as it fell to her hips.

“Let her speak,” She snapped, raising an eyebrow, “Why did you invoke the council, Y/N?”

It was now or never; I couldn’t back out anymore. I licked my lips and pictured myself speaking to my boss, who was an old man, borderline insane but still an exceptional doctor. If I imagined I was speaking to him, who rivalled Joohyun’s sharp features, the words came a bit easier to speak. I lowered my eyes to the table and decided to tell them where it all started, “After Yeri was killed, I was on a rampage to find the hunter who had done that to her. It took me three years, but I found him, he was a Jeong, from the Jung hunter coven, and he was their most prised soldier. His name is Jeong Yunho, and he…he’s still alive. After I found him, I planned on killing him, but he said things that angered me and I didn’t go through with it, I bit him a second time and…left.”

“You left?” It was Seungwan asking, her eyebrows furrowed, her tone alarmed.

“Is this why that fucking vampire-hunting coven attacked us?” Sooyoung snapped, her sharp eyes burning into the side of my head as she stood up revolted.

“Enough, let her continue!” Joohyun snapped, and everyone settled back down as I pursed my lips, reluctantly looking up at Joohyun. Her expression gave nothing away, but she had one hand fisted and it was enough to tell me I was in trouble, big time.

“Yes, I left him there, and yes, that’s why the coven attacked us,” I admitted shamefully, even after all the time that had passed, I haven’t stopped feeling guilty for the loss I caused, but it was only fair. He had taken Yeri from us, I took him from the Jung’s.

“I’m just impressed you managed to take Jeong down,” Seulgi muttered, ignoring Joohyun’s sharp glare for interrupting me, “But I suppose something happened, otherwise you wouldn’t have admitted to trying to kill him.”

And she was right, I nodded a bit embarrassed, “Yeah, he’s…alive. And a vampire, but not really, I—it’s difficult to explain. When I bit him a second time, I knew he’d become a vampire but I didn’t stay there until the transformation went fully through, I felt the bond between us spark to life and ran off. Humans were also coming inside the forest for some reason, I couldn’t let them see me. But he’s back, and he’s not fully a vampire. He came in tonight with a bullet shot, he’s a cop, and his heart is still beating. He bleeds like humans and he doesn’t heal as fast as vampires, but he’s inhumanely strong and fast, and his eyes…one is crimson and the other brown. But he’s still youthful, he looks the same as back then, and he hasn’t aged one bit. He is a vampire, but he’s somehow also a human, and I…I don’t know. I made a mistake, and I have to fix it before it gets bad.”

“Yeah, you better.” Sooyoung snapped, her face red from anger, “If I knew you’d be this daft, I would’ve never transformed you.”

“I didn’t ask to be transformed!” I snapped, turning sharply to glare at Sooyoung, who deflated in her seat and looked away, “None of us did, Sooyoung, Yunho is the only one I transformed besides Yeri.”

A deafening silence settled over the room, however, it didn’t last long as Seulgi was swiping on her phone rapidly, her eyebrows more and more furrowed as seconds passed by, “You don’t mean this Jeong Yunho, do you?”

I gulped as she turned her phone, showing me his profile, his information written in small letters right underneath his picture, “That’s him.”

“He’s in my division, way too small to come in contact with me.” Seulgi muttered, turning her phone to look at it as Joohyun motioned to be handed the phone too, “He’s been an officer for six years, always gets the most brutal crime scenes, and does some private investigation from time to time. He’s also great undercover and refuses to work with partners, he’s quite promising, I cannot lie. A few other officers have been fighting over him to get him in their team, but he refuses them and says he wants to stay in my division. Do you think he knows who I am?”

“I doubt it,” I shook my head, pulling out the chair to sit down, “Unless he’s kept in contact with the Jung’s, who know our faces.”

“He hasn’t,” Joohyun spoke up, still staring at the photo, “The coven would’ve long killed him, it’s impossible he’s still in contact with them. But if he’s operating on his own, he’s a greater danger than the coven itself, he’s a rogue and they are dangerous. It’s good you told us, Y/N, even if he’s the fruit of your mistake, getting rid of him now is better than never.”

“We can’t get rid of him.” I whispered, but they all heard me as my eyes went past Joohyun, falling on the divider, “Not yet.”

“Why?” Seungwan asked confused, looking towards the divider as well, her eyes solemn as she stared longingly at it. Yeri was beyond the veil, I hoped she could hear us, hear me that I hadn’t given up on her, not now and not ever. If this didn’t work, I’d find another way to bring her back from her eternal slumber. I was a doctor, medicine was evolving in ways one could only dream about back in our days, I’d find a miracle and make her live again if I had to.

“There’s an ancient tale,” I gulped nervously, Joohyun’s eyes narrowed as the other three girls watched me closely, “That says if a vampire is placed in eternal slumber, their essence isn’t lost yet. We can save Yeri if we find her hunter and feed her their blood…the hunter who had tried to kill her was Yunho, and he’s here.”

“But he’s a vampire,” Joohyun spoke, finality to her tone as if she thought I was insane for bringing this tale up, “And the hunter needs to be human in order to bring the fallen vampire back, the blood needs to be fresh and untainted, which you had made sure isn’t anymore.”

“He is human, Joohyun!” I exclaimed, feeling desperation crawl up my chest, “Half human, but it’s still there. He could be useful, we could try at least. The tale doesn’t say anything will happen to the vampire if the ritual fails, no?”

Joohyun pursed her lips, glancing at Seulgi who looked uncertain, “Giving away our location and identities is very risky, Y/N. Even if nothing happens to Yeri if the ritual fails, we will suffer. Sure, he isn’t in contact with his coven anymore, but if you say his strength can rival ours, he’s a threat. I cannot risk exposing my whole coven to something like that, it’s enough that he knows you still exist. He’s too close to us, get rid of him before I interfere.”

I opened my mouth, ready to plead, but surprisingly, Sooyoung beat me to it, “It’s about Yeri, don’t you miss her too? I want to hear her joyful laughter again and look into her soulful eyes, our coven has been so cold ever since she died…and if we have such a high chance of bringing her back, why should we waste it, Joohyun? We could kill Yunho anytime, I can do it if nobody else wants to, I’ve taken men down twice his size and strength, I’m not afraid.”

“This isn’t about who’s afraid and who’s got more ego, Sooyoung!” Joohyun snapped, slamming her palm on the table. Seungwan jumped and looked down, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Everyone wants something, Joohyun,” She spoke up quietly, playing with her fingers, “He must want something too, maybe he’s looking for someone, maybe he wants to kill someone, if we find out what he wants, we could blackmail him into helping us. Think about it…”

“She’s not wrong,” Seulgi muttered under her breath, swiping left a call that seemed important by her exasperated sigh. Silence settled over our group as everyone looked at Joohyun, awaiting her final decision. She didn’t look pleased or trusting of our ideas, but I knew she missed Yeri just as much as the rest of us. She was my sister, but she was everyone else’s sister too. She was young when I had turned her in order to save her from sickness, she never really had the chance to grow up and become a woman, she was everyone’s little sister.

“Seulgi, find out everything about Jeong Yunho and bring the information to me in two days,” Joohyun’s tone was final, her jaw clenched. I tried to keep the smile off my face, but I was beyond ecstatic. Finally, we had a real chance of awakening Yeri, “Make sure the others don’t know much about this, especially not that he’s from the Jung coven and Y/N—he’s your responsibility. Keep an eye on him, find out more about his peculiar condition, and bring him to me when I say so. Everyone is dismissed.”

We stood at once, but I didn’t leave the room like the others, my feet carried me towards the thin veil. I pulled the curtain to the side and proceeded further inside, eyes falling on the altar that allowed Yeri’s body to rest upon. Her body was placed on silky cushions, a thin blanket pulled over her body to keep her warm despite her not needing it. I took a deep breath and neared her, staring down at her frail skin, with no wrinkles or blemishes on her face as her eyes remained closed. Her chest fell and rose, a dark splinter still in her, close to her heart, from where Yunho had attacked her. Her wavy blonde hair was faded and her lips were a light pink, making her look closer to a corpse than a living being. She was sicklier than even a vampire. I gulped and gingerly traced my fingers over her eyes, wishing to see the flutter and open, their familiar crimson just a distant memory.

“We’ll meet soon, Yeri, I promise,” I whispered and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, hoping she could feel it and hear my words too. She was beautiful, her white dress spilling off the altar as I committed her serene face to memory once again, then turned, my mind set to find Jeong Yunho and make him pay one last time.

            In all my six years of working at the hospital, I hadn’t bothered taking any days off . There was no reason for me to go on a vacation, I had already seen most of the world. Besides, I didn’t tire like humans, so really, there was no need for me to take days off. Besides, I felt it was my duty to be at the disposal of those humans that needed me. So, when I called in and told my boss that I would like to take the night off since a family emergency had come up, he was rather surprised but mostly happy. He even added that I should take off another day or two and have a quick relaxing trip while I was at that. If I thought more of it, I might take him up on his offer, but not to go on a relaxing trip…but to bring back my fallen sister. Yeosang, however, was less enthusiastic about my sudden absence.

“Wait, what do you mean something came up?” I could hear the confusion through the phone as I walked down the dimly lit streets, water splashing against my boots since it had rained not long ago. I hated the muddy smell of the earth after the rain, and especially all the worms that sought refuge above ground.

“Well, exactly that, Yeosang.” I answered amused, glaring at a drunken couple that was ready to fuck by the wall of a building on a rather busy street, even at this ungodly hour, “One of my family member’s dog died and…I need to attend the funeral.”

I hoped I didn’t jinx it, Sooyoung would have my head if anything happened to her lovely Bishon Maltez, Haetnimie. Yeosang paused, releasing a long sigh, then hummed, probably feeling bored all alone in my office. It was past midnight, so he must’ve already had his meal for the night, “I’m sorry to hear that, my condolences.”

“Yup, I will let her know,” I muttered half-heartedly, eyebrows furrowing when my eyes zeroed in on the neon sign above the door Yunho was just about to enter. Two days ago, Seulgi placed a heavy folder in front of Joohyun with all the necessary information about Jeong Yunho, and now, I was tasked with following him and finding out more about his ‘mundane’ life since there were very few records about it. He was rather good at keeping low-key, it was annoying. Not even the trace of a money transfer, I wondered how he did it. Thankfully to Seulgi, we still managed to get a basic background check on him, hence I knew his location now. His apartment was in a rather high-end part of the city, which was surprising since I thought he’d want to stay away from humans. He often bought beer after being finished with his shift and conversed with the old lady at the laundry mat, who lived in the less fancy apartment complex next to his. He also liked petting stray kittens, even if they hissed at him at first. I thought animals sensed evil, but then again…Sooyoung did own a dog too, and she was an angel, liked everyone but Baekhyun who would bark back at her.

“Hey, I’ll talk to you later, Yeosang,” I said as the bouncer let Yunho inside the nightclub, spiking my curiosity. Was he really here to admire some pretty ladies? Is this how he fed? A bit perverted and sadistic, but I couldn’t judge him too hard, “Have an easy shift.”

“Thank you,” Yeosang muttered, and I figured he was pouting since our conversation was short cut, “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Old habits die hard.” I chuckled before hanging up, then cut the line and smiled at the bouncer charmingly. He eyed me up and down, not budging. Great, of course, he’d let Yunho in without a blink, but not a fine lady wanting to enjoy some other fine ladies.

“Are only men allowed inside?” I raised an eyebrow, rolling my shoulders back. I wasn’t too muscular or too small, but I looked far from threatening still. Unless I showed my fangs, of course, “Thought the pretty ladies were for everyone to enjoy.”

I flashed him a hefty bill from my pocket, and the bouncer coughed and looked towards the line, pursing his lips. He glanced at the bill before he nodded, knocking on the door. It opened swiftly and I flashed the bouncer a charming smile before I slipped inside, making sure the bill landed in his opened palm without anyone seeing. And just like that, my eardrums were overwhelmed with loud thudding music. I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, willing myself to acclimate to the sudden change. The blinding lights made my eyes water and my head ached from the much too loud noise, the sweaty bodies making my skin itchy, but I willed my mind to focus on finding Jeong Yunho again. I knew he was in here somewhere, but I needed to find him to observe him more, learn his patterns to know how to lure him into my trap. I had done it once, I could do it twice. I didn’t need Sooyoung to interfere like she so much wished to do, I was grateful Joohyun knew that and told her to prepare herself for the ritual, instead.

The club wasn’t exactly like I had expected it to be, the dance floor was filled to the brim with raunchy dressed people, drunk or high out of their minds. The pretty ladies performing were there too, trapped in glass cages, their makeup sparkly and their dresses skimpy as they danced provocatively, prompting even more lustful eyes to watch them. A few bills were caught in their bras or the string of their visible thongs, and men were desperately throwing even more at them. Turning my head away from the sight, I looked towards the bar, hoping to find Yunho there, but it was almost as if he had vanished. Finding a tall and hunky man like him shouldn’t have been so hard, not with his dark blue hair and the distinctive long leather coat he was wearing tonight. Not giving up just yet, I ventured further inside the club, scooping out the place, trying to locate the restrooms…maybe he had gone there. I felt someone slap my ass and my irritancy instantly flared as I whirled around, crimson eyes burning into hazed ones. The man wasn’t ugly, but he was too drunk to know where he was, and he had touched me without consent. He tried staggering towards me, but I stopped him before he could, hissing at him, my fangs showing. Even a drunk man knew to stay away, and after he raised his hands in surrender he stumbled away, already finding his next victim.

I scoffed under my breath and walked away from the overcrowded dance floor, eyes narrowing when I realised there was a narrow corridor right by the restrooms. And just like that, Yunho was back in my sight as he appeared out of nowhere, rounding the corner and hurrying down the hallway. I followed after him, hastening my pace to keep up with his long strides, and felt a little hesitant when I saw two big-looking bodyguards blocking the middle of the hallway. They didn’t stop Yunho, though, so I hoped they wouldn’t stop me either. I clenched my jaw and held my head high, making sure to not look them in the eyes as I neared them. If they were to stop me, I would just knock them out. I knew I was too close to Yunho, that he might’ve already noticed my presence, but there were no signs he had, so I continued with my pursuit once the bodyguards didn’t even as much as glanced down at me. The walls were blood red, and Yunho had long rounded the corner to the right, disappearing to somewhere else. The music from the rowdy club was just a dull sound now, and something lower and much slower flooded the corridor as I came closer and closer to the corner. Then, as if I had been teleported to another dimension, this room was bigger and less filled with people.

The lights were dim and burgundy, coating everything and everyone in a reddish haze. The people in here were also fancily dressed, sitting around huge tables, bottle girls in their laps or walking up to their tables with fresh champagne. The sight was jarring, but I played it off as I looked for Yunho again, who was at the bar now. He was leaning over it and speaking to the barman, who was smirking at him while checking Yunho out repeatedly. Yeah, anyone with a good pair of eyes would appreciate his looks, especially his innocent face when his eyes were filled with darkness and danger. I gulped and walked to the very end of the bar, where a man was already sitting and could cover me from Yunho’s eyes with his large body. I wasn’t here to get anything, but I suppose I would’ve looked suspicious, so I flagged down another barman and asked for a Hugo. The man I decided to sit next to glanced at me a few times from the corner of his eyes, but I kept looking straight ahead so he wouldn’t try and speak to me.

The Hugo was delicious as I sipped on it, turning around in my seat to further observe the room. The women dancing in here mostly lacked their bras, and a few guys who were placed in glass cages wore nothing but jockstraps. Yunho, who had migrated from the bar, was now speaking to someone sitting by a large table, surrounded by men in suits and women in tight body dresses. Yunho didn’t sit down, his eyebrows were furrowed as he stared down at the man smirking at him, pointing towards a young-looking guy in the glass cage. I looked at the boy and wondered how old he was, his ankles were wobbly as he danced in his heels, his chest red and eyes mostly cast down. I wondered if he needed a way out and if I could provide it to him. My thoughts, however, quickly returned to Yunho as his body tensed, eyes turning into slits as the man he was talking to laughed loudly. I took a sip of my drink and watched as Yunho’s hand balled up into a fist, his arms shaking. Would a massacre occur now? Or was he strong enough to withhold his anger? I watched with excitement licking up my stomach, suddenly realising that I was watching my creation.

And he was a fine piece at that, visually, it would be even more satisfying if he was a strong-willed vampire as well. My suspicions were confirmed when Yunho took a step back, nodding his head stiffly and stalking off. I finished my drink when I realised there were multiple corridors leading to who knows where, and Yunho was headed down a brighter one. The light was distracting as it flashed over my head, my footsteps louder than I would’ve liked them despite the music playing in the main room. Yunho was ahead one second, and then the next second my back was digging into the hard wall, my airways restricted as Yunho’s large hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing mercilessly.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He hissed under his breath, jaw clenching even more. I could practically hear his teeth gritting together, it was a jarring sound. I couldn’t speak with how strongly he was squeezing my neck, so I opened my lips and grabbed his wrist, trying to make a sound to no avail. His grip loosened just enough to let me speak as he towered over me with his menacing height.

“What?” I chuckled, my throat a bit scrappy despite the drink I had just minutes ago, “Can’t a woman enjoy a place like this one? The girls are rather pretty—”

“Bullshit.” Yunho hissed, suddenly pulling himself away from me as he glared at me. I smiled, adjusting the collar of my black shirt, pretending that I was then dusting off the corset I decided to wear tonight. Yunho didn’t say anything else, but suddenly, he took off back towards the main room, me hotly following after him. Well, since I had been already discovered, there was no reason for me to pretend I wasn’t here. Maybe if I talked to him, I could get more information out of him.

“Where are you going?” I called after him as Yunho hurried back down the corridor, walking too fast but not that it looked unnatural to the human eye. He didn’t answer, obviously, so I just followed after him. I felt eyes on us as we stormed through the main room, and Yunho came to an abrupt halt when the man he had been speaking to suddenly raised an arm, his head tilted as he was looking me up and down curiously.

“Brought a snack for me?” My eyebrows furrowed as I turned to look at the man, ready to lash out or even bare my fangs at him, but I realised he was human. What an odd thing to say, then. Too focused on the man, I didn’t notice Yunho stepping closer to me, nor did I realise he grabbed me until he was squeezing my bicep so hard I almost whimpered. I know we were vampires and our pain tolerance was higher, but he could be a bit gentler with me.

“Found her for myself, actually.” Yunho’s tone had completely changed from how he had spoken to me. It was velvety, dripping with cynicism yet honey at the same time. One glance down at me and his eyes narrowed slightly, “Mind if I don’t share her with you tonight?”

What was going on? Who were these people and why was Yunho hounding me like his life depended on it? Taking a deep breath, I realised his cologne was oozing off of him, dark and somehow sweet, nauseating for my sensitive nostrils.

“You’re quite quick, Jeong.” The man huffed, clearly displeased by Yunho’s words, but he chuckled and flicked his hand, turning his attention away from us. I looked up at Yunho questioningly, but he started pulling me after himself, his jaw clenched tight still. I had to sprint to keep up with him, and my arm was turning white from how hard he was squeezing me. But he didn’t slow down until we left the weird room as he pushed me towards the corridor that led us here. I stumbled before catching my footing and whirled around annoyed, glaring up at him as he stormed up to my face.

“Stop pushing and pulling me around, fucker.” I hissed, craning my neck back to glare into his eyes. Yunho huffed, an unamused grin settling on his lips as he tilted his head.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked, tone gravely as I smiled, trying to tone down my sudden anger.

“Clubbing, what else am I supposed to do here?” I raised an eyebrow, but Yunho didn’t seem to buy my explanation. I wouldn’t stand around here and let him manhandle me more, so, I turned to leave but as I rounded the corner, I was being held back by my nape, Yunho’s hot breath hitting my ear from behind.

“I know you’re lying to me,” He hissed, his grip tightening around my nape when I tried to brush his touch off, “Why were you following me all night long?”

I chuckled, staring at the backs of the bodyguards who seemed like mannequins since they weren’t moving at all, “What are you doing in a dodgy place like this one? At first, I figured you were just a pervert coming here to feed, but clearly, I don’t know enough about you. You are my second creation, and you turn out to be pitiful—”

I gasped as my back collided with the wall loudly, a sharp ache shooting up my shoulder blade. I glared at Yunho, pushing at his chest when he came towards me, but he didn’t budge too much. I didn’t try too hard either, so maybe that’s why.

“Shut your mouth,” Yunho growled, his face contorted in pure anger. I laughed, letting my head fall back against the wall as I watched Yunho, “You don’t know nothing.”

“Yeah?” I hummed, chewing on my bottom lip as I let my eyes take him in again, “I pride myself on having a good eye for beauty, but really…that broody personality of yours ruins it all, Yunho. A master would usually want to be proud of their offspring, but you are making me question my judgment all those years ago. I should have let you die, shouldn’t I?”

That seemed to hit a nerve as Yunho huffed through his nose, his neck flushing red. I smirked, raising my eyebrows to provoke him even more, but he was still practising self-restraint, so it wasn’t fun anymore. Deciding that I wanted to know more about this place, I continued, “Why are you here, Yunho? And what’s this club?”

He seemed to consider his answer for a second as he glanced towards the motionless bodyguards, I wondered why they weren’t reacting to our little fight. Maybe they just didn’t care, maybe couples fought all the time in these narrow corridors.

“I’m undercover.” Yunho barely but whispered, knowing that I would hear him, “So get the fuck out before you ruin the whole operation!”

I pursed my lips, looking left and right, slowly nodding my head, “Right, you’re a cop. Interesting choice for a career, you miss hunting, don’t you? Makes sense, I suppose—”

I was cut off as noise filled the corridor, coming from the red-light room. It was two men, conversing with each other, saying something about Yunho and…me. Yunho’s jaw clenched as he heard them too, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. He looked annoyed as he looked back at me. I blew his cover, the men were coming to get him. I suppose the man he had been talking to was the one he was after, and now I had probably ruined Yunho’s credibility to him. Not wanting to be captured for no reason, or for a bloodbath judging based on Yunho’s rapid heartbeat, I did what I thought was best for a distraction. Just as the two buff men rounded the corner, I slapped Yunho hard across the cheek, the sound echoing in the hallway. Even the two bodyguards glanced back before minding their own business again. Yunho’s eyes widened as he held his red cheek, slowly turning his head to look at me bewildered.

