#i put too much thought into this but this is how it would go

[luvyeni]

WHAT’S IS YOUR DESIRE ๑. ( 이희승 )

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ─── you’re so lonely , your parents pretend you don’t exist , no friends , you’re so desperate for love … heeseung can give you that if that’s what you truly desire…

( 対 ) lee heeseung + fem. reader wc. 4k genre smut · contains! vampire!heeseung , mentions of loneliness , oral ( f ) , biting , blood drinking , unprotected sex , mentions of murder mature content. / back to library

you were used to being alone; living in a small town , your parents often left for long periods of time to look for work in other churches; your dad was a pastor and your mother a housewife — not that it mattered , when they were here they hardly paid attention to you , and when they did it was often to comment on something you did wrong or to drill quotes from the bible into your head.

when your mother came into your room that afternoon you already knew what was coming. “your father has work in the town over.” you nodded. “i assume you’ll be going with him?” barely looking up from the computer that sat on your desk — your parents hated it , claimed ‘it was the work of the devil’ but they allowed it because it was needed for your studies in university. “of course you know your father has such a wandering eye, i have to keep and eye on the jezabels trying to seduce him.” you wanted to scoff , knowing that it was surely the other way around and your mom was too delusional to notice , but you didn’t do anything, you just nodded. “there’s food to last three days when we will be back , the robert’s are right down the road if you need anything.”

her hands were on your shoulders. “make sure to read your bible before bed , to keep the demons out while you sleep.” she said , you sighed. “i know mama.” she just nodded before exiting quietly. you closed the laptop , not like you could do much on it — your parents only allowed the wifi because of your studies , they turned it off when you were done with school , claiming you didn’t need it , they didn’t want the internet to “corrupt” you.

you stared out the window as you watched them get in their car , driving down the road — leaving you even more alone.

there was nothing to do except read; that’s all you were allowed to do , not like you had any friends , or a phone to keep up with those friends — you didn’t have a tv to watch the latest shows , all you had was those books , the books the library in the town allows you to take by the dozen because she knows you well — you don’t tell your parents about these book , they’d be deemed “books of the damned” by your dad. tales of dragons and witches — werewolves and vampires. especially vampires.

your father had an irrational fear of vampires; the people of the night is what he called them. you thought he was ridiculous they way he would constantly talk about them , how you should never let them in because once you welcome them in they steal your soul. he spoke like they were real , he had such a fearful look in your eyes — kinda made you smile seeing such a normally put together and fearless man shudder at the sight of a mythical creature.

so here you were laying across your stuffie filled bed , reading a book about a vampire ; it was a love story , a vampire falls in love with a girl human girl , but he can’t be with her because of her parents , so he turns her and they live happily together — without a few challenges , it’s cute and cliche. the rain outside started hours ago , the branches from the trees slapping against your window as the rain poured from the sky , you could hear the wind from outside , strong but calming — soothing … until you felt it , the overwhelming feeling of being watched.

you got up from your book; walking over to window , there was nothing — literally nothing , the robert’s house just down the road , but not close enough you could see anything , so all you saw was the sad and lonely darkness. sighing as you made your way back to your bed to get ready to sleep … but before you could sit down there was a knock on the door.

who could that be? it was almost 11 pm , it couldn’t have been the robert’s , they were a elderly couple and their only son was away in college — so who could be at your door at this time? you slowly made your way down the steps , jumping when thunder shook the house adding on to your fear as you made it to the front door. “he-hello.” you spoke through the door. “um hello - this is so embarrassing , but i need your help.” the voice spoke softly through the door — a males voice. “well im really not allowed to open the door for anyone.” you said. “well are your parents home? may i speak to them?”

“they aren’t here either.” good going now he’s gonna rob you now that he knows you’re alone. you shrieked as thunder rumbled once again. “i guess it’s fine.” it’s a small town , everyone knows everyone; so whoever it is must know your parents. you slowly unlocked all the locks , slowly opening the door , peaking your head out at the stranger. “can i help you?”

his hair was bright red , it was the first thing you noticed about the man — second thing you noticed about him was he was extremely attractive , his eyes were alluring as he stood before you , dripping wet from the rain. “my car broke down and i don’t have service , i was wondering if you had a phone i could use to call a service?” his voice deep , but soft. “oh well i don’t have a smart phone.” he didn’t seem shock much like anyone else would be when you gave them this news. “no? — but we do have a house phone.” you said , opening the door a little wider. “it’s pretty old but it’s the best i can do.”

the man before you smiled , it was a warm and welcoming smile ; this man didn’t look like he would harm you. “thank you so much , you’re very kind.” and maybe you were just lonely , the silence that filled your house along with the loneliness that clouded your heart , you just wanted to be in the presence of someone. “um excuse me miss.” he asked , you realized you both were standing at the door , instead he was standing out in the pouring rain. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry.” you said. “come in , you must be so cold from the rain.” you moved to the side letting him in. “thank you.” his body towered over yours as he walked into your quiet little lonely home.

“you have a nice home.” he said. “th-thank you, my mom decorated herself , she loves doing things like that.” you said , he nodded. “well she’s a good designer.” he turned to you. “you must be so cold , let me light a fire so you can get warm before you call someone to come help , follow me.” you guide him to the living room. “just a second.” he watched you intently as you bent down to the fire place , putting a bunch of firewood your father chopped himself into the fire place , lighting it. “there , now you can get warm.” you said. “the phone is right there.” you pointed to the small table. “can i offer you something to drink while you call? some tea? coffee , i may have some hot chocolate left.”

he chuckled as your spoke fast. “tea is fine , thank you — i haven’t gotten your name.” he said. “oh me?” “i’m yn.” he tilted his head to the side. “what a beautiful name.” your cheeks heated up. “im heeseung.” he introduced. “you-you have a nice name too.” you spat out quickly , he was almost too beautiful to look at for long. “i’ll leave you to make your call.” you quickly shuffled away , to the kitchen.

“don’t be so embarrassing , you’ve seen men before.” you spoke to yourself while you waited for the water the heat. “of course not men as beautiful as him but you know what father would say , control your lust or spend eternity in hell.” you repeat to yourself as you continue to make the tea , unaware of heeseungs presence behind you , just watching you. “do you like sug- oh!” you jumped realizing he was standing right behind you. “did i scare you?” you hissed feeling some of the hot water spill on your hand. “did you hurt yourself?” he grabbed your hand , it was a bit red. “i-i’m okay.” your body began to heat up , but his hands were crazily cold. “but are you? you’re so cold.” he stepped back a bit. “let’s get you back to the fireplace.”

you sat the drink down , along with some of your mothers cookies that she spent all day baking. “enjoy.” you sat down on the couch beside him. “did you get in touch with someone?” he sat the cup down. “i couldn’t a signal , i guess the storm , guess i’ll have to wait in my car until morning when the storm is supposed to pass.” he said , you felt bad for him. “we-well where are you going?” you asked, taking a bite of the cookie. “well i was heading home , but as i was driving my car broke down and then my phone died , your house was the closest.” he frowned. “my brothers must be so worried , we only have each other so we’re really over protective .”

he had people that cared about him; you couldn’t help but be jealous — soon that was replaced with sympathy , he couldn’t sleep out in his car , he’d freeze to death. “my parents won’t be home for another three days.” you said , he was looking you right in the eyes. “an-and i would feel terrible knowing i let you sleep in a cold car alone in the storm , god would never turn someone away.” his eye brow furrowed but you didn’t notice it. “i guess you can stay the night , in the living room though.” you said. “just until the morning , maybe the phone will be working and then we can call someone and you can call your brothers to check in so they won’t be too worried.”

“really?” he said. “i don’t really want to bother you, you’ve already been so sweet to me.” you lowered your head with a shy smile at the praise. “it’s the least i can do.” you said. “maybe i’ll get some good karma.” you finished up the cookie you were nursing. “thank you.” he said. “maybe i can find you something to wear and you can wash up , i’m an only child and my father is not as buff and tall as you , so it might be hard.” you said , he smirked. “anything you give me is fine , your kindness has already stretched farther than anyone would ever go.”

while he showered , you sifted through everything trying to find him something to wear; also gathering a bunch of pillows and blankets for him to sleep on. you were able to find a pair of pajama pants that were too big for father , your mother was supposed to hem them but now it’s one less project off her hand — maybe she’ll spend time with you now. you laughed bitterly to yourself as laid the pillows and blankets out. you took the clothes in your hand , making your way to the bathroom.

you were about to knock on the door ; when it opened up, the boy stood there , a towel around his waist. “oh.” your eyes widened , but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. “i-i w-was coming to bring you some clothes , i put your other ones in the dryer.” you held your hand out. “it’s th-the best i could do i’m sorry.” you didn’t know why you were apologizing and you couldn’t help it. “it’s fine.” you finally looked up , he was staring down at you with a soft smile. “he-here.” he took it from your hands , his fingertips touching yours … still cold. “something wrong?” he asked , you shook your head. “well it’s just your ha-” your eyes landed on something behind him , the mirror. “that’s so weird your reflec— oh you have something right here.” his fingers found your chin , moving your head to look at him; you felt a shiver run down your spine. “you’re really beautiful you know that.” he said , your breath hitched. “o-oh th-thank you so much.”

you turn to quickly walk to your room , your body was hot. “pull yourself together yn.” you said to yourself. “just because you’re a virgin doesn’t mean you have to act like one.” you scold yourself , hearing a chuckle behind you , making you jump. “that’s cute.” heeseung said. “wh-what?” you said. “you’re trying to calm yourself down , even though i can hear your heart beating , it’s pounding out of your chest right now.” he picked up a picture of your family. “what a nice family.” he starts , and you slowly start to feel the fear creeping in your stomach , like you’ve might’ve made a mistake letting this man in. “th-thank you.”

his eye brow lifted in amusement. “you must really love your family.” he said. “so many pictures of them in your room.” he said. “i-i do.” hopefully you’d get to see them again. “that’s funny because if you look out in the front you wouldn’t believe they have a daughter , there’s no pictures of you out there.” that was true , your parents often said you were a accident , they were supposed to have children until later in life , wanting to spend time together without children — but you came and they had to give that up , your dad committed to the church ( and other women ) and your mother her “wifely duties”.

though they never specifically said that you were a mistake , they didn’t show any signs of that not being true. “my parents don’t really like me.” you frowned. “i ruined their life.” you chuckled , but heeseung could see the sadness in your eyes. “what about your other family?” he said. “i don’t have any, my parents cut them off because they weren’t “in tune with god like we are” , whatever that means.” here you were spilling your guts to this stranger who was standing in your room in only a towel — you still weren’t sure he didn’t want to kill you. “i wish i had a family , maybe like you and your brothers , at least they care enough to be worried.”

your bottom lip quivered a bit , you didn’t hear him walking over to you , until you felt his cold hand touch your skin , lifting your head. “is that what you wish?” he asked. “is that what you desire?” you finally look the man in the eyes — and what you saw frightened you; his eyes red , like his hair. “i can give you that.” fear flooded your body , your brain was screaming for you to run , but you couldn't, you were too scared ; until your brain finally got in contact with your feet and you basically pushed past him , trying to run out the room. “yn!” he grabbed your wrist. “i’m not gonna — let me go!” you screamed. “i’m not gonna harm you.” he said. “i swear.”

“wh-what are you? wh-what do you want?” you stuttered still fighting , trying to free yourself from his grip. “you know what i am.” he smiled. “you let me in.” then it hit you , the reflection , the cold hands — the red eyes … he was a vampire. “bu-but you aren’t supposed to be real. he chuckled. “i’m pretty sure i am real , i am holding you right now.”

“pl-please don’t hurt me.” you stuttered , he frowned. “i told you i didn’t want to hurt you.” he said. “we-well what do you want?” you stuttered. “whatever it is that you desire.” he said. “you desire family , you’re lonely.” he said. “i’ve been watching you for a while , you spend most of the time in the library , you stroll this boring small town all alone , no friends , no access to the world.” he said. “i can give you that , family… a love that last eternity.” he finally let your hands go. “please don’t run.”

you stood in silence for a second , his eyes were trained on you in case you tried to run. “my-my family — your family that ignores you , leaves you here to waste your youth.” his eyes looked towards your bed , where the book you were reading sat still open , he smirked. “what happens when they die? you spend your days in this house , no one else to spend it with until you pass on as well?” he was now backing you against the wall. “that’s no way for a girl like you to live , you deserve a life of happiness.” he said. “i can give you that.”

“wh-why me?” you asked. “why were you watching me?” he breathed in your scent , closing his eyes ; opening them , they were bright red again. “because you made it so easy for me.” he said. “you let me in.” there was nowhere for you to go , he trapped you against him and the wall. “you let me in because you crave me.” he whispered in your ear. “you crave to be loved , for someone to show you attention.” his nose brushed against your neck; you whimpered , biting your lip. “to be touched.” his hands found your waist. “tell me i’m wrong.”

you couldn’t , because he was right. “listen to your body.” he said. “is it gonna hurt?” you asked , his eyes darkened. “in the best way possible.” you felt his lips on your neck , you gasped , this was a new feeling. “you smell so good.” he licked your neck. “fu-fuck you taste good too.” he groaned , your legs were about to give up. “don’t fall on me now love.” he smiled. “let’s go lay down.”

he guided you to your bed , laying you down , climbing on to the bed; picking up the book with a smirk. “this book is full of false facts,” he said , tossing it ; it fell to the floor with a thud. “don’t read things like that.” his hands were on the side of your head. “i’ll teach you everything.” he went back to kissing your neck. “hee-heeseung.” your body twitched involuntarily. “teach you to hunt , to feed.” kissing down your chest and stomach , pushing your legs open. “to fuck.” kissing in between your thighs. “you’re so soaked.” he inhaled your scent as he pulled your shorts down along with your panties. “fuck you smell so good, so tiny.” you felt a little sting ; he'd just cut you. “ow.” he kissed the cut , blood getting on his lips , which he licked off, looking you in the eyes. “does that taste good?”

“so fucking good.” his voice was much deeper , full of hunger. “but i bet this pussy tastes even better.” his words were so crude , but you didn’t even get a chance to register it before he was licking your folds. “ah!” you moaned out as he ate you out. “heeseung , oh my god.” gasping out trying to sit up , but he pushed you down by your stomach. “be still princess , let me eat your pretty pussy.” sucking on your clit , your hips move upwards. “it-it feels like—” you felt his finger at your entrance. “so tiny , you can barely take my finger.”

“you’re about to cum.” his fingers ghosted your neck. “you wanna feel true ecstasy?” you nodded , he smirked. “good girl.” his fingers pierced your skin , you let out a scream , just as he curled his fingers inside you , triggering your orgasm , it was so overwhelming. “fuck.” he groaned , licking at your neck , feeding on your neck. “heeseung!” the metallic smell flooded your nostrils , his fingers still stringing against your clit — then you felt it , the venom entering your bloodstream , your body felt like it was moving in slow motion. “heeseung.” he pulled away , his fangs were fully on display , teeth and mouth dripping with blood.

heeseung could feel your blood coursing through his veins , you gave him a fill no other human gave him – he’d never find anything as close to this. “look at me.” he grabbed your face. “drink this.” bringing his forearm to his mouth , biting down on it. “open pretty.” opening your mouth , allowing his blood to drink into your mouth. “that’s it good girl , drink it.” he bit down on his lip , this was turning him on. “yeah- fuck.” his cock twitching against the towel , he was so quick to rip it off , letting his cock free; he was big , and thick. “gonna mold you into my perfect slut.”

you stared at the cross hanging in front of your bed as you felt him enter you. “he can’t help you anymore.” he whispered in your ear. “you’ve given yourself to me already.” he started moving. “heeseung.” you moaned. “and i don’t plan on ever letting you go.” if felt like you were on cloud nine , you faint taste of blood in your mouth , heeseung still lapping at the blood on your neck as he pounded into you. “fu-fucking mine.” he growled. “you gave me everything.” the bed was moving , your headboard slamming against the walls. “your mind.” *thrust* “your body” *thrust* “your soul.”

he began to thrust harder , bringing his forearm back to your mouth allowing you to take more of his blood , you clenched around him. “that’s fuck- fucking it -ngh- so tiny.” he grunted. “you’ll never need man to fill you up like this , gonna keep this pussy stuffed with my cock.” you stole his blood from him , but this just egged him on. “fuck i’m gonna cum.” bringing his thumb to your clit. “want you to cum with me , was cum inside your pussy.” he growled. “cum for me.”

your body starts to convulse, legs shaking; screaming. “that’s it cum all over my -ngh- my cock , fuck i’m gonna cum.” he held your hips stilled as he pushed his cock as deep as he could , shooting his load into your cunt. “ah shit!” he threw his head back. “heeseung.” you sighed , the room felt like it was spinning. “it’s okay , you’re gonna sleep for a while.” he said. “don’t be scared okay , i’ll be here when you wake up , you’ll be okay.” he kissed the side of your temples before you drifted off the sleep.

there was a bang on the door as he was dressing himself , he sighed picking up your now dressed body, sleeping body , making his way down in the front door opening it. “could you have knocked any fucking louder.” sunghoon looked down at your sleeping body back at him. “sorry i didn’t want to sit in the fucking car anymore while you turn the girl you’ve stalked for the past 2 months.” he said. “you ready , jay is blowing my phone up like crazy.”

“yeah , let’s go , the sun will be up soon.” heeseung said. “and she’ll be out for at least a few days.” he walked out closing the door behind him. “and what about her parents , are we just gonna leave them here wondering about their daughter?” heeseung put you in the back seat , before climbing in the drivers seat. “in two days we’re set to leave for a new town , they’ll just be getting home.” he said driving off. “we’ll stop by here , pick up a few things she’d might want to keep.”

“and then what?” sunghoon said. “we kill them , send ni-ki and jungwon in there.” he said. “you never said anything about killing them , let alone letting ni-ki and jungwon in there , they go over board and we don’t need that following us. heeseung turned to his friend while a smirk. “burn the house down then , these people are so stupid they’ll believe the bodies burned solely because of the fire , they won’t even look for anything else , and if they do , they’ll think it was a animal.” sunghoon shook his head. “you’re crazy.” he laughed. “they’ll probably think it was the damn devil or something.” they both laughed , heeseung looking in the mirror at your sleeping figure. “maybe we should let her in and do it , she’ll be too hungry to even realize who they are anyway.”

“jesus dude these townspeople aren’t too far off about the devil thing.”

yea , maybe ….

©️LUVYENI

[burymagdalene]

Take What You Need - S. Reid x Reader

After going full hermit mode during finals, you reach out to your relatively new boyfriend for a textbook he might be storing in his apartment. Or, Spencer putting you through his mattress for the first time as finals stress relief.

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader genre: Smut! Fluff? (18+ pls pls) tags: Softdom!Spencer, sub reader (bet you thought you'd never see the day I did this), pet names in Russian, finger sucking, fingering (fem!receiving), established (new) relationship, your first time together, praise kink, pinv sex, creampie, teasing!!! overstimulation. wc: 6k a/n: I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY! Writing this during my finals felt like method acting. I imagine many of you are just now finishing or in the throes of finals- here's a treat!

Your head is hurting in places that you don’t even think have been identified in the anatomy of the brain while you continue to type away at your final essay. 

You had thought you’d given yourself ample time to begin and finish the essay without any stress-induced cramming. Yet, here you are, halfway through with the deadline a couple days away.

Phone on do not disturb and your social life coming to a screeching halt– you have forced yourself to go awol in order to get everything you need done.

Which worked. For a bit.

Now, you’re panicking over a Russian literature textbook you didn’t even know was on the syllabus that you’re supposed to reference in your final. 

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

The first time you left your apartment in the last 48 hours was to check your university library for it– no dice. You drove to your local library after, out of luck there as well. Who on earth is using the 9th edition Russian and Comparative Literature text you need so horribly? They do not need it as much as you do.

Dejected and sighing from your pounding headache, you rest your forehead against your steering wheel, the sun is going down on another day without finishing your paper. Then it hits you. The biggest distraction in your life, is also the smartest person in your life. If the library doesn’t carry what you need, you might just have to put your pride aside and call Spencer.

You had promised yourself to use him as a form of reward once you completed everything, but you just have to ask him now. You can’t possibly get too distracted. 

One of your rings sounds off in your car before he’s picking up.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise. How’s the studying?”

Even through the tinny speaker of your phone his voice releases butterflies in your stomach.

“Spencer! Hey. Umm. It’s not going very well, actually...”

“Oh hon,” his voice drips with remorse from the other line, “I told you how breaks would make it all go more smoothly than whatever guerilla method you decided on.”

You smile to yourself briefly, before a surge of emotion comes over you. Of course, he was right. Your stomach is growling, head aching and going stir crazy in your apartment these last couple of days has not turned out to be the picture perfect portrayal of self-care.

In a small voice you reply, “I know. I’m sorry. I just- I was wondering if you had a textbook I need for my final. Russian and Comparative Lit? Or something adjacent?”

“Hm? Oh, please don’t say you’re sorry. I honestly might. Would you like to come over and look with me?”

Your fingers come up nervously to play with your bottom lip, “Yeah, please, if it’s no trouble.”

“No trouble at all, Zayka.”

Whatever it is, he says it smug enough that you roll your eyes, starting your car back up to finally get to the next step in finishing your paper.

Of sorts.

Like some heightened form of sensory deprivation, once you’re stepping up the staircase to get to Spencer’s unit, you can smell his scent from the bottom of the steps. The aged leather on his clothes and hand soap he uses that clings to him all day circling around your dizzy head as you give one, two knocks at his door.

His slight stubble and loosened tie catch your eye first. You want to run a hand where the sliver of his collar bone is revealed. 

You give him a shy smile instead, Spencer pulling you into a hug in his doorway with a kiss on top of your head where he speaks against it, “I missed you. Come in, come in.”

Sighing as he pulls away you beeline towards his bookshelf. Seeing it’s a stack of differing Russian texts on the floor he must’ve pulled out on your drive over.

“Oh, Spencer, thank you. Even if it’s not here, I seriously owe you one.”

He gestures his hand in an oh stop motion and walks over to where you’re reading the spine of each ridiculously long book.

“You don’t owe me anything. Happy to help. You’ve been pretty stressed out, huh?”

This pauses your flicking through titles like a cue in your system to spill out every detail you haven’t shared in the last couple days.

A deep sigh, then, “Yeah. It’s been really tough. I thought I’d be able to crank everything out, but. I just feel so burnt out. And the library by me is always so busy that I have to study at home, and my room is a mess and I haven’t bought any groceries, I just. I feel horrible. I have this headache,” you rub your face with your hands, “I’ve been getting no sleep and my body does not know how to handle this anxiety, it’s… it like, physically hurts.”

You’re on your knees by his coffee table and before you’re finishing your onslaught of complaints Spencer is sinking to his knees beside you.

“Oh, honey. That sounds miserable. You’ve drained yourself.” His hand comes to your lower back to rub at soothingly. “You need to regulate your nervous system. Let me feed you or-”

“This is it!”

You cannot believe your eyes. A perfect condition of the exact textbook you need to finish your paper. You owe Spencer all the stars in the sky, that big beautiful brain of his. Leaning over, you peck his lips swiftly. Which was your first mistake. You always need another.

“Mm,” he hums, “I’m glad. However, I do think you should embark on whatever journey reading through this will take you tomorrow.”

“What? But I’m so close,” another kiss is being pressed to his soft lips, “I just. I just need to-”

The way he’s looking at you. The pressure of his kiss lingering on your overactive mouth. The warm light of the lamp coming from his bedroom. You know if you keep pressing, you actually are going to have to leave, Spencer not being the type to force you in any capacity. 

You have to shut your mouth.

Spencer pulls your hand into his, lifts up to press a kiss to your knuckles, “Well. If you got everything you need…”

A panic-inducing sentence. 

“I d-didn’t.”

“Oh? Is there something else-”

“I, um. What did you say earlier? On the phone, in Russian. I… was wondering, actually.”

His lips pull into a genuine smile, one that makes you ache. You missed it so much. 

“Ever so curious. It just means bunny, it’s a common nickname. Could also translate to baby.”

Embarrassment heats up your neck. 

“I’m not even! I’d argue I’m more of a cat than anything else.”

“Hm. Kotik. I’d disagree though. I could practically hear the scrunch in your nose when you called me.”

“Ugh! Whatever. What does that make you then?”

“Whatever you want.”

Is he doing this on purpose? Is he being extra impossibly irresistible because he’s trying to make you stay or because of your distance from him? Either way, you hold your breath. 

“I-if I’m a bunny you have to be one too, that only makes sense.”

“Of course. Cross-species breeding can get weird.”

He has to be doing this on purpose. You haven’t done it yet. But Spencer is no stranger to working you up. The pet names, the fucking insinuations. Spencer is nothing but careful with his words around you. He’s being a tease out of his own volition. 

Knees starting to get achy where they’re pressed into his hardwood, you shift a bit. Nothing more than a shift, but given the context, lets Spencer know exactly what’s keeping you chained to his apartment. 

“Um. I think I’ll stay.” you blurt nearing a socially awkward delivery as you break his eye contact.

“Oh thank God,” he laughs out through a sigh of relief, “I don’t think I could’ve morally let you go home.”

“I just think I deserve a little break.”

“Mhmm,” Spencer rubs your jaw lightly with his thumb, “you’ve been working so hard, you deserve more than a little break.”

“Yeah? What should my big break be? Travel somewhere warm… should we go to Mexico?”

“I’ll take you to Mexico. You look so exhausted I’d just about take you anywhere.”

You giggle and nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “How about your bedroom?”

Not even having to look up to see it, you can feel the way his eyes widen. Having made out with Spencer a fair share on his couch, more than playful sleepovers at your apartment, and even an instance where Spencer had fingered you under your skirt in the parking lot of an AMC (before turning around to drive back home, skipping the movie) you’ve built up enough confidence to tell him you’re ready to feel him this way now. 

“Wh- yeah. Yeah, course.”

With Spencer’s whole neuroses around germs and “outside clothes on the bed” you actually have not gotten the privilege of laying down in there. Sure, you’ve picked through his closet and rummaged through some bedside books, but nothing wrapped up in his silky white sheets.

Your knees feel wobbly as you stand up before Spencer, gazing softly down where he’s criss-cross on his floor. He smiles up at you softly, reaching his hand up to rub your hip with his thumb over your jeans.

“What should I do to help all that stress?” He trails off, if spoken by another person, this could seem like a bit of a sarcastic remark, but Spencer continues to live and breathe sincerity.

Laughing slightly you shrug, “Come up here first, please.”

Sluggishly, Spencer gets up on his feet, his hand remaining on your hip now that he’s face to face with you. 

After kissing you gently he rubs his nose softly against yours, “I could give you a massage- you know stimulating the parasympathetic nervous system will help your cortisol levels a lot. You also just seem tense, sitting a lot in front of your laptop?”

“I mean,” you laugh and kiss him while pausing your sentence, “I’d like that. But. I want you in a different way. More than that... ahem, in your room.”

“I kind of just wanted to hear you say it.”

Once Spencer was able to pry his hands from your waist and lips from your mouth (with difficulty, he really missed you) he takes your hand into his to walk to his bedroom.

Of course you’ve been in here before, but right now every detail in his room; every book on a desk, every folded line in his bedding seem to have a shining glow around them. Through rose-tinted glasses Spencer's belongings cast an easy feeling over you. 

Being led to the bed you’ve never been in doesn’t incite any fear because you’re so familiar with the surroundings. Already in-tune with him and how he’s so particular about the things he owns, proves just how encapsulated by all-things-Spencer you are right now, completely safe and in your element. 

Warm hands bring your arms around his broad shoulders, kissing you against his bedframe. The cool carved wood pressing indents into the back of your thighs as you allow your full body weight against it. 

In your school-induced mania, you’d nearly forgotten how obsessed you are with kissing Spencer. His pillowy lips against yours, tasting him. He’d nearly get irritated at you for kissing him too hard in public. Now, after locking yourself away you're savoring how his tongue skims your bottom lip as he’s asking for access into your mouth. 

You whine and pinch your eyebrows together when he slightly pulls away to talk, “Darling, you’re so lovely, so beautiful,”

Pouting, you pull him back in by his collar. Before, you had been so adamant about focusing on your work and now you’re falling fast into the mess of hormones he typically makes of you. A total 180 in the past hour.

Allowing yourself to give into what has been simmering the last few days has you jittery and clumsy. Tightening and loosening your grip on Spencer’s shirt you’re tugging him closer and pushing him away when the whining from your throat becomes too embarrassing. Desperate and determined.

Your open-mouthed whining is coming from an understandable place though. Mouths melding together and a taught thigh wedged between your legs, you’re losing yourself in the way he tastes. 

Spearmint toothpaste that you both use on his breath. The shared taste you two have after you bought Spencer’s (out of a moment of weakness) when you happened to run out of your own while he was away on a case. A girlish, silly pining that now has your eyes rolling back as you taste yourself on him and consequentially, Spencer on you as well. 

Spencer curls your tongues together, grabs your hips flush against his and you whimper out a small final plea of a moan against his lips before he’s pulling away again.

“You’re being a little siren,” Spencer grins and places a kiss underneath your jaw where he knows you’re the most sensitive. 

“Sorry- was I? I missed you so much,” you trail off and kiss the warm skin of Spencer’s neck before he pulls you off him slightly.

Unabashedly staring directly at your bitten lips while replying, Spencer falls into an easy grin, “Don’t say sorry. How many times have I said I love your sounds?”

Shame creeps up in a gentle heat across the back of your neck, “Um. Too many!”

You get a simple tsk from Spencer in return. Not having the energy to argue with you over the shyness around moaning, he settles on a simple noise of disapproval.

Gently taking both of your wrists, he pulls you up from where you were propped against his bed frame and maneuvers you till the back of your knees are being tickled by his lush bedding. Maybe it's a tickle or just your skin's hyper awareness of what's to come.

Having tasted him earlier, there has been a discovered pining demand for Spencer you cannot keep at bay anymore. His sweet lips, a sugary glaze to the sour week you’ve had. Like the time you licked a dribble of honey off his finger when he was making you a cup of tea and you had to perch yourself on his lap for an hour kissing him senseless. You have no control over that dam inside you once broken. 

Cradling the back of your head while he guides you to his bed, you instinctively wrap your legs around his narrow hips, hoping to do anything in your power to keep his body weight on you for as long as humanly possible. 

“Babe- baby,” Spencer whines out, having to wiggle away from your grasp if any clothes were to be shed tonight, “let me undress you, please.”

Fine, you think, separating for that, should be livable.

Teasingly, Spencer rubs his hands up and down your waist, pulling your shirt up slowly as he massages into your skin. A wiggle in your hips has him smiling in acknowledgment but continues to toy with your top.

“You’re giving me goosebumps,” you pout.

“Good goosebumps?”

“Mmf. Yeah.” You turn to hide your face defiantly into his bedding.

“Always good goosebumps with you.” He smiles and pulls your shirt off, wiggling and arching your back, you help him even through your faux sulking.

Spencer’s sheets meet your bare skin (no bra, you couldn’t manage something so menial during your studying) and glide over your torso like a flat pebble skipping over a lake.

The seam of your jeans between your legs are pushing into your center as Spencer’s thigh remains pushing in small intervals while kissing over your chest. Approaching an overwhelming stimulation, your hips writhe as you grab silently at Spencer's tie. 

“T-take my pants off too, Spence, wanna feel you.”

“Aww,” he pulls up from your chest, “they look so good on you though.” He relents still, sitting on his knees as he fiddles with the band of your jeans.

A playful flicker in his eyes and he’s gently pulling up and down at it. You scrunch up your face, subconsciously aware of his bunny comment, and grab at his wrist. Only a small fuck falls from your lips.

“Mm, too much, huh? I’ll get them off of you, my love.”

Your hands reach up to tug off his barely knotted tie to fling it off while he slides the rough fabric down your legs, placing a kiss to a bruised knee on the way. Once your jeans are making a home on his floor he continues moving down further so he can take off your socks, kissing over the fabric of your panties.

You giggle a little, they’re not your sexiest, moreso cute; cotton with a little bow. 

“These are my lucky panties.” You explain through your laugh. 

“Yeah? Did you put them on in hopes they’d help you find your textbook?” His hands are holding the sides of your thighs now and he bends down to take the small bow between his teeth tugging up before letting it go in a snap against your belly.

“Mm-mm. I just decided that now.”

“From now on they’re your lucky underwear?” He looks up at you between your legs with a lopsided grin.

“Yup,” you pop out the “p” sound, “but you can still take them off even though they’re lucky.”

Spencer hums into a kiss against your inner thigh, “This is great news. May I?”

“Yes, you may.”

You can feel how wet you are by the slight resistance there is while peeling your panties off. Spencer hasn’t made you cum in quite some time, busy schedules and all. Now with finals, you can’t even remember the last time you got yourself off. The dripping into your panties reminding you of how long it must have been.

All that time not thinking about it is catching up to you as you feel more deprived than you have in your entire life.

“God- Spence. I want it… really bad.” These are the begging eyes you give him when you have to pull out your biggest trick in the books. When you’re making him drive you to the mall or begging to leave a hickey on his neck when he has to leave for work in thirty minutes.

Safe to say, they work pretty well.

“Baby, you can’t look at me like that,” he laughs, “I’m not in any mood to tease you.” His voice fills with a teasing tone anyway, the dirty liar. “You’ve been through enough already, huh?”

“Mhmm…” Your affirmation melts into a hum of pleasure as Spencer very gently runs his thumb over your entrance. With the coat of your slick on the pad of his thumb, Spencer brings it up to his mouth for a moment before sucking it off. You can’t help but shoot him a jealous look as your thighs close to rub together.

“Needy,” Spencer mumbles while pulling his thumb out, shifting up towards you so he can bring it to your lips. Sucking in happily, you bite down gently on his thumb, smiling around it as you hear a little groan coming his way. 

Thumb now covered in both of your saliva, he uses it as extra lubricant to rub circles over your already wet clit. Another reminder of how long its been hits you with how you already feel close. With just a few circles on your clit, you’re already clenching around nothing, hoping to be filled.

A squeak topples from your throat as Spencer switches his thumb to two fingers against you.

“Y-yeah, like that-”

Spencer is your boyfriend- he’s sweet and attentive and genuine. But he is also evil and horrible. He takes his hand away.

Your shocked gasp makes him laugh and move to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m mean. I’m sorry I’m sorry,” his laughter tickles your neck, “you’re so much fun to tease.”

You can barely hear him, not laughing along. Solely focused on wiggling under his weight, trying to gain any more friction on your clit.

No fight left in you, you want to politely take what Spencer gives you, but a slight panic fills your mind at the thought of having to wait much longer.

“Please- I’ll be good…”

“I know angel, you always are for me.”

Before the praise can affect you to its fullest potential, his fingers are returning against you. Three of his long perfect fingers dance across your clit as it thumps pathetically against them.

