#this is my comfort game now that lost stories has died rip

[soupysuki]

colored some sketches from the con (2/2)

[littlejuicebox]

Mindwinter Carol 5 / The Repeat

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.1K

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot "A Midwinter Carol."

Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur's Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of "A Midwinter Carol," Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover? Or will he ultimately fall victim to his pride and desire for power?

Preview:

Astarion was at the bar, absolutely seething as he downed drink after drink. By the time he caught a whiff of Eirianwen’s blood in the air, he must’ve been on intoxicant number four or five. 

He’d lost count. 

The Ascendant thinks he’s imagining the smell. It wouldn’t be the first time the memory of that particular bouquet haunted him. But then the coppery, sweet, all too familiar scent of both his dreams and nightmares becomes overwhelming. 

The immortal’s heart stops.

It’s a strange sensation, feeling your heart stop in fear. One the Vampire Lord had never known until now. 

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / OOC Ascended Astarion because it follows my epilogue / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore

A/N: Ouch. Fun fact, Delilah is a reference to biblical Delilah and Samson.

-----

“Ani, help me do this. For us. Please.” 

Eirianwen is bleeding out, but she can barely feel it under the waves of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Astarion is clutching Rhapsody in his hand. He looks so lost and worried. He’s panting heavily. He’s drenched in splatters of crimson. 

She wants to reach out and comfort him.

But she can’t think. 

She’s lost a lot of blood. 

Everything is moving too quickly.

“Ani…” He says again, this time more urgently, begging her with his big, round, world-endingly beautiful scarlet eyes, “Please, my love..” 

She thinks this really may be the end for her. 

Her only thought is that she loves him. She loves him so much that it hurts more than the wound in her side. She wants to give him what he wants, even if it’s the last thing she ever does.

Suddenly, she’s using the tadpole to show Astarion the scars on his own back.

She loves him so much she’s ignoring the sickening sounds that arise as the beautiful hands of her lover, the very hands that have brought her impossible moments of pleasure and comfort, gouge giant symbols of a hellish contract into Cazador’s skin.

One moment of weakness from her.

The sickening screams of seven thousand souls.

And then everything goes black.

Astarion had been distracted by the scent of so much blood in the dungeons, the sickly-sweet, coppery, rotten smell overpowered his senses.

He’d nearly died after one misstep in battle, too distracted by the vile memories of this place to operate at his best. 

His weakness would’ve left Ani and his friends alone to face Cazador’s wrath. He’d almost been bested by the bastard that held him captive for two hundred years. 

And that bastard almost got to his Ani.

That bastard did get to his Ani before she blasted him away with ice.

Suddenly, he’s carving infernal into the bastard’s back; ripping into Cazador the way he himself had been torn into over and over again.

Cazador is getting off easy, in comparison – Astarion doesn’t need to make any revisions.

He completes the ritual. The feeling of so much power is overwhelming, at first, just like the coppery scent of this dungeon reminding him of everything he wanted to escape. 

Surely the new power will right all the wrongs, make him forget all the terrors of his past.

Seven thousand screams had been a truly horrifying sound, but it’s no matter, he did what he had to do. He did what he had to do to protect himself. To protect Ani.

After a moment completely engrossed in the feeling of so much raw power, he turns to face his lover, to celebrate.

And the first thing he sees as his new, all-powerful self is the sorceress collapsed on the ground before his eyes, Shadowheart at her side. 

How ironic, that the moment he gained power, he felt instantly powerless again.

Shadowheart was out of spells. They had one measly healing potion left between them, and that had been just enough to keep his little love toeing the line between life and death. 

The rest of the evening was a blur. He’d carried the elven woman back to the Elfsong; Shadowheart and Halsin did everything they could. 

His little love looked so fragile. 

He’d been so consumed by his push for power that he hadn’t even noticed the smell of Ani’s blood seeping out of her abdominal wound, drenching the layers of her robes in crimson. 

He hadn’t even noticed as she began to fade, pushing herself to give him what he asked for.

If she survived this, he would kill seven thousand more souls to keep her safe.

He would be consumed by nothing but her.

He would sacrifice his own soul if he had to.

He owed her that much… after everything. 

-----

Eirianwen doesn’t feel the blade insert itself cleanly between her ribs. But she feels it dragging between two rib bones as Edmund carves a searing arc through her flesh. And then the pain is gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

She tries to move, to cast a spell, but it’s too late. Paralytic oil surges through her bloodstream. Her hands are rigid; her thin fingers, well-made for both playing the piano and spellcasting, are stuck in a curled position. 

Useless.

Defenseless. 

Astarion was at the bar, absolutely seething as he downed drink after drink. By the time he caught a whiff of Eirianwen’s blood in the air, he must’ve been on intoxicant number four or five. 

He’d lost count. 

The Ascendant thinks he’s imagining the smell. It wouldn’t be the first time the memory of that particular bouquet haunted him. But then the coppery, sweet, all too familiar scent of both his dreams and nightmares becomes overwhelming. 

The immortal’s heart stops.

It’s a strange sensation, feeling your heart stop in fear. One the Vampire Lord had never known until now. 

In an instant, Astarion is sprinting toward the dance floor and throwing himself into the throng, searching for Eirianwen. All sense of decorum has left him as he shoves aside more than one dancing couple while looking for the sorceress.

By the time Ani sees the Vampire Lord, she is trapped against Edmund’s wide torso. The cold edge of the dagger presses flush against her neck; she feels a gush of warmth run down her side. Something like this is supposed to hurt, but the paralytics have already numbed around the incision. She vaguely recalls the last time she received a gaping wound to her side.

People are still dancing; no one besides Astarion has caught onto the threat. 

Just as the Ascendant is about to make the last dash toward Edmund and Ani, the sorceress hears someone behind them command “halt” in an airy, bored tone. 

Whispers of magic brush past Eirianwen and she watches Astarion pause on the tips of his toes, mid sprint, before his foot flattens to the ground. He is shaking with the effort to disobey the command; the look of absolute blinding wrath on his face was undeniable.

The damn alcohol had made him slow to react. Idiot.

A sudden gust of wind slams the crowd back, clearing a wide perimeter around Astarion and Ani. Several patrons in the crowd scream as they finally recognize the threat. 

Ani cannot see the woman, but she can hear the seductive purr that naturally rolls out of her voice as she speaks, her tone both cool and menacing, “Apologies for the interruption. But would everyone beside Lord Ancunin and his date depart the dance floor? No need for this to get… messier.” 

Delilah.

Eirianwen uses every last ounce of her strength in an attempt to blast this woman and her henchman with some kind of magic, but to her dismay she cannot move her limbs at all. She’s barely able to hold herself up; Edmund is bearing most of her weight. 

A strangled cry of frustration escapes her throat as chaos erupts and the crowd breaks away from the scene, running desperately from the building.

A bunch of rich cowards. Maybe she shouldn’t have saved them all those years ago.

Astarion is glaring daggers at the half-elven woman. Fucking Delilah. He knew the bitch was dangerous, but in his arrogance he truly never imagined she would dare to turn on him.

Delilah sends another wave of magic from her hands with a second simple, bored command.

“Kneel.”

Eirianwen watches in horror as the previously invincible Ascendant crashes to his knees, forced to obey the command by pink tendrils of malignant magic coiling around his limbs. It was terrifying to see the most powerful elf she knew crumble mere feet from her, outdone by a simple spell he’d unfailingly evaded as a mere vampire spawn. 

Her heart thuds in her chest, quickening the spread of the paralytics.

The reality is that Astarion feels the second compulsion, but this command doesn’t truly take. In a split second decision, he willingly dropped to his knees and let Delilah believe she had the upper hand. Anything to keep the focus on him and off of Ani. The smell of her blood was burning his nostrils at this point. 

The Ascendant suddenly thinks this all feels too terribly familiar. Has he become the predator, kneeling in front of his prey? 

Astarion’s eyes flicker to Eirianwen. And there, in the look on his face, the sorceress realizes that kneeling had been a choice. Ascendent or not, were the male elf truly trapped and forced to kneel before anyone, he would be unable to conceal the terror caused by his lack of control. She is certain of this.

But instead, the Vampire Lord’s face only contains rage mixed with the subtle flickers of the gears turning within his mind. 

Delilah reaches her hand toward Astarion and tightly grips his chin, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Ani and acknowledge the half-elf. She flashes him a sickening, arrogant smile as she stares down at the kneeling Ascendant, obviously quite pleased with herself. 

The woman murmurs, her voice deceptively sweet, “Hmm… I do believe this is the first time you have ever been on your knees for me. You’re so pretty like this, little Star. Shame it will be the only time I ever get to see it.”

She offers a condescending tut and a dramatic pout before lifting the hem of her dress and withdrawing a petite dirk that had been sheathed at her side. She grins as she flashes the blade at Astarion; she’s loving this. 

The knife comes to his face, The Vampire Lord feels a faint sting as she traces a thin line upon his cheek with the point, stopping to let blood drip on the blade as she holds the Ascendant’s gaze. Astarion’s jaw tightens and his nostrils flare as he chooses to allow the woman to move forward with her show. His hand balls into a tight fist.

“Hmm…” She hums as she examines the blood, and then her hands find purchase in his hair and she yanks sharply at the curls behind his ears, causing Astarion to grit his teeth in pain, “And for good measure.”

She uses the blade to cut a strip of the Vampire Lord’s curls. 

A yowl rips through the venue, and Edmund releases the blade that had been pressed against Ani’s neck; it falls to the ground with a sharp clatter. 

Umber has lodged herself on the man’s back, sharp claws digging into the nape of his neck as she uses her teeth to rip at his ear. He is forced to release his hold on Ani as the cat continues to voraciously defend the sorceress.

Astarion takes the opportunity and launches himself forward, knocking into Delilah on his way to Eirianwen. He barely manages to catch her crumpling form just as the doors to the venue burst open.

Wyll, Jaheira, and a Flaming Fist rush toward the altercation. Someone shouts a stun spell at Edmund, causing him to freeze and fall mid-scuffle, but by the time anyone turns to focus their attention on Delilah, she is gone. 

“Astarion–” Ani manages to choke out before her tongue stills within her mouth. Another strangled sound comes from her vocal cords as she tries again. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes as the Ascendant shushes her, quickly swiping at her cheeks to catch the falling droplets.

And then he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the sorceress’s face and fall into commander mode, clinging to every shred of his control and stifling his fear. 

But gods, he’s terrified. He hasn’t felt like this since–

No time for that now. 

“We don’t have much time,” Astarion starts as the others gather around him, “Jaheira, the rings I won at the auction, I need them. Quickly!”

Jaheira simply turns and sprints back behind the stage without another word. The Flaming Fist focuses on Edmund, working to restrain his passed-out form.

Wyll is glaring at Astarion, “I’m sure this is your fault you–”

“We don’t have time to place blame, Wyll!” The Ascendant snaps, “Delilah’s paralytics aren’t like others you’ve seen. If we don’t move quickly–” 

He stops. Eirianwen’s heart is slowing, he can hear it. 

His scarlet eyes, filled with the weight of a thousand things he’s never said, pierce into her golden ones. Blood trickles in thin streams down Astarion’s cheek but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“I’ve got you, little love.” The Ascendant promises, gripping tightly onto the elven woman. 

If she survives this, he will do anything she wants of him.

He will find his own soul again if she wants him to.

He owes her that much… after everything.

Ani suddenly thinks this all feels too terribly familiar. Can someone cheat death twice? 

The anguish Eirianwen feels because she cannot say anything is incomparable; she searches for an ounce of comfort in the beautiful eyes that haunt her dreams and nightmares. She is going to die, and Astarion will never know she found his mother. And his brother.

Her last thought as she’s gazing into Astarion’s all too familiar scarlet orbs is that perhaps this isn’t the worst way to die. Let her last vision in this life be of the rubies she willingly gave up and yet longed for every day thereafter. 

She will find them again in the next life.

Everything goes black just as Jaheira appears from behind the stage and runs toward them with the velvet box in hand.

-----

Story navigation: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

[monamipencil]

op, you genius.

when i tell you this story had a chokehold on me??? this was way too fucking good. the plot, their chemistry, their fucking characters, the ending, THE PLOT TWISTS. everything was so damn good and well crafted?

morally grey characters and unreliable narrators will always have my heart.

the fucking plot. this was perfect from the start to finish. this had me on the edge of my seat at all times. i didn't even suspect the possibility of this ending. you didn't just make her fool the characters but me too??? that's talent. my jaw dropped multiple times while reading this. man, this was such a good read. i got another story to gush about to my friends.

mingyu. i always had an eye out for him. it was so easy to pin it all on him, yk? and i did not fucking see him using her. the chemistry just seemed so genuine that i didnt even suspect. he's so witty and intelligent. i rly loved his char. and he's hot?? ughh. i folded when i read he was wearing a red suit. but shit, he worked so well as a red herring.

oc. man, oc was a wild ride. istg, i felt so much sympathy for her and actually understood her. but i never guessed she would've kill him. what a twist. she was such an enigma too. i love cut throat female leads. her sarcasm, and her no-filter, no bs personality >>> loved her with everything. and i said, i support women's and i support women's wrongs too. like, kill him girl!!

the pairing. hater girl x lover boy (who has a murderous streak.) ngl, the hate game was so hot too. their bickering and undeniable chemistry was hot. and when they started understanding and accepting each other ?? ughh. the fluff was so good. dont even get me started on the smut, dammit. even when it came down to him (initially) trying to pin everything down on her, i just wanted them to talk shit out (she's way too nice and patient, i personally would've poisoned him 🥰) but she was the murderer all along?!?!? yes, i've lost it. and when it just took one glance for them to pounce on the investigator??? ugh the last line was the nail on the coffin. who doesn't love good ol' murderous love stories.

as a crime fanatic and a romanticist, this was everything i've ever wanted. tysm for writing this and sharing this with us!! you're such a genius op, i will look forward to your future writings <3

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

ughhh, the contrast to the last time. they rly grew on each other. i love them so much

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

this scene got me so hot and bothered. their chemistry???

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

asdfghjkl, *squeals and dies*

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

what? not the foreboding plss. not after that vulnerable scene 😭😭

 i can only think of one person who fits the criteria — his daughter.”

*cues seokmin's betrayed expression from the mafia game*

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

why am i siding for them to get ack together like i wont rip his head off irl?

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

i've lost it ig. i'm siding with a murderer. but her father was diabolical. and "it’s like he sees a different version of himself staring back at him." 😭😭 nothing more vulnerable than seeing yourself in someone else.

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

lola losing her sanity pt. 3. im just a girl, guys 🎀

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

desperate men who'd go to hell and back for you and worship the ground you walk on >>>

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

WHAT?! IT WAS HER? my jaw is hung open. why tf did i not see that coming. wtf

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

the plot twists after plot twists?!?! i support women's rights. i also support women's wrongs. kill him girl.

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

oc is the ultimate girl boss. i love her

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

this is the perfect way to end this story. and ??!?!?! damn, this was a wild ride and i loved it so much.

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

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

WORD COUNT — 13.5k

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

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

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

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

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ TWO ]

viii. I LOVE YOU LIKE A DRUG

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why?”