“I hate you!” I screamed shrilly and grabbed the collar of Yunho’s leather coat to yank him into myself, making him knock me back against into the wall since he lost his balance. His eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then I slammed my lips against his, our eyes stayed open as Yunho stiffened. The press of our lips was painful and Yunho had started pulling away, but my grip tightened on his leather coat as I pulled him even closer, my eyebrows furrowing as I subtly moved my eyes towards the frozen men sent to take care of us. It seemed like Yunho finally understood what I had in mind because his body relaxed a bit, large hands coming up to cup my cheeks strongly. His eyes slowly fluttered shut and so did mine as I pressed up on my tiptoes to kiss him better, letting him tilt my head back just a little bit. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the opposite of my cold and smooth lips. The kiss was aggressive and lacked any warmth or pleasure as our lips smacked together painfully, but at least the two men sent to take care of us were slowly backing away.

My lips parted in a silent gasp when Yunho pressed me back up against the wall, licking into my mouth with little care as I grabbed the back of his head, fingers tangling into his smooth dyed hair. I yanked on the short strands as he sucked on my tongue, starting a burning fire in the pit of my stomach as I tried to keep the sounds threatening to leave my mouth down, eyebrows furrowing as a pleasurable feeling bloomed in my chest. I’ve kissed many before, but neither had felt so right and so fitting. Maybe it was because he was my creation, but the longer our mouths stayed glued together, the more clouded my mind became with his scent and beating warm heart. I could smell his blood pumping through his body, the veins on his hands bulging and a rich blue, his fingertips digging into my cheeks painfully. My fangs ached as he pressed his body against mine, keeping me caged between himself and the wall, my nerves on fire. If my heart would’ve been able to still beat, it would’ve been racing and flooding my cheeks with warmth, instead, it was my ears ringing and my stomach churning in unexpected want. Unable to hold back as Yunho’s tongue slid against mine, I grabbed his neck to keep him locked in place and swiftly sunk my fangs into his bottom lip. He let out a loud whine as fresh, rich-flavoured blood flooded my tastebuds, making my eyebrows furrow as I moaned.

The taste lingered on my tongue as Yunho pulled back with a loud gasp, his bottom lip slightly bloody as my jaw ached even more, my fangs yearning to sink into his smooth veins. I was breathing hard as Yunho kept me immobilised against the wall with his own body, his eyes shaking with anger. The men who had come to take care of Yunho had backed down, probably to report back to their boss.

“You’re human,” I whispered as I licked the remnant of Yunho’s blood off my lip, hands balling up into fists as I struggled to hold back from biting him again. He hadn’t been this sweet as a human when I had transformed him…or maybe I just hadn’t had blood from a living source in too long? That could affect how I reacted to fresh blood.

“I’m a monster.” Yunho looked disgusted as he forced the words out, his jaw clenched and face still close, “You did this to me.”

“Yeah, I did, but you’re not fully a vampire, are you?” I whispered, looking into his eyes once again, observing the crimson of one and the brownness of the other.

“It’s your fault.” Yunho hissed and I hummed, reaching forward to touch his chin, but he knocked my hand to the side with hatred written all over his face, “I will rip you to shreds if you cross my path ever again.”

I chuckled, “No, you won’t, because you can’t, Yunho.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head as he slowly leaned back close, lips ghosting over mine as I gulped, feeling something in me tremble at the proximity. I wanted his lips on mine again, my fangs in his skin and his blood on my tongue.

“If I can’t kill you, I’ll stake you like I staked Yeri.” My blood froze as I looked at Yunho with tense shoulders. His smile grew, looking smug and taunting, “Will you scream like she did? Beg for mercy and call for help? For your sisters like she had? Oh, what I would do just to see the light drain from your soulless eyes like hers had, slowly, teary, and shakingly, with your name dying on her lips.”

I prided myself on having great self-control, on knowing when to stay level-headed, and on not losing my head when provoked. But not even Yunho had expected the speed nor force I threw him against the wall with, both hands wrapped around his neck and squeezing until I could feel his muscles caving in underneath my skin. His eyes were bulging as he tried to claw at my hands, push me away and free himself, but my whole body was rooted in anger, wanting to take, to destroy, to avenge. I felt sick to my stomach as bile rose in my throat, my body shaking as Yunho tried to gasp for air, his eyes glossy, and I wanted to hear the snap of his bone, I wanted his head to roll to the side boneless, I needed his breath to freeze in his throat, his lungs never to function ever again. And I wanted to rip his still-beating heart out too, just for good measure. But wouldn’t that make me the monster he thought we were? The monster he had become? There was no light left in Yunho’s eyes, in his soul and heart, his body remained the same while he had lost his psyche. I felt tears stream down my cheeks, hot and burning, as I ripped myself away from Yunho, who started wheezing for air and fell to the floor in a ball, coughing and holding his neck. The bodyguards glanced back but didn’t do anything when I looked at them.

“If I can’t kill you, then Yeri will.” I gritted through my teeth, and with one last glance at him, I didn’t even care who saw me, I left the club in the blink of an eye, chest heaving as my head thumped, bile rising higher into my throat until I was forced to find a trashbin and double over it. Acid burned my throat as much as the tears in my eyes, but I willed myself to take a deep breath and relax my muscles. Yunho was still human, his blood and heart at least, so he would bring Yeri back. He would pay for what he did, and I’ll be there to watch his downfall.

            We knew what—no, who—Yunho was after. The universe had mysterious ways of working. Perhaps it was his punishment for taking so many innocent lives, perhaps it was the curse I wished to put upon him when I found Yeri’s motionless body lying on the cold floor of Seungwan’s castle, right in the middle of a ball where she was supposed to find a suitor for herself. I sighed as my eyebrows furrowed, eyes staring down at the paperwork without seeing the words. The ER had been busy all night long, Yeosang and I had just caught a break, Kai and Jennie telling us they’d cover for us while we’d take a breather. I didn’t think I needed it until the brisk night air filled my lungs, Yeosang’s steady heartbeat a nice reminder that I was alive. He was silent until he excused himself to grab some much-needed coffee, asking if I’d like a cup too, much like always. The answer was always the same, no, thank you. Coffee was too bitter and didn’t help me stay alert, so I preferred not to drink it for appearance's sake. My phone pinged with a new message, and I was finally able to release a sigh of ease. Yunho was supposed to come in to check on his non-existent stitches, I had begged the head doctor all night long for him to appoint Yunho to me again, making up all sorts of far-fetched explanations.

“What’s got you thinking so deeply?” I flinched hearing Yeosang’s deep voice next to me, having failed to notice his approach. Yeah, I was too in my head if I couldn’t notice an approaching human.

“Life, I guess…” I muttered as I leaned over the railing, looking down at the ground. It wouldn’t be a high enough jump, not to me. Yeosang just hummed and mirrored me, taking slow sips of his warm coffee. It was very bitter based on its scent, I wondered how he could stomach it.

“Time flies by fast, doesn’t it?” Yeosang spoke quietly, his cup of coffee hanging over the railing, “One second you’re just a child, and then the next you’re supposed to make money and look out for yourself in a world that mostly isn’t fair.”

Humans had different issues than us, I glanced at Yeosang and saw his eyebrows furrowed deeply. I wondered if life hadn’t been kind to him. It wouldn’t be fair if anything happened to Yeosang, he was too good, too kind. I hummed, watching him take another sip of his coffee before he hung his head low.

“My best friend is sick,” He whispered, voice gravely, and something stiffened in my chest. Perhaps it would have been my heart breaking for him if it were still functioning, “Very sick. I’m a nurse, I know so much about medicine and how to help people, I know the best doctors and yet—I can’t do anything to help him. He’s going to die, Y/N, and I can’t stop it.”

I had never heard Yeosang so broken before, so small and helpless. My eyebrows furrowed and I sighed, figuring he looked like he needed a hug right now. So, I turned towards him and grabbed his bicep, making him look at me defeated. I offered him a small smile and pulled him towards me, confusion visible on his face as he let himself be manoeuvred around. My arms wrapped around him in a friendly hug, hoping it would be comforting too. He remained stiff for a few more seconds, but then his arms wrapped around my torso and he placed his chin on my shoulder, squeezing me for a second.

“Thank you.” Yeosang whispered with a smile in his voice, “I didn’t think I’d find a friend at my workplace, especially not a doctor, but you’ve treated me with respect since the beginning. Even when I still felt nauseous taking blood.”

We both chuckled at that as I remembered Yeosang’s rocky start at the hospital. He needed a good year until he got completely in shape and accustomed to the life he had chosen, and that was understandable. What he did wasn’t easy, yet he managed better than most people I knew. Before the hug could become uncomfortable, we pulled away and Yeosang took a sip of his coffee to hide his small smile. Turning humans into vampires wasn’t like what it used to be. Mistakes happened, of course, but my coven believed in giving a choice to the human that wished to turn into one of us. We didn’t just take it greedily, we asked and told them what this life came with. We didn’t just stop existing one day, even when the earth threatened to stop spinning, we’d be here, living and breathing. We weren’t invincible, no, but we were durable and stronger than those around us. Joohyun had always believed even vampires could be forgiven for their sins, and bringing another person into our coven without a deep reason meant expulsion from it. I gulped and took a second to reconsider my words, but I hated seeing Yeosang in pain.

“And if…there was a cure for your best friend, would you want him to have it?” Asking without explaining first was greedy, but maybe I didn’t want to lose Yeosang and his kindness in this unfair world. Surely if his best friend became a vampire he’d wish to follow, no? That was greedy of me and wishful thinking, but I had long stopped asking for forgiveness for my sins. If I truly wasn’t greedy, I would’ve never transformed Yeri, I would’ve let everything progress by its natural rhythm.

“There would be a price to pay, I suppose…” Yeosang was smart, he knew there were things he couldn’t explain, I smiled as I nodded, “Yes, I would want him to have it as long as he does too.”

I hummed, deciding that bringing this up to Joohyun once the whole Yeri thing was over would be worth it. Our coven was tight-knit and strong, filled with talented people, offering a home to Yeosang’s friend would be nothing. He’d learn from the best and become even better. Perhaps it would be Joohyun or Seulgi turning him, after all, it was inevitable for the offspring not to take attributes from its creator once the transformation was through, it was smartest if the bite came from the best of the best vampires.

“Well, then—” Before I could tell Yeosang that I might be able to help him, my phone beeped, signalling that Yeosang and I were needed down, “Jeong Yunho just came in, I’m needed, but you can stay and finish your coffee.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed my wrist before I could hurry away, “Is this that man? The cop who was shot at twice? The one who fell over and destroyed the whole room?”

There was a tinge of scepticism and amusement in Yeosang’s tone as I hummed, averting my eyes because I hated lying to him, “Yeah, so I better go before he falls over again.”

Yeosang snorted as he released my wrist, raising his eyebrows, “I won’t have to fix up that room again, right?”

“Nope, I promise.” I blinked at him innocently and he shook his head, leaning back against the railing as I headed for the door, “I’ll call you when I need you, don’t come down until then!”

Yeosang nodded and I turned to race back to the ER, using my vampire speed since nobody was around, besides, I knew nobody was interested enough to watch or rewatch the security cameras. I fixed the collar of my white gown and nodded at the receptionist, showing her a thumbs up when she pointed towards private room number three. The head doctor spotted me and gave me a curt nod before he was whisked away by a nurse, who rushed him down towards the cardiovascular section. The door to the room was already open and Yunho was sitting on the table, his hands intertwined and placed in his lap as he stared at the floor. I pulled the door closed behind me, shutting us in, silence enveloping around us. I knew he didn’t need to get checked, but it would be too suspicious if I came in and he left right away. Besides, this was my chance to get him. I had told Joohyun that Yunho was partly human, so his blood was useful to us. This was the best time to knock him out and kidnap him. He’d do the same if he was in our spot, I’m sure of it.

“Good evening, Mr Jeong,” I spoke up as Yunho raised his head, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, why did I have to come to the ER again?” He sounded stoic and unimpressed, “You know I didn’t even get stitches.”

“Yes, I do, but the rest of the staff doesn’t.” I snapped, trying to keep my vexation at bay, but after our last encounter I couldn’t help but look at him with spite, bile rising in my throat as his words echoed in my head, he was insufferable, “So unless you want to be discovered, you sit on your ass and shut the fuck up.”

Yunho smirked as I walked closer to him, tilting his head, “Careful, your true colours are showing, Dr Bae, where’s the tempered and kindred-hearted Samaritan wannabe?”

I released a long huff, an unamused smile settling on my lips, “I suppose someone like you doesn’t deserve that treatment from me, so there’s no need to act differently around you. Besides, are you sure that it’s just an act? I’ve lived for over two hundred years, people change.”

“People, yes, not vampires.” His eyes narrowed as I came to stand in front of him, my hands in my pockets, fingers playing with the syringe hidden there.

“You’re wrong about that, Yunho, but you’re too rooted in your hatred to notice it.” Yunho’s rosy cheeks twitched, his eyebrows furrowing some more, “If you wouldn’t have been so blinded by your stupid coven’s preachings, you would have seen that the coven you’ve been hunting for centuries weren’t your enemy.”

“Yeah, right.” Yunho snapped, his jaw clenching, “Every bad thing that’s happened to me was because of you and your leader. I won’t let you walk away anymore, not now that I’ve found you again.”

I smiled, gripping the syringe as I could tell Yunho was getting more and more aggravated. His heart was picking up its rhythm and his eyes were slowly darkening, the crimson swirling deep in his pupil.

“Did you never try to find out more about the bond between the creator and its creation?” I quirked an eyebrow, and based on Yunho’s clenching jaw, it confirmed that he knew about it, but not enough, “You know…I made a mistake after I turned you into a vampire. I left you to fend for yourself, I left you alone and unprotected from the hunters. I can admit my mistake, sure, but I’m also conscious taming you might’ve never worked like with other hunters.”

Yunho released a long huff, sneering at me, “I would’ve ripped you to shreds.”

“Yes, I know.” I chuckled, tilting my head with mock concern, “I heard the carnage you caused once you awakened. As much as I find that hot and appalling at the same time, you ostracised yourself from every coven by doing that. That’s why you’re alone now.”

“No,” Yunho smirked, slowly standing up to tower over me. I gulped as I tilted my head back, unafraid, “I’m alone because I choose to be. I don’t need anyone telling me what to do or breathing down my neck like your stupid coven leader does. Even as a human and a vampire hunter, I never operated on my coven’s terms, that’s why I managed to kill so many vampires.”

I tried to smile, but my blood was boiling in anger as he leaned closer, licking his lips slowly as he took in my expression. Something made my fangs ache the longer we stared into each other’s eyes, my stomach coiling as his sweet blood called out to me.

“That’s why I still manage to kill so many vampires.” Yunho’s deep voice was nothing but a whisper, taunting and full of himself. My hands started trembling as I itched to bash his head in and scream at him, a sinking feeling settling in my gut this time, “Remember Seonghwa? Oh, poor little, gentle, Seonghwa…”

I couldn’t breathe, and my vision blurred as Yunho snorted, raising his hand to cup my cheek, fingers tracing my cold skin, “He begged, a lot, he even promised to stop drinking blood altogether. He almost had me convinced, I can’t lie, his eyes were just so innocent, and he was really loyal to you, did you know that? He actually loved you, fascinating, isn’t it?”

I wished for Yunho to drop dead, for the ground to open up and swallow him alive, for the earth to roll into his lungs and choke him to death. I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from whimpering when he grabbed the side of my neck, caressing my skin so lovingly that he could’ve fooled anyone. There were faint bruises around his neck, my fingerprints ebbed into his skin in an ugly black and green, perhaps he was too human for simple bruises to heal fast, “Would you like to join him?”

Hate was something I had grown familiar with a long time ago. It was an emotion that wrapped around my dead heart and cocooned it in a safety net, protecting it from the coldness of the world, the unfairness and tragedy that followed everywhere I went. In this second, I knew that it was no accident Seonghwa just perished one day, disappearing without a trace and a word. My bottom lip threatened to tremble as I gripped the syringe firmly in my hand, fingers wrapping around it tightly. Then, before Yunho could strike again, I moved swiftly and plunged it into his neck, injecting the sedative into his body. Yunho’s eyes widened as he wrapped his hand around my wrist, yanking the syringe out, but it was already too late. I knew he’d fall to the ground, so I grabbed his arms and pushed him down on the table as he gasped for air, his eyes becoming hazy as he tried to stand, but his muscles were too relaxed, his mind slowly slipping away from his grasp.

“I’ll see you in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed before his eyes fluttered closed, his body going lax on the table. With shaky hands, I fished my phone out of my pocket and texted Joohyun that I had Yunho, and that they had to come to the hospital now. She replied that they were on their way, equipped to take Yunho back to the mansion. Without allowing myself to think about the fact that Yunho was the cause I lost two people I loved most—Yeri, my sister, and Seonghwa, my lover—I dialled Yeosang’s number while I walked to the door and locked it.

“Is the room still in one piece?” Yeosang asked jokingly and I tried to smile, but I felt hollow.

“The room, yes,” But I wasn’t anymore, before Yeosang could realise something was wrong, I continued, “Can you get me a gurney without anyone asking questions?”

“I—what?” Yeosang sounded confused and surprised, but he was up on his feet and moving based on the click of the door on the other side of the phone, “If the head doctor is busy, I might get away with it.”

“Good, I’m in room three, be swift, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be there in five.”

And just like that, Jeong Yunho would never see the daylight ever again.

            I was exhausted by the end of my shift. The sun was high up in the sky with a few clouds obscuring it as the morning traffic was rambunctious, with angry and impatient drivers honking every few minutes. The ride home felt like it would never end, the highway was blocked off at one point and I had to wait for twenty minutes until we could get going again. Yeosang, my light and saviour, had proposed staying on a call with me after he saw my state by the end of our shift. He rambled on about cooking a delicious breakfast before putting on his favourite show, rolling into bed, and falling asleep to it. He hadn’t asked questions when I had let him inside the small room with the gurney, eyes falling on Yunho, a flash of recognition crossing Yeosang’s features. I expected him to ask questions and demand answers I couldn’t give him, but he just chuckled and told me he was glad the room had stayed intact this time. He, once more, didn’t ask questions when Joohyun arrived with her two bodyguards, two buff men who were more than excited to haul Yunho on the gurney and out of the hospital, placing a white sheet over his body so nobody would grow suspicious.

“Come straight home once you’re done with your shift,” Joohyun had muttered, her eyes falling on Yeosang, who was busy sanitising the table Yunho had been laying on moments ago, “Make sure he doesn’t say a word.”

There was a threat in Joohyun’s words that didn’t sit well with me, so before she could leave, I grabbed her arm and glared at her, “Yeosang isn’t a threat, don’t make Mark follow him.”

Joohyun considered it for a second as her eyes fell on my co-worker again, a contemplating look crossing her features, “Yunho was your first mistake, so I’ll let you off the hook this time, but make sure it’s not repeated with this Yeosang guy.”

And I knew she meant it, I wouldn’t mess up anything with Yeosang. He didn’t know the truth, but he knew something wasn’t right. As long as he didn’t ask too many questions and didn’t try to find out for himself, I could help his best friend, and perhaps even offer him eternal life. But all these thoughts were pushed to the back of my mind as I pulled up to the mansion, the sunrays were just a bit hotter today as they rosied my cheeks. I could hear a commotion inside as I walked closer, the door opening before I could even grab the doorknob. Seulgi stood in the foyer with her arms crossed, expression displeased.

“Your little hunter killed a maid, screamed to be let out for hours on end, and finally stopped when Seungwan went inside to give him another sedative. He’s been silent since, but he’s tried to break free at least three times.” I sighed, closing my eyes as I leaned against the wall, my feet aching from having stood on them so much all night long, “Now, thanks to him, everyone in the mansion knows of our plan, and there have been upheavals. Joohyun’s been holding a meeting since five o’clock, welcome home, Y/N.”

My jaw clenched as my head pulsated, muscles begging for a long hot bath. I suppose I wouldn’t get that, not yet at least, “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry?”

“No,” Seulgi scoffed, walking closer as she grabbed the tray of food off the table in the middle of the room, “He’s your creation, so go tame him. I don’t care what you do with him, but if he’s not well-behaved, I will kill him before we can awaken Yeri. This is your mess, so fix it.”

My jaw clenched as she pushed the tray of food against my abdomen, forcing me to take hold of it, “He’s been refusing to drink any blood, so go feed him. He can’t be malnourished when we need his blood.”

“Can’t I take a bath first?” I asked defeated as I let my bag fall to the ground, hopeful that our maid would notice it and take it up to my room for me. I don’t think I’d have the power to come downstairs once more today before I get to sleep. Seulgi’s face, however, was a clear answer that I wouldn’t get a breather before I’d have to face Yunho, so, I sighed and headed for the wide staircase, trying to steel my nerves and push through just for a little bit more. My phone dinged, and I grabbed it before I could head down the hallway to check Yeosang’s message. It was a selfie of him and his favourite plushie, a cute expression on his face as he winked at the camera. I chuckled and snapped a shot of the meal on the tray, telling him my breakfast was ready too…even if it was a lie. After covering for me today, I felt like he deserved to believe my being was normal, even if not true. Yeosang didn’t deserve to lay awake at night—or day, in our case—wondering why I was so strange and whether he was safe or not by my side.

I came to a stop in front of the room Yunho was held hostage in and looked down at my black heels, ankles a bit wobbly. I stepped out of the heels before pushing them to the side, instant relief flooding my calves and toes, a quiet groan leaving my lips. If Yunho’s hearing wasn’t already focused on every little sound, now he certainly was alerted of my presence outside his door. I didn’t knock even though it felt wrong, just unlocked the door and hurried inside to make sure he didn’t try to leave. I expected him to be all up in my face, expression maddened and chest heaving, his face red from anger and his muscles shaking from straining, but I was met with a Yunho sprawled out on the queen-sized bed, his feet dangling off the edge. The lock clicked into place behind me as I walked further inside, taking in the brightness of the room. The blackout curtains were completely undrawn, a harsh stream of light flooding the room. So, Yunho wasn’t as bothered by sunlight as the rest of us. I kept my eyes on his unmoving body as I proceeded further into the room, placing the tray on the desk. There was a bottle of water, half emptied, next to some painkillers that looked untouched. Right, I had used a higher dose of the sedative since I didn’t know how his body would take it, some side effects like a headache and nausea would be expected for a human…but Yunho wasn’t fully human, so we had no idea how his body would take it.

