#and CONSTANTLY low-key have a cold

[eclips-moon]

The Batboys being clingy headcanon:

Including Duke and Bruce <3

Hope you guys like it!

Tim Drake Tim’s clinginess is low-key, but it’s also constant. He’s the type to text you “What’s up? I miss you <3” while you’re just sitting 5 feet away from him. If you so much as stand up to go get a snack, he’s immediately there, like, “Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” He’ll lean against you, his hand finding yours without him even realizing it. When you're watching TV or reading, he’s definitely leaning into your side, trying to get as close as possible without being too obvious. But if you move to shift positions? Nope, he’s following you. He’ll slip his arm around your waist, all like, “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.” He’s not a big PDA guy, but when it’s just the two of you? Prepare for cuddles, hand-holding, and small, random kisses. He’s gotta be touching you constantly.

Jason Todd Jason is obsessive, no doubt. He’s that partner who’ll try to act like he’s tough and independent, but the moment you show him any kind of affection, he’s all over you. Like, you can’t just hug him. No. He’ll climb into your lap and basically trap you there, rubbing his face into your neck like a cat. He’s gonna constantly ask for kisses, too, but not just little pecks—he wants full-on, deep kisses where he can pull you close and remind you that you’re his. If you’re doing something, like, working or even hanging out with friends, he’ll try to drag you away, be like, “Hey, come hang out with me, stop ignoring me for two seconds.” He’s possessive, but in the cutest way, constantly needing your attention. If you even talk to another person for too long, he’ll give them side-eye and pull you back to him like, “You good? You’re not gonna leave me for some random guy, are you?” He’s also the type to cling to you in bed, hogging the covers and curling up like a human koala.

Dick Grayson Dick’s clingy energy is pure gold. He’s the most affectionate of the bunch and doesn’t shy away from public displays of love. He loves hugging you from behind, nuzzling into your neck, and just randomly planting kisses all over your face. He’ll text you “miss you <3” every few hours when you’re apart, and when you’re together? It’s all about touch. He’s sitting on your lap, or leaning on your shoulder, or pulling you into his chest just because he needs to be close to you. If you’re watching a movie, he’s definitely going to have his head in your lap, just to be as close to you as humanly possible. He gets giddy when he gets attention from you, too. You could be playing with his hair, and he’ll melt. He’ll whine like, “I’m not clingy, you’re clingy. But also, I love it. So don’t stop.” Honestly, Dick doesn’t care if he’s acting like a bit of a puppy—he’s obsessed with you, and he makes sure you know it.

Damian Wayne Damian’s clingy moments are hilariously dramatic. He might start out cold, acting like he doesn’t need anyone, but as soon as you show him any affection? He’s all in. He’ll randomly grab your hand and hold it like it’s the most important thing in the world. If you try to walk away from him for whatever reason, he’ll growl and pull you back in, like, “Where are you going? You’re staying right here.” He has this whole vibe of “I don’t need anyone else, just you”, so if you’re talking to someone else or looking away from him for too long, he’ll wrap his arm around your waist and be like, “I don’t think you should be talking to them. They might steal you away from me.” In bed? He’s a hug monster, wrapping his arms around you like he’s never letting you go. He’s all about the intimacy, though—when it’s just the two of you, he’ll be soft and surprisingly vulnerable, making sure you know that he needs you more than he lets on.

Duke Thomas Duke is lowkey super clingy, but in the way that’s goofy and endearing. He loves to follow you around, like, just wherever you go, he’s tagging along. You’re going to the kitchen? He’s there. To grab something from the laundry room? He’s there. If you sit down, he’s sitting on the floor next to you, asking if you want to “cuddle and watch dumb shows together.” He’s always finding excuses to touch you—like, his hand will just casually rest on your knee or he’ll come up behind you and play with your hair. And if you don’t give him attention? He’ll pout, even if he’s trying to play it off, like, “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss? C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.” He’s the type who’ll give you a silly smile, lean in for a kiss, and then pull you into a full-on hug like, “Don’t go. I’m not done with you yet.” He’s all about the hugs, especially after a long day. You’ll be just chilling, and suddenly he’s like, “Hug time, right? Let me get one.”

Bruce Wayne Now, Bruce is not the type to openly admit he’s clingy. He’s still the stoic, brooding billionaire who’s been through a lot, but when it’s just the two of you? He’s softer than anyone expects. He’ll always make sure you’re physically close—his hand on your lower back, your legs touching when you sit next to him, and if he’s standing near you, his hand will casually rest on your arm. When you’re working late or doing something serious, Bruce will occasionally pull you away for a few minutes just to kiss you or hold you close. He’s not great at asking for attention, but when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll show you through little gestures. You’ll find him just sitting beside you in silence, just content to be in your presence. He’s a man of few words, but when he’s clingy, it’s all about the touch—the way he holds your hand, how he presses his shoulder to yours, and how he’ll insist on driving you home or waiting up for you, just to make sure you’re safe.

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star chapter five preview

IT'S HERE

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Warnings - just a LOT of angstt, sad shit, mentions of sex, it's gonna be a doozy

“You want to be with him?” You glare at his ridiculous words now.

“I never said that, but would it matter? We are just ‘friends’ right?” Your words are harsh, way too harsh for the sweet girl he knows, and he feels it, the anger rising inside of him, making him so furious at the thought of someone with you.

“So, you’re gonna what, go fuck him?”

“Is that who you think I am!?” He gives a nasty little smirk, it’s a cruel one, something you’ve never seen on his face.

“You had no problem sleeping with me, not knowing me.” You step back, and the moment it spills from his lips, he knows he’s wrong, but he’s so fucking furious, he’s blinded to any good fucking reason. The hurt written on your pretty face is enough to make him feel like getting swallowed whole.

“I trusted you, I felt comfortable with you, the connection I…” you trail off, not wanting to make a bigger fool of yourself. “It wasn’t just random. You really think that’s what it was? A random hot guy I said - huh, let me call him and fuck him?” He tilts his head now, brows lowering.

“Isn’t that what it was, you saw my stream and wanted me? Now you think I’m making it all sexual?” You gasp, teeth clenched, almost unable to breathe you’re so fucking furious.

“You’re trying to fuck me because you’re jealous, so yes, that is making it all sexual. Surprised your phone’s not filming.” You shove at his chest and he grips your wrists, leaning low.

“So what, you got all the expertise you needed? Gonna go apply it to someone now?” Satoru’s words are so hurtful you can’t take it, you feel your heart pounding in your ears as you look at blue eyes gone cold.

“Excuse me, you think I used you for experience!?” He raises a brow then, while your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you drag them from his grip.

“You asked me for experience, remember? Weren’t you the one who started all of this, made it sexual? Asked me to show you things?”

His words resonate through your head until it spins, you have to sit down you feel so fucking sick then. Was he never even interested in you? Was this all you who caused it, who pushed it, when he never wanted it? The thoughts swirl through your mind quicker and quicker, nauseating, you shake your head and blink back tears then, looking up at him.

“I should never have pushed myself on you,” he blinks snowy lashes then, lips parting. “No, I shouldn’t have, you’re right.”

“I didn’t mean it that-”

“I am sorry I did, I’m sorry I asked for that. I was so pathetic.” You barely hold back a cry, and Satoru’s frozen, you have it so wrong, don’t you know his dick literally doesn’t work for anyone!? Don’t you know you’re all he can fucking think of, constantly, every waking moment?

“You never pushed yourself, ever,” he leans down, arms on either side of your chair. “Look at me.”

You do just that, and your tears break him. “What?”

“I didn’t mean it like I didn’t want you, I did. I just meant you crossed the line to make it sexual, that’s not to say I didn’t want to, but you were a good girl.”

“Were. Being the key word. Now I’m what, some pornstar fucking booty call?” You’re shaking your head, swiping at your cheeks, thinking of Jenna’s words. “And it’s all my own doing.”

You’ve lost yourself.

“Baby you’re still a good girl, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You’re right, you never would have hit me up for it, would you have?” Satoru pauses then, hands gripping the arms of your chair so tightly his knuckles whiten.

“I never said that!”

“Why would you, it’s Hollywood, you can have anyone, I just inconvenienced you, I should have never tried to join your world.” You’re standing now, brushing past him, he grips your wrist, his own emotions rising - especially one - panic.

He can’t lose you.

“It’s not what I meant,” he brushes his hand across your cheek, sticky already with your tears, feeling your body tremble as he holds you closer. “I shouldn’t have said it that way, I was just upset.”

“It’s true, don’t take it back now.”

“You think I don’t want you!?” He’s gripping your upper arms, shaking you gently, you’re sniffling, shaking your head as he stares at you in disbelief. “How can you think I don’t?”

