#fleeting-sanity

[aerinfrankellove]

Do I start trying to transcribe Boston press conferences

[crypticcatalys]

I managed to download over 5k of my saved tik toks before everything stopped, so there is a 80% chance that all 500+ videos in my avatar folder are somewhere in my new unorganized flash drive file.

[why-bless-your-heart]

Got some coffee and looked at some water and now I’m sane. 👍

[builtbybrokenbells]

i am thinking unspeakable things rn.

[viciouslyfilthy]

I may or may not be considering adding a canon-divergent Frollo as a muse where he's cursed as a result of his crimes against humanity and is now an awassi sheep-snake bestial monstrosity; any repressed desires he may have had before, like lust, now spring out like being on a trampoline.

I blame character ai for this I went in too deep and now I have a new furry oc made out of one of my fave villains smiles

[theshiftinghalls]

Spirit of the Law by @fleeting-sanity, with thanks.

Basilah Reeves is a former county sheriff, forced out when she refused to enforce an unjust legal system. She took her skills and became a private investigator, trying to protect her community from all who preyed on it, with or without a badge.

Then, the Star came, imbuing her with strange mystical powers. And a wardrobe upgrade. More than ever, she now enforces the Spirit of the Law, and never its letter.

Equipment: Fiery horse with the speed of light, badge that activates the transformation (shades of the Galaxy Rangers), two six shooters that can stun or injure (usually stun), longcoat of flames that responds a bit to mental commands even if only to Look Cool.

Basic Spirit of Vengeance/Ghost Rider style character, with a venue chosen by the players.

I... am the Law.

[swtorramblings]

Sin Eater Machinist by @fleeting-sanity.

This was actually an attempt to draw a TTRPG superhero I am planning on playing in a game at some point in the future, loosely based on the Marvel character Night Rider (the original, though, not the one that drugged Mockingbird). We agreed (I think) she didn't work this way, but this version made me think of FFXIV and that horrid place, so now we have a new Cardinal Virtue.

As if that world weren't already enough of a mess.

[starrycherie]

need to write a 1500 word essay and it's killing me

[wickedzeevyln]

Still

How quickly your smile has flown away eloping with flocks of saffron sunsets; Pilfering the earth of its spring iut of memories reach. Hope has done but little to palliate the grief Where you voice has not touched, and this longing has been scourging peace until my sanity, I no longer trust.

[mihanisms]

endurance test

— you decide to spoil your boyfriend by riding him stuuupiddd :p

— sub zayne, use of "mistress", overstimulation, mindbreak, zayne eventually goes into subspace, biting kink, nipple play

The remaining sanity that your boyfriend was trying to preserve crumbled the moment you pressed his body deeper into the mattress, grinding your pussy onto him for what felt like the hundredth time. The slick that was dripping between your legs, a mixture of your juices from the rounds you had pushed him through, made every movement of yours effortless, your pussy clamping down on him and making him see stars as a strangled moan leaves his throat.

"Love, I think- I thinhaah! are you still n-not-" His cock throbs as you grind down in a particularly harsh manner, cutting off any of his protests. "Not satisfied? Of course not - you can still talk, honey." Your voice was sweet and teasing, yet your actions were anything but, your hands sliding over his torso and finding his nipples, the two pink buds perky and cold to the touch.

Watching his flushed face intently, you start to pinch and pull at his buds, the sudden gesture causing his eyes to roll back and his body to jerk into you, a high-pitched whine slipping past him before he could stop himself. Spurred on by his reaction, you pull harder, causing tears to well up at the corners of your doctor's eyes.

"I-It's too much, please it's too seehns'tive-!" Zayne's words were barely coherent at this point, his words slurred together as he cries and sniffles at all the sensations overwhelming him, from your pussy bullying his cock to your fingers rolling over his nipples and your heated gaze that wanted nothing but to see him driven to ruin - it was all too much, and the doctor found himself orgasming again, spurt after spurt of cum painting your walls and dripping down from you to his thighs.

The tears that he was just barely holding earlier were now spilling onto his red cheeks as broken sobs fell from his lips—pleas for mercy that completely contradicted how he remained rock-hard inside you. A condescending smirk curls up at your lips as your fingers trail up from his chest up to his jaw, tracing it lightly. Your voice dips into something low and sultry, amusement dancing in your heated gaze. "Your words say one thing and your dick says another....Now, I just don't know what to do."

Zayne, parting his lips to reply, gets cut off by a choked whine as you abruptly halt your movements. His teary eyes focus in on your self-satisfied smirk and hooded eyes. Fuck. He knew that look.

Your still-teasing fingers slide back down to toy with his oversensitive nipples, gentler this time but enough to pull a shaky breath from him. "I’ve gotta say, honey….If you really want me to stop because you can’t take anymore, well, I guess I have to respect my sweet doctor’s wishes."

His breath hitches and his expression falls, but he knew he had it coming with all the mindless babbles leaving him throughout the whole session. It only hits him how far you wanted to take it when you slowly start to lift yourself off his cock, a small whimper leaving him as his hands instantly move to your hips to stop you, a pleading look in his eyes. "I...I..." He starts out, the words catching in his throat.

"You….You....You what, Zay?"Your voice is thick with amusement, his hesitance deepening at the smirk on your face. "You have to use your words." To punctuate your statement, you roll your hips, letting the remainder of him inside you feel that brief, fleeting pleasure and earning yourself yet another wobbly gasp of your name.

For a few agonizing moments, his mouth opens and closes, nothing coming out—until he finally caves, his voice barely above a whisper.

"...Please." His fingers dig into your skin, his resolve crumbling entirely. "Keep on riding me…until I can’t think."

His admission brings a wicked grin to your face, one that the doctor knew only spelled ruin for him. Before he could brace himself, you slam your hips down onto his, changing your rhythm from slow, teasing grinds to an eager and relentless pace, your slick pussy easily moving up and down his cock as he writhes beneath you.

This time, his thoughts truly scatter, lost in the overwhelming pleasure of your movements, your voice, and the way you looked at him as you rode his cock—like he was nothing but a pretty toy for you to use.

And oh, that turned him on.

Small pleas and whimpers for more left him like he had never protested against you in the first place. He lets himself get fucked into oblivion, relishing in everything you so generously give him. In between his moans and mumbles of pleasure, a singular word leaves him that lets you know he'd fully given up control.

"Mistress...!"

That one desperate cry of your title sends heat flooding through you, your desire surging into overdrive. One of your hands slide from his chest to his abdomen, steadying yourself as you lean down, biting into the flushed skin of his neck. His breath hitches and breaks into tiny, high-pitched mewls, his hips jerking up instinctively to push deeper into you.

He was beautiful like this.

Wanting more of his delicious sounds, you keep your teeth against his skin, sinking in just enough to leave a mark—something for him to wear long after this was over. When you finally pull away, Zayne lets out a soft hic, his hazy, tear-filled eyes locking onto yours with a look of longing…and unmistakable desire.

You open your mouth to tease him about it, but before you can, he surprises you—his voice needy and utterly wrecked as he stumbles over his words. "M-Miss...please, I- ah-! N-Need more, want t' be marked-"

Even as his consciousness crumbles, his desires remain clear. He knew exactly what he wanted from you now, and he wasn’t afraid to beg for it with each of his shameless moans and hips that were desperately meeting yours with every thrust.

Unable to deny your lover's desperate plea, you bite down, canines marking him as yours once more. Your tongue follows, soothing over the fresh wound, and causing Zayne to break off into a series of fast-paced cries. His body trembles as pleasure courses through his veins, a whimper of gratitude escaping him and sobs wracking his body as he cums, filling you up again and sending a wave of bliss through you, your cunt fluttering in the tell-tale sign of orgasm to seal both your fates.

"....Cumming just from a bite? Oh honey, you really are gone, aren't you?" You receive no answer but Zayne's flushed face, tear-streaked cheeks, and violent hiccups of pleasure let you know exactly what he would have said, anyways. He was completely spent. Yet you keep moving, using his cock to chase the last of your high.

When you finally reach your peak, your body tenses, shuddering through the aftershocks. Even then, you don't pull away, merely slowing to a gentle grind as you catch your breath. By now, Zayne was barely conscious, a hazy look in his eyes as his body twitches from the overstimulation. He weakly attempts to pull away, not wanting to keep his cum in you for too long but you push him right back down, a soft snort of amusement breaking free from you.

"Don't worry about it, honey. Let me stay like this for a little while, alright?" He only whines reluctantly in response but makes no further moves to resist. Instead, he simply lies there, his body spent, mind floating.

As the minutes pass, the heavy rise and fall of Zayne’s chest gradually even out, though the occasional aftershock still runs through his arms or legs. His hands that were gripping you so desperately now rest limply, his fingers twitching with the lingering echoes of pleasure.

You brush a hand through his damp hair, smoothing it back from his sweat-slicked forehead. His half-lidded eyes flutter at the touch, unfocused but filled with something tender—something that made your heart clench despite what you had just made him go through.

“There you go,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Breathe, love.”

A faint hum vibrates in his throat, and after a few slow blinks, his dazed expression melts contentment. His lips part, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “…You're insatiable.”

A warmth spreads through your chest as you giggle, shifting just enough to lie against him without breaking the intimate connection you both shared. "...I know. But you liked it, didn't you?"