The silver tray clinked as it slipped from my hands slightly, fingers shaky from exhaustion as I took a deep breath, telling myself that I would be soon done here and in the safety of my room. The sound, however, elicited the skip of Yunho’s heartbeat as his head raised, eyes narrowed when he realised it was me in his room. Perhaps he was still under the influence of the sedative, that’s why he looked slightly dazed. He stood, slowly pushing himself up as I released the tray and set it aside, ready to leave, but suddenly he was all up in my personal space, crowding me against the side of the desk. I flinched, taken aback by his actions, and gripped the edge of the desk for stability. There was exhaustion in Yunho’s eyes as he stared down at me, then looked past me at the tray. There was no reason for me to feel nervous all of a sudden, especially not when my anger was far from being gone, but the sudden closeness allowed for me to inhale Yunho’s scent greedily, gums itchy as my fangs wanted to grow just a bit longer to sink into his warm skin.

“Is that for me?” Yunho’s voice was raspy as he nodded towards the food on the tray, and I glanced back to look at the copious food.

“Yes—” My answer was cut short when a hand wrapped around my neck, slamming me against the wall. I groaned in exasperation and grabbed Yunho’s wrist, my nails sinking into his skin as I scowled at him, annoyance flaring up my insides, “You have to stop throwing me around, it’s getting old, Yunho.”

He didn’t say anything as his fingers started squeezing harder, making it difficult for me to breathe. But I wouldn’t give in, not when we were so close to having Yeri back, so I kicked at his legs until he had to step back, his crimson eye gleaming under the natural light.

“You took me as your hostage,” Yunho spat, his heart slowly starting to race, “And you’re planning on using me to awaken your sister, wasn’t she dead?”

“I see they’ve explained everything to you.” I smirked and patted down the front of my blouse, an expression of satisfaction crossing my features as I raised an eyebrow at Yunho, “How does it feel to know you didn’t actually kill my sister? Even better…you are going to bring her back to life—”

But truly to Yunho, his anger got the better of him as he slammed me back into the wall, squeezing my cheeks together so it was difficult to speak. I must’ve looked silly with my lips jutting out, the pressure on my cheekbones wasn’t light, but I couldn’t help but feel satisfied by his reaction.

“She won’t come back, I’ll make sure of that.” Yunho hissed, his eyes searching my face, “You’ve led me to your lovely hideout, too, I’m going to hunt down every single one of you, Y/N. And I’ll leave you for last so that you can watch everyone perish right in front of your eyes.”

I slapped his hand away as I sneered at him, resisting the urge to punch him, “Your threats, too, are getting old, Yunho. If you think you can just waltz in here and take down a whole coven, you are wrong. Nothing is the same anymore, we’ve changed too. What makes you think you’d get away with it?”

“I’m part of the police.”

“And so are we.” A beat of silence passed as Yunho processed the information, eyebrows furrowing for a second in confusion, “Now eat your goddamn food and behave, Yunho, don’t make it harder than it has to be. You shouldn’t have killed that maid, she did nothing to wrong you.”

“A human willingly subjecting themselves to vampires are just as vile as the creatures we are, I should put each one of them out of their misery.” Yunho hissed, his jaw clenching as I huffed, pushing him back by his chest to free myself. I barely took a few steps, however, when Yunho’s iron grip around my bicep stopped me, “Take that disgusting thing away from me, I don’t eat human food.”

I paused, eyebrows furrowing. I thought Yunho was more human than a vampire, so how come he didn’t eat normal food? Maybe he was just trying to play with us. I took a deep breath and turned my head to look over my shoulder at him, “Don’t think you can toy with me, Yunho, the less difficult you are, the faster we’ll be done with everything.”

“I’m a goddamn vampire, how do you expect me to stomach regular food?!” Yunho snapped, his patience running thin once again as he whirled me around, dragging me back towards the desk. I stumbled over my feet due to the force but caught myself on the edge of the desk. I threw him a heated glare, narrowing my eyes at him in annoyance. Getting manhandled by him was turning old rather fast.

“You taste and smell human, your heart is still pumping blood, why do you think I assumed you ate food like any other human?” I scoffed, grabbing the tray to take it away with me. If he didn’t want to eat normal food, fine, I didn’t care. He could starve himself, at least he’d die faster once we were done with the ritual.

“Stop saying I’m human!” Yunho screamed, his voice wavering, “I’m a fucking monster, I’m just like you! That thing they gave me—my coven—that serum made me like this! I didn’t die nor become completely a vampire because I was already digesting vampire blood, to begin with, unbeknownst to me. My system was used to it and couldn’t break the particles down accordingly, I’m an abomination.”

So that’s why he was like this, then. I knew the hunters were taking something back then, something that enhanced their strength and speed, but I would’ve never thought they willingly drained the blood of vampires just to harvest it for terrible experiments. I sighed, looking down at the tray in my hands. I didn’t understand why Yunho hated being a vampire so much, after all those years, I assumed his prejudice would lessen, but no, he was still rooted in his hatred for us, indoctrinated to take us out no matter what…no matter if he was one of us, now.

“Can you…” I sounded tired as my jaw clenched, my exhaustion catching up with me all of a sudden, “Stop calling us monsters? Calling yourself an abomination? It’s not—we’re not the devils you were made to believe we are, Yunho, we were once, yes, I can’t deny that. But not anymore, we’ve evolved with the rest of the world, we’ve changed our ways, it’s…we don’t kill for the fun of it anymore, can’t you see that? Can’t you try and understand?”

Yunho shook his head, expression filled with disgust, “Maybe you think so, but I see it first hand, day after day what vampires are capable of, the many lives they still take, the families they rip apart for entertainment, the people they drive mad because they can—so don’t come here and try to lecture me about my beliefs when you don’t know shit!”

I jumped when Yunho’s curled fist came down on the tray I was holding, sending the contents to the ground as the porcelain shattered and the delicious-looking food splashed all over the floor. I stared at it, dumbfounded, until I felt something warm trickle down my palm, between my fingers. I hissed as I registered the sting of the cut left by the sharp edge of the tray, turning around my hand to bring it closer to my face. The wound wasn’t too big, located in the centre of my palm, but it oozed more blood than it was supposed to. Perhaps the cut went deeper than I expected, that would explain the dull sting of pain travelling through my nerves. Nothing a little sanitiser couldn’t help, though I doubt the wound would stay open until I reached my room to clean it up, it was already slowly closing up. There was a strained inhale, however, and I realised Yunho’s heart was racing as I slowly lifted my head. His face had paled and his lips were parted, saliva gathering in the corner of his mouth as he gulped down the excess, his eyes shaking. Yunho’s scent was suddenly overbearing as he stepped over the mess on the floor, his eyes fixed on the blood that had pooled in my palm. I felt something deep in my gut coil, my skin feeling peculiarly hot as Yunho gripped my hand harshly, raising it to his face.

I stopped breathing as I watched his eyes flutter closed, nose almost buried into my palm as he inhaled long, his lips parting even further as a small groan slipped through. My eyes widened, and before I could pull back and make sense of his sudden actions, fingers cradling through my hair at the back of my head immobilised me, the grip firm and strong as I felt cold and sharp teeth sink into my neck. I tried to recoil from Yunho’s fangs sinking deeper into my skin, but he was suddenly much stronger than ever before, flushing me against his body in an iron grip as his fangs hit my artery, making me groan in pain. I could feel every single muscle in my body tense up at the intrusion, my brain commanding me to fight back as bile raised in my throat, my fingers curling into Yunho’s form-fitting black blouse. It stung as he greedily gulped down my rich blood, the gurgling noises were loud as I was moved backwards until my back hit the wall. I was too exhausted to fight back with my whole being, but the more I tugged at Yunho’s hair in hopes he’d release me, the harder he sucked, moans slipping past his lips. I was getting lightheaded as my legs became sore, unable to feel my toes I gasped, something snapping deep in my gut.

A scorching hot flame travelled through my body, making me gasp loudly as my head fell back against the wall, lips parted in a whine as I leaned more towards Yunho, baring my neck for him so he’d have more access to it. The light-headedness turned into a daze one only experienced when drinking from their partner during sex, and suddenly I was aching all over, my fangs pushing past my bottom lip as my gums ached, “Yunho, wait, stop—”

But he didn’t listen as he slotted a thigh between my legs, pressing it against my suddenly aching core, and I moaned, relieved by the pressure, but it wasn’t good enough. If he continued drinking my blood, he’d leave me too drained. I couldn’t let him do that, but I couldn’t make him budge as he clung to me, whimpers slipping past his lips as if he hadn’t fed in over a month. I had never experienced anything like this with anyone before, drinking blood without having sex wasn’t pleasurable, it was painful and appalling, but right now all I could think about was Yunho’s strong thigh pressing against where I needed him most, my hips slowly starting to move as I ground against him. Yunho’s large hand curled around my jaw as I felt his fangs finally retract from my neck, the bite leaving a dull pulsating in my neck. I felt breathless, my body on fire as Yunho raised his head, both eyes bloodshot. I would’ve gasped at the sight if it wasn’t for the lips that pressed hungrily against mine, tasting my own blood on Yunho’s lips felt foreign but not as disgusting as one would expect.

There was something about his warmth and his racing heart that made my brain feel intoxicated, making me realise this wasn’t enough, that I needed more and that I needed it now. I groaned as our lips tried to find a rhythm, but Yunho wouldn’t surrender as he nipped at my bottom lip, trying to lick into my mouth as I resisted giving in fully to him. He was so warm it felt as if his body was burning up, much like the sun, melting away the coldness that clung to mine all the time. It felt like when I had awakened, aware of everything surrounding me and so overly sensitive. He gripped my hip with one hand as the other still cradled my jaw, and suddenly started guiding my hip in a dangerously slow rhythm, making me groan against his lips. I couldn’t fight back, though, it felt too good to ask him to stop, and yet it wasn’t enough, so I finally parted my lips and allowed him to explore my mouth with his eager tongue, suckling on my tongue like it would satiate his hunger. Yunho moaned as I felt his hand on my hip start to trace up my torso, gripping at my skin through my clothes, cupping my breast as he squeezed it, not stalling as it travelled up to rest at the base of my neck.

“Why is your blood so sweet?” Yunho rasped out as our mouths finally detached, my lungs felt on fire despite us not having kissed for too long. I needed a second to realise Yunho had asked me a question, mind fogged up with desire as I could finally grind against him however I wished. Yunho looked down between us and groaned, his grip tightening just a bit around my neck, “Answer me, Y/N.”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, eyebrows furrowing when Yunho grabbed me again, stilling my movements, “Fuck, I’m not lying, I genuinely don’t know. Your blood is sweet too, too sweet, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Anytime your scent hit me harder, all I could think about was sinking my teeth into your skin, your warm and rich blood, the aching of my fangs.”

“Yeah?” Yunho groaned, his eyebrows furrowed as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over my neck and I shuddered, fingers tangling into his dark blue hair.

“Yeah.” I keened as he pressed a gentle kiss against my neck, tongue lapping at the teeth marks that hadn’t faded yet. Feeling his tongue against my skin made me tremble as my body felt ignited by sparks of desire, and I massaged Yunho’s scalp as he continued peppering kisses against my neck, sometimes nipping at the skin without biting into it.

“I could suck you dry,” Yunho mumbled, biting at my jaw just a bit harder, making me yelp. He raised his head so we were looking into each other’s eyes, both burning with want in them, “I could rip your heart out even, or I could tie you down and escape, kill your whole coven and come back to finish you off later.”

I chuckled, one hand sneaking down his torso, grabbing at the obvious bulge in his jeans. Yunho’s jaw suddenly clenched, his eyes shifting downwards before he looked back at me, “Really? Could you do that when your dick is straining like that against your pants?”

“Shut up.” Yunho hissed, disgust crossing his features before he slammed his lips against mine for a second time, making me laugh as I tried to dodge his insistent kiss. My amusement didn’t last for long, however, because I was suddenly hoisted up, legs around Yunho’s hips as I clung to his larger body, confusion written all over my face. Yunho didn’t look at me as he took us to the bed, sitting down with me in his lap as he leaned closer, burying his nose in my neck as he inhaled deeply, long fingers digging into my back as he felt me up. I closed my eyes and shifted forward just slightly, back arching when Yunho’s hands settled on my hip, realising I was seated right over his dick, his bulge pressing up into my clenching core. With an experimental roll, I tilted Yunho’s head back and leaned down, lips hovering above his as he breathed through his mouth, eyebrows furrowed and eyes ablaze as he stared up at me.

“I’m your creator, don’t think you can harm me as easily as you’d like.” Before he could say anything, our lips met again, moving hungrily as I pushed my tongue past his teeth, tasting him again with hunger, hips picking up a steady rhythm as Yunho’s hands helped for an easier glide. He tasted like mint and candy, not as sweet as his blood, but almost just as satiating. It was a constant push and pull between us, and I knew I didn’t want to be in his arms like this, but something just felt right about letting him kiss me, touch me, feel me up, and even feed from me. I suppressed a moan as he ground up just a bit harsher, his fingers to leave faint bruises if he squeezed any harder, mouth warm against mine. He tipped his head back as my hands cradled his cheeks, fingers buried in his warm skin as our tongues continued to tangle together. A particularly slower roll of my hips, however, had Yunho’s eyebrows furrowing as he turned his head, breathing loudly as his chest heaved. I smirked and kissed his cheek before dipping my head, exploring his soft skin and appetizing neck, his bulging veins practically begging for my fangs to sink into them.

“Is there—fuck,” I teased his skin by biting into it without leaving a trace, licking the faint teeth mark with my tongue before it could disappear, “There’s a deeper connection between us, isn’t it?”

I hummed, pulling back to look down at Yunho, my hips finding a slower rhythm just to antagonise him more, “Yeah, I made you, so in some ways we are connected. It manifests differently in each vampire, though.”

Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed and suddenly he stopped me, leaning forward so that his lips hovered over mine, “You think I can’t kill you?”

“I know you’d like to try,” I chuckled, pressing a mocking kiss against the corner of his mouth. Being with Yunho felt right, something about our bodies being so close to each other felt calming despite the hatred we carried for each other. I couldn’t trust him, but something told me he wouldn’t rip out my heart right now, “But when I turned you, I only wanted you to suffer and not actually lose your life. When one turns into a vampire, it takes attributes from their creator and the purpose they’ve been turned with matters for how they’ll look at their creator. I know you’ll eventually find a way to kill me, but until then, you’re physically unable to do so, Yunho.”

Yunho’s jaw clenched as he stopped my ministrations, hatred and disgust swirling in his irises. He didn’t say anything for a second, but the hand around my throat was a good warning that he thought about choking me again. At this point, he made me think he had a kink for seeing me fight for a single breath, and it wasn’t as hot as one would think. But behind all those strong emotions, there was fear hiding behind Yunho’s brown eye, his bottom lip quivering when he spoke.

“I hate what I am, and I will make sure all of us eventually die, I won’t let humanity become enslaved to vampires.” He whispered, gripping my neck just a bit tighter, “You can keep me here all you want, Y/N, I will never help you. Yeri will remain in her slumber because I refuse to give you my blood, and you can’t take it if I won’t let it.”

I smiled, patting Yunho’s cheek almost affectionately, “I can’t, but Sooyoung and anyone else can.”

I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips before detaching myself, oddly feeling cold and guilty. I didn’t want Yunho to hate me so ardently, but the feeling was mutual despite me having pushed it to the darkest corners of my mind. He had killed Seonghwa, the man I wished to live with for an eternity. There was no scenario in which I could forgive Yunho for his sins, and I trusted he’d be punished for everything he’s done one day. Yunho remained motionless as I stood, patting down my hair and readjusting my blouse, my swollen lips tingling as Yunho licked his. My desire wasn’t the most important thing, I wasn’t here to sleep with Yunho, no matter how much my body yearned for it.

“I will slaughter you if you touch me—”

“Everyone has a price, Yunho.”

“I don’t, Y/N.”

I chuckled, walking past the mess on the floor as I grabbed the key out of my pocket. Yunho could’ve taken it this whole time, yet he didn’t. He knew where it was, his eyes now fixed on it, but he made no moves to stand from the bed. His cheeks were flushed and his pouty lips even plumper, his blouse askew, and the bulge less visible in his jeans.

“Yes, you do, Yunho.” I twisted the lock and turned to give his defeated body one last look, “Song Mingi.”

And I left the room as Yunho gasped, springing up from the bed and banging on the door to be let out. Everyone had a price, even Jeong Yunho. A life for a life.

            The full moon was high in the sky, its gentle light radiating through the open windows. The breeze was cool but nobody could feel it in the dimly lit room, red candles burning away as the strong scent of blue sage filled our nostrils. The vampires around me wore dark burgundy capes, the hoods draped over their eyes as their hands remained buried in their sleeves. My fingers gently traced Yeri’s soft hair, her skin pale and sickly as she remained unmoving. The conference room had been transformed for the ritual, Yeri’s body now aligned in the middle on an altar decorated with white flowers and a silky tablecloth. Her dress was pristine, the small gems embroidered into it sparkling if the light fell on it just right. My dark gown touched the floor as I remained standing next to Yeri’s body, murmuring reassuring things to her in hopes she could hear me. The low murmur of the other vampires suddenly stopped as the double doors opened, Mingyu and Chanyeol carrying a tied-down Yunho inside the room. The silver around his body dug into his skin, and judging by the prominent vein on his forehead and his straining jaw, it was more painful than he could handle. Our eyes met as he was dragged towards the altar, Mingyu muttering a low warning in his ear before Yunho could even think of escaping.

Joohyun, wearing her white dress followed inside, a flower crown prettily decorating her head. She looked innocent, dainty, like an unassuming maiden as she took slow but powerful steps towards the altar, a book in her hands. The long sleeves of her dress hid her hands, and I flinched when I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Sooyoung motioned to the side, gently pulling me away from my sister’s body as my gut coiled nervously, eyes falling on her before watching Yunho again, scared that he’d try to kill her once more. Flashes of Yeri’s bloodied body made me close my eyes, my hands shaky as Sooyoung offered her hand silently, a support she knew I needed right now. I released a shaky breath and watched as Joohyun went to the head of the altar, standing behind Yeri. She looked down at my sister and smiled softly as she traced her eyes for a second, then looked up with a hardened expression. Yunho was dragged next to her by the two bodyguards, trying to trash around in their grips, but the silver only made his skin burn more, so he succumbed to the pain and stopped moving around. His chest was heaving and everyone could hear his racing heart, our eyes found each other once again and I could see just how much he wished to kill every single one of us in the room. I don’t think I have ever felt someone’s hatred as intensely as Yunho’s right now. My jaw clenched as I looked away, focusing on Yeri instead as Joohyun opened her arms, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Everyone, please join hands.” Her soothing voice rang out in the quiet room as everyone followed Joohyun’s instructions. We all stepped closer to the altar, our hands joining together as Yunho looked around frantically, probably looking for a route to escape, “We are here, Yerim, we will set you free. Your suffering ends today.”

I gulped, feeling a tightness in my throat as I looked at my sister, everyone else’s head bowed down in respect to the coven leader. Joohyun met my eyes as she opened the book she had brought with her, an ancient artefact that carried all of our secrets. Perhaps Yunho knew that too because his eyes widened as they fell on it, trying to mutter something, but the rag tied around his mouth made it sound intangible. A slow hum left Joohyun’s throat as she grabbed the silver knife placed on the altar, the book placed by Yeri’s head was flipped open to a page I had never seen before. The gathered vampires followed Joohyun’s lead, and soon I found myself humming lowly in my throat, feeling like I was being electroshocked each time Joohyun’s intonation changed. She was humming a lullaby I hadn’t heard before, but the rest of us kept the initial hum going, concentrating on keeping it uniform. Joohyun raised her hand, muttering a quiet prayer before she cut her finger, drawing a bloody cross on Yeri’s forehead. Yunho’s face morphed into disgust as he tried to speak, yanking on his restraints to no avail as I watched him with furrowed eyebrows, coming to a sudden realisation. Joohyun would kill Yunho once the ritual was over, he wasn’t allowed to live another day.

That wasn’t the realisation, however, but the voice that whispered to me to save him, to take him away before the light faded from his eyes. It was always hard for the creator to watch its offspring perish, but there was something deeper about this that I couldn’t fully understand. Yunho’s eyes shook as we looked at each other again and his jaw clenched when he was hauled forward by Mingyu, Joohyun’s arms extended as she continued to mutter under her breath an incantation in an ancient language I’d never heard before. I didn’t want Yunho to die once Yeri awakened, I had promised a life for a life, and suddenly I realised the voice I heard in my head wasn’t mine, it was Yunho’s low timbre pleading with me to find a way out. He was looking for Song Mingi, whoever that was, he couldn’t die until he found him alive and breathing. My eyes widened as Joohyun raised the silver knife high, her eyes completely white as she hissed. I tried to move towards her, suddenly afraid she’d kill Yunho right now, but Sooyoung’s grip on my hand tightened, yanking me back to my spot. She shot me a warning look, enough to tell me that if I broke the circle, the ritual would not work out. So, with bile in my throat, I was forced to listen to Yunho’s racing heart as Joohyun cut a small gash on his neck, grabbing the back of his head and forcing it down.

