flowers4gyu

[flowers4gyu]

Attraction

Word Count: 412

Summary - You found it difficult to resist dancing to the beat while the tension filled the room. His fixed gaze making it hard to breathe.

Warnings - suggestive, mistakes, short

Al Haitham x AFAB!reader

=== 

After finishing your eye makeup and making sure your dress was sitting right, you got up and walked towards the door. Your black heels clicking softly against the cold tiles. Twisting the doorknob, you mentally prepared yourself to be greeted by some weirdo. (But this wasn't the case.) Instead you found yourself shocked and pale as a ghost as your sworn enemy was sitting right there in front of you. “Al... Al Haitham? What are you doing here?!” you shout. “Isn’t it obvious? Considering where we are, I'm expecting a show, of course.” He replies with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Was this some cruel prank? You're sure you hadn’t done something that bad to him to the point he would show up at your workplace. So why was he here? “You? Want a dance?” you couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. “You're kidding me, right?” “Y/n.” Shit. He wasn't serious, was he? “Why? Why me?” is all you could get out as his voice replays in your head. “You know, I've always liked you, y/n; I'm surprised you never caught on, really.” You didn’t say anything, not daring to move in fear that he would continue this confession. This couldn't happen. It was wrong. You always hated him, right? “Tell me, Y/n, why is it that you refuse to dance?” Almost instantly you snap at him. “This is ridiculous! I—I mean me and you?! No! We hate each other, don't we?” Rolling his eyes, he rubs his jaw. “We did, or so we pretended we did at least. Please tell me, y/n, do you feel the same?” You couldn't deny how unbelievably hot he was right now. His biceps bulged out of his tight shirt. Legs spread wide in a manspread so perfectly, it looked as if they were inviting you in. Fuck. What was this man doing to you? “Yes.”. 

And here you were, dressed up all pretty, dancing shamelessly in front of your sworn enemy. Hips swaying as your hands glide down your plush thighs. This is wrong... but why did it feel so right? You found it difficult to resist dancing to the beat while the tension filled the room. His fixed gaze made it hard to breathe. “Good girl, just like that,” Al Haitham purred, his deep voice sending heat straight down to your core.

Just how were you going to get yourself out of this mess?

[flowers4gyu]

A night to remember

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings - CRINGE, smut, minors dni!! (ik u will anyway),

Kafka x AFAB!reader

===

You and Kafka had been living together for quite some time now, your bond growing closer each day you spent together. This day was just an ordinary day, you had just been out buying some fancy wine to settle down and relax like you two always did after a long day of work. Reaching your front door, Kafka swiftly puts the key into the door and twists it to reveal the cozy interior of your shared apartment.

You quickly slip your shoes off as you two enter the house and rest your coat on the hook next to the door. Your eyes travel to your roommate as she disappears into the bathroom. Setting the wine down, you open your cabinet to fetch two slim glasses. The cool glass calms your nerves. You don't know why or when these feelings for your roommate had suddenly come but you suspected it was from all those times she treated you as her lover even though you were just friends who helped each other to relieve some stress every now and then. Everything about her was perfect. Who wouldn't fall in love with such an angelic woman?

Shaking these thoughts away , your ears perked up realizing that Kafka had started herself a bath and was playing some music.  A romantic yet slow song filled your ears. This was the song that played when you two had shared your first intimate time. Your breath was caught in your throat. Your hands were now shaky, nearly dropping the glass in your hand. “Y/n darling?, could you pour me some of that wine?”  Carefully you try not to spill the wine everywhere. Hurrying over to the bathroom you knock on the door to not disturb her privacy.

“Come in, no need to be shy, nothing you haven’t seen before” she shouts out with a breathy chuckle. Eyes glued to the ground you shyly give her the glass. “Shy now are we?” she giggles. “ Look at me.” Slowly you raise your eyes to her pink ones. A blush prominent on your cheeks. Her velvety hair was sprawled out wet, against the side of the tub. Her arm lazily hanging out. Hand gripping the wine glass. Her eyes were filled with something but you weren't sure what. Was it lust? Or just friendliness? God you hated how this woman could make you fold just by something so simple as eye contact.