“Mmm! Shit, thank you, thank you-“ you babble softly. 

“Want them inside?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Really?”

“Really!” 

You’re not above this. Giving into every prompt easily as if you’re made for it. With all the planning and studying and working this week you have no issue with surrendering control over to someone else for a change.

Spencer flips his wrist so the inside is towards you and he’s positioning his ring and middle finger against you. You’ve never felt so spoiled, your clit is still throbbing painfully the second he removes his fingers to put them inside you, you never can get enough. 

The stretch of two fingers has you preening, accommodating his digits in a way that makes you so excited for the stretch of his cock soon.

“God, I missed this,” Spencer pants, “you’re so stunning, so warm.”

You allow the new wave of wetness to pool around his fingers with little to no guilt. If he says he likes it so much, what’s a little more?

He curls his fingers up and your jaw drops. He can find your sweet spot faster than you or any toy you have can and it makes you hate him and love him more and more each time. Moving languidly, you perch yourself on your elbows, wanting to gaze down between your thighs. 

Your eyes trail to the soft skin of his inner wrist, pretty blue veins, the network of his life, on display as they lead down to where you’re the most sensitive. The snap of his slender wrist as he speeds up, goes deeper and deeper until your hand instinctively comes down to pet your clit in tandem with his thrusts. 

Pushing your hand away, Spencer replaces it with his hand that’s not working at your g-spot, silent with his full attention on making you cum. You appreciate this, but if he’s trying to tip you over, he’s going to have to keep talking to you in the dirty sweet way he’s mastered.

“B-baby,” your voice is shot, “talk to me, talk to me.”

“Mm. My pretty baby-”

“Can you call me that again… t-the Russian?”

Bending down and dragging his lips across your neck he hums out, “Moy Zayka,” coming up he traces his tongue against your bitten lips, “Say it…”

Two bats of your wet eyelashes and you’re muttering “Zayka,” in the softest voice you can muster, shyness drying your speech.

“Mhm. Good. Sounds so pretty coming from you.”

“God, don’t talk like that or I’ll cum right now, fuck.”

“You said-” he begins, but you cut him off with a moan. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right.”

Five more seconds of Spencer's warmth radiating off him along with the sensation of his taking you apart between your legs and you realize you have to warn him you’re about to cum. Like seriously, about to.

“Spence! Close!” You muster, legs shaking slightly as proof.

“Yeah? Good girl.” He continues his movements until black spots dance behind your eyelids and you’re coming hard against his fingers. 

Working you through it until your chest is rising and falling, he takes his fingers out, but two fingers remain on your clit.

Shit. All that fucking begging got you here.

Moans increasing, your thighs clamp together around his wrist. Trying to stop him, but just making the sensation more intense. You gasp and try to open your legs back a bit. It’s torture, but it’s the least you’ve been able to think in the past week, which is exactly what you needed.

Sitting back on his knees, dick making a tent in his trousers, Spencer smiles at you squirming. “You okay?”

Are you? Yesyesyesyesnononono. You find yourself nodding anyway.

“M… ‘ore.”

“What’s that?”

Toes squeezing, your clit starts up that heartbeat again, reviving itself at his words. Ready to cum again.

“More!” You whisper, hoping he won’t ask again.

Spencer kisses your knee sweetly, rubs his cheek against it. “You’re doing so well. Really, making me so happy.”

Your entrance flutters at his words and the overstimulation has gotten to a point of just brain melting pleasure, and your legs fall open easily, allowing him more mobility once again.

The second time you orgasm on his fingers today you’re jolting upright. Hand pressed into the mattress while the other one clamps over your mouth as you tremble watching him rub your clit and pull away at the first whine he hears from you.

“Holy shit,” You sigh out, head falling down to his pillow.

Spencer’s face to face with you again, kissing your heated skin gently. 

“How are you feeling? Can you give me another one? We can stop here, sweetie.”

“Noooo,” your lips spread into a grin at the thought of coming around his dick for the first time. How good he must feel, how it will literally melt your brain into a puddle. “I want you-”

He kisses your lips like he would when picking you up to take you to dinner. Sweet and innocent like you weren’t just painting his fingers with your release. 

You trail a trembling hand up to begin undressing him. A shameful fumble with one button that takes two times as long to unbutton than it normally takes you. Spencer’s hands cup yours to steady them and finishes off the rest of his buttons with ease.

Maybe that’s another reason to call him Dr.- the steady hands he usually has. Unless you’re giving him head, but he definitely wouldn’t be experiencing that during a procedure. He’s also not even that kind of doctor. Maybe you’ll ask him to roleplay-

You look down and Spencer is in his underwear. You could thank God. His dick is the hardest you’ve ever seen it and it’s still under its confines. The tip has leaked enough to turn the fabric slightly see through and you can make out the details of him. Your mouth is watering. 

Without a second thought you trail a nail over his bulge. As Spencer sucks in a breath you snap the band of his underwear against his lower stomach, causing him to suck in his lips and his dick to twitch.

Almost as affected as you are, Spencer breathes shallowly and looks at you expectantly till you’re lowering the band and revealing all of him. Thick and long and covered in his precum you immediately grow hazy, giving him a few pumps to gauge how he might feel inside you. He’s going to split you open.

Spitting in your hand (not that you even needed to, he's already wet with precum) you continue to jack him off, his stomach curling in when you shift into a reverse grip on him and stroke his head a few times. His hands finally grow shaky as they reach down to stop you from making him finish too fast.

Momentarily Spencer stands by the bed to remove his underwear fully, you watch his dick as it bobs in the air, wanting to give it a steady place to move into until it’s-

“Spence, please.”

“Yeah, pretty.” He nods in understanding, his tough resolve breaking down more now as he also realizes how you’re going to feel around him for the first time.

Laying down, he positions himself between your legs. He wraps his arms around your head pulling you into a kiss before moving them to cage you in while staring into your eyes. You’re trying to keep eye contact but you can feel his cock brush your stomach and you could die.

“You still want this? You’re not feeling dizzy or anything?”

“Y-yes. Not dizzy. I just really want you inside.”

He laughs and kisses your neck, “Yeah. I really do too.”

Warm palms are positioning your hips against his bed and move to break you apart. He swipes his dick, wetting it with you, before he makes any moves to penetrate you. It feels really good- you’ve heard your friends mention it, but this feels… super good. 

Going down to collect more wetness, he draws his head back up to circle your clit again. It’s probably a form of torture for him- but with the way you’re nearly giggling with pleasure, he figures it won’t hurt to do it a few more times.

“Baby,” he shudders out a breath against your forehead, “This feels really good, but I’ll cum like this, and I’d rather it be inside you.”

You laugh and wrap your hands around his neck (Spencer is polite enough to ignore the way you squeeze it slightly), giddy with happiness.

“Kay. Can you fuck me like that until we both cum next time, though?”

The way you say it, so conversational and wholesome makes Spencer clear his throat. You’re going to be the death of him. 

“Anything you want, angel.”

Then he’s moving his head against you with intent. Eyes flickering between where he’s entering you and to check your face for pain (which remains in a blissed out expression throughout the entire thing). 

Pushing the tip fully in, both of you gasp with a newfound lucidity that hasn’t overcome you since you were in the living room. There could be a LED light sign on both of your foreheads that flashes oh fuck in pink shining blinks with hearts surrounding it.

“Oh baby-” He whispers over your repeated ah, ah, ah’s.

“F-feels so good,” You squeak out, knowing he’s gonna be a worried mess to make sure you’re not feeling any pain.

With that confirmation he allows himself to rest his head down, chin against your forehead as he moans into your hair while bottoming out. The stubble is sort of scratchy against you but in a way that’s beckoning your legs open wider.

Your legs automatically wrap around his hips to keep him at the deepest point, wanting to feel the way he’s first opening you up forever. Lips gasping and closing to place a kiss at your forehead he whimpers out, “Baby, gotta let me move.”

So you let him move. You would probably do anything he suggests right now. A comical dizzy swarm of birds circling your head with a dumb smile on your face. He wants to move, your legs spread open on the bed. He wants to cum inside you? You’re gonna let him.

His first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. You make a note to yourself never to spend longer than a day away from him again. Then, another note to do this every day with him the rest of your life.

Spencer repositions himself so that his arms are straightened, alleviating some of his weight off you (sigh), but allows him to move into you at a better angle. 

Moaning, you turn your face to the side, looking at the inside of his wrist again. The intense thrusts combined with his delicate skin and fragile veins right there, you get dizzy. Shifting a little, you place a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Then another, a wet mess of a kiss that delivers the message of complete infatuation. 

Spencer groans and realizes how far away from your lips he is right now and moves to his forearms again. He pets the top of your head and whispers into the air, “You feel so perfect- just like I thought. You’re so perfect everywhere.”

In his vulnerable state, you’re right in front of his perfect, untainted neck, and you want to lick and suck at it to work through the mind numbing pleasure, like it would ground you to reality. Usually, he needs more coercing, with the team and all, it’s very hard to hide hickeys. Yet,

“Spence, baby,” you whine, putting that lilt in your voice that tears him apart, “can I kiss your neck, please?”

Immediately, “Yeah, honey, take what you need.”

And your tongue immediately licks a stripe up his skin, salty and sweet with sweat. Sucking the skin between your teeth you leave a fresh deep mark for him to parade around the next few days. You say sorry in your head looking at it, but it doesn’t make it to your lips.

He laughs and shakes his head, knowing exactly what his skin is going to look like tomorrow and in retaliation he moves your thighs overtop his shoulders, hitting a spot inside you that has your mind fuzzing. 

Your hips thrash a bit, not used to being unable move and wiggle around the pleasure like you typically do. Especially with this new stretch inside you, you’re keening.

“That feel good, baby?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, “God. Yes.” 

“Tell me I feel good.”

“Spencer,” you whine, dragging out the syllables, “you feel so good. Fucking me so good.”

He moans high, then, “Now, tell me you love me.”

With an even smaller pause than before, “Fuck, I love you.”

“Mhm. Again.”

“Baby- I love you-” You whimper out, realizing instantly he’s about to make you cum once more.

“I love you.” He replies gently, juxtaposing his thrusts again, which are now growing sloppy with his nearing orgasm.

Pulling him into a harsh kiss, you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, trembling with his skin between your jaws. Having the power to draw blood but keeping yourself at bay. Ever a good girl for him.

Without having to ask, he brings a hand to rub your clit again. You let go of his lip with a groan, head falling back against his pillow with your back arching into him.

“C-can I cum?”

“Of course you can. Baby, ‘need to feel you coming around me, I know you feel so good.”

Who are you to deny that? Biting the inside of your cheek, you're coming for him again. It’s better than you could’ve imagined, the unstoppable stretch inside you while your walls flutter for reprieve around him. Better yet, Spencer is spilling into you. 

You whine high in your throat feeling him cum inside you, somehow making more room for this alongside his cock inside you. Overwhelmed, you grab for his hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours instantly, a whimpering mess alongside you.

When his hips are still against yours, you cannot think a single thing, you only feel. The slow slow slowness of him pulling out of you with a pop. The drip of his cum out of you like a sedative. The kisses against your face and lips.

Nails scratching lightly at the base of his neck convince him enough of your coherency, nothing to panic over. Spencer is giving you space to be fucked out of your mind.

“My sweet, pretty bunny, I wanna clean you up. Can I? I’ll be gone for just a moment.”

You groan, that does not sound like something that should happen. 

“Coming with…” You mumble, barely legible.

Spencer laughs, “Yeah. Right. You’re not walking on those two legs again today. See? I’ll run.”

You smile back and close your eyes, shooing him away with a wave of your hand. He’s right too, you barely even notice the time pass before he’s back with a warm rag.

He’s cleaned you up, positioned you to lay on top of him and is pulling teasingly at your earlobe, muttering something about a takeout order he placed for you both.

You eat cuddled up on his sofa, watching some new space documentary perched on his lap. You’re sitting right by the textbook you pulled out earlier and you haven’t even noticed, your essay so far from your mind that the only thing you could possibly learn right now is the pattern of Spencer’s breath against the back of your neck.

[littledes1re]

Hiii, i love your writing. Could you please do one where you and Joel just started dating. And maybe go to a little event or social gathering and he sees a lot of guys looking at you and talking to you and he gets jealous and sad. Thinking you deserve better, younger and he gets insecure. But you make sure he knows you love him. Thanks!!

My Old man

Warnings: Joel is insecure, Age gap!, lots of fluff!!!

It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way. Countless times when you two went out for dinner together or were invited to some event in Jackson, you were stared at. The staring was from young men who wanted to dance with you, who thought you were pretty, hot. But the other old men were staring too. And even the women. They spent the evening gossiping about how the hell you could have landed as a pretty young girl with an old geezer like Joel. Is he holding you hostage? Is he manipulating you? You'd heard it all.

But you never paid attention to this. You were happy with Joel, more than happy. All those other men in Jackson could never give you what Joel gives you.

But Joel still took it to heart.

The looks from others, the gossip. He knew this would happen after he held your hand and said he wanted to be with you. He had his doubts; he never thought you, a beautiful young woman, could ever love him. But you pushed those doubts away every time. You loved him more than anything in this world, and you showed him that, every day.

You saw his face. Pouting and eyebrows furrowed. Deep in thought. This event was a small dance, nothing serious. Joel didn't even want to go, but Maria insisted. Every time any of those men even glanced at you, he got jealous and had a sad face, that looked down on the ground, just thinking. You couldn't bear to look at it much longer.

"Maria, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well, so Joel and I are leaving early."

You worried Joel with that. He immediately set off alarm bells and asked you if you were okay. When you got home, the questions continued, but you had something else on your mind.

“You mr.miller gonna sit down and we will have a little talk about something.” His face was all confused while you pushed him gently down to the couch, making him sit down.

You sat down on the coffee table in front of him, his sweet eyes never leaving you, like an obedient puppy.

“Baby. My old man. There is nothing in this world that I want more than you. And only you.” You could see his face drop and even heart drop at that.

He sighed into the room, looked at you with a certain exhaustion, and sadness. Uncertainty. "Don't look at me like that, Joel. I mean it, and you should know it."

"Sweetheart, I—I just don't know what you see in me. Heck, these guys that look at you are all fit, they can go with you to those stupid events without whining about their backs, can keep up with you and they don’t have a past.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You sat up and gently sat down his lap, his cosy pullover hugging you just right.

“I can’t believe you think like that, joel. I don’t care about any of these guys. I don’t care about you ‘not being fit’ which is not true by the way—“ you stopped pointing at his crotch and winking, earning a chuckle from him.

“I don’t even want to go to these stupid events either, look— we went because of maria. Nothing more. Wanted to be home with my man and watch some stupid movies he loves so much.”

“Hey—they ain’t stupid.” He chuckled again.

“Yea yea, whatever. But this is what I really mean joel. Since I came to jackson you were the only one in my eyes. Didn’t care about your past, didn’t care about your back, didn’t care about the fact that you were grumpy—“

“Wait now you are putting extra things in there”

“Sh sh. Didn’t care about any other boys. I saw you and the way you handled things turned me on, your way of demanding, taking care of people, being so stubborn but also the kindest of them all. The one who came to my house because I skipped patrol one day and asked if I was okey.”

His sweet eyes turned glassy, as he held you on your hips and squeezed, letting out a little smile.

“You’re too good to me, baby.”

“Nah, it’s not being good, i’m telling the truth.” You nodded, gently stroking his hair, playing with his curls. “Of course, everything is going slower, of course there are things that you can’t actively do. But I love it just because of that. I enjoy slow evenings on the porch with you. I enjoy waking up late and drinking black coffee that tastes like poison—“ he let out a giggle.

“And I love your wood carvings, your handsome face, your white hair that suits you so much, that grumpy face you always make whenever you need to read something with your glasses.”

You looked into each other’s eyes, he leaned in and connected your lips.

“Can’t believe I have you, baby. My pretty girl.” He cupped your face softly, giving you a peck on your forehead.

“Promise me you are gonna stop having these thoughts about yourself.”

“Can’t really stop them, but I will try and do my best from letting them get me.” He whispered, nodding his head to you.

You put your forehead to his and looked into his beautiful brown eyes, the world around you going silent.

“I love you, joel.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @cuntyhunty22

[chow0w]

i come to suggest kinkajou for redesigning!! :3 your style is so incredibly BEAUTIFUL bro

It's been a long while, but I finally have the redesign! @steve-the-dino wanted to see this too!

I love this baddie, but she was SO incredibly hard to design for like no reason at all. This is my third attempt. I was going for some kind of flower-power vibe... almost like those wallpapers you would see at playplaces/party rooms as a kid. I really like the electric, exciting vibe that they have and thought it would be a good fit for Kinkajou since she gives off the same intense positivity!

The design speaks for itself - heavily saturated from long periods of time in the sun, with flower/polka dot patterns being the main recurring theme of her design. Even though her design is mostly pink/purple/yellow in canon, I wanted to add some greens to reinforce that flowery vibe + put a little more diversity into her pallet. I'm forever going to be slightly upset that Kinkajou didn't get her own book, especially considering how important her character is to the jade mountain arc! It would have been nice to see the darkness of dragons timeframe from her perspective, or even just get a winglet that explains her thoughts during the conclusion of the arc. I love you forever Kinkajou...

That's all for this design! Sorry for the short (In my standards) blurb - I might revisit Kinkajou's design in the future, if a better idea ever comes to mind. Thank you all so much for your support of this redesign series! I didn't really start posting consistently until mid-April, and to see that I'm already nearing 1k is a massive win in my book!

You may notice the lack of list on this post. I usually put my waitlisted/completed characters down here, but it's getting a little long so I moved it to a pinned post! Feel free to check that out if you're looking for your favorite - and drop a request in my inbox if not! Bear in mind, you can always inbox me for a character who's already waitlisted. I'll tag you when it's done!

edited:

Hi guys! just wanted to put the vote here too so more people see it. For context, this is a vote on what we should do to celebrate 1k!

later (＠´ー`)ﾉﾞ

[deesseshesca]

PAC: What they would do to your naked body that they will be afraid to admit ? (18+)

(SINGLE SINCE BIRTH - ERA ~4 )

No, you are NOT dreaming ... SHE'S BACKKKK !

Pile 1 

Hey  girl/boy  hey ! How are you doing ? Miss y’all so much ! Anyways don't look at me like that … in what kind of mess did you put yourself into ? Imma move on but we definitely circling back to this next time. Now we are all about the way your next partner would dream about treating your naked body but will be too afraid to admit it. 

First thing first, y’all know I am not the one to sell y’all dreams, right ? No coming back did not change that side of me but babe you are the turning point in your next lover's life. I mean there's a clear before and after effect. Now I’m hearing the lyrics of Brokey: When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown

You ain't never fuck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out). There's a difference; the second part of the verse does not apply to you. Like you did not do anything to make that person change. You did not want that person to change. They saw what you were about and decided to change their way. You might never know how much of a trash lover they were until they decide to be honest with you. In my vision, I see a guy dressed like a bad guy in the 50s looking at the pretty preppy girl in pink from a mile away and instead of wanting to do bad to her he want to show her how good love can get.She's the only one worth his good side. I aint saying y’all fit that narrative is just an analogy. 

In their mind, there's no crazy possessive act or even passion. If we stick to my vision, they want you in their pretty car, caressing your leg, keep losing themself in your pretty brown eyes (some of y’all have green eyes and enjoying deep conversion. They don't even want to take you out at night because they want to make sure you know they are serious and this is not some kind of trap. Now sometimes, late at night in their room, they may catch a boner because they mind is almost ``forcing`` them to think of you in a more sexual manner. They will think of kissing your neck (not leaving hickeys because the mere fact that you let them this close to your delicate energy is a privilege). Most of y’all in this pile have the bra game crack and under control (I am jealous tell me all your secrets, NOW !), your tits always look the fuck good. They would love to stare at them and you letting them do so not thinking he's a creep or not risking his chance with you. Caressing your inner thigh and also maybe playing a bit with your panties does cross their mind. They never go further than that because they need to focus on the bigger picture which is a long term commitment with you.  At the end of the day, their passiveness depends on your energy. If you ever give them hint of wanting more (fuck me eyes, playing with your tits, nasty texting …), they will jump on the occasion. 

They also enjoy how strict you are and love it when you remind them that you are not the one to play with. The fact that you can drop them that easily is a turn on for them. They also imagine you, squirting all over them. Overstimulating you with their munch abilities and flipping you around on their dicks at night they cant their mind out the gutter. 

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PILE  2

Hey to my lesbian girlypop. How is your cherry doing ? I hope you had all the fun you wanted while I was gone, if not good news the fun is coming. 

Your next partner's sexual thoughts about you, that they would be afraid to admit is that they want you. I think this person presents themself as straight until they meet you and you set fire to their POV. You may actually never know this person is thinking about you that way and if you miss the clue, you are going to miss out on a beautiful opportunity for some good sex because they are pretty lowkey. I ain't going to lie no matter what, this is not going to transform into a full blown relationship. You may have a habit of falling in love with a good box so guard yourself. Don't worry, this person is a gentle soul. I see y’all being FWB. Everytime they are going to think about it in a sexual manner is going to shook them because that's not who they are. They never wanted and thought of playing in the rainbow before you. They will take extra time reminiscing about your tits and your natural curvy body. Most of y’all reading this have an hourglass body or pear body no matter slim or thick. Y’all going to have good sex after having an honest discussion regarding y’all desires and the way y’all want to deal with it. 

Her love language is physical touch. She might get extra affectionate with you because she loves the feel of your bust on her. Another hint, you may need to catch. Funny enough, she also has a habit of falling in love which is quicker than you. Idk the relationship may be chaotic not the toxic kind and the sex bomb. Maybe because it comes with forbidden feelings. Anyways the ball is in your court, you decide if you want to mess with that or keep going in your dry spell era. 

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PILE 3 

How are you doing queen ? It has been a whole month since I left and you are still bedrotting ? What happens with all your goals set in Jan 2025… huh ? No, don't go away, I'm not stepping on your neck (this time at least). I am not here for that TODAY. Today is all about love and good vibes and you deserve all that. Even when you think you don't …

Let's dive into it ! To begin with, your next partner is going to think you are porn star beautiful. Don't worry I was mad for you when I got that message. Me (yesterday) : WTF DO U MEAN PORNSTAR BEAUTY ! Are u sex addicts because I swear my babes deserve better than that … Until my spiritual team told me to calm my butt down. Your next partner is no sex addict and he dont think your makeup is cakey. What he tries to make me understand is you have every attribute to make any man fall on their knees yet you are too insecure. In his sexual dream regarding you, you are more confident. Your dominant planet may be Venus and you may have a stellium in Taurus because everything you do is so sexy and sensual. Some of y’all have a rising sign in Scorpio with all that I have mentioned, damm another day wishing I could see y’all gorgeous face. Your voice is sweet like honey but very sexually inviting. Like you can be reciting a grocery list and you would make these men have blue balls. He could be on facetime masturbating to you just doing your laundry. You have a natural pretty face, your mannerism is enchanting and your voice oulalala dont worry they will not. If in your future you are down for that, you don't have to ask them twice. Calling you is their bad habit. They love receiving voice memos from you. Also they think you are hiding some kind of sexual talent. Maybe you know how to ride it well or you give good head. They know you are uncomfortable when it comes to sex. Most of you, your ex took your spark away when it comes to being sexy (funny this is single since birth …). Or maybe somebody you thought you were in a relationship with the whole time he was cheating with you which took your confidence away and left you with nothing but guilt.They want to feel like a boss, they would probably daydream about taking charge in the bedroom. Not full blown dominatrix but telling them where you want them to put their hands. Where you want them to kiss. Holding their head down while their munching. Would love for you to express how good you make them feel and how it is only them making you feel that way. They LIVE for your validation and YOUR validation ONLY. For some it is someone from your past not the bad ex/situationship is actually somebody you have good moments with but you naturally drift away and you are going to reconnect again. Fucking them would be full of longing and euphoria. Is almost like fucking on the clouds, so dreamy and soft. They can sense a growth in you when they see again, that you may take for granted. When they left you were more of a people pleaser and when they are coming back you have an ease in displaying your boundaries which they are going to be so proud of you for changing. I keep hearing : babygirl & ‘’ I am so proud of you’’. Throughout all your relationship they are always going to celebrate your wins whether they are small or huge. 

This man is definitely a white one. There's a high chance he has blue eyes and blond hair. Also he walks around with a sex playlist … lol. 

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PILE 4

Hey my wild rides. I missed your chaos. Don't tell the other you are secretly my fav energy (y’all : I could have swear a couple post ago, you said gentle & delicate soul were your fav… me: No need to fight ladies, Shesca has enough love for all of you (no me entering my douchebag era)). Anyways what kind of mess did you create and left like it was not your fault while I was gone. Is ok, you right … How could it ever be your fault? 

That being said, let's go back to the business that pays me (shameless promo, go get a private reading !). Talking about shamelessness, you like big dicks. Don't try to hide the cards rat you out a long time ago. Since it is supposed to be for my single since birth, y’all may have a size kinks. Which shows me that your type may be tall muscles guys. You may have something for big biceps. You don't want them gym rat way but more nerds type way that still go to the gym and send you pictures after they are done. I know your pussy just did that crazy twirl, let's calm down lady. The next person you are going to deal with is going to be your dreams come true. They are going to want you to be hooked on them and to only have eyes for them. Honestly they may be quite stoic from the outside in even their sense of style is quite minimal ( just wanted to add that they smell extra good) but inside they are fucking golden retrivers. They would do anything for you to compliment them. They will put that work in the bedroom girl ! Just for you, the pillow princess to say it was good. Is like a reward for them. You guys will need to find a middle ground. That is what they think about because compared to them you are tiny. They can easily break, they are actually scared of hurting you. Or embarrassing you with a run at the emergency room because he decided to go to deep inside. He will have an Aries mars … shit. Big dig, size kink and Aries mars … don't worry I am already calling the police on your behalf. In their daydream regarding your naked body, they are not actually picturing you naked. They are pictureing y’all kissing, caressing each other's body and you asking for more and them telling you, he can't because he is scared of hurting you.  

That person is an amazing cuddler and loves cuddling. Do not joke around about cuddling time, it may be one of your couple's traditions. Maybe before bed is mandatory y’all cuddle. Y’all may also have a tradition of always showering together.  He is also very vocal in the bedroom, talks dirty, moans, grunts and may even beg …

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[randominchident]

from friends to this

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. max verstappen x reader ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

you've been friends with max for as long as you can remember, it takes a redbull engineer asking you out for both of you to realise you want more. (so much softness and longing)

alternative ending possessive version can be read here

You couldn’t remember the exact day you two had become friends. It was some day in middle school, you were sure of that. But the details had blurred over the years. It felt like you had always known each other.

Max had always been in your life.

You had always been in his.

Sitting in each other’s orbits just felt natural—though entirely platonic. That was the part others struggled to understand.

It was laughable the amount of times waiters had brought candles to your dinner table, 'for the mood', assuming the two of you were on a date. You'd stop correcting them after the third time it happened. Besides, it was fun to laugh about. To joke about how much you'd annoy each other if you really were a couple.

"You snore like a bear," you said, laughing over a glass of red wine, "I pity your future girlfriend."

"Doesn’t seem to bother you too much."

“For a free hotel room, I’ll put up with anything.”

He laughed.

After all these years of sporadically sharing hotel rooms, late night drives, unlimited paddock passesand crude jokes—you two had stayed simply good friends. He'd held you through bad break ups and you had held him through every DNF and every crash. You knew eachother like the back of your hand. Friends for life, that was what you always said.

Until things started to shift. Slowly. Subtly. So gently that neither of you really noticed.

It was Free Practice.

Rain had settled over the city days ago and showed no sign of stopping anytime soon. The paddock was chaos—engineers scrambling to keep tires warm, trainers trying to keep drivers from catching colds.

Max stood calm in the middle of it all. You watched him, helmet in hand, exchanging quiet words with GP. It was always a strange sort of magic, how he could look so at home in the storm—like it was made for him.

You smiled to yourself.

He’d be fine today. You knew it.

“So, how long have you been together?”

The voice broke you from your thoughts.

You blinked, turning to find Marcus—one of the newer engineers—looming beside your seat. Tall, a bit cocky, but charming in a way that probably worked for him.

“What?” you asked, unsure if you’d misheard.

“You and Max. Been together long?”

You snorted. “Oh. No. We aren’t together. Just friends, y’know?”

It wasn’t the first time someone has misunderstood your relationship with Max. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time someone from Red Bull had made the mistake. Marcus glanced back toward Max, then returned his gaze to you with a slow smirk.

“Damn. And here I thought I had no chance.” He grinned. “You free tonight? I’d love to take you for a drink.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. Your brain fumbled for an excuse, but none came fast enough.

“Sure,” you found yourself saying. “Why not.”

Barely a few minutes later, Max is by your side, throwing a tyre blanket over you to keep warm.

“It’d be unfortunate if you died of hypothermia before you saw me win on Sunday.”

“Yeah, what would you do without your only supporter cheering in the crowd?” You joked, burrowing into the blanket and sighing from the sudden warmth.

“I’d be lost without you,” he said, mock-solemnly. But there was a warmth in his voice that caught you slightly off-guard.

Max had told you to wear an extra jacket this morning. You had ignored him. He was pretty smug about it, but it didn’t stop him from trying to warm you up—even going as far as to offer his own jacket. As if he wasn't also standing out in the cold.

“Dinner tonight?” He asked, sipping on his water bottle and moving to sit beside you.

“Uh, I’ve got plans actually.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Plans? With who?”

“Marcus,” you answered, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. “He asked me out for a few drinks.”

“Oh.”

Max didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze flickered briefly to Marcus, cold and stiff, before returning to you. There was something unreadable in his expression.

“Well,” he said, his voice casual but slow, jaw tight and face still, “He seems… nice. I guess.”

You smiled slightly, though it didn’t feel true. You were unable to keep the small flicker of guilt from beating in your chest.

That night, as you found yourself in the dimly lit bar, nursing a glass of wine with Marcus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was... off. Not with Marcus, exactly. He was a decent guy—charming in that way that could probably win anyone over—but the whole time, you couldn’t stop thinking about Max.

Suddenly a text came through. You knew who it was before you even checked.

Going ok?

Marcus leaned over to see the message. He scoffed slightly, “I thought you weren’t together?”

“We aren’t.”

“Then why is he checking on you? Need his permission to go out?”

“Of course I don’t. He just…” you weren’t sure how to phrase it. “He just likes to know I’m ok.”

Another text came through, you angled your phone towards your chest so Marcus wouldn’t see:

I can pretend to be sick if you want to leave.

Then another:

I can see you reading these… is he that boring?

You laughed slightly and put your phone away.

It was ridiculous. You were here with someone else. Yet Max’s face kept slipping into your thoughts, his teasing smile, the way he always seemed to have your back without even trying. The way he cared so effortlessly. Always checking to make sure you were safe, you were happy.

When the evening ended and Marcus walked you back to your hotel, you could tell he wanted to kiss you. But a pit formed in your stomach at the thought of it. So you just smiled, thanked him for a nice night (not a great night, but a nice one) and quickly walked into your hotel room.

Being alone again was a breath of fresh air.

The next day, quali day, you found yourself wandering the paddock, watching the flurry of activity around you as everyone prepared. Max was in his element, once again, focusing completely on the task ahead. But when he saw you, that familiar, soft smile curved across his face.

“Survived last night?” he asked, walking over to you, his voice a mix of teasing and genuine concern.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the tiny smile that tugged at your lips.

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your mouth tugged upward despite your best effort. “Barely. I think I hit my lifetime quota of polite smiles. I can only listen to guys explain their workout routine for so long.”

Max let out a low laugh. “Sounds fucking borning.”

You bumped his arm with your elbow, the familiar rhythm of your banter helping smooth the awkward edge that had hung in the air since last night. “Maybe I just have high standards.”

He tilted his head, eyes steady on yours. “Maybe you just went out with the wrong guy.”

The words hit you in the chest harder than you expected. You opened your mouth—half to laugh it off, half to challenge it—but nothing came out.

Max seemed to catch himself, blinking once, then glancing toward the garages like he hadn’t said anything at all. “Anyway,” he said, softer now, “Glad you survived.”

“I always do,” you replied, your voice not quite as light as you meant it to be.

Another pause. A quieter one.

Then he asked, “Did he try anything?”

You looked up at him, surprised by the question—not because he asked, but because of the way he asked. Not teasing. Not brotherly. Just… careful. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“No,” you said. “It wasn’t like that. I don’t think I wanted it to be.”

Max nodded once, but didn’t say anything. His jaw ticked slightly. You noticed.

Before you could decide what it meant, one of the Red Bull crew called his name from across the paddock, breaking the moment in two.

He started to walk off, then hesitated. “You’ll be watching?”

“You even have to ask?”

He smiled at that, something warmer than victory flickering in his expression.

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there with a hundred unsaid things heavy on your tongue.

Max dragged the car to pole, of course.

By the time the final times were locked in, your voice was hoarse from cheering and your heart felt like it had been running laps alongside him. You waited until the press was done pulling him in every direction before slipping backstage near the motorhome.

He spotted you instantly, eyes lighting up under the brim of his cap. “There she is.”

You didn’t hesitate. You threw your arms around his neck and held tight, letting him feel the full weight of how proud you were. “You killed it out there.”

He laughed into your shoulder. “You think?”

“I know.”

When you pulled back, his hands lingered at your waist, grounding you. The smile on his face softened as his gaze dipped lower, hovering somewhere near your mouth.

You swallowed. He didn’t say anything else—just gave your hip the lightest squeeze. You thought he would step back, like he always did after a celebratory hug. But instead he stayed there. His eyes remained locked on yours.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.” His eyes flicked to someone behind you, then back to you.

“Nothing,” Max repeated, but there was a flicker of something in his voice. Something restrained. “Just… you’re here. That’s all.”

You huffed out a small laugh, though your heartbeat was climbing at a concerning rate. “Where else would I be?”

He didn’t answer that. Didn’t need to. You both knew where he was thinking of—across a bar table from a different guy, smiling politely, checking your phone too often.

Someone called Max’s name again—sharper this time. He blinked, like surfacing from deep water, then slowly stepped back. His hands dropped from your waist. You tried not to feel the loss of warmth too acutely.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, already backing away.

You nodded, watching him go. The moment, so suddenly, over. The warmth of his hands on your hips lingering after he had gone.

Later that night, you found yourself standing in the hallway outside Max’s hotel room, quietly debating whether or not to knock. He had texted earlier—Movie? My room? Just us?—like it was the most casual thing in the world.

But it didn’t feel casual.

Not anymore.

You knocked.

The door opened almost instantly. He must’ve been waiting.

He stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, barefoot, hair still slightly damp from a shower. Your gaze dropped instinctively to the nape of his neck, the clean skin of his collarbone and familiar freckles.

