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#the world around me is breaking and crumbling and burning

riseatlantisss · 8 months

Text

The end we start from

Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3

Astarion doesn’t feel good enough. you show him he’s everything.

TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood

A/N : when i don’t work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i don’t eat. i don’t sleep. i don’t socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.

Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, that’s all he’s been, and you’ve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarion’s side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasn’t been slept in. This isn’t right. Of course, he doesn’t really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means something’s off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance you’re falling back asleep now anyway.

Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you don’t have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldn’t even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.

You want to ask him if he’s ok but it’s obvious he’s not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I’m just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.”

You frown and stare at him incredulously. “You’re not selfish,” you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. “Why would you even say that?”

“I –” He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. “I caused you great pain,” he finally says. “I put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.”

You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this – grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.

“I’m not dead, Astarion. I’m right here with you.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.

“But I did put you in danger and now you’re stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and you—" Again, he stops. He’s bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because it’s you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything that’s happened. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I can’t give it to you.” You’re not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. “I can’t give it to you, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for it. It’s killing me all over again.” You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you can’t stand it. You can’t but you can’t do him the dishonor of looking away either.

“Astarion, I chose this life.” Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. “I had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. I’m not stuck here. I’m home.”

Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. “Sometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.” He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. “You should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.” You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.

“It won’t get any better in here,” he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. “It’ll always be cold and dark, I’ll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and I’ll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.”

His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

“You don’t know what makes me happy. You don’t,” you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.

“You – you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.” Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. “By no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I can’t believe that you could even think –” You trail off and sigh in frustration. You can’t bring yourself to scream at him any longer because that’s all he’s ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you can’t do this to him. But that doesn’t leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let him.

Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you can’t help thinking that you almost lost this once and you can’t actually lose it. You won’t let that happen. So you kiss him harder. It’s rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.

He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, it’s his.

But he doesn’t take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.

Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound that’s close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching – aching to have him inside.

He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but you’re not sure; your head falls back and it feels like you’re breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.

You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe you’ll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until he’s all the way in.

“Harder. Fuck me harder.” You plead and he obeys.

He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his – the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.

You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply don’t die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.

Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. You’re so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.

Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.

Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.

“Please…. Please don’t ever tell me to leave, ever again.” You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.

He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, “Shh,” into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. “I love you, always have and always will. And you’re not going anywhere.”

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mrs-kmikaelson · 10 months

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Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-” you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better.

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable.

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better.

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish.

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter.

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you.

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same.

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to.

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

1K notes · View notes

samodivaa · 1 year

Text

Deny the truth,set my world on fire (Part 1)

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Winter Soldier x Reader)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Part 2⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ Part 3 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* Part 4⋆*･ﾟ:⋆* He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember. ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Warnings - heavy angst, betrayal, smut, non consensual, dom!Soldat. rough!Soldat Words - 2000

Bucky was already waiting on the couch, tormented by the decision he has made – to confront her. Y/n enters their shared apartment, carelessly smiling at him. She seemed so generous about her love – a constant presence and support since the fight on the airport years ago. Grace and patience and consideration is what she made him master once again, these little qualities are in his control, thanks to her kind soul. Y/n helped him forgive himself and he chose to return love and compassion, chose to fight his past. Wakanda was their secret - beautiful and peaceful. Her heart was born open and although his hands were empty at the time, he filled them with the soft fire made from the two ember eyes. The dreamy mind is full, overflows with tender memories… When she enters a room, it blazes with red, pink, roses, but behind her blossomed spirit stood a façade he was not aware of. The floral presence is poisoned, spreading into him. And just like the deadly nightshade, she is indeed is a poisonous flower.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks coldly, taking a sip of his bottle before putting it back on the table. A stressed dove, mournfully looking at her as he gets up. "How long?" he asks again. „Bucky, what is the matter with you?“ There won’t be a chance of escape, he steps closer, towering over her as some sort of a warning. He just came back to life, laying under the warmth of it and is already being burned by the person who he trusted the most. Abstained for far too long, he needs to hear her says it – he needs the truth to devour his life. "Can I ask what happened to your neck?" pointing to her neck, his tone is still neutral, but his eyes are exhausted by the phantom following his mind the past days. Love makes knots, now it is brutally tearing them apart. He ran from the darkness of his nightmares for so long, only to find himself in a situation darker still. „I don’t know“ she is wearing a turtleneck shirt, she hates those – inside she is crumbling as much as her lies. “You don’t know?” his tone strays to the realms of anger – it consumes him, fear ensnares her until her back hits the wall behind, Bucky not withdrawing from her face even for a moment “Who was it?“

"No one, Bucky" she manages to retain her posture, not giving him the satisfaction of telling the truth. The blade of her words hit a nerve. "You’re terrible at lying" He crosses his hands, nails digging into his arms. Silence looms for a while before he nods, his dearest love painting his misery and his eyes ache with the weight of the unspoken truth. “So no explanation, got it" „I don’t know how I got them…“ Bucky’s eyes narrow slightly, trying to shackle his intention of breaking something. "So you have no idea what happened to your neck? Are you making fun of me or do you have brain damage“ his tone finally rises as he takes the collar of her shirt between his metal fingers, pulling it down rashly to reveal the bite marks. The image wraps around his throat as a wreath of spikes. “Who did that to your neck, because I am sure that it was not me“ „Jesus Bucky, why are you so angry, I didn’t do anything. We literally spend most-“ He laughs devilishly, still holding her by the colar. “Just so many bad things happening in my life. Nothing important, nothing new, just one thing after another, you know?” There is no such thing as life for him , it's just catastrophe. Unmoored and alone, his eyes become full of tears. The only still part is his body. He gives her one more chance to say something, to explain herself in any way, but the silence is pain chiselled forever into his chest, it hurts more than words. "Don’t be angry, please…let me go…“ "Don’t be angry…don’t be angry" he whispers as a lullaby, staring into her teary eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at her audacity to even cry. "We shared a life and you to cheated on me" His favorite beauty and terror on myriad levels keep her silence. He decides to let go of her collar, his fingers clenching to fists as their drop weightlessly to the sides of his body. "You expect me to believe this…? Really, y/n?” he says , his expression is still angry, but it appears softer "If you didn’t want to tell me because you‘re afraid, it‘s fine. Just be honest and tell me that, why are you still lying? That hurts me more than you think." „I am not…“ He stands there unmoving, staring at her and it seems like he‘s still processing this realty of her not having any concern towards him. Her mind is resting whilst his is grieving, wondering and reasoning. He can’t gain control of his dreadful spirit, he is the shell he was back at Wakanda. A tear runs down from the wet, dreamful eyes, landing on his cheek as he looks down, trying to hide it from her. Bucky takes a step away from her and rubs his eyes. His hands are shaking and it‘s obvious that he doesn’t want to cry in front of her. Their love is his apparition, a figment of his imagination. He observe her for a moment, he is dying in that house, buried underneath the floor of their shared past and she just watches it unfold. Bucky finally shakes his head in disbelief. "So you‘re telling me you have no idea where that bruise came from?" a weak laugh escapes his lips, choking back a sob. „You’re lying, I know it“ he says in a calm voice, but there was a quiet threat hidden beneath it. „I don’t want to leave, Bucky“ "And I don‘t want to get cheated on" he counters with an angry scream as his pain is infinite at this point. All kind of thoughts stirring inside of him. „I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.“ It makes him tremble to remember their daily life, but now he is unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will. „I can’t tell you...I can’t...I will leave“ she whispers, having found a comfort in hiding. "Fine, leave then!” Bucky snarls, before he spins around as his heavy footsteps resonate through the quiet room, but he stops himself to look at her for the last time – the end of the line.

Bucky watches her leave, already nostalgic for his love. He doesn’t say a word, not even bothering to close the door as he stands in the doorstep, watching her go. Y/n notices him staring from the darkness of the doorway as she makes her way into the world. Bucky’s inner self is shutting down more and more, as though to protect himself, but it became inaccessible even to himself. Over the next couple of days, Bucky shuts himself completely in his lonely home. He only leaves the apartment to buy alcohol and some food. His days are spent either drinking or sleeping, and when he‘s awake and sober, he just sits on the couch blankly, staring at the wall. He is composed of nothing, but illness – a phantom built out of pain. The days turn to weeks. With his heart broken, he despises life. Rising from a grave with each morning, wallowing in his sadness and alcohol. („What went wrong...Did I do something wrong?”) he wonders for weeks repeatedly, tears again rolling down his cheeks. „What did I do to deserve this“ he screams, slamming his metal fist into the wall, there is nothing but a stain in his heart, it grew – infecting the whole heart. He slowly slides down, sitting on the ground as he buries his head into his arms and starts to cry.

- Two days before she left - „Bucky, baby…I don’t wanna do anything tonight, let’s just sleep“ he was getting harder and harder, pressing into her back to let her know. He whispers in her ear, but the voice is huskier than usual and filled with seduction „Цветок...“ (Flower) Bucky’s control is slipping once again and y/n gups at the realization. The metal grip tightens on her hip, drawing her even closer to his clothed cock. Fingers pass through the fabric of the nightdress, pulling it upwards to reveal her butt cheeks. His warm hand, spilled under her body proceeding to lightly trace his fingers over her nipple. She knows to her remove the panties by herself, not wanting to anger the Soldier from the very beginning as it happened last time. He groans, closing his eyes to savor the scent of her hair. Vibranium fingers digs his into her soft skin, leaving prints of evidence. „No, don’t…please…he will see“ she desperately tries to voice her concern, knowing there is no way of fighting him in this state. „Пусть он увидит…“ (let him see) His breath fanned the skin of her neck, sending chills to the bone.

He dragged his length through her wetness, pushing in fully leaving y/n with no time to adjust. Tears roll down her beautiful face, why this keeps on happening? The warm touches of his human arm move to from her nipple to her stomach „Я хочу ребенка...да.“ (I want a baby…yes) She takes a deep breath, sometimes regret settles in for not telling Bucky that the Winter Soldier was very present and real. He never seems to remember, they operate as different people. She whimpers at the cold touch to her clit, he was flicking it, making her body shake. His hand returns to her hip, grabbing it harshly as he starts thrusting deeply. His pace becomes erratic, being closer to his orgasm. Soldat forcefully holds her in place so he can fill her with hot cum. Her reality hurts so much. She wants to get away, but when she had tried before – resulted in him being close to sadistic. His fingers trail to her hair, removing it from her neck and he sinks his teeth. Goosebumps trickle up there, from fear, from pain as he slowly turns her head towards him – there is no sight of Bucky.

#winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x y/n #winter solider imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x f #bucky barnes x female reader #dark fanfiction #angst

1K notes · View notes

mingigoo · 7 months

Note

1- Mingi

2- High school au

3- Prompts 12, 50, 53, and 56.

4- 18+ (some fluff but also rough?)

5- Reader is shy and a lil depressed while Mingi is one of the popular guys who everyone thinks doesn’t have any emotions but it’s actually a softie. (I love cliches what can I say). Can the genre be Strangers to lovers? Maybe he finds her crying in a classroom and that’s how they met. Also can there be a size kink and voice kink please?

Thank you!

nightmare, daydream || s.mg (m)

📓pairing ⇢ tutor! (fem) reader x popular boy! Mingi

📓 summary ⇢ in the quiet of the school’s art room during lunch time, Mingi accidentally interrupts your vulnerable moment. It was as if your usual invisible self was finally noticed. He intrigued you immensely, and as you are paired up to help tutor him, you find out that he’s much sweeter than he would like to lead on.

📓 genre/au ⇢ strangers to lovers au, high school au, slow burn, smut, angst, some fluff

📓 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, voice kink, slight hand link, size kink, slightly rough sex, teasing, mingi is a secret scaredy-cat, longing, high school lovers, probably more i'm just blanking so please let me know what I missed.

📓 word count ⇢ 11.1k

📓 taglist ⇢ @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @leeknowsnothing @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)

y/n and mingi’s moodboards

The air was crisp as you breathed in, leaves crunching underneath your feet.

It was still warm out—just between summer and fall. The leaves, however, were already falling, but some were still stuck on the branches like their lives depended on it. You envied their efforts, but yet, you knew they were going to fall just like the rest of them—it was inevitable.

School had just started like any other year. You weren't exactly happy to go back, but at least it was your last. You wouldn't have to see the faces of your classmates ever again—you never got along with any of them, anyway.

The timing never seemed right. Your life had been a mess since you could remember, but it had just got worse a few days ago when you received the news of your father’s passing. He wasn't involved in your life; you forced yourself not to feel a thing about that man—but death was permanent, and you were terrified of it. If you cried about him, that would make you weak. But maybe, just maybe, bottling up these emotions was going to hurt you more than death ever could.

As you turned the corner to enter the school’s gates, a group of rambunctious boys pushed past you, laughing and carrying on and breaking the dress code. They never seemed to care if their ties were tied right, let alone tucking in their shirts. They always looked so messy to you; disorganized. It sent your hyperfocused mind into a spiral, but you shut it out and continued to make your way inside.

The hallway was bustling more than usual.

You had a hard time with crowded places.

You pushed past some girls, who, as they always did, glared at you as you passed by. You were used to it, and your mother used to tell you it was because they were jealous. You knew that wasn't the case, rather, it was your backwardness that seemed to get on their nerves more than your beauty.

You never understood your purpose. Somedays, you weren't even sure you were real. The world felt like it was crumbling around you non-stop, and you didn't know how to feel. You still don't know how to feel the things around you, as if your body didn't deserve it. Your soul didn't deserve it.

Like every other year, you sat down in the back of the classroom, away from those that actually mattered. Those seats should be for the ones that light up the room.

Maybe it was your OCD, but if you weren't at least fifteen minutes early, you were late. And if you were late, you hated yourself even more than you already did. So, here you were, sitting in an empty classroom while the rest of your classmates carried on in the corridors and made out in the bathrooms—which was disgusting, by the way. Who would ever do that?

The silence felt….comfortable. It was only you and the slight hum of the wind through the open windows. You were too far away to feel it, but you imagined it soaring through your hair, dancing through you.

But said silence ended after the popular crowd emptied into the room, girls trailing behind the boys like leeches craving blood.

You shivered.

The boys were popular for reasons. Two of them played basketball, the other baseball, and then….

And then there was him.

Mingi wasn't an athlete like his friends, although he had a body like one. You watched him walk into the room like he owned it, his jaw set tightly as his friends cackled about something. You remembered back in middle school when he was small and scrawny—and slightly shorter than you. Now, the boy grew into a man, his muscular frame taking up so much space that it almost suffocated you.

You never saw him smile despite his raging popularity. It was as if he was just….there. He didn't speak much, you noted. He had this aura about him that interested you beyond degree, but yet, you made no effort to dig deeper.

You couldn't help but watch him take his seat on the other side of the room, right next to the open window. He liked sitting by windows. It almost brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight. He reminded you more of the moon, but not at night. More so, the moon before the sun sets—barely there, but still noticeable. You, on the other hand, weren't even a star in his almost-night sky.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked blonde in the sunlight, shining smoothly. He made you angry. Everything about him. But he never personally victimized you in any way. He just……never noticed you.

The rest of the class piled in as the warning bell rang, jumping into their seats but still talking to their friends. You remained quiet, your deskmate not even sparing a passing glance at you.

“Good morning, seniors,” the teacher, who you haven't seen before, smiled at everyone. “I bet you're all ecstatic to be back.”

A bunch of groans, complaints, etcetera erupted. You didn't say anything. Your deskmate already had his head down.

And then the teacher looked at you. Only for a second, but long enough. You were first in the class, which no one else seemed to know other than the faculty and staff. You would prefer it that way, but this year, you'll have a lot of attention on you.

Your eyes traveled to Mingi once more, watching him look out the window with his chin in his hand. He wasn't paying attention one bit.

The classes came and went. Your head hurt by the end of the day, stuffing all the information you learned because that was all you had for the future. University was your only option, your only ‘dream’ if you could call it that.

Art class on the first day was pointless, but you never wanted to leave the room. It was the one thing that you enjoyed deeply. Painting was something you shared with your mother. Your favorite thing to paint was what you saw—little things around that made your heart feel something.

When it was time to eat lunch, the rest of the kids ran out of the art room, groups of friends having fun together. You watched Mingi and his friends get up, one of them hanging onto his broad, broad shoulders like a jungle gym. His gaze never strayed from his path, even if you were in it. He moved out of the room like a big wave, current pulling everything out of the room except you.

Once everyone was gone, including the teacher, you walked over to the windowsill, seeing the little houseplant holding on to dear life. It was wilting despite getting sunlight. You stood over it, emotionless. Lips turned down, you reached out to touch its dying petals, causing one to fall to its death.

You sucked in a breath, your chest heavy. You've pushed all your emotions so far back that everything was bound to come up at once. You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it wouldn't budge. You felt the pressure behind your eyes while all your bottled-up issues came to the surface—your father’s death being the main event. You hated him for everything that he did, but he was still your father. He was….still something to you.

You sank to the floor, embarrassed, overwhelmed. Your soul felt heavier than ever, as if it just wanted to break away and leave this godforsaken world. The tears trailed down your cheeks even though you tried so hard to hold them back. It was okay to cry, it was okay. It's normal. Cry it out, cry it out, you'll feel better—

“...oh,” a deep voice rumbled through your body, causing you to take in a sharp breath and look up.

There he was, filling up the whole doorframe like a giant. You breathed in deeply, but the tears kept falling and falling. He stood awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked concerned, though, and it was at that moment, in the art room, that your invisible self became visible—at least to somebody.

“I….I’m sorry, I just came to grab my jacket,” he mumbled softly, gently. It caught you off guard. His presence felt oddly comforting. The look on his pretty face made you want to cry even more.

You slowly nodded, and he hesitantly entered the dim room, cautiously making his way to his easel to grab his jacket. You watched him, sniffling, beyond embarrassed. He tried not to look at you, you noticed, and you assumed it was because you looked like an absolute weirdo crying on the floor, in an art room, on the first day of classes.

And when you thought he was going to leave, he stopped dead in the doorway, his big, muscular shoulders tightening.

And then he turned around.

“I can….I can stay, if you want,” he hummed, his deep voice rippling through you. You looked up into his serious gaze, furrowing your eyebrows.

You wanted to ask him why. Why would someone like him spare a moment of his precious time to stay with a crying weird girl? Clearly, he was concerned; it was apparent on his face. It was just….so strange that he looked in your direction, especially at a time like this.

In a moment of weakness, you slightly nodded your head, forcing a smile—which may have looked more like a grimace. He took your nod as an okay and sat on the windowsill, keeping his distance. You looked up at him, tears still falling, but he wasn't looking at you. He was sitting with contentment, arms crossed over his chest with that emotionless face he always sported. You watched his foot, how it anxiously tapped against the floor, and how he just….made his large presence feel small.

You opened your mouth, trying to justify yourself. You didn't even know each other like this—you never spoke more than a sentence to each other before. You felt like you needed to explain why you were crying because if you didn't, he probably would've thought of you as that weirdo everyone believed you were.

“You don't have to tell me why,” he spoke, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying more.

You blinked up at him as he spoke, feeling his tone rumble through you. You had nothing to say—and that was okay. You both sat in the quiet room for some time, way longer than you thought he would stay, until your tears dried. The bell rang soon after, and he stood up hesitantly.

He gave you a genuine look of worry—but not pity.

“It’s okay to cry, you know,” he hummed at the door over his shoulder, tilting his head. “Don't be ashamed for feeling something.”

And then he left as if he were never there. The room felt even colder than it did before as if his presence warmed it. You smiled to yourself, his words hitting you deeply.

It was that moment when you declared that you were completely, irrevocably intrigued by him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

Like a daydream to your nightmare.

—

You watched Mingi the next day in homeroom again. This time, the sun didn't dare peek through the curtains of the clouds as they cried.

He sat with his head down on the desk, his eyes closed in his effort to sleep. His eyebrows were scrunched as if he couldn't let his mind rest. You wanted to ease him, just like he eased you yesterday.

He looked so beautiful, even on a rainy day. You knew he didn't have an umbrella today, as his hair was damp. He also looked cold, which struck you by surprise. He was so….large…if you could put it that way. You might have been jumping to conclusions when you assumed he couldn't get cold because of the sheer size of his body, but maybe it was because he seemed so warm to you. Like a comforting hug.

Without warning, his sleepy eyes started to open slowly, meeting your gaze from across the loud, busy room. You didn't move your stare away—you just kept on admiring him without words, taking notice of how the crease between his eyes eased just by looking at you. You didn't smile or speak. Neither did he. He just sat there, his head down still, but his eyes sparkled like they always did. As his friends carried on around him, he kept quiet, watching you from a distance.

The moment felt like forever, and when the first class began, He still kept his eyes on you.

—

That weekend, you ventured your way around on a mission to enjoy your favorite midnight snack. The convenience store on the corner always had the best selection of snacks, but tonight, you opted for just a banana milk. As you grabbed one, another large hand encased one next to you, startling you.

You looked to your right, Mingi standing there emotionless—but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Banana milk, huh?” he tilted his head, his gaze analyzing you like a work of art. You wondered if he thought of you as one. “I thought you'd be more of a strawberry girl.”

You blinked, confused. He was talking to you like a normal human being. You furrowed your brows as you looked at him, filtering your response.

“I like strawberry, too,” you admitted, giving him a confused glance before making your way to the register. He followed, a decent distance away from you, his body nearly twice the size of yours. Surprisingly, once again, his presence was far from intimidating.