“Maybe you felt sorry for me.” Satoru laughs then, without humor, before fucking glaring down at you.

perm tags- @alt--er--love @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @indiewritesxoxo @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoblue-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143 @squeezyvalkyrie @cookielovesbook-akie @oinksa @grignardsreagent @shokosbunny

[rawme-price]

Okay, hybrid!141 and gray seal hybrid!reader, yes?

Sea otter!gaz who loves to swim in the water with you. Sure, its not as fun as the ocean, but the lake by the base is still ice cold and private enough u two feel safe relaxing. Mostly you just drift with, but sometimes gaz is feeling a bit rowdy so u two play-fight. You also low-key scare tf out of some of the newbies bc they thought gaz was trying to drown u lol. Yes, you guys eat raw fish and veg-out, what of it?

Polar bear!ghost who makes sure u dont get ignored. Ur hybrid characteristics present alot stronger than most, meaning Ur lower body is basically that of a seal. For that reason u use a wheelchair to get around base. in a room full of tall-ass and bulking hybrids, they accidentally ignore the shorter people. (You and bug hybrids often share looks of comraderie in the mess hall lol). Ghost is a big guy, and has no problem commanding attention, trailing behind u so people move the fuck out of the way. Yes, you could get them to move if you wanted, but people are alot less likely to fight with a lieutenant than u.

Puffin!soap who constantly fights with you over food. You both really like a specific type of fish and have no qualms abt getting physical over the last bite. Unfortunately for soap, ur a biter and strong as hell. He has to resort to employing ghosts help to even have a chance lol. Though a few warning growls is enough to make the lieutenant back up, soap never learns his lesson. You have sent him to medical before and you will do it again if he touches ur plate!

Pacific walrus!price who likes to pull his teammates into a big cuddle pile after a hard mission, sharing body heat and protection in eacnothers presence. He has, on more than one occasion, completely laid his body weight against u bc u tried to sneak off back to work. Not on his watch! He doesnt care if ur a workaholic, if price is taking a break then so are you. It makes him rumble happily to have everyone so close, so u indulge him.

[quarterlifekitty]

Why the group chat hates him

Gaz: You’re always talking about nice things he did for you. Like sending pictures of the bouquets he gives you (which he does like once a month!) or of souvenirs he brought when he comes home from deployment or romantic notes he left you in your flat. Like I’m pretty sure Jesus said it was a sin to flaunt your wealth in front of the less fortunate or something.

Ghost: On the surface, he looks like a pretty textbook bad boyfriend. Doesn’t ever speak to your friends at gatherings, you’re always the one that plans dates, and you’re always mothering him a little when you go out (asking if he’s comfortable, if he’s still hungry, if he’s tired).

Soap: when he gets drunk (not at all uncommon) he’s constantly angling for a threesome. What they don’t know is that he does it with his friends as well as yours. Equal opportunity whore.

Price: he’s older, and he’s kind of low key a chauvinist sometimes, so it’s really fucking awkward to hang out with him, but because of his more traditional values he does insist on paying for the whole table when you go out somewhere as a group. So they have to put up with him.

Nikolai: Unbearable amounts of PDA. He’s the one who mothers you. Asking if you’re cold, if you’re tired, if you need help opening things. Kissing your forehead, petting your cheek, rubbing your thigh, nuzzling noses. God it’s fucking awkward.

Graves: Acts too familiar. Kind of like an overbearing relative at a family gathering.

Rudy: this one is really petty but. He doesn’t blink enough.

König: you’re always turning down invites because of him. You won’t go anywhere slightly loud or slightly crowded because “König doesn’t really like places like that”. Bitch he doesn’t like going anywhere!!!!

[giuliannna]

THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY

hamzah's too busy to help you out.

"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."

you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.

you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.

hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."

"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"

"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."

"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.

he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.

you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.

"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.

you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.

"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.

"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."

"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.

you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.

the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.

you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.

between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.

point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.

suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.

your hips come to a still.

“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.

“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”

hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.

he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.

you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.

he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”

your stomach floods with heat at his words.

“what?” you whisper.

“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”

“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.

“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”

you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.

he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.

he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.

but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.

it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.

you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.

“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”

“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”

“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.

you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.

starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.

but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.

it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.

your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.

your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.

a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.

with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.

“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.

you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.

“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.

“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.

it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.

he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.

he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.

he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.

“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”

all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.

“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.

he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.

his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”

"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."

"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this."

you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.

"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."

dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.

"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."

your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.

"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.

he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."

————————————————————

a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing more so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas

xo giulia

[art-by-jas]

Cold Hands

Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Tags: Established Relationship, Cuddling, Fluff, Short One Shot

WC: 400

Robby sighs, rolling his eyes as you press your hands against his abdomen, feeling him flinch at the sensation of your cold touch.

"Jesus, your hands are like ice," he grumbles, leaning back against the headboard and putting away the book he was reading. You can't help but smile at his reaction, relishing the warmth of his body against your cold fingertips.

"Hey, it's not my fault I have poor circulation," you tease, wiggling your fingers against his skin. He grunts in response, trying to act annoyed but failing to hide the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, well, maybe you should invest in some gloves," he suggests, shifting slightly under your touch. You chuckle, running your hands up his stomach towards his chest, reveling in the soft hair beneath your fingertips.

"But where's the fun in that?" you tease, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "I enjoy the fact that my cold hands bother you."

His gorgeous brown eyes gaze at you as he lets out a huff of laughter, his cheeks flushing slightly at your words. "You're a menace, you know that?" he says, looking down at you affectionately.

"But you love me anyway," you reply, smiling up at him as your fingers trace patterns across his chest and over his gold necklace, which you've come to be low-key obsessed with. He grunts in agreement, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

"Yeah, unfortunately, I do," he murmurs, burying his face in your hair and inhaling softly at the scent of your shampoo.

You giggle, nestling in his embrace and reveling in the warmth of his body. "You say 'unfortunately' like it's a bad thing," you laugh, tracing the outline of his collarbone with your fingers.

He grunts again, but you can feel his smile against your hair. "It’s a bad thing when you're constantly freezing and using me as your personal heater," he mumbles.

You chuckle, enjoying the playful banter. "But you're so warm and cozy. How am I expected to resist?"

He lets out a resigned sigh, pulling you even closer. "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?" He groans, but there is fondness in his voice.

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his neck and then another one. "But I'm your pain in the ass," you smile, feeling his grip on you tighten. He can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

[4linos]

jealousy in bloom

lee minho x gn!reader

synopsis/request: a surprise bouquet sparks unwanted attention and jealousy from a coworker, minho, leading to an awkward apology and a confession that changes everything.

warnings: jealousy, enemies to lovers(?), mild language

wc: 2040

The day had dragged on longer than you cared to admit. Your birthday had started off like any other, quiet, low-key, and tucked in the corner of your mind as just another day to get through. But the moment that bouquet of flowers arrived at your desk, everything changed.

You weren’t sure what was worse, the flowers themselves, which were stunning in their vibrant hues, or the way everyone around you started gushing about them. A “secret admirer,” they all whispered. Who could it be? How romantic! Their eyes were bright with curiosity, and you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable under the weight of their attention. You weren’t used to that kind of focus. You tried to brush it off with a casual smile, but deep down, you were anxious.

You’d never received something so extravagant before, and the lack of a card made it even more mysterious. It wasn’t from anyone you knew. At least, not anyone who’d owned up to it.

As you sat down at your desk, trying to hide your unease, you couldn’t help but glance over at the corner of the room where Minho was sitting. You’d been coworkers for months now, and your relationship with him was… complicated. You didn’t like him. You didn’t hate him either. He was just a presence in your life constantly irritated, distant, sarcastic. He always made sharp, biting remarks, but you’d long since learned to block him out. You didn’t have time for his attitude, and honestly, you’d never thought much about him beyond that.

But today? Today, he was different. You noticed him staring at the bouquet every time he walked past your desk. His eyes weren’t just glancing; they were glowering, like he was trying to will the flowers to disappear. It was strange, unsettling even. There was something in his gaze, something sharp and possessive.

At first, you brushed it off. You couldn’t care less. But as the morning dragged on, Minho’s behavior became harder to ignore. The way he walked by, casting dark glances at you. The way he gritted his teeth when he passed the flowers. And the sharp tone in his voice every time he addressed you. He was rude, as usual, but it was more cutting today. More deliberate.

The final straw came when he started assigning you extra work. You tried to keep your composure, but the extra work Minho had thrown onto your plate wasn’t helping. He’d assigned you tasks that were far beyond your usual workload, without so much as a “thank you” or a “please.” Each task felt like a subtle jab, a way for him to express some kind of underlying frustration with you. And it wasn’t until you saw the glances he kept shooting at the flowers that you started to piece things together he was upset, but you couldn’t understand why.