His blood trickled slowly as he forced his eyes shut, arms trying to rip his silver chains apart, but I could smell his burnt skin mixing with his blood’s intoxicating scent. I could feel my fangs poking against my bottom lip, but this wasn’t the time or place to yearn for Yunho’s sweet blood. My eyes zeroed in on the first blood droplet as it splashed against Yeri’s closed mouth, then another, and another, until it was enough to trickle inside her mouth. Joohyun continued chanting, her voice rising in volume as did the hum of the vampires, and I realised I was doing it involuntarily as if I was entranced by our leader. Joohyun’s head snapped back with a sickening crack as her mouth opened, all sounds halting as Yunho was trembling, fear, anger, and disgust swirling in his irises as more blood trickled down his neck, wetting Yeri’s lips. Then, as the silence stretched on and Chanyeol had to catch Joohyun’s limp body when it fell backwards, there was a loud gasp as if someone had been suffocating but managed to break through the surface. The vampires froze as my eyes widened, watching as Yeri’s bloodshot eyes snapped open, disoriented and full of fear until they fell on the hovering hunter above her.

I felt my knees wobble as I watched my once again living little sister grab the back of Yunho’s head and yank him down, sinking her fangs into his neck. A pained sound left Yunho’s body as Mingyu stepped back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he let Yeri have her way with Yunho. The vampires looked astonished as our circle broke apart, some taking steps back while the others remained frozen. I could hear Seungwan crying behind me, her sobs loud as Seulgi hurried to Joohyun’s aid, snapping orders at Chanyeol as to what to do with her. Sooyoung remained on my side, her grip bruising on my bicep as we watched Yeri breathlessly, my eyes filled with burning tears as Yunho struggled to break free from my sister’s attack. She looked famished, her eyes were gleaming red and she was greedily gulping down Yunho’s blood, long nails piercing his skin as her eyes snapped around the room alarmed until they fell on me. Yunho had stopped trashing around, his breathing becoming shallow, and I realised that his heartbeat was alarmingly slowing down. Feeling an unexplainable pull, I jumped forward and pushed Yeri off him, her fangs dripping with his hot blood as Yunho slumped against the altar, struggling to breathe. Sooyoung was by my side, cradling Yeri to her chest as I rushed around the altar, holding Yunho up and yanking the rag off his mouth.

“Water.” He heaved out, struggling to breathe, “I can’t—breathe.”

I felt myself panic as I looked around, but nobody seemed to want to help the hunter. My jaw clenched as I heard my sister’s timid voice asking what had happened and why everything felt so weird, but upon my eyes meeting with Sooyoung’s, I understood that she’d take care of my sister while I tended to the hunter.

“Come on,” I whispered and hauled Yunho’s large form into my arms, his weight pressing but nothing I couldn’t handle. I felt judgmental stares follow after me, some murmured even, as I hurried back to the room Yunho was held inside, wondering if my heart would be racing in fright if it was still beating. Yunho was mumbling intangible things, but I didn’t focus on them as I barged inside the bedroom and hurriedly placed him on the bed, my skin burning when I touched the silver chains. They were enchanted so that Yunho couldn’t break them, but they came undone easily under my grip. His arms unravelled from around his body as he groaned, trying to turn onto his side as he squeezed his eyes shut. I hurried to the desk, grabbed the bottle of water he hadn’t touched since yesterday, and uncapped it as I held his head up, knees sinking into the soft mattress of the bed. When Yunho realised I was helping him drink, he gripped my hand greedily and downed the bottle, breathing hard as his head fell back to the mattress, eyes half opened as he tiredly looked at me.

I gulped and stood back, putting distance between us when I realised his heart had a steady rhythm once again, “You didn’t let her kill me.”

I huffed, an unimpressed smile pulling at my lips, “It’s not just you who can’t kill me, Yunho, I can’t kill you either…for now.”

“For now.” Yunho echoed, his voice gruff as he curled up in a ball, his teeth chattering, “I will escape—and there will be no trace left of the Bae Coven.”

And I knew he meant it, so I hummed and pulled a blanket over his shivering body, knowing that he needed the rest. I left the room with a sinking feeling in my stomach and locked the door twice, pocketing the key to make sure nobody would be able to enter it. I couldn’t risk them doing anything to Yunho. But until he recovered, my sister was the most important thing.

            The mansion felt more alive than ever before. It’s been barely three days since Yeri awakened, yet joy and laughter filled every hallway of the otherwise sombre house. It felt like a rock had been lifted off my chest, like I could breathe easier as I could finally smile and enjoy another sunrise. Yeri, despite her brightness, hid a darkness she thought we couldn’t see. She was trying to come to terms with the fact that she’d been dead for over two hundred years and that the world she once knew wasn’t the same. It was hard, I could see it in her forced smiles and her jumpy body whenever someone crept too close to her as if she was expecting to be staked again. I couldn’t understand her pain, but I could be there for her to help her out. My bed no longer was empty, she’d be waiting for me after my shifts, her pyjamas pink and her hair now short. She looked gorgeous as the sun beamed inside, surprisingly she craved the summer warmth more than any of us. I smiled as I entered my room, a phone she still struggled to understand in her hands, her eyebrows furrowed as she kept pressing the screen.

“What are you doing?” I asked with a chuckle, walking closer to my bed. Nobody had seen Yunho in the past three days, and nobody but me was allowed to enter his room. The coven was undecided about his fate, and it was all thanks to Seungwan’s kindred spirit and my insistence that keeping him alive would benefit us. The others didn’t have to know that somehow a selfish part of me had grown dependent on the vampire hunter, the thought of losing him now sounded terrible. He was a bad man worthy of punishment, but the song of his blood was stronger than all the bottled-up feelings I’d felt for him for so long.

“Seulgi downloaded some game for me, apparently,” Yeri answered as I kneeled on the bed next to her, my room now decorated in pink trinkets. Yeri’s always loved pink, she even wanted to dye her hair the colour once she found out it was now possible, “But this stupid thing won’t work!”

Her accent was heavy and of different times, it brought a sense of nostalgia over me as I grabbed her phone out of her hands and placed it aside. Yeri just pouted as she looked at me, her calmness managing to settle my nerves. Our bond was special, after I had turned her into a vampire, something connected us like nobody else. I could feel her emotions and she could tell where I was all the time, whether I was safe or in danger. Knowing that she finally wasn’t in distress managed to make me feel less bad about the fact that I couldn’t be by her side all the time due to my job.

“What did you do today?” I asked as I brushed a strand of short hair out of her eyes.

“Sooyoung showed me the—garage and we went for a ride?” Yeri’s lips pursed as she grabbed my hand to hold it, “But she said the horses and carriages were replaced a long time ago…I really wanted to go on horseback, though.”

I chuckled, taking in my sister’s less pale complex and her reddish irises. She wasn’t warm, but her voice filled my chest with adoration, “We’ll buy you some horses, I’ll talk to Joohyun.”

“Is it true you won’t let anyone see the hunter?” Yeri’s voice was just a whisper as I looked down, chewing the inside of my mouth.

“Yes, I have to sort out some issues first, I’m sorry.” Yeri just hummed, and then I felt her hand cupping my cheek.

“I’m not mad at you,” She was smiling softly, her eyes sad, “You can do whatever to him, he’s yours. If you wouldn’t have turned him, I would’ve never returned. Seungwan told me all the things you did for me, the research, the places you visited to find out more, thank you. I knew you were a great sister, yet you surprised me once again. I love you, Y/N.”

I leaned forward to hug her tightly, sniffing a bit as I felt the tears burn my eyes, “I love you too, Yeri, I’m glad you are back.”

“Me too,” Yeri giggled, but then her excitement died down, “This world is scary, though, I don’t think I like it here.”

“You’ll get used to it, a lot has changed and a lot has improved, living now is a bit more comfortable.” Yeri nodded as I slowly got off the bed, looking towards the bag I had discarded at the door.

“You’ll go see him, right?” She pointed towards my bag, “That’s why you brought home blood.”

I hummed as I grabbed the two blood bags out of my bag, gripping the doorknob, “I have to, if I didn’t hear his heartbeat, I’d think he was already dead.”

Yeri chuckled as she fell back into the pillows, clutching one to her chest, “Don’t take too long, I still have so many questions before you fall asleep.”

I laughed and nodded before closing the door, then headed for Yunho’s room which was one floor underneath us. I could feel my hands sweat for no reason, something in my gut twisting. I fidgeted with the key as I stopped in front of his door, debating whether I should knock first or not. Most of the coven was asleep now or out doing their daytime jobs, but a few remained in the mansion to hide out. I unlocked the door and slowly pushed it open, looking first at the bed, but Yunho wasn’t there. My eyebrows furrowed as I realised I could smell his scent inside the room, but it was faint. His heartbeat, however, was strong and telling me that he was inside the room. The door clicked shut behind me as I realised the window’s lock was broken, now wide open as the breeze billowed through the curtains. My eyebrows furrowed as I whirled around, looking for Yunho. Was he inside the bathroom? The water wasn’t running, but maybe he was in there. But if the window was open, why hadn’t he escaped yet? In my confusion, I failed to notice him creeping up on me, one large hand wrapping around my throat from behind. I froze, hands holding the blood bags tighter.

“You finally came,” Yunho muttered into my ear and goosebumps erupted on my skin, his lips warm as they brushed against the shell of my ear, “Thought you’d never visit your favourite vampire hunter.”

“You’re a bit bold, don’t you think?” I questioned, making Yunho chuckle, “Did you regain your power?”

“Mostly,” Yunho hummed walking us closer to the window, “But I’m famished.”

“That’s why I brought you blood.” I raised one blood bag, but Yunho tsked, “What? Is it not good enough for you?”

“I have my ways of hunting, and right now…” My jaw clenched as he lightly nipped at my jaw, “I’m craving something fresh, something warm, young, and something that’s inside this mansion.”

My eyebrows furrowed as Yunho’s hand tightened around my neck, the two of us standing in front of the window. He chuckled, and before I could ask what he meant, he kissed the corner of my mouth tauntingly before his lips brushed against my ear once again, “You didn’t lock the door.”

The glass cracked as my head collided with it, making me let out a pained yelp as I fell against the windows, blood bags falling from my hands. My head thumped painfully as I hissed, trying to regain my bearings as my vision swam for a second, turning around to face Yunho…except that he wasn’t inside the room anymore, the door wide open. My eyes widened as I felt a chill run down my spine, with feet tangling together, I dashed towards the door, mind whirling where he could’ve gone. And then, the thought struck me like lightning, and I screamed Yeri’s name as I dashed up towards our shared room, my hands shaking as I barged inside. The window was still open, a pink shawl on the floor as she lay on it, her eyes closed and—I stopped breathing as I kneeled next to her, unable to tell if she was dead or not. But gripping her cheeks painfully, she stirred and blinked her eyes open, confused and alarmed.

“Y/N?”

“Lock the door and the windows, do not go out until I say so,” I commanded as I rose to my feet, body now shaking from anger as I realised Yunho had tricked me on purpose so he could flee. I slammed the door behind myself and fled the mansion as well, sweating under the scorching hot sun as I turned around in one spot, trying to clear my mind to find Yunho. He was close, without drinking blood, he wasn’t as fast as usual, and the sun would also hurt him now, so I wondered where he was hiding. Taking a car would’ve been too obvious and loud, so that means…my eyes fell on the forest, and before I could blink my feet were already moving towards it, branches snapping under my weight as I ran fast, trying to track his scent down. The sounds of the forest felt disorienting with all the flowery scents making me feel nauseous, the birds chirping over my head feeling as if they were taunting me since I couldn’t hear Yunho’s heart anymore. I stopped to catch my breath and closed my eyes, hearing the creak not far from here. Would he go there to try and refresh himself before he continued trekking back to the city? And just like that, faint sweetness made my throat go dry. He was here, close by, and I would catch him.

I took off running again, pushing myself just a bit further despite the strong sun making my muscles ache, and I almost missed him as I wheezed past a deer. He was using it to mask himself, I smirked as I stopped behind a tree, watching the two move as one. The deer seemed almost unaware of Yunho’s presence right next to it, but Yunho’s narrowed eyes told me that he was trying to find me as he felt the place out. Without giving him the chance to find me, I pounced towards him, scaring the deer off as Yunho hissed when my body collided with his, pushing him down to the ground. The scenery felt eerily similar, except that it was daytime now and Yunho was as much of a vampire as me. The last I got to straddle him in a forest was the night I turned him into one of us after having played around with him for a bit. Yunho’s chest fell and rose rapidly, his eyes burning as he gripped my hips and tried to flip us over, but my thighs squeezed his torso firmly.

“Did you think you could outrun me?” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows at him, “You haven’t had any blood in three days after you were nearly drained, I thought you were smarter than that, Yunho.”

“How’s your sister doing, by the way?” The question paired with his insufferable smirk felt like a punch to my gut, and before I could stop myself, I landed a harsh slap across his cheek. Yunho’s head whipped to the side, but instead of the anger I was expecting, he started laughing, his shoulders shaking as he suddenly went lax underneath me. I glared at him as I gripped his jaw and forced him to face me, his cheeks and neck were red, his pointy lips chapped, and his dark blue hair messy.

“You’re fucking lucky I created you, Yunho.” I hissed, grip tightening on his jaw. He hummed, staring up at the clear sky.

“I almost thought you had forgotten about me,” It seemed like he wasn’t done taunting me as he pushed his lips out, looking up at me with his big eyes, “Shouldn’t you look out for me? See? You abandoned me again, and then you’re surprised I can’t trust you…”

“Quit the bullshit, Yunho.” I snapped, fed up with his attitude as he laughed, one hand sneaking to my lower back as I tensed, “You can’t leave until the coven hasn’t decided your fate. Joohyun won’t let you leave now, most likely, and it’s your fault.”

“Everything is always my fault,” Yunho groaned as he rolled his eyes, his other hand sneaking up on my thigh. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked down at his hand, feeling that warm flicker deep in my stomach. It was back, that feeling of belonging and lust as I stared at Yunho, confused by his words and actions, “If you would have just killed me, I would be out of your hair right now. Admit it, Y/N, you wanted someone to play with and that’s why you walked away in the end.”

“I did not want anything to do with the man that tried to kill my sister—” My words died in my throat when I was suddenly flipped over, my back hitting the cold ground. I froze as Yunho now kneeled between my legs, his hands trailing up my thighs as I frowned at him. This wasn’t like the Yunho I knew, he’d be threatening me and trying to kill me by now. What was his plan?

“And yet here you are, with him between your legs and his fangs sunken deep into your neck.” He smirked as he lowered himself, biting my jaw mockingly as I tried to slap his head away, but his fingers intertwined with mine, hands immobilised on both sides of my head.

“Yunho—” My warning fell on deaf ears as his teeth sunk into my neck, a moan falling past my lips as the initial pain didn’t even come this time, just soaring hotness that travelled through every limb, alighting the dormant fire underneath my skin. My head fell back as my fingers tightened against Yunho’s, his heavier body pressing mine firmly down into the ground. He grunted as he took more blood, his hips grinding down almost teasingly as my eyebrows furrowed, stomach clenching in yearning, “I thought you didn’t feed from living people.”

Yunho chuckled as he pulled back, licking my neck and kissing up to my ear, where he nibbled on my lobe, “You are not alive, though, and I think I found a new way to feed. Aren’t you just so pliant, Y/N?”

My jaw clenched and I turned my head swiftly, aiming to headbutt him, but he was faster. Yunho laughed, thrusting once as my thighs tightened around his hips, my eyes bleeding into his with anger, “You don’t seem to hate it as much as you make it seem.”

“Get off, Yunho!” I snapped, ripping my hands out of his as he slightly leaned back, tilting his head in amusement, “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”

He grinned and braced his weight on his hands, but he didn’t sit back. I glared at him, but he didn’t seem to care as he pretended to think, “You said I have a price, and you’re right. Your little sister is well and alive once again, how about we make a little deal?”

That sounded horrible, “What deal?”

He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to my lips, and I should’ve been embarrassed that I chased after his lips when he pulled back. Yunho was amused by it, one hand coming to cradle my cheek as he hummed, “I saved your little sister, you help me find someone…”

“You saved her?” My laugh was humourless, “After you killed her, right…”

“Song Mingi.” Yunho snapped suddenly, his features darkening. So, he was done playing around, huh?

“What about him?”

“You said I have a price, and that it comes with him, well you were right. That Seungwan girl…she seems to know him.” Right, Seungwan could find anyone in a matter of hours, “Yeri is alive, so help me find him.”

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head, “Who’s he to you?”

Yunho looked reluctant to speak, but he gave in when I raised both eyebrows, “Someone whose life I ruined a long time ago. I was foolish and I went back to my coven thinking they’d help me, instead, they locked me up and started experimenting with my blood when they realised I was half human. Mingi…he’s a victim of that experiment, he’s…he’s like me just more…violent.”

Understanding washed over me as Yunho’s eyes lowered, “You created him, didn’t you?”

He looked at me without answering, and I just knew, “You love him.”

Yunho’s jaw clenched and I scoffed, something like regret, anger, and disgust swirling in my stomach, “You want me to find your lover for you after you killed mine?”

“You can do whatever you want with me once I know Mingi is well and alive, just help me out this once.” He didn’t look into my eyes, but he looked so small as he lowered his head. I scoffed, wanting to refuse him, to rip his head off, but I couldn’t. The pain, the uncertainty and the yearning of not knowing what happened to your lover hit me like a truck, and I felt pity for Yunho because I knew what that felt like.

“Once you find Mingi, you’ll never cross my path, do you understand?” My eyes were hard and my voice cold as he looked at me, face impassive, “And if I see either one of you, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Deal.” Yunho didn’t even miss a beat as he sat back, extending one hand.

“Make it a blood promise,” I smirked as Yunho’s jaw clenched, but he bit into his palm and so did I, our blood smearing together once we shook hands.

“I’ll leave your coven alone, then, but if I see you or Yeri, you’ll be dead.” I chuckled and nodded, sitting up as Yunho got off me, surprisingly even helping me up. He remained gripping my arm as he pulled me close into himself, his eyes soft for the first time I’ve known him.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned down, our lips meeting in a soft kiss. I gripped his nape and pushed up on my tiptoes, our lips locking together as Yunho hummed, pressing more kisses against my lips as we pulled apart.

“Thank you too, although I’ll never forgive you.” Yunho smiled, stepping back.

“That’s alright, I’ll never forgive you either.” I nodded, watching him step into the sun, making me wonder how one man could be as beautiful as Yunho. Before he departed, however, he seemed to linger for a second, his eyebrows furrowed.

“There was a belief in my coven…that a soul that is suddenly ripped away from this realm will wander back to claim what’s theirs.” I didn’t understand what he meant by that, but before I could question it, he continued, “How long has it been since I killed Seonghwa?”

I froze, breath stuttering in my throat, “Are you saying—”

“He’s around, you just have to find him.” A small smile settled over Yunho’s lips as I felt tears brimming my eyes, hands shaking. He turned his back to me with a chuckle, waving his fingers as he took off, walking further into the trees.

“I’ll stop by to get my refill later this week!” Yunho’s voice called as I listened to his even heartbeat, feeling weak all of a sudden as I had to lean against a tree for support. I had Yeri back, and now all I had to do was find Seonghwa once again. A shuddered breath left my lips as I smiled, flipping Yunho off before I started walking back to the mansion, keeping to the shade since I was already feeling lightheaded.

Maybe keeping him alive was the best decision I could’ve made, after all.

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[mameillieureennemie]

Could I please suggest Sub!vi with Dom! Reader riding Vi’s face and vi cums untouched and is punished for it????

You don’t have to if you dont want to

Thanks!

-saturn

ohoho this idea had me going a bit crazy, i shan't lie to you...i hope you enjoy 👀

cw: sub!vi, dom!afab!reader, praise kink, 18+ so minors DNI or else

"such a good girl," you praise softly, smiling down at vi's pleading doe eyes. they close briefly when you grip her hair, hold solid as you rock against her mouth. her nose brushes against your clit with each thrust, causing your breath to hitch and your hips to grind harder. "doing so well for me, aren't you?"

vi's eyes cross slightly at the still pouring praise, her hands grabbing the curves of your hips like a lifeline. she hums against your sopping hole, the vibrations having you hissing, body jerking at the sensation.

"fuck vi," you gasp, fucking her face a little faster. you grab at one of your tits with your free hand, twisting the perked nipple until there's a hint of pain to the pleasure. "you're being so, ah, so good for me and—" you shudder when vi whimpers against your pussy, her head tilting up so her lips can wrap around your clit. "yes, yes—"

vi's like a live wire beneath you, her nails digging into the plush of your hips. she's staring up at you, mesmerised and face wet from the last two times you came. her skin's all flushed, a darling pink a few shades too light to match her hair. but she's gorgeous, especially when she's desperate and needing to come for the past hour.

but she's holding on for you because you told her not to come. you told that she isn't allowed until you've used her mouth to the point of satisfaction. and there's nothing more that matters to vi on this earth than pleasing you. she'd be damned if she disobeyed you; but you can see that she's faltering.

you can feel her twitching, can see the telltale sign that she's about to erupt because she loves the taste of your pussy. she's come many times from just a drop on her tongue alone; now her mouth's been flooded with it. her senses are overwhelmed with you, and she's falling fast.

"vi," you breathe, inflicting a strict tone, the one that usually has vi whining. "don't you dare come. if you come, i'll be so disappointed and you won't be my good girl anymore."

vi's eyes grow teary, as if saying she can't hold on because you taste so good, smell so good. so you lift off her face, watch her gasp for air before she's saying, "please please please—" all needy, moaning pathetically as she watches you rub at your clit in fast circles. the wet slick sound of your cunt fills the room, along with your gasping moans as you start to cum again all over vi's face and—

"i'm, i'm sorry—!" vi breathes before she's crying out, eyes rolling back as she shakes beneath you. the sight of her losing it pushes you further, drawing out your orgasm until you have to rip your hand away with a whimper.

it's a minute before you're both able to calm down, still trembling with the force of a shared orgasm. you draw in a breath, close your eyes before you're shifting your body to lay on top of vi fully.

vi's got her eyes closed, mostly to avoid your potential disappointed gaze. but she doesn't resist when you dip your slick-coated fingers into her mouth, moaning as she suckles on them greedily.

"such a bad girl," you bemoan, taking in the tempting sight of vi greedily chasing your taste. "i told you not to come and what did you do?"

"...i came," she murmurs sadly around your fingers. "i'm sorry...i didn't—"

you take your fingers out of her mouth before gripping her chin between your index finger and thumb. you squeeze until she opens her eyes, all dejected like a bullied puppy dog. you smile at her, deceptively comforting before you're leaning in to give her a kiss.