He stepped in front of you as you went to pay, setting down his strawberry milk with yours. You were about to question his actions, but then he handed the worker money, paying for you without saying anything. You frowned but kept your mouth shut, knowing that he was just being kind. You did begin to worry if he did this out of pity.

You walked out of the store together, sitting down on the stoop outside. You sat shoulder to shoulder in silence, sipping on your milk comfortably. It has been a long time since you felt comfortable in silence with someone. It was nice.

You looked over at him as he stared straight ahead towards the road in front of you, his pretty, silver hair shining under the street lights.

“What’s your name?” he hummed gently, genuinely. You tried your best not to be insulted, but you tried to look at it in his view—in a room filled with a bunch of others, you probably never caught his eye enough to reach his curiosity.

You blinked at him, trying hard not to show any specific emotion. “y/n,” you stated, taking a sip of your banana milk.

He nodded, looking forward. He muttered your name as if he was trying to engrave it into his mind.

“y/n,” he murmured, nodding. You tried so hard not to feel butterflies.

After a moment of silence, you sat and watched him, probably weird to anyone other than you. But you looked at him, saw how he scrunched his nose as he looked forward, how his plump lips parted as he breathed. You noticed everything he did and didn't do.

“You're different than I thought you were,” you spoke, still staring at him. He moved his gaze to you, looking down through his long, dark eyelashes. You admired his beauty, having no reason to hide it.

He furrowed his eyebrows, still looking perfect. His expression lacked emotion, as if he had a hard time with it. “And how did you think I was?”

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact. You hated to hide your feelings, feeling as if it were pointless. He seemed like someone you could confide in, but maybe that was because you admired him for a long time. “I don't know, I just assumed you lacked a sense of humanity.”

He looked confused. “I…I don't get what you mean.”

“You were always so unreal to me,” you shrugged again, looking from his hair to his large hands holding onto the tiny milk. “Robotic-like.”

He nodded as if he agreed with you. You weren't the best at expressing yourself, but you had hoped he took your reasoning as a compliment.

More silence. You finished off your drink as he spoke once more.

“How are you?”

A simple question. A question usually asked without a care, just small talk. This time, however, he turned his body towards you, genuinely asking.

You looked away from him shyly. “I’m alright now,” you paused, refraining from saying more. “How are you?”

He sighed, looking forward. “I’m also alright. But I have detention tomorrow because I threw a basketball at some dickhead who thought it was okay to bully someone.”

You nearly smiled.

“That's not fair,” you hummed softly. “You were standing up for them, and you get the shit end of the stick.”

Mingi shrugged. “Violence still wasn't the answer,” he smiled, almost painfully. “I’m working on that.”

You admired him more than ever.

He stood up, towering over you. “I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

Your mind ran a mile a minute with everything you wanted to say to him. Yet, you kept your lips sealed and smiled.

“Yes,” you grinned. “I’ll see you, Mingi.”

—

“Miss y/n,” your homeroom teacher called for you as you walked down the hall, catching your attention. “Can I speak to you quickly?”

You nodded, knowing it was probably something to do with grades or planning some sort of event. You followed him into the empty classroom while he rummaged through some papers.

“I need you to tutor one of your classmates,” he spoke, still ruffling through a mess of papers until he found what he was looking for. “He requested you when I brought up the idea of getting tutored, so I hope you'll be interested. It’ll look great on your college application, of course.”

You furrowed your brows. “Who requested me? What’s the subject?”

“Uh…who was it…who was it—Ah, yes, Song Mingi. He’s struggling with chemistry.”

There you go again—as if it were fate. You were tangled with him once more, your mind circling back to him. You have never been involved with anyone to this degree, and the fact that Mingi requested you made it even more interesting.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll do it.”

You walked out of the classroom, a smile nearly reaching your lips. Things were getting interesting—you were starting to feel like a real high school student and not just some fly on the wall that everyone tried to ignore—or swat at.

In the chemistry lab, Mingi sat his ginormous ass down next to you, letting out a sigh as he did it. You received a few weird looks from your classmates, who were probably wondering why the hell the popular Song Mingi was paying attention to the creepy art freak.

Or maybe you were thinking way too far into things.

“Hello, tutor,” he whispered deeply, tossing his notebook onto the table in front of you. He looked extra nice today—his hair was styled, so his forehead was showing. You took notice of the delicate birthmark on his cheek and how something so small made a huge impact on beauty.

You blinked at him, not an ounce of fear in your body. “Your face is pretty,” you spoke softly, admiring him. You didn't exactly mean to blurt that out, but hey, it was true. Why should you act like you didn't find him breathtaking?

He looked taken aback by the random spew of admiration as if he’d never heard it before. His usually expressionless face brightened up, but only slightly. “You think I’m pretty?”

You nodded curtly, biting the corner of your lip. “Yeah, I’m sure everyone does.”

“Yes, but,” he rubbed his fingers against the spiral of his notebook, causing your attention to go to his long, gorgeous fingers. “Everyone else doesn't matter.”

You frowned, unsure what he meant by that. You didn't even have time to ask, anyway, as the teacher came in and started the lesson. Your eyes focused on his hands, his clean nails, his movements. He couldn't seem to stay still and had to move at least his fingers or his foot. It made you warm and fuzzy that such a big man had such human habits.

When you started the daily experiment, you bumped elbows with Mingi. He shied away, rather than you, and looked at you with a lost expression. You began to work together, but as your thoughts began to move to the idea of Mingi’s hands on you, all over you, you accidentally knocked over the beaker of chemicals. You shrieked back, bumping into Mingi’s chest, and as if it were a reflex, he held your shoulders tightly as if to protect you.

“What happened?” the teacher inquired, and you turned to her, Mingi still embracing you from his enormous height. It was then you realized how much smaller you were—your head only reaching his shoulder.

You tried to form words, but nothing came out. Instead, mingi apologized. “I’m sorry, I accidentally caused y/n to knock over the beaker.”

The teacher looked irritated, but sighed in response. “All right, thank goodness it’s only Acetic Acid. Can you both please grab some cleaning materials in the janitor's closet down the hall? I cannot leave the room while administering chemicals.”

You looked up at Mingi, pulling yourself away from his grip awkwardly. You nodded, taking off your goggles before nearly running out of the room, Mingi following suit.

You reached the room, opening the small door as quickly as you could. You didn't know how close Mingi was, and when you felt his breath hit the top of your head, you tripped up, pulling him into the closet with you.

You landed on top of his muscular body, feeling his warmth through your clothes. He let out a grunt right by your ear, creating a mess of dirty thoughts in your mind. You looked down at him, and when you saw that gorgeous, slight smirk on his pretty lips, you swallowed the lump in your throat. His smile was so beautiful—maybe because it was rare.

You were quite literally on top of the Song Mingi.

“Hi,” he mumbled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“....hi,” you peeped out, suddenly aware of your breath and your weight. You didn't even get the chance to get off of him when the door suddenly shut, causing you to jump.

You looked at him one more time, watching his gaze drop to your mouth, before tossing yourself off of him to open the door—but it was locked, and you were stuck, all alone with the one man you thought about more than anyone.

“Is that….is that locked?” Mingi pushed himself up on his palms, looking so delicious it was eating you up from the inside.

You tried to open the door over and over again, and after the millionth time, you sighed. “Yep.”

And then he laughed—a deep, childlike rumble that tickled your brain. You looked at him with wide eyes as he stood up in the small closet, inches away from you. It was dully lit by the lightbulb above, orange hues drowning his strong features. You noticed little specks of gold in his eyes like he was carved by the gods, decorated with glamour. You wanted to reach out and glide a hand down his cheek just to feel his skin. He looked unreal in horrible closet lighting. You wondered what you looked like to him.

“What is it?” his deep voice rumbled, a questioning tone. “Do I…..make you nervous?”

He took a step closer to you, but you did not step back. You tilted your head up more, gazing straight into his intoxicating eyes.

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting the inside of your cheek. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you're attractive,” you admitted with ease, making him smile even more. You felt butterflies from his gaze, knowing that you were the cause of his grin. “You make a lot of people nervous.”

He looked conflicted—his hand twitched at his side, begging to touch you. The amount of chemistry flowing between you now was more than the amount spilled on the linoleum, and you felt the electric shock simmering through your soul.

He sighed, eyes dancing across your features. “You're so…interesting,” he whispered, his hand finally breaking the bone-crushing lack of touch. His fingers delicately glided up your arm, but stayed there. You ached for them to move all over you.

You frowned, wondering what he meant. “In a good way?” you asked him, your voice small.

He didn't answer you—maybe he didn't know, either. Maybe his interest was something his brain could not comprehend, similar to how he captivated you. You were both vastly different—from different worlds. But yet….this feeling between you was undeniable.

His hand met your shoulder now, sending a chill down your spine. Why was he…why was he touching you on his own accord, why was he looking at you like that?

Your chest tightened, his expression unreadable. His breath tickled you, his cologne powerful. You closed your eyes on impulse, taking in this feeling, these senses, this ache in your chest that you have never felt before.

Before Mingi acted on his impulses, the door swung open, and you shoved him against the other wall, turning around quickly.

“There you are. I was wondering if everything was okay,” the teacher huffed, calling you both out of the closet. You couldn't even remember walking back to the classroom, but you vividly remembered the feeling of his hands on you—and wondered about where else those fingers could go.

—

The next few days, Mingi sat with you at your lunch table—which was usually just you or someone else at the end who didn't have anything to do with you. It caused a lot of commotion; his friends were confused at the table across the room, and girls began to chit-chat while glaring.

You didn't mind; it was nothing. People were allowed to look and talk. It doesn't make you any less of a person.

Mingi rested his head on his palm across from you, flipping through his chemistry notebook aggressively. He didn't speak, he just made irritated noises. You smiled at him—probably the only person you ever showed this much emotion to.

“What are you confused about?” you asked him as you took a bite of your lunch, noticing that his tray was completely filled without a single bite taken.

He sighed, looking up at you for a second longer than a friend should've. He blinked, brushing away the hair that covered his eyes, before dropping his gaze back to the textbook.

“I just don't understand any of this,” he mumbled, his tone worrisome. You noticed his feelings more than your own—your heart ached to tell him that it’ll be okay. That he shouldn't worry.

But you weren't anything to him—he just learned your name while you knew his everything.

You leaned forward, hearing the soft breaths leave his lips. You tried your best to read the backward words, succeeding after a long moment.

“Ah, Ionic bonds?” you reiterated, meeting his gaze. He nodded, looking at you instead of his book. You ignored his intense stare. “Do you know the linkage?”

He just stared at you, his eyes twinkling. His expression lacked any sort of emotion, but somehow, you felt as if he was captivated—like an artist appreciating his artwork.

“Anyway,” you forced yourself to continue, holding in all of your questions for him. Why was he looking at you like that? Why did you feel a pull to him, a pull like no other? Like you were made just for him in this universe, similar to those oppositely charged ions being pulled together in electrovalence. You were an Ionic bond, two opposites, an undeniable tug, a match made in chemistry.

“Electrostatic attraction,” you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Despite the room being filled with people, you only saw each other.

He looked down at your hands, which were quite literally fumbling over your chopsticks. “What?”

You cleared your throat, feeling jittery. You never felt jittery. No one made you feel this way—actually, nobody ever made you feel anything. This scared you but interested you more. “When two ions of opposite charges are attracted to each other. It creates an Ionic bond….”

“A bond?” he hummed, his fingers peeling back the textbook page, causing you to look down. You breathed in deep, composing yourself, but the deep ache to have him ruined everything you ever worked for—your beauty has always been your brain, but he made you feel like your outward appearance was also worthy.

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling away from him to sit against the back of the seat. “Kind of like….opposites attract. You know, how people are attracted to those different than them?”

He stared at you, his cold gaze somehow warming you more than summer ever could. He may have looked like winter, but to you, he melted the ice off your stone-cold heart.

You looked at each other then, that chemistry sparking and spilling all over you. His lips were downturned in a frown, but oh, his eyes lit the fire inside your barren soul. The things you wanted to say to him ripped through you, desperate to reach the surface, but you held back as you were happy enough to get his attention.

“Why don't we…..why don't we skip next period?” he spoke, biting his lip slightly. You watched his eyes dance across your face, trying to figure you out.

You never missed a class. You came to school on time. You followed every rule known to man. Everything you did was by the book. But now, oh…..everything you ever knew about yourself seemed to be dwindling over a cliff.

With a short nod, you watched his lips curl slightly, feeling proud that you were the cause once again.

—

It was raining as you both ran through the empty halls, drops dripping down the windows like they were racing to the finish line. His hand brushed against yours, sending a shock through your body. You wondered if he felt it, too.

“Do you have an umbrella?” he asked you as you reached the back door.

You shook your head.

He sighed, contemplating his impulses, you assumed. But you felt in control now, and with a quick motion, you gripped his hand, offering him a questionable look before pushing through the door.

You tumbled through the rain, drenching you as if you were in the ocean. He held onto your hand tightly as if he would drown without you. He let out a laugh, feeling like music to your ears. Without thinking, a smile reached your lips, your cheeks turned red as he pulled you through the rain.

You stopped underneath a small building’s overhead roof, both of you out of breath and soaked to the bone. He looked ethereal—his silver hair now dark like the night sky. His eyelashes were covered in raindrops, delicately taking rest on him. His skin was dewy, his smile brighter than anything you've ever seen before.

You felt the butterflies then—like you were in a movie. However, you haven't seen this film before. The air around you felt serene, the mist of the fallen raindrops splashing all around you. He was close, too close, if that was possible. Your body nearly went into flight or flight at his gaze, his intention. He felt like the rain to you, all around you, soaking into you. You didn't know how to not think of him this way.

“Your face,” he hummed in the small space, your shelter—It was him. “You're dripping wet,” he said, and with a twitch of his hand, his fingers gracefully slid across your cheek, catching the drops in their fall—but he couldn't catch you as you fell.

You swore your soul left your body as he touched you. It was like he was destined to touch you. It may seem silly, especially to your incredibly logical thought process, to be melting under someone’s fingertips. It seemed utterly shameful to your mind that you feel like a puddle as if he was the melting point and you were just….well, mush. It was because of your lack of experience, maybe, that everything he did was heightened.

“Ah,” you fought the urge to lean into his touch. Even after he wiped away the raindrops, his hand still cradled your cheek, his eyebrows knotted in confusion.

So you reached up, pressing your pointer finger between his brows. You eased his thoughts, resting his expression. “Don't do that,” you blinked up at him, watching his eyes widen at your touch. “You look prettier when you smile.”

He fought off his smile, but you still saw it. “Don't say that.”

He did smile after he spoke this time, as if he couldn't hold it away.

When he smiled, you felt like you ruled the world.

“Why?”

His touch felt warm against your cold cheek.

“Because,” his eyes—oh, you loved them. They were so expressive, they made up for his lack of emotion. They spoke a million words, like a window into his hidden soul. “You'll confuse me.”

“I don't mean to confuse you, Mingi.” When you spoke his name, you could've sworn he sucked in a breath. “But think I’m a pretty straightforward person.”

He scoffed slightly, looking at his own hand and how it fit perfectly to your face. “You're so oblivious for someone who’s our valedictorian.”

You blinked quickly, the sound of the rain encapsulating the air around you. You were hyperaware of everything—his breaths, the beauty mark on his cheek, his hand on yours. His height, god, it stirred your guts around in more ways than one.

The moment felt like forever. You stood there, trying to catch your breath, but he kept taking it away. It took you back to the day he saw you in the art studio, how he kept his distance but filled the room with so much care without speaking—he made you feel something no one ever will accomplish.

When you arrived back at the school, you ended up in detention together, huge grins on both of your faces as you sat across from one another. When he smiled, your whole body tingled, and when he looked at you, you became his.

—

As the days move on, the leaves rot on the ground you walk on. You loved October. You belonged to the season. Your soul only lived during the death of summer.

Mingi, once again, followed you like a lost puppy. He sat next to you at lunch, not across from you, and just….sat contently. You both didn't speak. He watched you eat, watched you breathe. If he were anyone else, they would've been six feet down.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked, his body turned to you.

You shrugged, looking over at him. You met his gaze, feeling those shocks once more. “Probably just studying for the chemistry exam.”

He nodded, sniffling. You frowned at him, now tilting yourself to face him. “Are you getting sick?” you asked him, unsure if you looked concerned or irritated.

He let a small smile reach his emotionless lips. “I don't know yet, it may be my allergies.”

You curtly nodded your head, and then you turned back to your food. He held his head up by his hand, staring at you, his eyes conflicted. You tried so hard not to turn towards him and kiss his lips. You weren't too sure how he would take that.

After another couple of moments of silence, he spoke again. “Do you want to come over tonight? To study, of course,” he interjected, which led your dirty, inexperienced mind into a fit of thoughts.

Were his parents going to be home? What was he planning on doing to you? Did he…did he have an ulterior motive?

Mingi broke you out of your thoughts. “I mean, if you don't feel comfortable, we can meet somewhere else—”

“No,” you cleared your throat, gripping your chopsticks tighter. “I mean, I would love to come over.”

His eyes twinkled as you met them, like shooting stars falling from the sky. He probably didn't realize that they did it, as his face didn't show any other hint of excitement.

“Okay, nice,” he said blandly, but once again, his eyes said otherwise. You dared to smile, causing him to smile back.

The sunlight danced across his honey skin through the blinds, and you just sat there, admiring him, dreaming about not-so-PG thoughts.

—

Later on in the evening, you stood in your best efforts of an “effortless” look, anxiously looking at Mingi’s monstrous home. You assumed he was rich, but not this rich.

The home was glorious, a mansion, if you will. You couldn't even count the windows before you started to feel the pit of your stomach growing bigger and bigger. You swallowed hard, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before pushing past the gates of the entrance.

It took you a solid minute to knock on his door, which was probably bigger than your room alone. He took a while to answer, causing you even more anxiety. What if a goddamn maid opened the door? God, you'd book it so far that he’d never find you again—

“Y/n,” he hummed breathlessly as he opened the door, his hair dripping wet and his whole torso completely unclothed. Your eyes traveled without permission, noticing the droplets of water that dared to drip down his defined abs….down onto the edge of the towel that just barely covered his hips. You held back your animalistic cravings as you noticed his v-line, swallowing hard. “You’re early.”

You did not move your gaze—you continued to eyeball him without shame. He didn't seem to mind. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Should I leave?” you blinked, eyes rolling up from below to his gaze. He almost looked embarrassed, but there was something sinister in his emotional eyes.

He paused, noticing how you were looking at him. He swallowed hard, too, opening the door wider to let you in. “No…just….come in. Let me go put…..clothes on.”

You nearly smiled at his embarrassment. You followed him in, in awe of his broad shoulders and smooth skin, to the curve of his sides. You felt like an animal in heat.

You looked around the home, feeling….empty. There were no pictures on the walls, no mirrors. Not an ounce of an existence of family, or color, or comfort. It was cold—Void of emotion.

You sat on the couch in one of the living rooms, the ceilings a million feet high. The TV rested on the wall in front of you, bigger than your home. You didn't see anyone, or hear anyone other than Mingi. It felt lonely—yet you were only there for a minute or two.

When he came back into the room, fully dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweats, you wondered how on earth that shirt drowned him. Maybe if you put it on, it would probably end below your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” he let out a small anxious chuckle. He stood in front of you, causing you to strain your neck and look up at him. “Should we study here or….?”

Some part of you wished that you weren't here to study. It was something about the feeling between you….it was burning red, fiery, and you craved to dive into its flames.

“It doesn't matter,” you shrugged. “Wherever you want, really.”

His presence is intoxicating. Your mind wanders to his gentle expression, to the water dripping down his head, and you begin to question your sanity. The range of emotions you feel for him was alarming—especially for you.

You follow him into the kitchen and set your bag down on the island. He stands and stares, similarly to how you were observing him earlier.

As you tried to tutor him about chemicals and such, you looked up at him occasionally, only to find him looking at you.

“What?” you asked him softly, meeting his gaze. “Is there something you're confused about?”

He stared at you intently, his lips downturned. “Yes,” he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is it? Is it about—”

“You,” he blinked, fiddling with his fingers. “I…you confuse me.”

Your eyes widened, your stomach tightening at his words. “How do I confuse you?”

“You just…” he sighed, setting down his pencil. “I never know what you're thinking, I guess.”

“Ditto,” you shrugged, keeping the eye-contact.

Silence. You just stared at each other, almost desperately, as you tried to understand what exactly was burning between you.

He sighed, breaking the eye contact by looking down at his textbook. “Let’s just….” he swallowed hard, shutting his book with a forced smile. “Let’s study another time. How about we watch a movie?”

You met his gaze, feeling the air burn around you. His expression was indescribable—something you've never encountered before. You nodded, nonetheless, and when he stood up abruptly, you followed him like a lost puppy through his house, which was far from a home.

“Why are you alone?” you asked from behind, watching his large body move with such grace.

He didn't look back as he responded. “My parents live in Seoul,” he hummed. “I’ve been alone.”

You felt a chill roll down your spine as his cold words echoed through you. He seemed to have bad blood with them, whoever they are, and your flighty personality has you wanting to seek them out to tell them how horrible it is to leave their child behind.

As you walked into the vast, empty living room, you stopped in your tracks.

“It must be lonely,” you murmured, to which he paused for a second.

He let out a small laugh—a forced laugh—like he needed to pretend to be okay. You wished for the day he didn't need to pretend.

He sat down on the sectional, his long legs sprawling out. You looked at him before sitting down next to him, a reasonable distance away. He looked over at you, his eyes conflicted.