“Here, take care of this,” he’d muttered with a sneer, never even looking at you.

“Why don’t you do it?” you’d snapped, too tired of his attitude to care anymore.

“I’m busy,” he’d replied coldly, brushing off your question.

It was one thing to be a pain in the ass on a normal day, but today, it felt like he was actively trying to make your life harder. The sharp, demeaning remarks. The passive-aggressive attitude. Every time he passed by you, his eyes would flick to the bouquet and then back to you, like he was holding something back.

It was a strange feeling, being so confused by his actions. And it was starting to eat away at you.

You worked through lunch to avoid him, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were drained. Mentally and emotionally. You had no energy left to process his behavior or the awkward attention from your coworkers.

By the time the day came to an end, you were emotionally drained. The flowers had become a constant reminder of the tension in the office, and Minho’s cold, biting attitude had left you on the verge of tears. You’d barely managed to get through the day, but as soon as the clock hit the end of work, you gathered your things and quickly exited the building, eager to escape the weight of everything that had happened.

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, you reached into your bag to grab your phone, the familiar weight comforting in your hand. When you unlocked the screen, you saw a message from your brother.

“Happy Birthday! Hope your day’s been as amazing as you are. Did you get the flowers I sent to your office? Hope you liked them!”

Your brother. Of course. You should’ve known. Every year, without fail, he sent you something for your birthday. It was his tradition, something he’d been doing since you were both teenagers. You hadn’t even thought about it, but now that you saw his message, everything clicked. He was the one who sent the flowers. It wasn’t some secret admirer. It was just your brother, doing what he always did to make you feel loved.

You smiled, a wave of relief washing over you. The mystery was solved. It was just your brother, always looking out for you in his own way. You were grateful, of course. But now, your thoughts turned back to Minho. Was that why he’d been acting so weird?

Before you could overthink it, another text came through.

“Call me when you get a chance. I want to hear about your day. Hope it’s been great!”

You were about to dial his number when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey.”

You froze. You didn’t even need to turn around to know it was Minho. His voice was unmistakable, sharp, but with an undertone you couldn’t quite place. You sighed inwardly, preparing for another awkward interaction, but when you turned to face him, you were met with an unexpected sight. Minho was standing there, his posture more reserved than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

There was a strange look on his face, something different from the usual arrogance and bitterness. For the first time in ages, he didn’t look like the office jerk. He actually looked… uncertain.

“I just wanted to… apologize,” Minho started, his voice quieter than usual. “I’ve been a complete asshole today, and I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. It wasn’t fair, and I know I made things worse with the whole work overload thing. It’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.”

You blinked at him, taken aback by his sudden sincerity. You’d expected him to brush everything off, to remain stubborn and cold, but instead, here he was, offering an apology.

Before you could say anything, Minho quickly added, “And for what it’s worth, happy birthday. I know it wasn’t a great day for you, but I hope you know I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d never expected Minho to apologize, much less wish you a happy birthday in such a genuine way. Still, you were cautious. “Thanks,” you said, trying to keep your voice neutral. “But why the sudden change of heart? You’ve never been this… nice.”

Minho gave you an almost embarrassed look, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly? I’m not good at this… talking about feelings stuff, okay? But I owe you more than what I gave you today.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Okay…?”

Minho shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but directly at you. “I was an idiot. And I’ve been a jerk all day because… I guess I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” You stared at him, utterly confused. “Of what?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly struggling with the words. “I saw the flowers, and I guess it just got to me. I don’t know why. But the idea of someone else giving you something like that made me… pissed off. And it didn’t make sense to me, so I just started acting out. Like a dumbass.”

You blinked, processing what he said. You could barely believe the words coming out of your mouth. Minho? Jealous?

Minho still refused to meet your gaze directly. “I like you, alright? I’ve liked you for a while now, but I’m too stupid to know how to handle it. So I do what I do best, I make things harder for you. But it’s just because I like you, alright?”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was almost too surreal to take in. Minho, the guy who had spent months being rude and dismissive had feelings for you? It didn’t add up. And yet, here he was, standing in front of you, admitting it in the most awkward, reluctant way possible.

You stared at him, unsure of how to react. Your emotions were a whirlwind, part of you still felt anger and hurt from everything he’d put you through today, but the other part of you couldn’t ignore the sudden vulnerability in his words. Was this the real Minho? Or just another layer of his complex, unpredictable personality?

“I know I’ve messed up,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But if you’re willing to hear me out, I’d like to make it up to you. Maybe... dinner? As an apology? I’ll pay, of course.”

You hesitated. You wanted to say no. You were still upset. He’d made your day miserable with his attitude, and the last thing you wanted was to sit across from him over a meal. But something in his eyes, something genuine made you pause. He was offering an olive branch. And… the offer to pay? That part made you smile despite yourself.

“Fine,” you said, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “But just so you know, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this because I’m starving.”

Minho’s face lit up with a small, relieved smile. “Deal.”

-

Dinner was… awkward.

There was no sugarcoating it. You were both tense, unsure of what to say to break the silence, the air thick with unspoken words. You could feel the weight of the day’s events hanging over the conversation, but as the meal went on, the tension began to ease. Minho, despite his usual bravado, seemed like he was trying harder than usual to make things right. The quiet moments between bites didn’t feel as strained, and by the time dessert rolled around, you were almost starting to enjoy yourself.. almost.

When the check arrived, Minho insisted on paying, just as he promised. He’d apologized again, and while you weren’t quite ready to forgive him completely, you appreciated the effort.

As you left the restaurant and he walked you to your car, the air between you felt less suffocating. Minho spoke again, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard it.

“I wasn’t sure how to say it earlier,” he said, looking down at his feet. “But... I’ve been jealous, alright? And it’s not just because of the flowers. I just… like you a lot, more than I can admit. The only reason I get under your skin the way I do is because I don’t know how else to show it. But I’m done with that.”

You stopped walking for a moment, processing his words. Was he really being serious? Was this a joke? You had no idea.

But the look on his face, the rawness of it told you he wasn’t joking. For the first time, Minho was completely honest, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

“Maybe… next time, try being nicer?” you said softly, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.

Minho’s eyes softened. “I’ll try. I’ll try for you.”

With that, he gave you a small, almost shy smile, before turning to leave.

You watched him walk away, your mind spinning. You weren’t sure what this meant, what was going to happen next. But one thing was clear: the Minho you thought you knew had just shattered all your expectations and maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than you’d ever realized.

//

masterlist.

(a/n: after this reader & minho started dating, got married, had kids & laughed about this story when they retold it to their kids😌.)

[definitelynotanalien]

♪⋆.✮ ‘cause you think you’re such a hard boy, baby

feat: Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Rensuke Kunigami

tw: toxic men, gaslighting(?), breaking up, kunigami is low-key traumatised, reader is an ah

Your boyfriend is cold, colder than usual. You thought it would’ve changed after you officially got together, even announced it to the press, but he’s acting odd. 

He’s started to avoid you in private, he never texts you to tell you if he’s coming late, and he’s stopped trying to hang out with you. Whenever you suggest something to him he immediately turns it down, and he’s not showing you his phone anymore.

Something had changed. He’s become toxic.

Maybe you should’ve taken your mom’s advice and never dated him, or never even talked to him.

He’s rude to you in public, to the point where even your managers notice the disconnect. He acts as if he’s sooo hardcore, does it make him feel big inside? Especially when you try to break up with him and he starts to gaslight and guilt trip you into staying.

Whatever, let’s see how hard he actually is when you leave.

Michael Kaiser is distant, more so than usual. He’s stopped talking to you, even when other people are around. The only time he seems to pay attention to you is whenever you’re surrounded by the press.

But it’s been on and off, sometimes he’s the usual loving boyfriend you adore, sometimes he’s like this. And it’s not getting for the better, in fact everytime you see him lately something seems to set him off.

He’s avoiding you, and you don’t know why.

Yet even though you know that the problem stems from Michael, you can’t help but doubt your own validity in this scenario. 

Maybe you did something wrong, maybe you were too enthusiastic or you weren’t enthusiastic enough. Maybe he was still pissed at you for not attending one of his soccer matches a few months ago, even though he knew you had work and couldn’t take time off. At the same time you had apologised for the incident, and you thought he accepted it.

But, whatever. It doesn’t matter that much. It doesn’t matter that when you finally confront him about avoiding you, he only responds with a simple, snarky, “Are you crazy?”

You blink, wide eyed and heart pounding. “I’m not crazy, you’re avoiding me.”

Michael scoffs, tossing his long blond and blue rats tail across his shoulder and staring at you half heartedly. 

“Why would I be avoiding you?” He laughs it off, his tantalising blue eyes glimmer in the light of your apartment.

His statement sets you off.