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

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

“and what kind of relationship is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“interesting choice of words.”

“god, you’re such a perv.”

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

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

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

you want him.

you. want. him. and no one else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it was just the heat of the moment.”

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

arrogance, perhaps.

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

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

then he nods in understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gyu, we were supposed to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and he just lets you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yeah, you fucking like him. jesus.

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

“would you?”

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

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

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

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

“can’t help that i like what i see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but he’s not talking about your day.

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

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

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

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

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

ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it’s a good feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

unfortunately, neither of the codes work.

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

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

it worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tape three.

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

tape four.

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

tape five.

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

tape six.

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

tape seven.

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

tape eight.

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

tape nine.

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

tape ten.

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

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

everything falls into place.

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

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

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

terrifyingly alone, more than ever before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“know what?”

“that you killed my fucking father.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“can’t we talk about—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i was going to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“please don’t say that.”

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

“i swear to you—”

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

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

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

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

god, he seems so genuine in it, too.

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

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

he does.

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

x. WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did my appearance surprise you?”

as you recognize his voice, your blood runs cold.

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

“you have some nerve showing up here.”

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

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

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

“is that what you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m not demanding, i’m asking.”

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

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

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

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

“are you? what are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“everything okay?”

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

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

fuck. how much of the conversation did he hear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i wanted to talk about the investigation.”

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

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

“which is?”

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

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

“you were just speaking to him, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

“me?”

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

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

you subtly glance down at your phone for a moment.

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

yet not a single word comes out of your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hang up right after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

of course it’s him.

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

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

as if it’s natural.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“we’re gonna cover it up.”

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

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

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

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

well, you have a point there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xi. I HATE YOU LIKE MY OWN REFLECTION

“so, what do we do now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll lose everything!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and?”

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

“no.”

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

“no.”

his brows knit together. “so…”

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

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

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

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

well, he fucked up. miserably.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

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

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

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

“no i don’t.”

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

“gyu—”

“i like it when you call me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

but something in you is still fighting back.

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

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

“something we shouldn’t.”

“why not?”

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

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

his words are true — but it still hurts.

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

“yeah. and so are you.”

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

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

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

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

god. he’s really that into you?

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

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

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

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

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

“what if i like him better than you?”

“you wouldn’t.”

“why? ‘cause you’re so likeable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck—gyu—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fine — i like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he did.”

“did you?”

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

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

“i could still do it, y’know.”

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

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

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

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

extremely strange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“coming to visit me at this hour?”

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

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

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

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

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

oh, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

mingyu seems confused. “attempted?”

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

“me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

one last sacrifice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[jet-bradley]

hey splatoon fans, while you're waiting for side order i highly recommend playing TRON 2.0

it's a FPS sequel to TRON that came out in 2003. it's about the now-adult son of two of the main human characters from the original TRON movie getting sucked into a virus-infected computer, and in the process of trying to disinfect the computer, he uncovers a plot from the company taking over his parents' company to use their laser technology to digitize armies of humans and take over the world.

do i have you hooked yet?

if i don't, consider this: i'm recommending it in huge part because it's largely a story about jet, the protagonist, learning to reconnect with his dad after they both lost his mom, who died in a workplace laser accident and was most likely partially digitized. the digitization laser was her own life's work. the digitization AI, MA3A, takes on lora's voice after her death (and is voiced by lora's actress from the original film), and there are workplace rumors that it's because alan incorporated the digitized portions of her remains into MA3A's code. jet spends a lot of the game defending his mom's digital/digitized ghost from external threats.

what i'm getting at is that if you're excited for side order because of how it's hinted at dealing with themes of grief in a y2k digital landscape... they're mostly subtext in TRON 2.0 but i still think the game is seriously up your alley.

if you're a splatoon fan who hasn't played many other shooter games before, TRON 2.0 is a great introduction to the PC shooter world imo. if you're squeamish about blood/gore/giblets flying everywhere, there's none of that in TRON 2.0. if you're a splatoon fan because you like shooters but you've never given TRON 2.0 a chance, this is your sign!

some pros of TRON 2.0:

it looks fucking awesome

TRON 2.0 has a very turn-of-the-century take on the aesthetics of the original TRON. it predates tron legacy by seven years and it doesn't have any of that apple-store aesthetic. it's got all the juicy colors of the original film, with lots of crisp details that the original animation hardware couldn't handle. the digital world of TRON 2.0 only gets better every year with age. meanwhile it's got a (for its time) state-of-the-art glow mechanic that gives the game a very comforting soft feel.

and these are just the ones i've got on my own PC! (the last one i dont know if it's my, screenshot but the rest are from my own screenshots folder).

it can run on basically any PC

no, fr, this required some pretty good hardware when it came out... but the game turned 20 this year. i managed to run TRON on my old laptop after it very nearly split in half like a 2ds and took half an hour to boot by using my parents' TV as a monitor. it didn't even drop that many frames! this was in 2020. it didnt even have a graphics card.

yeah i was a grown adult when that photo was taken. no i dont care that i look 13. my car had just burst an engine rod in the middle of the desert about 48 hours before this was taken, so my fit wasn't really at the top of my priorities. (don't ask.)

you can get it DRM-free

don't get the steam version y'all, i can vouch for it being super glitchy. i can basically only run it while using mods to launch it without contacting steam. get it from gog.com.

ethics note: pirate the TRON movies as much as you want but im pretty sure the original company still gets some bucks when you buy 2.0 legally, and disney fucked them over pretty bad when it comes to the rights to TRON 2.0's characters and story, and they ripped off half the plot of the game to make the movie (and the movie is worse). if you don't wanna drop $10 wait for a gog sale and drop $3. (and honestly, if you're paying $20/year to get disconnected every 15 matches in splatoon, even paying $10 for a good retro game isn't the worst financial decision you've ever made.)

[handelplayssims]

Still farming relaxing surroundings while 9S games. Aiming for 2B’s hang-at-a-lot-for-8-hours-whim. 9S wants to be romantic with 2B but she’s practicing yoga at the moment so I’ll set him to do things elsewhere...until I remember that it’s not just a yoga session but the whole actual practice yoga bit so I then had her and 9S spar. 2B then said some romantic words to 9S so you know what time it is?

Proposal time. If you think these two would have a wedding event, think again. They elope immediately. 2B is just not one for ceremony. (Would head to the courts if I had Wedding Stories but I don’t) 2B’s next whim is to mourn and so I go to where I think there is a grave. Oakenstead, what was the initial home for my file but is now a wedding venue...and where a grave of one of my lost sims is at. Grave is there but alas, no mourn option. Instead I switch tracks to fish. 2B does actually like to fish so let’s do that for a bit. And with it, she became emotionally mindful. Managed to get the centered emotion this time.

But enough about 2B? What about 9S? Whim is to...be disliked by Penny Pizzaz. Welp. Let’s head on over to her apartment and pester her. Which we do so. Oh hey, her boyfriend Don Lothario introduced himself to 9S. Nice. Chat’s were kinda eh and not going anywhere so let’s head home to play some chess with 2B. Next whim is going on a date so let’s head out to a park around Mt. Komorebi? Why there? Because after we fulfil the date requirements, we can go fishing in the stream nearby! 2B does like that fishing. And they gained the Comfortably Compatible lifestyles. Nice. 2B headed home but 9S had a whim to get a collectable so let’s go pick up a Simmi from a vending machine. Then he wants to solve hard problems and then...debate with geeks some more. We’ll go visit Liberty Lee and in doing so check-

Neighborhood Watch!

Raiden Bello in the Bello household is now a Scuba Instructor in the Diver career.

Aoi Saito in the Saito household has died. Aoi thought she could conquer a mountain, but the mountain conquered her.

RIP the repair lady!

Right, let’s continue on. We’ll have that debate with Liberty and then game a bit with her. After said game, we’re returning immedately home. 9S just wants to stay by 2B thanks to his jealous nature. And so he goes and gets all cuddly with 2B. Romance socials is fine but I’m a little bored with the two just doing that, so I had 2B instruct 9S to try some yoga. Within her close proximity of course. Whim’s finally done so 9S is going to play some chess and 2B will once again farm relaxing interactions.

Miko Ojo decided to drop in! A chess opponent for 9S! Might as well also introduce her to 2B, seeing as Miko is a moderately famous politician around San Myshuho. And karaoke singer, that as well. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand he’s immediately jealous of 2B when she even spoke with Miko. Jesus game. There’s jealous and then there’s overbearing. But hey! 2B finished the Inner Peace aspiration! Now she can do...this!

A huge positive buff to keep negative moods away! -tiny horn toot- Next thing’s next...hmm. I guess we’ll go fishing. Might want to move homes for this. Even if you can fish from the ocean side in San Myshuno, might still be a more fun idea to just go out and find somewhere else to fish. Somewhere more natural.

9S is going to go hack again and- well, I was going to go spar with the fitness machine but I forgot what time it is. It’s past 10PM. It’s disturbing your neighbors by working out at night time. And her whim is to spar at the gym but I want 9S to finish off his hacks before I leave total control to 2B. So some yoga and meditate to help finish off the wellness skill she hasn’t capped yet.

Neighborhood Watch!

Ariella Blum in the Blum household has died. Ariella wore winter clothes during a heat wave and overheated.

Newcrest: The Paoa household moved out.

Saanvi Parikh in the Parikh household left her job as an Icon O’Class in the Trend Setter career.

Mizuki Inoue in the Inoue household has started a job as a Home Organizer in the Interior Decorator career.

Mt. Komorebi: The Kobayashi household recently moved out.

Bryanna Noble in the Noble household has died. Bryanna tried to make cereal but it burst into flames.

[kimnjss]

just hanging out | jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps. 

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable. 

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward. 

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful? 

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions. 

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it. 

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @houseofarmanto @preciouschimine @chocobetterknot @kookiesjoonies @ashleyjoyx @thia-aep @jinhitwhore @silentlyimpractical @acc3ssdenied @triviasjms @joonies-babyy @bangtansonyeondayyyum @bangtan-noona @mipetronella @lilacdreams-00 @strawberryforever25 @tae165 @jikooksgirl19 @dee-ehn @butterflylion @alterlovess @joontopia @my-odd-mix @yeontanie21 @sw33tnight​ @kookiesdoe @daydreambrliever​ @elliemeetsevil​ @hellotherehoneybee​ @bangtansbun​ @taefect94​ @tricethecharm​ @pjmcth​ @0xmysticx0​ @samros95​ @codeinebelle​ @vmin-soulmate​ @bluewhale52​ @thecityrain​ @rageyoudamnednerd​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @diminieshoe​ @kelitt​ @soulstaes​ @ayyyocee​ @betysotelo18​

⇝ taglist: @elephantdoors​ @ratking101​ @amour-quinn​ @gemad08​ @yoooonie​ @ughtear​ @ambersaesthetics​ @peachy-tata​ @moonlitmyg​ @trinityxsope​ @diorhobii​ @miagracegrande​ @tom-hollands-wife​ @loveyoongles​ @seokjinslittledumpling​ @kerikaaria​ @ggukkieland​ @gwsyoongi​ @salty-for-suga​ @beeeb05​ @dionysusrage​ @jungkookspromise​ @princecalpal​ @agustneeds​ @neverthefirstchoice​  @agustdakasuga​ @veronawrites​ @omot7​ @agirlintheparkjimin​ @wildly-lost-lantern​ @goldenkookietae​ @ephyraaaa​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @sungieshines​ @embrace-themagic​ @kim-ji-hyeons-world​  @mrksmrks​ @hyunjinhasmyheart​ @paddingtonrue​ @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​ @niieceyy​ @lowlifeoeuvre​ @lee-karliah​ @angiexyoung​ @marifujioka​ @softlyjins​ @mochibabycakes​ @producerjk​ @hqtetsurou​ 

⇝ taglist: @heyitsbreeeeee​ @munkey888​ @bbyjoonies​ @prdshobi​ @myworldisgone11​ @kthvol6​ @soloikeadates​ @illwritetomorrow​  @jiminbabyluv​ @parkjammys​ @mypurplelamp​ @namjinsbbyj​ @hansolsrightnut​ @vanillabrightlightning​ @huhuehuey​ @jiminshibaby​ @rjsmochii​ @certifiedcrazycatlady​ @jayyayyy17​ @my-current-mood-is​ @bangpink123​ @btsbed​ @definitely-not-tina​ @jeonsbae01​ @metaethically​ @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @ardenlovesyou​ @simplymemyself​ @jin-from-the-block​ @janieooo​ @xxstrangegirlxxx​ @pastelbleuet​ @pxjiminsi​ @ruinsofangels​ @ladyarmanto​ @bloopkook​ @hopiebabie​ @bigimpression​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @hisunshiine​ @uxwi​ @yayo-kittty​ @taejinminsu​ @miss-jupiter​ @btsbangtanbois​ @sugalou​ @pjminmin​ @lukeofmine​ @94ser0da​ @kim-jias-den​

⇝ taglist: @imezz @itookallthejamsbruh @kimsouthjoon @ephyra1230​ @telepathylftv @awhnamjoon @jkismyasmr @eyereen @gldnrecs​ @jiminddaeng​ @morndas​

⇝ taglist: @squirrelandcrafts @sweetnight @kooafraid @trynavibewhileicry @eatjeanjin @nightapple4jk @localjisung @aureumjeon @kooknova @ardoren @diamonddia-mond @dammit-jjk @jwlmnbt @jiminsreads @poisoneveyyy @girlontheblock @bunny-on-crack @sweetestdreamssuga @tommasauras @cecedrake2217 @bangtan-ology @hobiismyhopeu @subtlepjiminie @bangtangrl @kooks3uphoria @vampgguk @alpaca1612 @gukkiecuddles @hazefilter @nochujjk97 @smol1 @mama-m0chi @blue1928 @babelleerr @awhnamjoon @rlynotme @jaywalksalloverme @bansheehunteremissary @kai1697jeon @giadalin @ladyartemesia @xxunmeixsenpaixx @ot7always-main @msunnsstuff @tew-atx @lierr007 @bishuthot @jaebeomsblackgf @taexmichi @lovingele @patpus @anothershorthuman @izzyexe @clouds-of-my-breathe @okaysoplshelpme​ @chogiyeol-utopia​​ @iforgotthemelody​​ @kookiepout​​ @sunshine-ybba​​ @lovelyseomin​​ @super-btstrash-posts​ @calikoocat​  @richkookie​ @yoong-i​ 

A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[neonnoir-ao3]

Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

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Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

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(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

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What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

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With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

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Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

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Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

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Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

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I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

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💙

[gucciwins]

Frosty the Snowman

Harry and Y/N love the holiday season but Harry takes the teasing a bit to far and well Y/N decides to give it right back. 

Word Count: 5126

A/N: hello! thank you so much to @goldenbluesuit for organizing this wonderful christmas fic challenge. thank you for allowing me to participate, kate. i’m so happy i got to be a part of it. merry christmas and happy holidays to you all. sending you all a big hug and lots of love. 

_____

Christmas has never been much of importance in your life.

That was until you began dating Harry.