“S-sorry” You finally muttered out. “Speak up , dear.” Avoiding eye contact once again, you speak up “I said I'm sorry.” “Sorry? Please, what are you apologizing for?” A smirk on her face. “I-i..i don't know shit, sorry” A laugh escapes her oh so kissable lips. “Baby, there's nothing to be sorry for.” she says while reaching over tucking your hair behind your ear. At this point you were as red as Himeko's hair. “Join me” “J-join you..?” You replied nearly choking on your own spit (though you wished it was hers). “Yes, is that not what I said?” a low chuckle following her sly reply. “I- uhm..ok..” turning around you begin to strip.

Though you were not facing Kafka, you knew a stupid smile was planted on her gorgeous face. As you turned around to join her you didn't dare face her. You felt her eyes check you out. Your body growing hotter by the second. Setting aside her glass. She finally speaks up to break the silence (or more so sexual tension). “Y/n..” “Y-yes?” Licking her lips she says “ You're so pretty, you know that?" Her voice was laced with lust and admiration. Awkwardly fidgeting with your hair you look up into her doe eyes. Though she did not say anything about needing you.., you knew she needed you as bad as you needed her. “Fuck..” “I..I don't know how to say this y/n” clearing her throat she finally speaks. “I like you- no, I think I love you.” You honestly did not expect to hear this, especially not from Kafka. She always acted like she was superior and you never thought she would stop to indulge in the world of love.

But here you were. Sitting in a bath as she confessed her love for you. You couldn't help but smile “I love you too, Kafka” You watched as she shuffled closer to you. You both stared into eachothers eyes, blushing and smiling like fools. Flicking her eyes from yours she looks down to your lips. “May I kiss you?”  “Please..” That's all she needed to hear. Her soft lips connected to yours. Her lips tasted like wine and strawberry chapstick. Your lips molded into eachothers perfectly. You swore you could feel her heart thumping against your skin as she pulled you closer. Pulling apart she dives her head into the crook of your neck while her hand slowly slides up your leg towards your heat. “Mhm..kafka, stop teasing.” “What is it that you want? Hm? Come on, use your words for me, can you do that?” God even when you guys fuck she never drops her cocky persona. All you could manage was a few small pathetic whimpers into her shoulder as her hands flick over your clit. “What?, cat got your tongue?” “ah- please I need you” “Good girl, I knew you could do it” Her slim fingers slowly slid into you. Her mouth latched onto yours, swallowing your moans. Your nails scratching at her back. Your hips rutting forward to try to get her fingers deeper inside you.

Not liking how you did this without her permission she puts her right hand on your stomach to hold you down. Pulling out of the kiss you moan loudly not caring if the apartments next door could hear you. “Yeah? You like that, baby?” “Mhm, fuck love it so much” Hearing this she speeds her pace up knowing you were close. After your previous intimate nights she knew your body like the back of her hand. She knew exactly how you liked it. How you liked it when she curled her fingers inside you. So that's exactly what she did. She speed up while curling her pretty fingers in you. “I'm close!” you basically shouted at her. “Now now…cum when I say” Holding back your release you cry into her shoulder. Lifting your head off her shoulder, she slips two of her fingers from her free hand into your mouth to silence you. “Cum.” Your body shakes as you finally release on her fingers. “Such a good girl..”  she tells you as she watches you ride her fingers so you could come down from your high. “You did such a good job, sweetheart,” she whispered into your ear. She said while pulling her fingers out of your mouth and your wet sex. “I love you” you said with half lidded eyes. “I love you more,” she replied, kissing your forehead. You lent back into her as you both sat there in silence enjoying the bath and each other's presence.

[flowers4gyu]

Truths We Keep

Word Count : 1.6k

Warnings - bad, murder, angst (?)

-Moonjo x Jongwoo-

===

Drip Drip. All Jongwoo could hear was the dripping sound of the metallic liquid that covered him head to toe. His once white shirt, now stained a crimson red. The knife's pointed blade coated in the red substance.

A beaming smile crossed his slender face. Has this feeling always been here? The feeling of excitement when he takes someone's life? Was it always this entertaining to observe as the life slowly exits his victim's body?