He scoffs lightly, burying his face in your hair. Even without a response, the way his hands soothingly rubbed over your skin said enough. And as his body finally relaxes beneath you, you hold him close—letting the night settle around you, wrapped in the heat of each other’s presence.

a/n: BOOOOMSHAKALAKAAAAA I GOT SOMETHING OUT OF MY DRAFTS

[hailthegodsong]

how could i forget

the most comprehensive photo of josh’s happy trail to date

[h66nki]

give me one ⋆. 𐙚 ̊ nishimura riki

a visit to your aunt's house implants a thought in ni-ki: you would be a good mother. warnings; dirty talk, suggestive.

ni-ki feels it inside him. it comes like a fleeting thought in his head: you'd make a good mom. the feeling only grows when he sees you with children and this helps confirm his theory.

he watches you play with your younger cousin. the little girl is very energetic and has you running around, chasing her, making you sit on the floor to put together puzzles, playing hide-and-seek.

he's lost count of how many games you've played to keep her entertained, and even though he also played along with you, there came a time when the girl's effusiveness tired him out. you didn't tire, though.

you seemed to love the girl so much that it was impossible for you to say no, agreeing to each and every one of her suggestions.

at one point during the busy afternoon, the little girl slipped and almost hit herself, causing her mother to scold her and make her burst into tears.

you quickly took her in your arms, picking her up and cradling her against your chest. the toddler cried, inconsolable, throwing a tantrum. you could handle it and quickly manage to calm her down with sweet whispers and sweet promises in her ear. ni-ki watched the scene with love and curiosity... maybe something more.

it seems to be so natural for you to deal with a child and his antics: it makes him think.

ni-ki doesn't waste the opportunity to have your full attention on him again, so when your cousin is calmer and more cheerful you return her to your aunt so they can spend time together while you go to the bathroom.

ni-ki disappears into the hallway like a shadow, not giving you enough time to close the door. he gets into the room with you and closes the door himself.

"love?" you ask, confused.

the boy pins you between his body and the sink, pressing himself against you. "there isn't a drop of sanity left in my body, and it's your fault," he complains.

you laugh at his dramatics, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. his hands grip your waist, holding you in place.

"what did i do now?"

"you look so beautiful playing with the baby... i can't stop thinking about what a great mother you'd make." your heart pounds inside your chest at the compliment. "give me one, please."

your eyes widen in disbelief. for a moment, you think you haven't heard correctly... that you've misinterpreted him.

"give you what?"

ni-ki hides his face in your neck, placing small kisses on your skin.

"a baby," he says. "let's have a baby."

your body trembles between his, his tongue tickling you. a baby? no way... you're both too young for such a responsibility.

"i... i don't think it's ideal right now," you try to refute, caressing the back of his neck as you let him kiss you.

"please..." he begs. "i never ask for anything, just give me a baby, please." and he's right. ni-ki never asks you for anything, but can you give him this? "let me fuck you a baby deep inside you."

"ni-ki..."

you feel him breathe shakily in your ear. his large hand moves to your lower abdomen, resting it there. "imagine a baby here... a child of ours."

you bite your lower lip, trying not to make a sound. he's hard against you, you can feel it.

"you would look so beautiful with your swollen stomach... everyone would know that you love me so much that you let me fill you with my cum... that you let me breed you to bear the fruit of our love."

"don't say those things..." you try to stop him, but his words have an effect on you that you can't deny, not even if you really wanted to.

his eyes look at you, filled with hope.

"we would be the best parents in the world... just you, me... and a beautiful little girl... healthy, precious, and intelligent like her mommy."

"a girl...?" you repeat with hope. you feel persuaded; you don't know if it's because of the conversation or his kisses... maybe because of everything. ni-ki looks so cute begging that it would be inhuman not to have a little doubt about your initial thought.

"a baby girl," he affirms. ni-ki hides his face in the hollow of your shoulder again. he breathes shakily, excitedly. "please, let me fill you now... give me a little princess."

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[little-miss-apple]

Frustrated you rummage through your drawer. You have been looking for your favourite pair of panties everywhere. The laundry basket, the washing machine, the dryer...

This was the fourth pair of panties you had lost over the past two weeks. You started questioning your sanity after the last pair vanished because you definitely remembered throwing it in the laundry with the rest of your clothes.

You sit back, huffing in annoyance. How is this even possible? The other pieces of clothing you wore that day came out perfectly fine. You didn't pack much for this trip to Skyhaven so you'd soon run out of panties if they kept disappearing like this.

For a moment you debate if it could've ended up with Caleb's clean laundry, but the two of you didn't exactly wear the same type of undergarments. He would've noticed and returned them by now, right?

You mentally scold yourself as you slip into his room. You felt stupid for even trying but you were at your wits ends. So when you open his drawer and don't see your panties anywhere, you let out a dry laugh.

"I'm so stupid..." you whisper to yourself as you let yourself fall onto his bed. Your fingers trail over the fabric of his bedding. It still smells like him. He's away a lot these days, saying the fleet is busy.

You close your eyes and pull his pillow to your chest, wanting to feel and hold a semblance of him. The second you open your eyes they fall onto a familiar pattern.

"what the hell...."

Caleb returns home when it's almost midnight. The lights in his apartment are all turned off, so he assumes you went to bed early today. Panic sets off the second he peaks into your room and notices your empty bed.

He frantically calls out your name as he searches high and low, not stopping until he finds you sitting on his bed with dimmed lights and your limbs crossed.

"..you scared me pipsqueak," he says as his breathing regulates "what are you doing in here?"

"can't I be here?" you ask, voice sickingly sweet.

"ofcourse you can, you're always welcome in my room..."

"so, you're not hiding anything or something?"

"no...?" he says in a questioning tone "I usually keep classified documents in my office."

"Then what is this?" you say oh so innocently as you dangle your missing panties on your finger.

shit.

He instantly drops to your feet, still in his fleet uniform, his eyes look almost pleading as he looks up at you.

"I'm sorry, please... I don't know what came over me... I just- I thought I'd keep them for when you leave.. and I'll miss you... but they smelled so nice and like you-"

To be honest, apart from the fact that you were running out of underwear, you didn't really mind. If anything you thought it was kind of adorable in a sick and perverted way. But the way he looks at you, begging for forgiveness for giving into his perverted needs, it does something to you.

What was supposed to be some playful teasing suddenly intertwines with the need to almost punish him, keep him on his knees and make him beg for more.

"never knew you were such a disgusting pervert..." the words sound foreign when they leave your lips and if he was any closer, your speeding heartbeat would betray you.

His eyes grow wide for a moment before he stammers; "I am... I am a disgusting pervert.. you- you should punish me..."

Your heart is pounding harder by the second. You let out a shaky breath as you try to compose yourself.

"put your hands behind your back." you command and he oblidges.

Your foot finds its way to his shoulder and you notice the way his eyes flick to the edge of your skirt. You lean back and allow your foot to drag down his chest slowly, observing the way his breath hitches as you go lower.

"A highly respected colonel turning out to be a sick and deprived puppy for me..."

He nods feverishly.

"I'm your puppy, I'm your puppy.. I'll do whatever you want me to do- please-"

Your foot reaches the bottom of his abdomen and you gently apply pressure to his hard cock. He let's out a strangled groan.

"what did you do with them?"

"w-what?"

"with my panties... what did you do with them?" you apply some more pressure.

"I- I'd smell them... jerk off with them... imagine it was you.... 'cus- 'cus I'm your dirty puppy..."

"... take off my panties."

His dick twitches in his pants and you don't have to tell him twice. His hands eagerly lift your skirt and slip the lace white panties down your legs. His hands tremble as he notices how soaked they are.

"Can I eat you out? Please? please I'll be so good... please?" he begs you, puppy dog eyes almost burning into your soul. How could you ever deny him when he looks at you like that?

You nod, giving him the green light. You are instantly tackled as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed like an eager puppy. His mouth immediately flies to you clit, sucking and licking it like a starved man.

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging it as you let out a surprised yelp. He hungrily laps your pussy, taking anything you're willing to give him.

"you taste so good..." he says, voiced muffled. He sounds like a drunk man, completely intoxicated by your juices. You can almost hear the way his eyes roll back in his head.

He puts his tongue flat against you, licking stripes from your opening to you clit, sucking the bundle of nervers when he comes near it. Your ankles lock behind his head as you desperately try to pull him impossibly closer.

You don't think you've ever came this hard before. The blissful release so strong that it leaves your whole world spinning as you arch your back of the bed and gasp for air. When you regain some strength, you look down, meeting his eyes that look oh so drunk on you, eyes hazy but still focused on you.

Shakily you sit up on the edge of the bed, forcing him to detach himself from your core. His lips are glossy with your juices as he looks up at you.

"did I do well?"

"yeah... so well..." you say, still breathless. "my good puppy..."

His eyes sparkle at your words of affirmation. He lunges towards you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He starts to unbutton his uniform while the your lips are still connected.

"what are you doing?" you ask bewildered when you break away from him.

"you won't leave your puppy like this, right?" he says referring to the massive tent in his uniform pants. Before you can answer, your back is pushed against the bed and he's hovering over you, dog tags brushing over your collar bones.

"and we'll get you more underwear tomorrow, I promise..."

(( thank you @mcdepressed290 for the prompt! it's not very good but I actually really enjoyed writing a more subby caleb! my degradation skills definitely need some work though...))

[lizzyiii]

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ​​and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[hannieween]

fault lines | wicked games series

You didn’t want to think of it—about the finality of your love life. About how fleeting story with Wonwoo was. But you realized, the end had started the moment you both kissed.