“What…. what's your favorite kind of movie?” He asked you.

You hesitated. You were concerned about what he would think about your opinion.

“Horror,” you admitted, watching his eyes widen.

“Horror?” he reiterated, his expression grim.

It was almost too cute. You nearly blushed.

You smirked, sliding in a bit closer to him. “What? Are you scared? I thought you were a big, tough guy.”

“..fine, ahem,” he cleared his throat, running a hand through that silvery hair of his. “I’ll put a horror movie on….since you like them.”

As the movie played, you sat next to each other, still a suffocating amount of space between you. You looked over at him, his expression wary, his hands balled up as if he were terrified.

You scooted over closer to him, hearing his breath hitch. You weren't sure if it was because of you moving closer or because of the jumpscare on the TV. you leaned in slightly, whispering into his ear. “Are you scared, Mingi?” you giggled, causing him to jump.

“Fuck, he hissed, his eyes frazzled. He quickly tried to calm himself down, and he put a silly little smile on his face. “No, I just don't like getting jump scared, is all.”

You smiled at him, the distance now only inches. You watched how his Adam’s apple bobbed anxiously as the space between you two shrank and how his eyes lingered on your lips. You wanted him to reach out and press them to yours, like how it almost happened in the supply closet. You wanted to feel everything he could make you feel—more than you already felt.

As the movie went on, the loud, atrocious noises filled the space, but all you saw was him. The room was dark, and his features were highlighted by the small source of light coming from the television. You watched his eyes glimmer through the darkness as they landed on you, and you heard his breaths quicken.

And in that moment, you had enough.

You slowly reached out to him, your fingertips meeting the softness of his cheek. He frowned in confusion, but his eyes spoke more words than he’d ever said before.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“I….” you swallowed hard, bringing up your other hand to cradle his face gently. “I just want to feel something. I….I want you to feel it, too.”

Your eyes meet his lips; his eyes do the same. You've never been this close to anyone….and he felt just right. Everything about him caused you to ache. To ache for his touch, his attention. You craved every part of him, even before he knew your name.

He shined in the sunlight, even when it rained.

And with that look in his eye—that deep, desired look—you slowly pressed your lips to his unmoving ones, and after a moment, he kissed back with such passion you could swear you saw stars.

His hands held the back of your head, his lips parting yours. He let out a shaky breath as you kissed, and your hands trailed down to his chest. Something about this sparked something inside you, ignited a flame that was destined to burn for a lifetime. He parted your lips open, his tongue infiltrating your mouth smoothly. You let out a moan, causing him to deepen the simple kiss into something much more…sinister.

“Do you feel something now?” he hummed against your lips desperately. His hands gripped your jaw, the tips of his fingers tangling into the hairs at the base of your ears. “Please tell me that I make you feel something.”

“You do,” you mumbled breathlessly, your hand gliding up his cheek. He leaned into your touch as if he were deprived of it. Maybe he was. Maybe he wanted to kiss you like this for a while, to touch you like this for a while. Maybe, just like you, he ached to feel something, too. “God, Mingi, only you can make me feel this way.”

You looked at each other in between kisses. His eyes were lustful, yet, they looked like they could tear up any moment. You didn't know what you looked like to him, so you leaned in again, delicately pressing your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you more and more and more.

He pulled back ever so slowly; his eyebrows knit together, his brown irises dead center on your eyes. He spoke a million words without ever opening his mouth or even parting his lips. You smiled at him, feeling more like yourself than you've ever felt before.

He lit up your soul.

His eyes asked you kindly. You agreed with a soft nod, and then he whisked you away into bliss.

He carried you with grace through the dark hall, dropping you on his bed. Your back hits the cold duvet, sending chills down your spine. For a moment, he just gazes down at you, the only source of light being the floor lamp in the corner of the room. His expression was one you understood for once—he was full of emotion, and he made you feel safe.

He sucked in a breath, and you watched intently as he lifted his shirt slowly over his head. He was nervous—obviously nervous, and you wondered why such a big, strong, stone-like man would be scared of something like this. You were confident he’d done this before—he had to have.

“I won't bite you,” you breathed, looking up at him with your soulful eyes. However, your innocence only went so far here. You've been watching him for ages, trying not to feel this…whatever this was. A mix of love, lust, longing, belonging….and he finally saw you.

You were going to eat him up if he let you, of course.

He let out a shaky laugh, standing there so delicately powerful. His muscles rose and fell in the shadows of the dark, his skin looking ever so soft. You sat up on the bed, reaching out to him. You gripped his waistband, pulling him into you. He breathed in as your fingertips touched the bare skin of his waist, and he held his breath as you pushed past that waistband….down his underwear, to find…

Holy fucking shit.

That’s literally going to obliterate your insides.

You must've looked shocked because he suddenly pulled himself away from you. “W-what? Is something wrong?”

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. You couldn't help but let out a laugh, to which he looked even more confused.

He looked distressed, so you stood up from the bed and walked up to him. He towered over you more than you've ever realized. You stood there in front of him for a moment that seemed to last forever, his eyes frantically searching for your explanation.

“Is something wrong with it—”

“Mingi,” you breathed, basically moaned, his name as you fiddled at the hem of your shirt. He watched your hand, gulping. “You may just kill me with that.”

You flung your shirt across the room, and your hands then danced at your waist to undo your pants.

He frowned, confused. “Kill you? How—”

Your pants dropped to the ground, and you kicked them aside. You were left in your underwear—a pretty pink set you've kept in your drawer for ages for a moment like this. You completely got him starstruck.

You watched his mouth part as he stared at your body. “What…uh,” he swallowed hard, running a hand through his hair. “I…” You stepped closer to him, gliding your hand to hold his cheek; he shut his eyes and leaned into your touch, taking a deep breath.

You leaned forward, on the tips of your toes. “Are you going to take the rest off, or am I gonna have to do it for you, scaredy cat?” you teased, pressing a kiss to his neck. He shivered, his hands instinctively gripping onto your hips.

His eyes were lustful, his gaze ripping right through you like a knife would tear a heart. It was as if you offended him, and he grit his teeth as he slid your bra right over your head with one hand.

You smirked, your hands running up the sides of his face to run through his gorgeous hair. You found pleasure in his reactions—the way he savored his feelings as he closed his eyes.

“Is this your first time?” he whispered weakly as your lips found a home under his jaw. “Because I have a feeling it isn't—”

“And if it is?” you interrupted him, still creating your mark on his neck. “Will you not fuck me?”

“Oh, dear god,” he huffed, letting out a groan. He shoved you onto the bed, your back once again hitting the covers. This time, it felt even colder. “Where the hell did you get that mouth of yours?”

You tried to breathe, but you no longer remembered how to. “Why, do you not like it?”

He didn't answer you with words. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, his hard-on begging to break through his underwear. You laid there, your breasts on full display for him, and your stomach tightened as you saw his dick after he took everything off.

“Oh….” you gulped, raising your eyebrows in hopes that he didn't see your worry. You've never had sex, only with your own fingers, and as you looked down at his massive cock, there was no way in hell that was fitting inside you.

In fact, it turned you on just thinking about how…big he was. How he stood with confidence, turning red, his body physically showing his attraction to you, blood pumping, sweat pooling to the surface of his skin.

His size….you've always been obsessed with his size—it surrounded your every thought. This was the cherry on top of your fantasies.

He knelt over you, his body warmth making you even hotter. You felt his erection press against your thigh, and you shamelessly moaned, meeting his flaming gaze.

“By kill, I mean,” you breathed in, pausing. “I mean, that dick of yours is like a goddamn weapon.”

His face was right over yours, and you watched a sinister smile fill his features. “Is that so?” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss your lips. You moaned into the kiss, biting his bottom lip as he pulled back.

“Mhm,” you whimpered as his dick pressed against your panties, and you ached for him to take them off. He was too captivated by your breasts to even think about the fact that they were still on. You looked down at his hands, and oh, they just completely encapsulated you, mind and body, body and soul. You wished for him to suck the living life out of you, to choke you until you saw whatever was beyond this life, if there was anything. His hands alone caused you to daydream about them bringing death to you and being pleasured by the hands of death. They were so large, so soft, so gentle. You wanted him to manhandle you, to tear you apart, to rip your heart in two and then sew it back together. Your mind was just rambling on now, but one thing was for sure.

You were in love with him.

“Mingi,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around his arm that worshiped your breasts. His eyes met yours, madly, desperately. “Take every part of me.”

He wasn't sure how to respond, and you knew it. He did, however, understand your request, and he kissed you from your breastbone to the mounds of skin, down your stomach, finally reaching where he needed to be. He kissed you there, right there, and you felt his hot breath radiate through the thin fabric. It was gone before you knew it, and he lined himself up on top of you, his chest heaving from breathlessness and desire.

His silvery-grey hair nearly looked black in the moonlight, shining smoothly. He made you happy, everything about him.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke against your lips, the tip of his dick pressing against your entrance. You closed your eyes tightly as his thick cock slid into you.

“I like the pain,” you said.

Your eyes watered, but the sound of his pleasure made everything better. Truthfully, you discovered something about yourself that you never knew. You loved that he was big. You loved how his cock still had length outside of you, even as he stuck himself fully in. You watched as he moved in, moved out, how his hips bucked against yours, and how he held you underneath him, tenderly, like he was afraid to shatter you like glass. You were his throne, his home, and he was your everything.

“Ah,” you hissed; this never felt before feeling tingling your insides, your stomach filling up with his length. You gripped onto his shoulder blades, tearing into his skin as he sped up. He seemed to like how you inflicted pain, and you continued to pierce his skin, carving your mark like writing initials into tree bark.

It was bliss, your first time. The feeling of him pumping into you was addictive—you were sure you were going to want this every day for the rest of your life. You arched your back into him, wrapping your legs around him as you felt yourself reach your climax. You've never felt one before, and it was intoxicating. His breaths quickened along with his movements, and his hips rocked back and forth slightly, hitting new spots for your body to learn. He was your tutor, your teacher. Your daydream and your nightmare. You revolved around him as if he were your sun and you were his moon.

His expression changed as he looked at you—eye contact and all. You've never felt so intimate with someone your entire life, and strangely enough, despite your usual ignorance of emotions, you wanted to bask in this feeling forever. To gaze into his eyes forever. Maybe it was your youth; maybe it was your first life.

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, his face contorted in pleasure. His tone of voice sent ripples through your body—it was deep, raspy. It rumbled through you, all around you. You loved his voice. You loved it so much that you wanted him to speak more and more and more.

“Say that again,” you moaned, sweat dripping down your temple as the top of your head hit the headboard. “Please.”

“You,” he breathed, lifting one of your legs up to burrow in you deeper— as if it were possible with the size of his dick. He hit a new spot, causing you to toss in his embrace, begging for more. “...You are beautiful.”

“God fuck, Mingi,” you quite literally snarled, gripping his shoulders to switch positions, you now sitting right on top of him. You looked down on him, finding gratification in his sexily fatigued expression. His eyes were barely open, his chest heaving, his hands gripping the sheets. “I love the sound of your fucking voice.”

And with that, you began to ride him, watching his features twist with such interesting emotions you've never seen before. When he began to breathe quicker and quicker, you watched how his eyes widened, how his big, veiny but gentle hands came up to fist your hair. You cried out, eyes watering, pain sparking down your neck—but you loved it.

He grabbed you by the hair and shoved you onto your stomach, face full of pillow and the sweet smell of Mingi’s hair wash. You closed your eyes as he re-entered you, his hands putting pressure on the small of your back.

And as he let out a deep, bone-crushing moan, you squeezed your thighs together tightly. He pulled out quickly, and came on your back, painting himself all over you.

The only sound through the silence was the huffing of your breaths, your face flushed, hidden from him. He let out a slight, rumbly laugh—music to your ears.

“I’ll go grab a towel,” he spoke softly, his fingertips dancing down the side of your waist as if he were appreciating your structure.

He cleaned you up with such softness as if this weren't the man that was just fisting your hair and slamming his dick into you. You lay in his bed, naked, your stomach aching, your legs weak.

He laid next to you, his shower he had just taken before this turned utterly pointless, his body covered in sweat. His hair stuck to his forehead, and you reached out, brushing it up. You smiled at him as he stared at you with fascination.

And then, in the comfort of his embrace, you fell asleep, dreaming of him.

—

When you awoke in the morning, he was no longer there.

Your youthful mind didn't jump to conclusions—you slowly rolled out of his California king and picked up his huge t-shirt, tossing it on without anything else. It drowned you, down to your knees like you expected, and you giggled in bliss. It smelled like him.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you saw a cup of steaming coffee on the island. Mingi was facing away from you, the back of his head messy, silver hair standing up everywhere.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He quickly turned around, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

You felt the rush of blood reach the tips of your ears.

He inspected your outfit—or his outfit—and that goofy smile widened even more. “My shirt, huh?”

You wrapped your arms around your body. “It was the first thing I picked up.”

“I like it,” he smirked, walking over to you, his arms taking the place of yours. “I love it, actually.”

You embraced him, feeling finally happy. “You're a lot more colorful than usual,” you acknowledged, feeling his heartbeat through his chest.

“You must've painted me in a new light,” he hummed, resting his head on the top of yours.

You tried to escape his embrace, but he tightened it, shaking his head. “You're not leaving me.”

You giggled, trying to playfully push him away. “Mingi, what time is it?”

He paused. “Uh….”

You pulled back, looking into his eyes. Your own eyes widened.

“School, oh my god, we forgot about school!”

—

You held Mingi’s large hand as you sprinted down the road to your school. After a pit stop at your home for your uniform and a blissful moment of a makeout outside the door, you barreled as fast as you could, knowing you were gonna get punished. Even so, you laughed the whole way, and when your tardiness landed you in detention, you couldn't of been happier to end up in a room with Mingi.

The teacher left the room for a moment, and as the door shut, Mingi launched out of his seat and attacked you with his lips, his hands in your hair, his teeth clashing with yours as he smiled as wide as ever.

The next day, you watched him sit in the sunlight in homeroom, noticing his hair shine—the same head of hair you ran through as he made love to you a few nights before.

He liked sitting by windows. It brought a curl to your lips, as his dreary-looking ass always was lit up by the sunlight.

He was the moon during the day, right before the sun sets. And you, well, you were finally a star in his almost-night sky.

—

Winter break was approaching. Students were talking. You didn't care, and neither did he. In fact, he made it painfully obvious, sitting next to you with every chance he got, touching you as much as he could, smiling so wide it was unlike his usual persona.

The question dwindled over your head. Many people asked you, talked to you, and inquired about your relationship with him. You didn't exactly know what to tell them—you never actually labeled whatever this was. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to you, as it just mattered that you were blissfully happy for however long it may last. You were going to enjoy this time you had with him, knowing that college was approaching.

“Y/n!” a loud voice boomed through the study hall class, a few students turning their heads in confusion. You met eyes with Yunho, one of Mingi’s best friends. You frowned, confused as to why he was calling for you. There was no teacher as the class didn't start yet, so you weren't too alarmed.

“What?” you asked him.

He took a sharp breath in, hands on his knees like he ran a marathon. “It’s Mingi—he got hurt on his way to school—”

You stood up quickly, eyes wide. “What? Where is he?”

“In the nurses—”

You didn't even give him a chance to finish his sentence. You ran down the hall, even though class was about to start.

You let out a loud breath when you reached the nurse’s office. “Mingi? Are you okay—”

With a tight grip on your wrist, he tugged you into the office, slamming the door behind you.

He stood there, perfectly fine, with a boyish smile on his face.

You hit his chest. “What the hell? I thought you were hurt?”

He giggled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “Mmh. No, I just wanted to do this.” he kissed you again, his hands tilting your chin up with such tenderness.

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You're such a sneak.”

“Do you want me to kiss you in front of everyone?” he teased, pecking your nose and then your lips. “Because I will.”

You chuckled, kissing him more. “It’ll probably clear up all the rumors about us,” you shrugged, ruffling his hair as you kissed him again.

“People are so nosy,” he mumbled. “Can't two people date in peace?”

You pulled back in his embrace, a glimmer of mischief in your gaze. “Oh?” you tilted your head, and as he went in for another kiss, you pressed a finger to his lips. “Were dating, huh?”

He blinked as if you said something completely insane. “Huh?” he furrowed his brows. “Haven't we been dating?”

You smirked, teasing him. “Since when?”

He scoffed, but still held onto you. “Uh, since I literally fucked the living shit out of you?”

You laughed at his vulgarity, pressing your lips to his in a long, sensual kiss. “So were dating now?”

“I thought you knew that.”

“How would I know that if you never said it?”

“Because you're the fucking valedictorian, y/n.”

You stared at his confused face, smiling wider than you've ever smiled. “Okay,” you nodded, watching his eyes sparkle down at you. “Boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” he giggled like a child, grabbing both your cheeks and kissing you over and over again. “My girlfriend.”

You never saw yourself as cheesy and didn't see him as the cheesy kind, either. But there you were, in each other's arms in the run-down, empty nurses office, blissfully unaware of how the future will work out for you. But now was the time, not then, not when. It was now, and now you loved him.

You were his tutor, his happiness, his light, even if you never thought you could ever brighten up someone’s life.

It was this moment— you declared that you were utterly, irrevocably in love with him. He was all you thought about, all you noticed.

The future isn't guaranteed, but you both will live on, together maybe, who knows? You were young and in love, but who says it won't work? Your hearts will live for each other, whatever the future brings you.

He was the daydream to your nightmare.

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi fanfic #high school au #strangers to lovers

513 notes · View notes

buckrecs · 1 year

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ur account is my absolute go to!!! any chance u could rec biker!bucky fics 🥺🥺🥺

Biker!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Wanted by @jadedvibes

You consider ending things with Bucky after seeing a girl come on to him, but it's not that easy, and you get a hard reminder about who he really wants in the clubhouse bathroom.

Best Friends? Nah. by @wicked-mind

Classic best friends don’t realize feelings for each other until someone points it out.

Business as Usual by @world-of-aus

Not My Babe by @avecra

After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation.

rough around the edges by @wndalovebot

Let Me Love You Old School by @mysecretlittlelibrary

Bucky meets you at a diner and plans to sweep you completely off your feet.

The Bogeyman and Other Monstrosities by @pellucid-constellations

As the local biker club president, Bucky Barnes had a reputation for being tougher than nails and feared by many—he’d never be caught dead at a halloween street fair. Too bad his best girl always got what she wanted.

Waiting Game by @buckychrist

You knew being associated with one of the most notorious and dangerous biker gangs in the city was bad, let alone scandalously dating their kingpin in secret, but you never thought you’d have to face those consequences. Until now.

Home by @all1e23

Bucky runs into his ex at a winter carnival the MC is helping host, but she didn’t come alone.

Whatever It Takes by @sgtjbuccky

Bucky Barnes knows the way to drive you up the wall in frustration, fed up with it, you show him that you know how to play just the same.

deny me by @drewbarymore

In which you feel like Bucky’s ashamed of you.

Drunk, Dumped and Empty by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

After a nasty breakup, you go out drinking. After an absolute creep hits on you, you’re saved from a concussion by a mysterious, kind man, who reveals himself to be Bucky Barnes. The bar you’re in is a bit suspect, but you never expected him to be head of a biker gang.

yayo by @sergeantxrogers

“I need you safe. I need you here, and I need you safe, and I need, God please, I need you to let me in, baby, just let me in and I promise I’ll make it all better,” his broken voice pleaded through the door.

Drabble by @fandoms-writings

Biker!Bucky x tattooed!reader

hot and cold by @bucksfucks

you & bucky had never gotten along, but when your ex-boyfriend ransom turns up at the same bar you’re at, bucky goes to every length to protect you.

How To Get Away With Murder by @empyreanwritings

Bucky was always good at helping you clean up your messes, which is why he doesn't bat an eye when you show up on his doorstep covered in your abusive boyfriend's blood.

Hush by @buckysknifecollection

Bucky finds a stray kitten but he doesn’t know anything about cats. A friendly librarian helps him out.

little favors by @onceuponastory

Since Bucky saved her from her shitty boss, Y/N hasn’t seen him again. For a while, she gets closer and closer to giving up hope. Until he comes back. And this time, he’s asking for her help.

SERIES

Swallow by @all1e23

Since he was fifteen years old, Bucky Barnes has only been sure of two things; the club should be the most essential thing in his life, and he’d burn it all down for you.

Delicate Edges by @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

For The Best by @metalbuckaroo

Bucky is tired of waiting for you to realize what you're doing. He does the only thing he can think of to break the cycle.

White Horses by @whitewolfbumble

Kicked out of school and exiling yourself in a town time forgot, one little incident lands the sights of the locally infamous Avengers biker gang square on you. Wild horses run faster and there was no chance to turn back now.

Howlin’ For You by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

When Y/N gets an unreal deal on her first home, she wonders why her neighbor scared away all the other buyers. Despite being cautious, she wonders why the town has given Bucky Barnes a bad name.

Brotherhood & Bullets by @rookthorne

The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you'd become the President's own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.

Stars & Stripes, Studs & Spikes by @buckyismybicycle

The crew has always been tight, but you and Bucky are best of friends. When Bucky sees Brock's mark on you, he nearly loses it and wants to end Brock for good. But, there's something more important - keeping you safe.

call me baby by @cherryrogers

Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.

Masterlist by @angrythingstarlight

Masterlist by @metalbuckaroo

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #biker!bucky #bucky barnes modern au #biker!bucky x reader #bff!bucky #best friend!bucky #bucky x florist!reader #neighbor!bucky

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 month

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Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)

let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty

warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own

a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3

Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned.