 Harry and his family loved celebrating in particular because Harry was gone for so many months of the year. They loved giving gifts, and Harry loved spoiling his family. He was a true family man who loved to be doted on by his mother and teased relentlessly by his older sister. His smile never leaves his face when he's with them.  

Ever since Harry found out how you spent the holidays alone drinking wine and hot chocolate on and off and binging all the best holiday movies. He declared that was not acceptable and that furthermore and until the end of time you would be spending it with him and his family. 

The first year was something out of a storybook, a house full of kids and adults, Christmas music all day, and a big festive dinner. Gifts passed around, photos being taken to be added to the end of year scrapbooks. Lots of stories being told; honestly, it overwhelmed you. 

Anne found you outside wrapped up in Harry's coat that you swiped before slipping out unseen. She stood next to you, overlooking her garden with you. "My son loves you; he's brought you here not to overwhelm you but to let you know that you have a family here, and you always will." You let your tears run free, feeling comforted, and loved. "I've never seen him shine as bright as he does when he's with you and when he's speaking of you. We all want you here as much as he does." Anne then pulled you into a long hug, the motherly hug you never got growing up.  Reminded you not to stay out too long. 

Three Christmases later, you now take part in family traditions, helping Anne cook dinner and staying in sweats and playing family games all of Boxing Day. 

It's what makes your move to London with your boyfriend of four years easy. Knowing they want you there, knowing that the love Harry has for you won't fade, you've gone through many hurdles together, and it only strengthened your bond to one another. 

Four years together, and you're still learning new things about each other, like Harry having to have coffee first thing in the morning, bread was a must-have always in the house, and that he owned more mugs than he needed. He picked up that you adored your shoes, meaning you wouldn't throw them out until they were ripped and beat up enough for a new pair. Also learned that you rather eat lots of fruit during the day than making food in the kitchen because it meant more dishes that would be needed to wash. You loved doing the laundry, Harry knew it was to steal his shirts, but he didn't mind. He always knew where to find them. 

The one thing that really surprised him was your love for Christmas music; you knew every song, maybe couldn't remember the name, but you would be able to sing it. It never failed to make him smile; you even knew ‘Feliz Navidad’ and didn't butcher it as he did. 

Your love for Christmas music was signified because you never celebrated the holiday, and music was easy to access. It was what you immersed yourself in. 

This is why Harry is confused when he hears you begin to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ under your breath, then switching to a soft hum in the tune of the song as you start to place your freshly washed sweats in their drawers. 

Harry was not sure why you did that; you loved singing out loud. You had a decent voice, as you liked to say, but why switch. 

You're clueless to Harry watching you, deep in thought, trying his best to analyze you. 

Then Harry gasps; it all clicks, making sense. 

You raise your head to look at him, shutting the drawer with your hip. "What?"

"You don't know the lyrics." Harry accuses. 

"To what?" You step towards the bed, wanting to finish the rest of this to finally go down and each lunch. 

"Frosty the Snowman."

"I do." You defend.

Harry smirks, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"No." 

"Why not?"

You frown before taking a deep breath and begin to hum the song correctly to Harry. 

"Okay, you know the tune, now the lyrics." He gestures for you to go on.

"Frosty the snowman..." Your voice dies down, you rake your brain for the correct lyrics, sending a smaller prayer you're right. "had a shiny nose?" 

"Oh, this is golden, love." He's laughing now. It's filling up the room. 

"Harry," You whine. 

"You call yourself the Christmas Queen." Harry is holding his stomach, his laughter getting to be too much. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't know the lyrics to 'All I Want For Christmas Is You.'"

"How dare you, that came out in our birth year." You're over making fun of you. 

"Okay fine, but really so many years, and you never learned. You said you love all Christmas music, and well, that's a classic, dove."  

You run a hand through your hair, your fingers getting caught on the tips for not brushing it out. "I never actually got to make a snowman, so I never listened to the lyrics."

"Are you secretly a Grinch as well?" Harry teases.

You throw a balled-up shirt of his and hit him square in the face; it quiets him down. "Conversation over." 

You walk out of the room, leaving him alone, to his chuckling. 

_____

In your home, something was always baking. 

It was either Harry trying to better his last bread or you baking a new vegan cake that Gemma sent you. 

It's something you both loved to do.

For you, though, it was your own form of meditation. No matter the time of day, if you felt your head spinning, you'd just head to the kitchen and begin to take out ingredients letting that be your only focus. The Great British Baking Show also brings a lot of comfort to you, Harry happily laying his head on your lap, your hand running through his hair as you just let the show play on and on. 

Now, you're in the kitchen for a whole other reason; you're baking gingerbread cookies, from snowflakes to snowman and even little reindeer. Harry has invited friends over for a fun holiday decorating party. It sounded like a good idea until he left you to do it all yourself as he ran errands that he pushed off for a week. 

Thankfully, there were no distractions during the time it took you to make one hundred cookies because there would be casualties during the decorating. Just as you were putting the last dozen on the cooling rack, does your phone ring causing it to cut off Paul McCartney's singing of 'Wonderful Christmastime.'

As you pick it up to answer, you check the caller id and see that it's Gemma calling. 

Gemma forgoes a greeting and goes straight to the reason for her call. 

"You don't know 'Frosty the Snowman!'" She exclaims more than asks. 

"I'm going to kill him." You groan into the phone. 

Gemma laughs, "No, no, please don't. Mum likes you too much to see you behind bars."

"Gem, he's been relentless." Thinking back to the past few days and how he'd randomly come up to you and just begin to sing the lyrics to you, not shutting up until you tickled him too much to continue. "Please don't let it come up later." 

"I've got you," Gemma assures you. 

"Thank you."

"As long," Gemma begins, but you groan jokingly into the phone. 

"Go on," You sigh, knowing this is how the eldest Styles sibling acts.  

"As long as you tell me what Harry bought mum for Christmas."

"Alright, fair." Very well, Harry would most likely spoil this himself the closer the holiday arrives. 

Just as you were about to spoil Harry's gift, he walks through the kitchen, saved by the devil himself. "I'll tell you later when you get here." You tell Gemma, smiling at Harry as you bid his sister goodbye.  

"Who was it, love?" Harry asks, kissing you lightly on your lips, being able to taste the gingerbread on your lips that makes him beeline to the cooled cookies. 

"Gems, a huge birdie told her I don't know the lyrics to a popular song." You lean against the counter, smiling as he has a cookie in hand already; he is also a big reason you made so many. 

"Hey," He says, offended, a cookie half shoved in his mouth. "I'm not huge." 

"Never said it was you, hun." You smirk. "Thanks for fessing up."

He pouts, not liking that you outsmarted him. 

"Might want to watch the cookies." You pinch his love handles, snatching what was left of the cookie from his hand and heading upstairs. 

Harry watches you walk away, upset that you stole his cookie; also, he knows you love his winter gains. 

_____

You and Harry are up fairly early, he likes to go on a run around the neighborhood, but you like going to the park. This morning you skipped your run because Harry was meeting up with a friend for breakfast. 

Sure, you got up at your usual time at 7am and began to prepare yourself breakfast. You usually drank coffee with Harry and seeing as he wasn't here, you decided to skip it, instead going straight to the fridge to get the fruits and orange juice to make a smoothie. Something simple, not wanting to clean much after. 

As you finally settled on the couch, getting ready to read Educated by Tara Westover, a book Gemma recommended to her then gifted to her. Tara's memoir is her story of how she comes from a Mormon background and recounts how she educated herself to go to college and learn about the world. It's a Friday, and what better way to spend it lost in a book. 

You had just flipped it open when your phone rang, alerting you to a message. As much as you didn't want to check because you were finally in a comfortable position, you knew it could easily be Harry checking in who gets worried about not getting a reply even five minutes after. He's a worrier at heart. 

As you retrieve it and settle yourself back down, not at all comfortable anymore, you see it's a message from Iz. She was the first friend you made on your own that Harry didn't introduce you to. Iz saw you at a coffee shop you began to frequent and complimented your tote bag that had wildflowers embroidered on it. You thanked her and shared you made it. Iz was shocked, just throwing compliment after compliment. You offered to make her one, but she said you had better teach her instead. Thus, a friendship began. 

Her message read: 

Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Listen in! 

It was definitely a strange message coming from Iz, but you did as told. 

Greg James was saying goodbye to his special guest, no idea who it was. "Before he signs off, he's going to play you one of his favorite Christmas songs," Greg says, then silences, allowing his guest a moment before speaking. 

"This week's Christmas song is in honor of my girlfriend who loves singing Frosty the Snowman... without knowing the lyrics. Happy Holidays."  

Your jaw drops. 

That your boyfriend's voice. You are the girlfriend. 

He went on record. 

Harry really went on live radio to tell thousands that you don't know the lyrics to a Christmas classic. 

You want to laugh because you never expected this from him and are annoyed that something personal now the whole world will know by the end of the day. 

You can't wait until he arrives home.

"Harry Edward Styles!" You yell as you hear Harry open the front door. 

He looks sheepish. "Yes, my darling angel."

"You told me you were having breakfast with Greg James, not that you were going to be on the Breakfast show."

"I took muffins, and they provided coffee, therefore, breakfast." Harry defends

"You exposed me to all of the UK to not knowing 'Frosty the Snowman.'"

"No one knows you're my girlfriend." Harry tries to brush it off.

"We've been dating four years; I'm not that much of a secret. Anne posts me on her story from time to time, and your friends follow my Instagram, fuck; you've introduced me to Greg." You're not angry, more annoyed than anything because he won't let this go.

"It's just to give everyone a good laugh; no one is going to hold it against you." 

"No, just my boyfriend and everyone who listens to the Breakfast Show." You cross your arms before storming up the stairs away from Harry. 

"Love? You're not actually mad, right?" Harry asks, pushing the bedroom door open. 

"You even got Iz on it!" Your turn around with a pout on your face. 

Harry laughs. "I honestly thought she wouldn't go through with it."

"Well, I see where her loyalty lies." 

Harry steps close and pulls you into his chest. You sigh, wrapping your arms around him. He knows how much you love his hugs.

"I promise this is the last I mention of it." 

You frown into his chest, not at all believing him. Harry pats your bum, and you take that as the queue to look up at him. He's smiling down at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck. "I promise." 

"Okay, then." You lean in and kiss him, firmer this time and much longer. Harry sneaks his tongue in, instantly getting a moan out of you. 

"I know how you can make it up to me." You gasp, pulling away, 

Harry raises an eyebrow at you. "Do tell." 

A smirk on both your faces as you guide him to the bed, very much hungry for something that wasn't breakfast. 

_____

Harry has the Christmas playlist running; it's a Sunday, meaning they spend it at home doing absolutely nothing. To be truthful, they rolled out of bed past ten and still have their pj's on. Not at all bothering to change, why waste more clothes if no one will see them like this in the comfort of their own home.

You cooked grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and now are playing a game of scrabble.

Harry puts down the word 'light,' then reaching his hand into the black pouch to pick five letters to have seven once again. You are looking back and forth between the board and your letters, thinking of the best place to place your word. 

"I've got a question," Harry says, looking at you, wanting all your attention as well. 

"What is it?" You're focused on your letters. Rearranging them, not putting down the 'q' in your hand. It's currently useless but will eventually give you a word to win the game. Not that you both ever keep points, oh no, that stopped after you beat harry 120 to 66, and he flipped the board, causing letters to fly everyone. You still claim that there are missing letters. 

"Frosty is a cute name."

"Reminds me of that Wendy's dessert. I'm still not sure what made it so good." You say, maybe you should get up and eat some. Harry did just pick up new flavors that he had been wanting to try something about them being richer in flavor. 

"You're getting off track." 

"Sorry, Frosty is cute for what?" You don't let him answer before you're speaking again. "A dog, did you get a dog?" You pause, looking up at him, "a cat, did Anne find a stray and wants to give them to us?" You wait, but Harry is about to crush all your excitement. 

"None of that." He shakes his head at you, and disappointment fills you immediately. 

"Well, can this conversation end then? I'm disappointed." 

"Darling," Harry chastises you for not letting him go on.

"Go on then, mate." You gesture him to continue. Shifting your attention away from the game in front of you.

Harry frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in the sweet way that makes you want to rub them out until he's relaxed. "Why'd you call me, mate?"

"Oh, I've called you this before." You brush off Harry's reactions; he's always dramatic. 

"I'm not your friend." He states.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head and really look at Harry. "Well, of course, you are boyfriend," You emphasize, dragging out the word. "You're my best friend." 

"You can't say boyfriend anymore. I'm your fiancé now." Harry states proudly, but you feel a little dumbfounded, not knowing why he is saying that.

Your eyes widen when you look down at your left hand, and no ring rests on your left ring finger.

"Fuck, I missed your proposal, and the ring got lost." You pout, trying your best to stop the smirk from coming out.  

"Darling, I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. "I'm still your boyfriend, but I will be proposing soon." He promises. "Shit, you were supposed to not even know. I really am bad at hiding things."

"Fuck, you really are." You laugh, "but boyfriend sounds cute. Can't I still say boyfriend when you do?" 

"Doesn't fiancé sound nicer?" Harry tries. 

You shrug. "Not as fun, husband is nice."

"You're rejecting my future proposal, then." Harry is teasing, and you can tell by the sparkle in his forest eyes. 

"Of course not, you dummy. You can be my fiancé and my boyfriend." You tell him like it was the most obvious answer.

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Rude." You stick your tongue at him. 

"Right, love, well try to remember I'm your husband once we're married, no more boyfriend."

"I will, hubby. You're going to be my hubby."

You both go silent.

You burst out laughing, "That's awful, I hate it."

Harry chuckles, nodding his head. "Yeah, I do as well."

"This is why I'm the brains in the relationship." 

"Right," Harry rolls his eyes at you, not at all agreeing.

"Uh, darling, I went to uni and got two degrees while you only finished school at sixteen before going off to steal millions of hearts around the world." 

"Including yours." He teases.

"I was always more a Zayn girl." You correct him.

Harry throws his arms up, "Can never let me win, can you?" 

"Nope"

"We're off-topic." Harry realizing how far they strayed from their starting point. 

"Where did we start?"

"Frosty." 

You sit back, resting against the couch; you take him in and smile at how cuddly he looks in the purple robe that he stopped letting you use. "Well, go on."

"Seeing as-" He pauses, hearing the familiar opening notes to the song he was thinking of. 'Frosty, the Snowman' is now his favorite song. "Perfectly timed, as you don't know the lyrics to Frosty the snowman."

"Gosh, you're never going to let this go," You grumble. 

"Nope. I figured we will have a little fun with this."

"More fun than the breakfast show." 

He gives you a pointed look.

You let out a long sigh, "Let's hear it." 

"You learn all the lyrics and sing it for me, and I'll let you get us a dog or cat." Harry's grinning at his idea, knowing you'll agree without a fight. 

"Can we go to the shelter?" You look like a kid on Christmas morning who had just received their presents from Santa, and in a way, you have.

"Yes, we can. Only if you can learn the entire song." Harry tells you again, wanting to emphasize the singing.

"Done deal." 

"Great, I'm giving you a week." 

You smile wide, nodding, looking, finally focusing back down at your words and the ones Harry has placed. You put down the word 'queen,' and this wins you the non-official game. Harry looks down at his poorly hidden score sheet and curses under his breath. 