He stepped aside without saying a word, and you moved past him into the room.

It was quiet inside, dim and warm. The curtains were drawn, a movie already paused on the screen—some familiar, ridiculous action flick with explosions every other minute. You smiled.

“Got snacks,” Max said, moving to the side table. “But no wine. Sorry.”

“Guess I’ll survive,” you said softly, taking off your jacket.

He sat on the bed, remote in one hand, and gave you a small smile that was all shyness and something a little deeper. “You coming?”

You joined him, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched.

The movie played.

You tried to focus, really, you did. But the warmth of his leg against yours, the way his fingers occasionally brushed the comforter close to your hand—it was pulling all your attention away from the screen.

And then it happened. Slowly. Like everything else with him.

Your head dropped to his shoulder.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just let you stay there. Like he’d been waiting for it to happen. Hoping it would. You felt, more than heard, the breath he released. It ghosted across your hairline.

“I missed you last night,” he said, barely a whisper.

Your heart stuttered. “You knew where I was.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You turned your head to look up at him. He was already looking down at you.

A beat of silence stretched between you. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure he was allowed to.

So you reached first.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging him a little closer.

“I saw you walking back with him last night,” Max went on, his voice rougher now. “And all I could think about was how he got to be the one beside you. Even if it was nothing. Even if it didn’t mean anything. I hated it.”

The silence stretched out.

“I didn’t kiss Marcus,” you said, “because I couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel if it were you.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering down to your mouth. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

“I do.”

Another breath. Then, finally, his hand rose to your cheek—tentative at first, almost reverent. Like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch you this way. His thumb traced just below your cheekbone, and his eyes were full of something deep and aching.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t sudden. It was slow. Careful. Like he’d been dreaming about it for so long he didn’t want to get it wrong. His lips moved against yours with a kind of quiet desperation, like he was pouring years of longing into the space between you.

You melted into him instantly.

And when you finally pulled back, breathless and heart thundering, Max rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.

“I’ve wanted that for so long,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back, smiling. “Me too.”

He opened his eyes, and they were softer now. Unshielded. “Please tell me this isn’t just for tonight”

“It’s not,” you said. You knew then, as you think you knew years ago, that this was it for you. Max was always where you were meant to end up.

hope you enjoyed <3 i've never written this trope before so apologise if it dragged a bit! as always requests are open!

[lovableapocalypse]

scar tissue

dr. jack abbot x female!resident!reader

wc: 2k

summary: an unexpected patient arrives in the er and turmoil arises

warnings: medical inaccuracies, mentions of injuries and medical procedures, mentions of alcohol abuse aka reader has a shitty alcoholic dad who yells, mentions of brief sexual content but nothing explicit (mdni!), power dynamic in relationship/reader is a 3rd year resident jack is an attending, unspecified age gap, wrote this at 4am

a/n: this is soooo inspired by greys specifically the scenes where meredith's mom is a patient at sgh and then the mark and lexie (deleted?) scene of them after the shooting. i struggled a lot with the ending of this one so sorry if it sucks lol. hope you like and enjoy and thank you guys for all the love

Tonight’s shift hadn’t been too wild, but you would never risk speaking the words aloud. Jinxing the remaining 3 hours would only ruin the night you’d had so far. 

A few random cases had come through and one drunk driver who was already stable and moved up to the ICU. One of the more chill night shifts you’d had in a while. 

Glancing up from your seat at the nurse’s station, you watch him move from South 15 to the curtain over- checking on patients. 

Your cheeks heat unprofessionally and unintentionally at the sight of him. A habit you needed to kick soon for you worked with the man 4 nights a week. That, and your flustered appearance was becoming more obvious than you’d realized. 

Dr. Abbot has been your attending for over 2 years now. Starting as an intern on an emergency med rotation and thrown to the night shift due to scheduling conflicts- you found yourself working closely under the army vet. 

His dynamic teaching and advantageous reassurance drew you to the emergency department. Deadset on surgery, you completely pivoted after working with the doctor. Declaring your specialty, you were now well into your third year of residency in the pit. 

You felt confident when you worked under Abbot. He gave you the room to make decisions and he trusted your opinions- only stepping in to assist during especially challenging moments. 

He glanced at you as his eyes passed over the board above your head. You shifted your gaze away, crumbling under the slightest look from him. 

This was new. This nervousness. You had always thought Abbot was attractive, harboring a small crush, but he was your superior and that was a boundary you would never feel comfortable crossing. 

Or so you thought. 

It happened 11 days ago. Not that you were counting. 

Your shifts had aligned that week to where you had three days off in a row, a rare occurrence. 

Since residency had put your social life on the back burner you took the opportunity to call up a couple of friends and go out.

By some means of the universe, you had ended up at the same bar as Jack that night. How you ended up in the back of his car was a blur. Skirt bunched around your waist, hips thrusting roughly into yours, hands pulling and grasping at anything they could touch, his mouth whispering dirty words and kissing soft desperate kisses against your skin. 

It was the heat of the moment. That’s what you kept telling yourself. It was a one-time thing. A mistake that wouldn’t happen again. Despite how much you secretly wanted it to. 

So you glanced away. You kept it professional. You avoided him like the plague and spent as little time as you could in his presence.  

You even traded a day shift with McKay to get a night away from him. You didn’t feel guilty or ashamed, you just didn’t want Jack to treat you differently. To see you differently. 

The calm of the ED was short-lived as the charge nurse shouted out, “Incoming ped versus vehicle. 3 minutes.”

You stood from the desk and Jack stepped out of the room he was in. You reached for gloves and moved much slower than you should’ve. 

The ambulance doors opened in a rush and the paramedics pushed in the patient on a stretcher. You were focused on snapping on your gloves. One tore as you pulled it on and you cursed under your breath, reaching for another. You listened to the paramedics as you grabbed a new one. 

“Male. 64. Was hit by a driver. Multiple femoral fractures and a blood alcohol level higher than I’ve ever seen.” The paramedic huffed and the patient slurred aggressively in response. 

You glanced up, approaching the stretcher, and your heart fell out of your chest. Your throat closed up on instinct. The patient was spewing nonsense but his demeanor was obvious. He was angry and drunk. And he was your father. 

Abbot calls out your last name, voice sharper than normal as he motions for your frozen self to come help. To do your job.

You don’t move. Your heart races uncomfortably. You hadn’t seen your dad in a few weeks. He was a drunk who had treated you like the biggest regret of his life from as far back as you could remember. 

You avoided him and only checked in on him every once and a while. Mostly to see if he was still alive. 

Even in his drunken state, your father recognized the last name Jack had spoken. The one you shared with him. 

Your father stopped squirming enough to glance up, directly at you. 

“Look who it is.” His sneer was exaggerated and he threw his head back on the gurney. 

Abbot’s brows furrowed and he looked between the man and you. 

“You know this guy?” He spoke as they moved the gurney to the trauma bay. 

The nurses tried to ask for his name and information but your father was shouting nonsense- mostly about giving him drugs to stop the pain. 

You swallow harshly and follow into Trauma 2. 

You feel like you’re in a daze. Watching your worst childhood memories clash with reality. 

“Y/n. I need your help here.” Jack snaps. 

They’re already working. Moving your dad to the bed, cutting his clothes. And you’re useless. Watching and trying not to break down.

Your dad shouts and you flinch involuntarily. He yells at the nurse for morphine. Jack is frustrated at your lack of help, but more so concerned about your behavior. 

Your dad’s head snaps up and he glares right at you. “I’m talking to you! Give me something for the fucking pain-” His words are a jumble, but you understand him loud and clear. 

“Sir-” The nurse starts and your dad shouts over her. 

He keeps his head up, his gaze and words directed at you. 

“Do you know him?” Abbot repeats his question from earlier, harsher this time as he works over the chaos. 

Your dad answers for you unintentionally, shouting your name, “Give me something, here. I’m your father for fuck’s sake!”

The room falls quiet for a beat and your stomach twists. 

“This is your dad?” Abbot’s eyebrows meet his forehead. 

“Is he an addict?” The nurse asks you. 

“Only alcohol. That I know of.” Your voice is a whisper. 

Abbot sighs harshly and the nurse moves to give your dad a stronger painkiller. 

“Right, get her out of here and send in Ellis, please.” Jack nods to another nurse. 

She grips your arm softly and you watch as your father finally stops shouting and lays his head back in a morphine-induced haze.

The nurse squeezes your arm and sits you in a chair before rushing off to get the other resident. 

You watch numbly as Ellis goes into the bay. You don’t know how long you stare at the wall for, your mind seeming to shut off. 

You hear Shen’s voice behind you and it sounds like he’s asking you a question but you’re not registering anything. 

Your stomach lurches violently and you stand, walking to the ambulance bay doors. 

They slide open and Shen calls out to you. 

You stagger to the bushes and the contents of your stomach come up. 

You cough and wipe your mouth, catching your breath. 

You grip the wall, needing something to stabilize your influx of emotions. 

His voice comes from behind you after a moment. 

“You okay?”

You turn to him and nod. 

He stands across the bay, hands on his hips. He’s unconvinced. 

He approaches you carefully, like a wounded animal, and you hate it. 

“I’m fine. I just need a minute.” You call back. 

You turn away from him and run a hand over your hair, gasping for a breath. 

His hand finds your elbow in a gentle grip and you glance his way. He doesn’t say anything. He just grabs your arm and slowly moves you to the curb outside the building. 

He sits you down and moves beside you, his knee brushing yours. 

Your eyes well up despite your best efforts. Your breath wracks and your head sags. 

You wipe at your tears as they begin to fall and try to hide your face in your shoulder. You feel his arm come around you, wrapping you in warmth. 

“You’re okay.” His voice is so steady and reassuring that you almost believe him. 

You nod, but the tears keep falling. 

“I’m sorry.”

You feel his head shake beside you. “Don’t apologize.”

Tears stream down your face and his arm squeezes you closer. You let your head fall to his shoulder and let his comfort consume you. 

Processing what just happened, you let Abbot ease your emotional toll. You feel his lips brush your hairline and your eyes squeeze shut. 

Sniffling, you sit upright again. Abbot’s hand stays on you, sliding down to rest on your back. 

“I didn’t know what to do. Or why I reacted like that. I didn’t- I wasn’t expecting to see him. Not here.” You wipe a stray tear away as you try to explain yourself. 

“From what I witnessed, your reaction tells me there’s a whole other story to your relationship with that man. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You’re a good doctor, but everyone has their limits. Things that hit close to home- or things that come from home.”

He sends you a sympathetic look and you nod at his words.

“I can’t have my best resident freezing up again. Or avoiding me. Which I know you’re doing by the way.” He raises a knowing brow.

The sigh that escapes you is full of embarrassment and nerves. 

“I don’t want to talk about it-”

“About the fact that we slept together or that your dad is an abusive drunk?”

“Jack.” 

“Either topic is up for debate.” His lips rise slightly and you can’t help but shake your head at his persistence. 

“I want to forget it ever happened. All of it.”

It’s silent for a moment and at his lack of response you turn your head to look at him. 

His words are quiet, “If that’s really what you want, I’ll never bring it up again. But if it’s not, I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care deeply for you. In a way that I definitely shouldn’t.”

His words are a punch to the gut. A reality check.

“You do?”

He nods, “Have for a while now.” 

He reaches up to brush a rouge hair off your forehead and you lean into the touch. 

“I do too. I care about you.”

His smile is small, “I figured.”

“Was it that obvious?” You cringe. 

He shakes his head, “You’re just easy to read sometimes.”

“It’s inappropriate. Us.” You state the obvious, though you know the words are a useless feat. 

“Very.” Jack huffs a laugh.

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. 

After a moment you speak up again, “Is my dad okay?”

“He will be. He needs surgery, but he’ll live.”

You nod. 

Jack runs his hand up your back, his lips meeting your head. He stands slowly, reaching down to grasp your hand. He pulls you to your feet gently. 

“You don’t have to see him, but if you want to I can go with you.”

“Thank you.”

He nods and starts back towards the automatic doors. 

“Jack.” You call. 

He turns, eyebrows raised in question. 

You step closer to him and repeat the sentiment. 

“I’ll look after you.” He squeezes your hand and moves back inside. 

He drives you home that night. And many more nights after that. Your dynamic changes. While still supportive and professional, it’s deeper and fervent- your relationship building a whole new layer of trust. You loved him and it was easy. No more glancing away or avoidant behaviors. You let Jack into every aspect of your life and he cherished it- nurtured it. 

He was everything you needed and more. You accepted each other in whole, scar tissue and all. 

[ur-fav-slushy]

hamzah nsfw headcannons

mdni. 18+ only

warnings: smut, p-in-v, pet names, slight sub/dom dynamic, overstimulation, !afab reader

my thoughts and feelings on my favourite big boy;

-he’s a switch

depends on the day but leans more into a sub role and on the random chance hes feeling dominant its PLEASURE DOM CITY BABYYYYYY!!! call him a good boy and hes leaking all over your hand but call him sir and you're without a doubt cumming all over his face. some mornings he wakes up more clingy and itching for your gentle touch, other days he needs someone to put him in his place and then those special days where he needs to put you in YOUR place or just make you cum until you're crying.

"yes-oh fuck...just like that ple-" he covers his mouth with his right hand before he finishes his sentence. reluctantly you stop moving your hips against his and look down at him. he looks ruined. his breathing is rapid and the sweat makes his little blonde curls stick to his forehead. eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed together like he's praying.

he is praying. praying for you to let him cum. again.

"don't cover your mouth." you command.

he whines and throws his head back against the pillow.

you've been riding him for over an hour straight. half way through you collapsed on to his chest after your 3rd orgasm and his second, it looked like you tired yourself out so much you were knocked cold so he also started to doze off while softly running his hands along your hips and thighs.

a few moments later he suddenly felt you place your palms against his hard stomach to help lift yourself up straight. his eyes are hooded as he looks up at you, giving him the sweetest smile you can before lifting your hips so just his tip is inside of you.

you wait there for a second just admiring how handsome he looks under you, he smiles back up at you. you slam back down on to his cock in one quick movement, going straight into a good rhythm.

now here he is 45 minutes later, tears brimming at his eyes and hands gripping your waist begging you to keep moving. he will do anything to keep you bouncing on his cock no matter how spent he is.

-he’s VOCAL

sub hamzah; hamzah is a WHINERRRR. case closed. he whines all day all night. when things first start getting hot and heavy all hes letting out are heavy breaths and small groans but the moment he sinks into you oh it's so over like hes just a whiny hot mess and you live for it.

pleasure dom hamzah; king of talking you THROUGH IT. praise after praise just making you wetter and more in love. he still moans and groans but when he's got you on your nth orgasm of the night and youre crying big fat tears from the overstimulation, he starts whining and crying like he usually does but that bastards still gonna be in full control. the range this man has.

and him switching between the both would look like this:

"fuck, i'm s-sorry baby. too much s'all too much." he groans as his hands trail up to the sides of your waist. "do you want me to keep goin-" "yes. fuck yes please. pleaseee." his whines interrupt you mid question.

he is so desperate he uses his strength to his advantage and just starts to lift you up by your waist to slide you up and down his cock at his own set pace, he keeps this brutal pace going by planting his feet flat on the bed to be able to reach that special little spot you know only he can reach.

"so beautiful, oh my god you are so beautiful, sweetheart."

uh-oh.

he only calls you sweetheart when he's pussy-drunk, and when hamzah's pussy-drunk you know you're not in control of your own pleasure anymore.

"you're so tight, fuck does it feel good? i just wanna make you feel good, sweetheart." he moans out. without stopping his movements he grabs your hands and places them on his shoulder, he then leads your face to his and you fall into a messy kiss with moans and whimpers falling into each others mouths.

hamzah's hands move back to your waist to keep you still against his cock. you whine loudly in protest. "be a good boy and fuck me. fuck me hard." you say in a breathy whisper against his lips.

mimicking your earlier move his hands grip your waist before sliding you up his cock so that just his tip is splitting you open. he smiles up at you sweetly before fucking up into you at a merciless pace.

-hes a a giver hunny

hamzah will eat it, spank it, spit on it and kiss it better before he realizes he hasn't even taken his boxers off yet. sub and dom hamzah will always prioritize your pleasure over anything else, if u want to ride his face till the sun comes up then by all means please take a seat. say you had a bad day and need to be fucked dumb then please contact your go to big boy and he will humbly accept your request.

you pathetically squeak every time his cock bottoms out, your hands grip on to his broad shoulders for dear life while he just keeps babbling out more non-sense than you.

"fuck you feel like h-heaven, sweetheart. just keep arching for me-" his lips are right against your cheek as he kisses the praises right into your temple.

"fuuuuck, right fucking there. i'm right here, aren't i sweetheart?" one of his hands presses into your belly where you can feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix. it hurts so good.

his other hand takes the pillow he's laying on and slams it on to the bed next to you and before you can register it he has you both flipped over, you feel the pillow under your lower back as he adjusts himself between your legs.

his arms slide under your legs and he lifts them over his hips as he sits up on his knees, his cock still deep in your stomach. he presses a sweet kiss to your lips before fucking straight into that gummy spot that has you dumb on his cock.

a whimper tears itself from your throat each time the back of your thighs slam against his pelvis. he's starring down at where you're connected and moans at how pretty you look wrapped around him.

"i want you to cum for me. please cum all over my cock. please, sweetheart. ohmygodohmygod keep doing that, fuck babyyy" his praises have you tightening around him which leaves him a whimpering mess.

his thumb presses against your clit, your hand grabs his wrist to stop him.

"i dont wanna make a mess." you say in between sobs.

"i want you to make a mess." he commands while his eyes are glued to the sight of his thumb rubbing against your sensitive bud. his pace doesn't let up, he wants you to feel how much he loves you. he wants you to cream around his cock.

your eyelashes fan those pretty little tears of yours across the apples of your cheeks as he moves his head down closer to yours to capture your lips in another messy kiss. his tongue is moving against yours with his hands moving to your back to arch you off the bed, this angle has your hands pulling at his curls and crying his name out in a way that sends chills down his spine.

"im so close. so fucking close. wan' u to cum with me, sweetheart." he pleads against your lips, you start nodding your head rapidly but that's not the answer he wants. he moves lips to ghost over the shell of your ear. he wants to make sure he gets the answer he needs.

"c'mon sweetie, be a good girl for me and make a mess on my cock." his voice is so low and sexy and you could cum to just that but...he still knows his place.

"nghh please, sweetie." he pathetically chokes out.

that last plea that leaves his gorgeous lips pushes you over the edge, hamzah's cock spilling his hot seed inside of you with a broken moan of your name. your pussy making a big creamy mess around the base of his cock.

his hips slow their pace before he stills and collapses on top of you, still inside.

"horny freak." he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

"sorry. i saw an edit of you."

thank u for reading. it's 2am. gonna take a cold shower now.

request/ask anything<3

xoxo, ur fav slushy:3

[just-for-kitsch]

I’m feeling sentimental, so I’ll talk about my wife.

It wasn’t love at first sight. It was a quiet interest. We were both well-known within our mutual sphere, but we didn’t talk until later. She came across as very morally righteous, and I was… not. But if anything, that drew us towards each other. Her views on life were so different from mine, and I could tell there was somebody beneath there. Somebody beneath the superficial sweetness and passiveness she displayed—someone serious, severe, and very, very interesting.

So we talked. We talked and we became friends, and it was so, so silly in retrospect. We would go to the same places and pretend we had met by coincidence when we both knew damn well we were waiting to see the other. I did not love her then, but I cared for her more than I had ever cared for anybody else. We made mutual friends, but none of them ever struck me the way she did.

Of course, it crashed and burned. It crashed and burned because one of our mutual friends and her no longer got along, and I took their side instead of hers. We tried to make it work in spite of that. But she realized too much of her self-image depended on the way I saw her, so she asked for us to separate. And even if it hurt, I did—I didn’t have the right to limit her.

So we didn’t talk.

I found some people in the meanwhile. And so had she. We had spoken sparsely during our separation—cordial with zero resentment, but it was flat. Quiet. Stilted. I focused on my work, but one day by chance, we met again. Reminisced. Just a little. And then a little became more.

I was different. She was different. Some of the people I’d found were… less than savory, and the same could be said for her. We both changed to the point we were practically unrecognizable from who we used to be. From who we both were when we first met.

Yet despite that… it was so easy to talk to her. It was like I had been sleeping for years, but I was awake in her presence. Like the entire world clicked back into place as if it had never been separated to begin with. It’s funny, I think—I think our separation made us closer. Made us more willing to confront the bad and work through it. And one day, I realized I loved her. It wasn’t big. Wasn’t dramatic. We were talking as per usual, and I thought, I’d like to do this forever. I realized that I meant it, and that was when I knew I loved her.

There’s a lot more to this story. A lot more underneath the surface that has to do with facades and confusing relationships to the outside eye. Reciprocation, or rather, the lack of it. How once upon a time she loved me more than I loved her, and then I loved her more than she loved me. How we changed during our separation, and how we stayed the same. How insincere with both used to be, but now how vulnerable we both are with each other. How she was the first person I loved—ever. How she changed my life.

There’s a lot more that might not make sense to other people. The fact that I’m aroace. The fact that she has a girlfriend. The fact that we’re inseparable halves even with that.

There’s a lot more that isn’t nearly as cute or as embellished as the rest of this story was made out to be. The anger I felt when we separated as if I’d been abandoned. The betrayal she felt when I took another’s side over hers. The, lightly put, obsession we both have for each other. The way we’ve seen each other at our worst. The way we’ve had to deal with each other at our worst. The way separating us will make us both spiral—the fact we aren’t just codependent, but practically are sewn together.

But I love her, and she loves me. So I don’t think it needs to make sense, and I don’t think it needs to be palatable or cute. It isn’t, not really. But it doesn’t need to be. I’m glad I didn’t let her go. Funny to say is that, now, I don’t think she’d allow me to go if I tried to run.

It’s a good thing that it’s mutual.

New York Times, The One Who Got Away

[allyeilishh]

ᥫ᭡ SURPRISE ── .✦ B.E.

Pairing: Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: with the "Hit Me Hard and Soft" Tour, Billie and you haven’t had much time to talk, less than see each other. But as she went to Sydney—the place both of you wanted to visit—so did you.

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: guys I’m so excited for this I think it’s realllly good and ur gonna love it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

The house was quiet, just like it had been for the past few months. The soft glow of the fireplace illuminated the room, the soft glow of candles on top of the mantel, making the room smell like vanilla. But there was that emptiness of the room, even when everything was so full, there still was that emptiness hanging above your head.

Billie had been on tour for a few months, and it had been keeping her really busy, along with her exploring the places she went to before she performed. It gave her little time to communicate with you, no matter how much she wanted to. Of course, you wanted her to explore where she went, but the silence from her left a pit of sorrow in your chest.

And now, you were sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a fluffy blue blanket that engulfed your frame. The TV was playing some reality show that you weren’t focusing on. Your mind was on Billie and what she was doing. She was probably roaming the streets of Brisbane, probably at the zoo looking at all the different animals they had to offer.

Your thoughts were quickly snapped out of when your phone began to ring beside you. Your arms wiggled out of the blanket, reaching over for your phone. And when you saw the caller ID, your heart leaped in excitement. You quickly clicked the green 'join' button, a smile on your face as the call connected. Billie’s face instantly popped up, and she was smiling widely, almost as much as you.

"Hi baby,“ you said softly, excitement hinting in your voice. "I missed you. What are you doing?“

Billie chuckled softly, "Hi, my love. I missed you more. I always miss you.“ She spoke in a gentle tone, almost as if she was trying to soothe a crying baby. "I’m not doing anything at the moment, just laying in the hotel. I wanted to talk to you.“

Your heart fluttered at her words, your cheeks turning a light pink hue. Your lips curled up into a wider smile, your cheekbones beginning to hurt. "I wanted to talk to you too.“ You said a little quietly, your voice soft and soothing. "How’s the tour going?“

"It’s been going pretty good, I love seeing all the faces. They’re all so sweet. I love all of them." Billie said gently, shifting on the bed she was laying in. "But I always love you more. You should know that.“

You smiled, pulling the blanket higher up your body, stopping just under your chin. "I love you too.“ you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Before Billie could respond, Maggie’s voice rang through the room, calling out for Billie, saying something incoherently. Before you knew it, Billie was saying sorry, quickly saying another 'I love you‘ before hanging up. Your smile slowly faded, your bottom lip disappearing under your teeth.

You put your phone down, wrapping yourself into the blanket more. It was always like this. She would call for a few minutes, then something would pop up, and she would have to go. It felt like the tour was ruining every moment they tried to have with each other. It made your heart ache each time, feeling like a stab to the heart.

But then, a idea sprang into your head. Probably was a little stupid, but it was a idea you wanted to pull through with anyways. Her next show was in Syndey, Australia. And you were going to go.

It might’ve been super last minute, and costed a lot—even though most of your money was Billie’s (she didn’t want you to spend your own money)—it still felt like a pound of money you were handing off. But it was definitely worth it.

You gently knocked on the hotel door, the small, warm lamps between every other door lighting the hallway. The carpet below your feet had a nice, blue and tan design to it, little waves of white contrasting the colors well. The hotel was pretty fancy, and considering the room was on the 14th floor, Alanna knew that Billie was staying in Deluxe suite, most likely to hide from crazy fans hunting her down.

You had just landed in Sydney—your suitcase handle still in your hand, resting next to you—and you had instantly went to Billie’s hotel. She was supposed to be out with her band, supposedly going out to dinner with them. Giving you the perfect opportunity to surprise your girlfriend.

You informed Maggie that you were coming, but begged her to not tell Billie. You wanted this to stay a secret until everything was perfect for you two.

You held a bouquet of flowers in your hands, a mix of roses, Lillies, tulips, and carnations. It was a pretty mix of white and light pink and red, along with the green leaves and stems. The bouquet was wrapped in a pretty, light pink wrapped around the flowers, a ribboned bow tying them together.

Maggie opened the door, a wide smile crossing her face. Her face wrinkled gently, her teeth showing through her smile as they always did. "Hi, sweetheart! Come on, come in!“ Maggie said, her voice hinting with excitement. Maggie was like a second mother to you, so seeing you again served her to feel a pit of joy.

You let out a little chuckle, stepping into the hotel room, dragging your suitcase behind you. You leaned the suitcase next to the door, before quickly enveloping Maggie into a hug. The tour had definitely separated the two of you, especially sense even you and Billie barely spoke sense it started. And having your second mother holding you again felt like there was a piece going through your veins.

"God, it’s so good to see you again!“ Maggie said as she pulled away, closing the door before walking further into the room with you. There was a sliding frosted glass door leading to the bathroom on the left, and on the right was closests, and a small snack bar.

"It’s good to see you too, Mags.“ You said with a small laugh, feeling her pull you to the couch. You sat down next to Maggie, letting out a small sigh as you slipped off your shoes, placing them together, next to the couch. You placed the flowers down on the coffee table carefully, making sure they didn’t get smushed.

"So, Billie will be coming back in about two hours, so you have some time to take a shower, get all pretty and set up.“ Maggie’s said, a smile on her face. You had told Maggie you were planning on surprising Billie, and Maggie told you when Billie would be away today. And you felt like your heart was racing miles in a second with excitement, a wide smile crossing your lips.

"Thank you, Maggie." You said, your voice gentle and soothing. You didn’t know what you would do without her. She was a absolute angel that you wouldn’t be able to live without.

The room was now dark, only a few candles and lighting up the room. You were standing in the middle of the room, holding the bouquet of flowers in your hands. You had a long, ankle-length white skirt on, a white eyelet square neck top, a little bow tying it at the middle of the neckline. Your hair was perfectly straightened, which you had done about ten times, just to make sure your hair didn’t have a singular wave.

You had mascara fanned out on your eyelashes, your skin smoothed out with your foundation and concealer. You didn’t need blush—the redness fanning your face from complete nervousness you were feeling. Your hands were shaking, making the flowers rattle a little bit. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment.

Billie was going to be coming into the hotel in mere seconds, and everything felt so overwhelming, yet excited. A nervous smile was plastered on your face, your teeth shining a bright white shining against your pink lipgloss. You could feel nervous beads of sweat forming on your forehead, but you quickly wiped it, making sure not to smudge your makeup.

You were so excited to see Billie, but you had no idea how she would react to you suddenly showing up. Would she be happy? Indifferent? You didn’t know. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing a little shaky. It was almost 10 PM, and you were a little tired. You almost never stayed up this late, but to see Billie, it was definitely worth it.

You heard the little beep of the card to the hotel door, signaling Billie was finally coming in. You instantly straightened up your back, taking a big deep breath. The door opened, the hallway light shining through the room. And there she was. Her normal jorts going down to her knees, and a football jersey engulfing her body. A tie around her neck, hanging loosely. Her normal jewelry was on, her stacked necklaces and silver rings complementing her entire outfit. She looked so damn pretty—like she always did.

She stopped when she saw you, freezing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, her mouth falling open. She stayed like that for a moment, almost dropping her keychain in her hand. You were there, really there, standing in her hotel room. And holding a bouquet of flowers, which was shaking a bit. But before long, a big, wide smile spread across her face, and she let go of the door knob, letting the door close and click into place. She spoke in complete shock and happiness, "oh my god, baby!!“

Before you got much time to react, she was running towards you, keychain completely forgotten about, and she practically jumped into your arms. You moved the flowers just in time so they wouldn’t get flattened, and you held Billie so close, not even a piece of paper could slip between you two. There was a excited giggle that escaped Billie’s mouth, her face burying into your neck.

"Hi, my love.“ You spoke softly, your one hand going to the back of her head, gently scratching her scalp with your nails. She felt so warm, her warm breath against your neck was soothing. Your eyes flickered closed for a moment, basking in the warmth of the moment. The world shut off around them, and it was suddenly only them. The loud city around them was suddenly quiet, and there was nothing but them.

Billie gently pulled away from you, her eyes locking onto yours. Her bright blue eyes boaring into yours, soft and loving. She spoke a little frantically, needing you to understand her, "My god, I’m so sorry I couldn’t call you as much, I wish I could, everything was just so much with all the tours and everything I went out to see—"

"Sh sh shh, it’s okay. I understand, my love. It’s okay." You said softly, your hand reaching up to rest on her cheek. You gently rubbed her soft, smoothe skin with your thumb, a gentle, understanding smile crossing your face. You understood. You always did.

Billie leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering close for a second. The soft touch of your hand instantly soothed her worried mind, letting out a soft breath. Her heart rate went down, and she felt the most content she had in months.

You gently put the flowers in between you two, lifting it just above her nose. She recoiled a bit, but she quickly let out a giggle, smelling the nice scent the flowers held close to her nose. She gently took it from your hands, her smile widening as she gently touched the delicate petals of each flower, her touch feather light. "They’re so beautiful. Thank you, baby.“

"Of course, my love.“ you said.

She gently placed them on the dresser, right next to the TV. She then gently took your hands, pulling you closer. She tilted her head to the side, a small smile curling at the corners of her lips. Then, she leaned closer, her arms hooking around yours neck. She leaned closer and closer, until her lips were on yours in a soft, loving kiss. You instantly responded, kissing her just as gently, your thumb continuing to rub her soft skin.

When you both pulled away, you both were a little breathless, but smiles instantly appeared on both of your lips.

"You are the best surprise I could ever ask for.“ Billie said softly, her voice no louder than a whisper.

"Your the best person I could ever give a surprise to.“ you said softly, gently moving some hair away from her pretty face.

"We should definitely go to the Opera house together.“ Billie said, her smile widening. You chuckled, nodding along with her words. ⋆. 𐙚 ̊

a/n: two and a half days and it’s FINALLY done 🙂‍↕️

[kxsagi]

i am back with another request >:3

how would the bllk men try and comfort reader when they tell her that they hate her as a joke but reader believes it because she thinks she’s very easy to hate and no one really likes her. so being in a relationship with them is surprising. can you include the itoshi brothers, kaiser, ness and whoever else you want pls 🙏🏾 tyty

“𝐢'𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰”

a/n: daily reminders that my fine shyt readers are absolutely lovable and worthy of all of the love in the world + more

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael, ness alexis, mikage reo, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

itoshi rin

he says it with a deadpan tone during a teasing moment, like when you steal his fries or call him a loser for using google maps. 

“ugh. i hate you.” it’s dry, automatic, and you laugh, or so he thinks. 

but then he sees the flicker in your eyes. the way your posture drops just slightly. 

“.. .oh,” he blurts, realizing too late. 

rin’s not good with panic, so he short-circuits at first. it’s in his nature to brood and analyze, but now he’s scrambling to fix it. 

“wait, wait no. i don’t hate you. are you serious?” he pulls you close, gripping your waist like he’s grounding both of you. 

he’s quiet, sincere. “i don’t say things i don’t mean. i would never say i hated you if i meant it. you know that, right?” 

when you tell him you’re just surprised anyone could love you, rin’s face changes. 

“... what the hell are you talking about?” his voice cracks, barely above a whisper. “how could you think you’re hard to love? you’re the best thing in my entire life.” 

he doesn’t leave your side the whole day. hand in yours. lips on your forehead. he needs you to feel how much he doesn’t hate you and how much he can’t. 

itoshi sae

he says “i hate you” with a half-smirk when you win a bet or outsmart him. something casual, barely a breath. 

you laugh it off, but he notices you retreat, go quiet. 

he’s not slow, sae’s emotionally perceptive under all that apathy. 

“... you know i didn’t mean that, right?” he asks, eyes flicking to you while he’s scrolling on his phone. 

you brush it off, but he puts the phone down. “look at me.” 

his tone is even, but his eyes are gentle. “you think i’m the type to date someone i don’t actually care about?” 

when you admit it’s just hard to believe someone like him could love someone like you, sae physically flinches. 

“don’t ever say that again,” he murmurs, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. 

“you’re kind. you’re funny. you’re smart. i could go on, but i’d rather just keep showing you why you’re everything i want.” 

after that, he doesn’t just say he loves you more. he shows it. kisses on the shoulder. forehead touches. hand on your lower back whenever you pass by. 

kaiser michael

he says it dramatically, mid-argument over something dumb like who left the toothpaste cap off. 

“ugh, i hate you.” paired with the most flamboyant eye-roll. 

you try to laugh, but your voice wavers. and he clocks it instantly. 

“liebling?” he calls, voice dropping all theatrics. 

when you hesitate, he goes from 100 to 0 in two seconds. arms already around you. 

“hey. hey, no. i was joking. i thought we were being dramatic together.” 

and when you say, “it’s fine. i get it. i wouldn’t like me either,” his whole world flips. 

“what the fuck?” he says, not out of anger, but sheer heartbreak. 

“baby, who told you that? who made you believe that?” 

he cups your cheeks and leans in, forehead pressed to yours. 