He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered.

"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.

"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you.

"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.

"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.

Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.

Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.

"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin - something ruined touching something holy.

"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.

"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.

When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb.

It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.

"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.

"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."

"But you did steal it, didn't you?'

"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.

"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."

"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."

Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.

"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.

"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.

"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.

"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his.

There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.

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prodbymaui · 1 year

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Chasing Stars, Losing You

I'll be damned, cupid's demanding back his arrow

PAIRING: jung jaehyun x reader

GENRE: exes to lovers, slow burn, angst, slice of life, fluff, eventual smut, ceo!jaehyun (yes, we love him), model!reader, mentions of Taeyong, Yuta, Mark and Johnny

WORD COUNT: 14k+ words

WARNINGS: mentions of eating disorder, smoking, usage of drugs, self-harming, toxic relationship (?)

SYPNOSIS: When your relationship got announced, it made noises louder that anyone could've imagined. Of course it will, a pair containing a supermodel and a CEO of one of the most successful enterprise that made a name in both the fashion and business industry. But soon enough, everyone witnessed how the perfect relationship they had been envying crumbled down into tiny pieces until there's nothing left to pick up.

TAGS: @lovingvoidgoatee @jaessunflower214 @fluffyjaes @hopefulchick @clblnz @jaehyunsprincess @haebragi @lorenakaspersen @joepomonerof @sadstuffonthestreet @carelessshootanonymous-blog @iraa567 @ethelia

A/N: aaaand it's finally out! it took me forever to finish this fic as this was the longest one I've written after taking a break from writing so bare with me if some scenes seemed to be missing something. and also, this isn't beta read so excuse the grammatical errors, typos and such. anyways, enjoy reading! like and reblogs with comments are highly appreciated! <3

Walking on soft clouds, that's what you felt every second you were with Jung Jaehyun.

The industry itself had told you to fuck off and go back to little hole you used to hide at. Stomping over you and shouting you shits to make you realize that you're not fucking worthy of everything they had to offer. The modelling industry, despite you being a supermodel, had broke you into pieces more than one could've ever imagined.

But Jaehyun was there to fix you up, every damn time it happened. Jaehyun who was always there to gather you in his loving arms, whispering praises and assurance. Jaehyun who showered you with nothing but affection. Jaehyun who made you a hot chocolate with snow man marshmallows even though it's summer because he knew it was your favorite.

Jaehyun who cancelled an important meeting with a client because you called him, expressing how much you wanted to watch this movie and that day was your only free time. Jaehyun who, despite having a tight schedule, managed to come to all of your fashion shows to support you. Jaehyun who displayed your magazines in his office proudly.

Everytime he's beside you, everyone disappears together with your worries about the world. With all those giggles, cuddles and just overall having him around-- you couldn't ask for more. Jung Jaehyun was the man that you decided you wanted to be with for the rest of your life.

Jaehyun was your own heart.

Your relationship consisted of right balance of public and private. You don't reveal as much on your social medias but also didn't deprived everyone on getting a glimpse of your life. Any special events that happened, they already expected either of you to post a picture of the other.

Jaehyun and you made sure that you still have the privacy you should own while also happily sharing moments with the fans. It was a decision made by the both of you.

Though it was hard to attain a free time, you two always made sure spend it to the fullest. Not by travelling from country to country, no. You spent it by being in each other's arms, feeling the warmth of one another. Bonding over watching movies or cooking together. Because for you, having the other around was enough.

Your manager even suggested that you should make a youtube channel and upload your vlogs with Jaehyun. She was so sure that everyone would be more than happy to see those videos. You shrugged and said that you'll ask Jaehyun about it.

He agreed, actually. And your first vlog was about one of your cooking slash baking chronicles. Jaehyun, much to everyone's surprise, was very good at baking while you, at the other hand, enjoyed watching him and tasting his products.

''How's the mixing going, chef?'' You giggled beside him, pointing the camera at his handsome face. Blush was evident on his cheeks, still not used to having someone take a video of him if not for business purposes.

''Hey, you have to answer my question,'' You poked his crimson cheeks and squished it with one hand lightly.

Jaehyun smiled, ''It's going fine, they're going smooth now.''

Satisfied, you diverted the camera to the mixing bowl in front of your boyfriend. It didn't took him long before finishing it up and moving to the next part which was chilling the dough.

You propped the lenses so it could face both of you and looked at Jaehyun through the screen. ''So, what're we gonna do while waiting for the dough to rise?'' You asked him with a raise of an eyebrow.

''Stare at it 'til it's done,'' Jaehyun replied with a small snicker. You jokingly shook your head and sighed in disbelief of his humor, in which he whined at. He circled his arms around your waist and buried his face on your neck, muttering something about you now have to give him kisses because you hurt his feelings.

You only chuckled at him, ''Fine, I'll give you kisses later.''

You figured that you'll just put a timelapse of you and Jaehyun watching a movie as you waited for the dough to rise. When the time came, you decided to offer rolling down the dough and shaping it to the shapes you like. It varies from simple circles to stars and clouds. After doing so, you popped to the oven and before you knew it, you and Jaehyun were already packing it to share to your friends and kids at the orphanage.

Arriving at the orphanage, you were met by kids rushing towards the both of you as if you were parents who came from work. ''Oh! careful there, Taehee,'' You softly reminded the little girl, catching her just in time.

Jaehyun sat at the floor and you settled beside him, you don't want to risk breaking the little chairs trying to fit your grown asses to them. ''Mister Jaehyun, what is that?'' The 4 year old boy, looked at the packet with shining eyes.

''This is a cookie, Taeho. You told me last time that you like them right?'' Jaehyun smiled widely with his eyes that only a fool could say that it wasn't genuine. Taeho gasped and fell to the floor dramatically, a hand over his mouth as he processed what Jaehyun said before.

''Hey, everyone, listen! Mister Jaehyun brought us cookies!'' Taeho shouted in excitement, jumping up and down. The children went from being scattered around the room to running towards Jaehyun, tackling him to a hug. Some were even kissing his face to express gratitude.

''I brought cookies too,'' You pouted at the lack of attention given, raising your little packets as well to show them. Taehee and some of the others ran to you, ''Don't be sad, I'll try yours!'' Taehee grinned at you while reaching to the cookies.

The staffs wanted to take a picture and video of both of you to show the world how genuine and kind you were to the kids. But refrained themselves because they knew you weren't doing this for publicity. So they just enjoyed watching you taking care of them, giving each child the same attention.

''Wow, who's that beautiful princess I am seeing?'' Jaehyun exaggeratedly said, rubbing his eyes with his fists to take 'double-look' to Taehee who was twirling around in front of him with a crown on her head. ''You look so pretty, Taehee!'' He complimented, even clapping his hands as if he just finished watching some high-quality theater show.

You snorted at Jaehyun's actions, finding it cute how he tried so hard to praise Taehee in every possible way. Your heart was warm watching the interactions exchanged between them. Admit or not, you had imagine how Jaehyun would be such a good father to your own children.

Snapping out of your little bubble, you turned around when you felt a little tap on your shoulder. Taeho was standing behind you, holding a piece of paper. ''Hey, what's that, buddy?'' You pointed at the bond paper in his hands. He sat on your lap and showed you a drawing, one look from it and you could tell it's a vision of a 'perfect' family.

At first, you though Taeho drew what seemed to be his desire. His want to meet his parents again and be with them. But you were wrong. Taeho took a few inhales and exhales, catching his breath.

He first pointed at the two kids, ''This is me and Taehee,'' You nodded at the mention of his twin. ''This is Mister Jaehyun,'' His finger moved to the male adult. ''And this is you!'' Lastly, at the female adult. ''I drew us!'' Taeho cheered happily.

You paused for a moment before grinning widely, ''Oh that's so cool, Taeho! You did so great!''

''Our teacher at school told us to drew our family but I don't have mommy and daddy so I drew you and Mister Jaehyun,'' He explained. You told him how you were thankful that he considered you as a family and complimented his drawing, telling him he have a future for it.

The visit ended with you bringing home the precious masterpiece of Taeho and a kiss from all the kids. It was already night when you and Jaehyun reached your apartment. Once you finished showering, Jaehyun came next.

''I saved some cookies for you at the fridge,'' Jaehyun muttered, giving you a sweet kiss before entering the shower. You only hummed at him. Minutes went by and Jaehyun went on his way to get his pajamas at the living room inside his small luggage-- getting a peak of the kitchen.

And when Jaehyun saw you throwing out the cookies he made, he said nothing.

Weeks had past by, fashion week were coming quicker that you had expected. You're booked to the brim and that was what Jaehyun was worrying about. You rarely responded to his texts, not answering his calls most of the time. He couldn't even get the chance to visit you himself as he's busy as well so he made sure to send flowers and letters everyday to your apartment.

''Oh lord, you're gaining weight, dear,'' The designer, seemingly horrified, whispered to your ears as he stared at you through the mirror, tightening the laces of your top with a struggle. You pursed your lips, of course you noticed this as well. It was the lack of exercise, you thought.

The fitting had come to an end with a sound of disappointed 'tsk's was heard from the designer beside you, a few shakes of his head and a sigh. You remained standing in front of your reflection, staring and observing your body. The man came up to your side again, holding your shoulders and smiled softly.

''Listen, dear. You already look pretty, angelic even,'' That pricked out a single thorn of your throat but what he said next poured a ton of thorns right after the relief. ''But you would suit my designs more-- no, you would be more beautiful if you lose weight. Remember what I told you before? Beauty equals to skinny. You're not beautiful if you're not skin and bones.''

And you agreed. Models who doesn't have their ribs showing through their skin have no place in the fashion industry. The clothes wouldn't hang pretty on you if there were fat getting on the way. He was right. You should lose weight.

Travelling around the city, going from places to another. It was safe to say that you were emotionally and physically tired. Even with all of those you still have to keep a good physical appearance for the paparazzis who were hungry for a snap of you at any given time.

You were done for the day and could finally sleep in your own apartment instead of sleeping on a mattress and sharing a hotel room with your manager. Sighing, you took off your shoes and hang your coat behind the door. Making your way to the kitchen to grab some water.

What surprised you was being met by the back of a man, cooking at your kitchen while humming and whistling to the music being played. You knew that back so well. ''Jae?'' You murmured under your breath but he turned around any way, with that smile of his that you love so much.

''Surprise?'' Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow, smirking at you for a second before placing down the pan at the table, which you didn't noticed was already set. ''Have a seat,'' He gestured and you did.

Seeing all the foods that he prepared, you appreciate it, truly. But you can't deny the nervousness bubbling up inside you, all those comments from countless designers and other models flashing your mind. You gulped as you remembered what they said,

''Lose some weight, will you?''

''You're getting fat, dear.''

''Skin and bones are the only acceptable thing here.''

''Fashion show or laying in your bed with all those fats inside of you?''

''God, you look awful!''

Not being able to take those thoughts anymore, you pushed the plate off the table-- the one Jaehyun was serving you his food. The plate shattered on the floor as your hands shook violently, heavy breaths to accompany your shaky eyes.

Jaehyun rushed to your side, hugging you and whispering comforting things at you like he always did. He caressed your hair while continuously planting kisses on your head, hugging you even tighter. He wanted you to feel nothing but absolute protection in his arms.

A few minutes passed and you still haven't calmed down yet. Jaehyun didn't know what else to do as you haven't panicked this long before. As you tried to control your breath, you felt something coming up to your throat when your eyes glanced at the food in front of you.

Thrashing in Jaehyun's embrace, you ran to the bathroom and threw up whatever you can. It wasn't long when you felt Jaehyun holding up your hair, helping you.

You thought about nothing but the fear of eating the food that has so many calories. Fear of gaining weight and losing validation in your field of work.

The next time you saw Jaehyun was when you came home from visiting another brand, preparing for the nearing show. ''Hi, love,'' Jaehyun greeted you with a hug, ready to smell the scent of vanilla on you but was met with a unpleasant one. ''Why do you,'' You pulled away from him in confusion. ''Are you smoking?'' He questioned with his face scrunched up, not liking the smell one bit.

You chuckled, ''What? Of course not, babe. Why would I smoke?'' You shrugged off his questions just like that, kissing his cheek before walking away to take a bath and get ready for bed.

The next morning, Jaehyun woke up without you beside him and he figured out you've already woken up. He made his way out of the room, stretching and yawning but glad that you two finally have a free time to spend with each other. What happened last night was long forgotten, maybe you were telling the truth. There's no reason for you to even lie to him, right?

Wrong, because the moment Jaehyun stepped a foot to the living room, he saw your figure sitting at the balcony with smoke surrounding you. Clearly, there was an ash tray at the table by your side and clearly, you've finished quite a few already.

He stomped towards you way, opening the door harshly before getting the cig out of your mouth and threw them on the ground. ''What the fu-- Jae!'' You stood up from your chair, shocked and eyes widened. ''Not smoking, huh? Then what is this?'' Jaehyun glared at the remains of your cigarettes that was displayed at the table.

He didn't shouted at you. He didn't forced you to say why and how you've to this point. Only accepting the fact that this was something you used as a coping mechanism.

What he can't accept was he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't bring himself to help you get out of that addictive nicotine because slowly, he was afraid to admit that he was getting deprived of time to spend with you.

Hours to days, days became weeks and weeks turned into months. It has been so long since Jaehyun last talked to you. Scrolling to your conversations only made his friends give him a pat of pity on his shoulder because of how many messages of his was left unread by you.

His father had told him that the Jung Enterprise was already nearing its peak and as the CEO, it was Jaehyun's job to reach and maintain it. But it wouldn't work if Jaehyun kept cancelling meetings just to stay at your apartment. Waiting like a puppy for you to come home, which you never did.

It must be the exhaustion in him because he supposed, if you're not gonna reply, might as well drown himself in work, right? And so, Jaehyun decided that it'll be better for him to just divert his attention.

His schedules became packed, meetings after meetings. Signing and approving papers. Moving places from one another. Jaehyun forgot what the words; 'eat' and 'sleep' meant.

Slowly, Jaehyun was able to get a taste of power. It was like he was getting suffocated by the amount of glory and yet he's enjoying that said suffocation. The pleasure he got whenever everyone praised how Jung Enterprise kept climbing up to the top, never failing even once along the way.

This was something he had been dreaming since he was introduced to their business.

And you bet, Jung Jaehyun would exchange this for anything else.

You weren't exactly sure whether to be happy now that you're once again driving back to your apartment. The apartment where you lived all alone, cold even though you're inside your blankets.

While might say otherwise, you would prefer staying a hotel rather than your 'home'. You're just too caught up with all these castings and fittings that you found your apartment a little too 'unfamiliar'. You didn't know how it started but you surely knew where this was leading to.

Because you've been here before, and you knew exactly how to deal with these. But Jaehyun doesn't.

''Oh now, what-- you're into drugs?'' A scoff behind you was heard. You knew you had to explain yourself but you can't afford. Not you've finally got your stomach to stop grumbling about hunger. You got filled without even actually consuming food inside your body. Bonus points for the euphoria you're in, making you feel like on cloud nine.

You hissed but made no effort to face him, continuing to inhale it as the smell of burning leaves infiltrate Jaehyun's nostrils. He pinched the bridge of him nose before walking to your front and throwing the blunt away. Just like what he did with your cigar.

Seeing your blunt being thrown away clicked something inside of you. Standing up, you pushed Jaehyun away. ''What the fuck is wrong with you?!'' Scrambling to search for the thrown weeds with your bloodshot eyes.

''What the fuck is wrong with me? No, what the fuck is wrong with you! Look at yourself! Are you even sleeping?! Are you even eating?!'' Jaehyun spewed out, looking at you as if you're some ridiculous human being.

You glared at him by the mention of eating, ''Why do you fucking care? Just go play in your little office or something..'' You whispered the last sentence harshly before pushing him and made your way out, immediately going to the bathroom.

There you puked even though you hadn't eaten anything for days, bunch of slimy liquids were the only ones that made it out. Just the thought of consuming those calories and gaining weight was something you couldn't bear.

Jaehyun wouldn't understand the pressure of having to stay skinny. He would never. He was born with 2 loving parents and a company for him to inherit the moment he was born. Jaehyun was surrounded by people who loves him while you only have him. Jaehyun would never understand that you don't want to gain weight.

You can't. You need to stay light. You HAVE to stay skinny in order for you to stay relevant in the model industry. You've done a lot to work your way on the top. You've already had a grip of your dream, and you would never let it slip out of your hands.

''I don't know, man. That sounds tough,'' Mark, a friend of his, tilted his head with the emphasize of 'tough'. Jaehyun had told him about the state of your relationship. Days wouldn't pass by without his mind boggling him about it.

Playing with a pen on his fingers, Jaehyun chewed on his bottom lips. ''Do you think it'll be better if we cool off?'' he said lowly and it made Mark froze. The younger took a breath and ran his hand on his face, ''Dude, I mean- it's fine to take a break once in a while and you obviously need it, yes.''

Mark looked down, ''If you think that it'll mend the crack then go for it, but if you think it'll do otherwise, might as well just- you know?''

Jaehyun's eyebrows furrowed, confused, ''Well?''

The younger sighed, feeling himself get older much faster just by having a talk with the CEO, ''What I'm trying to say is that, talk to her first. She could be going through something right now, and she might need someone to be at her side.''

Mark shook his head, giving him a dismissive gesture as he stood up to leave. The door opened at the same time, revealing Jaehyun's secretary, ''Sir? Meeting at 3 minutes,'' He reminded Jaehyun.

Jaehyun nodded, getting a few of his papers before walking towards the door with Mark following behind him.

Thinking about what the younger said, the CEO could feel himself question his worth for you. He can't give help to someone who doesn't want help, Jaehyun thought. Maybe his efforts weren't enough for you to trust him?

Jaehyun wouldn't admit it any time soon but he knew that the cool off suggestion was just something that covers what he truly had in mind.

It had been a week since you last contacted Jaehyun, ever since then, you hadn't been replying to his texts and calls. It was the epitome of unexpected but welcomed, though. Cutting him like that wasn't intentional but it sure has brought you some fresh air to breath.

Being with Jaehyun these past few weeks was very suffocating for you even when you've only spent the littlest time together. You felt your every move being watched and you actions being limited. Like a child with her parent.

You inhaled and exhaled the smoke, feeling lighter with every hit of the addictive leaves. Smiling to yourself, you felt at ease like this, no one to look at you as if judging every single step you take.

Your attention was diverted when your front door busted open and clear traces of footsteps were heard coming towards you. It was long before it revealed a fuming Jaehyun.

No words were said as he opened his phone and threw it to you without care.

''A week without having any contact with you and this is the first news that'll greet me? What the fuck are you doing to yourself?'' Jaehyun's voice was calm but his tone can be considered as harsher than the last time he talked to you.

Confusion displayed on your face as you stride towards the thrown cellphone that landed at the table, it showed an article. Without even reading the contents of it, you already knew what is was about, looking by the picture below the headlines. Big bold letters accompanied by photos taken as a proof.

Everyone aren't as innocent as they portrayed to be.

And there you are, looking shit as ever. Beside you was someone you know that held a syringe, injecting morphine to your body.

You scoffed at it, ''It's just morphine, why the fuck are they acting like nobody else used drugs?'' Jaehyun couldn't believe what he was hearing, he can feel his ears stinging with every words you say. ''Are you hearing yourself right now? Just because you've seen someone used it, doesn't mean that you gotta do it as well. Be fucking mature for once and think of your health.''

''Ah, you're done with playing as the perfect boyfriend so now you're moving to act as if you're a fucking advisor or something? like a father who 'knows the best for his daughter', huh? Is that it? Or you have an important meeting in about 5 minutes so you're getting rid of me because you couldn't fucking prioritize your girlfriend before you company!''

Every word felt like a thorn stabbing at your heart as you let Jaehyun know what he had put you through when he started to change. That you still have feeling and emotions. That you were hurting as well, just like other normal human being.

Jaehyun let out a sound of disbelief, ''That only happened when you decided it's better to focus on getting high, smoking different shits everyday than to solve things out with your boyfriend like other normal human being. So yes, maybe I did prioritized my company before my girlfriend. 'Cause even drowning myself in work gives me more assurance that I- for the least -worth something than being with my girlfriend who doesn't even wanna fucking talk to me,''

''Oh my god, stop being so fucking far up your ass!'' Screams filled the room as you threw your coat at the man in front you. He was breathing heavily like you are, gripping his hands to a fist.

The way he worded everything, it was like all of these were your fault. It was as if you took the happiness and love away from the relationship who used to be full of it. It was like you've dragged this relationship down with you, ruining both at the same time until they were impossible to fix.

''All these past months, I've been trying to understand all your shenanigans with your modelling! I even cancelled a fucking meeting with a big client for you! And now you're telling me that all I think about is myself?'' It was like venom dripped out of his mouth as he spit out the words. It hurts but you couldn't care less. You're done pretending as if you're still in a happy and healthy relationship.

As weeks passed by, you were falling deep into a hellhole. You, yourself, doesn't even know if you can trust Jaehyun to save you from it. Considering how he was more determined to bring his company to the top rather than helping you out of your cave, you presume that being with Jaehyun further brought you nothing but more pain and suffering.

Yet Jaehyun doesn't know how you both had come to this. Was it so bad for him to want the best for his company? Was it so bad for him to work on his dreams? Ever since you and him became official, his focus was only on you. So how come he became the selfish one here?