"I win." 

Safe to say you lost more letters that day.

_____

It's been a week, and Harry is patiently waiting on their bed as you get ready in your shared closet. Your shared closet is large and mainly holds all of Harry's clothing. You definitely have a nice share of clothes filled with gifts from friends as well as Harry's friends and your treasured thrifted pieces. You smile at yourself in the full-length mirror. 

Harry really can't begin to imagine what you have in store for him. 

The speaker is set out and ready, and all that is needed is for you to make your entrance.

You shake out your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the nerves. You look yourself over one last time before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. 

"Close your eyes." You call out. 

Harry rolls his eyes but does as he is told.

You walk over to the speaker and press play, letting the music fill the room, making your way to stand in front of Harry, who slowly opens his eyes.

He gasps; he feels himself start to get hard. His eyes can't seem to take everything in fast enough. You smirk, loving the reaction you got out of him. It gives you the extra boost of confidence you were needing. 

You stand there, hand on your hip in a sexy snowman outfit to go with the performance you are about to give.

The dress, if you can consider it with how short it is, has three black buttons in the center. The material hugs your chest nicely, giving Harry a nice view of your breasts that are close to popping out. The dress hugs your waist and begins to flow out right past your butt. You wore your favorite black heels that Harry sometimes begs you not to take off. You had on a plaid scarf and a black hat that matched it perfectly. 

You were the human version of the snowman except for a more rated r version.

Harry is sitting his mouth wide open at a loss for words. You blow him a kiss before letting the song lyrics flow out of you.

Frosty the snowman

Was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

You sway your hips side to side, singing, enjoying the ravenous stare he was giving you. You throw the hat, letting it fall at his feet, but not even that breaks the gaze he has on you, not wanting to miss a single movement of yours. 

Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say

He was made of snow

But the children know

How he came to life one day

You take a few steps forward, but never enough to allow him to touch you, and he's craving it; you know he is. His hands are gripping his thighs, his knuckles turning whiter by the seconds. 

He still hasn't said a word. You have him mesmerized. 

You sing the lyrics proudly, knowing you practiced all week for this moment. The moment Harry will never forget all the teasing he had been doing, always forgetting you win these battles. 

There must have been some magic in that

Old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around

"Baby," Harry breathes out, putting a hand out to touch you, but you take a step back before he can do so. 

You smirk, shaking your head no at him. You were having a lot more fun than you expected. 

You bend over, slipping off your heels, never breaking eye contact with Harry; he could very easily see up the dress that you had nothing underneath. His green eyes turned dark, and you swore your heart stopped, and you were sure he was about to attack. You were the prey, taunting him until he had enough, but surprisingly enough, he took a deep breath, and his composure was back well, just a bit of it.  

O Frosty the snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say he could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me

You stopped right in front of him. Harry's eyes trained on your red lips, hanging out to every word you were singing. You reached a hand back and began to unzip the dress. The grin on your face excited for the next reaction you were about to receive. 

Once you reached the bottom of your back, the dress fell to the floor. Harry let out a loud gasp. Your breasts on display, the small owl tattoo on your hip staring at him, he could see how wet you were, and all he wanted was his head between your thighs as you screamed his name. 

You were a dream. You missed Harry's touch. It was the reason you stepped close enough for him to finally pull you in. 

He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard them holler "Stop!"

Harry has no expression on his face as he sits you on his lap. He lets his head fall into your next, feeling how wet you are through his thin sweats. You move to stand up, but he grips your hips tightly, thrusting his hips against yours, searching for some kind of relief or a reaction from you because you still haven't stopped singing. 

"Baby, stop singing." His hand is cradling your cheek as his lust-filled eyes stare at you. 

You shake your head, not letting him distract you. The only piece of clothing left was the scarf, and Harry lets out a growl before ripping your scarf off your neck, throwing it off to the side.

Now you truly sit there naked in his lap, and you feel all the control you have over him. The song is coming to an end, meaning you've got to remove yourself from your favorite place to sit but knowing you'll be back there soon enough. 

Frosty the snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye, saying

"Don't you cry I'll be back again someday"

You sing the final lyrics in his ear before walking away to turn off the speaker, an extra sway to your hips, knowing Harry is very well still watching your every move. You stand a delighted look on your face as you wait for his praise. 

"Those were the longest two minutes of my life," Harry says; he puts a hand over his heart, feeling like it might just burst out. "I'm never going to be able to listen to this song in public or around anyone that isn't you." 

You smirk, thrilled to hear that.

"What did I do to end up with someone as beautiful and perfect as you in my life." He confesses. 

"Probably stopped a war in a past life." You throw out jokingly. 

Harry puckers his lips and makes grabby hands at you. "Kissy, please?"

And who are you to say no? He spreads his legs, letting you step in between. You slip your fingers into his hair, pulling back with enough force to have him let out a moan. You lean down and connect your lips in a hot kiss, one that has Harry gripping you tightly wherever he can get his hands on. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you happily give up the control to him. 

You pull back and rest a hand on his chest, preventing him from pulling you back for you. You wipe your thumb over his bottom lip that now has some of your red lipstick. "Seems like I won, sweets."

"I feel like the real winner here," Harry tells you cheekily, sneaking a kiss to both your boobs. You giggle, not at all surprised by his action. 

"Well," You fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Why don't you show me how winners celebrate?" 

"With pleasure." Harry groans standing up quickly and pushing you back against the best. He strips as fast as he can, not without a small stumble; you're sure to keep your giggle quiet, knowing very well how easily he gets embarrassed. 

He is quick to get on top and kisses you hard. His kisses are always soft, but it seems the teasing seemed to flip a switch, one that you will happily remember to look to turn on again on a later date. Tonight, you are ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 

Harry connects their lips, ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 

_____

Christmas cards were a lovely tradition. Harry insisted they started because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend to his friends and family. He also liked them handwritten because it added a nice personal touch. Who were you to argue about it?

This year you were the one excited to send them out. 

It read: Merry Christmas from our beautiful family to yours

You and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, four stockings hanging behind you. Harry made you sit in his lap, wanting to show off your matching two-piece buffalo plaid pajamas. You both had the biggest grins on your face, eyes shining bright. Next to you, laying on top of a box that was wrapped with blue sloth wrapping paper, was a one-year-old Australian shepherd that had spent the better of six months in the shelter because the small pup was quiet who didn't do well with people, but that changed instantly the minute he met you. You decided on the name Frosty for him. Not only did Harry get you the dog of your dreams but a small kitten as well. You brought home Snow, a six-month white Birman kitten who was the rut of his siblings, and how could you just not bring him home with you with his big blue eyes staring at you begging to add to your family because he had lots of love to give. At least that's what you told Harry what the look he was giving you meant. The two siblings laid next to each other, both surprisingly staring right at the camera, making it their best Christmas photo yet. 

A photo can honestly speak a thousand words because one glance at this photo tells you how much love there is in that home and their relationship. 

Christmas was all about spreading joy and love, and well, Harry accomplished just that for you.

_____

thank you so much for reading! i honestly hoped you loved it and would love to hear what you thought so send me a message if you like. 

i love you!

[eelistolvanen]

Bruises that you left behind - Travis Konecny Pt.2

A/N: Well, I finally got around to write part 2. Thank you to everyone that reblogged, commented or like part 1. I hope you like this part and let me know if you want more :) The story definitely isn’t over yet ;)

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Angst, some swearwords, no proofread (if i missed any let me know)

If you haven’t read Part 1 I strongly advise you to do so, otherwise this isn’t gonna make sense :) 

Italics indicate flashbacks

______________________________________________________

Once you finally calmed down, Nolan got up and made you a cup of hot chocolate. He knew it was your feel-good drink. He’d made you some before when you had bad days.

“Didn’t think you remembered. It’s been a while.” You nose was still running and you were sniffling quietly but the sobbing had stopped.

“You’re my best friend, of course I would remember.” He handed you the cup before sitting down next to you.

“But he’s your best friend too. And I didn’t want you to have to choose between us. After what happened I mean. So I let you go.” You knew it sounded bitter but you couldn’t help it, you needed to tell him.

“He’s not though. Not anymore.” His expression turned sad. “I will never be able to forgive him for what he’s done to you. Done to me. He’s the reason I lost my best friend. Both my best friends actually.”

“But you see him every day. You play together-“ The words died on your lips, you didn’t really know where you were going with this.

“He’s my teammate, yes. But I don’t consider him a friend anymore. And I don’t think many on the team do either. He’s changed, you know. He’s completely shut himself out. He doesn’t hang out with the team anymore. And to be honest I haven’t talked to him outside anything hockey related in months.”

Your heart felt heavy in your chest hearing about Travis.

“I don’t really care, Nolan.”

“No, I know. I just.. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m on your side. An for all it’s worth the team is too, y,know. And we all miss you, it’s just not the same without you.” He gave you a sad smile. You knew it was supposed to be comforting but it wasn’t working. Your eyes started to water again.

“Hey, hey, don’t feel guilty, okay? Everyone understood why you left. It’s just that you were a part of everyone’s life here too. And no one really understood why he did what he did. Ha, you should have seen G the day TK stepped foot into the locker room the first day back at camp. We thought he was going to rip him into shreds.”

You let out a shaky chuckle. “I miss the team too you know. They were like family to me. Believe me nothing was harder than leave my friends here behind.”

Silence fell between the two of you. You wanted to bring up that you had kept in contact with Ryanne and Maddie. Even if only sporadically. But you knew that Nolan would feel betrayed at that, with good reason.

You could feel Nolan fiddling with his hands, anxious to bring something up that was lying on the tip of his tongue.

“Just spit it out, Nolan.” You tried to brace yourself for what was about to come but you nothing could really prepare you for this conversation.

“Why did he.. I mean what was the reason, you know. He never told me the real reason…”

You felt your heart stop at his words, you had to take a couple of deep breaths before answering.

“I don’t know, Nolan. He just left me. No reason.”

“But I thought he left you a letter or a note or something?” His words were cautious, unsure if he was even allowed to ask.

“I… I never opened the letter, Nolan. I didn’t want to hear it back then.”

“So where is it now? I mean… maybe you need that closure.” His eyes were soft, searching for yours.

“I burned it. Right after the wedding. I didn’t care about his excuses. He left anyway, all it would do was inflict more pain. So I just burned the letter.”  

“Oh..” He fell silent, obviously not expecting this answer from you. The letter wouldn’t have changed anything. But now you couldn’t shake the thought out of your head.

“Why wasn’t I good enough, Nolan? What did I do wrong?” Suddenly everything felt too much. Tear running down your face again, the sobs were returning and you were having a hard time keeping your breathing steady.

“Why, Nolan? Why did he leave me? Why wasn’t I good enough for him?”

Nolan pulled you into his chest. No matter what he would say, this was going to hurt.

“I don’t know why he did what he did. I was as surprised as everyone else when he told me. I tried to change his mind, I swear. But he just didn’t listen.”

“What happened that day Nolan? Before you came to me?”

He pulled back to look you in the eye, agony evident on his face.

“I can’t do it, Pat.” Nolan turned around, Travis was wearing a pained expression on his face, shoulders slumped down, he looked absolutely defeated.

“What do you mean, Teeks? It’s gonna be fine, everyone gets nervous.” Nolan took a few steps towards Travis and put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Travis moved away from his touch and turned his head away from Nolan.

“I can’t marry her! I just I can’t do it, Pat. I’m too young, I’m not ready!”

Nolan looked at him like he had grown to heads. Anger started to rise up in him.

“Yes you can. Now is not the time to get cold feet. You’re just nervous Teeks.” His tone was starting to get louder and more frantic.

“I… I can’t. You have to go and tell her. The wedding’s o-.” Before Travis could fully finish the sentence Nolan had grabbed him by the collar of his dress shirt and pressed him against the wall. His jaw was locked shut and his eyes were furiously glaring at him. Nolan took a deep, slow breath before speaking through gritted teeth.

“No! You’re NOT gonna do this to her! Get your act together Travis. You’re going to walk down that aisle and –“ “I CAN’T DO IT, OK?” Travis’ sudden outburst of anger left Nolan frozen. Slowly his grip on Travis loosened. The anger and fury on his face disappeared and was replaced by something else. An emotion Travis rarely had ever seen on Nolan’s face. Complete and utter disappointment. He let go of the fabric in his hands.

“Why?! At least give me a reason why.” His eyes bore into Travis’ soul. He had to face away.

“I can’t do it. It’s not the right thing to do. I’m too young, we’re too young. It was just a stupid hasty decision, this wouldn’t work. Nolan, you know-“

Nolan dismissed him with a quick hand gesture. He shook his head.

“Save yourself the cheap excuses. I know you better than that, you can’t lie to me…”

“It’s not a lie, Nol-“  “Yes, it is and you know it! You realise that this is going to ruin everything, right? God, the real reason better be something good…”

Nolan slowly turned around and started walking out the door. But before he fully shut it close he turned to Travis one last time.

“I’m never going to forgive you for doing this. And you’ll spent the rest of your life regretting this decision, I’ll tell you that!” An with that he was out of the door, slowly making the hardest walk he’ll ever have to do. To tell you that your fiancé has left you on your wedding day.    

 Once Nolan finished you stayed silent. How were you supposed to respond to this? Travis’ reasoning didn’t make any sense to you. After a while Nolan spoke up again.

“I know there has to be an other reason. I just know… I just don’t know what it is.”

You sighed deeply, defeated. “It doesn’t matter Nolan. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“Maybe it would. You don’t know.” His voice was barely above a whisper, unsure if you wanted to hear this. You didn’t answer and he knew you well enough that it was time to drop the subject.

 --------

Hanging out with Nolan more also meant hanging out with his girlfriend. Not that you minded. You liked her. She was nice, had a good sense of humour and didn’t seemed to mind that you and Nolan were so close. And you had to give her credit for that.

She lived close to you and since she and Hannah were neighbours you started to hang out with her more and more. Even if Nolan wasn’t around. Sometimes with Hannah as well, recently also without her. Only the two of you. You weren’t exactly sure how much she knew about your past but she knew enough about it to not bring it up.

Tonight was no different. Work was finished for today, Hannah was in her evening yoga class and Nolan was on a roadtrip.  Not long after dropping your things at your apartment you made your way to Kelsey’s apartment.  

By the time you arrived Kelsey had already started to prepare for dinner. After joining her in the kitchen you started to figure out just how much food she was preparing.

“That’s a lot of food Kels. Are you trying to feed an army, or what?” You jokingly asked, only was your smile swept of your face once you looked at Kelsey. The guilty expression on her face left you frozen.

“Please don’t be mad!” She quickly replied and before you could even question what she meant she had already dropped the surprise on you.

“I invited the girls. It’s the first away game of the season so some of the girls decided to hang out. And I know were really good friends with them, so…”

You stayed silent. You should have know that you couldn’t avoid them forever, especially after starting to hang out with Nolan again. She meant well, you knew that, but you were also incredibly nervous meeting them again. Kelsey took your silence as a bad sign.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to-“

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine. I’m just surprised that is all. And I don’t really know what to expect, so..”