"i know you're sorry," you whisper against her lips. "but i'm still upset so..." you trail a hand down until you're playing with the hair around her wet pussy. "you're gonna have to make me feel better."

vi swallows, the flush on her cheeks darkening, as she takes in a breath.

"will you be good this time?" you purr sweetly. "take your punishment like the good girl i know you are?"

the nod vi gives is frantic, her thighs closing around your hand when it slips down to tease at her clit.

"good girl."

[morganaawriterr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Home;

Pairing; fem!reader x old lover!Jungwon Synopsis; Years after an abrupt breakup, you and your first love, Jungwon, meet again at a gathering, and the changes in both of you are undeniable. As tension rises between you two, old feelings resurface, though the wounds from the past remain. After a night of wine and confrontation, you find yourself back at his place, where the lines between love, regret, and longing blur. But the next morning, faced with reality, you are heartbroken by the truth that you can’t undo the past. Genre; Angst (fluff if you squint) Warning; Heavy tension; Mentions of alcohol and getting drunk; MASTERLIST;

A/N: Bruh, i hyperfocused on this story for like 5 hours I can't stand it anymore hahahah. But, I hope you guys enjoy reading, sorry to break your heart. As always, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much <3

It had been so long since Jungwon last saw you, and you looked so different now. Your expression was serious, and your makeup was heavier than before: thick black eyeliner outlined your eyes, making you appear at least two years older than your actual age. Your perfume wasn’t the familiar floral scent you once adored. Instead, it was a sophisticated aroma Jungwon couldn’t quite identify. You hadn’t grown an inch taller, but you were noticeably thinner, likely due to your busy lifestyle.

Your hair, once long, curly, and brown—falling freely down your back like a chocolate waterfall—was now straight, black, and barely reached below your tattooed shoulders.

Jungwon couldn’t help but admire how happy you seemed, chatting with Sunoo at the dinner table. Silently, he observed you. Your full lips, painted with dark lipstick, captivated him as you spoke, his gaze following their every move. If Jungwon had thought you were beautiful before, now you were utterly breathtaking.

What hurt him the most was how you glanced at him from across the table, as if he weren’t the first boy you had ever loved, as if he weren’t the one you trusted most, and as if you hadn’t broken his heart.

“Ugh, my head.” You giggled, your cheeks reddening from too much wine, as a headache began to creep in. Your gaze swept over the large table, fondly noting how much your old group of friends had grown and changed over the years.

“You should stop drinking,” Jungwon advised suddenly, reaching over to take the wine bottle and place it out of your reach. It was the first time he had spoken to you that night.

“You should stop pretending that my presence doesn’t bother you.” You snapped back, venom lacing your words as you grabbed the bottle again. You hated how he still tried to look after you, even after everything that had happened between you two.

The table fell silent for a moment as everyone exchanged uneasy glances. Everyone was aware of the heavy tension between the two of you. When Heeseung had planned this dinner, he assumed you both had moved on, given how much time had passed. But it seemed the unresolved emotions were still lingering.

“Guys, it’s getting late. We’re heading out…” Sunghoon announced, sounding annoyed, as his tipsy girlfriend whispered in his ear about how tired she was again.

“Yeah, I have work in the morning,” Heeseung agreed, rolling his eyes at the thought of his demanding boss.

The three of them left, leaving the atmosphere even heavier between the remaining group. You glanced at the untouched plate in front of you, unable to eat. You were too distracted with the presence of your first love. You wanted to show him you were doing just fine without him, but the way he looked at you—with the same deep affection as before—made your heart ache.

As the evening dragged on, your friends gradually left until only you, Sunoo, and Jungwon stayed. The atmosphere was laced with awkwardness and stolen glances. You were completely drunk, struggling to form coherent sentences, and your whole body was warm and wobbly.

“It’s late, dummy. Let’s go.” Sunoo spoke gently, taking your hand and attempting to help you stand.

“Noooo,” you whined, your eyes shut tightly, lips pouting, and arms crossed like a stubborn child. “Sunoo, I want to finish the wine.” Speaking in fragmented sentences, you explained how expensive it was and how you didn’t want it to go to waste.

Sunoo sighed, annoyed. He just wanted to rest, but your drunk antics were testing his patience. That’s when he had an idea—Jungwon. If Jungwon gave you a ride home, it would give you two a chance to talk and you would be safe at home. When Sunoo first told Jungwon, he wanted to laugh at the request, his palms sweating at the idea of being alone with you. But Sunoo was persistent and cute, so Jungwon ended up agreeing

While the boys were talking, you were busy studying your past lover. His beautiful blonde hair, wide shoulders and irresistible boba eyes... he was driving you crazy. Jungwon could feel your eyes burning holes into him and when he finally dared to look at you, you bit your lip and stared at the floor, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

After a few minutes of loud silence, Jungwon noticed the bottle was finally empty. “The wine is gone. Come on, let’s get you home,” He said softly, extending his arm to help you up. You took it without hesitation.

As the two of you stepped outside, you couldn’t help but wonder about the word “home.” Did Jungwon know he was your home? Did he know the only place you wanted to be was in his embrace? You doubted it.

Jungwon’s scent overwhelmed you, fresh yet sweet, just as you remembered. It was so familiar that whenever you encountered someone wearing the same cologne, it instantly reminded you of him and his adorable laugh.

You started to feel dizzy and weak, your legs barely supporting the weight of your melancholic body. A wave of guilt and longing drowned you, but you bit your lip, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

It only got worse when you stepped into his car. His scent was everywhere, clinging to the air around you. The familiarity hit you like a loaded train, and as your heart recognized the fragrance, the guilt stirred violently inside you. You hated yourself for giving up so easily, for abandoning a love as beautiful as the one you shared.

Jungwon’s worried glances didn’t go unnoticed as he steadily drove toward your place. His eyes flickered toward you in the rearview mirror, filled with concern. He wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension. He wanted to tell you he didn’t hate you, even though you might believe otherwise but he couldn't.

The plan had been to drop you off at your place, but when you suddenly felt sick and were on the verge of throwing up, Jungwon made a split-second decision. He pulled over at his apartment instead, deciding to help you sober up before taking you home.

He stayed quiet as he helped you into his empty apartment and walked you to the bathroom. The tension was suffocating, but he focused on the task at hand. He turned on the water, planning to help you take a warm shower to sober up. But as he stepped away for a moment, your body gave out and you collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

“YN!” Jungwon cried out, panic evident in his voice. His strong arms quickly wrapped around you, lifting your vulnerable body. He gently sat you on the toilet, his face etched with concern as he began to help you undress.

His fingers grazed your stomach as he tried to take off your shirt, and you whined softly, lazily pushing his hands away.

“Your hands are cold…” you mumbled, your head thrown back against the wall, eyes shut tightly. Then, almost surrendered, you added, “But, keep going.”

After a careful glance at you, he continued. Jungwon gently pulled the black t-shirt over your head as you lifted your arms to help him.

You stayed silent as his fingers undid the button of your jeans, sliding them down your legs. Now, only in your underwear, you made no move to resist. The only sounds in the room were the hum of the shower and your soft, bored noises. Jungwon’s heart pounded loudly in his chest, the proximity killing him.

“Can you stand while I adjust the water, or do you need help?” he asked, his voice calm but concerned.

You opened your eyes, meeting his soft brown gaze. They looked so tired, so hurt. And perhaps you were the reason behind that pain. Your eyes lingered on his, missing him more than the air you breathe.

Jungwon broke the eye contact first, his cheeks flushing under your intense stare. You weakly pushed yourself to your feet, leaning heavily against the cold tiles for support. The bathroom quickly filled with warm steam, clouding your vision and hiding him from view, which you were thankful for.

Without warning, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you effortlessly into the shower stall. Warm water cascaded over your body, making you gasp. As he stepped back to give you space, you finally broke down, quiet sobs escaping your lips.

Your cries were soft but loud enough for him to hear, each sound piercing his heart. Kneeling under the relentless spray of water, you finally let the words you had been holding in spill out:

“I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to leave you, but I had to. My parents made me go to the US to keep me away from you. They didn’t like you, Jungwon. You know how they were—they would’ve ruined your life if I stayed. I’m so sorry… I didn’t want to make your life harder.”

Jungwon froze, his heart shattering at your confession. “Y/N, baby…” he whispered, his voice breaking. He shouldn’t give in—he knew that. But hearing you bare your heart like this was too much.

“I know you hate me. You should,” you continued, your voice trembling. “But I’ve always loved you… I never stopped.”

Jungwon’s mind screamed at him to step away, to protect himself, but he couldn’t. Instead, he knelt before you, his hands finding yours. He pulled you to your feet and, without hesitation, pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was slow and tender, filled with longing and heartbreak. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears mingling with the water.

“I missed you so much,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

“I missed you too, baby. More than you can imagine,” Jungwon replied softly, his forehead resting against yours.

Despite the tears streaming down your cheeks and the ache in your chest, you smiled—a sweet, innocent smile that caught Jungwon off guard. It was a smile so pure that he couldn’t help but return, his heart swelling with the overwhelming realization that he was still, completely and utterly, in love with you.

He leaned in once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow and romantic. It wasn’t rushed or desperate but filled with care. His lips moved against yours with tenderness, as if you might shatter in his hands.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, you reached for him instinctively, your hands gripping his wet shirt as you pulled him closer. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, his embrace enveloping you like the warmth of home. The water from the shower poured over you both, but Jungwon didn’t care. Not about the guilt. Not about the soaked clothes. Nothing else mattered when you were in his arms.

Once the shower was over, he handed you a pair of his clothes—a long blue t-shirt that you recognized immediately and a pair of boxers. He helped you into the bed, tucking you under the covers that smelled faintly of him. You sank into the warmth and comfort, feeling safe in his world once again.

Jungwon, however, didn’t join you. He retreated to the couch, leaving you alone in his bed. The action was strange, but your body was too heavy and your mind too tired to dwell on it. The moment your head hit the pillow, you drifted into a deep sleep.

“Yes, she’s on the bed… Don’t worry, nothing happened.”

The words floated through your hazy mind, muffled and distorted as though they were part of a dream. But as your eyes opened, the voices didn’t fade.

Sleepily, you shuffled toward the kitchen, drawn by the sound of muffled conversation. Peeking in, your heart crumbled at the sight before you.

Jungwon was talking to another woman.

His smile was radiant—so big and genuine that it stopped you in your tracks. You couldn’t recall ever seeing him smile like that, not even with you. She was smiling too, her expression genuine and pure. The sight made your stomach stir.

Your throat tightened as your eyes filled with tears. The knot in your chest grew unbearable, and you felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. You turned away, retreating to the bathroom on shaky legs.

Inside, you dressed quickly, wanting to just leave his house. Standing before the mirror, you stared at your reflection—pathetic and broken. You bit your bottom lip nervously, a hopeless attempt to suppress the sob that threatened to escape.

What were you expecting? That after all this time, Jungwon would still be waiting for you, alone? How foolish. How naive.

“YN…” His voice called from the other side of the door, soft but steady.

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. Without a word, you opened the door and stepped out.

Jungwon’s eyes immediately searched your face. “Let me explain—” he started, his voice gentle but urgent.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” you interrupted, your voice firm despite the tremble underneath. “You’ve moved on, and that’s okay. The only thing I wanted was to tell you that I’m sorry. Thank you for taking care of me yesterday.”

The words spilled from your lips in a rush, leaving no room for protest. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you, leaving behind a confused cousin and your heartbroken lover.

Tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to keep moving. Your chest ached, and your throat burned as you swallowed the sobs threatening to escape. The truth was undeniable: the past couldn’t be undone. And now, you had to face the reality that the man you loved had found happiness without you. Or that's what you thought.

Taglist: @grandlightcandy @seokseokjinkim @strxwbloody @enhasunghoonishot @contyynishimura @heewanrik @ranwonbin @leanderexists @lovelyyf @youngheejay @crimson-reaper576 @rikifever @mrsjjongstby @laurradoesloveu @babyboomysweetie @mintchocos-things @nxzz-skz @saphiranishimurashan @ikeupups @yangjungwonnie @xiiaobaoo @itsuen If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[secondsonaym]

Ayo so what's going on

Hey so. No doubt you've noticed I am Not Really Doing Shit here anymore.

And. There's a lot of reasons for that.

Gonna put the bulk of it under the readmore, but I highly recommend you look it over, if you ever enjoyed the AU to any capacity.

The one I've talked to you guys about a loooot is that my disabilities (chronic fatigue+migraines) flared up pretty hard in the later half of the summer last year, and have been in constant flux following, only just recently having stabilized a little to the point I can be somewhat regularly productive.

But they're still disabilities, and they could pop back up at any point.

Another reason is simply that my focus has drifted elsewhere. I have ADHD, and experience fixations a lot, and while Cult of the Lamb was one of my longer ones, it's definitely started to wane (There's a mix of reasons why it is, but none I can really articulate without sounding like I'm blaming others, which I don't want to do)

So my mind has been drifting back to a more neutral state, letting myself enjoy other things without the constant feeling of "I should be writing the AU. I should be drawing the AU. I should be updating the AU."

And when in this neutral state, I've been letting my interests drift carefully back to my Original ideas and projects. As in. Stories and characters I made up with my own brain, separate of fandom.

Because while I love fandom, fandom can't exactly pay the bills unless your fork over your soul to it, and I don't really want to do that.

So I've been finally returning to my original story and large headworld, Court of Fools.

I want to make a game for it, I want to make things for the larger lore and worldbuilding, I want to share it with people. But I can't do that if I'm focusing on fandom work to the extent I did with the AU.

Would I like to have the AU in a sort of finished state where people aren't left with a billion questions? Well, sure. But it would be a lot of work still. There's still a LOT of story beats and details in my brain, but I just never got a good chance to get them out, and now the prime opportunity has passed.

I wouldn't say that means I'd leave this blog a wasteland, perhaps I'll come back with doodles and stuff now and then, but. I guess, basically, the AU likely isn't going to be touched in any large capacity for a while? Maybe if I can organize some sort of schedule, I could find a way to dripfeed more stuff back here, so I wouldn't say it's 100%, totally, for-sure, absolutely dead. It's just... Not my creative priority.

I would hope that through the AU, I have made you interested in my art and storytelling as a whole, because if you did enjoy those aspects, separate of the fact that it was a fandom work, then I would highly recommend you stick with me and see my work on Court of Fools and its larger world--It's my passion project, so I'll be giving it my absolute best all the way through, too.

Things have been silent on it for a while, primarily because of my fixation on Cult of the Lamb, so I'm really gearing up to get back to it.

My first plan is to make a smaller game, or games, set in the same world--something to get back into Ren'Py properly, practice implementing certain gameplay elements I want to have, and so on. I'll be sure to make a proper announcement on the relevant spaces when I do get into that more formally. Catch me on bluesky!

In the meantime, if you'd still like to be in my general sphere and see me create, I do still do adopts and stuff over on my ko-fi. For as little as $1 a month, you can see my concepts, preclaim adopts, and get monthly doodles, so please consider checking it out--I'm, currently trying to meet a goal for survivability, as my disabilities really destroyed my ability to do things the past few months.

Sooo, yeah. I think that's the bulk of what I wanted to say? In summary:

AU is going Super Dormant and you likely won't hear from me here without long stretches in between

I'm working on more original stories and projects, hopefully a game

You can find and support me on ko-fi, which will really help mitigate stress from not being able to do much last year

Really sorry if this disappoints or surprises you, though I'm fairly sure a lot of you saw this coming. So. Here's just a formal confirmation or whatever, I guess.

I'll catch you later!

[meowmeowmessi]

Honestly, as much as well talk about it, I kinda don't seen City as an option just becauss they've built their team over the last 2 years, including ofc Grealish who also plays as a 10 and is a starter, and it doesn't feel like they'd want to make any big transfers now. But still I guess we will see in the transfer window for sure, both for City's squad and Messi's decision.

appreciate the reality check, anons 🥲 it's all on leo and whether he believes in whatever "sports project" nonsense pissg is feeding him atp. i seriously doubt he's going to stay in the tinpot club for much longer (dear god let this not be a jinx), but considering barça's financial situation rn, not to mention tebas,,, i really don't think it's a feasible option. and i don't want it to be, either :// not at this moment, anyway. so yes, we can only wait and see what happens in the next transfer window. i'm not too worried about his options tbh— it's fucking messi, not just any random player: all it takes is the news "he is wants to leave" to break out just like the burofax in 2020 and he'll have clubs lining up at his doorstep

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[yougavememyopia]

Kidnapper! Yandere (2)

-----------------------♡♡-------------------------

Tags: PT 1. 18+, desperate sub, angst ig, finger sucking, spit (a bit), choking, handjob

-----------------------♡♡-------------------------

"Are you not gonna talk to me?" Your kidnapper pouted, tilting his head innocently. He was good at pretending like the situation you were in was normal. "Come on, I thought you enjoyed last night..."

The events replayed in your head. You felt a rush of heat as you recalled the events. Your body was sore. Very, very sore.

"I'll wait as long as it takes, y'know. Just gonna sit here, and cuddle with you until you speak. Or you could talk to me now... Please?"

His side hug got tighter as silence grew. He whined loudly, burying his face in your marked neck. Your arms rested on your lap. You were not tied anymore. Free to do as you please. Not like you could walk though.

He had you dressed in clothes he stole from you before. They smelled like him. His embrace was warm, comfortable. Was it wrong to hug him back? You hadn't spoken since breakfast, trying to sort your feelings while he rested his head on your chest.

"Am I really that unlovable?" He whispered, but you heard him. You heard the pain in his voice, the shaky breath that escaped him. He was going to cry. Last time, it was out of pleasure when he was buried deep inside you, confessing his love over and over again.

He stopped hugging you, sitting up right. You shifted your position and looked at him. Those tears made you feel different. A bad twist in your stomach. Your hands gripped the fabric of your pants tighter, unsure of what to do.

"I thought I was doing something right. I was so convinced that after last night, things would be different. I thought everything would be different. I love you! I showed you how much love I can give you. In every way possible. I'd do anything for you. Isn't that enough?"

You held in your sigh. Poor, delusional boy. Mistaking true love for an obsession. Kidnapping, forcing, manipulating, all in the name of love. You shouldn't blame him. Apperently, no one taught him how to behave normally.

"W-why are you looking at me like that? Please don't look at me like that! I can't have you hate me. Please don't hate me. Please. Please. Please."

He was sobbing loudly. He was always very loud. Very emotional. Very weak. He was shaking. Snot running down his nose and he quickly wiped them with his sleeve.

"I don't want you to leave. I don't want to be alone. I need you. I need you. I can't live without you. I can't breathe without you. I'll die without you!"

He grabbed the hand you reached out to him. Holding it with his unusually cold hands. His whole body was shaking, his other hand wrapped around his mouth to silence himself, his fat tears still streaming down his face. He seemed out of it, staring at the floor with wide eyes while you stared at him profile. Then he fell down to the floor. Right in front of the couch, on his knees, looking up at you. His hands clasped around yours as he started pleading with you.

"You're angry, right? That's all, you're just angry! That's okay. You can take it all out on me. I don't mind it. At all. My body is for your use. I'm yours. I'm all yours. So go on. Hit me. Slap me. Punch me. Spit on me. Step on me. Choke me. Abuse me. What will make you satisfied? Please, tell me..."

He looked up at you with glassy eyes. His tears finally stopped. He loosened his grip on your hand, and you quickly cupped his face. He sighed in relief, nuzzling into your palm. He was waiting. Waiting for your answer, your approval, any scrap of love that you'll give to him. He needed it so badly that he was willing to do anything.

"Use me. Degrade me. Control me. Just talk to me. Pay attention to me. Love me! Please! I'm yours. I'm all yours to use."

You grazed his bottom lip, his lips immediately parted. You mumbled to him to lick your fingers. Your index and middle rubbing against his tongue. He moaned, immediately lapping your skin. His mouth closed around them, and he sucked while keeping eye contact. His lewd look was enough to send a rush between your legs.

"Aah~" He kept making sounds as he licked between your fingers. His face twisted in pleasure. Laying his head on the soft plush of your thigh. He pulled away, and you allowed him to talk. "Punish me. Please punish me. I've been a bad boy, right? You can't just let me get away with it. You need to teach me a lesson-!"

He groaned out the last word as your leg pressed against the hardness of his pants. You sighed, feeling him go stiff. "Sure, I'll teach you a lesson."

"Mmh, ah.. thank you. Fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't say it enough. Now please, please, use me. Use me. I'm yours. I'm yours. Yoursyoursyoursyours!"

You stopped moving your leg against his crotch, and he stopped humping it. Each movement was making him more excited, but he didn't protest when you stopped. You patted the spot next to you, and he obediently came back to sit on the couch.

"Let me tell you what's going to happen." You face him, holding his hands in yours. He squeezed them, and you assumed that was his way of ignoring the tent in his pants. "Things are going to be different. You're not gonna hold me hostage. I'm allowed to leave. But I'll live with you. And we could be like spouses or whatever you said last night."

His face went through several emotions. From excited, to confused, to scared, and back to happy. He opened his mouth, but you immediately shushed him. You covered his mouth, glaring at him. "You're not allowed to talk until after I'm done helping you with your problem."

He nodded. You felt him gulp as you stared at the bulge in front of his pants. Your own core throbbed. The thought of seeing him make those noises and look at you with that lovesick look on his face had you clenching your thighs together. Last night was all about making you come, so you never actually got to see him. You felt excited. "Let me see you. Go on."

He immediately pulled down his pants and boxers, his cock springing out. Precum was rolling down the tip, his legs spread wider, and his hands grabbed the sides of the couch. He whimpered as you stared at him for a bit. You started by spitting down on him, grazing his tip with your thumb before stroking his length. There was no need for it, but you just wanted to test out all the things he said before. He reacted by pushing his hips up. His thighs were shaking. His head fell back, and his back arched.

"Nngh! Fuck.. Aah, that feels so good. Thank.. you-!" The look he gave you was filled with absolute love. His words all mumbled up. "B-but why aren't you punishing me? I thought-"

You cut him off by speeding up. He whined loudly, hips thrusting up to meet with your strokes. "Let's take it easy right now, okay? Plus, we have plenty of time for all that."