''God, that company again-- then go! The door is fucking open for you to leave anytime! I can't deal with this shit anymore. If you continue acting like a fucking God who had done everything to save his people everytime you cancel a fucking meeting, then you find someone else to roleplay with you!''

''Fine then! I can't also deal with someone so narcissistic. So narcissistic that she can't see the efforts of her man to help her because all she sees is herself and how fucking great she is-- fine! I'll fucking leave. Anywhere is better than being here with someone who can't fucking see the value of other people.'' That was the last thing Jaehyun said before walking away, closing the door behind him harshly as remains of him stayed at your condo.

Jaehyun was no longer your own heart. Instead, he was a walking hammer that smashed your heart into pieces.

Social Elite Modelling Agency had announced the break up of the infamous 'perfect relationship' involving Jung Jaehyun and their model, Y/N.

she deserves it

if I was in Jung's place, I would leave her too

she looks like she hadn't eaten for days, hope she's doing okay

Jaehyun seemed like a very good guy, what happened?

first her career and now her relationship, she always ruins everything good.

-> true, I wouldn't be surprised if she was the reason of their break up, she's the epitome of problem.

the guy was like perfect, the problem was her.

the pictures of Y/N are concerning, hope she's gonna be alright someday.

You scoffed as you slammed the newest Vogue Magazine on the table in front of you, diverting your eyes to the screen in front, followed by a small laugh of mocking, earning a look from your friend. ''THIS is what they call news? This was 2 years ago for goodness' sake!'' Your rants echoed across the room eyes burning a hole through the news casted on your computer's monitor.

''You know media. If they can't find something from the present, they'll dig up the past.'' The deep voice replied to you. Looking at the couch not far from your place, you could see the figure of the man being covered by the same magazine you've been looking at for the past hour.

Shaking your head, you expressed disagreement. ''I just don't understand why it has to be me, Taeyong.'' The said man stood up and walked towards you, sighing as he sat at the chair in front.

''It's because you're still relevant, you're still famous. Media wouldn't care about you and he who must not be named if you both aren't known up 'till to this day.'' A smile appeared on his adonis face, crossing his legs while he leaned to your table.

''Besides, you're not still in love with your ex, aren't you?'' His smile turned into a teasing smirk, eyebrows going up and down as his fingers gestured a heart. You rolled your eyes at his actions, ''Ha ha real funny, yong.''

''Kidding aside, don't pay too much attention with it. It's not worth it. People will eventually get tired of hearing the same news over and over,'' With a tilt of his head, he pointed out.

You sighed and nodded, ''You're right, not worth my time.''

Years had passed since your lowest point of life and you could say that you've learned a lot, including how to manage your own schedules and know what's better for yourself, the real and actually better this time.

After the break up, everyone witnessed how you turned into the worst version of yourself, getting off everyone's radar and suddenly being seen, looking as if you're homeless and had nothing to eat.

Everyone can't almost recognize you whenever they see the photos during that era, except Taeyong, a fellow model. The man was an acquaintance, appeared in your life way before you got into a relationship but with a busy life of both, it's rare that you two contacted.

Not until the news broke out and Taeyong happened to stumble upon it at a website. He didn't hesitated to contact you, though he failed a lot, eventually, he succeeded through a friend who knew you as well. Taeyong refused to tell you who.

It was quite a ride when the red-haired model became your best friend and help you to get through. Starting from stabling your mental health to getting your life back together. You never forget to thank him but he refused it everytime you do. According to him, your recovery was all on you and all he did was support your decisions, therefore, the credits should be given to yourself.

There was even a time where you thought of quitting modelling and start your own fashion business, he didn't even had a second thought before agreeing, gifting you art pencils and a sketchbook. That certain pad was used ever since it was bought, containing an adequate amount of your first sketches.

Taeyong, being great as ever, had become your advisor and best friend despite having a busy schedule that required travelling from one places to another.

His appearance in your life was unexpected but very welcomed and appreciated.

''Have you checked your new project?'' Taeyong asked you as he lazily laid on his back, reaching for the painted stars and moon on the ceiling even though he knew he couldn't touch it. ''I haven't, what's up?'' You don't remember checking it yet, more over remembering to plan checking it as you have quite a lot on your to-do works.

The older man let out a bored groan, ''I think it was a skincare brand,'' You hummed to acknowledge what he was saying, a gesture to say that he can continue. ''I didn't know they are putting you on commercial films nowadays, you tryna' act or something?'' There wasn't any hint of mocking, it was pure and genuine curiosity.

Shaking your head, ''Nah, agency said the company's head was a friend of our CEO, said they were asking for someone that made noises.'' Taeyong scrunched his nose and smiled widely, ''Making noises, huh? Told you, you're still famous as ever. You've always been making noises but hearing it now, I feel like a proud dad.''

Reciprocating his smile, you threw your extra lollipop at him, his favorite. ''And I will always thank you for helping me get back on my feet.''

''Stop,'' The man giggled, disagreeing. He got on his feet and grabbed your hands, dragging you with him to the door. ''Let's go, get some ice cream.''

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you went out of the bathroom, rubbing your hair gently with a microfiber towel to dry it as soon as possible. Rummaging through your drawer, you chose the comfortable yet still presentable looking clothes, deciding with a white crop top and sweat pants, topping it with a black cropped cardigan.

Just as you were putting on a simple and light makeup, your attention was caught by the knock on your front. The arch of your eyebrows furrowed as you didn't expect any visitors nor any deliveries today, a thought of someone finding out about your address crossed your mind but quickly vanished when you saw the newly dyed blonde hair of the one and only, Lee Taeyong, at the peephole.

''What're you doing here?'' Asked by you the moment the door was opened. Taeyong's small smile changed into a jokingly annoyed face, ''Hello to you too, Taeyong. How are you, Taeyong? Are you doing fine, Taeyong? That's really good, Taeyong! I'm glad that you're okay, Taeyong!'' You laughed at his reaction, giving him a light push inside the apartment, the older immediately jumping to lay down on your couch lazily.

''I was bored, I had nothing to do today,'' Grumbling, he answered your question earlier. You snickered getting your makeup and brought to the living room to finish it there, sitting at the floor, in front of Taeyong as you placed the products on the coffee table. ''Shouldn't you be sleeping, then? You always rant about not having enough time to get a proper sleep or something,'' You mumbled, touching up a few areas here and there.

''Do you think I haven't done that yet? Dude, I was asleep for 15 hours straight,'' Taeyong announced to you, emphasizing the word fifteen. You scoffed, ''So you decided to crash at my place and make a mess?'' Pointing at the messy arrangements of his socks and shoes, plus his cap which was thrown carelessly. He appeared slightly abashed with his smile, sending a peace sign and a flying kiss, earning a grimace from you.

Finally done with the makeup, you groaned in slight pain as you stood up, cleaning your things before putting them back to your room and making your way to get your shoulder bag.

''You've already made a mess but don't make more, alright?'' Warning him while you picked the shoes that matches your outfit but not that eye-catching to blend in, tying your shoes for safety. Taeyong quickly shot up, ''Wait- you're going somewhere?'' His eyes followed you as you walked around to check if you had forgotten something, going towards the door to leave.

''Obviously,'' Muttering while fixing the your face mask and cap hid your face, Taeyong scurry to wear his shoes and cap as well, jogging towards you. ''I'll come with you,'' Silence filled the air along with your stare at him, waiting for him to say that he's joking. But none was said, so you presume that he was indeed serious.

Giving you a nod with a bounce, he gestured a hand to tell you to go ahead and lead the way. So you did, closing the door, making sure it was safely locked before making your way to the parking lot of the building to use your car. You didn't hear anything from Taeyong, only following you and sitting at the passenger seat with a jolly vibe.

The only time he talked was when he asked you to play some music and where were you going. Again, you answered with a 'something', gaining a whine from you in which you laughed.

Arriving at the place, Taeyong made a face that showed a disappointment, clearly looking forward to a 'trip', not even a single thought of visiting a grocery store. You chuckled at his expression, ''What? Dude, I need to eat,'' Pointing with your lips, you told him to get a cart while you went ahead of him to start roaming around.

The blonde male would be lying if he said he didn't enjoyed the peaceful shopping-- always being surrounded with crowds and bodyguards, you two doesn't often experience this kind of comfortable vibe, so it's safe to say that this was a breather for the both of you.

It was not until your peripheral caught a sight of someone hiding in plain sight with a camera obviously angled towards you and Taeyong. You hummed, naturally showing back to it as you tugged your best friend's shirt, ''Dude,'' He furrowed his eyebrows at you, questioning your actions.

A brief widening of your eyes was all it took for Taeyong to realize what you were trying to convey, lowering his cap as he pushed the cart away from the lenses. ''Can't have a peaceful grocery shopping, huh?'' Hearing him tsked, holding you by your waist to guide you at a cashier with an empty line and quickly punched your items. Paying for the foods and drinks mindlessly with his card before carrying the bags and ushering you outside the store.

''Let's go, Yuta needs to know about this,'' The car's engine created a sound and before you knew it, you reached your agency's building and you were heading towards your manager's office.

''This is not a big deal but we're definitely gonna have a hard time shutting down the dating rumors,'' Said by Yuta while he scrolled through the news of the spotting of your apparently-- ''grocery date'' with Taeyong.

Yuta had became your manager through, again, your best friend. He was someone Taeyong trusted and knew for the longest of time so the man decided to recommend the japanese. And now, it was not only Taeyong who trusted Yuta with their whole life, but you as well. The japanese had proven many times that he was worthy of your trust plus friendship by how he protected you from further issues and how he supported you with any decisions, not without talking you down about the consequences, of course.

Yuta never pressured you about your body, never been strict about your diet and never limited you with going out with your friends and doing what you wanted. Yuta was a coworker turned into friend in no time.

Playing with your lower lip, you looked up to him, ''So, what do we do?'' A small snort was picked up by your ears beside, ''Let them think that way, it's not like dating me is bad, isn't it?'' Taeyong suggested with a smirk, earning a smack from you that made him let out a sound of pain.

Your manager only sighed at the childish sight of you and your best friend, shaking his head as he relaxed in his chair, ''Denying it immediately would only cause further suspicions, let it die down for a day or two.''

Taeyong shrugged his shoulders while you nodded. Both neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the plan.

''Can you cover up for me? The appointment?'' Rustling and a sound of engine came from the other line, Yuta's voice filled with anxiousness and worry. Nodding even if he can't see you, you agreed to do as he requested-- telling him not to worry.

You were hanging out at Taeyong's apartment when your manager called, saying something urgent came up which was why he couldn't attend the supposed meeting the the CEO of the skincare brand you were going to model for. Handling your own schedules and attending meetings weren't new to you as you've done them for a while after firing your last handler. So you were no way near of fearing to meet the clients, right?

Wrong. When something in you rang bells of warnings, you didn't hesitate to drag Taeyong with you, not even bothering to tell him where you were going. He could only thank the universe for his fashion taste and good looks that whatever he wore made him look presentable and elegant.

Reaching the building of the address Yuta had sent you, you stride confidently inside, making your way to the reception as you informed about the meeting involving your manager and the CEO. Fortunately, the lady confirmed it with no issues, proceeding to lead you and Taeyong to the elevator, you weren't sure if the employees were gawking at you or the man beside you, stifling their giggles as they stole glances.

''Damn, wonder if this is soundproof or something,'' Taeyong whispered to himself as you both stood in front of what seemed to be a door made out of acoustic plywood. Giving him a look, he almost instantly showed a smirk, knowing well that the look you were giving him meant that he should behave and be formal.

It wasn't long before the doors were pulled open, revealing a huge room with high ceiling and minimalistic designs. There were no picture frames of whatsoever, all of it were office related and some were for aesthetic purposes. The lady in charge of assisting you ushered you inside, staying by your side until the man sitting on the chair right at the center of the room turned around.

You held a breath unconsciously when the man with black jet hair faced you, confusion taking over your emotions as your brain processed the image of Mark Lee sitting in front of you, smirking as if he's in some kind of action movie.

''Mark?'' Looking at him up and down with confusion as you observed his stance. Snapping out of your bubble when you heard a snort beside you, you didn't know whether to greet him formally or informally, considering the fact that he was seated on the very chair that clearly was stated to be for the CEO. His lean body doesn't seem to quiet fit the said chair as it radiated massive intimidating vibes, something that you don't get that much from the young man.

Mark's smirk turned into a friendly smile, standing up before walking towards where you stood, offering his hand for a shake. ''Are you the CEO?'' Taeyong questioned with a quirk of an eyebrow, hands on his pockets like some gangster. You nudged him by your arm, sending him another look of warning, pursing your lips as you made a fist with your hand-- hidden from Mark's sight.

''No, he's not,'' A familiar deep voice coming from the entrance of the room rang your ears, it was so familiar that you could feel yourself froze, eyes widening with size where nervous, shock and a lot of mixed emotions were evident.

Soon, a figure of a man taller than the 3 of you made an appearance, pushing Mark lightly out of the way before sitting on where the younger was earlier. Seeing him take the chair, you've now realized why Mark didn't fit it. It was as clear as the clouds outside the building.

His tall and muscular body bent down, settling down as he relaxed against the chair. Just like what other people might say, it fit him like a puzzle. The way he sat with his arms placed on each side, legs open in a comfortable yet formal way and his eyes burning holes through your soul, making you give out answers without him, even asking the questions.

It explained why the chair seemed to have such a dominating and intimidating aura, it fitted its owner. To say the least, it was like the king was finally placed on his rightful throne.

''Take a seat,'' With a nod and a motion of his hand, the three of you sat in silence, as if puppies that had gotten tamed. ''I apologize if I didn't get to greet you when you walked through my door, but I assume, my friend here already did,'' You could feel yourself gulping, you don't even know why this was so nerve wrecking.

You don't know if it was because of the suffocating atmosphere inside the room. Maybe it was the way his piercing eyes panned at you. Maybe it was because of the memories from before started flooding your mind the moment your eyes met his. Maybe it was the longing feeling inside you as you stared at him, not sued to being so distant.

You're not sure which was the reason but you're hoping it wasn't the last. You couldn't afford to regain the longing and despair that kept you tied to darkness in a lot of months. You wouldn't want to experience being so vulnerable and weak that even a small needle would break you apart. You don't want to lose yourself to Jung Jaehyun once again.

The following days consisted of meetings about the contract you'll have with the brand. During those days, you've learned that Jaehyun was able to extend his company to multiple industries and you just can't deny the proudness inside you. By how the employees and staffs around you talked about him, Jaehyun appeared to be so hardworking that many deemed him to spending all of his time working. Comments about his good looks and body image was greatly spread out as well, earning praises here and there with men and women expressing envy and admiration.

''Dude, can you close your mouth? You're literally drooling,'' Taeyong poked to the side, you jerked and pinched him lightly as a revenge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned to him to whisper, ''I'm not drooling, dumbass.'' But your best friend only gave you a mocking smile, ''Sure, jan. Sure,'' Nodding his head as he made an 'okay' sign with his fingers under the table.

Irritated, you slap his hands lightly, making him laugh a little at your pissed facial expression. ''Taeyong, I swear to God, stop--''

''-- important so I hope everyone is paying attention rather than playing games under the table.'' You turned to look at Jaehyun who was talking in front, his eyes boring to you as he gave you an eyebrow flash, clarifying the fact that he was talking to you. He tilted his head when you didn't answered, putting his hands in his pockets, ''Isn't that right, Miss?''

The stares you received from the employees produced a clearing of your throat, nodding and sitting properly, ''Yes, that's right,'' You swear you could feel Taeyong sniffling a laugh beside you. You couldn't believe he just scolded you for not listening like some teacher.

Once the meeting about the plan for the photoshoot was adjourned, everyone proceeded to spend their small break by having coffee, going back to their respective floors and visitors like you and Taeyong, went out to go back to your agency.

You reached for the door handle when you've heard Mark calling you, turning around, you saw him still settled beside his boss slash friend who appeared to be busy reading something. ''Are you busy? Do you have anything to do after this?'' Though a bit puzzled, you shook your head no, curious as to why he was asking you. ''No, I don't have any schedule after this,'' You cleared up, making Mark smile.

''Would you want to eat meat with us?'' He suggested, looking at you like a younger brother asking for a candy to his older sibling. Facing Taeyong, you gave him the same question as you figured out you don't want to join them unless you have Taeyong by your side, ''Would you?''

''Oh, not him!'' The both of you immediately swirled to see Mark seemingly surprised with what he said as well, ''I mean-- it's not like Taeyong would reject a meat treat, right?'' Anyone could sense the awkwardness at the young man's voice but only a few can see how a certain someone shot him a look.

Taeyong hummed, ''I do have something after this,'' You prayed for him to reject the offer, believing that your best friend knew you well that he knew you wouldn't want to join the two. ''But sure, at dinner?'' Your jaw dropped at his request, in contrast to Mark and Taeyong's questionable grin.

''Sounds great! You two have a safe journey to wherever you're going!'' At least the excitement in Mark's voice made you smile.

Dinner came and the four of you were now seated in a rectangle shaped table with Mark at Jaehyun's side, and Taeyong at yours. It actually surprised you that you-know-who agreed to come, considering that his face doesn't seem impressed when Mark suggested it.

Thanks to Mark and Taeyong for the constant chatting about random things that helped breaking the silence, because if it weren't for them, the awkwardness surrounding your and Jaehyun's side would kill you.

Taking a bite of the fillet mignon, you joined the conversation, ''Since when did you two got this close?'' It was pure and genuine curiosity, not laced with any bits of malice nor mocking so you're not really sure why they seemed to be frozen, taken aback by your comment.

''Since we met him? We bumped into each other a lot after that, so we got close, you know?'' Taeyong nonchalantly replied, hand gestures and all to support his claim. You could only hum, accepting the reason as you don't really have the choice to do so.

''I see,'' Nodding, you didn't pay any attention to them again, munching on your food with hopes of brushing off the uncomfortableness. Minutes had passed by and Mark excused himself for a smoke break, pulling Taeyong with him as according to the young man, he still have a lot to share.

While the two departed from the table, you were left with Jaehyun who was busy typing away on his phone. Which was honestly, something that you're thankful for, because ''God, this is so boring-- I felt like dying.''

''Talk to me, then,'' You swivel around, surprised by Jaehyun's mumble, only to see him still focusing on his screen with his eyebrows scrunched to the middle. Tilting your head a little, you convinced yourself that maybe you've heard him wrong.

Continuing to finish your food, you wondered why the two were taking so long, Taeyong doesn't even smoke, he already quited a long time ago. Thoughts kept running through your head as you chewed, and maybe, you should've kept them to yourself. It was too late before you realized that you've voiced out what you were thinking, ''Super awkward,'' Even prolonging that letter 'a' with the urge to express it passionately.

You, then swore, heard Jaehyun mumbling under his breath again, ''Maybe if you didn't bring your little boyfriend with you,'' But when you gave him a brief glance, he was talking to his phone, the speaker directly at his mouth as if to emphasized that he was on a call.

Feeling like he was targeting you, though knowing it was immature, you still replied without even having the sureness that his comments were to specifically attack you. ''Oh who wouldn't love to bring my boyfriend everywhere? He's just so sweet,'' Hiding your smirk behind the napkin being pat to your lips, looking down a second before peeking at his reaction.

Your smirk widened when you saw how his eyebrow raised in question and his facial expression seemed to be irritated. What made you laugh was the way he so subtly scoffed, whispering ''Sweet, my ass.''

A clearing of throat was heard as the two men sat beside you again. The little test of yours wasn't done but it was enough for you to know that Jung Jaehyun was still affected by you.

The night had come after a very long day and you were unfortunate to not bringing your own car, so you were stuck with waiting for a car that you booked online. Yuta had warned you not to use these kind of apps as it will increase the possibilities of having your address leaked and of course, a stalker. But you don't really have a choice right now, given that it's very dark outside and you've got no one to ask help, Taeyong who was your one call away was currently at the other end of the earth.

Almost pass 20 minutes, you've gotten impatient and near to disturb Yuta to come pick you up when a black BMW car pulled up in front of you. Preventing yourself to squeal in glee, you tiptoe to steal a peek through the passenger side's rolling down windows, expecting a driver looking guy but instead was greeted by a CEO with a stern face, looking ahead and not moving at all.

You blinked the confusion away, not believing what you were seeing, only snapping out of your trance when Jaehyun turned to you, ''Does your manager know you're still here?''

Putting up a facade, you replied with your chin up, ''Yes, he does.''

''Is he picking you up?'' You hated how that eyebrow of his was so intimidating.

''Yes.. Of course, he will,'' You almost pinched yourself when you felt your voice almost shaking, wondering you felt so nervous around him.

Hearing him let out a short scoff, you saw him rolled his eyes a bit before settling his left hand on the window he just rolled down, playing with his lips as he looked ahead. His right hand whose fingers were tapping stopped after a minute. Jaehyun faced you again, his arms remaining where they were, ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, is he picking you up?''

You pondered a bit, thinking of the consequences of whatever decision you might follow. Whilst doing that, it appeared that you were taking quiet a long time when Jaehyun thought your silence meant no so he slowly drove away from where you stood.

''It's okay, I still have a booked car,'' Breathing out, you opened your phone with ease inside you, just to be greeted by the word cancelled at the bottom part in massive bold red text, as if mocking you for making the wrong decision.

It was as though you were cursed with bad luck because of how everything doesn't go to your way today. Before you could even wish that someone you know will pull up in front of you and pick you up, the same BMW car showed again, honking once, rolling down his window.