She gave you a soft smile. “They’re happy to see you, if that eases your nerves.”

 And they really were. The girls engulfed you in hugs, telling you over and over again how happy they were to see you. You weren’t really sure if you deserved their kindness, after all were you the one that left. But they didn’t seem to hold you responsible for it and seemed understanding enough. You were also more than thankful that they didn’t really bring any of it up. And as you were sitting on the couch next to Maddie later that evening, you couldn’t help but feel like a missing part of you had returned. After all they used to be like a second family to you.

 -------

A couple of nights later you found yourself sitting between Ryanne and Maddie at Wells Fargo Centre. You initially pitched against going to a game with the girls but after seemingly endless messages from the girls, especially Maddie, Ryanne and Alma, you finally gave in. In return they promised to make sure you wouldn’t have to see him and if you would feel uncomfortable they would bring you home.

But you were actually enjoying the game. You used to love going to games and you realised now that even seeing him from afar couldn’t stop you from having fun with the girls. This was enough distance to tell yourself that he was just some hockey player, that just so happened to play for the home team. And there was enough distraction around to forget that he even really existed. Between catching up with the girls and entertaining Gavin, you barely had enough time to even pay attention to the game.

You were just about to lower yourself back into your seat after the second intermission, as a high pitched scream caught your attention. A couple rows in front of you was a bleach blonde girl screaming Travis’ name as the team made their way back onto the benches. You immediately recognized the type of girl she was. You turned to Maddie.

“Almost forgot about those girls, god I certainly haven’t missed seeing them at games,-”

“Or at bars, or literally anywhere near the team? Yeah, they still exist.” Replied Maddie with a humorless laugh. “Not my kind of crowd, but some seem to like it.”

You internally debated whether to ask her what she meant by that, but ultimately choose against it. The 3rd was about to start anyway. The rest of the game passed in a hurry and before you knew it you were walking towards Kelsey’s car. She offered to drive since the two of you lived close by anyway. And Nolan was one of the slower guys out there, so he would just drive himself to Kelsey’s once he was finished.

“Out of all the placed I imagined I’d run into you, this certainly was the last on my list.” You froze. You thought you left quick enough to make sure not to run into any of the players. Apparently you were wrong. You debated if it was best to just ignore him but decided against it.

“Hey, Kev.” You turned to face him with a shy smile.

“Hi Tiny” he replied with a beaming smile. You wanted to be mad at him for using this nickname, but quickly folded and accepted his hug.

“I can’t believe you were able to avoid me for over 2 years.” Although he was joking you detected a sadness that was laced into his voice. You scoffed.

“I didn’t avoid you, Kev. I-“ You defended.

“No, don’t. You don’t have to apologize Y/N, I get it. We all get it. I know you didn’t actively avoid me. I just wish it hadn’t taken us over a year of you being back in Philly to finally cross paths again.”

He wasn’t even trying to hide sadness this time.

“I know. Me too.” You gave him an encouraging smile.

“Can you do me a favor? Unblock me? So we can finally catch up.” His voice was light and you knew then that he wasn’t mad at you for blocking him. Well, you blocked pretty much everyone.

“I have a new number now. But I’ll text you. Okay?” He laughed silently. “Perfect.” And just as you were turning back towards the car he quietly muttered.

“I knew you blocked me and it wasn’t a broken phone like Ryanne told me.”  You looked over your shoulder back at him, a glint in his eyes.

“I had to, Kev.” You replied more to yourself than him.

“I know.” And with that you made your way towards Kelsey who was already waiting in her car for you.

----------

You were crying of laughter, embarrassingly loud in the middle of your favourite café as Kevin told you one of his many ridiculous offseason stories.

“No, Y/N, I swear this is how it happened.” He deep voice filled with laughter, his hands animatedly held up in the air.  

Once you recovered from your fit you looked up at him again, only to start giggling again as soon as you looked at his facial expression.

“I swear, I’m not kidding.” His voice was sincere, which made the story even more ridiculous.

“I believe you Kev. Ahh, it’s just so crazy.” You wiped the tears from your eyes as you continued “You always know how to make me laugh.”

He nodded and his smile turned wicked. “Are you going to admit now that you missed me? I can handle that you avoided me. But saying that you didn’t miss me hurt. It wounded me.”

You dramatically rolled your eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, I’m sure you nearly died from the pain.”

“I did! Like a dagger into my heart, Y/N.” But he wasn’t able to keep a straight face for long. You expression turned serious again.

“I did miss you Kev. So much. I misses all of you. You, Nolan, the girls, the team. You used to be my second family. I hate that I gave it all up because of him. I just thought everyone would be on his side, after all I only met all of you because of him. I know now that this wasn’t the case. That you’re on his side I mean.”

Kevin stayed silent for a bit, contemplating what he was about to say.

“We might have only met you through him, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t love you just as much. Or even more. You were probably the reason we loved him so much. You have always been the best part of him.” You felt something tug at your heart. It always felt so heavy talking about him, as if talking about some dead person. In a way that was what it felt like. Him leaving felt as final as a loved one dying. There was a part of you that you lost that day, a part that you wouldn’t get back.    

“Do you think if I’d done things differently that..-“ A lump started to form in your throat again. You didn’t want to go down this road, still somehow it always dragged you back into it as soon as he came up.

“Don’t Y/N. Don’t do this to yourself. It was him, not you. There was nothing you could have done.”

You bravely nodded. You were fighting the tears that were threatening to spill.

“Don’t blame yourself, ok? You have to move forward. What’s in the past is in the past. No one can change it now.” He took your hands into his and gave you an encouraging smile.

“Remember what you always told me? Whenever you used to do something that surprised me? That you’re a-“

“A total badass. I’m a total badass and can do anything.” You replied with a smile on your face. “Ah, I almost forgot about that.” You chuckled.

“Don’t forget it! You are too strong to let yourself break over some dumb hockey player.”

The two of you dropped the Travis subject and moved onto better things. You told him about work, your new friends, about home and he told you about Boston, his parents and everything else that he felt was somehow of importance. After a while you felt Kevin starting to get quiet and thoughtful. An indicator that something was on his mind.

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed slightly on edge asking you this. You laughed.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to speak up. What’s on your mind Kev?”

He looked at you for a second, taxing your expression.

“The team Halloween party is next week. And everyone has someone who does a costume with them, so…”

“No, Kev! I’m not coming to the Flyers Halloween party. Absolutely not.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You already let enough people back into your life. Turning up at a teams party was a whole new level. One that you didn’t intend to take.

“Please, Y/N! I can’t go alone. We go as friends, with some amazing costumes. You love Halloween, you can’t say no.” You rolled your eyes as Kevin started pouting at you. Him pouting like a puppy was the last thing you needed, you were basically screwed.

“I’m not part of the team, Kev. And it’s a team’s party.” You tried but deep down you new that Kevin had the better arguments. He was right, you loved Halloween.

“You used to be. And you still are. Everyone wants you to come. I need you to come. I will even let you choose the costumes. And I will be whatever or whoever you want. Please, Y/N.”

He basically had you trapped now. You couldn’t say no to that offer. Unless…

“He’s part of the team. He’s gonna be there and the last thing I want is having to see him.” This was your last resort. Really, it was the only good reason. Kevin let out a sigh of relief.

“He won’t be there, Y/N. I promise. He hasn’t been at a teams party in years. We don’t even bother to invite him anymore. He won’t be there, I promise.”

Game over, Kevin had won. You gave in. Nolan had already mentioned that Travis wasn’t part of any team’s event anymore unless it was officially required.

“Fine. But I get to choose our costumes.” You barely finished the sentence before Kevin swept you up into his arms.

“Whatever you want, princess.”  

--------

This was how you ended up at Claude and Ryanne’s house on Halloween. Kevin surprisingly kept his promise. Dressing up in the most ridiculous outfit. You wore matching 80s aerobics outfits. Only was Kev’s leotard probably two sizes to small and in combination with the pink leggings, the neon green legwarmers, the white sneakers and the yellow sweatbands the wildest thing you’d seen in your life. Your colour scheme was slightly less flamboyant. Still you felt like you’d just escaped out of a 80s sports magazine.

You weren’t the only one who was absolutely baffled by Kevin’s willingness to rock such an outfit. The entire team was hollering and whistling when you arrived and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t ask the two of you to pose in a photo with them during the evening. You couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun. It must have been years. But from the moment you stepped into the house the team treated you as if you never left. They joked with you, danced with you, drank with you, just like old times. And you were beyond glad that not a single soul was bringing up anything Travis related.

Eventually the evening was drawing towards its close. Midnight not too far away, when Ivan got up to open the door to someone ringing. You weren’t even paying enough attention to realise until Kevin was whispering about somebody probably mistaking the house for an other. You expected Ivan to return quickly but it seemed to drag on and once he finally returned he wasn’t alone.

He looked at you before anyone else and mouthing a quick “I’m sorry” to you before revealing who had knocked on the door.

The moment you saw him you felt sick to your stomach, Kev quickly threw an arm around your shoulder and out of the corner of your eye you could see Claude standing up. Nolan followed shortly after.

“We were about to call it a night, TK. You should go home. And you should really ask first before showing up at a party. Especially if you bring a fan.”

It was only then that you realised that he wasn’t alone. A barely dressed, tall blonde was standing behind him. A felt a stab in your heart. He’d brought someone.

“She’s not a fan, she’s my girl.” His words were slurred, the alcohol he consumed evident in his voice.

You felt like you were about to throw up, so you quickly rose to your feet. Kevin was only seconds behind, already addressing the room. As you started to move towards the door you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen the girl before.

“Alright guys, we’re about to head out. It’s getting late.” He took your hand into his, moving across the room. The rest of the team started to move too. The tension in the room was unmistakable. You gripped Kevin’s hand thighter. You nearly made it past Travis without him making a comment. Nearly.

“Well, Hayesy brought a fan. No way that’s his girl. So why can’t I bring my-?”

Nolan cut him off before he could finish, his voice colder than ice.

“Shut up Teeks, you weren’t even invited.”

Your head had started spinning the moment the word fan left Travis’ lips. You knew you looked a bit different in your Halloween costume but this? Did he seriously not recognize you?  

Kevin was gently tugging at your hand, trying to maneuver you out of the house and out of this sticky situation. You knew that he was doing the right thing and was trying to protect you. But instead of allowing him to lead you out of the door, you ripped your hand from his grip. Anger had started to bubble up inside and as soon as you looked at Travis again it boiled over. To say you were angry was an understatement, you were absolutely vicious.

“ You piece of shit! You’re a fucking coward Travis.” You voice was laced with venom, nearly sitting these words into his face. Kevin put his arms around you again, this time without letting you go and pulling you towards the door.

“I can’t believe you switched me out for some puckbunny. You-“ But Kevin had already dragged you out of the door before you could finish your sentence. And before you knew it Kevin had led you to his car.

“Y/N, I swear he wasn’t supposed to show up.“ You knew he meant it, his voice laced with sincerity.

“Who is she? The girl. I know her from somewhere. Who is she?” Kevin looked at you for a moment. When he didn’t reply, your voice rose. “Kev!”  

“I don’t know, okay? Just… just some girl.” But his hesitation made you cautious. “But you’ve seen her before?”

It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement. He looked away when he replied.

“Only a few times.”

But his innuendo was strong enough to know exactly what he meant with that.

And then it dawned on you. She was the girl you saw at the game a few nights back. She was his new girl.

Part 3

[abluescarfonwaston]

Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.

Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.

Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.

Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.

The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.

There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.

These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.

They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.

And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.

The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.

This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.

Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.

It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.

I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.

I know that very well.

But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.

The wolf slips in the door behind him.

Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"

The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.

"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"

And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.

He has always been a good shot.

It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.

He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.

He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.

I love you doppler. I could love you too.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."

There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.

The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.

In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.

"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."

"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.

"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."

"No the other part."

"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."

"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"

He shrugged. "His dog went after him."

His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.

The wolf went after Jaskier.

Jaskier is alone.

With the wolf.

In a snow storm.

Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.

The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.

He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.

How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?

He pulled his doublet tighter around him.

Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.

Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.

Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.

The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.

There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.

"You found him?"

Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.

"... Thank you."

There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.

"I think... That druid overpaid."

He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.

Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.

Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.

The dam breaks.

"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.

"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.

"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"

"Jask-"

"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"

"Jaskier!"

His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.

"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."

He scowled harder at Geralt.

"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"

"... Vaguely."

A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.

You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?

What food do you have on you?

Uh.

Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.

No that's not- perhaps the law of su-

No. No. Lie. That will be enough.

It's not!

"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."

He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."

He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"

Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."

"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"

"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."

"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."

"Mhmm."

"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."

"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."

"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"

Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.

Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.

"She was repaying the favor."

"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."

Neither Geralt met his eye.

"Geralt...?"

"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."

Right.

"But then why-"

A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.

I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.

They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.

The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.

I love you Jaskier.

Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.

"Oh."

He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.

"Tell me again."

Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.

"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."

"Tell you...?"

"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."

His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.

It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.

"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.

And this time. This time he believed him.

"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."

Geralt leaned down and did.

He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.

I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.

Mine did.

[coachtedwelton]

i got you

summary - 2x10 - Rebecca hasn’t cried over her father yet, he is determined to be there when she does.

tw / revolves around the death of a parent.

He realises she hasn’t let herself cry over her loss while they’re at her fathers funeral, her hand on her mother’s back as she cries silently for the man she spent half of her life with. He watches her as she holds her head higher, swallowing down her grief as she inhales and he wishes he could do something for her, knows how much loosing a father hurts, but he can not even imagine how she must be feeling, her tainted relationship with her father something he’s aware of, and he worries about her. About what could happen if she continues to hold it all in. She turns, catching his eye and he smiles sadly with a small nod and she smiles back, but the pain behind her eyes is all he can see, and he wants to wrap her in his arms, let her know he’s there for her… he watches her for the entire service with concern, because if she doesn’t allow herself to feel it… she’ll never heal. He knows that all too well. 

She spends the first half of the wake shaking hands and accepting condolences from people she hasn’t seen in years, listens to people’s stories of her father with a fake smile, biting her tongue as they talk about how loving he was, how caring and sweet because that is not the man she remembers. It’s not that he was cold or cruel, but he was not warm, never one to offer a hug when needed, never home in time for dinner, he used his money to keep her mother in line, buying her gifts, buying her love, and as she got older, he did the same to her. As if he thought that he could buy their love when all he had to do was just be there.

She sneaks out slowly, around the corner and up the stairs before anyone could register her absence and as she closes the door to her childhood bedroom, she leans against it with a sigh, closing her eyes as she breathes deeply, letting the silence wash over her. The noise from downstairs gradually gets louder as she sits on the bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of her, half listening to the chaos erupting in her childhood home, half zoned out, memories of her father flashing in her mind and she wonders for a moment, how different things could have been for her and her father if she’d had reached out, if he had reached out, but it’s a pointless game, because neither ever did, and now he’s gone. Forever.

The three taps on her door are what bring her back, snapping herself from the wallowing pit she was falling into, and she clears her throat before whispering a small come in, because she knows that's knock. Knows who’s on the other side, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been waiting for him.