“You are avoiding me! You never talk to me anymore! You ignore me so much in public, that even the press is noticing!” You begin to shriek.

The blond man simply stands in front of you, his hands casually in his pockets as if this is any random tuesday. He licks his fake white teeth as you ramble about how you know something is wrong, and he glances down at his nails.

“And, and, you won’t even tell me why when I ask you! You’re constantly going back and forth between liking me and hating me!” You explain. “It’s like I’m not even your girlfriend anymore!”

There is a pregnant pause.

He runs a hand through his hair, interrupting your swirling thoughts, “You’re fucking crazy.” 

A sudden uneasy quiet envelopes the room, and your hands begin to shake.

Of course he’s calling you crazy. Of course he isn’t truly answering your demands. Of course he’s doing this as he always does. 

But. Whatever. It doesn’t really matter. Why should it. Why should you have expected more from him. Whatever.

You sigh, and poke his chest, where his heart should be. There’s a heart shaped tattoo on his chest, but there’s nothing inside. Michael narrows his eyes, staring down at the point your finger connects to his skin.

“Don’t touch me.” He screams, slapping your hand off.

His previous uncaring and nonchalant mask seems to be ripped off, maybe you were really that repulsive to him.

You look up at him, your hand retracted, “We’re done.”

The world goes silent.

Too cool for love isn’t usually your type. But now you find yourself standing in front of Sae Itoshi, on the verge of tears.

“Do you love me too?” You ask.

It’s an absurd statement, Sae is your boyfriend, of course he should love you. The phrase shouldn’t have made him stop his movement completely, his eyes darting to the side almost guiltily.

You think you’ve caught him off guard, the two of you are in his apartment after a perfect match and he’s rather relaxed, why would he expect his girlfriend to say something as odd as you just did.  

He recovers, straightening his back and pulling out his apathetic persona, “Excuse me?” Sae asks.

Your heart pauses. You know he’s heard you, afterall he gave you a surprisingly large reaction for him, and you know that if he truly loved you he would have no reason to ask.

“I said, do you love me too?” Your voice cracks, stomach swirling. 

Perhaps it’s the calm atmosphere, or the way you’re barely holding in tears as you stare down at the ground, that allows him to tell you the truth. Tell you the truth for the first time in a while.

“No.” Sae turns, resuming his prior actions. “I don’t.”

That’s what causes the dam to break, and gallons of tears to flow down your face. 

Your throat is as scratchy as a record as you question, “You’re leading me on?”

He doesn’t make a noise.

“You asshole!” You erupt, walking up to him and demanding his attention. “I thought I mattered to you, I thought we meant something!” 

He sighs, admitting coldly “You didn’t. We didn’t.” 

“What! You- take that back!” You gesture wildly, pleading to some deity to change Sae’s mind. To convince you that this was all just one cruel joke, or some stupid dare. “Make me think that I didn’t waste my life on you.”

He continues to just stand there, so unbothered and uncaring even though you’re spilling tears and your heart is shaking at the spot.

“You wasted your life.” Sae comments.

His pinkish brown hair is down, with bangs that barely reach his forehead, let alone his eyes. You’re starting to vibrate, as stupid as that sounds, you thought you meant something to him. You thought he cared for you, that he loved you as whole heartedly as you loved him.

“Why are you acting like we were nothing!?”

He bites his lip.

“This is why my friends hate you. This is why your own brother hates you! You’re an emotionless freak!” You lash out, you move your hand to slap him and he grabs your arm midair. He couldn’t even let you have that one.

He stares at you, gaze unwavering.

“I’m done. Let’s break up.” 

He smiles, “Good.”

Rensuke Kunigami is the kindest, most loving guy in the entire world. He’s the type of guy who plants flowers, just to grow them into a beautiful bouquet for you. He’s the type of guy who learns complicated braids and hairstyles to use on you and your future kids. He’s the type of guy who loves wholeheartedly, and worships his beloved.

Rensuke is, simply put, a bleeding heart. And he is the penultimate love of your life, the one man that you always find yourself lingering on and loving. 

He’s the dead parent in films, who are filmed with the blurry nostalgic footage and who the remaining family look towards as a fond yet fading memory. He’s your guiding star, your best friend and most precious treasure in the entire universe.

And you thought he would always treasure you too, after all you’ve been through thick and thin together. You dated before he got accepted into Blue Lock, and stayed together throughout the program, you kept by him even when he returned from the wild card program and became different.

Something is off about Rensuke. Whenever you touch he flinches, even if it’s a simple brush of your fingers. He never smiles in photos, let alone in real life. It’s odd. This big, hunky man used to brighten up years with a mere flash of his grin, and now he can’t even think of it.

And whenever you try talking with him, he always brushes you off. He comes in with one excuse or another, and you find yourself growing more and more frustrated at this.

You thought he would get better after you became fully official, but he’s only gotten worse.

You take a deep breath in, before announcing “We’re breaking up.”

“I love you.” For a second you swear you can see your Rensuke come back, with the innocent flutter of his eyes as he blinks slowly at you. 

The words hit you like a bullet train. How could a monster like him love? Maybe you misheard him, maybe he was lying. Or maybe you were growing insane.

“What?”

He pauses, repeating himself. “I love you.” He says it with such sincerity, as if you are his last and only lifeline, and for a moment you falter.

“You can’t spring that onto me.” You take a step back, trying to escape the thralls of your past love with him. He wasn’t allowed to do this to you, to make you feel like this once more.

He states straight at you, taking a step towards you, “I’m not sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t do this to me.” You plead, you couldn’t take this. You didn’t care if he somehow got better or not, you just cared that he treated you bad before.

He responds with mere silence.

“We’re- We’re still over. It’s not me, it’s you.” You argue, gesturing as you speak with a certain lost ferocity, as if your old feelings -old self- have reunited with the current you.

Rensuke pauses, before turning away and scoffing. He crosses his muscular arms.

You continue, “You’re different now. You’re not the Rensuke I used to know.” 

“That’s true.” He responds curtly.

“Yeah. So we’re done. Over. Broken up. Get out of my house.” You overexpose yourself.

He blinks, “It’s my apartment.” 

Look at him, suddenly so hardcore. Although you may have forgotten about the apartment, in your defence it was somewhat reasonable. It wasn’t like the pair of you hadn’t lived there together since forever.

“You’re right. I’ll go.” You turn, reluctant to leave past memories behind. Memories from before he turned like this, and after he changed into this.

“Have a nice life…” He says.

You sigh, “I will. I hope you do too.”

“I still love you.”

“I don’t.”

[medusaesque]

Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Kim has a unique relationship to the pale, I tried dissecting it and making sense of it. Reposting with more thoughts after some good conversations with @binomech.

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim himself is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise and stands in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

Of course Kim is no actual saint, no guardian angel, but it's really telling that even in harry's deification the symbols of Kim's holiness are worldly, almost mundane, the matters of every day life- a celling's fan lightbulb, the engine of a car..

Or the way @binomech said it when discussing Kim's portrait: this is the only thing keeping you from the full brunt of the world in your mind #but truly you are already in the world #and he is just a man #and that's just a car and that's just a ceiling fan

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world, but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, afraid of it even. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind, trying to protect him-

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

I think the key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to reach the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying to him.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

That leads me to the expeditions through the pale-

Volta do Mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets, and it's a Physique skill.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be revolutionary pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim....

Seeing how Volta do Mar is strengthened by his jackets, and the items' descriptions point out that most of the people who used to wear this jacket are long gone (alongside what they represented) and considering that the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it, is seems fitting that returning from the 'sea' requires the kind of armor that ghosts wear- the ghost of who you wanted to be but never could, of a home that was never yours. Glory to them.

@binomech said it best in this conversation we had about Kim's skills: "your traitorous race. your traitorous job. your traitorous parents. your traitorous senses. distant enemy of yourself: seolite, communist, cripple, faggot. and you wear it as armor"

Kim is equipped for Volta do Mar, he armors himself for it every day, for the thing that makes it possible to return sane, and discover a new world-

This is one of the most touching Kim moments in the game to me- putting his hand in the rain, looking up to the sky, mouth open, welcoming the spring rain, even knowing it'll bring death and destruction with it. He is devoted to this world and the role he has to play in it, or at least the role he thinks he has to play-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right there, getting Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again- keeping the two of them together. Their real work is down here, him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they might be able to keep her on this earth.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[divasroses]

my personalll astrology observations ; )

hi y'all thank you for liking my first post perioddd 🤪. but these are my most prominent astrology observations based off my personal experiences w these placements, not fact <3.

. . .

- libra & virgos can both be huge perfectionists about how they express themselves creatively and just in general 🫠. I feel like they are both their own worst critic, always challenging themselves to do better. let’s remember to be kind to ourselves okay guys 😭🤞🏾.