“you’re literally the only person on this earth who can put up with me. of course i like you. love you.” 

for the next few weeks he’s overly sweet. he sings cheesy songs to you, buys you flowers, tells ness to remind you every hour that kaiser thinks you're amazing. 

ness alexis

he says “i hate you” in a joking whine when you won’t let him pick the movie or steal the last cookie. 

he doesn’t expect it to land. you always laugh. 

but this time, he sees you shrink. 

“noooo, nonono, i’m sorry!! i didn’t mean it!” he throws himself dramatically on top of you. 

you try to laugh it off, but he sits up, real concern on his face. 

“... did that really hurt your feelings?” 

when you nod, even a little, ness pulls you into the biggest hug possible. 

“you’re my favorite person in the entire universe,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “don’t ever think otherwise.” 

when you admit that sometimes it’s just hard to believe someone could like you, he grips your hands. 

“you’re funny, and warm, and thoughtful, and you give the best hugs. i’d be lost without you, okay?” 

you get a whole night of comfort snacks, kisses, and cuddles while he reassures you in five different languages (he googled them). 

mikage reo

says “ugh, i hate you” after you tease him about being rich or wearing expensive moisturizer. 

when you don’t react, he blinks. pauses. “wait. baby?” 

he gets serious fast. drops the playful persona. 

when you confess you thought he might mean it, his expression falters. 

“you know how many people love me for my money or my name?” he says, tone serious. “but you love me for me. that means everything.” 

he’s the type to go all-out in comforting you. he immediately plans a spa day or a surprise picnic to cheer you up. 

but at night, it’s just the two of you and he quietly whispers, “i wish you could see yourself the way i do.” 

bachira meguru

jokes “i hate you” when you prank him or make fun of his monster drawings. 

you laugh, but your face tightens just enough for him to notice. 

“... wait. wait. do you think i meant that?” 

when you shrug, he gets really quiet. 

“hey.” he hugs you so tight, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “i don’t hate you. i love you. i love you so much it freaks me out sometimes.” 

he pulls you into his lap and holds your face. “you’re not hard to love. you’re the easiest thing i’ve ever loved.” 

he’ll paint you a picture the next day. it says “i love you, silly” with a monster giving you a flower. 

shidou ryusei

says it way too casually, like “ugh i hate you” when you block his goal or steal his protein bar. 

but when you go still, quiet, he feels weird. 

“... wait. you know i was messing around, right?” 

you say, “it’s okay, i get it,” and he freezes. 

“the hell do you mean, ‘you get it’? no, you don’t get to get it.” 

shidou’s comfort is blunt, but honest. he sits you down, grabs your hand, and makes you look at him. 

“you think i’d be dating you if i didn’t think you were the shit?” 

“babe, i don’t do things i don’t want to. and i want you. period.” 

then he wrestles you into a hug and bites your cheek gently like a weirdo. “mine. forever. you hear me?” 

nagi seishiro

he says “i hate you” lazily when you drag him out of bed or interrupt his game. 

it’s not even mean – just groggy, like, “ugh, i hate you for making me move.” 

usually you laugh, but today? your face falls just slightly. 

you try to play it off. he narrows his eyes. 

“... wait. are you mad?” he asks, tilting his head. 

when you finally admit it’s not the first time you’ve believed someone could hate you… nagi just stares. 

and then says, “that’s dumb.” 

not in a mean way — in a “how could anyone think that?” kind of way. 

“you’re the only person i like being awake for,” he mumbles, flopping onto you like a weighted blanket. 

“if you were easy to hate, i’d still be single and gaming in peace. but i’m not. i’m with you. because you make me feel happy in a way no game ever could.” 

he clings tighter, like you’re a giant body pillow. and every few minutes he mumbles, “don’t ever think like that again.” 

you end up staying in bed all day, not because he’s lazy, but because he won’t stop hugging you. 

isagi yoichi

says “i hate you” jokingly when you beat him at a shooting game or call him a nerd for memorizing world cup stats. 

it’s lighthearted… until your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. 

“wait. hey. that was a joke,” he blurts, the second you shift away. 

you tell him it’s fine, that you’re just used to not being liked, so it’s whatever. 

“what?” he sounds like you just punched him. “no. no. you don’t get to say that about yourself.” 

he sits you down, hands on your shoulders, looking frantic. 

“you’re– okay, listen. i love you. i love you so much, and i don’t care if it sounds dramatic. how could you ever think you’re hard to love?” 

his voice gets quieter, a little trembly. “i’ve never felt this way about anyone. you’re sweet and smart and you make me feel like i can breathe even when everything else is stressful.” 

he hugs you for a long time. arms locked tight. 

and for the next week, he texts you things like “i love you more than my right foot” or “if i had to pick between you and soccer… i’d pick you, no hesitation.” 

okay, maybe a little hesitation. but he swears you win. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[ddlydevotion]

PEARL NECKLACE

nsfw remmick headcanons

a/n: this wasn’t written with solely white audiences in mind, I know a lot of people have been worried about that when it comes to Sinners fanfiction. I’m Afro-Latina so you don’t have to worry about that here lol. Mentions of stretch marks.

Okay, don't hit me when I say this but I know for a fact that this man doesn't shave. I can't imagine him being all bare down there, are you kidding me? He definitely trims himself when the time calls for it but doesn't do anything more aside from that.

He couldn't care less if you're rocking a full bush. He'd probably smile out of how silly the situation is. Here's a man who feeds on the blood of the living in order to survive and you think he cares about some hair.

I forgot who said it first so if you know their @ please drop it in the comments, but I fully agree on the sentiment that Remmick would be completely desperate when it comes to you. He'd balance a bottle of Jack on his head if it meant you'd let him taste you. He'll paw at your thighs and look up at you with pleading, furrowed brows when you stop his attempt at lifting your skirt up.

He drools on your pussy.

His cock almost slips out of your pussy because of how wet you are, his thick drool mixing with your leaking wetness. He grabs the base of his cock, running it up your slit before slapping it on your swollen, fat clit, the impact leaving a wet plap! ring in the air.

" Shhh it's okay theree ya go, sweetheart, let me put it back in for you. Ya gonna take it for me?" he presses his forehead onto yours before whispering "ya promise?" against your flushed lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

He prefers to cum inside of you rather than anywhere else on your body. It's not about him wanting to avoid making a mess because this man gets fucking nasty. He just loves knowing that you're filled with him, that he's leaking from your swollen pussy. When he's about to cum he settles his hips flush against yours, his head finding a home in the crook of your neck. You swear you hear him whine as he moves his hips in tight circles, savoring the feeling of your gummy walls around his pulsing cock, his cum leaking from where the two of you are joined & down onto the bed.

he spreads you open with his thumbs, your throbbing clit and glistening pussy greeting him, and he has his very own way of greeting 'her' back.

Remmick definitely has a habit of talking to your pussy and referring to it as she and her. "Look at all that, baby. She missed me, huh? Look'a me, ya know you can't lie to me."

"Oh sweetheart, look at you. Gonna milk my cock? Thereee she is, there you go."

He'd definitely want you to sit on his face. His strong hands grip the globes of your ass in an attempt to bury his face even further in your pussy. If he notices you're holding back on him, he'll look you right in the eyes before saying, "sit. I told'ya to sit.", his words being slightly muffled by your plush thighs.

The two of you hardly leave the bedroom when you're on your period. He nearly drools at the sight of your tender tits, the stretch marks lining them appearing to be even more prominent. The sight of his lips covered in blood as he peaks at you from in between your thighs is enough to make you mewl, your eyes glazing over.

I'd say his aftercare mainly consists of pillow talk. He'll tuck you into his side and sling his defined arm over your shoulder. He'll look down at you with a small smile painting his face while checking in on you but not without letting out a teasing remark or two. "That wasn't too much, was it? I dunno, thought you were gonna pass out on me" (this part was inspired by @spikedfearn)

[aphrvdisiac]

THE BLACKEST DAY.

ellie williams & abby anderson x fem!reader.

part three of off to the races & to lie and love.

synopsis | devotions, crimes, sacrifices. how far will ellie and abby go to make sure you’ll never escape again? what will be the ultimate decision to make for your life, and what is worth saving — your life and freedom, or them and their undying love?

tags | adult language. NC-17 rating content & dark elements; m*rder, mentions of kidnapping, obsessive and possessive behaviors, infidelity, violent behavior from ellabs, manipulation, graphic descriptions of t*rture (even psychologically), threats made with weapons, blackmail. slight adult content; fingering, slight voyerisum, double penetration, asphyxiation, usage of mommy and daddy.

author’s note | i want to say there is not much smut in here due to the fact there is great dominant focus on the relationship; we get a new light of ellabs, but they are 10x more cruel and mean. please proceed with much caution as sensitive and graphic content does exist in this story. if you find anything triggering to your wellbeing, please click off and do not continuing.

if you have decided or do decide to keep reading, you are

hereby responsible for your own media consumption.

Despite how much you did confession, you knew you were meant for eternal damnation.

However, you didn’t know that was being permanently tied to Abby and Ellie’s forever — and having to know what they would do to keep you by their side. 

You thought in a span of a year after they had lured you back in, they would lighten up and make some adjustments within their behavior and emotions in order for you to live a more carefree life — which made you an idiot to think that they’d ever do that.

Things had only gotten worse since you returned, and that made absolutely sure you would never be able to escape from them again; not that you planned to, but they couldn’t put it past you anymore. 

While you knew you were loved and wanted by them despite all odds, you felt like a hostage — but yet, who would put up with you like they did? They took all risks and sacrifices for you, did what they had to so you would know where you belonged.

That was understandable and reasonable enough, right?

It felt like everyday you had to lie to yourself to keep going on, to have hope and faith within the relationship. 

“You cannot stab every person who looks my way!” You yelled, upset about how Ellie and Abby dragged you out of Saks earlier because a man’s eyes moved past you while you were looking at skirts. “He was simply being human by looking around!”

“He definitely wanted you. What are you not getting?” Abby wondered, eyebrows furrowed as she sipped on a glass of bourbon. “It’s common sense and knowledge.”

“This is like when that man at the restaurant last week called you love after he asked if you wanted a refill,” Ellie recalled, and you were about to break open your skull in front of them. “We are simply protecting you. Always will.”

“I’m going to take your gun and use it on myself,” you muttered under your breath. 

It was the possessiveness and obsession that you once admired, now become so deadly and uncontrollable that it drove them mad. It drove you insane too, but in the perspective that this is what the rest of your life would look like. 

Abby and Ellie took a seat on the couch, a few feet separated from each other as they continued with sipping their drinks. 

You stood in the middle of the living room, their eyes set on you with amusing grins dancing on their lips. You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the pair as Ellie cocked her head to the side, Abby waiting for you to speak your mind. 

You lifted up your left hand, your fresh manicure set being shown off. “You see this hand?” You asked, and they hummed. “Until it has a gorgeous Harry Winston ring on it, I don’t want to hear you both saying I’m all yours forever.”

“I don’t think we need to give you an engagement ring for you to know and understand that,” Abby stated, and you rolled your eyes, pursing your lips. “I feel like we have proven it enough; it’s you who needs to get that through your brain.”

“It’s unfair!” You said, and Ellie chuckled. “Murdering people doesn’t prove much.”

“No?” Ellie wondered. “You seem to enjoy our devotion to you, little one.”

“You enjoy this, bunny,” Abby followed up, her finger moving along the rim of her glass. “You know it yourself; you love that we would kill anyone for you. It gets you off as much as it does for us.”

You didn’t say anything back, only continuing to glare at them as they stared back. “I’m going to therapy now,” you said, dropping your arms and going to grab your purse. “I don’t want a bodyguard with me!”

“It’s for your fucking protection!” Abby yelled back, the pair hearing your footsteps fade away into the elevator, soaking in their high pride and ego. 

You were taken aback when they said you should go to therapy, stating how they felt guilty you had to witness Delilah’s corpse along with the amount of childhood issues you still held, and other amounts of shit to list. You were hesitant on it, but it was good that you could talk about anything, and everything — even about Ellie and Abby.

You could talk about how they were murderers, only due to the fact they paid the therapist to keep her mouth shut — they tripled her pay grade. At least at the end, you could let everything out and cry about it, be vulnerable and honest. 

A bodyguard ended up tagging along, staying three feet behind you and staying outside the therapist’s office as you sat inside, looking at your therapist, Jasmine. 

“How are you today? Do we need to talk about the girls?” She asked, notepad on her lap with her pen being played around by her fingers. “I know that look. What did they do now?”

“I am so sick of this bullshit where they say I am theirs,” you started off, holding onto the therapeutic plush that she kept on standby. “Of course, I am grossly attracted to it because of the strings that come along with that, but if I was truly theirs, why won’t they propose to me? They only speak of it when we are fucking.”

“Well, have you discussed this with them?” Jasmine asked, and you nodded. “You have to understand, all three of you have your issues that are brought into the relationship; the way your parents were has led you to be in love with toxicity.”

“It isn’t that toxic,” you protested. “We have problems, but.”

“They have killed for you, they had you bare witness to it so they could prove a point,” she added, and your eyes trailed away from hers, looking down at your lap. “Ellie and Abby didn’t have their own maternal figures, they disappeared; they knew abandonment, soaked that into yours, and transformed it into something sickening.”

“You say this, but never encourage me to leave,” you stated, and she tilted her head to the side, giving you a certain look. “I… I know it is not right, what they do, and I do hate it — but my whole life has been centered around them, they have given me everything, and I cannot just dismiss that.”

“You owe them nothing,” Jasmine assured. “You are still you, with or without them. I cannot force you to leave them, but you come in every two times out of the week, crying and complaining about them, what they have done.”

“Well, that’s what therapy is for,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. 

“Have you ever considered that you are in love with what they give, and not them anymore?” She wondered, and your eyes shot back up, locked into hers. “You said that they have given you everything — things that your parents couldn’t provide. You seek out that, not Ellie and Abby. You give into the things that fulfill your cravings.”

You scoffed. “And what cravings may that be?”

“Attention, love, protection,” Jasmine professed, and your brain had gone quiet. “Marriage won’t fix anything. You will continue to be in love with their providence, while they continue to be in love with violence and using you as an excuse to give into it.”

The room went quiet for a moment, being sure your heartbeat was making noise. “I do love them, I am in love with them,” you softly said, unknown to the tears that were coming out. “I do, I know I do.”

“You seem to be trying to convince yourself of that, rather than me,” she frowned, and sniffled, your head in your hands. “This relationship was built with purposes of chaos, manipulation, and violence — and that’s exactly how it will end. You know what they are capable of, and your love for them dissipated when you realized just how sick they are.”

After your session, you decided to go on a walk to clear your head further after your conversation with Jasmine. You knew you loved Ellie and Abby, you never questioned that at any time — the only things you questioned was how far they would go, and what personal sacrifices you would make; how much more your virtue and soul would be further tainted and bruised, just to satisfy their sadistic needs in exchange for their love and attention.

You knew there was darkness that clouded the relationship as they were purely responsible for it, but you gave into it — and somehow, you managed to find light within it all. Maybe it was to protect you from the cruel truth that they were psychopaths that didn’t hold an inch of remorse or mercy within their souls or hearts, not even in their minds. 

And sometimes, you did wonder if they used you as an excuse to murder, that maybe this entire time you gave them the perfect key for them to feed into their desires. If that was the truth, you would rather die. 

You walk back into the penthouse, taking off your shoes along with your scarf and coat. You heard your name being shouted from the girls' shared office as you careened to the sound of their voices and low jazz music that played. 

You stood there at the entrance, giving them a smile. “Sorry I took a while, I wanted to go for a walk.”

“How was your session with Jasmine?” Abby asked, putting down a file onto her desk as the pair made strict and serious eye contact with you, making your pulse race. 

They must have known something.

“It was okay, a really good session today,” you responded, picking at your cuticles. “It was one of those talks that just had me too in my head.”

“What did you guys talk about, though?” Ellie questioned, and you swallowed thickly. A haunting smile played on her lips, like she knew something and was trying to bait it out of you. 

Because they never ask what was discussed.

They said that was your business, your privacy, and they didn’t need to know about it. 

You went quiet, not knowing if you should lie though that would land your ass in hot water. You played with your necklace, fiddling with it as your mouth hung open, but nothing came out. You seemed gobsmacked, because you were.

What the hell did they know?

“I’ll tell you what was said,” Ellie started off, getting up from her desk chair, and slowly moved your way. “That fucking stupid therapist has been putting these lies into your head, and you’re believing her. Aren’t you?”

“No, no,” you shook your head, shuffling backwards. “Nothing was put in my head.”

“You hate what we do for you, little lamb?” Ellie asked, and you were on the verge of tears as she got close enough to grab your face, nearly cracking your jaw. “You think you are someone without us, hm? We can dump you back to your parents, and see if you keep thinking that.”

You sobbed, continuing to shake your head. “I–I was just talking!”

“Don’t fucking lie to us,” Abby approached the two of you, standing on the side while you looked at her. “We don’t pay her extra for no reason, and surely you are not that dumb to think we wouldn’t be keeping record of what your sessions consist of.”

You knew it was too good to be true. They just wanted to hold more stuff over your head. 

“You’re really breaking our hearts, bunny,” Abby sighed, but in a faux manner. “Do you think we are sick? Manipulative?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and Ellie deepened her squeeze, getting a whimper out of you. “No, no! I was just too in my head!”

Ellie moved her head so you could be looking directly at Abby, your eyes glossy and tearful. “Do you know what will happen if you leave us, baby? If you even dare think about it?” She asked, her face close to yours that you could smell faint alcohol, and you shook your head. “We will fucking kill you. Your death will be guaranteed.”

“You are nothing without me! You have no fucking purpose if I don’t exist!” You shot back, and they chuckled. “You’ll go blue simply because I am the oxygen you breathe and crave; your life will be dull and boring because you have no excuse to fucking kill someone.”

“Oh, look who finally got a mouth on her,” Ellie cooed, pushing you into Abby’s arms, and you were being lifted over her shoulder. “It’s almost like you enjoyed being fucked to the point your brain is sponge; only things you’re soaking up is to remember your place and who your devotion is to.”

You were being led up upstairs, knowing what was to come. You were sure the thumping of your heart could be heard, felt against Abby’s shoulder, and nausea came over you with regret attached to it. You started to cry out a symphony of apologies, trying to find any use or way to get out of Abby’s grip but the eyes of Ellie’s was proof that it wasn’t such a good idea to do.

The wind was knocked out of you when Abby settled you roughly onto the bed, your clothes stripped off your body with the desperate yet furious hands of Ellie. “I swear I am not going to leave you or anything!” You pleaded, trying not to break into tears as your glossy eyes begged for mercy. “I–I’m sorry!”

Abby had already seized a set of bunched-up rope, loosening it as Ellie straddled on top of you to hold you down. 

A part of you was getting hot and bothered by this, but the emotional state of you could not take it. After such a therapy session and a conscious part of your brain coming to life during your session, you could not even take the simplest touch of their hands on you. 

“Violet!” You screamed. 

You hardly used the safe word. Hardly. It has only been used twice in the span of dating the pair, and today it had to be used. 

Ellie hopped off your body, Abby dropping the rope. You broke into heavier sobs, your chest moving too rapidly and your breaths were shaky. 

They were trying to comfort you, but you only snapped. “Get the fuck away from me!” You kicked and crawled away to where the pillows rest, curling yourself up into a ball. “Get out, get out!”

“Baby—“

“Leave me alone!” You yelled, tossing a flower vase that sat on the nightstand towards their exact direction. To your unfortunate luck, they moved out of the way of it. “I just want to sleep. Alone.”

“Fine. Sleep alone,” Abby seethed, marching out of the room as Ellie stayed behind for a few seconds before following the blonde’s direction. 

It didn’t take long until tears came running out of you, nearly drowning in your sobs. You laid down, sobbing into a pillow and brought your knees back up to your chest again, shaking and shivering. 

You don’t know why it was today when you felt like you were breaking. It had been three years now, and the good girl act you kept up for them was coming to a crash, feeling it in your bones. 

You couldn’t bite your tongue anymore, but you had to. Because you were much of a bad person as they were; everyone they killed or harmed was because of you, because you tattled and wanted to see how far they'd go. 

And this was it. You reached the final level, and it caused you to have a psychological breakdown. You were now trapped in love with them, not in love.

Your need for love, attention, and desire caused you every sense of dignity and self worth you carried. You were nobody without them because they stripped you of who you were before them — and that made you fucking sick to your stomach. 

You couldn’t stand a night in the house with them as you boosted yourself up out of the bed and moved back to the front door where your shoes and coat hung with your scarf. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Abby asked, noticing her and Ellie staying feets away from you. “It’s late.”

You turned your head to them. “I’m not a fucking child; if I want to be one, I’ll go to my parents.”

“The ones who don’t fucking care?” She spat back, and you rolled your eyes as you adjusted your scarf around your neck. 

“Well, when I left you both and asked for haven, they offered it without hesitation,” you stated, grabbing your purse. “I’m sick of this shit.”

And like that, you walked out of the house before they could further protest. 

Which was only the beginning of the end. 

You were four dirty martinis in, elbows rested on the bar countertop as old blues music faintly played throughout the dingy bar. 

A body sat next to you, hearing the man order bourbon on the rocks. There was significant silence as it was you, three other strangers, and now him sitting around in the bar smelling of old musk and lemon. 

“So you’re here alone?” He asked, eyes focused on the basketball game that played on the laggy TV in the corner. “Or are your girlfriends waiting around?”

Your eyes snapped to him on cue as he met yours. “What?” You managed to sputter out. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“Well that depends,” he mumbled, slouching forward with his arms crossed onto the countertop. “You see, your girls did a great deal killing my friend, Brandon. I mean, h—he was gonna go to fucking Princeton!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, pushing away your drink. “I have to go.”

“Oh, but I’m not going to let you,” he told you, grabbing a hold of your wrist as he viciously gripped it and leaned in closer to the side of your head. “Unless you want your pretty brains blown out.”

He had a gun. 

You stayed firm in your seat, his hand removed from your wrist. “How do you know me? Who are you? What do you even want?”

“Karma. Payback. Whatever they call it,” he admitted, clearing his throat as his drink finally arrived. “See, I did some good research into you and your girlfriends. Whoever is protecting them has a good way of keeping anything about them completely clear and hidden.”

“No one needs to protect them. They are good people,” you said, brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“Oh, but you— you fucking New York princess — no one is protecting you or your family,” he grinned, and nausea consumed you. “Now, you have a good record. I guess being a goody-two shoes will do that. However, those parents of yours… well, fuck.”

“My parents have nothing to do with anything,” you said, ready to break your martini glass for shards to stab into his eyes. “You leave them the fuck out of this.”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“I don’t even know your name, freak.”

“Vincent Hayes.”

“Well Vincent,” you said, getting up from your chair, and threw down a few twenties onto the stained countertop. “I don’t give a fuck what agenda you have planned or want to succeed at, but leave me alone or I will take a gun to your head.”

“You might want to care,” he suggested, grinning. “No one wants a father who commits tax evasion and bribery, and has multiple affairs.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, inching yourself closer to him. “And if you dare to come after my family, I’ll come after yours. Whatever you have, I’ll take it.”

“You didn’t have this much spunk before Ellie and Abby,” Vincent reminded you, and you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, a method you’d had to come to use to prevent any harmful flashbacks.”If I remember correctly, you were a loser bitch.”

“And so was your buddy,” you said, giving him a pat on his arm before you walked out of the bar, and back home. Once you were only a few miles away from the place, you took your phone out of your purse, and went to your phone app, contacting your dad immediately.

“Hello?” He answered after a few rings. “Are you okay?”

“Dad, I need to talk to you,” you started off, exhaling heavily. “Nothing’s bad happening, right? Like you would tell me if you were okay, or in trouble?”

He went quiet for a few moments, only static making prominent noise over the line. “You have nothing to worry about, okay? I am taking care of everything for this family, and I need you to continue staying with the girls because of that. Okay?”

Continue staying with the girls.

When you wanted to be out, there was always going to be a reason why you had to stay. You hung up the call, and continued to walk back to the penthouse, stifling your sobs as you walked past strangers and a violent urge to puke everywhere. 

You didn’t want to go back home; in fact, you were okay with staying at a hotel or anything else for that matter. You disabled the tracker on your phone, and went on to call Jasmine. “Good evening,” she picked up after only two rings, and you sighed. “Why are you calling this late?”

“I… I don’t want to stay with them tonight. And I know this is inappropriate to ask, but may I stay with you this evening?,” you wondered, sniffling, and looked at the ground. “There is just so much that has happened tonight since the session, and I don’t have anywhere to go because they’ll find me.”

Jasmine gave you her address, and you sighed in relief, minimal anxiety being lifted off your shoulders. “I’ll run a kettle of tea for you, and I’ll be sure to give the doorman your name.”

You were curled up with a soft throw blanket on Jasmine’s couch, a warm cup of tea sitting in your hands. “Did anything particular occur today?” She asked, and you sighed, soaking in the sweet smell of lemon. “Seems like you��re extra fragile today.”

“They recorded our session today, they know what I said,” you sniffled, looking up from your tea. “I don’t know how, and of course I know they pay you to keep things a secret, but… Yeah, they know.”

“I would still be silent even if they didn’t pay me,” Jasmine confessed, and you grinned, your ears perking up, too. “Not for their sake, but for yours.”

“You’re a therapist, not my savior,” you stated, taking a sip of the tea. 

“When will it be enough for you?” She asked, placing herself slightly closer to you. “You are exhausted, scared, and finished. When will you draw the line?”

You wish you had the answer to that, but you never would. You should have drawn the line the second they killed Brandon James or Delilah, but instead you ran back to them, and caved in you; you were indefinitely trapped forever, and the only way out would be death.

“You deserve better,” she whispered as you noticed her body leaning in towards yours, her head dipping to a side angle. You knew what was going to take place, and you reckoned with your loyalty as Jasmine didn’t hesitate to put her lips onto yours, you caving into the kiss. 

You were loyal and submissive to Ellie and Abby — you had been for years. If they knew you were with another woman, letting her kiss you and tell you that they didn’t deserve you, they would be cutting her apart before your bare eyes. 

You shifted onto her lap, the kiss turning into a messy, desperate makeout session as Jasmine’s hands found their way under your shirt, and unclasped your bra. “I got you, you’re safe with me,” she whispered between a kiss, your shirt and bra coming off during it. “I won’t let them hurt you anymore,” her lips dragged down along your neck, to your collarbones. 

Guilt and shame should’ve come so sudden to you, should have allowed you to push away but you only wanted more. 

It wasn’t like you were sex deprived because you weren’t — Ellie and Abby made sure sex was a continuous routine in your everyday lives. But it was the gentle touching, the soft reassurance and kisses that you missed, and Jasmine was filling that void, and that is what she was only doing. 

You were using her to fill your satisfaction. 

The sun cracked through the windows and flared across your eyes, forcing them open and adjusting to the brightness. An arm was wrapped around your waist, and you noticed the tattoos on Jasmine’s arms, your fingertips following the traces of them. 

Your touch awoken her, and she hummed, smiling the moment she saw you. “Hey,” she whispered. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

“I think she feels just fine,” Ellie’s voice came about, causing you and Jasmine to both jump up, your anxiety spiking. “Considering the fact our girlfriend’s clothes are off, and scattered in your living room.”

Abby stood aside, seemingly irritated and disappointed in you. However, you made out the gun that was in her front right pocket, and you swallowed thickly, nauseous and scared of what was to come. “I think Jasmine here thought she was her property,” Abby said, gesturing to the hickeys on your neck. 

“Just leave her the fuck alone,” Jasmine spoke up, and you cringed to her defense, only knowing she was making it worse. “She wants nothing to do with you.”

“Oh?” Ellie grinned. “Is that true, lamb?”

You felt small and weak suddenly, not responding or moving. 

“She won’t answer that,” Jasmine continued, scoffing. “She is scared of you, and she is done loving the two of you.”

“I’m really done hearing you whine, you bitch,” Abby chuckled, stomping towards Jasmine’s side of the bed, and grabbed her by a fistful of her hair. She tried to fight off your girlfriend, but it was impossible as she then dropped her to the ground, kicking her repeatedly in the lungs. “This is just the beginning of it.”

“Come on, sweet girl. We have to take these affairs somewhere more private,” Ellie said, and you glanced at her, shaking your head. You seemed like a scared, afraid puppy who had just been kicked again, and the auburn cooed at you, giving a faux pout. “You know something like this would happen, baby. Did you really think you would get away with this?”

Abby was in the background forcing a coat around Jasmine’s nude body, and slipping on her shoes. You couldn’t make out what the blonde was saying to her, but you were sure it wasn’t kind things, and possibly reassuring Jasmine that she was going to meet the end of her life. 

“Get on up, sweetheart,” Ellie pulled out her gun, clocking it. “Or do I have to re-train you all over again?”

You got up hesitantly, but moved your yesterday’s clothes back onto your body as Ellie made sure to keep the gun in your eyesight. “Are you going to kill her?” You asked, voice hush and soft, on the brink of crying. “You should hurt me, not her, Els.”

“We’re gonna find out together, baby,” Ellie grinned, and cocked her head for you to start following her. 

Minutes later, you and Jasmine were tossed into the back of a limo with your girlfriends. Abby had to securely put tape around her eyes and mouth the moment the doors closed behind you all, and you had to do your best to ignore her sobs. 

“We weren’t paying you to fuck our girl,” Abby blurted, and Jasmine let out a sniffle. “Miss Hills… You should have known better, even after you knew how Brandon Jasmes died when he decided to be a stupid fuck.”

“But you aren’t going to kill her,” you defended. “Not her — she does have people who will miss her, and someone will find out?”

“Like who?” Abby wondered.

Your brain registered the night of last, how you met Vincent Hayes who was a friend of Brandon’s, and was warning you of what he knew, and was going to do. 

“Someone’s threatening me,” you stated, and the girls shifted their eyes entirely onto you. “When I left last night, I went to the bar and this guy started threatening me – saying how he had stuff on my dad that could land him in prison.”

“And you decided to what — fuck your therapist? How fucking cliché can you be, sweetheart?” Ellie asked, and you rolled your eyes, visibly irritated and frustrated. “What’s his name? What does he know?”

“He knows your guys’ slates are clean, and you killed Brandon,” you recalled, and they hummed. “But he said my dad is committing tax evasion, bribery, and more. And then he…”

Your girlfriends shifted closer in, panicked but alerted.

“Spit it out, bunny.”

You sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “He then threatened to blow my brains out.”

Abby looked at Ellie, an unsettling laugh leaving her mouth. “Jasmine… Today is your lucky day,” Ellie said, Abby giving her a curt nod. “But we still need to take care of you for fucking around.”

The car came to a sharp halt as you looked outside to see an empty warehouse. Ellie opened up the door, stepping out while Abby grabbed and dragged Jasmine out of the car, the girl kicking her legs and screamed. “Bunny, you need to see this for yourself. This is your new punishment.”

It's not like you had a choice, you had to oblige and obey. You already put yourself in a grave for letting someone else fuck you, although you continued to see it as you using Jasmine. You got out of the car, following behind all the girls, and saw a table that had multiple objects on top of them; a wrench, hammer, pilers, and rope. 

Abby shoved Jasmine into a chair that stood in the middle of the large, empty warehouse. You eyed around, seeing dried blood spots scattered everywhere, and your body cringed and shivered. 

So this is where the killing takes place, you thought to yourself. This is where people I caused to die last saw before they went away.

And Jasmine was possibly next.

“I don’t want to see this please,” you cried, shaking your head. “Please don’t let me.”

“But you will miss all the fun,” Ellie said, frowning. “And I told you that this is your punishment.”

Abby binded Jasmine’s arms and legs, putting some around her waist to the chair to keep her entirely strapped down. “You think we must be exaggerating when we say we would do anything for you,” she started off, grabbing the wrench. “Or when we say that you lead all these people to die, and we just have to take care of them for you.”

The wrench then hits Jasmine in the stomach, a muffled scream coming out from behind the duct tape. 

Ellie stood behind you, her gun pointed to your back as her hand held and squeezed your jaw, forcing you to watch closely and attentively. “Some of those fingers of hers have to go,” she cooed, sighing dramatically. “It’s unfortunate. She was a good therapist for a while.”

The wrench went on to beat down on her legs, Abby taking a fun swing at every inch and part, bones cracking and breaking. 

“Abby, take off the tape,” Ellie suggested, and the blonde obeyed, ripping both pieces off. “We are going to give Jasmine a show, baby. Take off your bottoms.”

You nodded and sniffled, your shaky hands reaching to the waistband of your jeans and underwear as you snug them off down to your ankles. Ellie’s hand went from your jaw, down to your stomach and cunt, her fingertips grazing over it. You shivered to her touch, whimpering for more — it was sick how your body immediately responded and gave into her touch, wanting and needing more. 

“Who’s your daddy, angel?” Ellie asked, loud enough for Jasmine to hear. “Go on, and say who is. Let her know.”

“I–It’s you, Els. Only you,” you moaned, her fingers dipping inside of your cunt and perfectly curled in, moving at a harsh pace. “My body is yours and Abby’s.”

“You hear that, Miss Hills?” Abby wondered, dropping the wrench and picked up the hammer next. “Did you fucking hear that!” The hammer struck at her feet, a harsh scream escaping her but Abby got a cruel rise out of it, taking the hammer to her hands. 

Your brain ran around with what was happening around — Jasmine being tortured, Abby finding it humorous, and Ellie fucking you for her to see. 

Your climax approached you instantly, not giving Ellie a heads-up as you let it go, and continued to cry from how you wanted to cover yourself up and repent for how your body gave into Ellie’s demand. 

Abby shifted from the hammer to the piler’s in the blink of an eye, and used them to break and half-amputate a few of Jasmine’s fingers. You knew what they were doing, though — they were also torturing you, wanting you to understand that they could do worse than this next time. 

You knew about them being murderers, so why wouldn’t they give you a show. 

Jasmine Hills ended up being discarded in an alleyway hours later with a pulp face, dangling fingers, damaged palms, and a bruised and broken body. 

You decided to stay at your parents house for a few days after what you witnessed and endured. You didn’t know what to do about your girlfriends, almost terrified to even sleep around them, and you were already experiencing nightmares

“Amore, you have a guest!” Your mom shouted, and you groaned, getting up from your bed. You had been sinking in your comforters for those days, garbage of foods and cups dumped in mindless places, with you in days-old pajamas. 

You shuffled into the main living room of your parents Manhattan’s penthouse. Thinking it would be about anyone else, you were met with Vincent Hayes.

You couldn’t curse him out in front of your mother, without making it suspicious. “Um, hi?” You said, and he smiled, taking a close look at you. “How can I help you, Vincent?”

“We need to have a conversation,” he told you, and you sighed. Your gut wanted you to listen and have the conversation, a part of you feeling like it was something you needed to hear. You only nodded and gestured your head for him to follow you out to the terrace. 