“Hey boss,” he says softly as he enters the room, quietly closing the door behind him and he stands there, waiting for her to give permission to join her, because he’s sweet, and he’s nice, and he cares about her, about her boundaries and he refuses to push them, people have been pushing them for too long.

“Hi Ted.” she smiles sadly, “thank you for coming today. I know it can’t be easy after—” she stops, his soft nod the only answer she needs.

“Anything for you, boss.” he smiles and she chuckles, dropping her head as she holds back a smile, her heart fluttering in her chest because he means that and no one ever has before. “I thought you might be hungry…” he smirks, holding out of plate of buffet sandwiches and wraps. “Thought we’d share a plate. Enjoy the silence together while it lasts.” he tells her and she smiles, tapping the space next to her as an indication to join her and he nods, taking a seat next to her and they both ignore the jolt of… something they feel as the side of their legs press together. He hands her a sandwich and she smiles, taking it from him, looking away as she rips it apart.

“You doin’ okay?” he asks gently, watching her in the corner of his eye as he takes a bite of the wrap he picked up.

“As well I can be.” she says, a sad smile on her lips, tilting her head to look at him. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

“Just because the day passes, doesn’t mean it’s over, Rebecca. Grief is a process. A long one.” he says softly and she looks away.

“Maybe so,” she agrees, “but me and my father weren’t close, I haven’t… hadn't spoken to him in years…”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be sad you lost him.” he tells her, “Doesn’t mean you don’t have the right to grieve.”

“Sort of feels that way.” she whispers, staring down at the uneaten sandwich in her hand and he drops the plate to the floor quietly, taking the sandwich from and dropping it to the plate before taking her hands, letting his eyes burn into hers for the first time in weeks and he pushes, he pushes because she needs him to, because if she doesn’t forgive herself, it will have a hold on her forever. He knows.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he whispers, “it’s okay to cry, scream… anything. Because you lost your dad. It doesn’t matter how you felt about him or if he was good enough… it doesn’t matter that you haven’t spoken or seen him in years… nothing matter expect you and how you feel and it’s okay to cry. You loved your dad, and now I may never have met the man, but I know, as a dad myself, that he loved you even if he never really showed it.” he continues softly, squeezing her hands gently as her eyes glass over, watches her swallow the lump in her throat as she shakes her head, as though she believes she doesn’t have the right to grieve.

“It’s just me here,” he says gently, and she looks at him again, “just me and you, and if you want to cry, shout… even just talk, I’ve got you, Rebecca. And no one has to know.”

“I should have reached out,” she says, her voice breaking, “should have tried harder to re connect with him.”

“It works both ways. He could have reached out as well, don’t beat yourself up about that.”

“He died thinking I hated him.” she whispers brokenly, a tear rolling down her cheek. Ted lifts a hand from hers and wipes it, allowing his hand to cup her cheek as she looks at him and he smiles sadly.

“He never thought you hated him, and he never hated you. It’s impossible.” he tells her, “your dad loved you, Rebecca. And he’d want you to forgive yourself.”

“I can’t.” she whispers sadly, shaking her head and his heart breaks.

“You can.” he nods, “because there’s nothing to forgive.” he tells her, “a fathers love is unconditional, and you were loved by him, unconditionally… I know that for sure.” he tells her, and he counts to three in his mind, waits to see if he got through to her, if she will allow herself the right to be sad, and as he gets to three he just wants to hold her, to help her, and then a sob leaves her chest and the dam breaks.

He pulls her into him, holding her tightly as she cries, her head resting safely in his neck as he runs a hand down her back, holding down his own tears as he tries to soothe her.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, “I got you.” he tells her, kissing the side of her head as he holds her, wraps her in his arms as she grieves. “I got you.”

They stay like that for awhile, her sobs turning to soft cries, her tears wetting his neck as he continues to whisper soft, gentle words to her, stories of no meaning just so she has something to tether to, his voice known to calm people even in their worst states, his fingers drawing gentle patterns on her back. She tilts her head to the side, resting it peacefully on his chest and laces a hand in his, watching as he traces a pattern across her fingers.

“Thank you.” she whispers after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“For what?”

“Everything.” she says, and he chuckles, kisses the top of her head and smiles.

“Coupon for life.” he reminds her and the small laugh she lets out his enough for him to know she’s going to be okay. That they’re going to be okay.

(when he kisses her in the rain in the middle of the pitch at midnight when they’re finally alone after they win the whole fucking thing, she smiles into it, a small what took you so long whispered against his lips, he thinks back to all the small moments that got them here, and realises that moment in her childhood bedroom was the moment and now this is theirs.)

fin

[anntoldst0ries]

shinrin-yoku (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.7k, PG Summary: When life's difficulties hit, Noelle navigates her way through them by turning to the nature. Category: Hurt & Comfort Warnings: mentions of trauma

A/N: May is a Mental Health Awareness month and here in the UK the theme is nature. My MC, just like me, runs to the woods when things get tough. It helps her clear her head and reconnect with inner strength.

I struggle with mental health myself and it’s important for me to speak up and address the subject. There is nothing worse than shaming or discrediting someone’s difficult feelings. It’s fine not to be fine.

If you struggle alone, please don’t. My inbox will welcome you with open arms. Two heads are better than one, even if we just complain, at least we can complain together 💜

For @choicesmaychallenge2021 Day 13 - Mental Health

SHINRIN-YOKU - A Japanese term for ‘forest bathing’ or the sense of well-being you experience while in nature.

~~

It all starts with a seed. This tiny element which, without aid, is sentenced to certain death. But give it the right soil. Give it water, sun. And it can grow. Into something big. Powerful. Scary.

~~

She is five years old.

They live in a townhouse, a classy Victorian era building. Undistinguished, one of many merging into the background of a typical London street. The colors are also very standard,  dirty white married to ivory beige, bar for the deep green door - their rebel child.

For the random passerby, it’s nothing special. But for her, the walls of a storey house encapsulate the whole world.

The garden behind the house is neat and clean, visibly well taken care of. She doesn’t remember exact details anymore, but she remembers begging her parents to go camping in the garden with her brother. The ticklish feeling of long and slim blades of grass on her tiny feet. Looking at the stars with pure awe and delight, that only the unspoiled mind of a child is capable of.

The plot of land that the house has been built on borders a beautiful forest. A wooden fence separates the two.

To her, it’s a passage to a magical world.

A world without any particular order, living its own life, unconstricted by rules. Not in the slightest does it resemble the garden on her side of the fence, where things grow according to the rules laid out by the adults.

There is a feeling inside her that she’s too young to name, to throw it in lingual context. It’s not until years later that she realized what it had been. Freedom. To grow however you please. To be what you want to be.

Robust, effuse trees tower over her, making her feel so small. As if she hasn’t already been feeling small enough, living in a world full of giants.

But they mean something else too. They bring a secret and a promise. Promise of a bigger world out there, far from the confines of the place she calls home.

The forest draws her, singing a melody that only her heart can understand. One day, she will be a part of it.

~~

She lives the teenage dream life.

That’s what everyone says.

She doesn’t have any real problems. She’s lucky not having to worry about money. She’s got friends. Her family is great. She just needs to stop whining. Her life is perfect.

Their words, not hers.

None of them know what happens behind closed doors.

The childhood forest is a cloudy memory. Her home is now thousands of miles away, in a city with a giant red bridge, which for some bizarre reason has ‘golden’ in its name.

But the call from nature doesn’t care about distance. It can find you about anywhere. It’s different and yet the same.

Because nature beats in one rhythm and speaks in the same language, everywhere.

The morning is chilly and humid. She’s wearing a wooly coat, carelessly threw on a pair of PJs hiding underneath.

Her steps are brisk, breathing short and heartbeat elevated. Something’s bothering her blanched face.

The voice, again.

When it first appeared, she thought it had her best interest at heart. Used to give her advice and like a good friend, ream her out when she did something bad.

Over time, things took a turn for the worse.

Snarky comments. Casually mentioned wrongdoings. Feedback on what she could have done better, differently.

Noelle hoped the voice would go away on its own.

It hasn’t.

Not only did the voice not go away, but it was actually growing stronger with each passing day. Became more vocal. Judgmental. Openly hostile.

It fed on her fears.

It’s your fault - it told her - that your parents are getting divorced.

You are not good enough.

Even a lie, repeated enough times, will finally become the truth. And so it did for her, to the point where she couldn’t distinguish her own voice from the voice of the tormentor. Sounds faded into one.

Whoever said words can cut like a knife was right. But those who knew thoughts could leave scars that are much deeper, were truly wise.

The young, beautiful girl who never hurt a soul, became a hostage. A prisoner locked in the jail of her own head.

A giant tear rolled down her face. Made of all the words her heart couldn’t say.

She hugged the tree tightly and inhaled the woodsy aroma, the scent filling her lungs fully.

It’s sensuous.

Just like that, she is small again.

~

She’s got all that she ever wanted.

Degree from one of the best medical schools. Graduating with honors and glowing recommendations from even the strictest professors, who kept assuring her that her future in medicine is so bright it’s actually blinding. Then, a dreamy residency in one of the most prestigious hospitals in the country.

Pretty impressive, right? Even a fool could see that. But the only fool whose opinion she cared about, couldn’t. All these things were clearly not good enough for Ethan Ramsey to stay.

She wasn’t good enough for him to stay.

Not longer than a year ago he was just a concept, an ideal without a face, body and voice. To her, he was a celebrity, a hero, someone whom mortals don’t have access to.

It was preposterous to consider for even a second Dr Ramsey could actually see something in an intern.

Standing among the moss-covered trees, every fiber of her being was filled with the thought of him.

Did the Amazonian forest remind him of her, just like every forest around reminded her of him?

Just when she won the battle for her career, she lost another. Because life had to be a zero-sum game.

As painful as that would have been, she wished she had something to hold onto. A scene she could replay in her mind. An image of him walking away. Or saying goodbye.

But he left without a word.

That was the pattern. That was history repeating itself.

She took her shoes off and stepped on the soil frosted with morning dew. It’s cold and wet. It’s refreshing. She is grounding. Reconnecting with Earth.

Tunes in with the rivers of grass, towers of trees, fences of bushes.

If the trees could speak, they’d tell stories not many people would believe in.

Tales of heartbreaks. Parables of spirits.

They are all nature’s poems.

Hauntingly beautiful. Riveting. Written without a single word.

Because nature speaks its very own language that only the soul, not the mind, can understand.

Pain is ripping her apart. But it reminds her that she’s alive. And this, in itself, is a miracle.

~~

She doesn’t know who she is anymore.

Some people call her a survivor. But it doesn’t feel like the right word. So many things in her died. So much was lost.

The attack took a lot from her. Danny. Bobby. Sense of security. Identity. Direction.

Right and wrong, good and bad, righteous and vicious. These are all just words. Someone needs to come and teach her the meaning of them anew. Draw lines, mark out frontiers. Save her from herself.

The ground is soaked. Torrential rain turned the soil into soft mud, warm and easily slipping through her fingers. She falls on her knees, praying for the ground to consume her.

Fill every part of her. Silence the internal cacophony. To sink into oblivion.

Not many people knew about the panic attacks and recurring nightmares. They’re always the same.

She’s standing in the middle of a swamp. Danny and Bobby are drowning, their arms reaching out for her. She knows she can only save one of them. She runs out of time trying to figure out how to save both. As a result, they both die. Time stands still and yet everything is spinning, moving, racing. The reality is a riot of overbright colours.

Suddenly, a ring breaks the silence. A polyphonic intruder. She looks at the screen through hooded eyes and notices the caller’s name. It’s him. He’s petrified. Worried to death. Asks her to stay where she is.

Some time later, maybe 10 minutes, maybe an hour - who knows? - he emerges from the gathering of stocky oaks.

The moment he catches the sight of her, he starts running. She notices a lab coat underneath the jacket. He’s soaking wet.

Even though he is so close, he doesn’t slow down. Crashing into her, he scoops her in his arms. Catches her in the tightest of embraces.

Asks her if she’s fine. No. Not that question again. She’s tired of people fussing over her and gets angry.

Had it not been for the attack, would he even be here? The voice asks mockingly. It doesn’t matter to her. He’s there now.

Deep baritone is gentle and full of concern. It’s not like that. It’s not his intention to fuss. He’s simply worried. Because she is the most important thing to him in the whole world. Yes, he wasted so much time. That’s why he refuses to lose even one more second.

A dam breaks within her. Eliciting a quiet sob. She clutches his shirt, holds onto him for dear life. Moments later, she’s screaming at the top of her lungs. Singing her poignant birdsong.

How is she supposed to cope? Will things ever go back to normal? What is normal anyway?

In the confines of the infamous patient room she never felt more scared in her life. But here, out in the open, she feels so safe. As if she’s had a silent agreement with nature, which vouched to protect her at all costs.

And this time, nature had an ally. Because Ethan will protect her, even if it’s the last thing he does. Holding onto each other, they stand in the nothingness.

It keeps them grounded. Connected to their roots. Turning over new leaves. Bending before they break. Growing.