- speaking of virgos, a lot of times they can be way more intuitive than some pisces placements! and vice versa, i’ve seen some pisces placements be kind of cold and super logical like you would expect from a virgo.

- i truly truly admire the heart of leo placements and they are my fav fire sign 👩🏾‍🍳🤌🏾💋. specifically sun. you'll ask them something like 'can I stay the night?' and they'll look at you like you're stupid LMAO. it’s like for them, most questions/favors from their loved ones are an automatically yes so they truly don’t understand asking first . one that I’m close with will say “are you asking me or are you telling me?” 😭 like girl obviously asking. they’re just very generous.

-pisces men & their hidden children, or estranged relationships w their children. whattt is up w that? 😕and them being prone to violence :(. it sucks because as a scorpio i usually root for them and want the best but damn. chill out 😭.

- really admire the drive and passion of aries men but we can only be friends/business partners( maybeee). my thing with them is they put themselves first obviously and you respect it but then you realize they’re willing to do almost anything to achieve that!!!😭… like manipulating the people around them because they know how much they love them 😩. yikes babe.

- shout out all libra placements, from a libra moon! i feel like people are always trying to say we're two faced/fake but it's just our scalessss !! 😩💗constantly weighing, trying to decide what's best for us and our loved ones. gemini truly has the two-faced tendencies and sometimes they choose whatever opinion seems more popular or shocking 😭🤦🏾‍♀️ . just fickle as hell sometimes, you gemini placements lol. i love y'all tho.

- i've seen a lot of leo x sag relationships in my lifetime and it's cute every time 🔥. seems like leo really holds sag down, and obviously they match each other's spark. however, I have seen sag become dissatisfied with this over time and cheat/escape. not permanately but yeah.

*** some of my other fav couples: cancer x gemini, libra x aquarius, cap x leo, virgo x capricorn, scorpio x pisces ( ☺️), pisces x taurus. ****

- for me close friends = earth placements. specifically cap. (cap does rule my 7th house, so no surprise there). but outside of that, i do value stability so obviously earth is good. idk people say they're boring and evil, i don't usually see that side of them? i know they can say some dumb things though. it's like they'll piss you off once in a while but they're not going anywhere. + they're funny.

- why do aquarius low key act like pisces when they're in love?? they really put their blinders on when it comes to their partner and kind of ignore that logic i expect from them. the person in mind has an aquarius sun & venus. a different aquarius was telling me like yeah they do that, they don't care if their partner cheats or whatever, they will stay. im like wow and I thought I was bad lmao.

- the evil scorpio experiences has to be coming from the men !! 😩 if a scorpio women does you wrong she’s hurt. if a scorpio man does you wrong he’s bored !!

let me know what y’all think/ if you want me to touch on something specific!! happy sunday 🌅.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

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

WORD COUNT — 13.5k

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

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

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

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

[ RETURN TO PART ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ TWO ]

viii. I LOVE YOU LIKE A DRUG

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“why?”

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

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

“and what kind of relationship is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“interesting choice of words.”

“god, you’re such a perv.”

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

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

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

you want him.

you. want. him. and no one else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it was just the heat of the moment.”

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

arrogance, perhaps.

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

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

then he nods in understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“gyu, we were supposed to—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and he just lets you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yeah, you fucking like him. jesus.

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

“would you?”

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

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

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

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

“can’t help that i like what i see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but he’s not talking about your day.

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

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

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

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

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

ix. WHO ARE YOU, REALLY?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but it’s a good feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

unfortunately, neither of the codes work.

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

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

it worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tape three.

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

tape four.

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

tape five.

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

tape six.

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

tape seven.

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

tape eight.

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

tape nine.

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

tape ten.

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

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

everything falls into place.

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

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

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

terrifyingly alone, more than ever before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“know what?”

“that you killed my fucking father.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“can’t we talk about—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i was going to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“please don’t say that.”

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

“i swear to you—”

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

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

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

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

god, he seems so genuine in it, too.

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

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

he does.

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

x. WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did my appearance surprise you?”

as you recognize his voice, your blood runs cold.

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

“you have some nerve showing up here.”

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

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

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

“is that what you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m not demanding, i’m asking.”

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

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

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

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

“are you? what are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“everything okay?”

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

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

fuck. how much of the conversation did he hear?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i wanted to talk about the investigation.”

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

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

“which is?”

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

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

“you were just speaking to him, actually.”

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

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

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

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

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

“me?”

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

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

you subtly glance down at your phone for a moment.

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

yet not a single word comes out of your mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hang up right after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

of course it’s him.

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

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

as if it’s natural.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“we’re gonna cover it up.”

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

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

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

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

well, you have a point there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

xi. I HATE YOU LIKE MY OWN REFLECTION

“so, what do we do now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll lose everything!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and?”

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

“no.”

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

“no.”

his brows knit together. “so…”

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

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

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

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

well, he fucked up. miserably.

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

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

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

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

“what?”

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

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

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

“no i don’t.”

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

“gyu—”

“i like it when you call me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

but something in you is still fighting back.

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

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

“something we shouldn’t.”

“why not?”

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

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

his words are true — but it still hurts.

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

“yeah. and so are you.”

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

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

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

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

god. he’s really that into you?

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

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

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

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

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

“what if i like him better than you?”

“you wouldn’t.”

“why? ‘cause you’re so likeable?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fuck—gyu—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fine — i like you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“he did.”

“did you?”

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

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

“i could still do it, y’know.”

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

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

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

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

extremely strange.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“coming to visit me at this hour?”

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

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

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

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

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

oh, shit.

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

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

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

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

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

mingyu seems confused. “attempted?”

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

“me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

one last sacrifice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lavenderhateswritting]

LOWKEY I need Bruce’s reaction when he finds the divorce papers

I'm low-key obssesed with divorcing Bruce. This got so much longer than I thought it would I hope you like it.

If he were to ask himself what he remembers about that night he would say it was the look in your eyes. You were never good at hiding how you felt he could tell what kind of day you had just by staring into your eyes and watchng the way the light bounced off them.

You were sad, of course you were sad he had done it again broken the trust you gave him, over and over again even as past experiences showed, he could not be trusted with it. There was more to it though. You weren't just sad you were determined. He used to love that look on you. The way your eyes would narrow when you had finally found the best path forward.

He knew you had made up your mind as soon as you looked him in the eyes and he saw in you the very reason he had fallen in love all those years ago.

Coming home to the empty bedroom wasn't surprising he knew in a way that he had lost this battle. You were going to leave that night, likely to your parent or friends house maybe if he was lucky to one of the properties you both owned. He could concede this to you learning about a child he had out of wedlock with a woman he had already cheated on you with once before, you were going to need to be alone.

He just needed to think of a plan to get you back like he had before. What had he done before to get you back? To pull your relationship from that ledge he couldn't stop walking it towards. Vacations that never lasted long because there was always a new problem popping up and a world to save. Dates that he planned, going to your favorite restouraunt where he was getting flirted with constantly reminding you why you were out in the first place. Flowers, but you never really liked flowers it just seemed like something he was supposed to do when he failed in the relationship. Likely none of those would work.

In a way the divorce papers had come as less of a surprise than he would have liked to admit. You had been out of the house for a month and not answering his phone calls. He kept tabs though, he had to, to make sure you were safe and that he'd be there when you were ready to move past this together. So he noticed when you started talking to lawyers. So if you asked him, no he wasn't surprised that you had asked for a divorce. It still hurt though. In a way he had never thought a simple piece of paper could hurt in his life.

Twenty years of marriage couldn't be over this quick. With so little fight or care he just needed to talk to you and explain himself. You were always good at understanding him probably the only person who consistently could.

"What are you doing here Bruce." You weren't facing him. You were chopping carrots on the cutting board at the counter, but you had of course heard him come in. You had gained some kind of second sense for people like him and the kids after a while sneaking past you was nearly impossible.

He remembers one of the days when Jason was young and had gotten it in his head that he was going to manage to sneak past you and into the cave even though he was benched for the night because of a cold. He had by the end of the night gotten so frustrated that he had accused you of secretly being a double agent sent to spy on the family.

For a moment he can feel himself wanting to smile at the memory he stops himself he's Batman right now. Maybe coming in the suit was a bad idea, but in a way this was his best defense against you against whatever way you decided to hurt him.

You're waiting for a response, but what should he even say. ' I missed waking up to your smile everyday and holding you close at night.' Or ' I don't know what's wrong with me because you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen and for some reason that's not enough for me'. Or maybe ' I don't know what a life without you in it would look like and I would never want to live in the world where I have to figure that out.' He doesn't say any of that though can't bring himself to.

"You left." He finally says and he can tell by the tension in your shoulders it was the wrong choice.

"I told you I was going to." Your back is still turned towards him. He'd like to think that if he could see your face maybe he could find a road map towards fixing this.