☾ pairings: jeon wonwoo x female reader ☾ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ☾ aus: bartender wonwoo, bartender mingyu, messy love triangle, friends with benefits, right person wrong time ☾ word count: 12.1k

› PREVIOUS CHAPTERS – READ MORE

🎧: give more care less – bibi | in the blur of the rain – jiwoo | fall in lust – eden, jiselle | blame – i.m

☾ warnings: smut with plot, hurt/comfort, crying, breakups, fighting verbally and physically, mentions of blood and minor injury. soft dom wonwoo, reader is a bit bratty, body worship, oral sex, fingering, spanking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex, hair pulling, hard fucking to comfort fuck, love making, making out, creampies, crying after sex. reader is chubby. pet names: baby, (hers) babe (his)

☾ author's note: it's finally here! sorry for the absence, i'll explain more in my second author's note at the end of the chapter.

this chapter has another long sex scene. it's 3k words long i'm sowwy. i'm sorrrrrry, i'm ovulating and i live vicariously through my yns lolololol tmi tmi aaahh.

☾ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and do not to look like a bot 🙂

fault lines

Jeon Wonwoo knocked on your door, knowing that it would be the end.

Because when you opened it, he could see it in your eyes. You had been crying, your skin was blotchy, and your eyelashes were clumped with tears. You lifted your gaze to meet him, and your lips parted, forming a word that never made it out.

Wonwoo couldn’t resist himself. Taking one step towards you, he wrapped you in a big, tight hug, hiding his face on the curve of your neck.

You gasped as you were completely embraced in his warmth and his scent. But you reciprocated the hug, wrapping your arms around him too.

“How are you?” he asked softly, lifting his head from your neck and stepping back.

“I’m… okay,” you said without making eye contact with him.

You closed the door just as he was removing his backpack from his shoulders and kicking his slip Vans off. You could see from the corner of your eye that he was trying to search your face, so you turned to the couch, dragging your feet towards it.

He followed you, sighing as the suspense hanging in the air threatened to strip him of his sanity. He knew that you had seen Mingyu earlier in the day, and he didn’t see Mingyu after your conversation, so he essentially knew nothing about what happened. Only the tremble in your voice told him that things hadn’t come out well for you.

And now that he could see the state you were in, he suspected the worst.

He swallowed hard, waiting for you to finish gathering your words. You pushed your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly in what Wonwoo had now categorized as a way to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Talk to me, please,” Wonwoo asked after a moment of silence.

You stopped looking into the void, your teary eyes finding him. “I’m pulling the brakes,” you muttered with a shaky tone.

Wonwoo understood immediately. But his already heavy heart sank, leaving his chest with a hollow sensation that he could only try to push down by clearing his throat. “I understand,” he nodded, looking down at his lap, where his finger fidgeted with the pocket of his cargo pants.

Silence fell in the room, made heavy by the tight feeling in his chest.

He told you he would accept your choice.

This was what you were choosing.

You hadn’t chosen him.

“Did you decide to give Mingyu a second chance?” Wonwoo asked. His tone was low, weakened with the anxiousness he was trying to swallow down.

You didn’t answer at first, making him raise his head to search your face. Something inside him eased when you shook your head. “We talked, but he didn’t ask for a second chance,” you mumbled, shifting your arms around you. “I think I need time. I need to think about what I really want… about what I need.”

He nodded, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments. He experienced something that he hadn’t in a long time. One thing that he knew he would feel when he decided to kiss you for the first time. He felt the centre of his chest ache, the feeling spreading through his veins like some kind of poison.

It was heartbreak. 

“What do you want to do?” Wonwoo asked, realizing that his tone had thickened. But it didn’t matter, he still looked you in the eye. “Do you want me to go now?”

You bit your lower lip, shaking your head slowly. “Would it be selfish of me to ask you to keep me company tonight?” you whispered fearfully, lowering your gaze from him. “I understand if you want to leave. I just don’t want to be alone.”

It was then that Wonwoo understood one painful thing.

Initially, he had convinced himself that his role in this situation was to be your rebound. He had accepted being with you, fully aware that you were still hurting over Mingyu. But as time went on, he no longer felt like that was the case for you.

And he finally understood Mingyu. 

“Do you really want to pull the brakes?” he asked.

That made you look at him again. The question had touched something inside you, because you looked into his eyes and a spark of fear appeared in yours. “No, I don’t want to,” you muttered, your tone quivering with the same tinge of that spark.

He understood why Mingyu couldn’t leave before it got too late. Love came easily to you. You loved so easily and with such eagerness that it became addictive. Mingyu needed that when he met you. And Wonwoo… he was convinced he didn’t need love, he didn’t need anyone.

But that was before he met you.

“Why are you doing it, then?”

You shrugged, still wrapping your arms around your knees. “I’m confused,” you said, your tone waning and turning whispery. “And scared that I’ll hurt Mingyu,” you lowered your gaze again. “Or you.”

He nodded, also lowering his gaze. He knew that, like you, he would have to make a decision. One that was difficult for him, but in the end, he always knew it would come down to this.

He locked eyes with you. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Your features hardened slightly. “What are your conditions?”

“I’ll tell Mingyu about us,” he said, his tone becoming raw with emotion when he saw your eyes widen and brim with tears again. “I’m sorry, but I have to tell him.”

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding with small motions. You had thought for a split second to protect Mingyu’s emotions. But you knew that it was futile. “I agree. He has to know.”

He leaned toward you, wanting to get closer to you, grab your hand or something. “I’ll leave you alone. You won’t hear from me unless you want to,” he said, becoming impossible for him to speak, his throat was closing up. “I’ll let you have your space.”

You were sobbing more, tears kept rolling down your cheeks as you stared at your own hands. You nodded, unable to speak up.

Wonwoo licked his lips in a feeble attempt to keep his feelings at bay. But he leaned closer to you, now within reach to cup your face, commanding your gaze to him. “I believe that the first step toward healing is to stop punishing yourself for everything.”

Your gaze softened. “I am responsible for all of this,” you countered, your eyebrows knitting as anguish rose in your chest. “I’ve been selfish, and now look at what has happened.” Your eyes glistened, lip quivering. “Mingyu’s going to hate me.”

“He won’t hate you,” he asserted at once, his tone gentle. He threaded a piece of your hair with his fingers, tucking it behind your ear. “I’ll explain everything to him, he’ll understand. But don’t believe that he’ll hate you because that’s just not who he is.”

Your gaze changed. You wanted to believe the certainty in his words, but the burden in your heart made it impossible to do so.

A pause followed, tense and heavy with the silence that distanced you from Wonwoo. Your heart ached to take back your own words, you wished to be in a scenario in which it didn’t have to hurt so much to love him and Mingyu at the same time.

But you saw it now. The breach between the person you were now and the person you were with Mingyu. You almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were so eager to love Mingyu, so willing to give him your heart and accept the broken pieces of his. And now, you were on the other side, loving Wonwoo but with a broken heart.

You hated what you had become. You hated that your desire for love and to be loved had pushed you to do something you’d never imagined you would do.

“Can you forgive me?” you asked, your tone tiny and weary with tears.

Wonwoo’s gaze softened. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he immediately responded, even though his chest was constricted with an awful feeling.

Your shoulders eased, as though a massive weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Wonwoo saw it too, and he outstretched an arm to you, grazing your elbow with the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your attention to him. “Come here,” he told you gently, holding his arms out for you.

You simply couldn’t resist. You crawled next to him, his arms wrapping around you in a hug. He immediately brought his lips to your head, kissing your hair.

“I think you’re doing what’s right,” he muttered, his mouth still close to your head, so he simply pressed his lips against yours again and again.

You giggled softly. His soft pecks trailed down until his lips met your ear, making you shudder in his arms, trying to recoil from the tickling sensation of his breath against the shell of your ear.

You turned over, now able to see his face.

Wonwoo was tired. That much you knew from just one look. He had dark circles around his eyes, and his lips were slightly dry. “What?” he whispered, studying your face as he waited for your answer.

He flashed you a smile that, though genuine, looked tired. You ran a hand under his chin, noting the slight stubble. “You could use a shave,” you whispered tenderly.

He smiled at you, raising his eyebrows a little. “Yeah? You don’t like it?”

“Oh no, I like it,” you asserted, your tone falling, inevitably turning honeyed. “I like it very much.”

“Do you want me to shave it?” he said, looking at your face as you rubbed the back of your fingers against his stubble.

“Only if you want to,” you shrugged ever so slightly. “I just think it’s out of character for you.”

He clicked his tongue. “Is it itchy when I kiss you?” he asked, the genuine curiosity in his tone was unmistakable.

“You haven’t really kissed me today,” you pointed out gently, your tummy tightening with anxiousness.

The corner of his lip curved lightly. “Is that an invitation to kiss you?”

You blinked slowly, a smile creeping on your face. “Maybe.”

“I don’t do maybe. It’s either yes or no,” he said softly, tracing the features of your face with his gaze, lingering on your lips and then returning to your eyes.

“Wonwoo.”

“Mm?” he hummed, slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Kiss me,” you whispered.

A fluttering sensation went wild inside you at the sight of his smile, but this was fleeting as he dipped his head to meet your lips with his own. The first kiss was tender, marked by a sweetness that you almost compared to love. The moment stretched, and his lips lingered on your own, not kissing you anymore but not stepping back either.

Kissing you was like meeting the petals of a rose with his lips. Your lips were always soft, always welcoming. He loved kissing you like he loved listening to the sound of your laughter.

He swallowed hard, a shaky sigh coming out of him before he kissed you again. This time, the kiss was harder, more eager to feel your lips between his own. You instantly let out a short moan in his mouth, feeling the wetness of his full lips against your own.

Wonwoo tensed slightly against your body. He loved hearing the sounds he brought out of you. A thing stirred in his mind whenever he thought that it was he who made you feel this way. He dove into your lips again, kissing you fervently, showing you the need that was brimming inside him.

Wonwoo loved you. And this was the last time he would have a chance to prove it.

Something came over him. A feeling so desperate that he felt it shift beneath his skin, pushing him to kiss you harder, to lock his lips with yours with more fervency.