"But you should punish me 'cause I'm about to come. Ah! Sorry! Sorry.. can't take much more. It feels so good! Ah, fuck."

You chuckled. "Come on then. Come for me." Your other grabbed his throat and squeezed it. His hips thrusted up immediately. He made a loud pleasured noise, his teary eyes fluttering shut as he finished. His stomach got all messy, as did your hand. You helped him calm down through his high, giving a few gentle strokes. "There you go. Good boy. Such a good boy..."

Your clean hand met up to stroke his hair while he cried happily. Whispering thank you's, and opening his mouth to clean your fingers from his release. Smiling happily at you as you messaged his scalp. His hair was so soft. You gripped his chin, leaning in to kiss his lips.

"You know if you do that, I'll get excited again.. And then you'll have to punish me for real."

You softly laughed, deciding to kiss him anyway. He responded by pressing his lips happily against yours. His mouth opened to allow your tongue in. Soft sounds escaping botn of you. Last night was repeating itself. This time, it'll be all about him.

[honey-tongued-devil]

HEYY

i saw the vi x chubby user and as a chubby girl I NEED more of the girlies x chubby user. please 🙀

[Arcane preference (girlies)] with a chubby s/o

I made you wait so long for nothing, I’m sorry if it’s short, BUT I haven’t forgotten about you!

Jinx:

- Forget that thing called “personal space.”

- If you want to sleep with her, you’ll be the little spoon, and she’ll even throw herself on top of you. She loves feeling human warmth, and with a partner with more body mass, it’s not painful to stay in a long embrace because no (or almost no) bones are attacking her.

- She pinches your love handles and thighs, then bursts out laughing. It's done with tenderness, she loves it to bits, and it’s something extremely rare in Zaun.

- If you can't find anything your size, she'll sew it for you from leftover fabric, or by beating up a passerby to steal their clothes. Either way, you don’t have to worry.

- If you even try to say the words "lose weight," she’ll furrow her brow, deeply offended: you’re hers, and if you lose mass, she has less of you for herself, which means you’re trying to take something from her.

- Which means for the following week, she’ll do everything to make you eat more, terrified that you might lose weight.

Vi:

- What’s the point of being so strong if not to lift you into her arms effortlessly?

- She makes you stay on her back while doing push-ups, carries you to the bedroom, and holds you on her lap on the couch.

- She’s a fighter, not a coward. If she can’t lift you, it’s not that you weigh too much, but that she’s too weak. And within three days, she’ll make sure she fixes this shortcoming.

- But it never actually happens. Vi never misses an opportunity to show you how strong she is and how special you are.

- When you talk under the blankets, she often loses herself playing with your soft spots, almost as if she’s relaxing.

Caytlin:

- She sits on your lap, but if you want, you can sit on her without any issues.

- She loves your body to bits, and if you try to hide it, she might put on a little show just to take off your shirt and enjoy what you were hiding, like your belly.

- Clothes aren’t a problem; she’ll have them made so that they not only fit you but also highlight your best features.

- No jokes here—when you go out together, she wants the world to see how proud she is of her partner and how attractive they are. So, she takes care of your preparation herself, even stealing a kiss here and there, but letting you choose what you want to wear.

Mel:

- She has a personal tailor who makes coordinated outfits for every occasion. She can’t let you look bad, and she wouldn’t want to, so she personally ensures every detail reflects you.

- She knows what you like and dislike, so she can correct the sketches herself, so when the clothes arrive, they’ll be a complete surprise.

- When you're in public, she likes to sit on your lap, if the occasion is casual enough to allow it. Otherwise, she’ll leave subtle lipstick marks on you before leaving, just enough to discreetly remind people you’re with her.

- She likes being the little spoon, feeling protected and vulnerable at least in one place, even though, subconsciously, she changes position while she sleeps. But in any case, feeling your softness against her gives her comfort.

Sevika:

- Think you’re big? Be more humble.

- She lifts you like you’re a little bunny, carries you around on her shoulder, takes you to bed in her arms, and constantly pulls you onto her lap, always keeping one hand on your waist.

- She loves skin-to-skin contact, and she’s strong enough to lift you completely onto her shoulders, with your back against the wall, and hold you like that until her ‘hunger’ passes (or until you can’t take it anymore).

- She’s still terrified of hurting you, so she always keeps you on the side of her good arm, so she doesn’t damage your body with her prosthetic limb.

- When you’re resting, she pulls you completely up onto her, no matter how tall or heavy you are, constantly reminding you that she’s big and strong enough.

[forlix]

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «kyeyoungkim@snu.edu» To: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «ndaldello@pvm.com» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. But only sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It really fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I’ll genuinely commit homicide if I have to do all this again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 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 ♡

[sturnsdarling]

are you still awake?

Chris and y/n had a stupid fight, but he refuses to go to bed angry

part two

vibe check: fluffy and suggestive towards the end, softie!chris, mentions of fighting etc, you get the jist bro

900 words

A/N: I LOVE CHRIS he's so fricken cute I wanna pull my hair out. kid said he can't go to bed angry at his brothers and I died. anyways enjoy this blurb of my little angel baby princess

love and cigs, merc

You and Chris were laying back to back in his bedroom, feet tangled in each others at the foot of the bed. The room was completely dark, a light patter of warm LA rain creating the perfect atmosphere in the room for you to slip into a peaceful sleep. You were stretched out in his bed, hugging the cold side of your pillow as you dozed off, having had a long and stressful day, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Chris on the other hand, was wide awake. He had been tossing and turning for hours, unable to quiet his mind. Earlier that day, you guys had a stupid argument that was so pointless you didn't even remember how it started. After a back and forth of who's right and who's wrong, you took off in a huff and told Chris you were going to bed, because you couldn't be bothered to argue with him anymore. In the moment, he didn't care, angry enough to let you fall asleep by yourself.

But that was earlier, and after he crawled into bed, the sight of you peacefully tucked up in his sheets stripped him of any lingering anger, and all he wanted was to make sure that you were okay.

"baby" Chris whispered, turning to place a gentle hand on the side of your shoulder.

you didn't respond, only hugged the pillow tighter with a soft groan.

"baby" he repeated, "are you still awake?"

you groaned slightly, face smushed against your pillow as your eyes fluttered, "I am now, Chris"

Chris' arm gently wrapped around your waist and he peppered soft kisses on your bare shoulder, "I can't sleep after what happened earlier" he said softly.

"what are you talking about?" you sighed, turning round to face him, desperately trying to pry your eyes open.

He hovered over you, brushing your bed tangled hair from your face, "I can't go to sleep if I know we're not okay"

A long exhale left your nose as you rolled your eyes slightly, "we're fine, Chris, please go to sleep" you said, attempting to turn back to your comfortable position.

Chris couldn't accept that, he pulled you by the shoulder back over to face him, "what if tonight is the night one of us dies in our sleep? d'you really want to have to go on knowing that our last conversation was a fight?"

You tiredly chuckled, "you're ridiculous" you said, rolling your eyes slightly as a smile crept its way onto your face.

" m'serious, baby, I can't sleep knowing we're not good" he whined slightly, "m'sorry for everything I said, y'know I didn't mean it"

Your hand found his face in the dark, the light from the moon illuminating his soft features slightly as it crept its way through his blinds. An uncontrollable smile lingered on your lips as he pushed his cheek further into your touch.

"I'm sorry too, my love, it was stupid"

Chris grinned and lowered his lips to yours, pressing a soft and tender kiss over them, his hand hooked round your jaw. He broke the kiss gently, rubbing a caring thumb over your cheek as he did.

"can I go back to sleep now?" you muttered, your tiredness creeping back up on you.

"yes, baby, go to sleep, I love you" Chris replied, shifting so he was tucked behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him so tight you'd think he was afraid you'd slip away

"I love you more" you said with a sleepy groan, nestling yourself back into him, his frame engulfing you in a comfortable warmth.

"not possible" he whispered, pressing a loving kiss onto your shoulder.

You let out a tired hum at his words, pushing back into him even more as your legs intertwined with his. The feeling of your skin against his, your nearly bare ass pressing back into him and the sound of your sleepy whines all going straight to his crotch. The blood in his body started to rush downwards, and he found himself absentmindedly grinding his hips against the soft flesh of your ass.

His movements brought you back out of your approaching slumber and you instinctively pushed back against his now painfully hard length, the feeling of his hard cock making you giggle slightly.

"Really, Chris? now?" you whispered

Chris groaned slightly, grinding into you harder, "I cant help it, baby, y'know how I get after our post fight make up convos" he whined, referring to how every time you guys would fight and make up, you telling him that you loved him and that everything was okay just did something to him.

You brought your hand up behind you and raked it through his long curls, tugging at the root slightly as you massaged his scalp, giving in and grinding your ass back against his movements

The sensation made Chris whimper, and he began to nip and suck at your neck, "s'that a yes?" he said, still grinding into you

you chuckled, moving your hand down to palm him over his boxers, "yes, Chris, but you're doing all the work" your words muffled by your pillow.

Chris' hips bucked up into your hand, a boyish excitement filling his brain "s'fine by me, baby, you don't have to move at all, I jus wanna put it in for a lil, need t'feel you around me"

A/N: smutty part two? lmk

taglist: @sturniozalt @mattslolita @shaquilles-0atmeal @blahbel668 @sleepysturniolo @le4hsblog 

[fastandcarlos]

Engaged, When? : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: with all your friends settling down around you, you can't help but feel like you and charles are slipping away from everyone else

After what could only be described as the day from hell, the last thing you wanted to do was go out to a celebration. But that was exactly where you found yourself. Carlos’ and Rebecca’s apartment was bustling with people, noise and lots of excitement for the newly engaged couple. 

Whilst many others wore wild smiles on their faces, your expression couldn’t have been more different. All you wanted to do was go home and rest, but Charles refused to go to the party without you, ignoring your protests and encouraging you to show your face and happiness for the pair. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for them, because you were, if anything, you were disappointed for yourself. Whilst Charles mingled and made sure to say hello to as many people as possible, you preferred to hang back and blend in, simply doing enough to try and make it seem like you were enjoying yourself. 

If there was one person that you weren’t convincing though, it was Charles. Out of the corner of his eye he could see you looking far from impressed, you might be able to deceive most people, but not Charles. Through the dances and the chatter, he made his way over to you, with many of his bosses around, he still felt the need to impress. 

Your body tensed up as Charles came and stood beside you, “I know you’re tired but at least try and look like you want to be here, we’re supposed to be celebrating our friends right now.” 

“It’s lovely, imagine falling in love and getting engaged so quickly,” you mumbled, taking a sip from your drink. Charles hummed as he walked off, not quite getting what you were saying. 

Just as Charles walked off, another figure appeared beside you. The smile on Pierre’s face was comforting for you as he nudged your side, wanting to make you smile too. 

“I know how you’re feeling,” Pierre sympathised as Kika appeared beside him. “We’ve talked about this enough times, but I promise you that he really does adore you.” 

It was easy for others to tell you, but truthfully, you were far from sure anymore. You and Charles had been together for almost a decade, and yet your relationship felt like it was stagnant these days. 

“How many more engagements do we have to celebrate?” You asked the two of them. “How many more times do I have to stand here wondering when it might be my turn?” 

“I’m sure Charles has got his reasons,” Pierre tried his best to reassure you, but even he was confused these days. “You have to trust me though, he is still madly in love with you, Charles wouldn’t still be with you if that wasn’t the case.” 

“Why can he not show me then?” You shrugged, “it’s not even about proposing anymore, it’s about doing anything to show me how he feels.” 

You knew the honeymoon phase was never going to last forever, but after ten years with Charles you hoped the next stage was going to arrive soon. If you were honest, you’d hoped it would’ve arrived by now, especially after watching so many of your friends get engaged and seemingly leapfrog the two of you. 

“I absolutely know he wants to marry you,” Kika added, offering you a warm smile. “It might not feel that way right now being here, but trust me, he does want to.” 

Your head nodded as you tried to use Kika’s words to convince yourself. “I’m glad you guys all feel that way, it would just be nice to feel that way myself. I’m supposed to be happy for Carlos and Rebecca, and instead I’m stood here wondering what about me?” 

As you felt yourself hit a wall of emotion, you excused yourself from the pair and walked off to get yourself another drink. Your shoulder brushed past Charles as you did so, going to say your name, but you were already gone. He looked to Charles and Kika, heading over to them for answers. 

“Why are you both looking at me like that?” Charles questioned, feeling like he was in for a scolding. 

“She’s really upset Charles, have you not noticed?” Pierre asked him. 

“Yeah, I know she’s a bit tired.” 

“It’s not just that.” 

“No?” Charles questioned in surprise. “You mean to say there’s more to this?” He quizzed them both. 

As Pierre nodded, Charles followed you to just outside of Carlos’ apartment and onto the balcony. You were resting on the railing as his figure appeared beside you, eyes watching you closely as you gave away nothing to let Charles know what was wrong. 

“Talk to me,” Charles whispered, his voice soft and calm, “what else is going on love?” 

Your body shifted so that you were facing Charles, “I’m supposed to be happy for these two, but if I’m honest, all I can feel right now is jealousy and frustration.” 

Charles’ brows furrowed as you spoke before the realisation hit him. A sigh escaped as he realised finally what it was that you had been hinting at, not just tonight, but for so many years as you celebrated others. 

“It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but feel like these days we’re being left behind. We’ve just stayed exactly where we are for years,” you confided in him. 

“We’ve always been so strong together, getting engaged, married, having kids, whatever it is it doesn’t define the two of us,” Charles spoke, draping his arms across your shoulders. “Maybe I’ve just become so comfortable that I never really thought about us taking that next step too.” 

You hated the fact that you allowed getting engaged to turn into some sort of competition for you, but your mind could think of nothing else. “I just feel like after ten years it should have happened, or at least to me it feels like it should have happened by now.” 

Charles took yet another step closer towards you. “I’ve thought about marrying you, more than you could ever imagine. I guess I’ve just never really felt like I’ve found the right time to.” 

“Is that right time ever going to come?” You asked, “I mean I always thought we’d be the first ones to settle, have a family, grow old together, but now we’re back of the pack.” 

“We can still do all of those things Y/N.” 

Your eyes looked desperately back at Charles, “then can you please start making me feel like they might be possible someday?” 

Hearing the frustration in your voice sent a shiver down Charles’ spine. He’d never considered how you felt about proposing, marriage and everything else that life threw at you. But now as he looked at you, he could see just how much it truly meant. 

“Am I the person you want to be with? Forever?” You quizzed, “do you really see your future with me Charles?” 

He took a tight hold of your hand, bringing your head towards him and kissing the top of it. “There’s no doubt in my mind that I see forever with you. And I promise all of those things will happen for us, but when the time is right for us.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered back across at him. “I just needed to hear that to reassure myself, with everything that’s been happening for our friends, I guess I just let the doubt begin to creep in.” 

Charles hummed, understanding exactly how you were feeling. He'd become so comfortable in your relationship he’d forgotten to think about how you were feeling. But as he felt you press a kiss against his cheek, he knew he couldn’t do that any longer. 

“Who knows, maybe it’ll be us that we’re all celebrating next time,” Charles joked. 

“I might just hold you to that LeClerc.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[xiaowhore]

intoxicating.

premise. your boyfriend dumps you and says he doesn't love you anymore. of course, being the petty bitch that you are, you have to prove that you don't need him in your life either. and of course, intense emotions often lead to rash decisions, so you go to a bar in hopes of finding a new man.

somehow, even when all you've managed to do is scowl at anyone who approaches you and mope at the bar counter, you still manage to get one.

Wriothesley has dealt with his fair share of unruly drunks before, but they were something more along the lines of aggressive and sloppy, not depressed and sappy.

He finds that he'd rather manhandle angry alcoholics than a person who makes a slobbering mess all over his shirt, clinging to his arm and sobbing to his sleeve. Your body starts to sway even when he supports your weight, your footsteps unstable as your attempt to walk in a straight line fails entirely.

Okay, so maybe you are sloppy after all.

Wriothesley sighs and tightens his grip on your shoulders. There's no point in losing his patience with a drunk person. He didn't even mean to pick you up, it's just that as a police officer, his sense of responsibility makes him want to fix a troublesome situation whenever he sees one. Even when he isn't on duty, he often leads disruptive drunks out of bars and restaurants, forces them out when he has to, and is always on the receiving end of owners' gratitude.

However, he has no experience dealing with drunks that just got dumped by their boyfriend and chugged away the sorrow with alcohol. You know, like the one dragging their feet as he drags their inebriated body away.

At first, he thought you were hitting on him when he felt your head lean on his shoulder in the bar. It's a common strategy, one that he's dealt with enough times to know when someone is just pretending to be drunk and trying to get his attention. He was still thinking of what to say when tears actually rolled down your cheeks and you started retelling your life story that he never asked to hear about.

Wriothesley isn't actually trying to listen, but he still gets the gist of it. It would be hard not to when you're still prattling on about it beside his ear as we speak.

“He said...” You hiccup, warm liquid seeping into his shirt as you sob into his arm. He hopes that's from your tears and not your snot. “He said he doesn't feel anything for me anymore...”

So you glammed up for tonight and tried to have fun at a bar so you could prove to yourself you didn't need him in the same way he didn't need you. He can already recite the story perfectly from the amount of times you told him. Your plan is irrational at best, and he doesn't see himself doing the same if he were ever to be in the same situation, but he can't berate you for it. Not when you looked so miserable and hopeless to the extent he didn't think it would be safe to leave you alone back at the bar.

“You can't force yourself to be happy,” Wriothesley grumbles, finally giving up on carrying you by the shoulder and instead hoists you up on his back to give you a piggyback ride. Your shoes slip off your feet, so he sighs as he crouches down to pick them up. “At times like this, you should find other ways to feel better.”

Your body jolts against him as you hiccup once again. “Like what?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs, and he can feel you gradually getting used to being carried. It takes only a bit more for you to melt against his body, your chin snugly tucked in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Watch movies at home in your pajamas, I guess. Treat yourself to good food. Go on a trip. You look like the type to enjoy that. Much safer than getting involved with guys when you're still emotionally unavailable.”

You sniffle. “Romance movies only remind me of him. Eating at restaurants will make me remember the dates we've gone to. And going on trips will make me wish he's there with me.”

Why do they have an argument for each point I make? And I never said anything about the movie having to be romance. “Well, you still have to go through that,” he gives up on making you think otherwise. “But one day, you'll feel a little better about it. Maybe you'll want to start dating again when you watch that romance movie, or you'll want someone else to eat with on that restaurant you once went to. And when you're on a trip, maybe you'll even think you want somebody special to go with you.”

You go quiet. For a moment, he thinks you've fallen asleep. But then your head slowly rises from his shoulder, dazed eyes peeking at him unsurely. “You really think so?”

“It won't be easy,” Wriothesley says, because nothing ever is. “But you want to say you don't love him anymore, right?” He glances at you, at the dry tear streaks on your cheeks, at what glitter remains around your eyes from all the times you've rubbed away your tears.

For the first time that night, he sees you smile. “Yeah... I want to say it without feeling hurt anymore.”

He turns away, and he feels himself smiling without meaning to. “That's good.”

“...So do you like watching romance movies? Or eating [hometown] cuisine?”

“...No?”

“Then I'll settle for a movie you like. And I can make good food from anywhere.”

“...Are you hitting on me? Using my advice?”

“Is it working?”

Wriothesley laughs, looking at the person he's carrying on his back, who he is escorting to his apartment because you lost your keys and your roommate won't be back until tomorrow, whom he wrapped his leather jacket around because he felt you shivering against him, and who caught his eye the very moment he entered the bar.

“That's not a no.” He knows you're pouting even when he isn't looking anymore.

“Yeah,” he agrees with you, almost indulgently. “It isn't.”

When you wake up in an unfamiliar bedroom, dressed down to your undergarments and a t-shirt you definitely do not own, and with hardly any recollection of events from the past night, you think you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But then you spot the hangover medicine on the bedside table, your alcohol-spilled clothes drying in the laundry room, and possibly the most gorgeous man you've ever seen cooking breakfast in the kitchen, so whatever you did last night couldn't really be that bad.

“Oh, you're awake,” he says once he notices you standing in the middle of the room, completely awestruck. You don't even know what you should be staring at; his chiseled face, his strong arms, his tight tank top that faintly traces his muscled torso, the gray sweatpants that-

Okay. You are not going to look anywhere below his waist.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, simply glad you didn't fuck up that one syllable. You feel like you're on the verge of either saying something really stupid or making really weird strangled noises. You prefer the former, if you can help it.

“Sit.” He pulls one chair from the dining table, gesturing for you to take it. You meekly take your seat, eyes shifting everywhere but his face. “You're rather quiet today,” he muses, taking one glance at your reddening face as he fixes the plates of pancakes in front and across you.

“...How was I yesterday, then?” You ask, though you don't actually want to hear the answer.

The man hums in thought, taking his sweet time while pouring coffee over two mugs. “Troublesome,” he decides to say. “You nearly puked over my rug, after all.”

You sputter, making all kinds of apologies and promises of compensation when all of a sudden, he laughs. “Nah, I'm kidding. But this means you don't remember anything at all, right?” He sits across from you, sliding the mug to your hand.

“No...” You take a sip, but you barely register how it tastes. “I remember ordering a lot of drinks, but that's pretty much it.”

“That's a shame.” He sighs, leaning back on his chair as he sips coffee. “I suppose that means our dinner plans are void, then.”

“Absolutely not!” The words come out of your lips before your brain-to-mouth filter processes it fully, your hand slamming down the mug on the table in protest. “Uh... that is... if you're available whenever...” You get a hold of yourself and feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He doesn't try to hide the amused smirk on his face. “Sure. I'll be looking forward to your hometown cooking, then.”

Just what on earth did you do last night...?

???

[jeonginsleftcheek]

My favorite person

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, neighbors/(fake) enemies to lovers au

word count: 6.7k

warnings: alcohol, swearing, smoking weed, cheesy flirting, handjob, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), squirting, cumshots, spanking, they're both desperate for each other and completely in love

a/n: had so much fun writing this omg! i love playful hannie sm and i hope y'all enjoy this too, consider a reblog if you did🩷

~check out my: Masterlist

It's almost midnight when Jisung's tired and aching legs slowly carry him towards his house. He has music in his ears and he's whistling lowly in the empty street.