He watches as you scrape the carrots into whatever soup you have cooking on the stove that has left the entire house smelling like those moments of peace you two would share after a rough week.

"I never got the chance to explain myself. You left and now you want to leave everything we built and you haven't even given me a chance to explain myself." He's hoping that if he can just get you to understand in the way you always have that there might be some chance of fixing this.

"What is there to explain Bruce. You've done this so many times that I think I've heard every excuse or explanation you could possibly have. Can we just end this like adults." You stir the pot and then finally you turn around to look at him. You have dark rings underneath your eyes and he's not sure what of that was always there and what wasn't. You were always exhausted running from one problem to the next trying to keep things afloat as best you could. Tryng to keep this relationship afloat as best you could.

"I know that my relationship with Talia has hurt you multiple times and I need to apologize because this isn't fair to you it never has been." He inhales rememders everything he's ever tried to tell you and just assumed you knew and tries his hardest to voice it.

"I can't tell you why I keep cheating on you because I am truly a lucky man. You are the center of my world Y/N and most of the time you're the only thing keeping it running." He looks into your eyes and he can see the tears rushing forward threatening to flow.

"The world before I knew you was a dark one, I wanted to help people, but in a way I never cared what happened to me. You gave me a reason to want to come home at the end of the day. You made me whole in ways I never thought I could be. I don't want to end this I can't imagine a world where we aren't togehter." You're crying now. He cant seem to stop making you cry.

"Bruce I have loved you for so long that, the idea of not having you in my life was something I could never even consider. And maybe that was the problem. I've stuck beside you for so long and tried my hardest to make sure that you and your life were the best it could be I think I've forgotten that I'm a person outside of you." You reach up to wipe the tears out of your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself like a hug. "You aren't good for me Bruce hell you're not even really good to me and I have to find some way t-to move past relying on you for everything because you don't know how to stop hurting me and I'm just going to keep letting you."

"Don't say that. You know I don't want to hurt you. I don't ever want to see you hurt."

"You say all of this, but you keep hurting me anyways. Maybe you do love me, maybe you actually do believe what you're saying." You're staring him down now. "But that's not enough and I've given you chance after chance to be better and every single time you just hurt me again. Something had to give and I- I need to break this off or this relationship will kill me."

"I'll be better." He's stood up and begun to walk towards you now. "I won't even look in the direction of a woman if you ask me I will do better." You reach your hand up and cup his face. He can see it in your eyes that there's nothing he can do to change your mind, but he'd be a fool not to try.

"Oh Bruce, I wish I could believe you." You take your hand down and lean your head onto his chest. Your eyes are staring back at you in the chine of the bat symbol. You both stand there for a few minutes and breathe in the last of eachother you'll ever get.

"You need to leave Bruce." You finally push yourself away from him and he can tell you mean it.

So he leaves.

[airybcby]

So it’s Canon that isagi is a really awkward guy and barely had any friends in skl, so imagine Reader takes interest in isagi bc she finds him really cute and starts to slowly then constantly invading his business, and starts going to his school games.

But they were only really connected to each other by skl, never really hung out outside of school so they become incredibly distant when isagi goes to Blue Lock womp womp 😔 so when U20 games finishes, isagi low-key forgets Reader existed, just that she was the girl who made school a bit more bearable, but he meant everything to Reader

I’m into bittersweet Isagi these days, no happy Isagi 😔

now this...this is something i can work with ;)

used feminine she/her pronouns since you used them in your ask! so fem! reader!!

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i know that i should hate you

( isagi yoichi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — i love this ask :) added my own lil twang to the end

♡ word count — 1.4k

♡ content — isagi yoichi x fem! reader, set before he leaves for blue lock, goes into the U-20, let's pretend they have a winners parade :) , school friends but not friends friends, awkward! isagi, unrequited love, i think that's it, not proofread!

♡ synopsis — You told yourself you would forget Isagi Yoichi, just like he forgot you. You were a good liar when you wanted to be.

── .✦ i should hate you, i feel stupid

The bleachers creaked when you sat down. Same as they always had. Same cold metal pressing into your legs, same battered field stretched out in front of you.

It had been a long time since you'd been here. Long enough that the rust was winning over the paint, long enough that the lines on the field had started to fade.

Long enough that it almost didn't feel real — those afternoons you spent here, pretending you just liked the fresh air, pretending you weren't looking for him.

But you had been. Always, it was him.

Even when no one else noticed, even when he was just another boy chasing a ball across a dying field, you saw him.

You cared first. You cared too much.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on them, and closed your eyes.

If you tried hard enough, you could almost hear it — the dull thud of cleats against dirt, the quiet grunt of effort when he ran too fast, the sound of your own hands clapping louder than anyone else's.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much now.

Maybe that's why you couldn't seem to let it go.

You first noticed him in third period history.

He wasn’t anyone special, not really — slouched in his seat near the window, scribbling in the margins of his notebook, half-listening.

But there was something about him that made you look twice.

Maybe it was the way he bit the end of his pen when he was thinking.

Maybe it was the way he laughed — rare, startled, boyish — when someone said something funny.

Maybe it was just the way he seemed so lonely, even in a room full of people.

Isagi Yoichi.

A boy with too-big dreams scribbled between math notes.

A boy who ate lunch with his teammates sometimes, but never quite belonged even there.

He was awkward.

Sweet, in a way.

Cute, in that quiet, stubborn kind of way that made you want to sit beside him just to see if you could make him smile.

So you did.

You started sitting next to him when you could — ignoring the open seats elsewhere, ignoring the way he stiffened like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say.

You borrowed pens, asked about homework you didn’t actually need help with, lingered at the door after class to ask if he was coming to practice.

At first, he barely managed full sentences around you.

A nod here.

A stuttered "yeah" there.

A shy glance that skittered away too fast.

You were patient.

You learned to fill the silences.

You learned that he was better at listening than talking — that if you kept your voice soft and steady, he’d relax eventually.

And he did.

Sometimes you’d catch him already looking at you when you turned around.

Sometimes he'd wait, clumsy and obvious, just outside your classroom so you could walk to the next one together.

It wasn’t a friendship, not really.

But it was something.

Something fragile and hopeful and new.

Something that only existed when you both allowed it to.

You learned he played forward on the soccer team.

You learned he hated cold weather, but loved playing in the rain.

You learned he liked instant curry, and video games, and that his biggest dream — the one he barely said out loud — was to become a striker the whole world knew by name.

You decided you liked him before you even realized you were falling.

You started going to his games because you said you were bored.

Because your friends had other plans.

Because it was easy to slip into the stands, hoodie pulled over your head, pretending you were just there.

But really, you were there for him.

Only him.

You didn’t know the rules, not really, but you learned to recognize him by the way he moved — sharp and quick and a little reckless, always chasing something only he could see.

Sometimes he would glance toward the stands, searching.

And sometimes, when he caught your eye, he would smile — small and shy, like it was a secret between you.

You clapped until your hands were sore.

You screamed his name until your voice went hoarse.

You watched him shine, even when nobody else noticed.

You wanted to be someone he remembered.

Someone he needed.

Someone he thought about when the world felt too heavy.

You let yourself believe you were.

When the rumors about Blue Lock started, you didn’t believe them at first.

A special program?

For the best of the best?

It sounded like something out of a manga.

But then he stopped coming to class.

His name was called for attendance, and no one answered.

You waited.

One day, two, three.

You kept thinking — hoping — he would show up late, laughing, apologizing, telling some crazy story.

He didn’t.

The realization hit slow, then all at once.

He was gone.

And he hadn’t even said goodbye.

The months dragged.

You still sat in your usual seat.

Still caught yourself looking at the empty desk beside you.

Still found yourself walking past the soccer field after school, even though there was nobody left worth watching.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

You barely knew him, after all.

You told yourself you were being ridiculous.

Clinging to something that was never really yours.

You told yourself you would forget him, just like he forgot you.

You were a good liar when you wanted to be.

When the U-20 match aired, you weren’t ready.

You thought maybe you could handle it.

You thought maybe you could just watch — like everyone else — and cheer for the boy from your hometown who made it big.

But the second you saw him on screen —

The second you saw the way he ran, the way he fought, the way he smiled when he scored …

The ache in your chest returned, raw and sharp and ugly.

He wasn’t the awkward boy from third period anymore.

He was electric.

Magnetic.

Bigger than the world you knew.

You whispered his name into the empty room.

You cried when you remembered he wouldn’t hear it.

The parade was louder than you expected.

Crowds pressing in from every side, banners waving, people screaming his name.

You stayed on the edge, heart hammering against your ribs.

And then you saw him.

Isagi Yoichi.

Smiling, waving, accepting praise like he didn’t know what to do with it all.