''Get in,'' was all he said, not even giving a glance. You don't want to risk the chances of getting left alone again despite the urge to reject the offer so you climbed up and settled beside the person whom you didn't expect to have this kind of interaction one more time after those years.

You felt his stare, judging and observing you. Gulping, you didn't know how to react, your eyes shaking as you tried to figure out why Jaehyun was staring at you.

Answers were given yet multiple questions appeared when he slowly leaned towards you, getting closer and closer as seconds passed by until you could feel his breath panning against your cheeks. You turned to face him in confusion, reaching out to put a barrier between the both of you using your palms when you heard a click you, followed by Jaehyun settling back to his own seat, placing his arm on the open window again while the other was on the handle.

It was only then when you realized that he was buckling the seatbelt for you, the realization made you clear your throat out of nowhere, ''You should've just told me,'' You declared, wanting to convey that you didn't liked what he did one bit.

''I would if you weren't too busy inspecting my car,'' He said nonchalantly, spinning the handle with his right hand, looking side by side to make sure he wasn't gonna hit something. You might hit him though by how the way he replied to you, it irritated you for no reason.

A pregnant silence filled the car as you watched through the window, it was only broken when Jaehyun suddenly spoke, ''Do you want something?'' Your eyes diverted to him full of accusations and hits of malice.

He raised an eyebrow at your expression, ''Don't be so full of yourself, I'm just hungry. It would be disrespectful of me if I didn't asked you,'' God, why was he acting like this? It was like you're dealing with a teenager going through puberty, hence the annoyance and the endless comebacks.

Rolling your eyes, you were about to shake your head to reject the offer when your stomach grumbled loudly, announcing how you haven't eaten anything since morning. Glancing at Jaehyun, you don't know if your eyes were just playing with you but you might've seen him stifling a smile behind the fingers that was playing with his lips.

''Mcdonald's?''

''Yes, thank you.''

Embarrassment took over you to the point where you just wanted the floor to swallow you and never spit you out. Fronting as something or someone was harder than you thought, especially in front of someone who knew you well. Maybe even more than yourself.

You were definitely more than glad to have reached your building, you've tried to lessen your interaction with that man after the 'grabbing some food' scene but you couldn't avoid it as you had to tell him where you lived.

Mumbling a simple 'thanks' was all you did before getting out of the car and rushing inside the building, sighing in relief when you've entered your apartment. The day was tiring enough for you to immediately washing up and going straight to bed.

Morning came and what had greeted you was multiple calls and texts from your surely angry manager, accompanied by Taeyong's consistent knocks on your door. ''Bro, I swear to God-- if you don't fucking wake up--'' Shooting up, you quickly opened it, scared of what he may do as the last time he said that, he threw a bucket of an ice cold water at your peaceful sleeping figure.

You did your routine much quicker, even skipping a few of them that wasn't crucial to your hygiene before dragging Taeyong out of the couch to your car. Thankfully, you arrived at the photoshoot earlier than you expected, you were still late though. ''You owe me a coffee,'' Whispered by Taeyong before he left you for another schedule.

Bringing Yuta with you to the coffee shop might be a wrong decision as you always ended up paying for the drinks, him reasoning that it was your payment for making him do those extra works, which you agreed to. Zipping your bag open, you rummage through it to look for your wallet but it wasn't where you've always put it.

Tsking, you explored the other parts of your bag, yet no signs of your wallet was seen nor felt. Yuta might've sensed it as he walked towards you to ask what's wrong, you told him about it, resulting in him asking where you've last put it.

''I promise, it was just right here,'' You said with panic, still searching.

''Inside your bag? Where did you put it last night, then?'' Recalling, you've put in on your bedside, given that you were too tired. You still had it when you and Jaehyun brought food-- bells rang inside you as a light bulb seemed to lit up above your head. Jaehyun! You could recall a small tud sound when he buckled your belt, that should be your missing purse.

''I.. I might've left it in my apartment, I'll wire it to you once I get home,'' Giving him a sheepish smile, you received a look full of suspicion from Yuta, nodding at him to assure. With your manager paying for the drinks, you were now left with the problem you didn't want to face.

How were you gonna contact Jaehyun and ask for your purse back?

The sound of a couch rustling barely passed through your ears, getting your attention from the focus of posing in front of the camera to the corner of the room, you slightly caught a sight of someone in a suit with his legs crossed. It was no brainier of who it was sitting with such overpowering aura, there was only one man who you knew could do it.

His were boring to you as you followed the instructions of the director, acting all lovey dovey with your co-model, showing the products through placing them on your partner's face lovingly. ''Can we do more?'' The director requested in which you two followed. Your coworker's, Haechan, arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as he rubbed his nose with the product with yours, creating a soft and domestic moment.

The staffs cooed at the actions, absolutely satisfied by the chemistry you're radiating. From your peripheral, you saw the way Jaehyun's jaw tightened, his hands tapping his knee continuously before he made the decision of standing up and leaving the scene.

As if on cue, only a few scenes were took before the director announced the end of the photoshoot, thanking and praising everyone for the job. You made your way to change clothes as the sando and denim shorts were too thin for your liking, the cold breeze of the air condition seeping through the fabric.

Reaching for the hem of your top, you stopped your motions when you heard the door opened, a certain CEO entered. His eyes fell on you, he didn't hesitated nor had second thoughts as he stride to your way slowly, hands caressing his wrist before fixing his cuffs.

Wanting to avoid him, you stepped backwards but was unfortunately met with the edge of the counter where the makeups were placed. Not getting any time to walk away as boh of his hands were settled at either side of your body, caging you in, cornering you as his eyes searched for yours.

The silence thickened, your gulp and breathing were heard along with the buzzing of the AC. Gripping the edge with your hands, you failed to lean backwards as the CEO lowered his head, making you face him directly.

The time slowed down like some disney movie when your brain processed how Jaehyun moved closer and closer, his fingers brushing your waist that electrified your body, pursing your lips as you placed a hand to his chest to stop him.

Not really knowing why, you felt humiliated by how he chuckled lowly at your action, biting his lower lip before bringing his face close enough that you could feel his breath fanning your nose. Your own voice got caught in your throat when you tried to grumble a protest, only producing a squeak.

His lips hovered above yours, forming a smirk, decreasing the distance little by little until there was a centimeter gap left. You gulped for the nth time, it was so close yet still so far. With your hand forming a fist, you scrunched a part of his dress shirt along with it.

Jaehyun's lips moved upwards a bit, stopping once he decided the movement was enough. He observed your face a little, detecting any uncomfortableness. All be damned when he didn't detect anything. Proceeding to place his lips at the tip of your nose lightly and softly, pulling away as the door opened just in time.

''Sir? Have you found your watch?'' Jaehyun hummed at his employee's question, stretching his hand to reach for something behind you, putting it on his wrist and wearing it again.

You heard him whisper before walking out of the room, ''Should've never left something so important,'' It was only you who could sense that he wasn't only talking about the watch.

You left the venue with a lot of thoughts floating in your mind, one of them being what will happen next?

Taeyong's sharp gasp pierced your ears, hand over his mouth as if he couldn't believe what his screen had projected, ''What's up with you?'' You asked him, giving him a glare mixed with wonder. ''Did you just denied our lovely, perfect and healthy relationship?!'' He pointed at you with so much accusations, mouth wide open, it was as if you've been convicted to a capital crime.

''What relationship?'' Eyebrows scrunched to the middle, you reached to peek what he was looking at, there you saw the big bold letters about how the dating issue between you and Taeyong weren't true. ''Dude, I did not deny nothing,'' It was the truth, you're too caught up with your current projects that you even forgot about the said 'scandal'.

You shushed Taeyong when your phone rang, displaying Yuta's name, sliding the answer button and placing the speaker on your ear. ''The photos came out,'' He announced.

With your eyebrows creased to the middle, you responded, ''And so?'' Not sure as to why he was telling you this. ''Well..'' By the tone, your eyes already rolled to the back of your head, knowing that this meant his usual request. Already detecting your reaction, he urged you to listen first, ''Wait wait! To be fair, this is for your another project, okay? Plus, It's a really really good one. If you want proof, I'm currently with Taeyong!''

''He's right beside me, what're you talking about?'' Screaming at your ear enabled his voice to be heard even without being on speaker, ''Dumbass,'' Taeyong muttered under his breath.

You heard him pause, you could almost hear his reasons being picked, ''I mean-- Taeyong's with me in this project, he was the one who told me about this certain someone wanting you on the runway,'' Shaking your head in disbelief, you don't have any clue as why he was lying to you but having so much trust with the man, you couldn't care less.

''Whatever, what favor would you want me to do this time?'' Yuta let out a small giggle, wondering if he asked favors this frequently that you already knew what was about to come.

''Can you pick up the hard copies?''

''Why do we need the hard ones? Can't you just like-- send it through emails or something, it's 2023.''

''Nah, the company wanted a hard copy.''

''Is it necessary? Really?''

''Yes, it is.''

''Fine, where will I pick it?''

That's how you ended up in front of the oak wood door with the word Chief Executive Officer plastered in it, gripping the sling of your shoulder bag as you changed weight from one leg to another in an attempt to brush off the nervousness bubbling inside of you.

Knocking against it, you saw the light on the door handle turned green, indicating that it was unlocked and you can freely enter. Twisting the handle, you slowly stepped a foot after foot inside the huge room, the same placement of things met your eyes, not even one being moved.

Except for the atmosphere surrounding the space, it was more of one where you could focus on your work and one that could tell anyone not to disturb the person inside. You expected him to be surprised as he looked but it seemed like the opposite when his eyes met yours as you took a seat in front of him placing his pen down as he greeted you formally and you greeting him back. Awkward, to say the least. Yet you're certain, he anticipated your arrival.

''Yuta had told me I had to get the hard copy of the outcome as my agency requested it, your employees led me here,'' You explained, rapping the words and almost stutter in the middle. Jaehyun made a buzzing sound with his mouth-- a hum, nodding before standing up and making his way to one of the drawers settled by the wall. He took out a folder, walking back to you and stretching his forward. You received the folder with a 'thank you', wanting to leave the room right away.

''I'm surprised you came alone today,'' Out of nowhere, Jaehyun commented that gained a snort from you, recalling his childish tantrum about bringing Taeyong with you everywhere. He placed his palms on the table as he leaned backwards, giving his legs time to relax while he put most of his weight on his arms.

''What? Were you expect my little boyfriend to come with me?'' You diverted your eyes at him with a challenging look, seeing how he hid the way he gulp made you gain confidence.

Shaking his head no, Jaehyun replied, ''You mean your best friend?'' Ah, so he'd seen the news as well, huh? You could've mistaken the glare of his for something near hope and assurance, as if he wanted you to confirm that Taeyong was nothing but a friend to you.

There was no reason not to lie, given the fact that he wasn't someone important in your life no more but you didn't. Instead, you did confirmed his claim, wanting to see what his next love will be. Your lips curving up to a smirk, ''Yeah, my best friend-- slash boyfriend.''

Jaehyun reciprocated your smirk, he got on his feet fully once again, taking steps closer to you. His torso faced your head because of his height, you didn't looked up-- you don't want to. But his fingers ever so gently brushed against your chin, tilting them upwards so he could see the view of your face clearly.

''Still lying, I see,'' The way he towered over you and his fingers holding your chin with care, it was too familiar. So familiar that what was about to come next was inevitable, your body already giving in without any protest.

The fingers moved upwards, expanding the skinship from his fingers to his whole palm settling at the side of your face. He bent down to your level, facing you directly as he kept the eye contact, not blinking in fear that he wouldn't catch a glimpse of what he wanted to see from you.

Sounds became mumbled, feeling the whole world stopped spinning as Jaehyun's pillowy lips pressed slowly and softly against yours after years. Your eyes, as if instinctively, closed, memories rushing back at you with the contact you knew your body was longing for.

He pulled away after what seemed to be an eternity, his eyes full of fondness and hope met your doe ones, thumb caressing your cheek gently as he heaved a sigh. ''Tell me to stop,'' Jaehyun whispered, gulping for the nth time.

''Tell me you don't want this,'' The CEO's brown orbs plead you to do so, wanting everything except invade your privacy and disrespect you. Instead of hearing what he wanted, his mouth that was slightly ajar were once again in contact with yours, pouring all your unsaid feelings to the kiss as you circled your arms on his neck.

You heard him mumbled against your lips, ''Fuck,'' His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you up with him and making you settle on top of his table, a much comfortable height for the both of you.

The kiss deepened with passion, the urge to have each other close even when there's no gap to decrease no more. Your hands reached the hem of Jaehyun's dress shirt, tugging at it causing a fond laugh from the man. Taking off his top, the muscled body made you drool, it was definitely more buffed than the last time you saw it. Your hands traveled from his neck to his waist, placing kisses to his chest while he reached out behind you, locking the door with a single click from the buttons beside his telephone.

You licked a stripe on his nipples, earning a groan from him as his hand went through your hair, hesitating to grip them-- not wanting to hurt you. But Jaehyun, out of all people, should know how you love pain in sex. It seemed like he remembered that, because with just one look from you, his lips curved up at the same time as his hand formed a fist, injecting pain with pleasure to you. Your smile told him everything he needed to know.

He kissed you one more time before moving his kisses to your neck, sucking and licking but careful enough not to leave obvious marks, although you slightly wished he did.

Unbuttoning your cropped cardigan, his eyes were blessed to see the sight of your breasts barely covered by your bra, he slowly slid it off your shoulder, appreciation seeping through his pecking of your skin along the way.

He, next, worked on your square pants, not having any difficulty in taking it off as it slid so effortlessly off of you, presenting a sight he longed for so long. Jaehyun traced every curves of your body with pressing his lips softly against them, taking a deep breath as he pulled away for a moment, staring at you with so much admiration that you felt blush creeping up your cheeks.

''So fucking beautiful,'' The CEO unbuckled your bra and held the waistband of your underwear between his fingers, with you taking the initiative of getting your bra off. He kneeled down, giving your inner thigh a few kisses before reaching to the center of your two legs. Jaehyun ate your pussy out as if he was making out with your lips, his tongue were all over and his face turning sideways multiple times in an attempt to reach further.

Cursing, you spread your legs open to give him space, yet his hands stopped you, grabbing each side, putting them on his shoulder, not letting it get far away from him in any way. You forgot how Jaehyun loved the thigh burned he got everytime he ate you out.

Deprivation can be shown by how he sucked on your clit, middle finger working their way in and out of you with a squelching sound. ''Jaehyun, fuck,'' God, how he loved the way you moaned his name. He had been wanting to hear that since then, only settling for porn actors as he couldn't afford having you in his arms again.

But that changed today, you're here right now. Caged in his arms, moaning in pleasure, screaming for more with no hints of protest, Jaehyun couldn't ask for more.

Placing your hand in his strands, you pulled a little and Jaehyun knew you too well to remember that this was a telltale sign of you coming close, he maybe can't see it but he knew that your back was currently arched as you squeezed his head between your legs, jerking a few times before he felt your salty juices on his tongue.

He groaned in satisfaction, licking and wanting for more, he just couldn't get enough of it. As much as he loved the taste of you though, Jaehyun couldn't ignore the ache and throb of his cock inside his pants, as well as your pleas of having him despite just coming down from your previous high.

Getting on his feet, he picked you up with little to no struggle, bringing you as he laid you down on the couch. You failed to notice how his hand were unbuckling his belt, throwing it far from you two, moving to his button and taking off his whole pants.

When you've realized that his bottom were thrown away, your hand palmed his bulge through his boxer almost right away, head still quiet caught by how Jaehyun were eating your neck, surely having a hard time not placing marks.

''Come on, Jae,'' You urged him, kissing him in tongues as you circled your legs on his waist, grinding up against his clothed cock, gaining a low moan from him. ''Want my cock, babe?'' The cockiness in his tone and the annoyingly smirk on his face matched the size of his cock. It was way beyond the average, bonus points that he knew how to use it well.

Nodding, you grind harder, expressing your want with your actions causing Jaehyun to chuckle lowly. You soon, felt his bare tip on your pussy lips, teasing you as it slid up and down but never entering you just yet.

You grumbled in impatience, wanting to slap off the smirk on Jaehyun's face, ''Bratty, huh?'' Dominance took over his deep voice, his hand went to grip your thigh as the other caressed your cheeks. You couldn't take the intimacy of Jaehyun's stare so you decided to look where you two meet.

Gulping, you used the begging expression you knew he loved so much, ''Please, Jae,''

He cursed at the sight of you begging for him, again, ''Fuck, you just know how to get me, don't you?''

Slowly, Jaehyun pushed inside of you, his length stretching your walls with its width and girth, you ignored the ache taking over you, pleading him to go all in.

Yet the CEO only shook his head, kissing you softly, stroking your sides inna comforting manner. It reminded you of your first sex with him, always distracting you from the pain and only letting go when it was time for pleasure.

That was exactly what he need, starting with slow pace before picking it up bits by bits, letting you adjust to his size as his hips jerked harsher each thrust, reaching deeper into you. You threw your head back, exposing yourself fully to Jaehyun, giving him access to everything, his hands went to hold your throat but retreated, moving to your breasts as he fondled them, licking and nibbling, giving the same amount of attention to each.

Maybe it was because of your last orgasm or maybe it was due to how Jaehyun thrusted feverishly inside you, hitting directly to your sweet spot, sending you to an overwhelming feeling of addicting euphoria that you don't ever want to escape from. You don't know which but surely, one of them was the reason you felt another climax crashing down on you once again.

Screaming and chanting Jaehyun like a mantra, you unconsciously dug your nails in Jaehyun's back, earning a hiss from the man as lines of red was painted on his skin, giving him extra pleasure other than the delicious clenching of your walls around his veiny shaft.

''Oh my god, Jaehyun!'' You shut your eyes tightly, holding Jaehyun close as you locked his hips with your legs, grasping his biceps when you've felt your climax finally breaking, your body shaking from the intensity. Feeling overstimulated when Jaehyun's hips didn't stopped from moving, reaching his own high. He immediately pulled away, jerking his cock, with him whining your name, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his mouth fell open, white strings coming out of his tip, landing on your stomach.

When he came back to his senses, he stood up from the couch, walking around to grab some tissues, wiping the remains of him on you, mumbling, ''Sorry for that.''

It was hard for you to determine if he was talking about the cum on your stomach or the relationship that failed, caused by pride and greed.

''So.. are you two now dating?'' Taeyong asked with confusion evident in his tone, followed by a nod from Mark, Yuta and Johnny. You laughed with Jaehyun, sharing a look before answering, ''I guess? Maybe?''

Mark's eyebrows furrowed, ''What kind of answer is that?'' The man beside you sheepishly smiled, reflecting yours, ''The kind of answer, we will give you everytime you ask us.''

That was the last thing they've received from your pair as you already skipped away from the scene, hands tangled together, wearing smiles brighter as ever. ''They definitely, are back together,'' Johnny declared.

''Congrats to us, and our efforts then!'' Mark cheered, raising his glass of beer for a click in which the others followed. ''Jaehyun owe us a lot,'' Yuta reminded his fellows with a shake of his head.

Getting back together with Jaehyun, it made you realized a lot of things. Such as your faults, his wrongdoings and the areas you two had lacked to fulfill. You decided to try again, the both of you.

But this time, with much understanding and patience for each other. You've figured out the importance of them in a relationship, playing vital roles in keeping it healthy and functioning.

The love now overpowered the pride.

''I'm so sorry, for not giving you a chance, for not letting you in, for belittling your problems, and for pushing you away.''

''I'm sorry, for pressuring you to open up, for making you feel obligated to share even when you're not ready yet, and for giving up with knowing well how you're going through something severe.''

''I'm sorry for everything, because when you left, it was only then when I realized that-- while I was busy chasing the stars, I was losing you.''

You both decided to try again, but this time, without pride and greed. Replacing it with love and understanding, especially now with Taeho and Taehee officially joining your little family.

#jung jaehyun #nct #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun hard hours #nct hard hours #nct imagines #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 smut #prodbymaui

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qvrcll · 6 months

Text

mention of injury, unstated relationship but you love each other dearly, mention of mizu’s past

i haven’t finished the series but wanted to write for her SO BADLY, she might be slightly occ im not sure (breaking into hives because of this) but here you go mizu nation, may u be fed FOREVER ^_^

mizu’s on a formidable path for revenge, and what better pill to choke on than leaving you, her best friend and keeper of her love and devotion, behind?

Mizu, who has known you since the two of you were but little nippers. Kids with enough knowledge of the world to know that it was dense and dark, places lit stem-winding, where she was uninvited and tables filled where she was not welcome. Still, you’d asked her for her name when she’d sat caked in mud on some clammy, piddling day. Still, you’d wrapped your arms around her shivering form during the deluge, taken up on her silent promise to “Be there when you wake up. Promise,” when the Smith’s fire bayed up behind her form, lighting the room in tinges and spills, red and then genially orange.

Still, you gather your things when she leaves in a single swear for revenge, catch her up in the snow and demand an answer, or refusal or something, other than that cold look she gets in her eye more than usual now. Your hands feel cramped, threading desperately within the skin to find warmth (which was once, too, her) but you hold yourself back, enforce bite behind your words. Flit back the tears that threaten to line the edge of your eyes — threaten yourself to bide your time and let her deal her blow with you. Leave you for good.

But it’s unexpected. Cruel. Sweet and smelling of tart, when she softens under your words. Her brows twitch when some breath hitches in your throat, bogged down and she knows it’s her fault. She’s leaving, keeping a place for you in that old, warm house, with its old and warm silence and her old and warm absence. Leaving you in the snow, whilst she leaves for blood, gore and teeth.