No, no, he shouldn’t think like this. After all, Moonjo was to blame. It was him who had turned Jongwoo into this person. If Moonjo had just left him alone, he might have been leading a regular, sane life. 

Still, a sense of euphoria coursed through his body as he stared down at the mess in front of him. Nothing could stop him from laughing. His body slumped against the cold concrete wall. His head was thrown back as a deep chuckle rippled from his throat. Tears welled in his eyes. Why was he crying? He never cried. Never. The last time he recalled crying was when he had lost his best friend. So why was he crying over something that he deemed to be so trivial?

He dismissed these feelings as a lack of sleep. His laughter echoed off the alleyway's walls and only got louder. His head raced with several questions and thoughts, but one stuck out to him. ‘Should I kill Moonjo or thank him the next time I see him?’ He was unsure. However, he was aware that the bastard deserved a slow and painful death. It was decided. Next time he sees Moonjo, he will kill him.

Jongwoo’s laughter dulled into a quiet chuckle before halting at the sound of slow clapping. “Amazing. Truly amazing.” The intruder whispered into the cold air. A breath of admiration leaving the unknown man’s lips. “Babe.” A sharp breath left Jungwoo’s lungs. His tears dried up along with his mouth. Moonjo. “You know, when I first looked at you, I knew we were the same. The darkness your eyes held and that bright mind of yours.” Moonjo purred, his voice laced with sincerity. “Yet you still seem to amaze me. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, babe.” He praised, eyes looking down at the dead body in front of him.

Walking closer, Moonjo spoke again. “Why so quiet? Don't tell me you're scared." Jongwoo’s breath hitched in his throat. It felt like his body was failing him. His throat tightened, his legs wobbled, and his hands shook. “Moonjo?” Jongwoo’s voice quivered. “Yes, babe?” Moonjo stared at him with a devilish grin. “I’m going to kill you.” Jongwoo’s voice came out in a hushed whisper. “What was that, babe?” Moonjo crouched so they were now face to face. “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” Jongwoo shouted before swinging his fist into Moonjo’s jaw. Moonjo’s head cocked to the side with a harsh snap, yet his body remained still. 

The awkward silence that ensued added to the tension between the two. Moonjo spoke again, his head still turned to the left. "I enjoy it when you act so aggressive, even if it's towards me.” His voice sounded husky and filled with desire. “Why?” Moonjo shifted his head back to face the younger man. “Why, what babe?” “Why me?” In response, Moonjo shook his head at Jongwoo and lifted himself back to his regular height. He replied, “You’re perfect. Don’t you get it? You are a work of art. My own invention.”

Moonjo gazed into Jongwoo’s eyes and brushed a small curl behind his ear. His hair has gotten so long, Moonjo thought. “Do you understand that? You're mine." Jongwoo whacked Moonjo’s hand away and retracted his body from the tight hold."I am not your possession." Jongwoo said, getting up to leave. "Haven't you been curious about my whereabouts? or more importantly, what I’ve been up to?” The lanky man shouted at the other, bloodied man. Hearing this, Jongwoo paused and spun to face the taller man. "Excuse me? What gives you the impression that I even remotely care about you?” Jongwo accused. "I can see it in your eyes, how much you miss me." Moonjo replied quickly, almost as if he knew what Jongwoo was going to say.

Jongwoo’s eyes widened in surprise at the person before him. “What?” he whispered before getting cut off by Moonjo. “There's no use pretending, babe.” The sound of Jongwoo’s heavy breathing cut into the unbearable silence that followed Moonjo’s statement. “I know you imagine me there by your side when you kill, maybe even imagining it was me beneath your blade. Maybe that's why you enjoy it so much—the thought of me is present even in the most vulnerable of moments.” Jongwoo’s eyes twitched in anger, yet he couldn’t deny the way his words described him so perfectly. “The only time I bother to remember your pathetic face is when I imagine all the ways I want to kill you.” Hearing this, Moonjo’s smile only widened. “Oh? Is that so? Tell me more, Jongwoo.” His name sounded so nice rolling off his tongue.