Still a little awkward — still scratching the back of his neck when he got overwhelmed — but brighter somehow, more sure of himself.

He looked nothing like the boy everyone watched win his first big game.

But he also looked nothing like the boy you sat next to in history.

You held your breath when his eyes skimmed the crowd.

And then — for just a second — they locked on you.

Something flickered there.

Recognition, maybe.

Or maybe you just wanted it too badly.

He pushed through the crowd, coming toward you — awkward, determined, so him it made your throat close.

"Hey," he said, grinning.

You smiled, too, too shaky, too hopeful.

"Hey."

"You’re...uh...you were in my history class, right?"

The words sliced deep.

You nodded.

"Yeah. Third period."

He laughed, scratching his neck again.

"I thought you looked familiar. You used to come to the games, right?"

Another nod, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest.

"Yeah. I did."

"Thanks for that," he said, sincerity shining through. "It really meant a lot back then."

Back then.

Before everything.

Before you became a stranger again.

As if it wasn’t only a few months ago.

Someone shouted his name, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"I should get going," he said, apologetic.

"But...it was good seeing you."

"Yeah," you whispered. "You too."

And just like that, he was gone — swallowed by the crowd, by the noise, by the life he built without you.

You stayed there long after everyone else left.

The streets emptied, the banners sagged, the excitement faded.

And you stood alone, heart cracked wide open, wishing you could hate him.

You should.

You should hate him for forgetting you.

For outgrowing you even though, really, you were too small of a pot for him to be put in anyways.

For making you believe you ever mattered.

But you don’t.

You hate yourself more — for still loving a boy who barely remembers your name.

You wipe your eyes, set your shoulders, and turn away.

You were just a girl who made school a little more bearable.

He was the boy who made it out.

He was someone unforgettable.

You were someone he already forgot.

airy stop indenting after the smallest sentence challenge GO!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

❀ tags: ❀ @kenyuukissme ❀ @irethepotato ❀ @kiyy0mei ❀ @x3nafix ❀ @sugacor3 ❀ @ohagiyo ❀ @reigensuperstar ❀ @nevvynevnev ❀ join the taglist here !

⋆.˚✮ 2025 ©airybcby ✮˚.⋆

[therobotsarestuckinmyhead]

Hi! Could you write a headcanon for Transformers: Prime set during Season 2, where the Autobots discover another Transformer who’s been hiding in Brazil and can transform into a red Chevrolet Celta? And could the reader be a chill and funny guy, but a bit on the scaredy-cat side? Sorry if that’s too specific 😅

☆|♡ "NEW FRIEND & OLD MEMORIES"

OHHHHHH ANON… didnt mention whether platonic or romantic </3 so i went with a fine middle line. for plot reasons, there was an omega key in Brazil. i had to research on Brazil. forgive me for inaccuracies. also uhhh heads up for the Arcee part.

scenario: on a mission to recover one of the omega keys, the Autobots encounter another bot

including: Smokescreen, Optimus, Arcee, Bulkhead

note: reader is depicted to have an accent cause i <3 transformers with accents

BACKGROUND:

This dirt ball was where Optimus said he'd be at— You had the coordinates and everything! Yet your escape pod crashed right into Brazil, the coordinates for Jasper, Nevada must've been a few kliks off because you found yourself in the forest outskirts of Manaus, Amazonas all the way in Brazil. Not even the right country but you didn't realize that until much later.

You'd managed to set up a make-shift base within the forest; far, far away from any human settlements. The last thing you want is to catch anyone's attention before you find the rest of the Autobots, especially the natives.

No ship, no crew, no contact... nothing.

But hey! That's just a minor set-back. You're sure you can manage.

Of course you knew how to defend yourself. Not the best on the offensive but a good enough defensive, managing to stay undercover. You managed to build a low-quality but functioning radio transmitter, you're a bit of a techie— nothing big, just a few simple things you'd picked up after being stuck in this seemingly never ending war. You hoped your messages would reach where ever Prime and the rest of the Autobots are. Until then you're stuck all alone with many misadventures. Like living off of energon you manage to steal from Decepticon energon mines deeper into the forest.

Until you met a fellow Autobot.

Smokescreen:

— Smokescreen is the one who found you in the forest, the exact same forest where the third Omega Key just so happened to be located. He encountered you through a misunderstanding actually; you almost mistook him for a possible Decepticon when you managed to pick up a spark-signal. But once you saw him, you realized you were wrong and he debrief you on everything you missed out on (everything he was aware of at least). However, the two of you were knocked out cold by Starscream and that twat managed snatch the Omega Key right out of Smokescreen's servos!

— Smokescreen is relatively easy to get along with. He enjoys your company, even if you clearly are a bit of a scaredy-cat. In fact he actually likes that about you, it gives him a lot more ammo he could use to tease you with.

— He laughs the loudest at your jokes, you managed to cheer him up after losing the third Omega Key so Smokescreen does get a bit attached to you. He may or may not get attached a bit too easily... and quickly.

— Also he's definitely not really vibing with you alt mode of choice, I mean, a Chevrolet Celta? Why not a luxury sports car or a race car! Like his own Indy 500 race car alt mode? You're quick to retort with how much more noticeable a sports car or a race car is and how it beats the purpose of 'Robots in Disguise' but he pretends not to hear it... He doesn't want to admit that you may have a really good point there. Only because he is a race car.

— Smokescreen does like the red paint though and how you've managed to keep it relatively scratch-less given you're in a forest. But he does wish you'd add some more colour to it, you're a pretty vibrant bot so he thinks a few more streaks and colouring would really suit you.

— You can bet your spark that he's going to use the fact that he's a sport-car to his advantage because he is constantly challenging you to a race and you're clearly not able to keep up with him. He has a proud smug smile on his face. Finally! After cycles of losing to Bumblebee, he's farming race wins for once like Max Verstrappen does.

— Your accent throws him off a little but he's gets used to it quickly. Again, you crashed in Brazil, its only natural that you learnt Portuguese before you did English. He could easily learn Portuguese too, mostly cause of the existence of the internet. Well, not really learn per say but translate his way through conversation.

— Cue you and Smokes conversing in Portuguese while the rest of the team is incredibly confused as to what the two of you are saying. You have a secret language with him. The two of you are teasing the kids, especially Miko. It's driving her nuts how the two of you are talking and she can't make out a WORD. She wants to get into it as well, she's begging you to let her get into this 'secret language'. Then Raf tells her its Portuguese and not some secret alien language and her excitement dies down.

Optimus:

— Optimus is happy to have you onboard even if he is disheartened at not being able to get one of the keys because in the end of the day, its more Autobot to their mission and they need all the help they can get to gather all the four Omega Keys.

— Optimus is more reliable than Smokescreen when it comes to letting you know what's happening so he fills in any gaps Smokescreen may have left out. He also takes the liberty to introduce you to everyone.

— Optimus finds you interesting, mostly because you managed to survive on a completely different continent and managed to stay hidden so well that Ratchet’s detection systems couldn't pick up on your spark signature.

— Optimus is observant, a lot more than one would think and from all he's managed to understand from your story, you're a survivalist with the talent when it comes to staying hidden. He can see how resillant you are, managing to find fuel even in such a precarious situation. The attempts to hand-repair your frame by yourself is clear with poorly welding marks as well as remnants of blasterfire burns.

— Your tech-knowledge would definitely help them, its a massive advantage for their side. Ratchet is a medic, he's not exactly an engineer. Even the little engineering knowledge you have is useful to them, you could assist Ratchet and perhaps maybe even improve the ground bridge.

— Sometimes, you say Brazillian phrases/sayings and it confuses Optimus. He just nods his helm like he does with Agent Fowler's other Earth sayings in English. Yours just confuses him a bit more because its in a language he hasn't conversed in yet. He might get curious and try to learn some Portuguese himself.

— And since you seemed to have managed to pick up on Earth languages very well, along with their customes, Optimus thinks that theres a very high chance that you might be some sort of 'human expert' because he still finds himself struggling with a few sayings and such. Human lingo is just not for him.. Optimus thinks you'd be great to interact with humans.

— Your strong basic knowledge in tech is a huge service because now you're helping Ratchet improve his weapons systems. He's grateful to have you.

— Optimus does want to get to know you better but he isn't exactly sure on how to approach you, the Prime can be slightly awkward at times (evident with how he tried to talk to Wheeljack that one EP) so he's still figuring it out.

— You're getting most of the maintenance work now. Fixing the lights at the base, ground-bridge maintenance, tweaking systems, maximizing performance... You've slowly become an integral part of the team. Your tweaks to the systems have made it a lot easier to decrypt the coordinates of the fourth Omega Key.

Arcee:

— Oh Arcee, she's really going through with it the moment she saw you. You just remind her of Cliffjumper, its like you're a walking-talking replica of the bot. So similar yet so, so different. From the red paint to the sense of humour and light-heartedness, you're triggering a lot of memories for her.