“I need you,” he whispered, his heart beating frantically in fear of rejection.

“Wonwoo—” you started, but cut yourself off with a short sigh. “Are you sure? I mean, what about tomorrow?”

“I can leave first thing in the morning,” he said, hating how desperate he sounded, but he had no choice but to give in to his heart’s desires. He closed his eyes, pushing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

You slid your hands on his neck, locking your fingers to pull him into another kiss. Wonwoo hummed into the kiss, sliding his hands down to find your waist, tugging you to him.

You followed his silent command, crawling on top of his body and sitting down on his lap. “Is that what you want? To leave like nothing happened?” you asked right before diving on his lips again.

Wonwoo pulled back for a moment, his lips creating a soft smacking noise. “It wouldn’t be like nothing happened,” he said. His eyes studied your face for one long second. “It’ll give you the opportunity to start fresh. Without me.”

You knew what he meant. But that only drove the breach further, deepening your confusion. You wanted space to think, but you didn’t want to stop feeling this: his body next to yours, the comfort his words gave you. Maybe it was stupid to ask for space when you knew you didn’t want to be alone.

You needed to regain your sense of self.

Wonwoo felt your hesitation. You felt him pause, the slight shift when he took a shaky breath. “Please… just one more night,” he whispered carefully.

You could sense the desire in his words alone. But your heart was riddled with anxiety and sadness over this whole thing. “What if I can’t let you go afterwards?” you asked shakily.

“Then I’ll stay,” he replied firmly. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

Hesitation came over you, tangled with questions and fears of what might happen if you had sex with him again. Your relationship with him was already twisted—and you knew that sleeping with him again would only complicate things more.

You had asked him to stay the night, but you hadn’t meant it that way. And you knew he knew this.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he whispered.

Your heart faltered. It was crazy to you that he could sense what you were feeling with just a second of pure silence.

“Wait, I—” you started, bringing a hand to his chest over his clothes to push yourself back.

The first thing he did was study your face, as though he needed to gather every detail, every emotion you let show.

Something rewired in your brain—this was the last night you would get with him. This was a choice made purely by your inability to face your own guilt for hurting Mingyu. But if you had known back then that he was going to break up with you the day after spending the night in your bed, you would’ve done things differently.

You closed the tiny space between you and Wonwoo, touching his forehead with your own. “I do want it,” you whispered, a hint of fear making your tone quiver. “I just don’t want to hurt you more.”

His hand slipped beneath your chin. “Don’t worry about me,” he replied, his voice barely audible. He pressed his lips to your own for a long second, backing away slightly with a satisfying smacking sound. “I need you,” he whispered, making you feel the soft brushing of his lips against yours.

And that did it for you. You gave in, kissing him fully, locking your lips with his. He let out a strangled sound into the kiss when he felt you concede, when he felt your limbs starting to move, crawling on his lap.

His hands found the curve of your waist, pulling you in as you sat on top of him, lowering your crotch against his. You moaned slightly when you felt the tip of his tongue brush your lower lip, rolling inside your mouth with expert ease.

You grabbed his head, fingers slipping through his dark and messy hair. A raspy sound reverberated in his chest when you let your fingernails run on his scalp. He reacted impulsively, using his hands to press you harder against his body.

Hearing that sound and receiving that kind of reaction only fueled you more. Your fingers curled around his hair, and then you pulled, yanking his head back. He gasped softly when your lips separated, his eyes fluttering open to see your face.

“Fuck,” he whispered, swallowing nervously.

You arched an eyebrow. “I knew you liked having your hair pulled, but I didn’t know it was this bad,” you teased.

He blinked slowly, recovering. “Don’t get too excited,” he said, his voice low and raspy. But he smiled softly at you, his hands shifting from your waist to your thighs, pushing his fingertips onto your bare skin.

“Mmm,” you hummed, leaning to plant a taunting kiss on his wet lips. “You just gave me an idea,” you said playfully. Cradling the back of his head with your hands, you just grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling it firmly and slowly.

He let out a short, breathy laugh, his hands sliding down your legs, feeling your skin freely. “You keep giving me reasons to spank you,” he whispered, moving a hand to meet your cheek.

Your fingers relaxed around the strands of his hair. “That sounds like fun,” you smirked.

He brought you closer so he could press his lips against yours. “But I don’t want that right now,” he countered.

You trapped his lower lip between your teeth, making him gasp softly. “What do you want, then? Mm?” you asked sultrily, keeping your voice low.

His hand left your cheek, and a second later, you felt it playing with the hem of your tank top, lifting it so he could sneak his hand underneath. You flinched when his hand pressed in the small of your back, pressing gently.

“I want to make love to you,” he said, enunciating each word with a waning tone. “I want…” he sighed, and you understood that sound to be from wanton need. “I want to feel you. God, I need you.”

You smiled against his lips before kissing him again. “How?” you whispered. “How do you want me?”

He didn’t skip a beat. “Naked,” he said huskily. “I want to see you first.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, making you hide your face against the curve of his neck. He instantly flinched at the sensation of your breath fanning against his skin. You didn’t think you could have enough grace to give him a show, so you initially hid.

You heard a soft laugh from him, his hand snaking underneath your shorts, feeling your thigh. You responded by pressing your lips against his neck, kissing him tenderly, tauntingly.

A strangled sound landed against your ear. “Baby,” he drawled. But he tilted his head back, letting you shower him with kisses on his neck.

You slipped a hand down his chest, feeling him sigh and relax with your kisses while his hand travelled up your back. Your skin prickled at the caress of his fingers, making your nipples pert and harden.

You pressed your chest against his, lifting your head to kiss his lips. “Okay, I’m going,” you replied impishly, climbing off his lap clumsily.

Now standing before him, you were unable to hide from his gaze. You had to bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from hyperventilating as you pinched your tank top with your fingertips, pulling it up your torso slowly.

He had to tilt his head back slightly to follow the travel of your tank top, revealing more and more skin as you got it off your body. You saw him part his lips, taking in a deep breath as his gaze roved all over your skin.

Something made you think that there was more in his eyes than just lust. Wonwoo just looked at you so slowly, so tenderly that for a second, you forgot that the moment was supposed to be sexy.

But his gaze darkened when you unclasped your bra, letting it fall on the floor. Your clothes were beginning to pile at your feet, but you didn’t care. You were now strangely allured by the way Wonwoo kept looking at you, as though he wanted to memorize everything.

You were his for tonight. And he wanted to enjoy it.

Your heart was pounding frantically when you slid your shorts down, stepping out of them. You were becoming increasingly more aroused as the seconds went by, and the unique sensation danced beneath your warm skin. You were sure the shyness was showing on the features of your face.

But he never blinked away. He swallowed hard when you discarded your panties, too, now fully naked in front of him.

He reached out to grab your hand, pulling you towards him. His other hand came to your hip as he leaned forward to press a kiss on your belly. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his head, cradling it as he littered your lower tummy with sweet kisses. His lips continued trailing down, meeting your mound. You flinched, pulling his hair as an automatic reaction.

He paused, sending you a dark look.

“Sorry,” you whispered sheepishly. “I need you.”

“Lie down on the couch,” he motioned to the space next to him.

Nervously, you followed his instruction as he rose to his feet, taking his jacket off and white t-shirt altogether. Your eyes followed him as he knelt on the floor, grabbing one of your legs and resting it on his shoulder.

He made no pause, wasted no time. He just leaned over, pressing his lips on your mound again before he started kissing your pussy. The feeling gave you whiplash, disconnecting you from reality for a moment. You let your head drop back, enjoying the feeling of his mouth against your folds, just teasing and kissing.

He licked a fat stripe of your arousal, humming softly as you tensed on the couch, letting him eat your pussy out. You cradled his head once again, dropping your mouth to let a long breath out.

There was a moment of silence. You were completely unable to voice out the pleasure you were subdued to, and Wonwoo was busy kissing your pussy. The only sounds you could hear were the smacking wet of his lips and tongue pleasuring you.

But he didn’t go far. He just kissed you, teased you—never deciding to take you higher.

“Wonwoo,” you called softly, lifting your head to see him.

You saw his lips wrapping around your clit, almost like making out with it. You understood that he wasn’t even trying to edge you, he just wanted to kiss your pussy, delight on the taste of it.

“Please… more,” you asked softly.

But he wasn’t stopping, nor giving you signs that he’d do what you were asking of him.

“Wonwoo, more,” you repeated more salaciously. But then, you bucked your hips, bumping his face with your cunt.

He groaned, pulling back from you. “Brat,” he reproached, lifting a hand and bringing it down on your thigh quite harshly.

You yelped pathetically. “Wonwoo—!”

“You wanted that, didn’t you?” he taunted, his eyes glinting with some kind of fascination.

You couldn’t reply vocally, just gaped at him before giving him a slow nod.

A smirk crept on his lips. “Is it too much to ask that you be a good girl for me?”

“I’m being good,” you replied with a playful tone.

“Yeah,” he sighed, raising his eyebrows. “Right.”

You closed your eyes as he lifted his hand again, slapping your thigh again. Your limbs tensed, but you couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Fuck,” you gritted, your skin getting hot and tingling from the fleeting pain.

Wonwoo rose to his feet, tucking his thumbs under the elastic band of his black sweatpants, pushing them down along with his boxers. And despite him not really giving you a show, you enjoyed the way his cock slapped his lower abdomen, standing fully hard.

“Get on the bed,” he snapped, motioning to your bed.

You were barely registering your limbs. But you stood up, walking to your bed with him following you. You were about to lie down on your bed when you felt his hand patting your ass gently.

“Hands and knees. Facing the headboard,” he said.

You crawled on your bed on your hands and knees, facing the wall. You itched to see him, to feel him again.