You stepped into New York’s cold weather, sitting down at the small coffee table as he sat across from you. “So, you’re stalking me now?” You wondered. “I could have you arrested for that.”

“You’re barely with them,” Vincent said, taking out a pack of cigarettes. “I have eyes on you and them. Last thing I know is you were in some dingy warehouse.”

You sucked in tears to the memory, and he noticed, only tossing his pack and lighter to you. 

“They needed to do what they did,” you defended, lighting up the stick. “Nothing horrible happened.”

“The girl is in the hospital — the NYPD categorized her as a Jane Doe because she was that unrecognizable,” Vincent professed, and you let out a heavy puff. “You don’t want part of this, and I can help you.”

“What? Who said I want your help?” You scoffed and shortly chuckled, shaking your head. “Abby and Ellie are everything to me — you just don’t understand our relationship. They have done so much for me, more than my parents ever have.”

“A friend of mine in the DA office knows who has eyes on your dad, snitching him out and stuff,” Vincent started, lighting up his own cigarette as he dazed out for a second when he let go of his first puff. “You see, there is corruption in the justice system. Some of the prosecutors in the DA office know that the girls paid somebody to plant evidence on that other person, and that they are killers.”

“And you are telling me this, why?”

“You exchange information about Anderson and Williams, and the DA office will drop everything on your dad,” Vincent confessed, and your eyes widened, your heart sinking. “You don’t want anything to do with what they are doing. You were seemingly unaware until Brandon.”

“So let me get this straight,” you paused, deadpanning at him. “You want me to betray my girlfriends — the only people in my life who truly love me — just to save my dad’s ass? For all I care, my dad deserves to be there more.”

Vincent sighed, irritated and in disbelief. “I can see that you are struggling with what to do,” he stated, almost as if he wanted to sympathize, but just couldn’t. “If they get caught, you will be in just the same trouble as them. Imagine how that will look on your parents? What will it do to them?”

“It's like you said — I didn’t know what was happening until Brandon,” you repeated, nearly out and done with your cigarette. “The reason why your friend is dead is because he decided to be a prick, and think he was a high value man or something. If it wasn’t the girls going to take care of him, someone else eventually would.”

Vincent kept a calm demeanor, but with his hands tightened into vein-popping fists, it was sure he was going to blow at any moment. Minutes passed and his hands unclenched as he stood up from the chair, and burned out the bud of his cigarette. “There’s going to be a memorial for Brandon tonight at the St. Peter church,” he told you, and you raised a brow, tilting your head to the side. “Tomorrow will be one year since he was discovered dead. Just come by… I encourage you to do so.”

He excused himself out, and you continued to sit outside, staring at the skylines and sighed heavily. You felt an immense amount of guilt for Brandon’s death, it is something you couldn’t ignore, even as you tried to justify why he died or how he came to it. 

You were the only person at fault. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you took it out, seeing Abby’s contact name. For days, they have tried to ring you, text you back to back, and do anything they could to get an ounce of your attention. 

You decided to answer it this one time. 

“Bunny.”

The line was static for a few moments. 

“Bunny, come home,” Abby pleaded, and you sniffled. “We only mean to take care of you, love you — however we mean to do that.”

“I… Tonight’s not good,” you mumbled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. “I have something to do, and I’m not just ready to see you and Els yet. I need time.”

Abby was quiet, and it caused you to shiver. Any silence that came from your girlfriends was not a good sign, and it could only mean they were a plot being made, or they were going to do something beyond inhumane. 

The line went dead, and you were left with the bustling noises of New York, your heart sinking into your stomach. 

How could anything get worse?

You stood outside St. Peter’s church, frozen and paralyzed in your spot as you watched people walk in. You swallowed thickly, your fingernails clawing into the palm of your hand to give yourself any hint of ease and calmness. 

Then you heard your last name being called out to you. You turned your head, seeing two older figures approaching you, a female and male. “I’m Detective Ramirez, this is Detective Adams. We are with NYPD Homicide, and we are revisiting a case involving Brandon James,” the female spoke, a smile playing on her lips to seem pleasant and kind. “It’s surprising to see you here.”

“His friend invited me,” you answered. “How can I help you?”

“Miss, you know why we are here,” Adams said, and you hummed, nodding. “You were declared a misfit for the trial, that’s why you weren’t in it, but you know what happened. And you can put them away.”

“If they were already found innocent, why retry them?” You wondered. “Doesn’t the justice system grant innocence to those who are innocent?” 

“The DA wants a retrial, but it is only possible if you agree to be part of it,” Adams added, and you scoffed. “If you consent to it, the DA will let go of your dad, and stop sniffing around.”

“You are some corrupted fucks,” you laughed. “Now if you excuse me, I have to get inside.”

Ramirez momentarily stopped you in your tracks, shining a small card in front of you. “Here are our contacts if you decide to change your mind.”

You stared at her and the card, back and forth, before your hesitant hand seized it and you nodded. You walked off, putting the cards in your purse and continued inside, a crowd filling the pews while some stood off to the side talking. 

“Welcome, child,” you heard the priest approach you, and you smiled, greeting him. “You are a friend of the deceased?”

You nervously smiled. “I guess you can say that, Father.”

You two shared a small, curt laugh until his eyes shifted a deep focus on you. “Something is troubling you however,” he stated, and you shivered, stumbling on your words as you tried to deny it. “The Lord never lies, my child. You are tackling something.”

“I believe I cannot confess here, Father,” you told him, and he hummed, nodding. He gestured his head for you to follow him, and before you knew it, you were in the confessional booths. 

All you could think about was getting fucked in one by the girls about last year. 

“Forgive me for Father, for I have sinned,” you began, blessing yourself and kissing the side of your hand shortly after. “Forgive me for I am not that religious but–”

“God accepts all,” the priest stated. “He forgives all.”

“Well Father, I think I killed a man,” you admitted, looking down at your lap. “My partners, they are protective of me, and it is in their nature. But they have taken it far multiple times, and I wasn’t aware of it until last year. And when I tried to escape them, I only allowed them back in, and now I am trapped in Hell.

“But, I love them, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to go to Hell for things they have done, or for God to hate me over it. They have killed so many people because I tattle-tale on them, and my partners showed no mercy, no kindness. And I just… I am so lost, and scared. Father, I don’t see no way out of this except self execution.”

“Self execution is a sin, I plead you know this,” he stated, and you broke into sobs, hunching over as you held yourself. “There is nothing wrong to love those who God brought into your life, child. The only sins that have been committed here are wrath, greed, and pride; and they have not been done by you. You are not responsible for the sins that have been committed, you are not destined for Hell.”

“But I have fueled their sins. I am their biggest one.”

The priest went quiet for a moment, a frustrated but saddened sigh escaping him as he himself struggled. He sympathized, knowing you were just a girl who was lost and landed herself in a wrong situation. 

For the past few years, the high was blissful and could not get better than that. You thought Abby and Ellie were your angels sent from God himself, but after Brandon, Delilah and Jasmine, you realized they were fallen ones, instead. Their fair beauty and success drew you to them, and you were blinded by it so much, you could not see what they were like beneath.

They used you to excuse their drive and need to harm individuals, to let out what they were made up of.

Evil.

“Am I wrong to love the Devil? Is that what this is, Father?” You asked. “I need to know.”

“Jesus loved Judas. God loved Lucifer. Does that make them wrong? Did they let Lucifer and Judas' betrayal and sins affect them?”

You sniffled, and only nodded to yourself, assuring you that this fate was old as time. You were not wrong to come to love them, but it was only about what you were going to do next. 

“I want you to do penance — charitable work, twenty hail marys for the next two weeks, and leaving these partners of yours soon,” the priest demanded, his voice tough and stern. “The Lord will then forgive you, my child.”

When everyone wanted you to stay with Ellie and Abby — even made a reason to — the voice of God himself demanded you shouldn’t. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said, and walked out of the confessional booth. Walking back into the main center of the cathedral, you saw Vincent, and his eyes immediately picked up on you. You decided to let yourself approach him as a smug look was plastered onto his face, and you rolled your eyes over it.

“Something change your mind?” He asked. “Thank you for coming, it means everything.”

“I just wanted to um… pay my respects,” you assured, and he hummed. “It is my fault he is dead after all. But I can’t stay long, I have some things to situate.”

“Going to testify?” He wondered. “I saw those detectives talking to you outside.”

“Wow, you do stalk me a lot,” you bitterly joked. “I am sorry about Brandon, though. I didn’t know they were so capable of… you know. I didn’t think they would do that.”

“The only way you can truly get forgiveness is if you leave them,” Vincent said, and you knew he was right, but it wasn’t that easy. Everybody made it sound like it was the most simple action you could make, but it wasn’t. 

Abby and Ellie had been your whole life, and they had committed so much towards you, and the thought of abandoning them after it all made you want to hurl everywhere. You knew that leaving them would end with catastrophic consequences, and it wouldn’t happen right away nor ever; the last time you tried to leave, you were brought right back in. 

You walked out of the church without saying much else, and you were met with your girlfriends right outside. You froze paralyzed, eyes scanning for the detectives as a precaution, and you shivered to their darkening gaze that rage with hunger and madness. 

“Come on, baby,” Abby beckoned you over to her car. Ellie fiddled with something in her pocket, and it made you hesitant and nervous. “We aren’t gonna hurt you, we just need to show you something.”

For once, your interest was piqued and you tried to let go of your anxiety, practically shuffling over to the car. Abby opened the backseat door, and you climbed in with Ellie trailing behind you. “I have to blindfold you, honey,” Ellie said, and you eyed her, shaking your head. “Not because of that. We are taking you to a sweet surprise, I cross my heart on that.”

“You could be killing me just for leaving,” you protested, and Ellie sighed, taking out one of her suit ties from her pocket. “No, no! I don’t want to die.”

“Oh, don’t be so hysteric,” Ellie groaned. “It is sweet and you’ll like it. It is what you have been waiting for.”

You wanted to hesitate, but instead slowly gave in and let Ellie blindfold you as your heart raced immensely under your skin, and you could feel a wave of nausea coming to you. They could be tricking you, and as foolish as you are, you had fallen for it and were about to be executed.

Maybe God heard one of your prayers, and decided to cave into it for you. 

The car ride went by in quiet, the only thing surely heard being your heartbeat and the sound of you cracking your fingers as a distraction.

Ellie put her hand over both of yours. “Stop that. You know it isn’t good.”

“I’m scared.”

“We would never kill you, bunny,” Abby stated, sincerity drawn into her voice. “We know you get caught up in your head because of things we have done and put you through, but the thought of taking your life has never crossed our minds. In fact, it still stands that we would not exist without you.”

You nodded, unknowingly of the grins that played on their lips. The car came to a full stop only minutes later, and Ellie carefully escorted you out, feeling hands on each side of your waist guiding you; Ellie’s hand was cold, while Abby’s was warm. 

They made sure you didn’t trip or fall down while altogether padding up a flight of stairs, always careful whenever they were the ones moving you around; you were that fragile to them. If you were to fall down on the pavement you were walking across and scrape your knees, they would immediately be kissing the wounds and tending to them, angry at themselves for being so mindless with you. 

“Okay, here we go,” Ellie whispered, and the second the blindfold was off, a symphony orchestra played a version of Hallelujah – but it wasn’t the original, but by your favorite 1994 version of it by Buckley.

A candlelit path remained in front of you with rows of your favorite flowers being placed everywhere, and you could see the city lights of New York in the background. 

Then you realized you were on the rooftop of Faye Academy – where history all started. Your partners moved you down the path as you broke into sobs with your face into your hands, and could not believe what was about to happen. 

A proposal. 

When you got to the end of the pathway, you were in a circle of roses and lilies that were in beautiful blossoms. Ellie and Abby stood in front of you, noticing them nervous for the first time ever in your life; usually they were so bold and confident, but in this moment, they were shaking and finding a way to calm themselves down. 

Ellie started off by stating your name, a shiver running down your spine. “You have been the bane of our existence for a few years now, and you will forever remain as our religion, and our sole reason for living and breathing. Abby and I never thought we would find the same soulmate, but it is one of the greatest and only blessings we got out of God, and we would not want it any other way.”

“Since the first day we saw you, mindful and occupied, we were instantly drawn to you,” Abby continued on, grinning as she could recall that very memory. “The light from the sun graced you that day, and we just knew you were meant to be ours for lifetimes.”

What you had just confessed to the priest fleeted through your head, and his demands for you were sunk into nothingness in this moment. You wanted to believe they were just finding a way to further hold you hostage, but the way their face and voices softened, laced with love and genuinity, you wanted to kiss them and forgive them for everything.

At the end of the day, they were your girls and they did everything for you. They were the ones who always took care of you and defended your honor when no one did, and when you were left abandoned and alone, they came to your rescue.

You were always meant to be theirs, one way or another.

“Will you be our wife, bunny?” Abby asked, and you broke into further sobs, nodding. Ellie took the ring box out of her pocket, and you saw a beautiful Harry Winston ring that made you nearly choke onto your sobs.

“I love you!” You shouted, jumping into their embraces as they both managed to hold you close. “Yes I will marry you– Fuck, I want to be your wife.”

A wife. You were going to be a wife to the loves of your life, and your brain managed to forget everything that had happened for the past year until only a few days ago. You believed that everything was worth it to lead up to this moment, and now everything would get better and healthier; you would be wives, and you would have to live a happy marriage if things were meant to be, or if a kid would come into the picture. 

“Our pretty little wife, hm?” Ellie teased, and you nodded again, earning a soft laugh out of them. 

In an hour, you were between the two of them back at your shared home, Abby kissing on your neck as Ellie groped your ass and bunched your dress up to your waist to get a feel of your soaking cunt. “So soon until we put a fucking baby in you, little one,” 

You purred at their touches and kisses, any ounce of purity and doubt moving out of you. You would let them desecrate you every time, and you would feel pure heaven and bliss in it, letting them own and control your body. 

“We missed you so much, baby,” Abby said, kissing behind your ear. “Make us proud and get on the bed.”

You hummed, maneuvering yourself onto the bed where you slowly removed your dress as you gave your girlfriends a strip tease, with your undergarments coming off last. You bent your body down, knees and elbows sinking into the mattress, able to feel it dip heavier from behind you. 

“Look at this pretty cunt,” Abby cooed, her fingertips grazing along it. “Will never be able to get enough of this; you just know how to make us want to destroy you, bunny.”

Ellie came onto the bed in front of you, her strap in front of your face as she pushed any strands of hair out your face, and gripped onto your chin. “You gonna be good for us, doll?” Ellie wondered, and your eyes softened before her primal ones, nodding.

“Yes, daddy.”

“That’s our girl. See, you still remember who you belong to,” she praised, and you giggled, putting your hand around the silicone, licking the tip. “There we go, baby. Jus’ like that.”

Abby spat down onto your cunt, rubbing it in before she roughly pushed herself into you, and you gasped harshly, eyebrows furrowing. “Left us hanging for a bit, baby. You let another girl touch you and everything; can’t lie to you, it made us wet and turned on. We knew she wasn’t better than us.”

Ellie grabbed your head and forced a mouthful of her cock into yours, earning immediate gagging noises and a glop of drool forming around the object. Your eyes rolled, light breaths coming out of you with each thrust from Ellie and Abby, your head already dizzy and cloudy.

“Oh, look at you, sweetheart,” Ellie teased, petting the top of your head with each thrust she put forth into your mouth. “She just always gets so messy, doesn’t she, Abs?”

“She’s fucking soaking and milking my cock,” Abby groaned, feeling her own wetness form under the harness. “Just needed us to fuck her and break her all over again, make her remember she can’t leave ever again.”

Abby pounding into you always feel intoxicating, you always needed to be bouncing on her cock and letting her know how desperate you were; you wanted to suck and gag on Ellie for hours, and let her fuck the back of your throat until it was hoarse and raw. 

You needed them in each, every little special way that could satisfy your needs to the fullest extent. They could do that, no one else. They could make you theirs and make you feel worship with their sweet nothings, or cocks breaking into you one way or another.

Drool dripped down your chin, your eyes drooping as Ellie had to practically keep your head up to keep her cock shoving back and forth into your mouth. You allowed her to use your mouth, let her get her own sick satisfaction out of this moment, Abby doing the same thing while your cum was looping around her dick.

“Let’s break her,” Ellie said, and Abby stopped all movements into you, a whine escaping your mouth. “You need another punishment, baby. You must think we are stupid.”

Abby grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to be dragged to the floor before them, and your knees slammed against the hardwood floors. “Jasmine was one thing, baby,” she began, clicking the roof of her mouth in thought. “But the police are another. Where is your loyalty?”

You frowned, staring up at them back and forth. “It’s to you. It has always been to you.”

“And Vincent Hayes?” Ellie asked. “He is awfully close to you.”

“I wanted to pay my respects to Brandon,” you admitted, sniffling. “I… I felt guilty and bad.”

“Guilty? For what? For letting that sick fuck call you a bitch?” Abby questioned, and you shook your head. “Use your brain, sweetheart. You are clearly dumb, and need us to guide you through everything in life.”

“I’m not dumb, I—I just felt really bad,” you neared breaking down, eyes shifting away. “It is my fault he is dead. It is my fault so many people got injured or died.”

“Here is what you seem to forget – and look at us, baby,” Abby demanded, and you slowly peered back up at them. “It is our sole duty for us to take care of you, and protect you. Do you know where you would be in life without us? How sick and lost you would be? People would be using you and taking advantage of you if we never existed, sweetheart.”

“I… I would have minded my own business forever if we never met,” you stated, wiping your tears away. “I won’t talk to anyone, I haven’t spoken. This ring,” you lifted up your hand, “it states that I am yours for lifetimes, and I will do anything as your wife and partner. Nothing or no one could take me away.”

The pair seemed to be satisfied by your answer because in their heads, they got you right where they needed you forever; submissive, trapped, and loyal – like a fucking dog.

It took cunning patience to mold you into this state, and make sure you would never leave again; if putting a ring on your finger was the way, so be it — at least you could not go anywhere and your loyalty was finalized by a proposal, and soon a marriage. 

They could not risk you fleeing from them, and they had to keep as their pretty hostage for the rest of your shared lives; if they had to repeatedly kill, torture, and remind you where your lifetime stood, they would do just that.

After all, they loved you. They cared. Who else would?

A backhand came from Abby as she dragged you back to the bed, and in moments, you were stuck between Ellie and her. Ellie bent you slightly forward as spit went down your ass and she shoved her into your ass, and Abby wasted no time getting back into your swollen cunt. 

“Tell us who you belong to, sweet thing,” Abby said. “Come on, use your fucking brain.”

“I belong to Abby and Ellie, I be—belong to you!” You cried out due to their rigorous, violent pace, being able to feel them literally and physically break your holes. 

“Yeah, baby? Nobody else?” Ellie taunted, eliciting a breathy laugh. “We could fucking kill you, you know that? But we just love you so much, and wouldn’t want that.”

You shook your head, too spaced out to closely listen to what Ellie was saying; it should’ve been a sign, but you were focused on the feeling and motion of them pounding into you. “I—I love you so much, so so much,” you moaned, your back arching, and fingernails clawing into Abby’s wrist the second she put a tight grip on your throat. “So much, mommy. You don’t understand how much I love you.”

“Oh, we know baby,” Abby told you, grinning and panting. “Going to do anything for us, right?”

You nodded. “Anything for you. My loyalty and life is to you.”

“Then you are going to kill, baby,” Ellie stated, and the sexual high was shifted into terror and panic. “We are gonna teach our pretty baby how to kill, and take care of business.”

“N–No, please no!” You cried, their laughs ringing in your eyes as they sounded like maniacal psychopaths. 

“You need to– hey, focus!” Abby yelled, having to keep her hands on your waist to keep you up. “You need to take care of that boy, angel. That silly idiot, okay? We’ll teach you.”

That’s when you realized — you had taken the bait. You caved right into what they wanted and needed. 

And you would never have any way out every fucking again.

You broke into sobs, the sick high of pleasure and despair mixing into the heat of sex that lingeried and fully thrusted into the bedroom. Your body shook with anxiety, your climax rattling in you and took control over your nerves, the girls always finding a way to take a note. 

“No, you don’t get to cum,” Ellie spat, her hand wrapping around your neck from behind you, and you gasped when her fingers pressed into your throat; hard enough to leave bruising or any fingerprints. “Be a good girl, lamb. Don’t disappoint us more than you already have.”

“Please let me cum,” you managed to cry out, her strength tightening around your throat, almost slowly cutting off any airway. “Please!”

“Why should we let you cum, bunny?” Abby panted, pinching at one of your nipples. “You don’t think this is fun? Us using and breaking you?”

It didn’t take sex anymore in order for them to find their cruel ways to psychologically torture you, but rather mock and taunt at you for everything and anything. They did it with Brandon, Delilah, and Jasmine — everyone would be killed in front of you because it was the only way for them to break you into submission. 

You came anyways, and despite that they would usually stop and punish you further, they used it to their advantage and Abby’s put her hands on top of Ellie’s, both of them choking you and fucking harder into your sore, ruined holes, and your vision went blurry and you were croaking out cries and moans. It was sick that a part of you truly liked them being this vile and vicious with you, and that it would always get you off, but it was scarier that they would go further than this in the future. 

The violence was covered by affection, and now by marriage.

Abby and Ellie spent weeks teaching you how to use a gun on someone, be sleath and quick with it. They wanted you to kill Vincent Hayes at the very second you could, and be out of sight when you did it. You knew you couldn’t do it; you weren’t like your girlfriends. That’s why they liked you to begin with, because you were the complete opposite of them, and at some point, that must have changed. 

For those weeks, you spent time in isolation wondering what to do, what you could do without getting yourself or others killed in the process. You would stare at the ring, playing with it, and break into tears whenever your partners were around.

You were a hostage in a relationship for eternity, and the thought of escaping once more did cross your mind, but you knew what happened last time when you tried to; who knows, they could kill your parents just so you could come crawling back to them. 

You avoided any discussions about the wedding or future plans because you were slowly coming to terms with your decisions, with what you wanted to do, because you just simply couldn’t think about that. 

You sat in your parents home, telling the girls your mom wanted a spa day together in order to avoid suspicion; after all, you were doing well playing the sweet fiancée. 

Vincent sat next to you, a cup of coffee in his hands. “You can talk to me.”

“I want out,” you mumbled. “But I need you to do one thing.”

“Well, what is it?”

You gnawed onto your cheek, inhaling sharply. “I need you to kill me.”

Silence filled the room. 

“What the fuck did you say?” Vincent asked.

“I said I need—”

“No, I heard you. You just must forget that your girlfriends are insane, and will do worse to me,” he stated, and you looked at him. “Why do you want to die?”

“Not actually kill me,” you said. “I—I just need a way out, and death sounds fleeting and the only way.”

Vincent joined the quiet that tumbled back into the living room, the two of you now staring down into your cups of coffee. After what felt like hours moving by, he hums. “Okay, I’ll do it,” he tells you, and though your heart sank, you nodded. “Think of it as an eye for an eye because of Brandon. I’ll take what is most precious to your girlfriends.”

“Okay, so how should we do this then?” You wondered.

Vincent got up from the couch, putting down his cup. “You’ll come to find out. I have to make this even. But you should talk to those detectives if you want a full clean slate.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to do this,” you started, taking a sip of your coffee. “My death could be planted on them. I’m a heiress, and that would be bigger news. I’ll leave something behind to admit Abby and Ellie’s full guilt for Brandon's death.”

“No way you would do that. You wouldn’t betray them like that,” he shot back, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t leave anything behind; how do I know you aren’t setting me up?”

“I am betraying them by finding the only way out, and I know you want revenge,” you professed, realizing how calm and collected you were talking about potentially dying for good. 

It was a suicide ideation, yes, but maybe Vincent would find a way to sympathize; you believed in that. 

“This is the revenge I had in mind.”

You tilted your head. “It’s the perfect revenge. We both get something out of it.”

“Do you want to actually die, or are you trying to fake it?” Vincent wondered, and you shrugged your shoulders. “Do I get something from you for admission either way?”

You nodded, putting down your coffee and stood up. “I will leave something behind in my bedroom after it is done. But do not betray me, or I will fucking kill you instead.”

“That’s not very fair.”

“It is fair,” you said, brushing past him as you took the cups to the kitchen and he followed behind you. “Now if you excuse me, I have to prepare any finalizations.”

Vincent found himself out, and you went back to your bedroom, spending hours putting together forms and transferring money into offshore accounts, and even called over your family lawyer to discuss a will. The lawyer sat in front of you at the kitchen table, files out in front of you. “May I ask why you are doing this?” She asked, sliding over the paperwork. “I mean, you are so young and people usually prepare a will when they are about to die. Your parents have a will with your name in it.”

“I understand that, but I just want to be prepared,” you said, grabbing your pen. “I want all my profits to go to charities for women in shelters, to under class schools for children where they will be rewarded with new books and computers for them; along with fixing up any structures they need done. A grand total of 20K will be rewarded to research, world troubles, and more. I have put it all down.”

The lawyer knew not to pry any further, and pointed to where you exactly needed to sign, and you did it with such ease, finally accepting what was coming to the end. You were tying up all loose ends that you needed to before Vincent would take charge of your fate. 

After the lawyer left and you signed away your destiny, you went back into your bedroom and grabbed a hard drive stick, putting it into the side of your computer.

 You turned on the recording, and you sucked in a harsh, deep breath that came out shaky and unsteady. “Abby Anderson and Ellie Williams killed Brandon James. There was a bloody-stained shirt that had his blood on it that was burned by them only a year after his death. I know this because I told them what Brandon was doing, and they got killed. I know the other people they have injured and killed before and after him. This is my admission of guilt.”

You paused, staring blankly at the computer screen, and you cleared your throat shortly after. “They are violent killers; there is no innocence in them or this case. By the time this has turned over to the courts, I will be gone. But I will not leave without confessing the only sin that has been killing me for months.”

You stopped the recording, and made sure it was filed into the hard drive, putting it in a box on your vanity; easy access for Vincent to get ahold of. 

After your admission, you took a walk into the bustling city of Manhattan, having your own headphones in to take away distractions or thoughts of anything that was to come. The girls spammed your phone, but you decided to go on airplane mode, and let yourself cruise around the city you were raised and born in. 

If your death would be soon, you rather take in any last memories. Your walk went on and on, losing any track of time as you were on it. You would go home, get changed for bed, and go to sleep with the decisions you decided to commit to. 

You let yourself walk and wander for hours, grabbing ice cream on your way to home. The sweet flavor gave you sweet memories of your childhood; how your dad would take you out for ice cream and sweets whenever you did well in elementary school, or how your mom would let you mix candy into a huge bag whenever you had a bad day. Those were the parents you always remembered and wanted back, but when their careers and success became bigger than you, they had shut and tossed you out. 

If they hadn’t, maybe then Abby and Ellie would have not come into your life, and ruined it all. 

You tossed your cup of ice cream into the bin outside your penthouse hotel, and the busboy opened the door for you as you thanked him on your way inside. The building felt colder and eerie, seeming as if no one lived inside and you were the only resident. 

You were sure you were overthinking it after the day you had, and were just overly tired. After all, it was New York, and people were always going out. 

You grabbed the elevator, and selected the floor of your parents’ penthouse, your hands in the pockets of your coat with your headphones and phone tucked inside of it. It took a few minutes until you reached the floor, and when you walked in, you heard the sound of glass clinking together. You paused inside the elevator, hesitating to get inside your home.

Silence entered back into the room, and you assumed it could have been your mom pouring herself a cup of wine and was making a ruckus for no reason. You sighed, walking inside anyways and when you dropped your tote bag on top of the island, you found the horror scene and sight of your butchered parents. 

Your scream ripped out of your throat, falling down into their blood as you first moved to your mom. “Mom, mama!” You screamed, crying and panicking. You picked her up, lifting her into your lap, your blood-covered hand brushing her hair. “Mama, please wake up! Come on, come on, you’re okay.”

You turned over to your dad, letting your head rest on his chest which was repeatedly stabbed at. You sobbed into him, grasping onto his shirt. Your jeans soaked in their pool of blood, and you shivered, wanting to cradle into their embrace again.

Now what was there to live for?

“Eye for an eye,” a voice came behind you, and before you could see who it was, your vision went cold and black.

Waking up from a concussion was more hellish than anything.

Your eyes took their time to adjust to fluorescent lightning, feeling loose ropes around your wrists and ankles, a throbbing ache in your frontal cortex. You felt nauseous and feeble, like death was reaching out at you, and about to take you.

The second your vision and memory was intact altogether, you realized you weren't in your home anymore, or hovering over your deceased parents. Instead, you were in a quiet, dimmed room as you were strapped and hostaged to a chair, and you groaned.

“Where the fuck am I?” You groaned. 

“I brought you here,” Vincent’s voice erupted through the room, and came in front of your eyesight. “I told you it would happen soon.”

You swallowed thickly, and hummed. “You killed my parents?”

He nodded.

“That wasn’t the fucking deal,” you spat. “My parents had no part!”

“Killing you was just not enough for me,” Vincent stated, and you fidgeted with the ropes. “You need to know what lose truly feels like. How it killed me when my best friend died.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

“The deal was I'll kill you,” he recalled, and you groaned. “But that’s just too easy. I want to have fun with it.”

Maybe he was just as fucked as your girlfriends. 

“If you kick or bite, I’ll hit you,” he threatened as he moved over to you and slowly took off the ropes, you staring at him while he did it. “Play nice.”

“I could rip out your eyes and eat them right now!” You snapped, and he chuckled. “You are such a fucking asshole. I hope you see Brandon in hell.”

Vincent could only then grab a fistful of your hair, using it to crane you in whatever direction that he took you in, the two of you leaving the room you were trapped in just a second ago. You moved into another room later, and then found your girlfriends tied to chairs, and clearly unconscious.

“Abby! Els!” You shouted, sprinting over to the middle of them, shaking them by their legs. “Hey hey, wake up, baby. Come on, wake up.”

“I took pride in knowing I was able to overpower them,” Vincent confessed, and you peered over your shoulder back at him, shaking your head. “I just needed an extra pair of hands to help me out; they are a bit feisty.”

Ellie and Abby slowly awoke out of their unconscious slumber, taking their time to adjust to their surroundings. “Baby?” Ellie whispered, and you smiled, nodding. “What’s going on? What the actual fuck?”

“We are about to play russian roulette,” Vincent grabbed a gun out of the back of his pocket; a revolver being loaded with clearly only a single bullet. “I am going to answer questions; if we are all honest, I won’t kill your girlfriend. If we aren’t, I’ll make sure she is tortured in front of you, and she kills herself.”

Ellie and Abby paused, registering what deal he had just made until they looked back at you, pure concern and disappointment in their faces. “What have you done, bunny?” Abby asked, and for the first time in a while, they looked panicked and scared.

You retreated backwards, and stood up, now standing center in the middle of the room. Vincent came to the side of you, feeling the cold tip of the gun pressed up against your temple, and you sucked in every despair and anxiety that ran through you.

“How many people have you killed?” Vincent asked.

Quiet. Silence. An oath of silence.

“I’ll blow her brains out right now.”

“About a dozen, maybe fifteen. Including your shit friend,” Ellie confessed, and you sighed in relief. The revolver luckily didn’t click. “We tortured every one of them, some of them were taped.”

“What?” You gasped.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ellie brushed it off, clearly unfazed.

“What did you do Brandon?” Vincent asked another.

“Just fucking killed him, man,” Abby answered, and revolver clicked, but nothing came out. “Fuck, okay! We burned a cigarette, cut his tongue — it was a while ago, we honestly forgot.”

“You killed my best friend like he was just cattle,” Vincent spat out, and you trembled. “You’re lucky I don’t kill your girlfriend, even after she betrayed you.”

“What is he talking about?” Abby asked.

You would rather kill yourself at this point because he knew what you were referring to. You were the reason you got them into this spot, that they were so blinded by their love for you, you casted them under this spell that had caught them in these chairs, and were possibly about to witness you die in front of them.

“I… I signed my will. I told Vincent an eye for an eye,” you sucked in a harsh breath. “You were part of that agreement, but not this shit. He even killed my parents.”

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Ellie shouted; she had never shouted like this before. Her voice was laced with pure distraught and anger, like she was willing to kill you herself at this point. “What the fuck, what the fuck! Are you fucking stupid!”

“Oh, don’t act like you are such saints yourself!” You seethed, scoffing in disbelief. “You only married me so I wouldn’t leave your asses again! You didn’t marry me out of love, you married me out of pure Stockholm syndrome! You use me to fulfill your need and drive of violence; you need me as an excuse to kill people!”

The pair went absolutely silent, and that validated everything Jasmine had told you long ago. 

“New game; I am going to leave this gun with you,” Vincent took it out, showing it off as he untied you a few seconds afterwards. “Your little girlfriend will decide who gets to live.” He slowly walked out of the small four by four room, only then tossing the gun your way shortly after he walked only, the trigger off and the door closed and locked.

It was you, a gun, and the loves of your life. It was now a sicker, cruel game between the three of you. You put the gun in your back pocket, going on to untie your girlfriends as they massaged their wrists and glared at you with utter betrayal, and slight disgust. 

You made sure to careen yourself backwards at a steady pace, getting the gun out and instantly got the gun out of your pocket, pointing it up and direct at them. They took rapid notice, both of them raising their arms up in self defense and protection.

“Okay, bunny… I know you are probably really scared right now,” Abby started off, and your hands became shaky, the sweat from your palms forming around the handle. “Just give us the gun, and we will figure it out together, okay?”

“Please don’t make this any harder,” you whimpered, sniffling. “I should do this — you guys have put me through Hell.”

“Little one, we care about you so much,” Ellie added, and your gaze shifted over to her. “You know we do; from the first moment we saw you, we finally understood our purpose for existing in this world, and that was to protect you, to care only for you.”

Your body shivered with anxiety, your brain trying to refuse anything they were both saying to you. “You don’t understand anything,” you whispered, and you tackled with multiple options to end this moment; shoot them and kill them, shoot them in the legs and run off, or end your own life. 

If you were to shoot them and run away again, where could you possibly hide? There would never be anywhere for you to go. You needed a way out but there wasn’t any, and that made you face only one true fate for yourself; you had to take yourself out. 

You turned the gun onto yourself, the head kissing your temple.

“Angel, no no! Put down the gun!” Abby shouted, and Ellie carefully stepped over to you. “Els is gonna take the gun, and we are gonna get out of here. We are gonna go home and pretend none of this happened, and move on to our happy lives.”

“I have to do this, I have to!” You sobbed, and they shook their heads. “If I leave and run away, you guys will find me and kill anyone who stands in the way! You always do that, and make me witness it as your sick punishment!”

“Baby…” Ellie beckoned, and her eyes softened to you. “No more killing, no more hurting. We promise. We knew that chapter was over when we asked you to be our wife. We want to move elsewhere with you, and begin our exciting new life.”