It's still warm, the summer sun is unforgiving during the day, burning every surface up, stealing the freshness of the night.

Jisung can't wait to take all his greasy clothes off (courtesy of working in a fast food restaurant) and hop in the shower to wash the day off.

As he nears his house, he sees you sitting on your porch, wearing an oversized shirt, your hair in a messy bun, your sandals thrown aside and a can of beer in your hand.

He waves and you roll your eyes as you take another sip of your beverage.

"Came to bother me?"- you ask as he lowers his headphones to rest them around his neck.

"Ofcourse, you know that's my favorite hobby."- he smirks, leaning on the railing in front of you.

"You're blocking my view."- you lean to the left, trying to look behind him.

"Of what?"- he turns to look.

"The street."

"There's nothing on the street."- Jisung pouts.

"Still more interesting than you."- you quip.

"Wow, hostile much?"

"You know me."- you shrug with a smirk and he chuckles.

"You got another one of those?"- Jisung points at the beer in your hand.

"For you? No."- you continue smirking.

"Liar."- he smirks back at you. "I know for a fact your fridge is full of that crap."

"You know, it was nice and quiet before you came around."- you sigh.

"Well, I'm here to disrupt your peace."- he says and you groan with a smile as he sits next to you.

"You stink for real."- your face scrunches up as you scoot away from him.

"Mm, the smell of a working man."- Jisung leans towards you, draping his arm on your shoulders and you shake him off with a look of disgust.

"Ew, go shower."- you shove him away and he laughs.

"Alright I was going to anyways. I'll be done in 10."- he gets up before you can answer and you watch his silly little legs walking away from you.

Most of the time you want to smack Jisung, but sometimes he's a nice distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind and the shitty world around you.

You don't wait for him though, throwing the empty beer can in the trash and padding back to your house. You close the door with a thud and sit in your living room, your fan is placed right in front of your face as you exhale.

"Fuck this heat."- you mutter to yourself, the sound of that annoying commercial voice from the TV blending into the background, behind the droning noise of the fan.

You almost fall asleep sitting like that but your door swings open suddenly and it jolts you awake. You don't have to look to know whose footsteps are echoing in your house.

"Finally refreshed."- it's Jisung and he grabs a beer from your fridge and then sits on your couch like it's his house.

His hair is still wet and messy, droplets of water sliding down his neck towards the white Sonic Youth shirt he's wearing.

You don't mean to stare but you do for a moment until the sound of him opening the can of beer snaps you out of your thoughts.

"That's my shirt, you thief!"- you point your finger at him and he laughs annoyingly.

"Doesn't have your name written anywhere on it."- he shrugs and you roll your eyes, smacking his arm.

"Obnoxious."- you mutter but he ignores your little quips as always.

"I'm not stinky anymore."- he smirks at you, his arm around your shoulders again and you whine, moving his arm away.

"All boys are stinky. And why are you drinking beer? I'm not gonna hold back your hair when you start puking, you lightweight."- you shove him playfully and he almost chokes on the sip he's taking.

"I'm not gonna puke, okay? I will be completely fine and sober after this."- he says matter-of-factly as he brings the can up.

"You would've been better off drinking some milk, baby."- you tease him and he chuckles.

"Baby, huh?"- he smirks, his face closer to yours.

"Yes baby, like an infant. A child. Now get out of my personal space."- you press your fingertips into his forehead and push him away.

"Damn, keep being mean to me and you won't get any of this."- Jisung waves a baggy in front of your face.

"Oh, now you're talking."- you smirk and he laughs at you.

"I'm not so stinky anymore, am I?"- he wiggles his eyebrows.

"You're still stinky."- you say, reaching for the baggy but he snatches it away.

"Give it here!"- you yell out and he giggles as he keeps moving the baggy away from you while you try to catch it.

You kneel on the couch, trying to grab it with your flailing hands but he moves his arm away again, making you lose your balance as you basically fall into his lap.

"Hello there."- Jisung smirks, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Ew."- you scramble to get off him, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him.

"Okay, okay, you can roll."- he reaches the baggy towards you and you grab it but he keeps holding onto it.

"Jisung."- you warn.

"Give me a kiss and I'll give you the baggy."

"Quit blackmailing me with kisses. Never gonna happen."- you say as he chuckles, the little bastard.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, here. For real now."- he gives you the baggy and you get to work.

Jisung watches you as you concentrate, your brows slightly furrowed and your tongue poking out between your lips.

He licks his lips unconsciously, thoughts of tasting you have been on his mind ever since he first saw you when he moved next door.

You were a mess back then and sometimes you still are but Jisung loves the mess you are, he loves that you don't try to pretend to be okay when you're not, he loves that you don't take anyone's shit and always fight for yourself, he loves the fact that you're just so unapologetically yourself that you don't mind crying in front of him.

"Earth to stinky. Give me your lighter."- your voice breaks his daydreaming and he rolls his eyes playfully at the nickname before handing you the lighter.

The first two inhales already make you a little floaty, waves of relaxation slowly traveling through your body. Just what you needed after the day you had.

Your music plays in the background, the shared playlist Jisung and you have on spotify. The two of you are sprawled on the couch in front of your fan, the smoke from the blunt swirling in different patterns as Jisung drapes his leg over your lap.

"You wanna do shotgun?"- he asks, looking at you with his eyelids droopy and eyes red and you mirror his expression.

"It's gonna have to be a no."- you say with a snicker.

"Whyyyy?"- he whines, bringing his other leg up to rest it on your lap too.

"Because I know it's another one of your ways to try and kiss me."- you say with a dopey smile, your mind floaty and cloudy as you stare at Jisung's face, a goofy smile on his lips, his puffy cheeks looking extra squishy. You want to bite him.

"You're not getting in my pants."- you add and he laughs at you.

"We'll see about that."- he wiggles his eyebrows and the expression on his face just makes you laugh.

It's dumb but both of you have a fit of laughter and you forget all your worries, and Jisung scoots closer to you, he leans his head on your shoulder and plays with your fingers.

You want to protest and tell him to get his stinky self away from you but the weight of his legs on you and the way he gently touches your hand coupled with the effects of the weed bring you closer to the sleep you so badly crave.

-

"Ouch."- is the first thing that comes out of your mouth the next morning, the sunlight blinding you as soon as you open your eyes.

You feel dehydrated, sweaty and disoriented as you blink slowly, squinting your eyes as you look around. Somehow you ended up in your room, and judging by the snoring and the warm body attached to you, it was probably Jisung's doing.

You groan and try to escape his grasp but he wrapped both his arms and legs around you, clinging onto you like he never wants to let go.

You pinch his arm slightly and he stirs awake.

"What'd you do that for?"- his voice is deep and laced with sleep.

"Don't you have your own house?"- you ask.

"I like yours better."- he mutters, nuzzling into your neck. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he tightens his hold around you, his breath constantly tickling your skin.

"You're a pest."- you chuckle, wiggling away from him but you can't move at all.

"A pest who washes your dishes and brings you food. Hm, maybe you should consider being nice to me."- he lifts his upper body suddenly, staring down at you and you turn in his arms and look up at him.

You hate that your heart skips a beat when you see him first thing in the morning, his hair a mess of curls, eyes laced with sleep, his cute puffy cheeks and pouty lips, the shirt he stole from you messed up from sleeping, sliding down and revealing his skin.

"Get out of my bed."- you groan, wanting to run away far from him so you don't keep having these thoughts.

"That's not what you were saying last night."- he smirks.

"W-what do you mean?"- you stutter.

"Well, last night you were literally falling asleep on the couch and I asked if you want me to carry you to bed. You said yes so I did."- he keeps smirking. "And I was actually about to leave to sleep on your couch but you pulled me down and told me to stay here."

"Ugh. What did you put in that weed?"- your face is scrunched up as you finally free yourself from his hold.

"A love potion."- he narrows his eyes at you.

"I'm gonna go throw up."- you get up and Jisung's laughter echoes behind you as you make your way to the bathroom.

-

Working at the convenience store had you run into all sorts of people but it seemed that today every single annoying and rude person decided to shop.

You were this close to biting someone's head off, fuming as you stomped your feet to the bus station, some angry metal songs screaming into your ears.

The bus was also especially disgusting today, the smell of it making your stomach rise contantly coupled with a creepy old man staring at you the whole time made for a horrible ride home.

You practically ran from the station to your house, barging in as you opened the door. Forgot to lock up again, you think and shrug.

You almost trip over someone's legs and you're about to scream but the owner of the legs beats you to it.

"Jisung!"- you yell out, grabbing at your chest as he looks up at you, blinking innocently as he lays next to your couch on his stomach.

"You scared me so bad!"- he says and you shove his leg with your foot. The audacity.

"I scared you? You're in my house."- you put your hands on your hips, your eyebrows raising.

"You left it unlocked like always."- he says, his hands roaming under your couch.

"What the hell are you even doing?"- you ask confusedly.

"I'm looking for my lighter from last night! It's my favorite and I couldn't find it anywhere this morning so it has to be here somewhere."- he explains as he continues looking.

"We'll find it, no need to cry."- you chuckle, teasing him.

"I'm not crying. Yet."- he jokes and you laugh as he stands up, brushing off his pants.

"Oh, you look like shit."- he says as he finally looks at you closely.

"Wow, thanks."- you smack his arm and he squeals dramatically, grabbing at it.

"Sorry, I meant you look like you've had a bad day."- he says.

"I'm still having it."

"Not even my cute face makes it better?"- he pouts at you, batting his eyelashes.

"That makes it even worse."- you say, making a disgusted face. "Go to work Jisung and stop bothering me, I need to have the afternoon to myself."- you add, whining.

"So that means I'll come back after my shift."- he smirks.

"Only if you shower first."- you joke and he chuckles.

"Ofcourse. Now come here and let me give you a hug, you need one."- Jisung opens his arms.

"I really don't."- you shake your head at him.

"Yes, you really do."

"If you hug me I'll smack you!"

"Is that a promise?"- he smirks and you give in with a groan and let him wrap his arms around you.

You can truly never win, you always end up giving into his hugs and cuddles, knowing somewhere in the back of your mind that you crave to be close to him.

-

You had the whole afternoon planned out, cleaning up, doing some self care, taking a nap and then cooking dinner.

You ended up feeling sad and deflated, so you just stood under the shower, hoping that the water will somehow wash out the shitty day you had.

Fatigue got the better of you and you ended up falling asleep on your couch.

You stir awake, hearing the rustling of plastic bags and then a thud followed by Jisung cursing under his breath.

You lift your head up, squinting at him as he slowly walks towards you.

"Oh hey, did I wake you up?"- he asks gently.

"Yeah, kinda."- you say, feeling dizzy from the heat as you slowly sit up, wondering what day it is.

"I'm sorry."- he says as he puts the bags down.

"I hope this makes up for it. I brought you your favorite from work and I put extra love in it."- he smiles cutely and you really want to smack him in that moment, but in a good way.

"I'll think about forgiving you."- you tease and he chuckles.

"I'm gonna go shower and then I'll come hang with you."- he says.

"You mean annoy me?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."- he smirks.

You open up the bags and dig in immediately, your stomach growling at the sight of food.

Jisung comes back some 15 minutes later, practically skipping to you and throwing himself on the couch next to you, making you bounce a little.

"I left you some fries."- you say as you sip on your Coke.

"No, no, eat it all. I already ate at work."- he quickly shakes his head.

"Okay, don't need to tell me twice."- you start eating again and Jisung smiles at you adoringly.

"You won't believe the day I had."- he says when he snaps out of his trance.

"Tell me about it, I was this close to murdering someone."- you grumble.

"This woman came in and she returned her order 3 times, telling us it's not what she ordered when we clearly heard her say the order. Like we're some kind of five star restaurant not a freaking burger joint."

"Did she ask to talk to the manager?"- you snicker as you finish eating and lean back.

"Ofcourse she did, fucking Karen."- Jisung rolls his eyes and you laugh.

"The amount of those I had in the shop today. Not people making a fuss over yoghurt and milk, like I can't deal with them anymore. They wanna make petty drama where there is none. I wish I could just take a vacation away from everything."- you sigh and Jisung scoots closer to you, turning his body towards yours.

"Me too. I need a break."- he says and you turn to look at him, your heart skipping a beat when you realize how close his face is to yours.

"Let's run away."- he says suddenly and you laugh.

"We don't have any money to do that."- you say as you both lean on the headrest of your couch.

"We'll find a way. We can... juggle! Or sing on the street! Or you can read tarot cards!"- he flails his arms and you laugh, your giggles making Jisung's stomach swarm with butterflies.

"Keep pulling suggestions out of your ass."- you shake your head and he chuckles. "It's entertaining."

"But I'm for real. I would run away with you any time you asked. Like I'd pack my bags right now if you just said the word."- he says, his hand somehow finding yours.

"Where would we go?"- you ask, your fingers slotting between his.

"Anywhere we want. We would never stay in one place, we'd always look for new adventures. It would be me and you against the world."- he smiles, his boba eyes shiny as he looks at you.

"That sounds so nice."- your eyes fall to his lips. He's so close and it's so tempting but something inside you never lets you close that gap, mentally or physically.

Jisung's cheeks heat up as he catches you staring at his lips.

"But, it's just a fantasy."- you move away suddenly. "Real life is not like that. Real life is rude customers, exploitative bosses, barely making ends meet and this stupid heat that's making me feel even more disgusting."

"Way to bring the mood down."- Jisung snickers, squeezing your hand.

"You know me, y/n the party pooper."- you chuckle and he laughs.

"Oh but the party didn't even start yet!"- Jisung smirks and grabs the remote, turning the channels until he finds the commercial one, you always watch it together after midnight if you can't sleep, laughing at stupid stuff people sell.

"Oh my god!"- you chuckle. "This requires beer."

You go to get up but Jisung stops you.

"Let me."

"Damn, is Han Jisung actually a gentleman?"- you tease, wiggling your eyebrows.

"I'll have you know that I'm a perfect gentleman."

"Mhm, right. I'll see about that."- you say as he brings two cans of beer.

"Yes you will."- he smirks, sitting down next to you.

Someone is selling a gilded statue of a peacock, complete with different colored jewels all over it.

"So kitschy. Like who'd want that staring at them at their house? My eyes would hurt."- you say with disgust on your face.

"It would be funny to get it though."- Jisung says and you laugh.

"They still didn't reveal the price. How much do you think it costs?"- you ask as the woman on the tv describes the kitschy statue and the materials it's made of.

"Why don't you take a guess? If you guess right, I'll do anything you ask of me and if you're way off you have to kiss me."- Jisung smirks and you smack his thigh.

"Again with the kissing! Fine! Let's do it. I guess 200 dollars."- you say annoyed and he laughs at you as he rubs his thigh.

"Alright, I guess 300 dollars."- he says.

You wait for the reveal in anticipation, and when the woman says 350 dollars, you freeze.

"Guess I owe you a kiss."- you sigh and turn towards Jisung.

He lookes completely and utterly bamboozled, his lips falling open as he stares at you, not blinking.

"Jisung?"- you wave a hand in front of his face.

"Right."- Jisung laughs, thinking you're joking around so he puckers his lips towards you, exaggerating for the effect, his eyes closed.

"Ji, please be normal about this."- you warn him, your hand on his and his eyes snap open.

"W-we're actually gonna kiss?! You're actually gonna kiss me?!"- he freaks out suddenly, his eyes widdened.

"A bet is a bet."- you shrug with a smirk, but on the inside you're freaking out the same way Jisung is.

"I'll take it."- he nods quickly.

"Why don't you start breathing first?"- you laugh, scooting closer to him so your knees are touching.

"Right, breathing, that's like important."- he says and takes a deep breath in as you giggle at him.

It's almost 2am and you decide to throw everything out the window as you lean in closer to Jisung's face. You can hear his breath hitch as you gently brush your lips on his.

Without any more stalling, you finally close the gap and press your lips into his. Your mind feels dizzy instantly, his lips are so soft and pliant against yours as he kisses you back eagerly.

You can feel the relief in his movements, like he was waiting for this for so long, and frankly so were you.

His hand ends up on your waist and you cup his face, some kind of hunger brewing inside you as you deepen the kiss, your tongue prying his lips open, making him moan.

His arms wrap around you as your tongues fight for dominance, making the kiss needy and messy, your teeth clashing and spit dribbling down your chin.

When you part for air both of you look dazed and Jisung squirms uncomfortably as he looks down. Your eyes follow his gaze and you chuckle at the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.

"Really, Ji? One kiss is all it takes to have you this turned on?"- you grab his thigh and he jolts, gasping as he looks up at you.

"Don't make fun of me! It's your fault anyways."

"Oh it is, hm?"- you smirk, massaging his inner thigh, making his hips lift up for some kind of friction.

"Yeah, so help me get rid of it?"- he blinks at you with those puppy eyes of his, a cute pout on his lips for added effect.

The little manipulator.

"You're a horny little boy, Ji."- you chuckle, hooking your fingers in his pants and he gasps.

"Woah, you're going straight for it?!"- he panicks.

"What, do you want me to introduce myself to it first? State my name and business?"- you snicker and he laughs, smacking your arm.

"You make me feel so self-conscious just so you know."- Jisung groans as his head falls back and he covers his eyes with his arm.

"Aw, baby is shy."- you coo and pull his pants down in one swift move.

Jisung whines as his cock smacks against his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.

"Damn, didn't know you were packing this much."- you say, your hand instantly wrapping around his throbbing member, the pre-cum already lubing your hand up as it dribbles down.

"Ahh, don't say shit like that. I'm gonna cum."- he whimpers and you laugh as you squeeze his cock, making his hips jolt upwards into your hand.

"Already? I didn't even do anything."- you smirk, running your thumb through his slit, playing with the pre-cum oozing out of it.

"Yes you did. You're... you."- he says.

"What does that mean?"- you chuckle, playing with the sensitive underside of his head, making his cock twitch in your hold.

"Means anything you do gets me hot."- he whines.

"Oh yeah? Is that why you can't look at me, Ji?"- you tease, grabbing his arm and trying to pry it off of his face.

He just whines and doesn't budge.

"Look at me, Jisung."- you say sternly, squeezing his cock again.

"Ah, fuck!"- he whines and finally looks at you.

His face is red in arousal and embarassment and you chuckle at the state of him.

"Keep your eyes on me."- you order, moving your hand up and down.

"Oh my god, y/n."- he whimpers, instantly looking down at your hand pleasuring him.

"Eyes on me, baby."- you warn again and he looks at you quickly.

You manage to slide your tank top down and Jisung's eyes are as wide as saucers.

"I see you always staring at my breasts."- you smirk, your free hand coming up to play with your nipple. "Would you like to touch them?"

"Y-yes, yes I would!"- he whimpers as you speed up your movement on his painfully hard cock, the squelching sounds going straight to your core.

"Say please."- you smirk, leaning closer to him.

"Please! Please!"- he looks desperate as you tease him, your breasts almost on his face.

"Okay, you can touch."- you say and his hands are instantly squeezing your flesh, thumbs running over your nipples.

He looks fixated so you change up the rhythm of your hand, cupping his balls with your other hand.

"S-shit!"- Jisung moans loudly as his cock twitches hard in your hand, and he cums, ropes of white cum painting your hand and his thighs.

Both of you gasp and he whines, his hands coming up to cover his face.

"Well, that was quick."- you chuckle.

"Oh my god, that's so embarassing. Please don't laugh at me."- he mumbles behind his hands as you wipe yours clean.

"Hey, don't be embarassed."- you quickly grab his hands, moving them away from his face. "I think that was so fucking hot."

"R-really?"- he pouts.

"Well, yeah. Shows me how much you want me."- you say, your eyes full of lust.

"I do, I want you so bad. I-I can go for more rounds if you're down."- he says almost timidly and you really want to eat him up.

"Ofcourse. I hate unfinished business."- you waste no time as you take off your pants and Jisung is quick to take his shirt off.

"Stay like that. I wanna ride your pretty cock."- you narrow your eyes at him and he whimpers.

"God, please do!"- he says, his voice strained as you grab his sensitive cock.

You throw your leg over him and hover above him as you start jerking him off again.

"Touch me."- you grab his wrist and pull his hand towards your pussy, dripping with arousal and begging to be filled up.

He runs his fingers on your wet folds, rubbing your pussy and you let out a needy moan as you grind against his fingers.

"Look who else is desperate."- Jisung smirks, feeling his chest swell with pride that he's the one making you feel like this.

"Shut up and put them in."- you groan, landing a light slap on his cock and he moans loudly, pushing his fingers inside your wetness as he squirms under your touch.

"D-don't make me cum yet."- he whimpers as you keep a steady pace on his cock while he starts fucking his fingers in and out of you, matching the speed of your hand.

"Ah, Jisung!"- you whine when he hits the spot inside you, making your legs shake.

The way you moaned his name got him twitching in your hand again. He speeds up and you grab his hand suddenly, stopping him.

"I don't want to fuck around anymore. I'm gonna fuck you now."- you smirk and he gulps, pulling his fingers out of your pussy and you aim his dick towards your entrance, sliding the wet head against your warmness.

Jisung plops his fingers in his mouth sucking on them and tasting your juices and you whine at the sight, sinking on his cock at the same time.

Jisung's head falls back as he pulls his fingers out with a pop, letting out a strained moan at the feeling of your velvety walls sliding down on his hard cock.

He grips your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck and start bouncing on him fast immediately, your thighs smacking down on his, your titties bouncing in his face.

Jisung starts whining desperately, he can't wrap his head around the fact that you're fucking on him so desperately, your nails digging into his back.

"Fuck me harder!"- he whines, pushing his hips up and you whimper as you fuck on him as fast and hard as you can. He follows your pace and meets your movements with his thrusts, pushing his cock so deep inside you that the tip presses into your cervix, making you see stars.

"Ah, Ji, you feel so good!"- you moan as you grip his shoulders, the couch creaking under the two of you fucking like some kind of feral animals.

"Mm you feel so good too. So tight around me."