There’s no words out of her, just a simple, longer silence than her cruelness. Her kindness knows no curbs with you — so her crumbling hands, bearing your cheeks with patience and shivered judgement — come to surprise you, just as her kiss does. It’s cold, and when you catch her lip slowly, the two of you break into a frisson. She grips you tightly in time, hands that burn against your hips as her kiss comes to tear you at the throat, rips a dirge out of it with full force, so that when she parts from you for the air she needs, she quietens you slowly. In a way you have always done with her when her lips bled or her worth shrunk past her feet.

“Just take me with you,” you snivel against her, a child again, but holding the fraying edges of her apparel like she’d hold the fort here for longer, but Mizu lets you crumple the blue fabric beneath digits of bitter flesh. Looks at you with resignation and a little bit of that old warmth, too.

“It’s dangerous.”

“I know—I know,” a pathetic moan, “But you won’t be here.”

“I can’t.”

“Take me with you,” with a voice so hoarse, you repeat. Your fingers bind with the strings and Mizu grows airy beneath you, this affinity that she’s brewed for you (long when you were kids) coming crumbling down beneath her. She imagines a world on fire, flowers that eat at their own roots. A sky full of a burst of water, your watery eyes, the brutal flesh of her wound festering past her hip, her neck.

“I don’t want to lose you — you, out of all people. Please,” she grips your neck, kissing the skin and gooseflesh that simmers with softness, “I love you. Fuck, I really do.”

You fight with a sob then, because, of course you love her. And she loves you. And she will leave you here, with the snow as a tactile reminder of her departure and the cruel winter nights to wonder if she’s fed, if she’s alive, if she’s cold like the rest of the Earth.

“I love you—too,” a choke, “Mizu—“

And perhaps it’s the way you roll it off your tongue, the way the tenderness messes with her like a faint pair of hands, kills any sense of resolve.

Maybe she remembers your face in the dark, years prior, when you’d let her latch onto you, despite the mud and grime flicking into her own clothes. Your kindness, a friendship and the love she’d borrowed from you and made it her own, with sickly hands. With healthy hands. With growing hands.

And perhaps the blood strips off her own hands, clouds your eyes red where she remembered it not being. And perhaps, she grows a little afraid of being away from you, too.

Because she’s gripping you tight, tighter than life. The cold air no longer bothers the two of you, for there’s a newer, tender heat beneath the limbs that hold onto each other like a promise. One that she spoke of — a quiet utterance of “I’ll be there” — before you depart with her, holding the two of you together as one and the snow beneath your footwear.

#mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #mizu x you #mizu x y/n #mizu blue eye samurai drabble

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shinyac0re · 1 month

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━━ 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻 ¡! 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ━━━

( note: pls remember englisch is not my first language and there may be some grammar mistakes !)

★ angst, fighting, bad language, based on my smau „ Them still being in love w their ex !¡ “

Your heart was beating fast, too fast. You thought it was going to leap out of your chest and fall to the floor just right before your feet. Your body didn't move at all, as if it was no longer under your control. As if someone had pressed the pause button.

Your eyes starting slowly to burn and form crystal clear tears. One or two tears even made their way down your cheeks. Leaving a trace of smudged mascara with them.

Your heart broke into probably a million pieces. And you knew no glue in the whole world could stick them back together. Not even Satoru, who would always make sure to take care of your heart and put a bandage around it if it was hurt, could put the pieces together this time. Because he is the reason your heart broke in first place.

Your hand trembled. But not just your hand. Most likley your whole body. Still holding the thin piece of paper which caused your world to breake.

You never knew why everybody around you would glaze at you with that guilty eyes. But now you know. Because everybody knew and no one told you about it.

They knew the way Satoru would look at her. As if she’s the brightest star in the dark blue night sky. Just as if they were meant to be.

You would rather put the letter there where it was hidden, instead of talking with Satoru about it. You wanted to pretend not knowing about it.

But now it’s too late. Your tears already dropped onto the thin paper sheet. Causing the ink to smudge or completely disappear. You couldn’t turn back, no matter how much you wanted to.

Your carefully let your eyes wander all over the letter again. Only being able to see half of it since your view was blurred thanks to the tears. But maybe it was better this way, otherwise it would’ve just hurt to much.

„…please contact me again…“

„… sometimes late at night I still sit at our fav spot…“

„… I hope we meet again. But this time, the right time…“

„… I never wanted to lose you…“

„… I still think about you when I smell your perfume in public places because someone is wearing the same one as you…“

„ …In love, your Satoru…“

It was clearly his handwriting. You just knew it to well. The way he‘d put a little wing at the end of his name has betrayed him.

How could you be this blind?

Not being able to see that the person you love, loving someone else. You now knew Satoru would never love you as much as he loves her.

You suddenly hear the door shut. Which must’ve caused your body to be under your control again. » Baby? You home?« You hear his voice. Not answering you stand still at the place you found the letter. Y’alls bedroom.

» Hello? darling?« you hear his footsteps coming closer. With every step closer, you’re getting more nervous and anxious about what is to happen. You would love to run out of this situation. But your legs won’t move.

The door opens and it feels like it’s happening in milliseconds.

You see his white hair, the light pink lips, his sharp jawline and the cheeky grin he‘d always wear on his face in the corner of your eye.

» Hey why didn’t you answer?« he asks. He straight goes to his closet. He hasn’t seen yet that your standing there silently crying. Gripping that letter to find some hold, even tho it feels like the paper is burning into your skin. Just like the words Satoru wrote on it are burnt into your brain.

» Love is everything alright?« he comes near to you, trying to look at your face. But you can’t stop looking at the wall. His eyes slowly move to your Hand. The letter almost completely crumbled because of how thight your grip is.

» May I ask what your holding onto like your life depends on it.« he laugh’s. Not knowing he got caught.

Not knowing that Y/n is crying, because he can’t see her face. Her hair also hiding it like its a curtain and Y/n tries to hide behind it.

But suddenly your curtains moves. Revealing your red eyes and crying face. You can’t overhear how Satoru suddenly sucks in air as if it were his last breath.

» Hey love, what’s wrong?« he looks at you all worried. But the fact that this is all fake won’t leave your head. How should that even be possible.

You still stay quiet. Swallowing down all the words laying on your tongue. You can’t find the perfect words. Maybe because they don’t exist.

» Hey, you know you can talk with me right? I‘m not a stranger, we‘ve been together for over a year know.«

…“we‘ve been together for over a year know.“ those words replay in your head for a continuous loop. For over a year he‘s pretending to love you, when he was still in love with her. Telling you everyday, he loves you more than anything, knowing it was a lie.

Finally your able to move. You just show him the letter. Holding it directly into his face.

He needs some time to realize what your‘re holding in you’re Hand. And when he does, his ice blue eyes widen in disbelief. His mouth open without saying anything.

And now the anger takes over Y/n. » We‘re done.« is all you say before going to the closet they both share to get some of your stuff. Satoru just watching you unable to do anything because of the shook.

» Y/n wait! Please let me explain!« you stay quite. Shaking your head as an answer. » Please Y/n I‘ll explain it to you! You know- the letter is really old!«

You close your eyes. Trying to hold back tears. You won’t allow them to stream down your face. This is ridiculous. Is all you could think about. » Satoru, it’s over. Should I spell it for you?« you ask him with a tone of anger and disbelief.

His eyes are filled with tear’s. You laugh a bit because of that. He never really loved you, at least not as much es he loves her. But he still as tear’s in his eyes. » I can’t believe you did this.« you mumble to yourself while packing some of your clothes into a bag.

As you’re finished, you’re about to leave. » Satoru move.« you say and watch him not moving. He’s staying in the doorframe. » Y/n please, we can talk about. You know, like always when something bad happens.«

Your heart cracks a little more. Your sure you could hear it loud and clear in your ear. And if Satoru listened closely he could’ve heard it to. His words brought memories back to your mind.

How the two of you sat at a park bank together. The night sky filled with stars. He handed you his jacket as soon as he saw you were freezing. You talked about how scared you are because of his job. Because what if he wouldn’t come back one day.

This was your biggest fear. Getting a call from nanami. Telling you Gojo didn’t made it. He would never entered your house again or come to your bedroom to cuddle you. You were scared he wouldn’t comeback just for you to leave him now.

You take a deep breath. » No, there is nothing to talk about. You love her. Why would you want me to be in a one-sided relationship?—« you arch your eyebrow. »— You have two days to pack all of your shit, then I never want to see you again.«

This were your last words to him. Letting him stand there in silence while leaving him forever.

━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━━

| likes n reblogs r appreciated ! request always open !

#jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen #yn #x yn #anime #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #oneshot #angst #gojo x you #jujutsu gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo angst

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patricia-taxxon · 4 months

Text

synopsizing the movie that plays in my head every time i listen to nascent by alexander panos

this probably isn't as interesting to read as it is for me to imagine in my own head, but i wanted to write it down. maybe u will have fun imagining it too

1. Q Windswept

This is the intro to the album, you pretty much get every flavor of sound that the album has to offer in one short burst. This is the title sequence & opening credits, where all the nonexistent animators & vfx artists would go. I imagine big bunches of text popping into existence with each impact.

2. Cycles

This track is in a weird spot, it's the longest one & it was made much earlier. It sounds like it's in a different world, so I treat it as an establishing montage of the human world. We're introduced to the protagonist, who I'll call Alex for convenience but doesn't necessarily represent the real life producer behind the music, represented by a live action human actor for the time being. The track feels like writer's block, frustration, pounding on a desk, (the domp domp bit) pacing around the room, moments of existential fear in between the doldrums of solitude, the wubs and crashes are a transformation that is barely being held back. Twilight depression montage.

3. Sutter

Sutter begins the purely synthetic "internal" portion of the record. We enter a liminal/metaphorical space. Alex spasms and transforms into a 2D animated dog furry while floating far above a green field with too much synthetic blue in its hue. Huge wide shots of Alex's body flying backwards with the artificial landscape in the background, hitting with those massive manipulated vocal hits. The track ends with him slowing and coming to a gentle rest on the grass.

4. 36523_red/blue

Alex opens his eyes, sees only the pure "blue screen of death" shade of blue in the sky. Abstract glitches and squiggles zap across the screen in time with the music. Alex is beginning to ruminate, represented by him drawing patterns with his paws in the sky as the track begins to pick up a consistent tempo. The glitches and patterns are played with his fingers, building in intensity until the climax shows a vast mirror that fills the entire sky approaching rapidly, and then slowing, the dog boy in the reflection growing until it comes face to face with the viewer, and then a cut to black.

5. reasonsnotto

Lights are out, audio-reactive abstract animations shudder into being with the synthetic voice, warping and pulsing with the track's modulations. In the moments when Alex's real voice pokes through the synthetic mush, his dog form coalesces, still blurry and struggling to become fully contiguous until the very end, where Alex sings the album's thesis directly to the camera, against a pure black background.

6. Dream Extinction

He breaks the mirror here, the impacts are his fists striking the surface and releasing burning waves of fire and electricity. At the end, the part with the consistent bursts, he begins clawing at his reflection, screaming, seizure inducing flashing lights imply that this hurts him too. As the track calms down, the mirror disintegrates.

7. Equinox (Prelude)

This track begins the portion of the album that is trying to claw itself back into reality. He's not there yet, beyond the mirror Alex finds another liminal space, a primordial river, and as the track builds, more concrete images begin to flash into existence before crumbling again. He can't get out, he doesn't want to get out. He shields his eyes, cut to black.

8. Equinox

This is the bit where Alex says a poem to himself and runs back to reality with all his might. Emphasize the "You flake, you human life" line, he says it with gritted canine teeth and his doggy ears lowered, resolved to claw back to his humanity. After that exalted rush of light and color passes, he opens a door, and slams it behind him.

9. catch it

This track is resurfacing, coming back to reality. The synthetic glitches fall back completely, icons of a city street come into existence, populating the white void in time with those guitar chords. Alex isn't visible yet, but the images are revealed to be the view outside his window. The POV shot looks down, and he sees his human hands again.

10. re:Turning

Ok, this part is so cliched & shmaltzy that it makes me embarrassed to write it out, but there's only one conclusion this story can have. The glitches re-emerge, the synthetic elements that were previously contained come back again. It's his fur. The dog re-emerges, Alex transforms again like a magical girl before opening his front door & singing the final hook, walking through a live action environment with shapes and colors from his liminal space following him. The paradox is resolved. He is multitude.

thanks for reading.

#mini essay #cilantromixture #Alexander Panos

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whorediaries-09 · 11 months

Note

Helloo could I please request a fic with Sirius' girlfriend or wife taking care of him, making sure he eats enough and keeping him company, and him being touch-starved, in Grimmauld Place during OoTP? Thanks!

call it what you want

pairing- sirius black x wife!auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, fluff, touch sensitivity (let me know if i should add more) an- i love this plot so much, thank you dear anon! (also i love writing about post azkaban sirius black 😳) ps- requests are open! part two? 👺💅

masterlist

'hey love?' you called out. sirius held a cigarette between his pale pink lips blowing out smoke out of his mouth. he turned his head, looking at you when he heard your voice. but your eye's weren't fixated on his, but the ash tray that held burnt out cigarettes he'd been smoking when you'd been gone. he sat on the moth eaten sofa his tired gray eyes trying to meet yours. you sigh, flinging your bag on a chair as you walk towards him, wiping your brow with the hem of your sleeve.

'have you eaten anything dear?' you say as you sit beside him. you sit close to him, but not close enough to touch him. he grumbles something under his breath and you squint your eyes trying to decipher what he is saying.

'sirius?' you say. your hand twitches. you want to touch him, comfort him, but you're scared it will trigger him. you're scared he won't like that. you want to comfort him, it breaks your heart seeing the dignity of your husband, of the love of your life crumbling down but it doesn't matter. you want him to feel safe. you want him to feel comfortable around you till he is comfortable enough to let him touch you.

his body twitches slightly before he whispers, 'might have had a few sandwiches. i forgot,'

you raise an eyebrow. interlinking your hands together so you don't accidentally touch him, you say with a soft yet firm tone,

'and water? what about water? did you drink enough?'

'i do not remember,' he grumbles. he's twitchy and shifty while he speaks. you let out a deep breath before you conjure a glass of water and hand it to sirius.

'love can you drink this for me? please?' you inquire. his stormy gray eyes stare into yours before his hands clasp around the glass of water. he lets the rim of the glass touch his lips before slowly sipping the water. he gulps down the rest of the water and puts the glass on the table before offering you a weak smile. you smile back, furrowing your eyebrows. you see his hands twitching before he speaks again,

'i found some old polaroids,'

'did you now love?'

'yes...'

there's a silence that hangs in the air that tortures the depth of your heart but you don't break it. you don't want to pressure him into saying anything. you don't want him to feel like what his image in the wizarding world is. you don't want to ask him prying questions.

'can i hold your hand?' he whispers softly. you look at him. his dark raven locks frame his diamond cut face, the churning wood of the flames reflecting the depth of his stormy gray irises.

'are you sure?' you question back. he nods his head curtly before his pinky finger intertwines with yours. he smiles, his hollow cheeks spreading as you interlock your hands. his hand is the same as you could remember, rough, calloused and warm. you feel his body grow stiff at the contact and you try to pry your palm away but he holds it firmer. he holds your hand firm, slowly melting by your touch. he doesn't say anything, and neither do you.

you charm a flower on his ear, tucking his messy curls behind his ear. you smile noticing the crinkles of his eyes when he smiles, leaning into your touch. his nose scrunches and you think, he looks majestic.

it's a storm outside. however when he leans his head on your shoulder, the storm simmers away. it's warm inside as the both of your hearts burn with love for each other.

'i love you dove,' he whispers.

#sirius x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black #marauders #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #sirius being sirius #sirius black one shot #sirius black x oc #sirius orion black #sirius black ootp #order of the phoenix #post azkaban sirius #autumn's inbox

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actual-changeling · 3 months

Text

i think about the fact that crowley went through with his confession despite everything at least once a day, so have a ficlet where he doesn't.

edit: you can now find this fic on ao3 right here

———

"If I'm in charge… I can make a difference."

For a second, everything stops. The noise disappears, the world blurs and fades, his body grows numb while he desperately clings to the breath inside his lungs. He is suffocating, he must be, words are blocking his throat, and this—this can't be.

After everything they went through for six thousand years, after countless of heaven's cruelties, after ropeburn on Aziraphale's wrists before stepping into a spiral of hellfire, the mere thought of his angel returning to heaven seemed like a laughable impossibility. There are choices the world makes for one, and this had been one of them; live as a traitor, as an exile, but live.

A life lived in freedom, shared, and cherished.

Aziraphale wouldn't go back. He wouldn't.

Crowley could have sworn he never would, and yet here they are, mouths open, judgements spoken, and still alive.

"Oh."

Air rushes out of him and takes the tension with it, dragging him back to full consciousness and leaving him with tremors in his hands and tears in his eyes.

"Right."

Reflexively, he turns around, hyperaware of his uncovered eyes, and the confession is still humming in the back of his mind. He wouldn't, he thinks again and again and again, he wouldn't, he wouldn't.

But he did. The grandfather clock stares him down, a hint of gold reflected back at him, and his joints ache when he pries his glasses out of his fist and puts them on. A familiar shadow falls over the world, taking all the colour with it, and Crowley suddenly feels very, very cold.

"Crowley?"

A hesitant step towards him, then another, and his skin burns, his fingers shake, as the carefully cultivated sprout of hope in his chest dies oh so slowly.

He wouldn't, whispers the voice again, crumbling like a brittle leaf crushed in Aziraphale's fist.

He would. He did, another gives back, and he knows this, too, knows it with the taste of resignation on his tongue.

Crowley faces Aziraphale simply to stop him from coming any closer, gritting his teeth when he sees the confused irritation greeting him. Surprised—Aziraphale is surprised that he does not want to come with him.

Six thousand years, the tiny voice weakly offers, six thousand years, and this is the reward.

Crowley wants to rip his confession out of his throat and offer it to him, he wants to throw it up onto the floor and never see it again, he wants to grab Aziraphale's shoulders and shake him because, why, why would you think I want this? Why would you do this?

Why are you leaving me?

He wants to break his ribs and pull them apart so he can kill his heart with his own hand, and it is falling, it is burning, it is grace leaving him as everything he thought he knew dissipated and vanished among the stars. Maybe some pieces of himself will stay behind in the dust, marking his presence, marking an absence.

"Good luck," Crowley says flatly, not recognising himself, not seeing or hearing, and as he begins to walk away, a high-pitched ringing settles in his ears. Love is a stone sinking to the bottom of his stomach, it is his ribs splintered and sharp, cutting him open from the inside out. Maybe the worst part is that it is not entirely unexpected—after all, why would he keep telling himself that Aziraphale would never return to heaven if there were no fundamental belief that he would?

"Good luck? Crowley! Crowley, come back, to—"

A hand wraps around his wrist like heated iron, and he can barely bite back the strangled sound escaping him at the contact, wrenching his arm out of Aziraphale's grip; he doesn't turn around.

"Don't."

Not a command, no, a plea, a prayer, a finish line, the ending to a game he always hated playing; love, sure, in the good moments, during the good times.

Now it simply hurts—hollow and heavy—and if he looks at him, he will tell him; he will tell him all of it and more. He will try to make him change his mind despite knowing it is hopeless, yet he cannot help but feel as if this is a frozen moment right before the guillotine blade falls.

Judgement day, for better or for worse.

Crowley could linger, could meet tear-stained cheeks and blue irises, could fall to his knees and beg him to stay, but none of it would be able to fix the rift opening between them. Six thousand years, and for the very first time since Eden, Aziraphale is a stranger to him. The blade will have to come down eventually, and maybe they have been staving off the inevitable; maybe it is for the best.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Crowley gathers the fragmented shards of himself and holds them tight. Then he makes a choice and whispers a goodbye into the silence, numbly making his way through the bookshop, across the street, into the Bentley, and all the way back to his flat.

Sometimes things are better left unsaid.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens ficlet

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celtic-crossbow · 6 months

Text

It’s a Loud and Dark World, but I Think I Found the Light

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (Saviors Era)

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, allusions to mental health battles, light angst

Summary: You’ll always be there to call him back.

A/N: I’m not feeling very okay right now. This isn’t as angsty as I thought it could be. I just wasn’t ready to go there with it. Anyway, fanfic writing as therapy is a thing.

“Daryl.” You said his name calmly, quietly. He wasn’t all present, lost in a desperation that you could see shaking his frame. The handgun he was still brandishing visibly trembled, aiming at nothing. He had killed them all.

But not before they had hurt you.

You had watched all circumspection fade the moment he burst into the warehouse to find you on the floor, bruised but no worse for wear. His blue eyes burned like the hottest flame, firing shot after shot long after the last man fell and the clip was empty. His gaze had dulled, his mind undoubtedly trapping him with the Saviors again.

That vacant stare remained.

“Hey.” You placed a hand on his shoulder but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t look at you. You needed to bring him back. Slowly. Carefully. Your hand traveled from his shoulder, sliding down his arm as you took deliberate steps forward. “It’s okay. I’m here. We’re safe. You saved me.” When you made it to his wrist, you allowed the opposite hand to wrap around the barrel while you gently worked his fingers open.

His eyes finally focused to search you out. It took longer than it should have for him to find you, though you stood so closely. The gun now free, you flicked on the safety and then shoved the firearm into the back of your jeans.