They get lost. Mother Nature has a reward for those who do. They have a chance to find themselves. Over and over again.

~~~

If you made it this far - thank you & you're awesome 🥰

Tag list: @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @terrm9@starrystarrytrouble @the-pale-goddess @jamespotterthefirst @lisha1valecha @writer-ish @maurine07 @drakewalkerfantasy@iemcpbchoices @liaromancewriter @lem-20 @lucy-268 @oldminniemcg @queencarb @qrkowna @mercury84choices @lsvdw-blog @utterlyinevitable @stygianflood @udishaman @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @alina-yol-ramsey @stateofgracious @xxsugarplumfluffsxx @binny1985 @tsrookie @fayeswiftie @archxxronrookie @tinkertailorsoldierspy @schnitzelbutterfingers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @theinvisibledreamergirl @custaroonie @irisofpurple @chasingrobbie @ethandaddyramseyx @quixoticdreamer16 @coffeeheartaddict @takemyopenheart @aworldoffandoms @potionsprefect @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[awanderingdeal]

Lazy summer mornings with the cubs.

Is this an update for one of the many works in progress that I have? Afraid not! This is a story that I wrote live on the discord (after some inspiration from @ais-for-alex), with a bit of editing. The flow still isn’t 100% but I’m pretty happy with it. 

It’s smutty mess of emotion, featuring some of the corniest lines I have ever written. I would apologise but these boys make me feel things. RATING: EXPLICIT. 

All credit for the wonderful Leo, Logan and Finn goes to @lumosinlove. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they weren’t travelling, summer break was filled with lazy mornings that Leo treasured. Sometimes, like today, Finn slipped out at first light to play basketball with Alex, Kasey and Natalie. It left Leo and Logan to wake slowly. Inevitably, Leo would be the first, piling pillows behind him so that he could make some headway in the required reading for his online class. Eventually Logan would crack his eyes open, stretching and popping his limbs. Once he had fought through the sleepy haze, Logan would grab his laptop, finding a documentary to meet whatever his latest obsession was. Apparently, ‘The mystery of the rebel pharaoh’ was not as riveting as it sounded because Leo could feel Logan getting restless beside him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Leo saw Logan rip off his headphones and he heard the slap of a laptop closing. What he doesn't expect is Logan's fingers on the band of his underwear. Leo protests, just wanting to get to the end of his chapter. Logan’s hands still but his eyes are bright and wanting. Leo knows that look. 

"Can I?" Logan asks, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The words are few but Leo understands the question is related to the article that Logan sent him yesterday. The article he had opened whilst in a meeting with Cameron, the specialist keeper coach, by the way. He'd been expecting something mundane about picking up groceries or what setting on the washing machine to use, not 'Cockwarming 101'. He can still feel the heat of the blush that had spread over his face and Cameron’s concerned questions.  

Leo nods his consent and Logan takes his penis into his mouth. He is fairly certain that he should have just dropped the reading, because how was he supposed to concentrate with his cock in the warmth of Logan's mouth. However, surprisingly quickly, it becomes an intimate, comforting sensation and he is able to make progress. Occasionally, Logan would shift or hum his contentment and it would send a shiver through Leo. He breathes through it and waits for himself to calm down, feeling Logan grin around him. Leo sees Logan's hand move to his own cock, stroking it lazily. His fingers barely grazing over the darkened skin, matching the lazy sucks he'd started to subject Leo to and Leo's resolve breaks. He puts his tablet down, his fingers tangling in Logan's hair, "Alright, baby. Go ahead."

Logan's eyes glance up at Leo, and somehow he looks the picture of innocence despite the fact that he still has Leo between his lips. Logan suckles Leo a few times before pulling off with a pop. "Finished reading, baby?" he asks, giving Leo a smug look that Leo really really wants to hate but just can't. 

"You know very well that I wasn't," Leo scoffed. "But somebody is needy."

Logan laughed, "I don't know who you are talking about."

Leo raised an eyebrow, "a minute ago you seemed interested in keeping that smart mouth occupied by something else." 

Logan pressed his lips to Leo's thighs, mouthing a mark into the skin. His fingers played aimlessly with Leo's balls, "what if I’ve changed my mind?" 

Logan reached out to grab Leo's hand. "Non," he sang, pulling the long limb towards him. It fell comically onto Logan's curls, but Leo knew what he was going for and wrapped his long fingers into the hair with a snort. 

Leo groaned, his head flopping back against the headboard. He quickly composed himself. Logan could be a shit, but Leo was more than able to match the teasing. "I'll just finish studying then, shall I?" he retorted, contorting his features into a smirk.

"Better distract me then, sweetheart," Leo grinned, lifting Logan's head gently and leaning down to press his lips against Logan's. Logan, having had enough of the games, licked his lips and sunk his mouth down on Leo's cock with a practised ease. His movements matched the lazy morning, slow and unhurried, savouring the moment. Logan's fingers clenched into Leo's hips, there so often that the skin seemed to have moulded itself to make a home for them.

A picture of restraint, Logan kept the pace slow. Each time Leo thought he couldn’t take it anymore, Logan’s tongue would lap at the head, taking the edge off. It was a beautiful kind of torture; Leo's length cocooned in the heat of Logan's mouth. He wanted nothing more than to thrust into it, to chase the pleasure humming just there. But Leo let himself fall into the heady feeling, let himself be guided in the way that Logan wanted.

Lost in the sensations, the first Leo knew of Finn's return home was the low whistle from the doorway. Leo's eyes snapped over to meet Finn's. Logan only sucked harder, pressing his fingers to the thin skin at the base of Leo's balls. A spot that  Logan knew would make him keen - nothing if not a performer. 

"Can I request that I come home to this all the time?" Finn breathed, pushing himself off the frame of the door. He crossed the room, the tight athletic shorts he was wearing left little to the imagination. 

Somehow, Leo managed to find his voice. "Hey sweetheart. Good game?" he asked. Twelve months ago, when Leo was just starting to let himself imagine what this could be, he never could have conjured this image. Sometimes he still felt like he was dreaming. The reality was so much better. 

Finn hummed a reply, leaning down to catch Leo's lips in a slightly salty kiss. "Yeah. Nat and I won, of course," Finn grinned, his fingers lingering on Leo's cheek.

"Morning, Lo." Finn added casually, his eyes glancing down the bed. Logan's mouth morphed into a smile around Leo. His eyes were questioning and Finn didn't need words to know what they were asking. "Sorry babe, I'm tired. Gonna jump in the shower and grab some food. You enjoy yourself though," Finn answered. Twelve months ago, Finn would never have turned down an opportunity like this. Leo knew that Finn too had been afraid that one day he was going to wake up and it'd all be over. But Finn was more secure these days. He could say no because there would be a lifetime of opportunities to say yes. 

"Can I steal that mouth for a second?" Finn chuckled. Logan drew off Leo with a purposeful slurp, his lips painted with the signs of Leo's pleasure. Finn didn't hesitate before pressing their lips together, and Leo could have sworn his heart stopped for a beat when he saw Finn's tongue brush the mess away. "You always taste good, baby," Finn winked at Leo and it should have been cheesy, but Finn managed to make it effortlessly cool.

You think he's going to jerk off in there?" Logan laughed, cocking his head towards the bathroom door.

Leo rolled his eyes gently, his muscles jerking as Logan took him back into his mouth. "It's Finn so who knows? Fifty percent chance he's jerking off. Fifty percent chance he's practising his fake out and he's going to end up in the ER," Leo snickered. 

Logan murmured his agreement, a breathy laugh sending a shiver up Leo's spine. He gave Leo a long lick before glancing up at him and pulling away again. Leo's eyes widened. He was officially going to combust. He was going to be the first person with, 'died of horniness', on their death certificate. 

Logan huffed out another laugh, "Okay, Okay. Let's get you sorted. As much as I love having you in my mouth, I know half of that big brain of yours is already planning what to feed Finn." 

Leo couldn't argue with that, "You know me too well, Logan Tremblay."

 "Maybe you're just too predictable, Leo Knut," Logan countered.

Logan hollowed his mouth and filled it with Leo again. There was no moderation this time. Leo could feel him everywhere. His hands squeezing his balls, gently at first, and then harder. Logan's lips pressed tight around him, dragging down his cock and then back up again. His tongue wrapping around the head, dipping in to taste. Leo is vocal, gasping out encouragement liberally. Logan deserves to know how good he makes him feel. If he is a little louder so that Finn can hear from the bathroom, then that was his prerogative. Logan pushes Leo's legs up, his hands grasping onto his thighs. Leo knows what is coming and tries to prepare himself; he never can. Logan's mouth is at the head of his cock again, sucking and it doesn't stop. His legs push up but Logan's hands are strong against the pressure. Leo's eyes meet Logan's and that is enough for him to be emptying into his mouth. Logan doesn't falter, working him through it. 

It's a few seconds before Leo finishes soaring, although it feels a lot longer. A few seconds before he notices that Logan was now resting on Leo, lips barely brushing his penis and  hips rutting into the sheets. "Need a hand, Lo?” Leo asked, his voice still shaky.

Logan's eyes squeezed closed, his body stilling and Leo had his answer. He brushed his hands through Logan's hair until his green orbs were visible again. Logan blushed in the way he always did when he came untouched, no matter how many times he and Finn told him how much they loved it. 

"Come here, sweetheart," Leo cooed, pulling Logan up his body. "How many times?" 

Logan smacked his hand on Leo's chest, "Just twice."

"Just twice," Leo chuckled. "I'll try harder next time." He brushed his thumb over Logan's lips, still a bit tacky. "Tell me when?" 

It was part of their normal routine now. Sometimes a way to debrief. An easier way for Logan to let them know what he liked. A relationship saver really, because if Leo had heard, "all of it," in response to "what was your favorite part?" again, then he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions. Sometimes a way to ramp things back up. The start of a 3rd, 4th or even once, a 5th time.

Logan nipped at the thumb playfully, "When Finn kissed me. When he took you from my lips. And then he just...licked." His words trailed off, barely audible at the end as if he was reliving the moment. Leo couldn't blame him. It had been hot.

"Yeah, I think that might be ingrained in my memory forever," Leo agreed, taking his thumb back and replacing it with a quick kiss. The bathroom door opened, releasing a haze of steam and a very relaxed looking Finn. 

"He lives!" Logan teased, his laugh full and happy. 

"Had a bath in the end," Finn shrugged, letting the towel wrapped around his waist fall and Leo was sure that he left it a beat longer than normal to pull on a fresh pair of briefs. "I got distracted." Finn continued.

 Leo pulled Logan's damp clothes from him, the shorter boy lifting up to aid their removal. "I'm just going to grab a cloth," Leo whispered, kissing at Logan's jaw. 

"...and then I couldn't stop so I just re-enacted that whole scene in the perfect bathroom. I was Harry, Myrtle and the merpeople. Deserved an Oscar if you ask me." 

Leo caught the end of Finn's monologue, complete with enthusiastic gesturing, as he walked back into the bedroom. He'd learnt long ago not to ask questions, but that was definitely not what he had been expecting.

"Sounds like you had fun, babe," Leo chuckled, tapping Finn's ass as he passed by. 

"And don't think I didn't hear your dramatics. Very much appreciated, by the way." Finn said, an arm wrapping around Leo's waist as he was pulled back to Finn. Leo felt Finn's hand tilting his chin and pressing his lips to his own. It all happened so quickly, leaving Leo a bit dazed. 

Leo blinked, looking down at Finn with a smile. He took Finn’s hand from his chin, pressing his knuckles against his lips before pushing the washcloth into his curled fingers. "How about you take care of our boy over there and I'll make breakfast?" 

Finn hummed his approval, kissing Leo again. His collarbone this time. "I like that plan,” he said, reluctantly untangling himself from Leo. Still, there was a bounce in his step as he made his way to the bed. From the arms of one love to another.

Leo didn't leave straight away, letting himself indulge in the whispered tenderness of Logan and Finn. It was moments like this that he loved the most. The calm before the storm, as Leo thought of them. Soon they'd get up and it would be a symphony of noise - Leo loved that too - but for now it was murmured nothings and skin on skin, searching out comfort in the familiar beat of one another's hearts. Moments that should have been too private to watch, and yet Leo was welcome.

[corseque]

Since you played those three’s routes, which one would you suggest if someone wanted the most the thematic ties, without romancing Solas? Blackwall’s feels the most obvious to me, but I’d love your thoughts. Also, how would you rank those romances personally?

BLACKWALL yeah BUT ALSO IRON BULL? And CULLEN too actually?

They’re all so related it’s wild. All 4 are monster husband romances. 

Bear = Blackwall

Lion =  Cullen

Dragon = Iron Bull

Wolf = Solas

In different ways, moral monsters with regrets who are trying to change their life, or are failing to do so. All of them are about the identity of the character, and who they want to be or decide to become. Names, and names changing. Titles and roles in society. Deception and shame.

Hissrad/Iron Bull, becoming tal-vashoth

Blackwall/Rainier, the concept of a “good man”

Cullen as a Templar or a free man

Solas (obvious)

Failure to live up to their promises or their responsibilities to their roles, and generally stories about weakness or faltering

Iron Bull and his responsibility to the Qun but also his men

Blackwall and his responsibility to his men

Cullen and his responsibility to the Inquisition

Solas and his responsibility to the people

About finding faith or strength or trust in those outside themselves

Iron Bull’s shift from the Qun to the Chargers

Blackwall’s shift to the Grey Wardens or the Inquisition

Cullen’s shift from the Templars to the Inquisition

solas’ failure to do this :’(

All of them are about these men trying to transform and heal after experiencing incredible trauma that just breaks you

Blackwall’s deep moral injury, having to live with yourself afterward

Solas’ indescribably deep moral injury that even Cole can barely catch the edges of, it’s so big and horrible

Iron Bull’s deep moral injury, when he lost himself fighting the Fog Warriors, and the tension dividing himself from his people

Cullen’s deep trauma after the Circle collapsed in DAO and Kirkwall collapsed in DA2, and the moral injury of how he contributed to what happened to the mages in Kirkwall, recognizing that and wanting to do better than Meredith

And actually, Bull, Blackwall and Solas in the game fully talk to each other and judge each other and relate and help each other process their traumas because they have such closely related experiences. It makes me so sad that Solas deeply projects onto the others negatively but at the same time is particularly good at helping and comforting the others over these moral injuries. I put their (spoiler) banter under a cut at the end, for reference to show they really do talk to each other about their traumas, and compare themselves to each other. I kind of wish Cullen could have had banters with them too.

As for ranking them, I think they’re all very good. Solasmance is bestmance lol

Blackwall: You haven't said much to me since... well, you know.

Solas: There is little to say. I assumed we were alike. We'd seen war, knew its terrible costs, but understood that it was necessary. But there was nothing necessary in what you did. You did not survive death and destruction. You sowed them. To feed your own desires.

Blackwall: I know that. I see it every time I look in a mirror. I try to make up for it.

Solas: By wearing another skin. You ran away rather than face what you had done. You wasted your time.

Solas: I wish to apologize for what I said to you, Blackwall.

Blackwall: You were right, though. I deserved it.

Solas: My people had a saying long ago - "The healer has the bloodiest hands." You cannot treat a wound without knowing how deep it goes. You cannot heal pain by hiding it. You must accept. Accept the blood to make things better. You have taken the first step. That is the hardest part.

Solas: So, you and the Inquisitor are together.

Blackwall: Yes. Is that a problem?

Solas: Far from it. People should seize any chance for a moment's respite in times such as these. I am glad you've allowed yourself some happiness.

Blackwall: I expected you to think that I should keep punishing myself.

Solas: I would be concerned if you forgot your past, but that seems unlikely. Beyond that, guilt is a distraction. One we can ill afford.

Blackwall: What of you, then? Have you found someone to share a moment's respite?

Solas: I find my peace elsewhere.

Blackwall: You sacrificed your own men.

Iron Bull: I'm Qunari. We don't flinch from duty.

Blackwall: Your men trusted you. You betrayed that trust when you left them to die.

Iron Bull: No.

Blackwall: No?

Iron Bull: Two key differences between you and me, Rainier.

Iron Bull: First, I didn't kill a wagon full of kids.

Iron Bull: My men were holding a position to secure an objective. I mourn their loss and honor their sacrifice.

Iron Bull: And second, I'm proud of who I am. I hope that's not a problem for you.

Blackwall: Not unless you ask me to hold a hill, Qunari.

Blackwall: So, Bull, how does it feel to be Tal-Vashoth?

Iron Bull: Feels a bit like I've been living a lie, and now it's coming back to bite me in the ass. What's that like, Blackwall?

Blackwall: Calm down, I meant no offense.

Blackwall: As you say, I know something of being cut off from a past life, having to find a new way.