His hand cupped your pussy, his fingers sliding between your wet folds, smearing your arousal all over your cunt. His middle finger slipped inside your wet pussy, pushing inside your walls once, twice and then he pulled it out.

“Wonwoo,” you mewled, pushing your cunt against his hand.

“Hold onto the headboard, baby,” he said softly, and as you did, you felt his hands gripping your hips.

And then he pushed his dick in, not giving you warning, nor time to adjust. Wonwoo started thrusting his cock into your pussy in a near-feral pace. You moaned loudly, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you saw stars.

You realized that he was giving you what you wanted—to be fucked, hard and passionately. It was the only way he knew you felt alive, felt something.

The way he started moaning almost drove you to the edge. It wasn’t his cock, hitting that glorious spot repeatedly, it was the reactions he got form fucking your pussy hard and fast. Wonwoo was moaning, grunting almost. His hands gripping your waist started to squeeze your skin, barely holding himself back.

“God, fuck,” he sighed in pleasure. “I love how you squeeze around me, baby,” he said breathlessly. And you could almost picture his face riddled in pleasure, him tilting his head back, leaving his neck open, his throat bobbing.

“Wonwoo,” you cried out, holding onto the headboard that kept bumping against the wall. His hips snapping against yours were creating a very obvious sound, and you could no longer contain your moans.

So the room was quickly filled with the sound of hard sex. The slapping of skin, Wonwoo’s quiet but raspy moans and your cries of pleasure. You tried suppressing your sounds by biting your bottom lip, but the sounds instead sounded even more pathetic. You sounded almost like a whimpering animal.  

“Fuck, babe,” you sighed, unable to do something other than angling your hips for his ruthless thrusts. “Wonwoo—please, don’t stop,” you drawled languidly, verging closer to your release.

A moan came out of him, raspy and urgent, as though the sounds you were making for him were only inciting him further. “Fuck, you’re being so good for me, baby,” he praised.

The pleasure was nearly suffocating. You felt it everywhere, and you knew he wasn’t going to stop soon, so you just let your mind go blank, leaving your body at the mercy of his feral thrusts.

You sank to your elbows, pressing your face against your pillows. The change in position only made the pleasure higher, consuming you quickly. You moaned loudly, not caring about anything and just let your orgasm wash over you.

“Fuck, yes, cum for me,” he gasped, feeling your walls clenching around his cock and listening to the sounds you were muffling against your pillow.

Your hands balled into fists on your bed covers, trying to hold onto something as your orgasm tore through you. But it was quick, letting you come down from it as Wonwoo kept ramming his cock into you. “I’m close, baby, g-god—” he groaned.

He leaned his body over, chest pressing against your back, quite literally trapping you with his body. You felt his mouth against your nape, heard the strangled sounds he made. “You’re my fucking girl,” he whispered hoarsely while rutting into you desperately. “All fucking mine,” and then his thrusts became deeper, slowing down as he fucked his cum deep into you.

He kissed your hair and shoulder, breathing erratically against your skin. “Turn over,” he rasped, pulling away from you.

You were in no position to question him. You turned over, eyeing him curiously as he stood before you on his knees. He was still hard, his length completely covered in your arousal, his cum leaking from the tip.

He pressed his elbows on your pillow, framing your head.

You watched him intently, his gaze was still darkened, heavy with lust. And you could tell he wasn’t done with you by the way he captured your lips in a swift kiss. “Wonwoo,” you called softly.

“Mm?” he replied shortly.

Your hands were roving up and down his naked back, feeling his skin as he kissed your lips. Your breath caught when he pressed his hips against yours, making you feel his hard cock, his soft pubic hair—you gulped.

“Nothing,” you finally replied with a light giggle.

“Tell me,” he immediately mumbled, kissing your face slowly.

Your hands stopped caressing his body, stopping at his shoulders to push him off slightly. Wonwoo understood well, pulling back to lock eyes with you.

You didn’t need to speak—you just gave him that look, trying to convey without words what you weren’t quite ready to tell him yet. You wanted him. You wished for things to be different, to live in a scenario where you loved both men freely.

Wonwoo parted his lips, something waiting at the tip of his tongue. But he bit it back too, resorting to just nodding at you, and he didn’t need to say anything either.

You reached between your bodies, finding his cock to stroke it languidly. “You okay?” you whispered, guiding his cock to your wet pussy.

He nodded, leaning over to meet your lips with his own, at the same time he slipped inside you. And like the first time, he didn’t waste time and started pushing in and out of your walls. But the rhythm of his thrusts was completely different. It was gentle now, deep and slow.

You slid a hand on your pillow, trying to slip it under his once you found it. Wonwoo grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours and switching his weight on his elbows.

He wanted this—to make love to you while looking at your face.

You cupped his face with your free hand, holding his gaze as he pushed into you languidly. You thought of saying something, of telling him how he made you feel. But your heart faltered as you looked into his dark eyes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in between short breaths.

His thrusts were picking up the pace, and you knew that he was close from the short gasps that spilled from his pretty lips.

“Kiss me,” you whispered, needing more of his touch, more of the pleasure he could give you.

He closed the space between his mouth and yours, moaning deeply when your tongues touched. You kissed him, kissed him until you ran out of breath, until you felt your pleasure blooming under your skin, spreading relentlessly. You wanted to cum, you needed to feel him deeper.

You pushed your knees up, angling your pussy for his cock. Blindly, you felt Wonwoo’s hand on your thigh, finding the back of your knee and pulling it over his shoulder, pushing deeper into your pussy. You cried out into the kiss, moaning pathetically.

He broke the kiss quickly, breathing fitfully against your mouth. “You close?”

You nodded quickly. “Please,” you gasped, circling your arm on his back, holding onto him as he kept moving on you.

“I’m close too,” he whispered, pushing his forehead against yours.

You closed your eyes, feeling like you could sob. “Together?” you whispered.

Wonwoo nodded, the grip around your hand becoming tighter. And you just let yourself go, holding his hand, moaning his name repeatedly. You squeezed his hand back, and his thrusts became deeper. This orgasm was different, as fleeting as the first but somehow lingering in your body, sizzling beneath your skin.

“Wonwoo,” you sobbed.

He quickly brought his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts slowed down and then stopped completely. But you kept making out with him, as though neither of you could speak and resorted to kissing each other fervently.

But both of you needed to breathe eventually. While both of you recovered and came down from your high, Wonwoo nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, pulling out of you gently.

The quiet settled in.

Misery crept over you before he could even move. You didn’t want to see it. But it was becoming more and more obvious as the time for him to go drew nearer. You knew that once you were alone, it would be unescapable.

Wonwoo rested his head on your chest, his arms sneaking underneath your back, hugging you. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to relish the moment, to try and memorize the smell from your skin, your clothes.

Your hand found the back of his head, slowly starting to thread his hair through your fingers.

He knew there was nothing left to say. He knew what he was getting himself into.

For a moment, he wondered what his life would look like if this were just a normal night and he was just staying over at his girl’s house. He squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the thought.

“Are you sleeping any time soon, babe?” Your tiny voice broke the silence. You were still caressing his head, trying to soothe him to sleep.

But he resisted.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” you whispered, your voice waning, and that was how he knew you had started to tear up again.

He lifted his head, his glasses falling back in place as he found your face. Your eyes were teary, eyelashes clamped together in their wetness. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, rolling over and lying next to you.

You turned to him, following him instinctively. “You have work tomorrow,” you said.

Wonwoo paused, looking at the features of your face, softened by the pain and anguish you were feeling. “But I won’t see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

The impact of his words showed on your face. You blinked several times, your mouth parting slightly as your lip quivered. You looked away, down to his chest, and more tears sprang from your eyes.

“Hey,” Wonwoo called softly, bringing two fingers under your chin to make you look back at him. Once your eyes were on him, he thought of what to say. But no words came, nothing he could say to soothe the pain you were feeling, nothing he could say to make it better.

It this was the last time he would be close to you, he had to make it count. And he did. He kissed you, he showed you how much he loved your body, your face. How much you’ve made him happy just by being with you.

But he wanted to allow himself to be just a little more selfish.

You were starting to wonder about the reason behind his silence, his hesitation. Your eyes searched his face, your eyebrows quirking a little.

Wonwoo was overwhelmed by a sudden rush of nervousness, not knowing how you’d take this, unsure if he was making things better or slightly worse. But he had to say it. At least once before the morning came. “I love you.”

You blinked. You stopped breathing. Part of you knew, hoped that this was going to happen.

It didn’t make you change your choice. But still, it made your heart fuller.

He was brimming with uncertainty. It was the first time he uttered those words in years. And he only did it under the most traditional circumstances. He hated himself for being so nervous of rejection, of adding to the weight of his guilt for falling in love with you.

“I love you too,” you said, cupping his cheek to kiss him tenderly.

Wonwoo reciprocated the kiss, feeling his heart fuller, like he was allowed to breathe again. He broke the kiss, but only for a moment. He thought of what you’d feel like when the time came for him to leave, and felt like dying a little. Even though he respected your choice, he didn’t want to leave.

One thing he’d learn about you is that you were strong. All you’ve shown him this time he’s met you is that your heart is strong, and so full of love. He wished—desired more than anything—to see you put all that love into yourself.

“Can I ask one thing?” he whispered, and then smiled a little. “Well, another thing.”

“Anything,” you replied in kind, looking into his eyes.

“Please don’t blame yourself for this,” he said, carefully selecting his words. “Whatever happens with Mingyu, please don’t believe this is your fault.”

You gave him a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You’re asking too much from me,” you said. “I knew what I was doing, Wonwoo. I could’ve pulled the brakes long before this got too complicated.”