You couldn’t decipher genuinity or manipulation that played a role in her tone, and you could not tell if she was being honest with you, given how many epiphanies you’d been having ever since the proposal. Maybe Ellie was being right for once; the way she glanced at you was pure and worried, almost like she wanted to embrace you, and let you cry into her hold. 

Maybe that little hope that danced in your heart was right, and going to come true. 

You slowly put the gun down, sniffling and nodding. “No more killing please,” you begged, hiccuping and sniffling. “I can’t take any more of it.”

“Just us and our happy life from here on out, babydoll,” Abby reassured, and you nodded, frowning. You held the gun out into her reach, and the second she grabbed it, the door swung open to reveal Vincent with his own gun.

“Eye for a fucking eye,” he said, and an immediate pain stung to the middle of your abdomen. You stood in shock, every nerve going numb and your brain falling quiet on you. Your hand touched down to where the ache and throbbing sensation formed itself, only to reveal a coat of blood. 

Vincent ran off before the girls could get to him, and their attention landed back onto you when they heard your body thud against the ground. You stared up at the ceiling, your vision blurring in and out, and you felt eerily cold. 

“Eyes here, baby,” Ellie coeed, Abby ripping a piece of her shirt off and putting it over the wound, and applied pressure. “There we go, you are gonna be just fine.”

“There’s too much,” Abby panicked. “Too much fucking blood— I’m gonna fucking kill that fucker—”

“It hurts,” you muttered, breathing heavily. “It hurts— Please, make it go away.”

“We’re trying, angel, just keep breathing,” Abby worriedly smiled, Ellie stroking the top of your head. “You are gonna be okay.”

You just nodded, even though the fluorescent lighting was dimming and their panicked voices slowly turned into echoes, your ears ringing. If there is a Heaven, you hoped it’d be kinder to you than all your years were.

Privilege does not give you anything; you have to exchange many of it, just for a little something beautiful.

ONE YEAR LATER.

“Please rise before the court,” the judge said, and everyone stood. “This trial was once again complex and complicated, I will say that. The tape we got from the deceased was hearsay, and without her here with us, the jury had to make a decision based on other testimonies. Jury, do you have a decision?”

“Yes, your honor,” a juror lady stood, a card in hand. 

“What is your defense?” He asked.

“On behalf of the New York vs. Anderson and Williams, we hereby find them not guilty on multiple counts of first degree murder, manslaughter, torture,” the juror said, and the pair sighed in relief, knowing that their plans could fall back into place. 

When the tape was stolen and found from Vincent, he turned it over to the police which then resulted in the girls arrested. The trial took a while to begin, evidence being enough to upstart one, but they knew it would not conclude how Vincent intended for it, too.

You died horrifically before their eyes, and a funeral was held for you, and everyone attended for you; they knew you would have loved the turn out. You would have loved how Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley played for you, and how it is the only way they can easily cry.

But Vincent decided to go hide away, and what they did best was play cat and mouse. Vincent Hayes thought he could escape by murdering you, and trying to turn over your partners, but they love a good chase, and better yet – a needed murder.

“Miss Anderson and Williams, you are hereby dismissed and free,” the judge announced, and they cheered, hugging their top-tier lawyers. 

When Abby and Ellie left the courthouse, they took a trip to the cemetery and visited your grave. They sat down on the moppy gross, setting down flowers near your headstone.

‘Beloved Daughter, Friend, and Wife’

“We did it, angel,” Abby said. “We did it – and now we are going to avenge you. We promise.”

Abby and Ellie knew what they were going to do, and how they were going to get Vincent Hayes. They knew at the end of the day, it was the only way to remember you, and seek justice for your soul.

To the ends of the Earth. 

[mwphisto]

There is something so thrilling about trying to be quiet.

Something that urges Caleb to work harder, move faster, push the limits. Until you have no choice but to bite him to break him out of his trance before you really do get caught.

Grandma Josephine is right down the hall, after all. How shameful would it be if she caught her two adoptive children naked in the other’s bed.

But, for Caleb? That was part of the appeal. Some twisted part of his mind wanted to get caught by the old lady. And judging by the way you always found yourself in this position? You found the risk appealing too.

Your semester had come to an end, now you could spend the summer months in Linkon. Caleb’s training had also gone on break, giving him roughly a month before he needed to return to Skyhaven for more grueling work.

Two months apart… of course you two were jumping at the chance to be alone. Bidding grandma Josephine an early good night — y’know, the traveling was so exhausting that neither of you could wait to collapse in bed.

…yeah, okay.

God, Caleb wasn’t sure how he managed to contain himself from pouncing on you at the train station.

Hell, he just may have if Josephine hadn’t been accompanying you on the platform.

Given the amount of eye contact and silent conversations passed between the two of you? You weren’t doing much better. So much so that you and Caleb ended up in the front seat with a clueless Josephine in the back.

One hand on the wheel, the other sneakily resting on your bare thigh. Calloused fingers inching up…up…up…and— “Caleb, dear. How has training been?” Oh fuck off!

Some way, somehow, you two survived — barely.

Only thirty minutes after pretending to go to bed, you were slipping out of your bedroom window and shuffling along the slanted roof to tap on Caleb’s.

Everything from there was a bit of a blur. Hands and teeth, lips searing into your skin and then melding to your own. The familiar taste of Caleb, sticky sweet like the apple juice gran had bought just for him. How you had missed it so dearly over the last two months. Dreamt of it.

“Ah, ah… don’t try and hide.”

Somehow, you had gotten here. All clothing shed and discarded around his bedroom floor.

Your back pressed to his broad chest, your legs spread so wide it nearly hurt. You couldn’t close them if you wanted to, Caleb’s much larger ones slung over them and braced on the sheets so you were trapped by his body instead.

Perfectly spread out for him, all his to you and play with. The thought had him twitching against your back, smearing more sticky precum between heated skin.

His hands were both occupied, one roughly playing with your breast, the other running two fingers between slick folds. “You’re so soft, pip. Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy.” You had half the mind left to complain about him saying he just missed your cunt, but all the came out was a whimper.

Still, Caleb knew. Somehow he always did.

“And…” a kiss on your cheek, his nose nuzzling it a second later. “…of course I missed you.” His fingers pressed to your entrance, heat radiating and slick leaking. The pressure made you groan, hips weakly jerking forward yet the bastard had yet to slip them in. Just toying with you and you were completely drenched. It was humiliating.

“You’re not gonna return the favor?” Caleb’s voice was a warm whisper against your ear, his fingers rubbing up against your entrance, just barely slipping inside. “Wha…?” But you understood when he began to chuckle.

“Tell me how much you missed me, pip. And maybe you’ll get what you’re looking for.” Your cunt was aching too much for you to dare put up a fight. “I missed you so much Caleb…” a shuddering breath leaves you as his fingers slid back up to circle your clit. Just enough friction—

“I-I slept in your shirts until they smelt more like me than you… my roommate kept prying y’kn-oh-ow…” your entire body shivered at the pleasure that zapped up your spine. “Kept wanting to meet you, I told her you were a pilot and she was s-swooning…” God you were getting drunk off the pleasure and he had barely done anything.

“…so proud you’re all mine, Caleb.”

You nearly screamed as he plunged two fingers inside of your wet heat, the hand that had been groping your breast slapped over your mouth to successfully muffle it.

Caleb’s thrusts were unrelenting, fingers pounding into your cunt at such a speed your entire body was arching and squirming. Your hips were restless, legs attempting to snap shut as the pleasure was overwhelming.

Caleb’s legs stopped you, his breathing ragged at the sound of wet squelching. His fingers were hitting all the right spots, massaging your walls until you felt your arousal leaking out and down towards the sheets below.

Every thrust had the heel of his palm smacking your clit, shaking almost violently with the intensity of his movements. You swore you tasted blood as you bit down on your lip, nails digging into his forearm.

“You’re such a good girl, y’know that? This pretty pussy is taking my fingers so well even after months apart…” you couldn’t focus, not mentally or physically. Your eyes blurring as the tether pulled tighter and tighter.

You nearly feared the orgasm that was approaching you, already overwhelmed by the pleasure of Caleb finger fucking you. “Gonna cum all over my fingers?” The sounds were obscene at this point, so wet that you swore it was echoing off of his walls. “Y-yes!”

It was just a little too loud, and Caleb had been so distracted by the warmth encompassing his hand that he didn’t think to quiet you. “Sweetie? Caleb honey? Is everything alright?” Everything froze, from your heart beating to Caleb’s fingers in your cunt.

“I thought you two went to bed… you know you don’t have to sneak around if you want to hang out.” The doorknob jiggled, luckily Caleb had half the mind to lock it before. “Sorry Gran…” you somehow recovered faster.

“Finally won against Caleb… got a little too excited.” Slowly, you guided his hands into moving again. “She’s lost three rounds.” Caleb added, smiling against your skin as your walls suctioned to his fingers. “Just don’t stay up too late.”

You both acknowledged her with a good night, faces burning with embarrassment at nearly getting caught. What if Caleb hadn’t locked the door?

“Someone got too excited.”

He’s biting your ear, hand resuming their brutal pace and before you know it, you’re coming all over his fingers with his other hand pressed to your throat. You couldn’t get a sound out if you wanted too now.

The bedding is ruined, and Caleb doesn’t seem to care one bit. His fingers restarting their mission to get you to squirt again. This time, a third finger slipped in.

“Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock. It’s been a few months, can’t risk hurting ya.”

[cosmicjoke]

I actually have a scene I wrote in my story “This Life, After” that’s similar to this fanart, haha. If anyone wants to read it, it’s below the cut:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37903426/chapters/94653316

Levi’s never seen anything like it.

A giant, man-made pool of clear, blue water. It stretches nearly the length of the entire room, from end to end, the color so bright, it seems unnatural to Levi.

“That’s the chlorine,” Onyankopon tells him.

Levi looks up at him, frowning.

He don’t know what that is.

“It’s a chemical they put in the water to sanitize it, basically,” Onyan explains, smiling. “It keeps bacteria from forming.”

“… Oh,” Levi says.

He’s happy to hear that.

There had been a pond back on Paradis that the Scouts had sometimes used for recreation. It had never seemed clean to Levi, the way they would wade into it and splash around, half the time naked. Hange always tried to get him to come in, but Levi had always refused, standing by the shore, scowling and frustrated. Some of the other soldiers used to harass him about it, saying he was a killjoy, saying he didn’t know how to have fun.

They didn’t seem to understand how water could carry diseases. Hange knew, but the others didn’t.

He knew. He knew from growing up Underground. Knew better than to ever drink from the stagnant pools of filthy water that you found in the streets. Even when he’d been dying of thirst, more often than he’d like to remember, he’d known better.

Anyway, he hadn’t known how to swim. Still doesn’t. That’s what they’re here for. Onyan and the kids wanted to teach him. It was good physical exercise that would be easy on his joints and injuries, according to the doctors, though he couldn’t do it by himself, on account of his seizures. The pills’d been helping. Hadn’t had nothin’ too severe of late, but… he knows he could drown, if it were to happen to him in the water. So he’s gotta’ have people with him. Gotta’ keep to the shallow part of the pool.

But Levi was desperate to move his body in any way, at this point. If learning to swim could help him, even if he’d always need help, he was willing.

Onyan had called ahead and rented out the pool for a few hours, so it was just gonna’ be the four of them.

“Let’s get changed,” Onyan says. “Gabi and Falco are already back getting dressed.”

Levi stiffens slightly at Onyan’s words, hesitation coming over him.

He hadn’t thought much about it when everyone had first suggested swimming to him, but he’d realized after agreeing to try it that he was gonna’ have to wear swim trunks.

The kids were gonna’ see his body.

He’d put on some weight, but… he knows what he looks like. Knows his body still looks sick.

Onyan was used to it, but the kids haven’t seen what he looks like since he’d started really dropping in weight.

Beyond that, he can’t get it outta’ his head that he looks fat. He knows he doesn’t, knows it ain’t really possible, with how light he is, but… but he’d started to gain weight in his midsection, and seemingly nowhere else, and every time he looked down at his stomach, all he saw was how fat it was, stickin’ out over the waistband of his pants.

The doctors said that was normal. That once he started gainin’ weight back, it’d all go to his belly first, before distributing more evenly.

Knowin’ that doesn’t really help him feel better though.

He thinks he must look disgusting.

And then there were all the scars.

He already had plenty from his life growing up Underground. Scars from knife fights, brawls in the streets and in pubs. Plenty of scars from Kenny, too. Scars from after, from his time in the SC.

But the scars that stood out most now were the ones from all the surgeries he’s had done. All the times his body had needed to be sliced open or stitched back together because he was bleeding to death, inside and out.

They were ugly, and Levi was plenty ugly enough on his own.

He doesn’t know how the kids will react to seeing him. He doesn’t want to frighten ‘em.

He doesn’t say any of this as Onyan takes him to the changing room, but Onyan seems to pick up on his reluctance anyway.

“You feeling okay?” he asks.

Levi nods, frowning.

“… I guess I just don’t want the kids to be freaked out by what I look like, now.”

Onyankopon’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Levi, they won’t be,” he promises, “but if you’re worried, I brought a tank top that you can wear.”

“Yeah… maybe,” Levi agrees. “Thanks.”

He can’t quite keep the reluctance out of his voice. He still isn’t sure.

But he doesn’t say anything more, letting Onyan help him dress, keeping his eyes fixed to the wall. He hates looking at himself now. He hates how pathetically frail his body has become.

Onyankopon handles removing the catheter tubing and bag, taping the Foley catheter against his skin.

Levi don’t like to look at it all. It’s disgusting, he thinks. His face heats with shame every time the bag needs to be emptied out. He guesses it was better than pissin’ all over himself, but still, any time he let himself notice it, all it did was remind him that he didn’t have enough control over his body these last months to keep from soilin’ himself like a damned baby.

He’s meant to get it removed on Monday.

The doctors wanna’ see if his incontinence has resolved itself, yet. They think it should’ve by now.

Levi think’s he’ll be happy to be rid of it, though he can’t help worryin’, neither. What if he can’t hold his piss, still? What if he ends up pissin’ all over himself, like before?

He don’t even wanna’ think about it.

He pushes the fears to the back of his mind, tryin’ to focus on the present.

He feels exposed in nothing but the tank top and shorts Onyan gets him into now, feet bare against the footrests of his chair. Onyan doesn’t seem to have any, similar insecurities, comfortable in only a pair of swim trunks.

Levi admires him, with his broad shoulders and chest. Levi keeps his own arms crossed over himself as they make their way back to the pool.

Gabi and Falco are already waiting.

Falco’s got one of those plastic beach balls in his hands, and he smiles when he sees them.

“I thought, once we get Mr. Levi more acquainted with the water, we could toss the ball around a bit,” he says.

“That sounds like fun,” Onyankopon says.

“What’re those?” Levi nods at the rubbery-lookin’ things in Gabi’s hands.

“Oh, these are floats for you, Mr. Levi,” she explains. “You fit ‘em over your arms and they help keep you floating, so you don’t sink like a stone,” she laughs, and Levi frowns.

“Well, there’s not much chance of that, anyway,” Onyankopon adds quickly, “since we’ll be keeping to the shallow end for now. But yes, Lee, we thought it would be best for you to wear these, just until you get the hang of swimming. We also have a tube you can put around your waist.”

Levi sees it, sittin’ there on one of the benches, lookin’ like some kinda’ rubber doughnut.

Gabi comes over, and she don’t ask before she starts fittin’ the float things over his arms.

Levi resists the urge to pull away, fearful she’ll feel the fat on his arms.

It’s ridiculous. When he looks down at ‘em, they look they should belong on a skeleton.

He thinks the tube round his waist will be a tight fit, but it slips around him easy and hangs loose and low on his hips.

“Ready?” Onyankopon asks, and Levi nods, tamping down the nervous flutter in his gut as Onyan picks him up and begins wading into the pool, holding him in his arms.

Levi expects it to be cold, but instead it’s lukewarm. He has his arm around Onyan’s neck, clinging to him, and Onyan keeps his arms secure around Levi’s torso. He doesn’t let go.

Gabi and Falco follow behind, splashing excitedly into the water and swimming easily out into the deep end.

Levi watches after them, happy to see their good time.

“I won’t let go until you ask me to,” Onyan says softly to him,

“Okay,” Levi answers, grateful.

//

Levi learns quickly.

Onyankopon can’t say he’s surprised.

Within half an hour, he’s got more than the basic movement down, the only thing holding him back from swimming out with the same power in his stroke as Gabi and Falco the persisting weakness in his legs. Onyankopon keeps an arm around him as Levi swims in place. He gets tired quickly, but he tells Onyankopon he can let him go.

Onyankopon isn’t so sure, but he does as Levi asks, staying close as Levi hovers in the water, kicking his legs and wading with his arms. He has trouble keeping his balance because of the weakness, but the floats help.

“How do you like it?” Onyankopon asks.

Levi blinks up at him, and nods.

“It’s nice,” he says, and Onyankopon smiles, reaching out and smoothing Levi’s hair back from his forehead.

“We can come whenever you like, after I get off from work, though I won’t be able to always rent the place out like this, I’m afraid.”

Levi shrugs, concentrating on his movement.

“Mm… maybe,” he says.

He seems content to just float there like that, practicing, until Gabi and Falco come swimming over.

“Wanna’ toss the ball around, Mr. Levi?” Gabi asks.

“… Okay, Levi answers.

Onyankopon holds Levi from behind, the four of them forming a circle, batting the ball from one to the other.

Levi has a little trouble, but nobody says anything.

It’s fun, and relaxing.

Onyankopon knows Levi had been worried about the kids seeing his body, but there’d been nothing to worry about. Gabi and Falco understood, and even if they didn’t, they had too much respect for Levi to say anything or be insensitive about it.

They take a break for a bit after that, Onyankopon holding Levi against himself as he sits on the steps along the pool’s perimeter, the two of them watching Gabi and Falco splash at each other, laughing and chasing each other around.

Levi shifts in his hold, squirming, and Onyankopon frowns, glancing down at him.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Just… my shirt…”

“Your shirt?” Onyankopon questions, unsure.

“… Don’t like the way it feels, clingin’ to my skin, ‘s’all.”

“Do you want to take it off?”

He feels Levi stiffen in his hold.

“… Nah… no,” he answers after a moment.

Onyankopon’s frown deepens.

“It’s okay if you do, Lee,” he says. “Honey… nobody’s going to judge you.”

Levi is silent for a long, few seconds.

“… I look disgustin’,” he whispers at last, and Onyankopon feels his heart sink.

“Lee… no you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do,” Levi insists, “Onyan, they’ll see me. They’ll see how fat my stomach is.”

“Levi,” Onyankopon starts, trying to keep the pain from his voice, “baby… you’re not fat. We’ve talked about this, haven’t we? It’s just the way it looks because it’s going to take your body some time to adjust to the weight gain. It all goes to your midsection initially, as a way of protecting your internal organs.”

Levi doesn’t say anything at first, and Onyankopon opens his mouth to prompt him, worry churning in his gut.

“… It just… looks fat,” he suddenly whispers.

Onyankopon bites the inside of his cheek.

He doesn’t know what to say.

He can’t tell Levi it isn’t true.

Levi did have what appeared to be a gut, but only because the rest of his body was still so thin. He didn’t have any fat anywhere else, so it looked like a lot on his midsection.

He’s tried explaining that to Levi before, and he thinks Levi had understood. It was just… he knows it does little to dampen the embarrassment Levi feels over his appearance.

“Baby… they won’t care,” he tries instead. “You know they won’t.”

He feels Levi shudder against him.

“… Okay,” he finally breathes.

“Okay?” Onyankopon asks, just to be certain, and Levi nods.

Onyankopon helps him out of his shirt, then, a swell of pride in his chest for Levi’s courage. He knows how hard this is for him.

Levi folds his arms over himself, plainly nervous, and Onyankopon smooths his hands over his shoulders, hoping it relaxes him.

It seems to work a little, Levi’s arms around his torso gradually loosening.

Falco comes swimming over, Gabi close behind.

“You two want to come back in the water?” the boy asks, smiling up at them.

He doesn’t show any reaction to Levi’s body, or say anything about him now being bare-chested, nor does Gabi, and Onyankopon feels relieved at that. He’d known there wasn’t anything to worry over in that regard.

“What do you think, Lee? You want to go in again?”

Levi nods, and Onyankopon smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of his head before wading back into the pool with him.

//

Around noon, they have lunch.

Somethin’ called pizza, which Levi ain’t never had.

Some kinda’ cheese pie over a breaded crust.

It tastes good.

Tastes so good, Levi has to keep himself from eating the whole damn thing.

Onyan and the kids smile at him when he polishes off his first slice in a few bites, and Levi realizes he’s taken up a second without even thinking of it.

He guesses that’s a good thing.

That’s what he’s meant to be doing. What everyone tells him he should be doing. Eating without guilt.

But the moment he’s thought it, the feelings come back. That he shouldn’t be doing this. That he needs to do something to get rid of the calories he’s just consumed.

He thinks, suddenly, he should toss the slice in his hand away and make himself puke back up what he’s just forced down his throat.

Only, he looks again at the smiling faces of Onyankopon, of Gabi and Falco… of his family, he thinks. His family. And he knows, if he were to do that, their smiles would fade. He knows it would hurt them, and that’s the last thing he wants.

So, he forces the thoughts away and continues eating the slice in his hand. Lets himself enjoy it. Enjoy the flavor of it over his tongue. Makes himself ignore the voice in his head, screaming at him to stop, the dread cresting in his throat.

He’s not going to ruin this. He’s not going to spoil what’s been a good morning for all of them, just ‘cause he can’t shut his own, stupid brain up.

So, he eats two slices, and half of another one, and he enjoys it.

It’s a good day, Levi thinks.

It’s a good day.

learning

[wongyuseokie]

Theories & Heartstrings | k.m.g

Chapter 2: Cuddles and Chaos

Summary: As a writer with a mildly cynical take on love, you’ve always believed people have a “type”—a pattern they never stray from when it comes to dating. And Kim Mingyu? He’s the textbook definition of someone who wouldn’t go for someone like you, nor would you go for him. But you test your theory when a fateful run-in with your charming neighbour sparks an unexpected attraction.

The plan? Go on dates with him and count how many it takes before your heart gets involved—if it ever does. But Mingyu is unpredictable, effortlessly breaking down your carefully constructed walls with every smile, every late-night conversation, every moment that feels too easy to be just an experiment.

The real problem? Secrets never stay secrets for long. And when Mingyu finds out the truth behind your so-called theory, will it prove you right, or that love doesn’t follow the rules you thought it did?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut

Word Count: 16,477 words

Pairings: Neighbor! Mingyu x Journalist! Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Neighbours AU! Fake Dating AU! (but only one is fake dating. It’ll make sense when you read it, lol). Non-Idol AU!. 

Content Warnings: There is slight body insecurity—it’s not much, but it’s a smidgen. She just feels insecure after seeing a pretty girl, but there is nothing graphic or too triggering. some jealousy (lies) ALOT of jealousy and petty ass fighting and just alot of drama. Alcohol consumption, food consumption. drama because yn thinks he’s cheating and he’s not she just wont let him explain. very heavy on the miscommunication. LOTS OF DRAMA, BUT YES THE STORY IS FINALLY BREWING HEHEHEH. LOTS OF ANGST AND HURT.

Smut Warnings: shower sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, big dick mingyu because duh. teasing, lots of it, mingyu is just so hot and yn is only human. facesitting because yay. very slight ass play, very slight. lots of sex ig, they're very horny. Author's Note 1: I'd be remiss if I didn't thank the lovely people who helped beta this monster of a story. thank you @lovetaroandtaemin @nebulousbrainsoup @strxwberry-skiess for your patience time and love thank you guys so much!! Author's Note 2: welp here it is guys my last fic, ever, but good news, this is only chapter 2, and the rate at which i keep increasing my word count, it'll be a while before this is all over. Series Masterlist

The following week had flown by, and before you knew it, the evening of the housewarming party had arrived. You found yourself in Mingyu’s kitchen, sleeves rolled up, meticulously pouring in the limes into the jug as while your other hand stirred a jug of freshly made cocktail mix. The sweet and citrusy aroma filled the room, and you couldn’t help but hum to yourself as you mixed the ingredients, tasting it with a little spoon to make sure it was just right.

In the living room, Mingyu was moving furniture around, occasionally stopping to check his phone for the playlist he had put together. You glanced over at him, watching as he adjusted the position of the coffee table for what had to be the third time.

“Gyu, it’s a housewarming, not a photo shoot,” you teased, grinning when he shot you a mock glare.

“It has to look nice,” he replied, half-serious, half-amused. “I can’t have people thinking I live like a caveman. Plus, Seokmin and Cheol will literally roast me if the place doesn’t look good.”

You laughed, wiping your hands on a towel before grabbing the cocktail shaker. “Trust me, no one’s going to notice the coffee table’s angle when they’re tipsy off these drinks. I’m making a batch of margaritas and something fruity for the lightweights.”

Mingyu raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a lightweight?”

You smirked. “I’ve seen you after a couple of shots. You’re definitely not the heavyweight you think you are.”

He put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “That’s a bold claim. I’ll prove you wrong tonight.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Sure, big guy. We’ll see who’s carrying who to bed later.”

Mingyu paused from his rearranging to lean against the doorway, watching you with a soft smile. “You look really cute when you’re bossing me around in my own apartment; you know that?”

You gave him a playful glare. “I’m just making sure this place doesn’t become a disaster zone. Someone has to keep you in check.”

He chuckled, walking over to help you slice the remaining fruit. “I’ll admit, I’m not the best party planner. You make it look easy.”

You shrugged, pouring the freshly mixed cocktail into a large glass dispenser. “It’s all about preparation. If you keep everyone’s glasses full, they’re happy. And if you have good snacks, they’ll never want to leave.”

Mingyu nodded, watching you expertly garnish the glasses with lime wedges and salt rims. “You’re a natural. Maybe you should be in charge of a ll our parties.”

You shot him a look. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want to do any of the work.”

He leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like watching you take charge. It’s... pretty hot.”

You bit back a smile, trying to focus on not spilling the drink you were pouring. “Save that energy for later. We’ve got a party to run.”

Mingyu smirked, finally relenting and heading back to finish hanging some lights above the window. You couldn’t help but glance at him as he stretched to hook the string of fairy lights, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal a sliver of toned skin. You shook your head, focusing back on the drinks.

After a few more minutes, Mingyu stepped back, admiring his handiwork. “Perfect. This place looks great. You think it’s good?”

You took a step back, surveying the room. The living room looked cozy yet lively, the fairy lights giving a warm glow, and the cocktail station was well-stocked. “It’s perfect. You did good.”

He looked at you, a hint of pride in his eyes. “We did good.”

You grinned, handing him a small glass of the margarita mix. “Taste test?”

He took a sip, eyes widening. “Okay, that’s dangerous. It’s way too good. People will be wasted in no time.”

“That’s the plan,” you joked, taking a small sip yourself and savouring the tangy flavour.

Mingyu took the opportunity to drape an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. “You know, you didn’t have to go all out. But I really appreciate it.”

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest for a moment. “I just wanted to make it nice. It’s your first party here, and I wanted it to feel special.”

He kissed the top of your head. “It already does. Because you’re here.”

You looked up at him, catching the fondness in his gaze. For a moment, you forgot about the party entirely, lost in the way his eyes softened when they met yours.

After making sure the cocktails were perfectly set up and the living room was finally arranged to Mingyu’s satisfaction, you stretched your arms over your head and glanced at the clock.

“Alright, I should probably go back to my place and shower, get ready,” you said, wiping your hands on the dish towel and giving Mingyu a small smile.

He looked up from where he was fiddling with a Bluetooth speaker, his brows lifting. “You’re not just gonna rock the oversized T-shirt and sweatpants look to the party?”

You snorted. “As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think your friends would appreciate my just-rolled-out-of-bed aesthetic.”

He smirked, eyes trailing over you for a moment longer than necessary. “I dunno, I think it’s pretty cute.”

Your cheeks warmed, but you kept your cool. “I’ll be back in a bit. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

Mingyu shot you a cheeky salute. “No promises.”

You rolled your eyes and headed out the door, crossing the hall back to your own apartment. Once inside, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Being around Mingyu for too long was like standing too close to a fire — all-consuming and just a little too hot to handle. After grabbing a clean towel and some comfy clothes, you made your way to the bathroom. As the hot water poured down, you couldn’t help but replay moments from earlier. The way Mingyu had looked at you while you were making cocktails, how his touch lingered just a bit longer than usual. You bit your lip to hide the stupid smile spreading across your face.

Once you’d washed away the sweat and stress of the afternoon, you wrapped yourself in a towel and headed back to your bedroom, still combing through your wet hair with your fingers. You opened your closet, glancing through your options and mumbling to yourself.

“Something cute, but not too dressy... not too casual either... ugh.”

You’d barely pulled out a dress to inspect it when a knock sounded at your door. You froze for a second, heart racing. Quickly making sure the towel was secure, you called out. “One sec!”

You tiptoed over, peeking through the peephole to see Mingyu standing on the other side, looking far too relaxed in his own sweats and a plain white T-shirt. You cracked open the door, peering out. “Gyu? What are you doing here?”

He grinned, holding up a plastic bag. “I realized I have no mixers left, so I raided your fridge. Thought I’d be polite and ask first.”

You gave him a look. “You couldn’t just text me?” Mingyu just shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall asleep or something. Plus, you left your phone on my counter.”

You glanced at his hand and sure enough, your phone was right there. You huffed a laugh, reaching out to take it. “Thanks.”

His eyes flicked over you, and you suddenly remembered that you were still just in your towel. You tightened it instinctively, a little heat creeping up your neck. Mingyu didn’t seem to notice your discomfort — or if he did, he was doing a great job of hiding it.

He cleared his throat. “You, uh, smell good.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Shampoo. You should try it sometime.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Rude. I smell great.”

You leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. “Debatable.”

Mingyu gave you that lopsided grin you’d come to love. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Just wanted to let you know about the mixer situation. Also... you need help picking an outfit?”

You hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure. Might as well get a second opinion.”

He perked up instantly, stepping inside without hesitation. You led him to your room, keeping a grip on your robe just in case. You motioned to the dress hanging on your closet door. “What do you think of this one?”

Mingyu eyed it thoughtfully, then shook his head. “Too fancy. You’d look amazing, but it’s a bit much for a house party.”

“It’s not formal,” he said as he crossed to your closet. “Just wear whatever makes you feel hot.”

“I want to look good,” you replied, brushing past him to rifle through your wardrobe.

“You always look good,” he muttered, eyes following the sway of your robe.

You didn’t notice his stare until you let the robe drop from your shoulders and reached for your bra.

Mingyu froze. “Fuck.”

You jumped slightly, realising a second too late that you were now standing completely bare in front of him.

“Sorry—I forgot I was only wearing this.”

Mingyu stood behind you, voice low. “Let me help.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding.

He moved with precision, sliding your panties up your legs, guiding them gently into place. You were keenly aware of every brush of his fingers against your skin. When he reached for the dress, you muttered. “I need a bra.”

“No, you don’t,” he said without missing a beat, his hands moving up to your chest, thumbs brushing gently across your nipples.

“Right now, I definitely don’t.”

He helped you into the dress, tugging the fabric into place and smoothing it over your hips.

“Perfect,” he said, voice husky.

You turned to face him, narrowing your eyes. “You’re such a horndog.”

“You’re just so fucking irresistible,” he murmured, pushing you down gently onto the bed. ~~ A half hour later, after some very distracting ‘help’ with your outfit, you were at Mingyu’s apartment, helping set up the drink table and food.

“Y/N,” Seokmin greeted with a warm grin. “You look amazing.”

“She does,” Mingyu said proudly. “I helped her get dressed.”

You gave him a warning glare.

Seokmin smirked. “I’m surprised you didn’t just try to get her out of it.”

You turned hid shyly behind Mingyu, who, bless him, actually looked sheepish.

“Hey, did you hear? Mia’s coming later. She just texted me.” Seokmin added. 

Mingyu raised a brow, pausing mid-step. “Really? She’s back in town?”

Seokmin nodded, barely containing his excitement. “Yeah, she’s visiting for a few weeks. Said she’ll swing by tonight if she finishes up early.”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course she would. It’s been ages since she’s hung out with everyone.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the name “Mia” stirred something bitter in your stomach. You glanced at Mingyu, trying to gauge his reaction, but he just seemed relaxed and happy about the news.

“Oh, right. Mia.” You forced a smile, taking another sip of your cocktail. “She’s... a friend of yours?”

Mingyu nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, we go way back. She’s pretty tight with the guys, too. Used to hang out all the time before she moved.”

You hummed noncommittally, trying not to show how that made you feel. The rational part of your brain knew that Mia was just a friend, but the way Seokmin seemed thrilled and Mingyu didn’t look the least bit uneasy was enough to twist something sharp in your chest.

“Man, Mingyu, remember that one time Mia convinced you to sing at that karaoke bar? Absolute disaster.” Seokmin burst into laughter, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a smile.

“She was the one who picked a ballad for me. She set me up for failure,” Mingyu grumbled, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.

You couldn’t help but chime in, voice a little colder than you intended. “Sounds like you two were close.”

Mingyu glanced at you, noting the tightness in your tone, but Seokmin just kept laughing. “Oh, they were! Mia and Mingyu were basically inseparable at one point. He had such a crush on her, would look at her with heart eyes.”

You raised an eyebrow, the words sticking to you like burrs. You wanted to ask more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sound interested. Instead, you took another long sip of your drink, pretending to focus on the music rather than the irritation bubbling up inside you.

Seokmin seemed oblivious to your change in mood, but Mingyu wasn’t. He nudged you lightly with his shoulder. “You okay?”

You plastered on a smile. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly not buying it. “You sure?”

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s just... interesting, that’s all. Didn’t realize you had such... close friends around here.”

Mingyu blinked, clearly confused by your shift in demeanor. “Well, yeah. I mean, Mia’s been part of the group for a long time. It’s not a big deal.”

“Right,” you replied, forcing a bright smile. “Not a big deal.”

Mingyu gave you a slightly exasperated look, like he knew you were holding something back but didn’t want to push. “You’re acting weird.”

“Am not,” you said, trying to sound breezy but probably failing miserably. “I just didn’t realize you had karaoke buddies. Next time, you’ll have to take me.”

Seokmin snorted. “Oh, trust me, you don’t want that. Mingyu’s voice could probably clear a room.”

Mingyu shot him a glare. “You’re one to talk, Seok.”

But you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to laugh. Suddenly, the idea of Mia just waltzing in, sharing inside jokes and old stories, made your skin itch. You hated how petty you felt. You knew logically that Mia was probably just a friend, but the casual way Mingyu talked about her like she was some great part of his past grated on your nerves.