Iron Bull: Well, you could've just led with that.

Blackwall: In any event, you have the Chargers. You haven't lost everything.

Iron Bull: Yeah, I think I'm good.

Iron Bull: Now, isn't this better? Getting the burden of that lie off your chest?

Blackwall: And exchanging it for the burden of everyone hating me? Yes. So much better.

Iron Bull: Hey, I don’t hate you. You and me? We’re good.

Iron Bull: Now that you know who you are, you can stop doubting yourself and start hitting crap again.

Blackwall: Why don't we hit a few bottles first, huh?

Solas: You fought the Tal-Vashoth for a long time, Iron Bull, did you not?

Iron Bull: Every day.

Iron Bull: I'd kill some of them, they'd kill some of my guys, and then I'd kill them some more.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters.

Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don't know.

Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

Iron Bull: Nice job in that last fight, Solas. You really kicked the crap outta that guy.

Solas: I suppose.

Iron Bull: What, you don't think so? You ripped him a new one. It was great!

Solas: Unless the fight is personal, violence is a means to an end. It isn't appropriate to celebrate.

Iron Bull: I don't know. Gotta wonder about anyone who fights as much as we do and doesn't have some fun with it.

Solas: We have fought living men, with loves and families, and all that they might have been is gone.

Iron Bull: Yeah, but they were assholes!

Iron Bull: So, you going to let me have it, Solas? Or do I get to wait and wonder.

Solas: What do you mean?

Iron Bull: We've got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured...

Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions?

Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission.

Solas: I never said otherwise.

Solas: The truth is, Iron Bull, you are Qunari. I cannot be disappointed in your decisions.

Solas: As a mindless, soulless drone, you could never make any.

Solas: You are not Tal-Vashoth, Iron Bull, not really.

Iron Bull: Well that's a fuckin' relief.

Solas: You are no beast, snapping under the stress of the Qun's harsh discipline.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life.

Iron Bull: I've always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth?

Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

Iron Bull: Thanks, Solas.

[snapitseventeen]

relationship tag | ljh | fluff

summary: when youtuber!jihoon posts a video about your relationship genre: fluff word count: 1.4k _____________________________________________________________

“-I can’t believe I’m doing this, the shit I do for you guys.” Jihoon grumbles into the camera, fixing his newly dyed back-to-black hair under a baseball cap. You only chuckled getting fully situated next to him as you gave a little smile and wave to the camera. “Well, if you read the title of this video, you know what this is already about! I usually don’t do this sort of thing, I mean, this youtube channel is basically a glorified soundcloud, but! I’ve gotten so many comments on who this beautiful person is sitting next to me and I’m sure you’ve seen y/n on all my social media, we do live together after all. So yes, this is my better half, y/n and we are doing the relationship tag.”

In contrast to Jihoon’s blunt words, he gave you the softest of smiles at his introduction, putting a hand on your back for you to say some words. You grinned and waved again, “Hi guys, I’m y/n. Jihoon’s my boyfriend-I, I don’t know, what should I say? Hey don’t laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, babe.” He chuckled, reaching to tickle your sides, “You’re just cute. Sorry--anyway! I don’t either, I mean, they’re just curious about you and about us I guess? So I looked up a bunch of questions and we’re just gonna lay it all out on the table.”

“This is definitely not like your mixing videos Ji,” You said tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Alright, shoot.”

“Where did we meet?”

You relaxed at the simple question, a smile on your face as you reminisced on your first memory of him, “Easy, it was at Seokmin’s birthday party three years ago. We were playing beer pong--even though Jihoon literally can’t drink--and you were starting to feel sick halfway through the game so I drank the rest of the cups for our team.”

“We lost, by the way. Soonyoung has a fucking killer aim, I still hate the boys for making me play because, yeah I swear I’m allergic to alcohol, but I did get to meet you,” He said with a grin, “So throwing up that night in Seokmin’s bathroom was all worth it.”

You laughed and hit his arm, “Lightweight.”

“I’m allergic.” He deadpanned at the camera. “Anyway, what was your first impression of me?”

“Competitive. I’m telling you guys, he was literally swearing at Soonyoung and Jeonghan across the ping pong table. I also thought you were cute, I can say that now because it’s been three years, but you would have never gotten it out of me back then.” You said holding your hand up, “Wait, do I have to answer all the questions? I wanna know what you thought of me.”

“I thought you were cute too,” He laughed placing his hand around your waist, “You were also my savior that night because I probably would have died from alcohol poisoning if you weren’t my partner, the boys would have never drank for me because they’re asswipes and want me to suffer. y/n helped me to the bathroom after we lost and made sure I was hydrated and then I was hooked.”

You rolled your eyes, jokingly pinching his side, “You’re such a liar.”

Jihoon chuckled, “I’m kidding. It wasn’t like that, but after y/n did that, I was pretty interested in getting to know em more.”

“Okay next question,” you clapped your hands, your boyfriend looking at you fondly before glancing at his phone again. “Alright, I’ll do another easy one. How long have we been together?”

“two years,” you smiled up at him, the boy nodding as he added onto your answer, “and four months. Hm, what was our first date?”

“Our first official date was a picnic in the park, we ordered some takeout and had a bluetooth speaker playing music. Literally, we were just sitting, talking, and eating for hours.” You hummed, “Jihoon and I are pretty lazy so our dates aren’t that thrilling, but honestly we had plenty of hangouts before when it was just you and me in the music studio.”

“In college, I literally lived in the studios. y/n would come and hang out with me a lot.” Jihoon nodded. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together, “I’d bring food and coffee, sometimes I would study while Jihoon was playing with the mixing board, I don’t know, being around him was comforting--it still is.”

“I hope so,” He teased searching for another question, “I got this from one of the comments, what do you guys do during quarantine?”

“We don’t do much,” You said, “Sorry, we’re pretty boring. I mean, we sleep a lot--wait! That sounded wrong-”

“We do a lot of that too-”

“Jihoon!” You smacked his arm as he shrugged, “We’re grown adults in a relationship, y/n. It’s an unspoken fact.”

“My parents watch your channel!” You crossed your arms. Your boyfriend only shot a charming smile to the camera, waving innocently, “Hi Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n. Hope you’re doing well! Don’t worry, I’m taking good care of y/n-”

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoffed, making Jihoon chuckle and pull you in for a hug, “Alright moving on, oh this is a good one, what do we argue about the most?”

“Hm, this isn’t really the case now because you finally found a good work-life balance, but before we always had little fights about when Jihoon needed to stop working on his music and go take a rest.” You said with a little frown, “What do you think?”

“Yeah, back then I was pretty bad at it, sometimes I got annoyed when you would tell me to stop working, but I know now that you were doing it for my health.” He said sheepishly. “Now, though, it’s probably who gets to be little spoon. Jihoon loves being little spoon.”

“Hey!” He whined lightly pushing your stomach. You only laughed, “Your viewers wanna know the real you, babe. I think this is a crucial fact.”

“Being little spoon is nice...” He muttered quietly, a blush on his cheeks. He cleared his throat, getting back to the questions. You smiled and changed your positions so that you were sitting in between his legs, the boy resting his chin on your shoulders as you both answered more questions.

This was nice, Jihoon hadn’t really opened up to his viewers much about your relationship, but you knew he was pretty enthusiastic about this video even if he didn’t say so. He was now retelling the story of your first trip with the boys, laughing about something idiotic Seungkwan and Hansol did at the supermarket. Somewhere in the middle, you started spacing out and just staring at him. The sparkle in his eyes and the way his cheeks raised as he smiled filling you up with butterflies. Momentarily forgetting that this was being recorded, you lifted your head and pressed a kiss on his cheek, interrupting his story. “Babe,”

“Oh shit, sorry, I forgot about the camera. You just looked so cute.” You said hiding your face in your hands. Jihoon grinned and hugged you tighter, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s alright. Sorry guys if you hate pda, sue me if you want, but I’m in love.”

Your face scrunched up at his cringey line, but you snuggled into his embrace nonetheless, “any more questions?”

“Let’s do one more,” He said rocking your bodies back and forth, “Complete the sentence: My boyfriend is ____”

“Hmm,” You said thinking for a little bit, “My boyfriend is...my soulmate.”

Jihoon beamed, he swore his lips were going to rip apart. He kissed your shoulder, whispering an I love you into your skin before he looked at the camera. “Well, I hope you guys got what you asked for with this relationship tag. As you can see, I’m very lucky to have y/n. You guys should thank em too, y/n’s a muse to most of my music. I don’t know if we’ll do any more of these kinds of videos, depends on my mood.” He said with a wink, adding more closing remarks.

“Hope you enjoy this video and keep supporting Jihoon! If this video gets 500K likes, I’ll post the snapchat of Jihoon drunk during our first meeting-”

“Uh woah, who said I was okay with that-”

“See you guys on Ji’s social media~” You cooed crawling out of Jihoon’s grasp to end the recording. You turned to face him once the camera was off, a teasing smile on your face as he pursed his lips at you.

“You are not posting that video of me,” He said walking towards you. You only shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, “If you get 500K on this video, I will.”

“You’re impossible,” He said with a little shake of his head, removing his baseball cap and putting it on you, “You hungry babe?”

You nodded puckering your lips up expectantly. Jihoon chuckled and gave you a kiss, smiling against your lips. “C’mon, I ordered sushi before we started recording.”

“I love you.”

“I know babe.”

“Hey say it back-”

“I love you too, Jihoon.” _______________________________________________________________________

a/n this was short but JIHOON!!!!! DESERVES!!! THE!!! WHOLE!!! WORLD!!! good night streaks 

6-27-20

[moons-and-stars-and-shit]

Hi hiii! I would like to order a cake! >.<

First of all thank you for the matchup (for haikuu) I am a 5’3 girl with long light brown hair and green eyes. I am a pisces sun and rising and a leo moon. My personality type is isfj but I am an ambivirt. I’m mostly atttacted to guys but i’m happy with anyone. I am kind to everyone I meet and I am loyal to my friends. My friends describe be and bubbly and in the clouds lol but when I need to I can be hardworking and tend to be a perfectionist. I tend to be attracted to people who are funny/joke around and like adventures/push me out of my confort zone but I also like chill relaxed time. I’m dyslexic and have ADHD and deal with anxiety with a social aspect and because of that I get tics sometimes. I am super spiritual and have a major plant obsession and loveee crystals. I like all types of art and fashion and enjoy playing video games with my friends. I kin kenma with a little bit of owkawa and bokuto. I hope you have a lovely day >.<

🍰 for @akiranolegs

Romantic Matchup

Daichi Sawamura

How yall met

You were actually friends with noya and tanaka

And when some members of the team needed tutoring

They suggested that you helped tutor them all

So daichi approached you and asked if you could PLEASE help the team

And you agreed

Daichi always supervised your study group

Only because your group consisted of Tanaka,Noya,Hinata,and Kagayama…

So yeah...problematic

But he was shocked when you were not only able to control Tanaka and noya

But somehow got Hinata and Kagayama to stop fighting

And after all those tutoring sessions he continued to talk to you

Yall starting hanging out more and eventually started dating

What they love about you

He loves that you have a very carefree personality

But can get serious if you need too

He saw the perfect example of this when you were tutoring the team

He also loves how hardworking you can be

Like if you want something your gonna work hard to get it

And he respects that trait of yours

The last thing he loves about you is how you can seem to handle the teams craziness

He's started using you as a threat to the team

“If you guys dont stop i'll call y/n in here and have her deal with you”

The team: 👁👄👁💧

What you love about them

You love that he knows your limits

He knows you have social anxiety and takes the lead in most social situations

However if its a more easy going social interaction hell push you to get more involved

You love that he shows interest in all of your interests

Especially crystals!

You gave him a necklace with an obsidian stone in it

He wears it whenever he can

(btw obsidian is the stone for strength and protection)

Sometimes you joke about it because he wasn't wearing hit when him and Tanaka crashed into each other

Favorite things to do together

He really likes to go shopping for crystals with you

Like if you mention going hell always ask to come

He loves to do cheap thrills with you

His favorite one is getting into his car with a coin and flipping it

Heads means right and tails means right

And yall just drive around listening to music

You can't even count how many times you've gotten lost playing that game

Random Hc

His favorite crystals are obsidian, rose quartz, and amethyst

You gave him one of your baby plants to take care of and he's too afraid to tell you it died

RIP plant 🌱

You tools sugas role as ‘mom’ of the team

He is now the wine aunt of the team

He has a very large crystal collection and takes a random 5 to away games or training camps

Astrology

Pisces + Capricorn

Compatibility 76%

A relationship between Capricorn and Pisces tells a story about possibilities of inspiration.

If someone like Capricorn can be pulled into a crazy love story, exciting and unpredictable, this must be done by Pisces.

In return, Capricorn will offer their Pisces partner stability, peace and some rest from their usual emotional tornadoes.

There is a fine way in which Capricorn can help Pisces be more realistic and practical, while feeling more cheerful and optimistic themselves.

Still, there are challenges in their contact, mainly represented through their love of Jupiter.

It might be hard for them to reconcile their different approaches to religion, faith and their different belief systems.

To overcome this, it is best if they both ask themselves – does their belief system work? And does one of their partners also work?

If they understand answers to these questions, they might find enough respect to leave each other’s Jupiter intact.

Friendship Matchup

Sugawara Koushi

Bark bark woof bark woof

How yall met

You also met Suga while tutoring the team

He helped you calm down everyone in your group if they got to crazy

Ngl you picked up some mom tendencies from him

Why you became friends

Although you appreciated him helping you with your study group

There was one thing that made you really like him…

After you stopped tutoring the team he legit made you a whole ass thank you basket

It had all of your favorite snacks and drinks in it

And he had wrote you a really sweet thank you letter

After he gave you that you felt bad so you gave him a thank you basket for your thank you basket

He was like 🤨 “that's not how that works but thank you so much!”

You guys really just started talking after that and became really good friends

What yall love about each other

He loves how bubbly you are!

Like when you two are together it just creates such a positive vibe

And he loves how your always down for some chaos

I stand by the fact that suga is a chaotic boy

The only difference between him and tanaka and noya is that he doesn't get caught

So you two always do some crazy shit together

And then later feel bad because tanaka and noya always get blamed for it

You love how aggressively encouraging he is

Like if you step out of your comfort zone to do something

This man is right behind you like “GET IT BITCHHHHH”

And it just hypes you up to do more things that are outside your comfort zone

Random Hc

You guys have matching bff necklaces

This one specifically

The team is kinda scared of you two

Like they're more scared of you two than Daichi

And that's saying something

One time for gits and shiggles you got that picture with the vice principles wig on daichi and put it on shirts

Yeah he was not too happy to see you two wearing those

You guys tend to get into petty arguments but tend to solve them within the day

Astrology

Pisces + Gemini

Gemini and Pisces understand each other well, and form a strong friendship.

Pisces are imaginative and sensitive, and Gemini must be careful not to hurt their feelings.

However, any arguments they have are easily forgotten, and they rarely bear ill will towards each other.

The ruling planet of Gemini is Mercury, and the ruling planets for Pisces are Jupiter and Neptune.

Mercury represents communication, and Neptune represents spiritual strength. The two star signs are very compatible with each other.

Jupiter represents knowledge and empathy. Mercury also represents intelligence and innovation. Gemini could come up with new plans often, and Pisces could always support them.

Gemini is an air sign, and Pisces is a water sign. Both partners place a lot of importance on intellect and feelings.

The partnership is filled with action, and both friends preserve a good, compliant relationship.

However, on occasions, there could be misunderstandings, aggravation, and communicative barriers between them.

Both signs have lively imagination and that keeps them going.

Even though they argue often, they resolve their differences quickly. However, the fish could easily get dejected and put down, especially if it feels that the twins don’t understand them clearly.