“Still,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily. “I don’t want you to carry this burden like it’s only yours. If anything, the burden is more mine than yours.”

The features of your face contorted slightly in a pout, which broke with the sob that tore through you. But you were quick, smashing your lips against his in a hard kiss, one that told him that you didn’t want to break this off.

But you had to.

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered.

And your words brought an inexplicable feeling to him. It gave him one very optimistic certainty—it gave him hope. A kind of hope that was twisted.

“I love you,” he replied with a lazy drawl, his eyelids falling close now.

Once he was completely asleep, you could also rest. But sleep didn’t come as easily for you, and part of you refused it as a petty form of punishment. You resorted to observing him in the dark, outlining the features of his face while he was peacefully asleep. There was no worry deepening his brow, or any fondness curving his lips.

He had tucked one of his arms beneath the pillow, while the other was perched lazily on the curve of your waist. His head was slightly leaned forward, so close to yours that you only had to push yourself a little to touch his forehead with your own.

You breathed slowly to not disturb his peace, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing, anchoring yourself to it, letting it lull you to sleep too. You closed your eyes, not thinking that this was the last time you’d see him in your bed, so close to you.

You didn’t want to think of it—about the finality of your love life. About how fleeting your story with Wonwoo was. But you realized the end had started the moment you both kissed.

But you had the certainty that it was ending, at least.

With your eyes closed, you tried memorizing the feeling of having him near, the weight of his body making the mattress dip, the way the bedsheets wrapped around your body and his.

You were terrified of being alone. You had thought that you were breaking things with Wonwoo because of the guilt you felt for loving Mingyu and hurting him. But the reality was, you were terrified of what you were turning into.

The thought persisted in your mind, but thankfully it allowed you to sleep. You tried to keep yourself light, so you could feel him while you slept. But somewhere in the night, your sleep became heavier, making you forget about your worries.

Because as soon as you woke up, you knew Wonwoo had left. His warmth was long gone when you turned under the bedsheets, and every single one of his belongings was nowhere to be seen.

He was gone.

And maybe he’d left before you woke up to make the last thing he said to you one sincere I love you. Maybe he left before you woke up, so he didn’t drag the torture out longer. But it didn’t soften the blow for you.

You sat up, looking around even though you knew that you were alone. Looking down, you sighed, bringing your hands to your face, too tired to cry, too tired to do anything at all.

You were a mess.

Never learned a thing.

Back to square one.

The Spot was still closed.

Wonwoo arrived before anyone else. Being the only other person who owned the key besides Seungcheol, he just started his shift earlier. He didn’t mind being in silence; in fact, he enjoyed it. It gave him peace of mind, and it soothed his heart.

He was tired, there was no doubt about that.

When he woke up it was already ten in the morning, and he needed to go. His heart twisted upon remembering the way you were still asleep, huddled in your bedcovers. But he forced himself to leave before you woke up, or else, he never would.

So there he was, feeling like shit. He went into the bathroom with his backpack still hanging on his shoulder. But he had everything he needed to help himself put together, more human.

He brushed his teeth with mechanical movements, not really paying attention to it, but just performing everything from muscle memory. He washed his face. He wet his hair and tried to comb it with his fingers, remembering the way you threaded his hair to help him sleep. 

It was going to be one tough way to get you out of his system.

He’s had breakups before, of course. But he didn’t think he could even call this a breakup—you were never his girlfriend to begin with.

But god, it sure hurt like it.

He walked out of the bathroom after putting on some deodorant and lotion, feeling more refreshed.

Then, from the corner of one fridge, he got a Monster and opened the can. The loud hiss was paired with the sound from the door to the backroom opening.

“Nice breakfast,” Seungcheol pointed out, leaving his laptop on the countertop and moving to remove the locks from the front door. “You looking rough, my friend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wonwoo said, keeping his head down. “But I’m okay.”

“Sure thing,” Seungcheol said with a huff.

“Well, I’m here. I can work just fine,” he said.

Seungcheol paused, placing his hands on his hips as he took one long look at Wonwoo. “You’ve always intrigued me with one thing.”

Wonwoo set the drink aside, crossing his arms. “And what’s that?”

“You’re always here,” he shrugged. “The others come and go, they don’t get too hooked with this place, but you?  You’ve never missed a day.”

“I’m sure I have missed one day,” Wonwoo said with a light smile, one that felt unsure.

“Not to my knowledge,” Seungcheol replied. “And don’t get me wrong, I love having you here. You could run the bar with your eyes closed, it’s something even I can’t do.”

“Come on, boss,” he sighed. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“I mean it,” Seungcheol pouted slightly. “I don’t know what happened to you. But this is the worst I’ve ever seen you,” he lifted one hand, as though demonstrating the state Wonwoo was in. “And look at you. You’re still here, not calling out.”

Wonwoo emitted a short laugh. “Do you want me to call out?”

Seungcheol looked at a loss of words. “I mean, I would grant it to you.”

“That bad I look, huh?”

The door opened once again, but now resounding across the bar with a powerful crack, revealing Mingyu. Wonwoo watched as Mingyu approached with a determined step, fear gripping him wholly when he saw the dark and dangerous look in his best friend’s eyes, dead set on him.

“It was you,” Mingyu said, his voice low, so low. “You knew I saw you with her and you didn’t say a fucking word.”

Wonwoo held his breath, his heart beating so hard against his chest that it made his voice uneven, but he remained determined: “I couldn’t tell you before.”

“What so you let me walk in there like a fucking idiot?” Mingyu said, stepping closer. “You let me sit for fucking days thinking she hated me while you—what? Were seeing her?”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened, every nerve inside him firing with anxiety. But he did not move. “That’s not how it was.”

But Mingyu wasn’t listening. “Since when?” He asked, breathing fitfully. “Since when did you two start seeing each other?”

Wonwoo knew this was not helping the situation at all. But he had to be honest. It was everything he had now. “A month after you walked away,” he answered.

Mingyu gave him a humourless laugh. “Yeah? Very convenient timing.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. Not at first,” Wonwoo said, the words escaping him before he could think twice about them. “She was hurting. And I was there.”

Mingyu’s gaze snapped to Wonwoo’s face. “Don’t. Don’t make it sound like some noble thing! You told me that the right thing was to end things with her,” he said, his tone sharpening in anger and disgust. “Admit it—you were waiting for your fucking turn.”

All caution flew out the window. Wonwoo’s gaze darkened. “I waited because I thought that maybe you’d get your shit together. I told you to talk to her. Call her. I told you to show up. But you never did.”

“You have no idea what I was dealing with!” Mingyu fired back.

“Because you shut everyone out!” Wonwoo replied. “You shut her out. Me.”

Rage flickered in Mingyu’s eyes. “You knew I love her. All this time, you knew.”

Wonwoo’s mouth parted, not holding himself back now. “Well, you didn’t act like it.”

“Hey, both of you. Calm down,” Seungcheol called, his voice stern and unquestionable.

But Mingyu was blinded, and his ears were buzzing. “You knew I was trying to protect her from my mess,” Mingyu breathed. He pointed a finger at Wonwoo’s face. “All while you were pretending to be the savior.”

Wonwoo stared him down, rage rising inside him in dangerous waves. “I didn’t pretend shit. And you didn’t protect her—”

“You wanted me to let her go. Admit it!” Mingyu spat.

“You left her hanging when shit got too real for you.”

Mingyu looked like he was struggling to breathe, his shoulders were tense, his hands flexing at his sides. “So what, that gave you the right to step in?” he huffed, his eyes wild with anger, and something more.

“No,” Wonwoo replied. “But you made it clear that you weren’t going to.”

It happened quickly—Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the shirt and slammed him back into the shelves. Bottles clattered above, Seungcheol coming to grab Mingyu from behind, hooking an arm around his torso, reeling him back.

But Mingyu wrestled against it, rage fueling his whole body. “She was mine—”

“No, she wasn’t!” Wonwoo cut in, finally raising his voice. His eyes widened in exasperation after being pushed back. But he didn’t relent. “Not anymore. You walked away. I was there to see her fall apart. Not you.”

“And then what?” Mingyu spat, his voice rising, gaining a raspy edge: “You—you thought you’d be the better man?”

“No. I thought she deserved someone who actually stayed.”

That did it.

Mingyu stood there, his body completely rigid to the exception of his face. He was breaking hard, grinding his teeth as though biting his words back. There was a glint in his eyes, the words had stung.

Unblinking, his fist flew before he could exert any kind of control over himself. His knuckles found the centre of Wonwoo’s mouth, making his head snap back, and sending his body back against the shelves.

The bottles behind him rattled, one of them tipping over and falling beside Wonwoo’s feet.

It was fast and sharp—pain tickled instantly inside his mouth, spreading all over the soft tissue inside his lip. Instinctively, Wonwoo staggered back, bringing a hand to his mouth as blood trickled down his open lip. He caught himself, dazed, shocked and worst of all—hurt.

Mingyu froze.

Wonwoo raised his eyes at Mingyu, waiting for the next blow but it never came. Mingyu dropped his fist at his side like it had suddenly gotten burned. Like it had betrayed him.

“Wonwoo—” he started, his voice shaky and strangely hollow. “I didn’t mean—”

“Enough.”

Seungcheol’s voice cracked between them like lightning. He brought a hand to the centre of Mingyu’s chest, easily pushing him back. “The fuck’s wrong with you two?”

And Mingyu didn’t fight him this time. He staggered back too, looking pale and shaken, his eyes set on Wonwoo’s face—but there was no trace of that fiery anger. Mingyu was worried.

“You want to throw punches?” Seungcheol told him, his voice low and menacing like someone who was ready to subdue any class of trouble. “Wanna settle this like fucking kids, then do it outside. Not in my bar.”