“You saved me.” You repeated, stepping in front of him after he allowed his arm to drop to his side. You placed your hands against his chest, eyes flickering down to the bullet wound on his right flank. He wasn’t even feeling it. “I need you with me, Daryl. Are you with me?”

He stared for a moment longer and then cleared his throat. “M’with ya.”

Your hands slowly slid up to his shoulders, finding him pliant enough to be pulled into an embrace. He didn’t respond at first but you continued to hold on until you finally felt his arms encircle you. Petite fingers combed through his hair.

“I want you to leave this here.” He pulled back, expression equal parts sadness and fear. “Everything you felt. What you did. What you had to do. Leave it here in this warehouse. Will you do that for me?”

“Y/N, I—”

“No. They can’t have you.” Your hands went to his face. “They tried to break you and they couldn’t. Do you hear me? They could not break you. They do not get a single second more of you.” Your heart clenched as he began to crumble. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

There was a moment of hesitation. His eyes slid up toward the scene behind you but never made it before finding your face again. With a nod that was barely there, he allowed you to steer him toward the broken doors.

Thank god, he hadn’t brought the bike. You could drive it but would have worried that he wouldn’t be present enough to hold on. The beat up sedan worked just fine.

He went into the passenger seat without argument, staring at his lap once inside. He even put his hand over the wadded up flannel you pressed against his wound. You were already inside and had the car started before he seemed to realize you were there. With one hand on the wheel and the other firmly holding his between the seats, you began the drive back.

Negan and the Saviors hadn’t broken Daryl, but you were going to make them pay for ever thinking they could even try.

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priceyprice · 6 months

Text

Prof!Price sitting down on his couch, watching through the window the heavy rain and the upcoming storm. He lifts his glass of bourbon to his lips, drinking a little and feeling the burning sensation trailing down his throat.

But that's nothing compared to the burn he has on his chest.

Price can't stop thinking if the decision he made about breaking up with her was the best. Yes, she's an adult and she's very capable of a lot of things, but for fuck's sake, she's his student. That's so dangerous.

If he's being honest, he doesn't care about his career as a professor. He already made a lot of things he wanted (not all of them since he hasn't proposed to her yet. That's one of his dreams.), he already made his career and pursued his future, but she’s just only starting hers.

She's studying so hard and giving all her will to the things she loves. He can't risk her passion and her career just for his selfish needs.

Selfish needs called love for her.

A week ago, one of the superiors found out that a professor had a relationship with a student. They fired the professor and expelled the student, her record being damaged with a warning of an inappropriate relationship with one of her professors.

Since then, Price couldn't stop thinking about his situation. If one of the superiors finds out about their relationship, everything's going to be over for her.

So he did what he thought was the best. Breaking up with her.

He called her to his office this morning, anxiety creeping up to his veins. When she stepped inside, his heart stopped for a moment. She looked so beautiful with her dress and her smile adorned with some blush over her cheeks. The sparkle in her beautiful eyes looked like The Starry Night.

He felt so guilty. He doesn't want to break up with her. Fuck, no. He was already planning how to propose to her when she graduates.

"Let's break up," he said without going around the bush. Direct, cold, and fast. Finally, he did it. He was going to end things with her for good.

But when he saw the look in her eyes, his world crumbled. She looked confused at first, but she realized what he said. The pain flashed within a second.

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's break up."

Since then, he couldn't get that burning feeling off his chest.

That void.

Now, he needs to get used to not hearing her giggles anymore or seeing her smile. Seeing how she walked in his apartment with only his shirt on. How his heart fluttered every time she kissed him. How soft was her skin. How she gasped his name every time he was pleasuring her.

Now he needs to get used to loneliness because he's pretty sure he can't find someone like her. He doesn't want anyone like her. He just wants her.

In the midst of his loneliness, three knocks grabbed his attention.

His eyebrows frown as he looks to the door. Who could it be at this hour? Maybe it's one of the tenants complaining about something again.

One time, when he was with his lover, one of the tenants knocked on the door to ask if he had water since there was an accident leaving a few tenants without water. He opened his door a little too wide, and the tenant caught a glimpse of the beautiful woman sitting on his couch, looking at them with confusion. Since then, the rumors about the hot and reserved professor having a beautiful girlfriend started.

Price slowly stood up from his chair and walked to his door. He turned serious. It could be an intruder trying to fool him.

Getting closer to the door, he looked through the peephole. His eyes widened in shock when he saw who it was.

It was her.

Price unlocked the door and opened it. His heart stopped for a second. Is his mind really playing tricks with him? Is he really seeing correctly? Maybe he needed a new prescription of glasses.

She looks up to his eyes. Every suspicion of her being a product of his imagination vanished like thin air.

There she was, standing in front of him. She was real.

"What are you doi-"

"We...We need to t-talk," she said, shivering. His eyes took a look over her figure, realizing she's drenched in water.

His face changed into one of worry. "Oh my God, love. You're freezing, come here." He grabbed her arm and took her inside his apartment, closing the door behind her. She exhaled a little, feeling the familiar coziness his apartment always gave to her. Even though she really loved that, she was not here for that.

He turned around and started to walk, "Stay here and take off your clothes. I'll be looking for a towel and one of your clothes in my drawe-"

"No."

He stopped.

Turning around slowly, he looked at her with confusion. Only to see anger in her eyes.

Oh. Right. They broke up.

He was so used to taking care of her that he almost forgot that detail just a second ago.

Price closed his eyes, sighing. "Look, I-"

"We need to talk." His eyes snapped open at her words. He could feel how his heart was beating heavy at his chest with her tone.

Her freezing body was now going back to its normal temperature, thanks to the anger consuming her.

"My love, calm do -"

"Fuck, don't call me that! And don't tell me to calm down when it was you who broke up with me without any explanation!" She said taking a step closer to him, drenching his floor with water, but both of them couldn't care less.

"I've been nothing but good to you! I've been a good student, a good friend, and mostly, I've been a good lover! I think I deserve a fucking explanation!" She's now standing in front of him, pointing at him with her index finger. "And I want to hear it now, John. Why are you breaking up with me?"

His heart started to beat faster with every step she took. Emotions are still alive and fresh, consuming every fiber in his body and reminding him who those feelings belong to. But what kept him down on his feet was her eyes. She looked so angry, so... hurt. And it's caused by him.

"I don't want to explain it. Please, let's just get you a towel and dry y-"

"Are you cheating on me? Did you find another student?"

"What? No!" He looked at her with his eyes wide and brows frown. There's no way in hell, heaven or earth he would've done such a thing. He preferred to die before cheating on her.

"Then why are you breaking up with me, John?!"

Price just wants to take everything back and tell her it's his fault. He wants to tell her that everything's going to be alright, take her in his arms, and continue his future with her. But he can't risk her future. If he tells her the risk and the consequences of their relationship, she would've ignored it and never left him. He knows her. He knows how much she loves him.

He needs to forget her. She needs to forget him and continue her life. And he's going to do so.

"Because I don't l-..." He sighed, trying to find the courage to resist his emotions and not spell the truth. "Because I don't love you anymore."

Her body froze. Her mouth hung open while she looked at him with her big expressive eyes. Her heart stopped for a few seconds. She's trying to process his words.

He doesn't... love her anymore?

She doesn't believe him. A few moments ago, he was calling her his love. And he wasn't looking at her.

Price is known for his confidence and the way he intimidates people with his electrifying blue eyes. But he wasn't looking at her right now.

So that means one thing, he's lying. She thought.

"You're lying."

His face went up. "No."

She laughs. "Yes, you are. You're not looking at me. You're lying."

He can't look at her. She's too good at reading him, and he's scared she's gonna find the real reason for his breakup.

But of course, she found out he was lying. She's a smart girl.

She's his smart girl.

"No, Look Lo-..." He closed his mouth, swallowing the word. "Look, I'm not lying. I don't love you anymore. Everything's over. We are over."

The strings of her heart were being cut off one by one.

No.

She doesn't want to believe him. He loves her. She's sure of it. She just needs to prove it.

He can't leave her like this.

So she took a step closer to him and smashed her lips with his.

Price looks shocked for a second, processing what was happening. His heart started to gain those familiar warm emotions again, racing like it was gasoline.

But on his mind was a voice screaming at him.

It was a trap.

She's testing him.

He couldn't make the same mistake again and start from zero, so with all his willpower, he grabbed her arms and pushed away, making her stumble in her feet. She looks at him wide-eyed into his eyes, only realizing the cold look. She saw emptiness, not even sadness or madness. Nothing.

He felt nothing.

Tears escaped, rolling down her cheek, and he almost, almost, lifted his hand up and wiped the tears away. Price hates it when she cries. He can't stand looking at her beautiful eyes glossy and teary, and of course, he hates it more when he makes her cry.

Fuck, this is going to be difficult.

Her breathing was faster each second. Her heart was so heavy on her chest that it felt like it was going to get out of her ribcage. Sadness starts to consume every cell in her body. "So you used me, right?! You... You got what you wanted. You get to bed one of your students, have fun with her, and then toss her like some piece of garbage?!"

He swallowed hard, but nothing could calm down his storm of emotions. The inner war he's having with himself.

Love,

"That's right..."

Please

"I used you."

I love you so much.

"I don't love you anymore. I never did."

I will never let you go.

"So get out of my house and my life."

I will remember you, my love.

"We're done."

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Just a little idea, and I'm sorry for a few crying hearts.

This is my second post, which I'm kinda new on this app. I apologize for some errors or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated. 🫶

#task force 141 #john price #john price x reader #call of duty #captain price #141 x reader #price #cod 141 #cod mw2

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sixzeroes · 1 year

Text

walltalk.

summary | na jaemin has always been the bane of your existence—but he’s also been the centre of your sexual desires.

characters | villain!jaemin x hero!reader(f).

genres | smut, pwnp, bnha au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, brief description of blood, jaemin talks about murdering reader, slight hostage situation, sex, rough sex?, mentions of blowjob, use of ‘princess,’ giselle (and ten) lowkey cockblocking at the end.

word count | 2.2k.

so, this was actually posted on one of my old accounts before i decided to delete that and move here without anyone knowing. it did get around 400 notes, so if you recognise this, i am the original writer of it!! i don’t associate myself with that account or pseudonym anymore, but i just couldn’t let this one sit in my files so yeah :))

YOU CAN’T DIE YET.

It’s too early to bid goodbye to the world. There are many things you’ve yet to experience, and millions of people cheering you on. You still need to reach the number one spot. You still need to watch the new Disney movie releasing next week. You still need to try out the mint chocolate fusion that’s been the craze the past few days. You still need to travel to Greece and admire the Athena Parthenon. You still need to—

Bottom line is, there’s hundreds of thousands of reasons as to why your life must be prolonged. You’re a heroine, and your career has just begun.

No, you truly can’t die yet.

But Na Jaemin seems to think the opposite.

The room—prison—you’re confined to is dark, only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the barred window. In the middle of the room stands a chair, a blond man sitting with his chest against the back. His arms cross over the top rail, one foot tapping against the ground in a rather erratic rhythm. His all-too-familiar smile is terrifying, and you resist shuddering under his wicked gaze.

“Maybe I’ll slit your throat,” he muses, watching your every action. Ice forms along his hand, creating a claw-like silhouette in the dim light. You gulp, a little intimidated by his power.

“As if I’d let you,” you huff, sharpening your glower to prove his presence isn’t feared. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

That’s a huge lie. Both you and Jaemin know it. The blonde laughs at your revelation, the ice melting off of his skin. It hits the ground—drip, drip—and forms a puddle at his feet. “Your courage hasn’t changed, Y/N, but neither has the gap between you and I. You may be dubbed a strong hero, but you know better than everyone that you can’t beat me.”

He hasn’t stabbed you yet, but the harsh reality of his words burn a humiliating pain in your heart.

“What use is strength if your intelligence can’t keep up?” you sneer, referring to your high school era just like he had. “Don’t forget, you were always second to me in every theoretical exam.”

You barely flinch when an icicle crumbles against the wall beside your head. The skin over your left cheekbone breaks apart into a cut, a thin stream of blood tracing the curve of your face. Jaemin tosses the chair away, the loud bang leaving a ringing in your ears. He’s mad, and it’s because of you.

You can’t die yet, but you’re about to.

Fuck. All because you refused to follow Ten’s suicidal mission. Well, it’s not like yours isn’t life-threatening either, but there’s less lives getting claimed.

“You know, you always pissed me off,” growls Jaemin, crouching in front of you. Even though he’s left you untied, you make no move to attack him in hopes of escaping. And that’s the thing—you can’t escape, and you know. He knows. Na Jaemin is too strong for you to outrun.

You spit, “The feeling’s mutual.”

There’s no way you and Jaemin could ever get along with each other, much less develop feelings opposite to the word hate. In high school, it was always a battle between the two of you. Na Jaemin—first in practical exams, second in theoretical. And you—first in theoretical exams, second in practical. To be frank, the two of you would’ve been a formidable pair if it wasn’t for his egoistic attitude and your competitive personality. If it was doubtful then, it’s impossible now.

After all, Jaemin’s become the very villain he once wished to eradicate.

“I saw you on television, all your interviews, the blurry cuts of you fighting. Made me wanna wipe that stupid smile off of your fucking face.”

The rivalry between you and Jaemin wasn’t unnoticed by your peers during the three years of high school. But what most failed to detect was the sexual tension that brimmed beneath the surface of the enmity.

“I saw you too, on Wanted posters.” you hiss, wiping the blood on your cheek. It’s a little dried. “Looking all smug for a hero turned evil.”

Jaemin chuckles, prodding his inner cheek with his tongue. He looks to the side, then he glares straight into your eyes. “What can I say? The criminals are less corrupt than the righteous hero industry.” The blond man mimics quotation marks with his hand at the word righteous. “You, too, are a waste as a hero. Why don’t you join me? Wipe the damn system and build a new one from scratch. Doyoung doesn’t bite, you know. He likes pretty girls like you. I do, too.”

You don’t retaliate with phrases that glorify the hero industry. Jaemin’s right, albeit you refuse to outright acknowledge it. Instead, you snap, “Fuck you.”

He licks his lips. “Is that consent?”

Yes. “No.”

Your head jerks backwards as Jaemin grabs your face with force, a throb lingering from the impact against the wall. His fingers dig into your cheeks, thumb dipped in your drying blood. Your hands grip his forearm and he tugs you forwards, decreasing the proximity between his face and yours. It’s faint, but a peach scent surrounds the man.

Jaemin runs his thumb against your lips, and a metallic taste overrides your senses. “I’ll ask again, Y/N. Is”—he parts your lips with the push of his thumb—“that”—his nail grazes your tongue—“consent?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Before you can release the entire breath, his hand wraps around your throat in a rough yet careful choke. With brute strength, Jaemin lifts you onto your feet, your knees buckling at the sudden exertion. There’s no time to adjust as his lips latch onto yours, snagging whatever oxygen you have left. He’s always been impatient, and even during foreplay, he shows no patience.

Your heavy pants fill the silence as he devours your lips, his tongue sliding against your tongue. Your lips that were chapped are now moist, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips. His empty hand situates itself on your hip, and you gasp when he runs it up under your shirt.

“Would’ve been sexier if you had your flimsy costume on,” he muttered against your lips. “Always wanted to strip you of that red abomination.”

“Sh—Shut up,” you groan, his hand grasping your breast. Your eyes flutter when he pushes aside your bra and pinches your nipple. The act leaves your core throbbing, aching for more. “Fuck, finger me.”

Jaemin kisses your chin. “If you blow me after, sure.”

You make the effort to glare at him. “I fucking hate y—oh.” Your jaw slacks as he shoves the hand on your neck into the warmth of your underwear, knuckles grazing the damp fabric.

“So wet, princess,” he jeers, using the nickname you loathed during the start of your youth. “I wonder who you’re so aroused for?”

“Jeno, obviously,” you scoff, and Jaemin pulls away from you, his touch leaving your skin. “Wh—hey!”

The blonde distances himself from you, licking his fingers clean of your essence. “Hm?” he hums, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not about to fuck a girl who’s got another man’s name on her mind.”

You lean against the wall for support. “Holy fuck, you’re so lame.”

“Run to Jeno, then.”

Fuck. You swallow his saliva from the messy kiss, and with it, your pride. “Shit. Fine, I’m sorry. Can you fuck me now? I’ll even suck your dick.”

Jaemin beams, and it has your pussy dripping. “Of course! Since my princess asked so nicely,” he sings, daintily taking your hands in his. Your heart stutters as he places gentle kisses along your knuckles, and then the pad of your fingers. It’s sweet, until he throws your hands up and restrains them against the wall with ice.

“How pretty,” he muses, trailing his pointer finger down your cheek. Jaemin bunches your shirt and bra so it sits atop your chest, revealing your bare breasts. You shiver from the chill, but are warmed right away when his hands roam your torso. A gasp rips from your throat when the man teases your pants down, sliding two long fingers into your cunt. Soft and shaky moans tumble from your lips, prompting Jaemin to move his fingers. His thumb—the blood clad one—circles your clit, fingers pulsing in and out of you with ease. He’s cruel, dragging the tip of his digits against the soft flesh of your walls.

As Jaemin fingers you, he seals your lips with his once again in a breathless kiss. Your tongue meshes with his, teeth clashing every so often. One hand returns to your neck, laying at the base in a tough hold. “Oh—” you mewl, “I’m so—”

Jaemin removes his fingers, and you fall limp, the restraints preventing you from crumpling to the floor. Your mind is hazy, but you manage to say, “You’re such a bitch.”

“Mhm, I am, princess.” he coos, unbuckling the belt looped around his jeans. Like you, he’s in casual attire, having dressed in civilian clothing when kidnapping you in the mall. He unzips the fly, head thrown back as he frees his hard dick. You whimper, biting your lower lip at the sight. “Aren’t you so honest?”

“Fuck,” you groan, touch-deprived. “It’s huge.”

“Can you make a condom?” he asks, slapping his length against your bare stomach. The precum smears all over your pretty skin. “I didn’t bring one, and I’d rather not get you pregnant.”

Jaemin’s either dumb or clever for relying on you to whip out protection. But you obey, formulating a packaged condom with whatever lipids left in your body. It pops out of your arm, and Jaemin catches it with a lopsided grin. He rips the packet open with his teeth, tossing the foil aside whilst rolling the plastic over his dick. You watch, counting down the seconds until he’s inside.

“Are you ready?” he whispers, lips grazing your ear.

“…Yes.”

Your answer is all he needs as he pushes into you, easily slipping in with the help of your lubrication. You release a shaky moan, eyes rolling back from pure pleasure. Jaemin hauls one of your legs over his bicep, and he catches your face in his hand. Your lustful gaze meets his, and you feel a thrill run down your spine at the look in his eyes.

He’s hungry—sex hungry, and you’re his doll to ruin.

Slowly, Jaemin pulls out before thrusting, the tip of his dick prodding your cervix. You cry out, hitting the ice wrapped around your wrists. Over and over and over again, Jaemin pounds into you, groaning the dirtiest words as does. Your back hits the wall every time his hips meet yours, but the pain drowns in the plethora of pleasure.

“So tight,” he rasps, speed increasing by the second. “You feel so, so fucking good.”

“Ah, oh my—god,” you whine, chasing his lips. He grants you a kiss, and you murmur, “Harder, fuck me harder.”

Challenges are a way to rile Jaemin up, and it seems he’s taken your plea as one. The villain grips your thighs as he lets out a low, guttural growl. He thrusts faster, at a speed you can’t comprehend. You’re seeing stars, tasting stars, in an absolute bliss no writer can describe. Jaemin stutters each time you clench around his dick, your pussy sending him into overdrive.

“Hey, cum for me.” he mutters, biting your lower lip.

You pant, running out of breath. “I’m close,” you chant, relishing the way his entire length fits inside of you. You beg, “Please—please don’t stop.”

“Keep asking.”

“Finish me off, Jaemin,” you moan. “I’m so close!”

Jaemin reaches for the restraints, melting them with his left hand. In one swift motion, he turns you so your cheek lays flat against the wall, ass out for him to see. He whistles, fondling the soft flesh. Your mewls don’t stop, spilling endlessly as he continues to slam into you.

“Jaemin!” you cry, clenching around his dick. “Close—close—so close—”

“Let it out, princess.”

And you do, orgasming with his dick still inside. You whimper when he keeps thrusting, chasing his high while simultaneously overstimulating you. Your mind is hazy when he draws his dick out, the condom full of his cum. Support is gone as Jaemin backs away, and you fall to the ground, recovering from the wild fuck you just had.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve come on your face,” he mutters, fixing his pants. Shirtless, he crouches so his eyes are parallel to yours. “You good?”

You spit and it lands on his chin. “I’m still trapped, asshole.”

“If you blow me—”

His words are cut short when the window explodes, the building crumbling from the impact. Both you and Jaemin glance over to the gaping hole in the wall, a confused Giselle standing atop the debris. She scans your half-naked body, then his lack of shirt, and analyzes the scene in no time.

“Ten! They fucked!”

A snicker flies from Jaemin’s lips as he tosses his shirt back on, ruffling his blond hair in amusement. The man glimpses Giselle’s preoccupied state and looks back at you. With a wink, he says, “I’ll contact you for that blowjob. Later, princess.”

You simply blink as he runs off, escaping before he’s forced to engage in a (tedious) fight. When reality hits you and your mind registers his words, a disturbed scowl settles on your face.

You can’t die yet.

And for now, Na Jaemin seems to think the same as he hints at an upcoming rendezvous.