Jisung digs his heels into your carpet and fucks you even harder, his hand landing a smack on your ass.

"Ow!"- you whimper and Jisung apologizes immediately, caressing your ass but he felt the way your pussy clenched around him when he spanked you.

"No, it's okay. Do it again."- you groan, barely catching a breath, your thighs are burning from all the exertion but the way his cock feels inside you beats the need to give your legs a rest.

Jisung's eyes are glazed over as he smacks you hard again, your hand tangles in his hair as you moan his name loudly. He leans in and captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking on it as he grips your ass, plummeting into your clenching hole.

You feel crazy as your orgasm hits you harder than ever before and you lift off of his dick just to squirt all over him.

"Jisung!"- you whimper and then look down realizing he's cumming too, just from the sight of you squirting and you grab his cock and help him get to his high.

"Ahh, y/n..."- he keeps moaning your name as you milk him dry, sweat covering both of your bodies, the fan behind you helping you cool down as goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Fuck that was so hot."- Jisung groans as the two of you cling to each other, not caring about the stickiness.

"Mhm."- you try to breathe as you lean your forehead on his shoulder.

"Can't believe I made you squirt."- he smirks and you lift up to look at him.

"Are you hard again?"- you chuckle in disbelief as you feel him grow beneath you.

"I told you I could go for more rounds."- he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Fine, let's go upstairs."- you stand up, wobbling on your feet a little and he helps you get steady.

"Really?"- he looks up at you cutely.

"Well, I'm not sleeping tonight."- you chuckle and he giggles as he lets you pull him up.

As soon as you get to your room, both of you fall into your bed and between the mess of sheets Jisung and you spend the night indulging in each other.

"I feel disgusting."- you whine 3 more rounds later as the two of you lay on your back and try to catch some breaths.

"Hey!"- he whines, smacking your thigh lightly and you laugh.

"Not like that. I mean the heat is disgusting. This really didn't help with that."- you look at him and he chuckles.

"I'd say it was worth it."- he smiles, his eyes hopeful and sparkly.

"I agree."- you nod and Jisung lifts up to give you a gentle kiss, contrast to the hungry and passionate kisses the two of you spent the night sharing.

It's almost 6am when the two of you are done cleaning up and changing the sheets.

"Are you gonna throw me out now?"- Jisung jokes as you lay down and he sits on your bed.

"Like that would work on you."- you chuckle and he laughs as he lays down.

"You know, my shift starts in two hours."- he says as he holds your hand.

"What?!"- you gasp and flick his forehead as he whines. "Why didn't you tell me you had the morning shift, you fool?"

"Well, I didn't want to lose what might've been my only chance."- he says quietly and you lean in and bite into his bicep making him yelp.

"What's that for?"- Jisung whimpers, grabbing at his arm.

"Nothing, you're just dumb and adorable. Now go to sleep."

-

You wake up around 11, the spot beside you empty and everything floods back into your mind, you can't believe you did all that sober.

A part of you feels embarassed but you know it was bound to happen sooner or later. Deep inside, you know you cared about Jisung a lot and you hoped he felt the same.

Losing him is unimaginable and even though he annoys you, you know you enjoy him 'bothering' you every day more than you would like to admit.

You're off work today so you finally gather the strength to clean up your whole house, and when you move your couch to vacuum, you see a little shiny lighter behind it.

You chuckle as you pick it up, it's Jisung's favorite lighter, one you covered with shiny stickers and heart doodles when both of you were high. You sigh and put it aside, wondering how Jisung will act today with you after everything that happened between the two of you last night.

You take a shower and a nap, and before long it's 5pm and your door swings open.

You're in the kitchen, finishing up on dinner as Jisung strolls in with a big smile on his face.

"Hey."- you say and he laughs as he pulls you into his arms.

"I missed you all day."- he says into your hair as he holds you tight and you wrap your arms around his dainty waist.

"Oh yeah?"- you smirk.

"Mhm."- he nuzzles into you. "I know you missed me too, admit it."- he adds and you chuckle as you both lean back to look at each other.

"Yeah, sure."- you tease him.

"I was gonna text you but um... my phone fell into the hot oil in our fryer."

"Oh my god Jisung! Stuff like that only happens to you."- you laugh and he shakes his head.

"Don't mock my troubles. I have to buy a new phone now."- he pouts.

"Why were you even looking at your phone near the hot oil?"- you chuckle, turning off the stove.

"I was... looking at your pics."- he says, his puffy cheeks rosy as he looks away.

"Ofcourse you were, you stalker."- you smack his arm. "Don't act all shy now, we're way pass that."- you add and he groans.

"You ruin every cute moment on purpose."- he pouts.

"And you bother me 24/7 but you don't hear me complain."- you tease.

"You complain all the time."- he snickers and you laugh.

"You don't mind, do you?"- you ask, hating that you feel vunerable in that moment but it's Jisung, your Jisung.

"Ofcourse I don't."- he says gently, sensing the shift in the tone and he leans closer to you, cupping your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I think we're way pass that too."- both of you chuckle as your lips collide in a sweet, gentle kiss.

It doesn't take much time for the kiss to get heated, and for Jisung to push you against the kitchen elements.

"Woah, calm down big boy. Dinner first."- you smirk and he laughs.

"Alright, but just because you cooked. You even cleaned up, what gives? I made you so happy last night that you were on cloud 9 today?"- he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.

"What if I was?"- you tease back, pinching his cheek and he whines, grabbing at it dramatically.

"I was too. That's why I put my phone into the fryer instead of the fries."- he confesses and you laugh loudly, grabbing at your stomach.

"Go ahead, laugh at my misery."- Jisung says, but he's smiling too.

"Sorry, that's just such a Jisung thing to do. Like somehow your lighter ending up behind the couch."- you add, pulling the lighter out of your pocket and showing it to him.

"Oh, you found it! I knew it was somewhere around here."- he smiles as he takes it from your open palm and you can't help but wonder why he loves it so much.

"Why is it your favorite?"- you ask and he looks up at you, his eyes wide before they soften.

"Remember when I got it? Both of us had a bad day and it was raining like hell. I came to you with a baggy and you rolled a perfect joint like you always do. But, we couldn't find a lighter that was working so we had to run to the gas station in the rain like two idiots. And when we came back you let me shower here and you gave me your Sonic Youth shirt, which I know is your favorite so that was a great honor to me. To get to wear your favorite shirt that smells like you. And then you decorated the lighter when we finished smoking and you gave it to me and threatened that if I ever lost it you would kick me."- he laughs and you chuckle, your face burning and heart beating fast at the way he talked about you and that evening.

Ofcourse you remember, you remember every night with him.

"That was such a y/n thing to do."- he adds and you laugh as he grabs your hand.

"I guess it was."- you squeeze his hand lightly as you stare at each other.

"I told you I'd get in your pants."- he smirks suddenly and you roll your eyes, groaning at him.

"Ruining the moment. And it wasn't me this time."- you point at him and he laughs.

"Okay, how about this for the moment?"- he swallows and leans in closer.

"I love you, y/n. And I'm in love with you. Like so desperately. I can't stop thinking about you 24/7 and my favorite parts of the day are the parts I share with you. I know I bother you a lot and cling to you but I don't know how to stop. You're my favorite person ever. You're my person."- Jisung says and you almost melt down into a puddle.

"Don't stop bothering me ever, Ji. Because I... I love you too. And you're my favorite person in the whole world too."- you confess finally, feeling like a burden was lifted off of your heart.

"Good, because you can't get rid of me that easily."- he smirks, his lips on yours.

"Mhm."- you mutter against him, wanting to throw a witty comment back at him but he kisses you with so much emotion that any word lingering on your lips dies and you kiss back, grabbing at his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

"Hope you know I'll be spending even more time at your house now."- he smirks when you pull away.

"Ugh, I might start locking my door finally."- you joke and Jisung snorts.

"You'd forget to do it after one time."

"But you'll be there to remind me?"

"Ofcourse."

And he stays with you as he promised, selling his house a few months later and moving in with you even though it seemed like he was living there already.

More than half of his stuff was already in your house so the move in was easy. He remembered the night you talked about needing a break from everything and as soon as fall brought colder weather and less customers, the two of you planned a little trip.

You always heard that it can't get more better than having that one in a million chance to love and be loved by your favorite person in the whole world.

And you have that, you think as you smile at Jisung's silly cute face, and he looks at you mirroring your smile, making you feel like you're home with him, no matter where you are.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

[hwajin]

☆.° — breathe me | hhj

genre: smut

pairing: nerd!hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

warnings/ content: ice play, lots of fingering

this is my fic for @whatudowhennooneseesyou's kinktober 2024; ice play with hyunjin! also an unofficial part 2 for my nerd hyune fic 'study me' hehe <3 hope you enjoy, check out the other works too!! (pst @hyunverse)

It's been a while — three months, give or take — since you and Hyunjin had started going out; officially, and openly. You remember the looks on peoples' faces, slightly irritated, perplexed, when you and him would enter the classroom, hand in hand, sitting down next to each other and giggling shyly about something only you two understood. The group project three months back — which you were grateful for every passing day for bringing you closer to him — had been long over; so why were you hanging out with the loner, the unnamed loser, the nerd sitting in the first row by himself every day anew? You had found a certain satisfaction in those looks; something about them had made you proud, made you feel lucky. As though you’d understood something no one else had.

By now, people were used to the pair of you; seeing you together in the campus cafeteria, accompanied by some of your friends and a heavy blush on Hyunjin's cheeks wasn't as bizarre anymore; hearing your quiet chatter echoing from the first row was normal, almost — except it didn't occur all too often, and far too seldom for your liking. Yes, Hyunjin became your boyfriend over the course of a couple weeks, and while your studies and academic affections suffered beneath that, his didn't a bit; surprisingly.

"How are you acing every class!?", you attack him one evening. He had scored 99 out of a hundred possible points on a Statistics test — your one and only mutual class —; you had barely gotten a 49.

"Don't tell me you're actually getting anything done when we study together?"

You had sat in the library, and your too loud voice had flustered him, so he had responded even quiter than usual; and not without a hint of judgement:

"Of course I am." Brows furrowed, genuine question in the way he'd looked at you. Then, after a moment, he had cocked his head, in near fearful realization; mouth agape, eyes big behind his nerdy glasses. "Wait... you wanna tell me you're... not actually studying on- on our study dates?" The last words had sounded from his mouth shyly, almost bashful. You had chuckled internally at that, though had given him a sultry look; playful, a wink accompanying your gesture.

"No, I'm way too distracted by how good you look studying that I can't get anything done myself."

Another thing that hasn't changed over the last three months — Hyunjin has seemingly not gotten used to your flirtations. To any flirtations, any intimacy at all. Every time you touched him, as innocent a touch as it was, every time you gave his lips as little as a peck he froze, utterly clueless in his own body, scarlet in the face and down the neck. It was adorable. A part of you hoped he never would get used to it; that he would always stay the bashful, quirky man you got to know him as. That he would always drown in red when you shot him a playful look, fire behind your eyes and igniting Hyunjin, fixing his glasses with a quick motion, clearing his throat and diverting his eyes, only to notice you're still staring when he looks for you again. You liked initiating things, liked the way he still shied from as much as kissing you, reaching out to hold your hand. That when he did — reach out, touch the back of your hand with his own, slowly entangling your fingers and acting unknowing all the while — it wasn't without fluster, wasn't without you giggling about him because his crimson neck and his blown pupils were so ironic, considering you'd been entangled in bed together two hours ago, naked and pressed against each other.

Another thing, undeniably, you had loved about the past months; the sex. Sounding perverted upon admission, though you had to; because it'd been better than you had anticipated. Hyunjin was shy, and he'd only been learning to voice his own wishes and desires fairly recently; but he was eager. Eager to please you, eager to do anything you asked him to, to learn. And he was more open than you thought, too, more experimental; there was barely a thing he denied, even if never without shyness, but always saying yes with a face red as crimson.

And he'd said yes this time as well.

You were sprawled out on the bed, in the nude, limbs shivering and skin pearly, covered in a million tiny bumps. It was strange, the contrast to the heat Hyunjin emitted; fires ignited beneath your skin but you were cold, so cold to the touch against the warm air of the room. Yet, you were glowing. You were burning and freezing to death at the very same time.

Hyunjin was holding the little, melted down ice cube he's prepared the day prior against your skin. You had brewed an ice coffee for the pair of you, as innocent a date as ever, Hyunjin talking your ears off with a new computer he's acquired, and how setting it up was — apparently — the most fun he's had in a while. You liked listening to him, could never grow tired of his hobbies you learned to love so dearly, viewed as so adorably quirky; but you also couldn't have suppressed the suggestive remark you'd made:

"Oh... really?", puppy eyes while you’d turned to face him slowly, and he had sat by the kitchen counter perplexed, nodding and going on with his demonstration of his new set up. You had stepped closer to him, ice cube mold in hands. "Even more fun than... we had yesterday?" You had eye-fucked him by now, eyes big and dear-like, blinking and playing with a lose strand of his hair; it had gotten so long over the past months, and you could never keep your hands from it.

Hyunjin had gulped, visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing as he did, and a feeling of heat had lain as a blanket in your lower tummy. You had seen the memories of last night flash before his eye in a second, and a familiar blush had lain over his pearly skin. He hadn't, and the faint outline of his developing erection had been proof.

"I can remind you, in case you did."

A futile promise; not only because he hadn't forgotten, but because you would remind him nevertheless.

Hyunjin's eyes had hushed to the ice cubes beside your hands on the counter, and upon the deepening of his blush your eyes had started glistening. That was the thing about your boyfriend; he knew what he wanted. He knew exactly, only too shy to admit to it, too ashamed to speak the words out loud. He had never said no to a proposal you've made, because he'd wanted it as bad as you did — more so, maybe. You'd smirked, following his eyed and then locking them again.

"You wanna try these...", you had barely whispered, "...on me?" Head cocked and eyes questioning. Hyunjin had gulped again; then he had nodded.

Fast forward half an hour, you were shivering against the cold of the ice cube. Hyunjin was clumsy with it, utterly helpless; he didn't quite know what to do with the little bit of frozen water, where to touch you with it, what to do. After the third one has melted without much an outcome, Hyunjin looking both distressed and apologetic, you finally took matters into your own hands with a giggle.

"Fuck, I'm sorry; I have no idea what I'm doing." Hyunjin sounded frustrated, and you entangled your fingers in his locks, messy and raven around his face. His glasses were sliding down continuously, and he had grown tired of fixing them; they were forgotten, sitting almost at the tip of his nose. You slid them up, looking down at him where he was positioned between your bare legs, and he grew bashful; he always did when you fixed his glasses for him. He held you, big hands on your waist, so casual but your skin burned beneath every touch.

"Calm down, babe.", you smiled at him, and his brows furrowed closer together.

"Should I... help you? Tell you what to do?"

He had laughed then, thankful relief, had nodded and had kissed your lower tummy; you loved when he wasn't shy to show banal affection, when his lips and hands felt a home on your body.

"Take an ice cube in your mouth.", you commanded, voice silk and honey. Hyunjin blinked up at you twice; then he obliged, momentarily. Almost with no hesitation; he was slave to every of your word, your wish his very own. He trusted you to take the lead, and his plump, scarlet lips wrapped around the frozen bit of water, securing it further with his teeth; and he shivered at the coldness of it. You hissed in a breath at that; you needed to remember using the ice on him, at some point; he would look heavenly flustered and red and shivering.

Hyunjin looked at you, expectedly, waiting for your next word. He wouldn't do anything but.

Your fingers played with his hair, and you watched his glasses slide down his nose. He scrunched it, likely unaware of the little movement; but your breath hitched, and you bit your lip.

"Kiss my body with it."

He did. He lowered his head to be level with your bare stomach, eyes never leaving your own. He watched you intently, if waiting for the next command or simply not wanting to miss every breathy sigh you let out, every shaky moan you weren't sure.

The ice touched your hot, burning skin. You were surprised it didn't melt right away; Hyunjin's breath was even hotter than you, and the contrast of it — his warm huffs of air and the freezing cube — sent a electrifying shiver down your spine and right to your core, tickling there until you squirmed to ease the feeling off. Hyunjin's eyes held surprise; then he started making out with your body as if it was your lips he was kissing, and as if the ice had disappeared. He played with it, clumsy and more passion than plan, and you could tell he liked the filth, the lack of sense. He gave the flesh of your hips open mouthed kisses, hot and wet and cold, he let the cube of ice disappear in his mouth to bite down on your skin before his tongue fiddled with the shrinking block again to let it drop on you, unexpectedly, cold and whine-inducing. He groaned too when you let the sound rip through your throat, enjoying the way you enjoyed it.

The ice cube melted eventually. Hyunjin kissed your body some more without it, losing himself, lips and hands unable to let go of you. He did so until you whined out when he wrapped his lips around one of your breasts, hot spit coating your nipple, his cold, delicate fingers playing with the other one. He looked up at you then, knowing and questioning all the same, and you whispered a single word, enough to make him hurry putting the second ice cube between his teeth.

"More."

You shook your head, though, when Hyunjin was about to come back to his previous ministrations. You held his arm; you had gotten so sensitive so suddenly, feeling like slipping away if you didn't grab onto something.

"Let it drop here.", you said, pointing to the core of your chest. He did as you commanded, and searching for your next wish in the depths of your eyes.

"Move it down my body."

He did, straight down, aiming for your belly button, and you shook your head again.

"No, no, slowly. Here first.", you whispered, wetting your fingers in the cold trail of water the cube left, and circling one of your nipples with it. Hyunjin blushed upon that, suddenly. Torn out of the haze from before he as though found his way back to reality, always bashful when you played with yourself in front of him. He watched you close your eyes at the pleasure you brought yourself, the way you hummed out quietly before looking at him again. And he obliged; he let the small cube travel over both your breasts, long and slow, until the ice had almost fully dissipated when he reached your belly button.

"Another one.", you hushed, and he understood. He let an ice cube drop just over your belly button, where he had stopped prior, and continued his journey further down; he kissed your body to elicit sounds of pleasure from you, breathy and hushed and needy whenever his hot tongue danced across trails of cold water, when it circled a nipple; when the melting cube of ice touched your core, finally. Your back arched into him; and after an approval look and a nod of yours Hyunjin fiddled — clumsily — to lay the cold against your clit. It wasn't sudden and yet you jumped, yelped in your place, grabbed onto Hyunjin, digging your nails into the bare skin of his arms. He hissed at that; he hadn't yet admitted to it, but he enjoyed the faint sting of pain, you were sure.

He kept fingering you slowly with the remnants of the ice cube. It wasn't much by any means, almost melted entirely, your wet heat enough to make it, but the sensation remained. You were sensitive, worked up, and Hyunjin above your body so obedient, watching your every move to accord his ministrations to them, that you felt your high sneak up on you, quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost there, almost palpable; but it needed more.

And he felt it. He had eased into it, into the night and into you, and he became more courageous — he grabbed for another ice cube without you telling him to, placed it on your pelvic bone to warm it up, just a little. He kissed you then; impulsively, passionately, moving the cube against your body, cold thumb of his circling your clit. Slowly, not necessarily with a goal, just because; slow circles, barely doing anything, but you still jerked in your place, against him and then into the mattress. And you kissed him back, grabbed the back of his nape, the very ends of his hair, tousled and messy and warm against the cold; and he inserted the freezed water with two of his fingers, into your hot wetness, making it cold and wetter, so suddenly sensitive that you groaned out deeply into his mouth. He ate up the sound, returned it with the same fervour, curled the ice cube up and removed it again, leaving you empty and shivering, aching for more. For again. You whispered the word against Hyunjin's bruised lips, deep red and bitten, and he obeyed; he inserted two fingers and the ice cube into you, curling his digits and pushing the cold deeper. Everything around you turned white, and silent. You saw nothing but him, heard nothing but Hyunjin's staggered, deep breaths, felt nothing but bliss, purified in the way he granted it to you; unapologetic, readily, as if was everything he was born for.

You squirmed against his body, steady and warm above your own. You could feel his erection against your leg, could feel he was moving and squirming too, to remove friction, though it wasn't his primary goal. He moved thoughtlessly, out of an instinct; his focus, though, lay on you. He didn't dare remove his eyes from you, repeatedly fixing his glasses to not miss a second of the changing expressions on your face, or your shivering body, your pearl-covered skin, the way your flesh broke waves with every move you made, with every hard breath you inhaled, exhaled. And he went deeper, bit your neck harder, held your hips closer, kissed you faster; and you groaned louder, squirmed heavier, until finally you shook, body convulsing and waves of electricity running through your body, wetness gushing down Hyunjin's fingers and staining the mattress. Your chest heaved, your warmth having melted down the ice cube to mere cold water, and Hyunjin watched in awe; he hadn't yet grown used to the sight of you coming, especially for him. The way he could see your soul leaving your body and returning again, the way your eyes crossed before rolling into the back of your head, how you held onto him, how your toes curled and the hairs on your body stiffened; he would never get enough of it. He could watch it - watch you - over and over again, shaking and coming against him, your hot breath igniting fires on his skin.

"Fuck.", you breathed out, tearing Hyunjin out of his thoughts. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and only then Hyunjin noticed he hadn't yet stopped fingering you, slowly, helping you ride out your orgasm though overstimulating now, surely. He leaned down, kissed your neck, slowly removed his fingers, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. He did then something which could only be accounted to his incredible neediness; nothing unfamiliar whenever he waited his turn, whenever he prioritised your satisfaction over his own. He sat back on his heels, looked down on your shivering, sweaty body; and he licked his slick fingers clean of you, eyes locked with yours intently. His tongue swirled around his digits, slurping noises filling the room. His ears turned red and the blush crept down his neck, upon the filthy action, and upon your sweetness against his tongue, but he didn't stop; Hyunjin put on a show for you, and he loved to see the effort pay off - your eyes deepened with a sense of desire, dark and seductive and alluring, and a smirk played around your lips; Hyunjin knew you loved when he wasn't shy to show his lust. Only when you grabbed him by his collar, only when you tugged at the hem of his shirt and your legs wrapped around his torso, toes playing with the waistband of his pants he knew the night wasn't over; and wouldn't be for long.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @astraystayyh