You didn’t want to look jealous. You didn’t want to act childish. But the frustration kept prickling under your skin, making you more and more irritable. When Mingyu reached out to brush his hand over yours, you pulled away, pretending to adjust your shirt.

Mingyu’s smile faltered. “Okay...”

You cleared your throat, glancing at Seokmin, who was still happily oblivious. “I should go check on the snacks. Make sure we’re not running out.”

Without waiting for a response, you hurried off to the kitchen, your heart pounding. You knew it was silly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t quite as special to Mingyu as you thought.

Back in the living room, Mingyu frowned, watching you leave. Seokmin nudged him, completely missing the tension. “You good, man?”

Mingyu sighed, eyes still on the kitchen doorway. “Yeah... I just don’t get it. One minute she’s fine, the next she’s acting like I did something wrong.”

Seokmin gave a low chuckle. “She’s jealous, you idiot.”

Mingyu’s eyes widened. “Jealous? Of Mia?”

Seokmin nodded sagely, patting his friend’s shoulder. “Oh, definitely. And you’re too dumb to notice.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, but then realization dawned on his face, and he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his lips. “She’s jealous...”

Seokmin smirked. “Yeah, and if you want to keep your head intact, maybe go check on her before she decides to break one of your precious cocktail glasses.”

Mingyu didn’t need telling twice. He got up and made his way to the kitchen, determined to figure out exactly what was going on in your head.

You were elbow-deep in a bowl of popcorn when you heard footsteps approach from behind. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was—Mingyu’s quiet but certain walk was becoming something you could recognise even over the hum of your own sulky thoughts.

He leaned against the fridge, arms crossed, watching you in silence for a beat. You didn’t look up.

“Hey.” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

You kept your eyes trained on the bowl as you stirred. “Hey.”

“Are we gonna talk about whatever that was?” Mingyu asked, voice laced with more confusion than annoyance.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and gave a half-hearted shrug. “It’s nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing,” he replied, stepping closer. “You kind of acted like I told you I still loved my ex or something.”

You dropped the popcorn scoop with a clatter,

Before the words could escalate into something sharp, the kitchen door creaked open, and in walked Joshua with a slice of pizza and a poorly timed smile. “Oh, hey. Didn’t mean to interrupt the brooding.”

You didn’t say anything. Mingyu gave a tired smile, barely there.

Joshua bit into his pizza. “So, uh… you two aren’t fighting about the Wonwoo thing, are you?”

The silence after that was deafening.

You blinked slowly. Mingyu’s eyes didn’t leave you. “What thing?”

Joshua’s mouth froze mid-chew. “Wait. You didn’t know?”

“Joshua,” you warned.

Mingyu’s voice was quiet. “What thing?”

Joshua grimaced. “I thought she told you. It was just… a kiss. One kiss. Before you two—” He waved the pizza vaguely.

“Joshua,” you snapped again.

“I’m just gonna… go,” Joshua said, already backing out the door. “You guys got this.”

The door clicked shut.

You turned to Mingyu slowly. “I was going to tell you.”

His brow furrowed. “And yet… you didn’t.”

“I didn’t want it to ruin things.”

“You think that’s how trust works?” He asked, his voice even. Too even. “You just edit the truth when it’s inconvenient?”

“I didn’t mean to hide it,” you said, stepping forward slightly. “I was scared.”

“Of what? Me?” Mingyu let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. And you keep giving me the edited version of everything.”

“It was just a kiss.”

“It was a lie of omission,” he said. “Which sucks worse.”

You didn’t respond. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to cool off.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He lingered for a second, looking like he wanted to say more. But then he just turned and walked back toward the living room, slipping seamlessly into the laughter and noise of the party like nothing happened.

You stayed in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter, trying to steady your breathing.

No crying. Not here. Not now.

After a few minutes, you straightened up, smoothed your dress, and followed the hum of music back into the party.

The music had shifted to something warmer, deeper—bass-heavy and slow, perfect for the cozy, slightly overcrowded atmosphere of the living room. Fairy lights strung above cast soft amber glows, and bodies moved through the space with ease, cups in hand, voices rising in laughter and inside jokes. You were leaning against the arm of the couch, watching the party unfold with a drink balanced delicately in your hand, half-smiling at Seokmin's loud declaration that he was the “unofficial DJ of vibes.” Mingyu was across the room, perched on the arm of a chair, laughing with someone you didn't know—his expression open, relaxed, like the kitchen conversation hadn’t happened at all. Like he hadn’t looked at you two hours ago like he wanted to scream.

You were still reeling, replaying the way he’d pulled away from you when Joshua dropped that half-truth bomb in the kitchen. The way his face had shifted, gone taut with a kind of disappointment you didn’t know how to soothe. He hadn’t said much after. Just, “I need to go back out there,” before brushing past you, leaving you holding a bowl of popcorn like it had offended him personally.

You'd rejoined the party five minutes later, after touching up your makeup and trying to will your breathing back into something calm. Now, you nursed your cocktail and kept one eye on Mingyu as he drifted from conversation to conversation.

Then the front door swung open.

“Mia!” Seungcheol called from somewhere near the stereo, his voice rising with familiarity and welcome.

Your stomach tightened before you even saw her.

Mia stepped into the apartment like she belonged there, hair tucked perfectly behind one ear, wearing a burgundy two-piece that fit her like sin. She laughed as she kicked off her shoes, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Mingyu.

And he lit up.

His smile reached all the way to his eyes, soft and immediate. She crossed the room with purpose, and before you could blink, her arms were around his neck.

It wasn’t a polite hug. It wasn’t a “hey, long time” side hug. It was full-bodied, both arms thrown around him as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder. Mingyu hugged her back just as tightly, one hand curling behind her head, fingers slipping into her hair with practised ease.

You didn’t realise you’d stopped breathing until Seokmin’s voice startled you. “You okay?”

You blinked and nodded too quickly. “Yeah, totally. Just—want a refill.”

“You haven’t finished that one.”

“Then make it stronger,” you said, shoving your cup toward him.

Seokmin raised an eyebrow but took it. “Okay, but I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just sound like you walked out of a rom-com’s dramatic midpoint.”

You didn’t answer. You were too busy watching Mingyu and Mia finally pull apart, only for her to say something that made him laugh—a real laugh, the kind he used to make at your dumb jokes, when things were easier and fewer secrets lived between your ribs.

Then she leaned in and whispered something in his ear.

And he didn’t flinch. He just grinned and nodded.

You looked away, forcing a tight smile as Seokmin handed you back your cup.

“Trouble in paradise?” He asked, trying to keep it light.

You didn’t take the bait. “Do you think Mia always looks like that on purpose, or is it just genetic cruelty?”

He blinked. “Wow. Okay. That’s the gin talking.”

“No, that’s me. The gin just amplifies it.” You took a long sip. “Cheers to that.”

Seokmin gave you a look, like he wanted to ask more, but someone called him over to the speakers, and he gave you a mock salute before turning away.

You glanced back toward Mingyu. He was still talking to Mia, though his eyes flicked to you for a brief second.

And you didn’t smile.

You turned on your heel, heading for the kitchen again—not because you needed anything, but because you couldn’t stand the way your chest ached when he looked like he belonged to someone else.

Or worse—like maybe he did. ~~ You didn’t move right away.

The muffled bass from the living room thrummed through the floor. Laughter and glasses clinking together floated just beneath it. The hum of the party was still alive, unaware that something in you had started to dim.

Still, you couldn’t hide in the kitchen forever.

You smoothed down your top, pressed your fingertips against your cheeks to chase away the warmth, and grabbed a drink that wasn’t yours but felt earned all the same. Steeling your nerves, you walked back into the crowd.

It didn’t take long to spot him.

Mingyu was leaning against the back of the couch, drink in hand, smiling politely while nodding along to something Mia was saying. She looked even prettier up close — black heels, glossy hair, a red lip that said I’m effortlessly bold and know it. His head tipped slightly when she laughed.

Your stomach twisted.

Then he looked up.

And saw you.

There was a beat — a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes — before he set his glass down and motioned you over. You hesitated for a second too long, and he seemed to register it. Still, he crossed the space between you with ease.

“Hey,” he said, voice low. “You okay?”

You nodded, pasting on a soft smile. “Fine.”

“Good.” He reached for your hand — the smallest gesture — and laced his fingers with yours before leading you back across the room. “Come meet Mia properly.”

You swallowed, your steps a little too careful as you followed him. He brought you to her like he was presenting something special, and the way he held onto your hand didn’t go unnoticed.

“Mia, this is Y/N,” he said, voice lighter now. “My... neighbour.”

You blinked. Not friend. Not girl I’ve been having sex and confusing and half-falling for. Just neighbour.

You stretched a smile across your face anyway. “Hi.”

Mia returned it with a polite one of her own, eyes flicking from you to Mingyu’s hand wrapped around yours. “Oh, the girl with the bonsai.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Word travels fast.”

Mingyu coughed. “She may or may not have almost knocked me out with it.”

“I thought it was your nose she almost broke?” Mia added helpfully. “He mentioned it.”

You fought the urge to glare.

“Well,” Mia said, her smile widening a little, “it’s nice to finally meet you. I was starting to think you were a myth.”

You tilted your head. “Nope, all real.”

Mia let out a soft laugh and sipped her drink. “Touché.”

The three of you stood there for a moment, the silence awkward and polite and loaded.

You took a long sip of your drink after Mia drifted off to speak with someone else, your eyes trailing Mingyu across the room. He was back by the speakers now, joking with Seokmin and refilling his glass. You forced yourself to look away and joined a small group by the coffee table, feigning ease even though your shoulders hadn’t dropped since the moment Mingyu introduced you as his neighbor.

More people had arrived since you stepped away — the apartment was buzzing now, with drinks in hand and snacks being passed around. Joshua was animatedly telling a story in the corner, Wonwoo had somehow found his way to the balcony with a group of indie music lovers, and Seokmin was weaving through the crowd with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

He hopped onto the armrest of the couch and clapped his hands together.

“Alright, folks,” Seokmin grinned, drink raised like a toast. “We’ve reached that point in the night. Time for a little organized chaos.”

Groans and cheers rose around the room.

“No, no — none of that,” he laughed. “We’re playing a classic. ‘Never Have I Ever.’ Drinks up, voices loud, and shame on full display.”

“I hate you,” Seungcheol said, already sinking into the beanbag chair with a resigned sigh.

Seokmin ignored him. “Circle up! Gyu, Mia, you’re not escaping either. C’mon.”

You hesitated for a beat, but found yourself being pulled by Joshua toward the quickly forming circle in the living room. Mingyu caught your eye across the room. His mouth curved into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes again.

He sat down beside Mia.

You took a spot beside Joshua.

“Alright, alright,” Seokmin said, once everyone was gathered. “House rules apply — if you have done the thing, you take a sip. If you haven’t, you survive with your dignity. Sound good?”

“Define dignity,” someone muttered, already laughing.

Mingyu took a long sip of his drink before glancing at Mia. She nudged him playfully with her shoulder.

“Fine,” Seokmin said dramatically. “I’ll start. Never have I ever… stolen someone’s underwear after a hook-up.”

A chorus of laughter broke out, along with a few gasps. Mingyu actually choked on his drink.

Joshua groaned. “Seokmin, for god’s sake.”

A few people hesitantly drank. You raised an eyebrow at Wonwoo, who kept his glass suspiciously still.

The game rolled on — the questions got bolder, the drinks stronger, the laughter louder. Then Seungcheol, already grinning like a man on a mission, leaned back in his seat.

“Okay,” he said, lifting his glass and fixing a smug look on Mingyu. “Never have I ever… written poetry for someone I had an unrequited crush on.”

A few oohs rippled around the group.

Mingyu narrowed his eyes. “Fuck off.”

Seungcheol just grinned wider. “Gyu wrote Mia sonnets, back in sophomore year. Literal. Sonnets.”

“I did not,” Mingyu groaned.

“You so did,” Mia said, laughing as she took a sip. “One was about my eyes. And my hair. And I think my ankle?”

“Your boots!” Seungcheol snapped his fingers. “It was definitely about the boots.”

You stared at your glass.

The group erupted into laughter. Mingyu smiled sheepishly and took a drink, his cheeks slightly pink — whether from the alcohol or the attention, you couldn’t tell.

You weren’t sure if you should laugh along or disappear entirely.

The bottle of soju in the center of the coffee table had been emptied, replaced, and emptied again. Someone had switched playlists, so now lo-fi R&B hummed softly in the background as Seokmin stood in front of the TV, theatrically announcing the next round of Never Have I Ever.

“Okay, okay!” He grinned, slightly flushed from drink and laughter. “Never have I ever... hooked up with a roommate.”

Half the room burst out laughing. Someone groaned and took a sip, followed by Mia with an unapologetic smirk.

“Guilty,” she said with a shrug, nudging Seungcheol beside her. “Freshman year. We don’t talk about it.”

“Oh, we talk about it,” Seungcheol grinned. “It was chaos. She almost broke his desk chair.” You forced a smile, reaching for your drink and taking the tiniest sip just to avoid standing out. Mingyu didn’t drink on that one. You didn’t either. Still, your eyes flicked to him.

He was already looking at Mia, lips twitching in amusement.

Joshua leaned into your side, voice low. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied smoothly, setting your drink down and clasping your hands together.

He didn’t believe you. You knew that. But he just nodded.

Seokmin raised a hand to quiet the giggles. “Okay, okay, next one’s mine again—because I’m hilarious. Never have I ever... been lovesick over a best friend.”

“Dude,” Mingyu groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

Mia snorted. “Seriously?”

“Oh come on,” Seokmin said, practically gleaming. “Tell me that wasn’t Gyu during second year. We had to stage an intervention when he started writing shitty guitar songs.”

“Excuse me,” Mingyu said, pointing at him with mock offense. “They were sincere guitar songs.”

“Yeah, sincere trash,” Seungcheol chimed in, laughing. “You used to mope outside Mia’s studio like a dog in the rain.”

Your heart thudded unevenly.

“She had a boyfriend,” Mingyu shot back, laughing even as his ears turned red.

“You were still so in love with her,” Seokmin teased. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mingyu didn’t say anything. He just rubbed the back of his neck, grinning, and took a long sip of his drink.

You blinked at the rim of your cup.

That’s fine. Of course he had history. Everyone did. It didn’t mean anything.

Except it did.

The way Mia smiled at him — fond, a little smug — and how comfortable she looked next to him, curled into the couch like she'd done it a hundred times. Like she'd never had to earn her spot there.

Your throat tightened.

“Y/N?” Someone called, snapping you out of it.

“Huh?”

“It’s your turn,” Seokmin said.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Right.”

Your fingers curled around your cup.

Don’t be obvious. Don’t be petty. Don’t make it worse.

You offered a bright smile. “Never have I ever... been serenaded in public.”

A few people groaned. Seokmin drank. Joshua drank. So did Seungcheol.

Mingyu didn't. “Not even once?” You asked, your tone light.

Mingyu shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Nope. Not my thing.”

Mia tilted her head. “You almost did it for me once.”

“Keyword being almost,” he said, flashing her a small grin.

Something cold and sharp settled in your chest.

You laughed again — a little too high, too quick — and took a big sip of your drink just for something to do.

Joshua leaned closer. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good,” you replied, your voice bright and brittle.

“Because you’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

He gave you a look. “The thing where you pretend you’re having fun but your fingers are clenched so hard you’re about to snap the glass.”

You blinked down at your cup.

“Oh,” you said, loosening your grip. “Didn’t realize.”

Joshua sighed and draped an arm over the back of the couch behind you. Protective. Anchoring.

“Gyu,” he called casually, “can you pass the bottle?”

Mingyu did — eyes flicking to you for half a second before you looked away — and conversation resumed around the circle.

But the ache in your chest stayed.

And even though you kept smiling, kept playing, kept sipping your drink...

You couldn’t help but notice that Mingyu never once looked your way again during the game.

“Alright, alright,” Seungcheol said with a mischievous grin, slouched sideways in the beanbag, already halfway into his next drink. “Here’s one for the romantics. Never have I ever started falling for someone and totally denied it to everyone around me, even though it was obvious as hell.”

The room broke into oohs and laughter.

“Oof, Cheol’s feeling messy tonight,” Seokmin said, raising his eyebrows.

“God, that’s specific,” someone added.

Joshua chuckled and reached for his drink with a murmur of “we’ve all been there.” A few others followed suit.

But your eyes went straight to Mingyu.

He didn’t reach for his glass. He just froze.

His hand hovered near the bottle, indecisive.

It wasn’t just you who noticed.

“Gyu,” Seungcheol said, voice full of amusement. “C’mon, you’re not drinking? We all had front row seats, dude.”

There was a ripple of chuckles.

You felt the air still. Your pulse fluttered in your throat.

Mingyu’s lips twitched — not in amusement, but like he was chewing something back.

“Maybe I just don’t want to play along,” he said evenly, setting his drink down instead.

The teasing shifted quickly into silence.

And for a moment, all you could hear was the hum of the music and the fizz of a nearby seltzer can being cracked open.

You forced out a light laugh. “Okay, this just got intense. Time-out. I’m getting snacks.”

You stood a little too fast.

“Need help?” Joshua asked quietly.

You shook your head, smiling. “All good. I just need to… stretch my legs.”

You slipped into the kitchen, your hand curling tighter around your glass with each step. The second you were out of view, you leaned against the counter, taking a breath.

That was stupid. You weren’t supposed to care, not like this, it was still too soon.

You weren’t supposed to react.

But hearing it phrased that way — having it exposed like some public game clue for everyone to dissect — had felt like someone reaching inside your chest and yanking something raw to the surface.

You busied your hands with a snack bowl. Pretzels. Chips. Something crunchy and loud enough to mask how unsettled you felt.

Behind you, you didn’t hear footsteps.

But you still knew he was there.

Mingyu’s voice was quiet when he spoke.

“You didn’t have to leave.”

You didn’t turn around.

“I needed a break,” you said, gently tipping pretzels into a bowl. “Thought the snacks were looking lonely.”

“Y/N…”

You sighed and looked over your shoulder. “It’s fine, Mingyu.”

His brows pulled together, the crease between them deeper than before. “It’s clearly not.”

You shrugged and turned back to the cabinet.

“I’m not mad,” you said softly. “I’m just… tired of feeling like the punchline.”

He hesitated, hands curling at his sides. “You’re not.”

You gave a hollow laugh and finally turned to face him. “Aren’t I? Because it kind of feels like that’s the bit I’m playing in this group. The clueless one. The girl you’re maybe into when it’s convenient.”

Mingyu’s jaw clenched. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is the fact that Seungcheol talks about you being in love with Mia, and you just… sit there and let it land like it means nothing.”

“I didn’t ask him to say that,” Mingyu shot back.

“But you didn’t correct him either.”

There was a silence. Tight. Frayed at the edges.

You softened just enough to look at him clearly. “I know we haven’t figured us out yet. And I’m trying to be okay with that. I really am. But sometimes I feel like I’m on the outside of something I’m supposed to be part of.”

Mingyu looked like he wanted to say something — maybe reach for you, maybe apologize.

But instead, he just nodded.

And you turned away again, just munching on the pretzels. 

~~

You lingered in the kitchen for ten full minutes — ten long, dragging minutes of quietly crunching chips, sipping a flat drink, and trying to calm the thrum beneath your ribs.

Eventually, with a deep breath and a plastered-on smile, you picked up your glass and slipped back out.

The living room had only gotten louder.

Someone had turned the music up, bodies now shifting to the beat while others hovered around the island with their half-filled cups. The drinking game had dissolved into a mix of laughter and scattered stories. You scanned the room for a familiar anchor — Joshua. Maybe he’d be ready to head out with you.

You spotted him near the hallway, surrounded by three people who were talking animatedly, hands flying with every sentence. Joshua was grinning wide, nodding along, clearly invested. You thought about cutting in — but the words caught somewhere in your throat.

He looked happy.

And you didn’t want to ruin that.

So you turned away, gaze sweeping the room once more.

And then you saw them.

Wonwoo.

And Mia.

Out on the balcony.

You hadn’t even noticed the sliding door open. The light from inside spilled faintly onto the patio, casting just enough glow to make out their silhouettes. Both had drinks in hand — hers a wine glass, his something darker in a tumbler. They were standing close, too close. She was laughing at something he’d said, one hand reaching out to lightly smack his arm. He smirked in response, leaning in to murmur something else.

Your stomach dropped.

You shouldn’t care. Not really.

But the sight made something tighten sharply in your chest.

The memory of that one kiss you and Wonwoo had shared flickered across your mind like static — stupid, harmless, forgettable. That’s what you’d both said. That’s how you’d justified it.

But it didn’t feel so harmless now.

Especially not when he was standing out there laughing with the same girl who had already been a minefield in your night.

You shifted back half a step, heart thudding in your ears.

You didn’t know what you felt. Jealousy? Guilt? Resentment? All of it layered over itself until it buzzed under your skin.

You turned quickly, almost bumping into someone as you ducked away toward the hallway.

Maybe fresh air.

Or maybe your coat.

You needed out — even if just for a few minutes.

You turned the corner in the hallway, heart set on grabbing your coat and slipping out before anyone noticed. But just as you reached the entryway, you stopped short.

Mingyu was there, leaning against the wall with a half-empty drink in his hand. His eyes flicked up the second he saw you. His expression was unreadable — but his jaw was tight.

“Leaving?” He asked coolly.

You hesitated. “Just getting some air.”

“Right.” He took a slow sip from his cup. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mingyu gave a half-laugh, dry and low. “It means every time things get even a little bit uncomfortable, you vanish. Kitchen. Couch. Front door. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I’m not vanishing,” you shot back. “I just—I needed a break.”

“From what? A party?” He said sharply. “From people asking questions or making jokes? You think I wasn’t uncomfortable when Seungcheol decided to talk about Mia like we were some old married couple?”

You blinked at him. “That’s not what this is about.”

Mingyu stepped forward. “Isn’t it?”

The hallway suddenly felt much narrower.

“You keep acting like I’m the one who’s keeping things from you,” he said, voice low but simmering. “Like I’m the one still playing games. But you know what? You hid the fact you kissed Wonwoo from me.”

Your breath caught.

Mingyu shook his head, eyes dark. “You say you want something real, and then the second things feel hard or messy, you bolt. You run, Y/N. Every time.”

You flinched. That hit too close.

“I’m not running,” you whispered.

He raised a brow. “Aren’t you?”

Silence. Thick and heavy.

You looked away, pressing your lips together as you struggled to push down the swirl in your chest.

“I just need a minute,” you finally muttered, reaching for the doorknob.

Mingyu didn’t stop you. He just watched, his knuckles whitening around his glass, and said quietly,

“Of course you do.”

And then he turned back toward the living room.

Leaving you standing alone in the hallway — your coat in one hand, and your heart doing laps in your chest.

~~ It wasn’t until you were halfway down the block that the weight of your choice hit. You had no destination, no real plan — just anger and bitterness and a vague urge to walk it out. Your phone was in your pocket, but you didn’t want to use it. You didn’t want to call anyone. You just… needed to be alone.

Except, the further you walked, the more lost you became.

Every rustle, every crack of twigs made you twitch. You kept moving, kept walking faster, willing yourself not to break down. Eventually, miraculously, you spotted a familiar street name, which gave you just enough hope to return to your building.

You exhaled sharply when the elevator doors closed behind you. Safe. ~~ You reached your door and slid your keys out of your purse, hand halfway to the lock—when a voice stopped you cold.

“Y/N.”

Your fingers paused mid-turn.

Mingyu was standing in front of his own apartment, hoodie half-zipped, hands in his pockets, his eyes already on you. His hair was slightly tousled like he’d just run a hand through it too many times.

You gave a tired smile, trying to defuse the awkwardness lingering between you both. “Hey.”

But Mingyu didn’t smile back. “You might not want to go in right now.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean it,” he said quietly. “Just… wait a bit.”

You frowned, still gripping your keys. “Mingyu, I live here.”

“I know,” he said, gaze heavy. “But Wonwoo and Mia… they came back.”

Your heart stuttered. You let out a breathy laugh, trying to play it cool. “So? They’re friends, right?”

Mingyu tilted his head, the edge of frustration flickering in his expression. “Friends don’t usually come back from a party like that. And definitely not when he comes knocking on my door five minutes later asking for a condom.”

The words hit you like a gut punch.

You froze.

“I’m not trying to be cruel,” Mingyu added after a beat. “I just figured you’d rather hear it from me than… find out when you walked in.”

You let out a small, humorless laugh and leaned back against your door, suddenly feeling like the floor had shifted beneath you.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” you said, voice thin.

Mingyu nodded, eyes softening. “I wasn’t trying to rub it in. I just—didn’t want you to walk in and feel blindsided.”

You took a seat on the floor, back against your door, arms hugged around your knees like they were the only thing holding you together. The hallway was quiet, save for the faint muffled bass still pulsing from someone’s party playlist. You blinked slowly, trying not to think about anything. Especially not about what was happening behind that door.

Mingyu shifted from where he was standing. “Hey…” he said softly, crouching down in front of you.

You looked up, eyes heavy.

“Come inside.”

You blinked. “Gyu…”

“No,” he cut you off gently, voice low. “No expectations, no talking if you don’t want to. I just… You’re freezing.” His brows knit together. “At least let me make you tea. Or take a hot shower, or… hell, just sit on my couch wrapped in a blanket until you don’t feel like the world’s kicked you in the teeth.”

You stared at him for a long beat, and when you didn’t respond, he added—

“You can even crash in my bed. I’ll take the couch, seriously. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words didn’t come. You were too tired to argue, too wrung out to pretend. And the quiet sincerity in his face—no teasing, no passive digs—just soft concern and that familiar, maddeningly warm steadiness—it unraveled whatever was left of your resistance.

“…Okay.”

He nodded once, slow and quiet, like he was making a promise not to ask for more.

Mingyu stood and reached out a hand.

You took it.

And when he gently pulled you to your feet and guided you across the hall into the soft, familiar glow of his apartment, you exhaled your first real breath in hours.

~~

His apartment was warm, too clean — clearly a sign of restlessness that he felt, and in order to quell it, he decided to clean up after the party ended.

“Go shower, you can take any one of my shirts in my room.” 

You nodded and made your way to his bedroom, hands still shaking from the cold and the spiral in your head.

You stood by the bathroom doorway, fingers fidgeting with the hem of Mingyu’s oversized hoodie. You weren’t sure why your chest still felt tight, why the ache hadn’t eased yet—maybe because you still hadn’t said anything. Or maybe because you were waiting for him to.

Mingyu was folding a blanket over the couch when he paused, then glanced over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Before you go in…”

You looked up.

“I wanted to clear something up. About… Mia.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.

“She and I never… We weren’t a thing,” he said, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. “I had a stupid crush on her during our first year at uni. Thought she was cool. Pretty. Funny. I followed her around like a lovesick idiot for a bit.”

You gave a tiny nod, waiting.

“But that thing Seungcheol said? About the desk?” He winced. “That wasn’t me and her. It was Seokmin and his ex. In the shared flat. I was literally in the next room, trying not to vomit from the noise.”

You couldn’t help the small, awkward laugh that escaped.

Mingyu smiled faintly, then looked down at his hands. “I just… I know tonight made you feel small. And that’s on me too. I should’ve shut that conversation down. I should’ve said something instead of letting you sit there feeling like a joke.”

You opened your mouth, but he beat you to it.

“And I shouldn’t have lost it earlier about Wonwoo. It caught me off guard, but you didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping closer, heart thudding. “You were right to be upset. I should’ve told you. I was just… scared. It was before anything with us even started but I still felt stupid, and messy, and—”

“Hey.” He stepped forward gently, and before you could spiral further, he cupped your face in both hands.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, thumbs brushing the edge of your jaw. “You don’t have to say everything perfectly all the time. You just have to tell me when something matters.”

Your breath caught.

He leaned in, not for your lips, but for your forehead—pressing a kiss there so soft it made your eyes sting.

When he pulled back, he gave you the smallest smile. “Go shower, okay? Take your time.”

You nodded, heart a little lighter.

It had been a half hour, and you were in the bathroom, not yet showered, simply looking at your appearance and wondering what Mia had that you didn’t. She got Mingyu’s attention once, and now Wonwoo, and you just looked at the mirror wondering what you lacked.

The bathroom mirror was cruel.

You stood there, picking yourself apart — everything you weren’t, everything she was.

“Y/N?” Mingyu called out now worried because you had been gone for so long. 

You didn’t respond.

Mingyu stepped in slowly, a towel in hand. “Hey. Stop that.”

“I just… wanted to see what I was missing.”

He sighed and gently helped you onto the counter, wetting the towel and wiping your face with steady hands.

“She’s pretty.”

“Stop. Do not tear yourself apart.”

“She has a great body.”

“Y/N look at me.”

You blinked at him.

“Can you shower? Or do you need help?”

“I don’t know. She got your attention and his, what does she have that I don’t?”

“Don’t do this, don’t tear yourself apart.”

You leaned into him. “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not.”

His hands moved to your waist, slow, deliberate. “Nothing about this is pity.”

And then, he kissed you — soft, grounding, nothing like the others.

“I’m going to ask you again,” Mingyu murmured as he brushed his fingers gently against your jaw. “Can you manage to shower on your own, or do you need me to help you?”

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly pressed yourself into his chest. “I need you.”

Mingyu nodded wordlessly and began to strip, his eyes never leaving yours. “You know,” he said softly, “you are so fucking beautiful.” You looked down, unsure of how to respond. Mingyu stepped forward, tilting your chin up. “And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”

He guided you into the shower, and the minute the warm water hit your skin, you sighed. It was like the tension had been waiting to melt off your shoulders. Mingyu reached for the shampoo and ran his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp so gently it almost made you tear up. He didn’t rush. He just took care of you. And for once, you let someone do that.

You were about to step out when Mingyu turned you gently and pressed your back to the tile wall.

His lips landed on your forehead first, then trailed down to your lips—soft, slow, and deliberate. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t about heat. It was about holding you there, steady, wanted. You kissed him back, curling your fingers into his hair, and he leaned into it.

His lips brushed along your jaw, then down your neck. He was leaving faint marks—reminders. “Just so you know you’re real,” he murmured, almost like he could read your thoughts. His hands moved up to your breasts, careful and reverent, making you gasp when he tugged at your nipple just right.

Mingyu dropped to his knees without a word, and you held your breath.

The way he licked you—patient, intentional—it wasn’t just about getting you off. It was like he wanted to remind you of what it meant to feel good in your body again. Your hands tangled in his soaked hair as his tongue moved through your folds, dipping into you, then teasing your clit with expert flicks.

Your orgasm crept up on you slowly, and when it hit, it rolled through you like a wave. Mingyu didn’t let go of you—if anything, he held tighter, anchoring you in place as you trembled through it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous when you fall apart,” he whispered, lips against your thigh. “Like this? This is mine.”

You whimpered at his words, your legs trembling. “Turn around, face the wall,” he said gently. “Can I—?”

“Please,” you breathed.

Mingyu pulled you into another kiss, your lips barely able to keep up with the emotion. Before you realised it, he was lifting you up, your legs around his waist, aligning himself with you.

“Is this okay?” He asked again, and the softness in his voice made your heart stutter.

You nodded.

The first push of him inside you made you gasp, and Mingyu held you steady, his forehead pressed against yours. “So tight,” he whispered. “So fucking beautiful.”

He rocked into you with more power than speed, and you felt your fourth orgasm build until you were practically sobbing into his shoulder. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing your neck. “I’ve got you.”

“Cum inside me,” you whispered.

He nodded, kissed you hard, and thrust deeper, grunting as he spilled inside you. Your body quaked again, your walls clenching around him.

Even after he pulled out and gently set you down, Mingyu didn’t step away. He held your shaking body close, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and slid a hand down your stomach.

“One more,” he said, his voice almost a question.

You nodded.

He slid his fingers into you again, and it was too much, but in the best way. You came instantly, collapsing into him.

Mingyu held you up, whispering soft words in your ear as he washed you down carefully, wrapped you in a towel, and carried you to his bed.

He towelled your hair dry, slid a clean shirt over your head, and tucked you into bed with him, wrapping his arms around you like a safety net.

You laid your head on his chest and mumbled, “cuddly.”

“Always,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “How do you feel?”

You hesitated. “Fucked out. But safe. And wanted.”

Mingyu’s voice was quiet when he answered. “Good. That’s all I ever want you to feel with me.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the intimacy, but just as you started to drift off, you heard him whisper something against your hair.

“I’ll always only want you.”

~~

A couple of days later, you groaned, dragging yourself onto the couch and curling into a tight ball. “God, why does it feel like my uterus is trying to kill me,” you muttered, clutching a hot water bottle to your stomach. 

“I swear to god, fucking stupid moron,” you continued to swear, as every movement felt like punishment from your uterus.

“Okay, I just got here, so I know I didn’t piss you off,” Joshua said as he walked into the kitchen, eyebrows raised.

You glared at him. “You offering to help?”

“Not if you’re gonna bite me,” he quipped, stepping around you and grabbing the kettle. “Sit. You look like you’re two cramps away from burning down the building.”

You groaned and shuffled to the couch, burying yourself in blankets. “Ugh, I hate this. Everything hurts.”

Joshua soon joined you with a mug in hand. “Put in honey too. You're welcome.”

You smiled faintly. “You’re the best.”

“Obviously,” he replied. Then he glanced at his phone. “I wish I could stay, but I’m meeting Jihoon. He’s letting me preview his next drop.”

You gave him a weak thumbs up. “Rub it in.”

Joshua gave you a pointed look. “Also—friendly poke—but have you spoken to Wonwoo since the party?”

You groaned. “Ask me when I’m not bleeding like a stuck pig, okay?”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Fair. You’re terrifying. Anyway, I’ll be back later.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “And if I’m not, Mingyu can take care of you.”

At the mention of his name, you peeked over the top of your blanket… just in time to see Mingyu walking through your apartment door like it was scripted.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, flopping back down and hiding again.

Mingyu laughed as he crouched in front of you. “Why am I apparently your designated caretaker?”

You sighed dramatically. “Because my uterus is revolting, and I’m slowly dying.”

“Right. Your monthly ‘not pregnant’ reminder.” Mingyu softened his tone. 

“Do you want a pillow?” He asked

You smirked. “You offering to be a body pillow now?”

“Absolutely. Way comfier.” Without waiting, he scooped you up and settled onto the couch with you draped across him, his leg propping up your back. “Better?”

You nodded against his chest. “So much better.”

For a while, it was quiet, his fingers lazily carding through your hair.

“Gyu?” You murmured, your voice drowsy.

“Yeah?”

“You must have been a solid ex-boyfriend, because this is top-tier boyfriend behaviour.”

He paused, then answered softly. “It did serve me lots of brownie points with my ex.”

You tilted your head to look at him. “Sorry, we don’t have to discuss it if it’s a sore subject.”