Wonwoo used the back of his hand to wipe the blood trickling down and mixing with his saliva. His jaw clenched, his front teeth hurting slightly. He didn’t speak. The smell of alcohol from the smashed bottle filled his senses, anchoring him to reality.

Mingyu had punched him. And he’d fully deserved it. In fact, part of him wanted it to hurt more.

Seungcheol looked between them. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you two?” he reproached, his voice stern like a disappointed parent. “You. Outside. Now,” he ordered, pointing his finger at Mingyu.

Mingyu’s shoulders went slack, but he didn’t resist. Turning around, Wonwoo caught a glimpse of Mingyu’s face before he walked out, letting the door close softly behind him, and all rage simmered down.

Seungcheol turned, kicking a large piece of broken glass. Wonwoo motioned to get the broom, but Seungcheol raised a palm to him. “Leave it,” he said, studying Wonwoo’s face. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Wonwoo felt ashamed. Of himself, of what he’d brought to Seungcheol’s bar.

“Why did you do that?” Seungcheol asked, his tone laced with curiosity but something else, a quiet judgement.

Wonwoo dared to raise his gaze to the man who had been his business partner for years now. Despite of years of knowing each other, Wonwoo had never let something so personal show. He always kept everything concealed. So he wasn’t surprised to see the concern and real disappointment behind Seungcheol’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” Wonwoo finally replied.

But that was a lie. Weeks of being with you had taught him that there’s no such thing as a straight answer. Not when it came to love and all the complications that his heart has put him through.

He betrayed Mingyu, yes. But he never intended to. Just as he never intended to fall in love with you.

“Grab a plastic bag and ice before that lip swells more,” Seungcheol instructed, the muscles of his face had relaxed.

“Sure,” Wonwoo muttered, lowering his gaze again.

Seungcheol sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re dismissed for today.”

Wonwoo’s heart dropped, raising his head to meet Seungcheol’s eye. “I can still work—”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “I need you to take the day off,” he stated, his tone stern, but there was worry in his eyes. “For your sake. You look like hell, not only that, but you’d have to be crazy if you didn’t feel like hell. And I need you two to stay away from each other for a day, okay?”

Wonwoo almost tried to persuade him to tell Seungcheol to let him work tonight instead of Mingyu. He needed this job, not for the money, or to be somewhere other than at home. He just needed to fill his head with noise, drown the voice in his head telling him he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he nodded curtly. “Okay, boss,” he muttered.

And that might’ve been the first time he’d taken a break from The Spot.

The air was cold outside. The light rain pattered softly on the windshields of the two cars parked behind the bar.

Mingyu leaned back against the wall, looking skyward. It was painted a pale grey, spotted with slightly darker clouds. He blinked as tiny droplets of water landed on his forehead and cheeks.

His hand was trembling.

Between all the things happening inside his head, Mingyu was concerned with one in particular—why?

The door opened, and the loud metallic creaking made his ears ring a little.

Mingyu didn’t look at Wonwoo. Shame heated from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, making them red. He knew he’d made a terrible mistake. It was his first time throwing a punch with the full intention to start a fight. And he regretted it immediately.

“I didn’t mean to hit you,” Mingyu muttered, closing his eyes before swallowing the knot in his throat.

Wonwoo didn’t answer.

Mingyu lowered his face after a moment of silence. His eyes brimmed with shameful tears when he saw Wonwoo pressing a pack of ice to his mouth.

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo said, lifting the pack to show him a clean cut to his lip, already swollen and flaring red. “It’s nothing.”

Mingyu dropped his gaze to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just—I didn’t—what you said—” he cut himself off, running a hand down his face.

“I’m sorry too,” Wonwoo finally said, his voice breaking a little.

Mingyu nodded slowly. “I trusted you.”

Wonwoo flinched, the words hitting worse than any punch could. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

And that did it.

The shame, the guilt. Everything that Mingyu had been bottling up from the moment he saw your photos on Wonwoo’s computer came crashing down on him like a thousand bricks.

Why, why, why?

Mingyu sniffled quietly, his gaze lowered but Wonwoo could get a glimpse of the glistening below his eyes, the lonely tears that trickled down his cheeks. “I saw the photos on your computer.”

Wonwoo’s heart stammered. Of all of the possible ways Mingyu could’ve put the pieces together, this was one of the worst. Because when he took those photos, they didn’t mean anything to him yet. You were just a thought in Wonwoo’s mind. A friend. Someone he wanted to get to know more because you were hurting.

Wonwoo lowered the ice pack to his side, the shift and the chill air made the cut sting. But he didn’t pay attention to it. “She asked me for space.”

Mingyu blinked, raising his face. “What?”

“She said she needed time for herself,” he said. “She didn’t want this to happen, you know?”

Mingyu exhaled. The statement had hurt him, like something had rung with familiarity. “She told me the same thing. That she needed to heal,” he said, his tone weak. “So you two are not…”

Wonwoo shook his head gently. “No. I’m not seeing her anymore.”

Mingyu didn’t respond, the words had shaken him. He was breathing hard again, and Wonwoo could guess that it was just as painful to Mingyu as it was to him.

“I think she’s trying to find herself again outside of all of this mess—me, you, her ex. Everything.”

Mingyu frowned. “Her ex?” he asked, his gaze softening in acknowledgement. “Did he come back?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “He’s getting married. Told her it should’ve been her instead of his actual partner.”

Mingyu blinked, realization hitting him as he sighed heavily. “Fuck,” he ran a hand down his face. He laughed bitterly, his eyes still wet with tears. “And there I was, thinking that if I told her I loved her, I would fix everything.”

Wonwoo didn’t say a thing.

Mingyu tilted his head back again, looking at the sky for a long second. His breathing was even now, but the hurt in his face was still there, hardening his features. He turned slightly, looking now at Wonwoo.

“Do you love her?” Mingyu asked.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth parting. But he gave a single nod. “Yes. I do.”

Mingyu blinked away slowly, swallowing hard again. “What now?”

Wonwoo was expecting this question. In the midst of everything, this was the only thing that mattered. The only thing that remained. He and Mingyu.

“I don’t know. She’s not with you. She’s not with me. I think that we should let her breathe. In the meantime, we should try and figure out how to clean up this mess.”

Mingyu stood there, looking at the sky as silence stretched on.

This wasn’t really about you anymore. It was about trying to figure out who both Mingyu and Wonwoo were after this irreversible step.

“Do you think you can forgive me?” Wonwoo asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” Mingyu replied, his tone thickening. “You should’ve told me before.”

“I was going to tell you. I was looking for the right time to do it.”

“I don’t want to be mad at you,” Mingyu said, his chest deflating with a sigh. “Help me understand why you did it.”

Wonwoo looked away for the first time. Going back to the memory was even more painful than he thought. “I thought you had used her to forget Gigi,” he confessed.

“What?!” Mingyu exclaimed, his tone rising. “You think I’d do that?”

Wonwoo blinked, getting a glimpse of Mingyu’s hurt expression. “Even then I thought it was strange you’d do that. But you need to understand—you changed, Mingyu. After Gigi, you shut me out and didn’t talk to me… I thought that all of this was the aftermath of your breakup with her.”

Mingyu gaped in shock and utter disappointment. “I told you how I felt about her. Many times.”

Wonwoo tilted his head to one side, his brows knitting softly. “But you also told me how you weren’t all in, remember? You told me that you couldn’t stomach the thought of commitment, but then you would go back to her,” he said.

“I still don’t understand why you would do this,” Mingyu pointed out.

Wonwoo stilled. “I never meant to get close to her, believe me. We became friends, we got closer… and things got blurry after that.”

Mingyu exhaled, his face twisting in pain. “So all this time I’ve been wallowing like an idiot, you were—”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo called his tone stern and low. “You slept with her and the next day you dumped her. I’m not saying you should’ve done things differently, but you weren’t being honest with yourself, and that complicated things when you finally decided to let her go.”

Mingyu squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered it well—the night you told him about your ex, about how badly you were hurt. And he told you multiple times he wouldn’t leave you. He remembered how scared he was at the thought of breaking your heart, of being the same person Gigi was to him.

And he did it anyway.

“I fucked up,” Mingyu said bitterly, sniffling quietly.

“But she still loves you.”

Mingyu raised his teary eyes, blinking slowly. “S-she told me something similar,” he said.

Wonwoo nodded. “She never intended to hurt you—while she was with me,” he lowered his gaze. “But she was convinced that you didn’t want her anymore.”

“And you let her believe that,” Mingyu replied pointedly.

“Mingyu, you didn’t know what you wanted,” Wonwoo said, trying to put his best friend into his perspective. But no matter how hard he tried to flip things into his view, he knew he also did wrong. “But yeah, I also wanted her. It didn’t matter to me that she was using me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Mingyu exhaled, his gut twisting in resentment. “Did you seriously think I would not be mad at you for that?”

“I never believed you’d sit right with it,” he countered. “But I also… I also never thought it would go that far and when it did, I couldn’t stop it.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes,” Mingyu mumbled, looking skyward again.

A moment went on in silence. Mingyu stared at the clouds, feeling like a complete idiot. He let you go and in your pain you sought comfort with his best friend. There was no room in his head to explain why you would do this. Was it revenge on him for leaving you so abruptly?

You said you loved him. The day he saw you for the last time. He remembered the brittle look on your face, the tears that formed in your eyes when you told him you had changed.

No, you wouldn’t do this as a form of revenge. Mingyu has known you since you and he were teenagers. Sure, you were never this close back then, but he knew your true nature. Kind, honest, and so loving. And the last time he saw you, he felt that part of you just wasn’t there anymore. Even when you confessed that you loved him too, there was something fractured.