Unsure as to what to reply with, Jongwoo clenched his fists again and prepared to leap onto the man; despite how much he wanted to tell him, to let his anger out, to shout and scream, words were simply not enough. He had to kill Moonjo to ease his mind, to ease his pain, to put an end to this cat-and-mouse chase once and for all. Perhaps this would put him onto the right path, the same path he was so happily walking along until Moonjo came and took that opportunity right out of his hands. “I hate you, Moonjo; I always have and always will. You showing up changes nothing; I will always hate you.” 

Silence coated the air in a suffocating and unbearable stillness. A soft chuckle broke through the tension, snapping Jongwoo out of his fury-induced trance. Just what was Jongwoo doing to him? All Jongwoo would do is push and push Moonjo away. So why did he feel so attached, so connected to this man? Moonjo used to think about this every night in his room while he peered into the hole he had so smartly crafted in the wall to watch Jongwoo while he slept unknowingly. Jongwoo had always been so perfect, an outstanding young man. Someone who succeeded in everything he did. No matter what Jongwoo did, Moonjo would always find him perfect. From his poetry to the way he would wash his hair. He had Moonjo hooked. He needed to know him—or, well, rather ruin him. He had strategically molded Jongwoo into his own creation. A man of power. A man who held the choice of whether someone got to live or die. Whether his character in his book would kill by gutting or by strangling his victim with a guitar string. Jongwoo was his, and nothing would be able to change that, even Jongwoo himself.

“We both know you don’t mean that.” Moonjo smoothly whispered into his ear, an unsettling smile stretching wide across his face. Jongwoo’s confidence was fading with each moment they held eye contact. “I mean it, Moonjo, I hate you for what you did to me, what you’ve made me become.” Jongwoo bit back, hoping to regain some dignity. “I made you do this? Oh please, I only opened your eyes to the side of you that you so desperately hoped to ignore.” Moonjo harshly yelled, “I introduced you to your real self; I showed you who you really were. It’s not my fault we happen to be so much alike.” Moonjo answered while still holding eye contact. “Take Yoo Gi-Hyeok, for example. I opened his eyes to who he really was, which turned out to be that he was a greedy and selfish man.” This time Moonjo broke eye contact. “You, Jongwoo, are an incredibly talented artist. Someone who not only rids the world of men like Yoo Gi-Hyeok but someone who creates beautiful pieces of art and poetry using the deaths of his victims as an inspiration.” Moonjo let out a small chuckle, “You are perfect, my perfect invention.”

Jongwoo wanted to snap back, to warn Moonjo to back off, to tell him that he's not his ‘invention.’ But yet no words came out. Not even a single snarky remark. With this, Moonjo simply smiled and leaned forward to wipe the blood off Jongwoo's cheek. Taking the smeared blood on his slim finger into his mouth. “Make sure to clean this up; wouldn’t want people to ask questions, now would you?” Moonjo said, cupping Jongwoo’s pale cheek. With this, Moonjo straightened himself up and uttered one last thing, “Take care of yourself, Jongwoo.” 

Footsteps slowly began to echo off the alleyways’ walls as Moonjo took his leave. “Moonjo! Where are you going? We're not done here!” Jongwoo yelled out after the fading figure. Pausing, Moonjo turned to face Jongwoo once more, “We’ll see each other again, babe; don't worry.” Moonjo smirked. “So what? You're just going to leave like you did that day at the hospital?” Jongwoo screamed into the cool air, interrupting the peace and tranquility that followed Moonjo’s previous statement. “I’ve always been there with you, Jongwoo. I always will be.” Moonjo whispered, turning to face the end of the alleyway once more, walking away from Jongwoo, with no doubt that the two would meet again. 

With this, Jongwoo was left in an empty—well, almost empty—alleyway with his racing mind and sore heart. Jongwoo had gotten what he had wished for: Moonjo finally left him alone. But now he wasn’t so sure that's what he wanted. He couldn’t help the way his heart hurt watching Moonjo walk away, unsure if Moonjo really meant what he had said. All Jongwoo could do was hope that the two would cross paths again. Even if it meant meeting at the end of each other's blades.