“Nah,” he shrugged. “It’s part of the story, you know? I thought she was the one, for a while.”

“You’re a romantic,” you whispered.

Mingyu smiled. “Guilty. I like the idea of something that makes you feel so seen, so loved… something that sticks.”

You let out a soft breath. “I used to be like that. But every time I like someone, they like someone else. So... what’s the point?”

“Do you not believe in love anymore?”

“I do,” you admitted. “Just not for me.”

“Why? You don’t think you’ll find it, or you don’t think you deserve it?”

Your eyes fluttered shut. “Some people get it. Some people don’t. I think I’m the latter. Can we change the topic? Discussing this on my period is a bad idea.”

“You brought it up,” he said gently.

“And now I’m regretting it,” you muttered, making him laugh.

He adjusted slightly, his hand resting over yours. “Should I go?”

You pulled back to look at him. “You’re leaving because I don’t want to dissect my emotional trauma?”

“I’m leaving because I feel like I’m always walking on eggshells around you. One minute we’re laughing, the next you’re distant. It’s hard to keep up.”

You turned your face away. “Now you get why I don’t believe in this fairytale crap. Love is supposed to be this all-forgiving, unconditional thing. If I can’t even be friends with someone because of my moods, then what hope do I have?”

He was quiet for a beat, then gently pulled you into his arms again. “Okay. What if we just hang out for a week? Just friends. No sex. We get drunk, eat junk food, watch movies—see if we even like each other without the orgasms.”

You snorted. “That sounds kinda fun. After the period from hell, though.”

He smiled down at you. “Of course.”

“Gyu?” You whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You’re not leaving?”

“Nope. Couch is comfy. I’m lazy. And you’re warm.”

You smiled and snuggled into his chest, placing a soft kiss on his jaw.

“What was that for?” He asked.

“Because you’re a sweetheart.” ~~ You woke up groggy, face buried against something firm and warm.

“Gyu,” you mumbled sleepily, blinking at the early morning light creeping through your curtains.

“Hm?” He muttered, voice raspy and barely awake.

“Can you get up?”

“Why?” Mingyu mumbled sleepily, arms still wrapped around you. “M’comfy.”

You shifted slightly, your forehead creased. “Because… Wonwoo could walk in and see us like this, and you two haven’t gotten off to the best start.”

Mingyu blinked his eyes open at that, head lifting slowly from the pillow. “Oh,” he said softly. “Right.”

You frowned when he didn’t move, when his arms didn’t immediately pull away. “Gyu?”

He took a breath and looked at you—not annoyed, not defensive. Just thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded slowly.

“How do you feel? About him. About… everything that happened with Mia.”

Your stomach twisted. You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

Mingyu didn’t speak, giving you the space to figure it out. You could feel the weight of his gaze though, and something about that steadiness made the words come easier.

“I think… I think part of me was always holding on to this idea of him. The possibility of it. But then I saw him with her—saw how easy it was for him to move on and smile like it never meant anything.”

Mingyu stayed quiet, his hand brushing over your knuckles gently.

“And I felt stupid,” you whispered. “For believing it ever meant anything. For hoping.” He nodded slowly. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“But I want to,” you said, turning to look at him. “Because I don’t want you to think that I’m still stuck on him. I’m not. It just… it still stings a little.”

“Of course it does,” Mingyu said quietly. “You cared.”

Silence hung between you for a beat. Then he reached over and tugged the blanket over your knees.

“I’m not trying to replace anything, Y/N,” he said, voice gentle. “But I need to know that I’m not a rebound. Or someone you lean on because you’re lonely.”

“You’re not,” you said without hesitation, sitting up a little. “You’re… kind, and patient, and safe. And I’m scared because I don’t want to screw this up.”

Mingyu gave you a tired, crooked smile. “We already did the screwing up part, remember?”

You let out a small laugh, wiping at your eyes. “Right.”

He reached for your hand again. “Then let’s just try. Slowly, if we have to.”

You nodded, the lump in your throat softening.

Mingyu tilted his head. “Now, can I hold you again without the threat of a third-party walk-in ruining the moment?”

You chuckled and pulled the blanket tighter around you. “Okay. Just don’t squeeze my stomach too hard. I’m still cramping.”

He smiled, already settling back down beside you, warm and close and quiet.

“I’ll be gentle,” he whispered, tucking you closer. “Always.”

And for the first time in a long while, you believed it.

~~ About an hour later, once you’d both recovered enough to joke about heating pads and your questionable snack choices, Mingyu stretched with a sleepy grin, tugged on his hoodie, and ruffled your hair. “Alright, nurse Gyu’s off the clock, I need to actually attend a meeting,” he teased. 

“Text me if you need anything, okay?” You nodded, smiling as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before heading to the door with one last wave. Just as the warmth between you and Mingyu settled into something quiet and safe, the front door creaked open, and in walked Wonwoo, fingers laced effortlessly with Mia’s.

“Oh,” Wonwoo said awkwardly, holding hands with Mia. “Didn’t know you were home.”

You stared at him. “I live here.”

Mia glanced down at her feet. “I’ll be in your room,” she said softly.

You watched her walk away, then turned to Wonwoo with a blank stare.

“Why did I see Mingyu leave just now?” He asked.

You scoffed. “Why do you care?”

He sighed, rubbing his temple. “Look… Mia and I… we connect. In a way, I just couldn’t with you.”

You blinked. “What the hell does that mean?”

Wonwoo paused. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete and utter dick.”

“Too late.”

He winced. “You told Joshua you liked me. Loudly. I heard you. And since then, I guess I’ve been trying to like you back. But… I couldn’t.”

You swallowed. “Thanks for the ego boost.”

“I thought something must be wrong with me if I couldn’t like someone like you. So I tried. We’re great as friends, but I wanted to see if maybe something more would grow. I thought… maybe if I kissed you, maybe if we got closer, it’d click. But it didn’t.”

You sat down. Your body was numb.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly. “I know I still did. I’m sorry.”

You nodded. “Does she make you happy?”

Wonwoo smiled, slowly and real. “Yeah. She does.”

“Then I’m happy for you. Or I will be. Eventually.”

He smiled back. “Thanks.”

As he turned to leave, you spotted something tossed over the back of the couch—Mingyu’s leather jacket.

“Does he make you happy?” Wonwoo asked, following your gaze.

You hesitated. “He’s… good in bed.”

Wonwoo gave you a look. “Y/N.”

You groaned. “Fine. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s too soon.”

“Then find out. You deserve to feel the kind of happiness you’re wishing me.”

You stared at him—and suddenly your brain clicked into gear. “Holy shit, you just gave me an idea.”

Wonwoo blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Never mind. I’ll tell you later.” You were already darting to your bedroom, mind racing. “And I’ll be nice to Mia. Promise!”

He stood in the hallway, looking vaguely concerned, as you disappeared with your laptop.

~~ The cursor blinked back at you as you deleted the title of your current draft.

“What is a Type?”Gone.

You typed quickly:

“How Many Dates Until You Know?”

You hit send on the pitch, and within minutes, your editor responded:

Approved. Run with it.

You smiled. For the first time in a long time, your fingers didn’t hesitate.

And the first person you wanted to write this with—the only person who had stuck around long enough to earn that role—was Mingyu.

~~ “So Keira,” you began, twirling your pen between your fingers, “I’m basically going to go out with him today. It’s not a date, but somewhere during the hangouts, I’ll bring up the idea of a date. I’ll essentially make him take me on one and see how long it takes for me to fall.”

Keira narrowed her eyes. “You’re using your hot neighbour for an investigative romance piece.”

You grinned. “Exactly.”

“Y/N,” she said, voice half-worried, half-exasperated, “while I love this chaotic plan, let’s keep it confidential. I don’t want him getting hurt and then suing us.”

You raised your hands in mock surrender. “He won’t! Okay, it’s six—I gotta go meet him for our ‘friendly’ workout.”

“Use protection!” Keira called as you walked out of her office.

You rolled your eyes and muttered, “Not that kind of workout…”

And maybe you’d forgotten to mention that you’d already slept with him. Repeatedly. But that wasn’t important. This wasn’t about sex anymore—it was about connection, chemistry, and curiosity. This was research.

For journalism. Obviously.

~~

“You wore heels to a workout?” Mingyu asked, raising a brow as you walked up to him outside your office.

“Relax,” you said, spinning slightly on your toes. “I’ve got my workout gear in my bag; I just needed to look cute for work.”

“You always look cute.”

You blinked. “Okay, that’s not helpful.”

“What?” Mingyu asked, smirking. “You looked at me like I was the dessert tray.”

You glared. “You’re literally sex on legs, and you know it.”

“Flattery will get you in the car faster.” He gestured to his sleek black Mercedes.

You paused. “Not to be that person, but… nice wheels.”

Mingyu stiffened slightly. “It was a gift. From my ex.”

You blinked. “A car?”

“Yeah,” he said, starting the engine. 

“We dated through high school. Her family was loaded. When I told her I wanted to become a photographer, she freaked. She said it didn’t fit her image; she expected that when it was appropriate, I’d marry her and we’d run her family business.”

“Oh, that’s not fair, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“She bought me shit like this to keep me around. Said if I failed, I could sell the gifts. Thought I’d be her trophy husband.”

Your hand found its way to his thigh. “Damn. Well, with you’ve been through with her, it’s impressive that you still believe in love.”

“I didn’t. Not for a long time. But then I found dance again. Music. Something that loved me back. And it taught me how to love myself, too.”

You were quiet for a second.

Then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re such a softie.”

“Oh, also, I’m taking you rock climbing, so buckle up.”

~~

You didn’t expect the receptionist to be so… pretty.

And smiley.

And touchy.

Your stomach twisted when Mingyu greeted her like an old friend. “Nice to see you again.”

“You brought a friend this time,” she said, giving you a pointed once-over.

“I am the friend,” you said, deadpan.

She asked for your shoe size and handed you climbing shoes. You followed Mingyu into the locker room, already irritated.

“You good?” he asked, eyes watching you closely.

“Fine,” you snapped.

“Then why were you glaring at her?”

“Yuri?”

You scoffed. “Yeah Yuri, Pretty receptionist with perfect tits? No reason.”

“I didn’t notice her tits,” he muttered. “But thanks for pointing it out. Should I go admire them up close?”

You glared. “Why are you trying to piss me off?”

“Are you jealous?”

You blinked. “No!”

He tilted his head. “Okay. Then change and meet me outside.”

~~Ten minutes later, you nearly choked when you found Mingyu shirtless by the climbing wall.

“Put your shirt back on,” you said immediately.

“Why? You don’t care who I talk to or what I do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Show me how this works before I commit murder.”

Mingyu smirked. “Yes, ma’am.”

He scaled the wall effortlessly, muscles flexing in all the right places.

You hated how hot he looked.

Also, you slipped on your third attempt and scraped your knee.

“Fuck—Y/N!” Mingyu was by your side instantly, kneeling next to you.

“It’s fine,” you muttered, wincing.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Just a scratch.”

“You’re stubborn.”

“And you’re cute when you’re worried.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes but helped you up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

~~ You changed back into your dress, only to find him chatting—again—with Yuri at the desk.

Laughing. Like, she was the funniest person alive.

Your blood boiled for no reason. Rationally, you knew this. Emotionally, you wanted to hurl your climbing shoes at his head.

“Hey,” he said, noticing you. “Have you been waiting long?”

You shrugged. “Was Yuri too distracting?”

Mingyu’s expression dropped. “You know what? I’m tired of this.”

Your arms folded automatically.

“I can’t talk to anyone without you jumping to conclusions. You keep saying you want to be friends—but if I have to tiptoe around your feelings and mine just to keep you from blowing up, then what’s the point?”

You blinked. “I… I care. Okay? Maybe too much. But I do care.”

Mingyu softened, reaching up to hold your face. “Then tell me that. Don’t shut down. Don’t make it weird.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

~~

Back at his place, you were both sprawled on the bed, slurping noodles and giggling through Ratatouille.

Somewhere around your fourth glass of wine, you tried to get up.

“I should head home.”

Mingyu caught your wrist. “Or stay. You’re comfy to cuddle.”

You turned, eyes locking with his.

You didn’t say anything.

You didn’t have to.

Because in that moment, the line between friendship and something else blurred again—and this time, neither of you pulled away.

“How’s your knee?” Mingyu asked quietly a little later, his hand tracing soft circles along your lower back. You were curled into him, trying to relax, but your body was tense. “It’s okay,” you whispered, voice low. Then he moved his thigh slightly, and you gasped.

“Shit—did I hurt you?” He said instantly, sitting up slightly in concern, his expression soft and serious.

“No—no,” you rushed to reassure him, shaking your head. “You didn’t. It’s just… the way you’re moving your thigh—um—it’s kind of… turning me on.”

Mingyu blinked, then cracked a small, surprised smile. “Yeah? Like this?” He flexed again, watching you melt into his chest with a tiny groan. “God,” you whispered.

“Get up,” he said, and you obeyed without even thinking, legs already trembling. Mingyu sat up and glanced down at his sweats. “Look at this,” he said with a soft huff, gesturing at the wet patch. “You’ve been sitting here, all innocent, no underwear under your oversized shirt?”

You gave him a shy nod. “Didn’t think it’d matter.”

Mingyu ran a hand down his face, eyes raking over you. “Is that why you took forever in the shower earlier? Were you thinking about me?” His voice was low, teasing—but the vulnerability behind it was clear. He wanted the truth. And you gave it to him.

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly.

That single word was all he needed. He reached out gently, pulling you back into his arms. “Lie down with me.” His tone had softened. “Do you have work early?”

“No, I start at ten.”

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Then just stay. Let’s just… be here.”

There was a pause. “Okay, don’t freak out, but I don’t really sleep with clothes on,” he whispered into your ear, like it was some confession. “I can wear boxers if it makes you uncomfortable—”

“No,” you said softly. “I think I might take this off too.” You tugged at the hem of your shirt.

He watched you, his eyes warm, not predatory. “That’s okay. We can just hold each other. You don’t have to do anything you’re not up for.”

But the warmth building between your bodies said otherwise. You were curled up in bed, bare skin on bare skin, when you started to squirm. Mingyu’s arms tightened instinctively around you. “Stop moving, baby,” he groaned. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’m trying to get comfortable.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “You keep this up and I won’t be able to think straight.” You pushed back into him, feeling how hard he was. Your voice was low, almost shy, but certain. “Then… maybe do something about it.”

He chuckled, but his gaze turned tender. “Only if you want me to.”

“I want you.”

That was all it took. Mingyu gently bit your shoulder, then pulled the duvet off your legs. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Come sit on my face, pretty girl.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“C’mere,” he murmured, guiding you up. You positioned yourself above him, heart pounding, thighs trembling slightly from nerves. But Mingyu was nothing but reverent, his hands supporting you gently as he looked up with nothing short of adoration. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

The first touch of his mouth had you gasping. He didn’t rush—he never did. Every flick of his tongue was patient, slow, deliberate, like he wanted you to feel cherished, not just desired. Your hands found his hair and tangled there as you let your head fall back.

He pulled you down for a kiss, then whispered, “hands and knees.” You obeyed shakily, still breathless. Mingyu slid into you slowly, almost carefully, groaning as he filled you. “You feel so good… I’ll go slow, baby.”

But it didn’t stay slow for long. Your body welcomed him like it was made for this, and soon he was pounding into you, every stroke sending shivers down your spine. He kept murmuring soft praise in your ear between kisses on your shoulder, telling you how perfect you felt, how beautiful you looked.

When you whimpered that you wanted to taste him, he stilled and pulled out, letting you turn around. You wrapped your lips around him, taking your time, and he groaned, one hand tangled in your hair, the other resting gently on your back like an anchor.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me—” His breath caught as he came, and you swallowed him down, still licking softly until he whimpered. “God, you’re unreal.”

He didn’t even let you sit up before scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the shower. “You made me beg,” he teased with a breathless laugh. “Now it’s my turn.”

You didn’t remember how long you were in there. Mingyu kissed and licked and touched you like it was his sole purpose in life. He whispered soft encouragement, asked if it felt okay, and held you steady when your legs gave out. And when you squirted for the fourth time, he kissed your temple and whispered, “There she is. My perfect girl.”

Back in bed, you were a puddle of emotion and sensation. He dried you off with the softest towel, pulled his shirt over your body, and crawled in beside you. His arms wrapped tightly around you as you buried your face into his chest.

“Cuddly,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

He chuckled softly. “How do you feel?”

“Fucked out. But…amazing.”

Mingyu held you tighter, resting his chin on your head. “I’m glad.”

And just before sleep pulled you under, you thought you heard him murmur against your hair. You didn’t ask, but you felt him smile into your hair. ~~

“You’re comfy to cuddle,” Mingyu said again, voice barely above a whisper as his fingers curled softly around your wrist.

You raised an eyebrow. “You said no sex while we’re hanging out.”

“I did,” he replied. “But cuddling isn’t sex.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “With you, cuddling is basically foreplay.”

He chuckled, tugging you gently back down until your head was resting on his chest again. “Then I’ll behave.”

You sighed as you curled into him, feeling the warm rise and fall of his breathing. His fingers returned to threading through your hair, slow and rhythmic. You hated how much you liked it. How right it felt.

“Mingyu?” you mumbled into his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever wondered why we do this? Sleep together, fight, make up, but still act like we’re not… anything?”

Mingyu didn’t answer right away.

Then—“All the time.”

Your eyes lifted to his, but he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, like he was trying to hold something back.

“I don’t know,” he added softly. “Maybe it’s because every time I think it could mean something, you push me away.”

You winced. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” He finally looked at you. “The moment I get close, you panic. The moment I pull away, you come running.”

“Mingyu…”

“No, it’s fine,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not wrong either. I’m probably addicted to the way you confuse me.”

You sat up, suddenly too warm, too vulnerable.

“I’m not trying to confuse you,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he said, sitting up too, face inches from yours. “I think we’re both just… scared.”

You didn’t know who moved first. Maybe you leaned in, maybe he did. All you knew was that the air between you cracked with tension, and then—

Your lips were on his.

Slow. Soft. Cautious.

And then not cautious at all.

Mingyu’s hands tangled in your hair, yours clutched the front of his shirt, and the kiss deepened into something familiar, something dangerous. You were already straddling his lap before you realised what was happening, the promise of “no sex” evaporating like steam off a kettle.

He pulled away, panting, forehead resting against yours.

“This is a bad idea,” he whispered.

“Yep,” you whispered back.

Neither of you moved.

His thumb traced along your jaw. Your nails curled against his chest.

“Mingyu…” you said, voice trembling.

“Yeah?”

You swallowed. “We’re fucked.”

He smiled.

And kissed you again anyway.

~~ The room was quiet, save for the low hum of the city through the window and the sound of Mingyu’s breathing—slow, steady, grounding. His arm was draped over your waist, anchoring you to the warmth of his body, skin still slick with the afterglow. You lay there tangled in sheets and each other, your cheek pressed into his chest, fingers lazily tracing the dip between his ribs.

“You okay?” Mingyu murmured into your hair, his voice husky from both exhaustion and softness.

You nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Yeah. You?”

“Mm.” He shifted slightly, just enough to press a light kiss to your forehead. “More than okay.”

You smiled at that, closing your eyes for a moment. But even in the comfort of his arms, that familiar unease stirred in your chest. The intimacy didn’t scare you—not exactly. But what it might lead to did. You could feel the questions hanging between you, heavy like unsaid words always were.

Mingyu sensed it too.

“I know this wasn’t... nothing,” he started, his voice careful, like he didn’t want to break the calm. “But I also know you don’t like labels. Or expectations.”

You sighed, biting your lip. “It’s not that I don’t like them,” you said slowly. “It’s just... whenever things get serious, I panic. I start convincing myself I’m not ready, or that I’ll mess it up.”

Mingyu nodded. “That’s fair.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “It is?”

“Yeah,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want more with you. But I also know what it’s like to feel like you’re sprinting when everyone else is just learning how to walk.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Mingyu said. “And I don’t want to pressure you. I like this. I like you. And if this—us—is just a maybe for now... I’m okay with that.”

You swallowed, then nodded. “So we’re not... together.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Not exclusive.”

“Nope.”

“But we like each other.”

Mingyu gave you a lazy grin. “A lot.”

You smiled at that, something warm and relieved blooming in your chest. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed, tightening his arm around you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “So we just… keep doing what we’re doing?”

“For now,” you said softly. “We take it slow. No pressure. No promises.”

“Cool,” Mingyu said. “Though I reserve the right to make you breakfast.”

“And I reserve the right to avoid your protein pancakes.”

He gasped in mock offense, and you both burst into quiet laughter, limbs still tangled beneath the sheets. Maybe it wasn’t a fairytale. Maybe it wasn’t official.

But it felt real.

And, for now, that was enough.

~~

“Walk of shame at eight in the morning, nice,” Joshua commented, glancing over the rim of his coffee mug as you tried to sneak past him unnoticed. “Seriously, is he that good in bed? Because, girl, you’re limping.”

You shot him a withering glare, cheeks flaming. “He’s amazing, okay?”

Joshua grinned, the kind of grin that said I told you so without saying a word. “Oh my god, you’re smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Do you like him?”

You shook your head a little too quickly. “No… I mean… I’m just… seeing if I could?”

Joshua blinked at you, setting his mug down. “What?”

You gave him a sheepish smile. “So… my next article? It’s going to be titled How Many Dates Until You Fall in Love.”

Joshua raised a brow. “Okay, that’s kinda cute. And honestly, kinda cool that Mingyu’s down to be your guinea pig.”

You froze. “He… doesn’t know.”

Joshua just sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Y/N.”

“What?”

“Are you out of your mind? Do you know how bad that looks? You’re literally using him for a story.”

You folded your arms. “Not if I end up liking him. Then it’s a romance arc.”

“Y/N, you can’t—”

“If I fall for him, it’ll be adorable!” You cut in, and then quickly added under your breath, “and journalistic.”

He groaned. “I hope your gravestone says, ‘killed by stupid decisions.’”

Before you could retort, Wonwoo strolled into the kitchen with a yawn and a stretch. “Okay, what’s going on? What dumb shit has she done now?”

“She’s writing an article called How Many Dates Until You Fall in Love,” Joshua muttered.

“And she’s using Mingyu to figure it out,” Joshua added before you could stop him.

“Oh, and she hasn’t told him,” Joshua finished, arms crossed.

Wonwoo gave you the slowest blink known to man. “You will tell him, right?”

You offered a shrug and a weak smile.

“Y/N!” They both yelled, startling you into a small jump.

“Okay, okay!” you snapped. “It’s not like I’m trying to ruin his life. If I fall for him, it’s mutual happiness!”

Wonwoo scoffed. “And if you don’t? Then what, you get a byline and he gets heartbreak?”

You groaned. “Fine, I’ll tell him. Eventually.”

Joshua narrowed his eyes. “Don’t wait for him to find out, Y/N. Please.”

You gave a tiny, guilty nod and quickly grabbed your bag. “Okay, well. Work calls!”

~~At the office, Keira looked up as you handed her your notepad. “So? How was the date?”

“It was good. Just… a hangout. Some flirting. A lot of chemistry.”

Keira arched a brow. “Ooh. Promising.”

You grinned. “We ended up watching a movie at his place.”

You left out the part where Mingyu had practically rearranged your internal organs. No need for those notes on file.

Keira smirked. “Is he at least hot?”

You winced, cheeks heating again. “Very. Tall. Gorgeous. Kind. Built like a Greek statue sculpted from sunshine.”

“Aw, a muse,” she teased. “Wouldn’t it be funny if this article landed you a boyfriend?”

You laughed quietly, mostly to yourself. “Yeah. Hilarious.”

~~

Later that evening, you decided on a spontaneous plan: two bottles of soju, your favourite snacks, and Monsters Inc. You wanted a comfort movie, and for some insane reason, you wanted Mingyu there beside you.

You knocked on his apartment door, only to be greeted by Seokmin. “Hey Y/N, ooh movie night?” 

“Did we make plans?” He asked, smiling.

“No, but I brought soju and a Pixar classic. Just thought…” Your voice trailed off as another figure appeared from behind him.

She was wearing his shirt.

Your shirt.

The same oversized hoodie Mingyu once slipped over your shoulders when you complained about the chill in his car. The one that still faintly smelled like his cologne days later, when you returned it.

The girl stood in the entryway of his apartment, tugging the sleeves over her hands, barefoot and blinking blearily. “Oh—sorry. I didn’t know anyone was coming by,” she said, startled as her eyes landed on you.

She didn’t sound smug. Just surprised.

Still, it sent your stomach plummeting.

Your gaze darted to Mingyu standing a few feet behind her, hair slightly rumpled, holding a coffee mug. He looked as caught off guard as she did.

But he didn’t say anything.

No rushed explanation. No, hey, it’s not what it looks like.

Just silence.

You nodded slowly. “Right. Of course.”

Mingyu took a step forward. “Y/N—”

“No need to explain,” you said, your voice light, falsely bright. “We’re not anything.”

You weren’t angry. Not yet. Just hollow.

He opened his mouth again, but the words didn’t come fast enough. You were already backing up.

“Enjoy your evening,” you added, and turned around before he could try again.

—

Your hands were trembling by the time you made it to your door. You fumbled with your keys, hating yourself for it. You shouldn’t feel this way. You didn’t even know what the two of you were. You weren’t together. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

But it still felt like something in your chest had been kicked open.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin, who had followed you out, asked, his voice was soft, concerned. He’d seen you bolt past. Of course, he had.

You didn’t turn around. “Yeah?” You managed.

“Everything okay?”

You nodded, but your voice betrayed you. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

Seokmin stepped closer. “That girl, she actually–?”

You shrugged. “Don’t I don’t want to kno,w okay?”

He hesitated. “But, Y/N, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“I doubt it, thank you for checking on me, but I just need some space okay?” You glanced at him, your smile watery. He looked at you like he understood — and didn’t.

“If you need anything,” he offered gently, “just knock.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump as you slipped into your apartment.

~~

A knock rattled your front door.

You didn’t move.

You already knew who it was.

The knock came again, quieter this time. More hesitant.

“Y/N?” Mingyu’s voice filtered through. “Please. Just let me explain.”

You exhaled sharply, your eyes still fixed on the flickering screen in front of you.

Another pause. Then the door creaked open.

You’d left it unlocked. Stupid.

Mingyu stepped inside, still in the same clothes from earlier. His hoodie—the one now burned into your memory—was gone, replaced by a tight, uncomfortable silence.

You didn’t look at him.

“I saw your face,” he said quietly. “Please believe me when I tell you, nothing happened.”

You finally turned toward him, face unreadable. “She was wearing your shirt, the same one you let me wear.”

“I know.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Her name’s Jiwoo. She’s my assistant. We’ve been pulling extra hours for this new gallery thing and—” He sighed. “This morning, I spilled a full glass of orange juice on her shirt while we were working in the kitchen. I offered her something dry. It just happened to be that hoodie.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Convenient.”

“I get how it looked, but it wasn’t—” He took a step forward. “Y/N, it wasn’t anything.”

You tilted your head, your voice calm but cold. “And you couldn’t say that when I was standing there? When she walked out like that, and you just stood there like I caught you red-handed?”

Mingyu flinched. “I froze. You looked… devastated.”

“I was,” you said, standing now, arms crossed. “Because I trusted you.”

“You said we weren’t exclusive.”

“I said we weren’t ready for labels,” you shot back, “not that I wanted to see you playing dress-up with another girl five minutes after I left your bed.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, his voice tightening. “You’re twisting this into something it’s not.”

You stared at him for a long moment. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just don’t want to be the fool again.”

Mingyu’s expression faltered. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You shrugged. “And yet.”

Silence filled the space between you.

He stepped back, the fight draining from his shoulders. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ve said what I came here to say.”

You nodded once, keeping your voice steady. “Thanks for the explanation.”

He hesitated. “If you ever want to talk—”

“I’ll let you know,” you interrupted, already turning away.

The door clicked shut behind him, but the ache didn’t leave with him.

It stayed. Quiet. Heavy. Unanswered.

~~ Later, curled into your couch, hair damp from a too-hot shower, you stared blankly at the muted credits of a movie you hadn’t really watched. The hoodie you had tossed into the laundry still sat in the basket, crumpled and untouched.

You weren’t mad.

You were hurt. Quietly. Deeply.

Because it was one thing to say “we’re not a thing.”

It was another time to be reminded of it in a hallway you used to share with him.

And it was something else entirely to realise you wanted to be one.

You crumpled where you stood, body folding inwards as the tears spilled freely.

Time blurred after that. You didn’t remember curling up on the couch, but that’s where Joshua found you hours later, wrapped in a blanket with a half-finished glass of wine on the table.

“Y/N, honey. Wake up.” His voice was soft as he knelt beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

Your eyes blinked open, dazed. “Shua?”

“You’ve been asleep for hours,” he murmured, voice tender. “Thought I’d bring you back to your bed. Come on, bubs.”

He helped you up slowly, one arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guided you into your room. You didn’t fight him. You barely said a word.

“Y/N, what happened?” He asked gently once you were sitting on the edge of your bed.

You gave a hollow laugh. “Guess my article’s gone to shit.”

Joshua didn’t react. Just waited.

“Mingyu didn’t take it well?” He finally asked.

You shook your head. “He doesn’t know.” Your voice cracked. “I went over… and there was another girl, wearing his shirt, he claims it’s his assistant, and only wearing his shirt because”

Joshua sat down beside you, jaw clenched. “God.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s like Wonwoo all over again. I tried so hard with him… and when he found the right person, he just knew.”

You glanced up at him. “You think he’s found the right person?”

“I don’t know,” Joshua said honestly. “But I know you’re not okay.”

You nodded. “It’s just better if I stay away. Every time I’m around him, we end up tangled up in each other, and I can’t keep doing that. I just end up hurt.”

“So… you’re going to ghost him?”

You shook your head. “No. Just… not bother anymore. I’ll be polite. Distant.”

Joshua nodded slowly, then pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Men are idiots.”

You laughed weakly. “Amen to that.”

Joshua smiled and blew you a kiss as he stood. “I’ll give you space tonight, yeah? Just text me if you need anything.”

You nodded, curling up on your bed as the door closed gently behind him. ~~

The next few days blurred together. You managed to avoid Mingyu, though not exactly gracefully. You’d duck around corners, fake a phone call, or pretend you didn’t hear him when he called your name. Childish, maybe, but the alternative was worse.

You thought about scrapping the article altogether. Maybe turning it into something more generic—interviewing couples about when they fell in love, turning it into a cute, breezy column. Something that didn’t rip your heart out with every paragraph.

It was Friday evening, and you were halfway through a MasterChef marathon when you heard your bedroom door creak open.

“Y/N?”

You turned and saw Mingyu poking his head in, doe eyes wide and sheepish.

Your stomach dropped. “How did you get in?”

“Um. Joshua hyung let me in. Said something about my ‘big pitiful puppy energy.’”

You groaned and sat up, folding your arms. “What do you want?”

Mingyu stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

“You have,” he said quietly. “I told you she was my assistant, nothing happened between us.”

You sighed and admitted. “I know it just hurt to see you with her.”

He gave you a soft smile, “I understand, but you do not need to worry, I like you too much to screw it up.”

Your eyes widened. “I should have just listened, I screwed up–”

Mingyu cut you off with a kiss.

It was soft. Hesitant. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. Like he didn’t want to scare you away.

“I don’t know what this is yet,” he said when he pulled back. “But I know I want more. I only want to be around you, only kiss you, hell even when we went climbing, even though we’d argued, I couldn’t stop smiling. The way you furrow your brows when you’re focused, the way you yell at me for being annoying… It’s like I’m drawn to you, even when you make me want to throw things.”

You laughed, and he smiled.

He sat down beside you on the bed, pulling you into his lap.

“I don’t know exactly what I feel,” he whispered, “but I know that when you walked out of my apartment crying, I wanted to run after you and kiss every tear away.”

Your heart was pounding.

He looked at you, eyes searching. “Tell me to go, and I will. But if there’s even a small part of you that wants to see where this goes…”

You didn’t let him finish. You leaned forward and kissed him again.

Mingyu kissed you back with the kind of softness that felt like a second chance—warm, hesitant, laced with something unspoken. You pulled away first, letting your forehead rest against his, catching your breath.

“You always say the sweetest things right before emotionally confusing me,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice light.

He laughed quietly. “What can I say? I’m a man of duality. I’ve got layers.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move from his lap. His arms were still around your waist, steady and grounding, like if he let go, one of you might float away.

“So,” you murmured, “what now?”

His hands moved in slow, absentminded circles on your lower back. “I don’t know. But I know I want to keep seeing you.”

“Even if I’m kind of a mess?”

“Especially because you’re a mess,” he teased gently.

You laughed, but it wobbled. “Gyu… I’m scared.”

“I know.” His voice softened. “Me too.”

The quiet stretched out again. You could hear the hum of the building's heating system and the faint sound of a neighbor’s TV. But inside this room, inside this little bubble the two of you created—things felt still. Tentative. Hopeful.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. “How about a real date? Something simple. New. Clean slate.”

You lifted a brow. “You’re asking me out, Kim Mingyu?”

He grinned, his ears slightly pink. “I guess I am.”

“And will there be a warning if you plan on kissing me again? I need emotional prep time now, apparently.”

“Nope.” He smirked. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

You groaned. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

He beamed at that, but then paused. “Friday?”

“Friday,” you echoed.

“Fancy?”

“How fancy are we talking?”

“Fancy enough to make you feel like you’re the only girl in the room.”

Goddamn him.

Your stomach flipped. You tried to play it cool, but your smile gave you away. “I’m going to wear heels, and I’m suing you if I trip.”

“I’ll catch you,” he said, standing up and helping you to your feet. “I always do.”

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek—a featherlight promise—and stepped toward the door.

“I’ll see you Friday,” he said, pausing at the threshold. “Try not to ghost me before then.”

You gave him a mock salute. “No promises.”

Mingyu laughed and disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there like an idiot, grinning at the closed door.

And then your eyes landed on your desk.

On the black leather-bound notebook you hadn’t touched in days.

You walked over, hesitating as you opened it to the last page. The column you’d created—How Close Am I to Falling for Him?—mocked you in perfect, even handwriting. You stared at the number you’d written after your first date. A six.

You flipped the page and wrote one line at the top.

Date three: A ten. I’m so completely fucked.

Then, you closed the journal and shoved it into the drawer, burying it under a stack of abandoned notebooks. You weren’t ready to destroy it—but you didn’t want to look at it either.

Not tonight.

Not when you still hadn’t told him the truth.

Not when everything suddenly felt too close to something real.

You stared at the drawer for a second longer, then turned away and crawled back into bed.

This time, you let yourself smile as you pulled the blanket over your head.

Because whatever happened next—you’d deal with it.

After Friday.