“I broke her,” Mingyu said, the words slipping out of him in a quiet sigh.

You had opened up to him, shown you the vulnerable side of you and he left you afterwards.

“You did what was right for you,” Wonwoo said. “And she… she just needs to do what is right for her now.”

Mingyu nodded, but his gaze had fell out of focus. “Yeah…” he trailed off. “I’ll leave her be.”

One truth was that when his fist collided with Wonwoo’s face, his rage dissipated. It didn’t mean that he’d let go of the resentment he felt, but he was less angry about it. He still needed to understand why everything had happened the way it did, but for that, he needed your side of the story.

“Not everything’s forgiven,” Mingyu said, his voice barely a croak. “But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I don’t fully comprehend why you did that the way you did. You could’ve told me before, even if you knew I was going to be mad.”

Wonwoo listened, looking at Mingyu intently. “You’re right. You deserved to know sooner. And I’m sorry for hurting you. That wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?” Mingyu asked.

“I’ve told you everything,” Wonwoo confirmed, giving him a tight nod.

Mingyu blinked slowly, letting out a labored sigh. “I need some time to think about this whole mess,” he said.

“I’ll give you time,” Wonwoo replied almost immediately. “And if you need to talk, I’ll be ready.”

Before the moment stretched too long, Mingyu turned to the door, opening it so Wonwoo could come back inside with him.

“You go,” Wonwoo muttered, his lip having swollen slightly.

Mingyu paused, still holding the door handle.

“I’ve been dismissed for today,” Wonwoo explained shortly. And after seeing Mingyu’s face contort slightly in worry, he added: “Seungcheol thought it’s better for us to stay apart for the rest of the day.”

Mingyu huffed dryly, sending a look upwards. “It’s not like I’m going to hit you again,” he joked. “See you back home,” he said humourlessly now, disappearing after the door and shutting it behind him.

Wonwoo’s mouth pressed into a tight line despite the cut still pulsing on his lip. All alone, he could face the silence bravely, with a steady heart. The silence told him everything he needed to know—he’d done a terrible mistake.

All his life he had made decisions carefully. If he had to think three or five times about something, he did it. But when he met you, he felt he had never been in control. He got to know you and never realized how you broke down all his walls.

The night he kissed you for the first time was the most impulsive he’s ever been in his life. And he made that decision only because his heart truly desired it. But now he knew the consequences of his actions. He acted out of love and affection and in the process hurt his best friend and lost you.

Everything that remained was a painful lesson—Wonwoo would never act on his heart again.

Mingyu ran a hand down his face.

The soft piano music coming from the speakers of the café was almost unsettling him. It was too quiet, too calm, while his head was banging and thrashing with horrible thoughts.

He wasn’t ready for this.

It had been an impulsive decision.

If this went badly, at least he could blame it on acting without considering the possible consequences.

He wasn’t ready for this, yes. But he also felt in his heart like he needed it.

Coming to this café wasn’t his idea. It was his first time there, so he limited himself to buying a cold brew americano. That way, he could have an excuse to sit down at one of the tiny tables that were cramped with several others.

He bounced his knee obsessively, frantically as he eyed the time displayed on his lockscreen.

This time, there was no need to prepare a stupid speech. He knew what he wanted to say because those were things he hadn’t been able to let go of. Now that he saw things from a different perspective, he wished he had done this long before he let you go.

But it was too late to turn back time.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the chair opposite to his move.

Gigi sat down, fixing her hair nervously.

The first thing Mingyu noticed was that she avoided eye contact. Her face was lowered, but left to Mingyu’s expert eye. She looked exactly how he remembered, prim, composed. Her caramel-brown hair was loose in fluffy waves that splayed over her shoulders. Her milky white skin had an unnatural glow to it, the blush near her cheekbones pink and glittery. There was a beauty mark on her cheek, the same one Mingyu used to kiss lovingly.

His stomach tightened.

Gigi raised her face, smiling at him softly, but the joy never reached her brown eyes. “Hi, Mingyu,” she cooed like this encounter was meant to be sweet.

He nodded once, trying to remain polite. But the truth was, he was beginning to regret this. “Gigi.”

“You look good,” she said, eyeing him from the waist up. “Stronger.”

He didn’t reply, feeling like he couldn’t return any kind of compliment.

And his silence unsettled her. She neatly folded her hands on the table, pursing her lips. “I’m so glad you reached out. I’ve been meaning to talk for a while now.”

“I know you have,” Mingyu replied dryly, his voice gruff. “But I didn’t come here to talk. I just wanted to say something.”

She gaped for a second. “O-okay.”

A pause followed, which Mingyu used to arrange his words as best as he possibly could. But there was no better way to say this. “You broke something in me.”

She blinked, the muscles of her face contracting slightly.

But he didn’t let her speak. “After you cheated, I couldn’t look at myself the same. I kept thinking that it was just me. That I was paranoid. That if I had done something else you wouldn’t have cheated.”

She stiffened completely on her seat, hiding her face as she inclined her head forward. “It wasn’t about you,” she said softly.

Mingyu couldn’t believe her, but he breathed in, letting her say her piece.

“I was a mess back then,” she said quietly. “I was upset with myself, and I never believed I deserved you, so I guess I just acted that out by doing what I did to you.”

Mingyu blinked slowly, feeling more surprised than hurt at hearing Gigi’s words. He hated for a fraction of a second that Gigi wasn’t saying explicitly what she did to him. But he couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I know that now,” he said. “But back then, I didn’t. And someone tried to love me after you, and I hurt her because I didn’t trust love anymore. I kept thinking that something had to go wrong. And maybe that’s on me. But I never told you that.”

She raised her face again, her eyes widened and glazed over. “Are you still mad at me?” she asked, her tone rising in disbelief.

“No,” he said, not caring about the falsity in her voice. “Not mad. Just done.”

Gigi’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard. “Is this about her?” she blurted, losing composure. “About that girl you’re seeing?”

Mingyu remained expressionless, but it took everything he got to do so. He didn’t want to question how Gigi knew about you, or comment about the way she referred to you. But he took another deep breath, letting his heart bleed at the memory of you.

“It is,” he conceded stiffly. “I found someone who made me feel good after what happened with you,” now it was his turn to lower his face, but just briefly. “I pushed her away because I didn’t trust myself.”

Her lips pursed again, and there was a certain way she blinked. A fleeting roll of her eyes. “Do you want me to apologize?”

He shook his head, hearing the dismissal in her tone.

But she did it anyway. “I didn’t mean to ruin you.”

Mingyu tried to ignore it, the venom in her words but still masked in a sweet way. “You didn’t ruin me,” he said, not hiding his annoyance. “But you cheated on me and made me feel crazy for not trying to salvage our relationship. You left with him, and I stayed fucked.”

“And I hated myself after. I still do,” she said, her voice dropping.

Mingyu softened, his heart faltering. But he commanded himself to stand his ground. “Then this isn’t just for me. Maybe you needed to hear it too.”

She made no comment, she remained crestfallen and playing with the golden rings around her fingers.

Mingyu remained studying her, wondering why he felt absolutely nothing. Not even pity. Somewhere in his mind, he compared his story with Gigi to his story with you. He realized that Gigi’s betrayal was something she had built for weeks, she lied and hid while sharing his bed. Meanwhile, he felt like he was in no position to judge you. He hurt you first, played with your time and then walked away when you needed him the most.

His heart hurt when the memory of you sitting on the bleachers flashed behind his eyelids. The way you hugged yourself tightly as you crumbled, sobbing as he walked away.

If you had found love with Wonwoo, then Mingyu felt like he couldn’t really blame you.

“I still think about us,” she admitted with a sad tone. “About what he had. What we could’ve—”

Mingyu cut her off. “What we had was dishonest. I loved you. And you lied to me,” he said.

She blinked fast. “Do you love her?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Gigi took in a breath as though she’d been slapped. But she said nothing, she gulped hard, swallowing her words.

“I’m not here to talk about second chances,” Mingyu added, sighing through his nose. “I’m here because I don’t want you to look for me anymore. And I just want to have closure on what happened between us.”

Mingyu noticed her gaze disconnecting somewhere in the middle of what he was saying. She didn’t get what she wanted. And it was then that he realized that he wouldn’t either.

She lowered her face, sniffling quietly but no tears came. “I’m sorry, Mingyu.”

He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Me too.”

And when he stood up, she didn’t stop him.

As he approached the door, he didn’t cast a look over his shoulder to see her one more time. All the love and resentment he had for her had been buried the moment he stepped outside of the café. 

He pulled in a big breath, feeling freer despite still having a weight in his chest.

But for the first time in months, he felt that he’d made the right decision.

☾ author's note ii: hey, everyone

sorry for being absent for the past few days. life has been a bit hard for me and i was in no condition to write. i wanted to, but couldn't. between job hunting, saving money to move and so on, i had to take a break for my sake.

but what made things better for me were you guys, who kept sending me loving messages and asking about me, which kept me grounded. thank you all for looking out for me, y'all make me feel special 🥹🩵

this chapter was... difficult to write in some parts. it felt like i was speaking to myself. and honestly, this entire fic is so deeply personal that it took me so long to update it. i posted the first chapter on september 2024... and then left it to collect dust until april 2025.

i really need to stop self-inserting in my fics. kdfjgh but i know that i won't. it's just impossible to me.

anyway, if you liked this chapter, feel free to tell me in the comments? i try to reply to all of your feedback, and if i don't reply, trust me i'm always smiling when i see your comments and your reblogs. you guys don't know how happy you make me with your comments, asks and reblogs!

that's it from me for now, i love you all

toodles!

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