— So, she does what she normally does when she has something which triggers the flashbacks. Avoid it. Arcee is avoiding you like you're the Rust Plague. She is cold to you, not exactly rude but incredibly silent when you're around and you can sense it: the way her frame seems to stiffen slightly, her EM field tucked to herself tightly as if she doesn't want you to know what she's feeling— her guard is constantly up when you're around.

— You notice this. At first you wonder if you're doing something wrong. Perhaps she's just skeptical about the credibility of your story? An understandable concern which could be talked out... or so you thought because when you try to confront her about it, she usually says something flat and cold, just leaving you there after giving some excuse to ditch the conversation. It annoys you because every time you try to talk to her, she shoots you down like you're a Vehicon.

— You come to the conclusion that there may not be anything wrong with you but instead, there could be something wrong with her. You're not sure. Does she just not like you for no reason? Your relationship with Arcee is strained.

— But it slowly does get better as time moves on and when she does, she feels bad about how she was like towards you.

Bulkhead:

— You know him! You two have met before back on Cybertron during the war so he's someone you're a lot more comfortable with and its relatively easy to get along with him too. He's a chill guy and you're a chill guy. It was bound to be like that.

— But you and Smokescreen have doomed him into having to learn Japanese because Miko is adamantly trying to make sure she and Bulkhead have a secret language no one else can understand! When Bulkhead asked why she couldn't just do that with Jack and Raf, she said that it'd be much easier teaching him than them. So now his databanks have files on all three different Japanese writing systems and over three thounsand Kanji. Now he's gotten better than Miko at Japanese.

— Cue Miko dragging him in when you are Smokescreen are talking in Portuguese so that Bulkhead can show off his Japanese. He's got a big frown on his face; he's very embarrassed, evident from his EM field and you're trying not to laugh as Smokescreen is trying his hardest to hold it back.

— Considering he used to work in construction, he's usually the one doing most of the maintenance work but then you came along so now he's helping you out with most them. He's like your assistant, he can't stay committed to keeping the base alright when he's usually out on the field.

— But other than that, he likes having you around. You're funny, you've managed to get multiple snickers out of him.

— If you get even closer to him, he'll have some crazy Wrecker stories to tell you. The more tame ones that aren't extremely traumatic for him to say, Miko is secretly listening in the background.

— He likes talking to you and will start striking up more casual chats with you, you make the heavy atmosphere of the room a lot lighter and bearable. Something he really needs with how hectic its been trying to locate these Omega Keys.

— Bulkhead knows Arcee wouldn't like it but when you keep asking him about why Arcee doesn't like you, he's going to be the one to tell you what's wrong.

— Bulkhead is the main reason why your relationship with Arcee improves because he's trying to talk to her, trying to reach out to her though its mainly Optimus who's confronting her after noticing something off. He knew immediately why Arcee was avoiding you because he felt the same way, you were just like Cliff.

— Also one time, Miko dressed herself up in a very convincing Scraplet costume. You and Bulkhead were talking and the lights flickered off, you were not very happy about that cause the two of you just finished maintenance work. Then the lights flicker on and the two of you see this scraplet and immediately scream together, holding onto each other for a moment. You were about to shoot with your cannon until Miko removed the costumes head and began hysterically laughing while the two of you are holding onto each other for life.

— Neither of you were pleased and took her straight to Optimus so she could have a "chat" with the boss bot. Miko is your and Bulkhead's adopted child at this point.

the description you gave me reminded me too much of Cliffjumper and idk if it were intention but it gave me ideas :3

[escapisttt]

make up sex

porter runs. he always runs, but he never comes back. what will happen now that he finally has?

cw: nsfw! smut with plot read the title lol, mentions of a previous argument, some hostile dialogue

authors note: was interesting writing gender neutral smut for the first time but it’s literally not hard so anyone who tells you it is is either selfish, lazy, or uncreative.

word count: 3.6k (also the exact length of my only other redacted fic okay)

steam billowed all around the bathroom, penetrating every surface with moisture and sticking to the large rectangular mirror. treasure began undressing themself with lumbering movements, constantly tipping over left and right. after trying to take their slippers off while standing up, they again became unsteady and caught themself on the sink basin. they chuffed. when was the last time they drank like this? every time they went to a bar, they had their friends to look after. nothing’s quite as lame as being the designated driver, they thought. to them, that was another indication of their plainness; they weren’t fun enough to party with. instead, they were left to scroll on their phone while sitting on a barstool, catching themself gazing wistfully up at the chalkboard drink menu. but tonight they had indulged. not at a bar, but alone on their armchair, sipping wine and watching their ceiling go in and out of focus. they knew they’d had enough when they watched the ceiling slowly bend, rise, and fall as if there were a pair of lungs under the plaster.

once they were fully bare, they carefully stepped under the scalding water. they flinched and then froze, willing themself to not back away. they weren’t the one to run. they wouldn’t run.

they closed their eyes and let the burning water hit their front. they could already feel their chest turning a darker, uglier color. but they wouldn’t step back. they wouldn’t turn the temperature down. it felt good, the heat. images of him flashed through their mind, causing their brow to furrow in helpless frustration. his hands, his fingertips, his breath, it was all so hot. they had never felt so much heat before him. now though, they had been left cold for days. just like the outings with their ‘friends.’ after he slammed the door and ran, they were back on a lonely barstool. cold. freezing. they’d never felt so much ice before him, either.

a figure hovered in front of the bathroom door. the smell of hair conditioner wafted to the creature’s senses, his red irises eclipsed by black need. the smell called to him, screamed his name. but he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. the instinct, the guilt, the aroma—what was the matter with him? he’d fed on some poor soul minutes ago and still couldn’t focus? he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and squeezed. they weren’t singing like they usually do. was that his fault? he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door, focusing harder. a foul, shocking odor struck him. alcohol in their blood? was that his fault?

treasure heard the door creak open and yelped. before they could peek around the curtain…. “it’s me, darling. are you drunk?” they stayed silent and felt their fear morph into a melancholic frustration. any other well adjusted member of society would be full of terror and adrenaline if someone suddenly appeared in their home, but porter ripped away that sense of normalcy long ago. the mere sound of his voice caused an irritation, never mind him calling them ‘darling’ again. they rolled their eyes.

“what on earth are you doing here?! i thought you’d at least have the sense to throw away the key,” they spat coldly. porter’s shoulders shrank a little and he looked down at the tile. usually he would remark that he didn’t need a key anyway, but that attitude was exactly what had earned him this mess. his voice was low and small.

“you want rid of me that much?”

the rushing water dampened his sound a bit, but treasure could easily tell he was being wary and... something else. they pulled the curtain back just enough to reveal their head and took in the sight of him. a black blazer with a scarf, as usual, except his slacks were wrinkled. and his hair wasn’t even gelled. odd. they leaned against the shower wall as to not lose their footing and played off their disorientation by scoffing at him, ignoring his question. “did your king take away your wares too? you look shitty.” porter didn’t laugh, and he certainly didn’t miss the indignation behind the word ‘king.’ he approached and loomed over them, masking his annoyance.

“please, enough about him. you’re drunk.”

they scoffed again and went back to their shower routine, rinsing the rest of their hair. they didn’t close the curtain though. porter took the subtle invitation and leaned against the drywall, watching them through the gap in the curtain. he widened it a bit with his hand and started again. “i can fix that for you. give me your hand and you’ll be sober.” porter never knew them as one to indulge so heavily. he didn’t want to push as to why they had drank because he had a feeling it would only make them blow up at him, but he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that wanted to prod. the way they prodded him. but not this time.

treasure mulled over his words and extended their hand without looking back at him. they of all people knew how senseless drunk conversations can be. porter gently took their hand and tried not to linger on how whole it made him feel. using magic, he traced the excess amounts of alcohol in their bloodstream and dissipated it. he stood watchfully, trying not to overstep but wanting desperately to keep hold of them during the jarring sobering. they wobbled on their feet with their eyes closed for a moment before opening and snapping their gaze back at him. there was the alertness they were lacking. “clearer?” he asked, to which they gave him a curt nod.

now that they were in their right mind, they scanned over his form once more: he wasn't a drunken illusion. an awkward silence fell over the pair. treasure's eyes flitted back and forth between porter and the shower wall. when porter didn't take the hint, they eventually spoke up. “get in if you want. you just look stupid standing there,” they mumbled, yanking the curtain shut.

porter’s clothes instantly phased away as he yielded to the insult and stepped into the enclosed space. he stayed opposite of treasure and kept his back pressed against the wet tile, his arms wrapped around his middle. treasure threw him a look over their shoulder, snickering dryly. “you only have good manners after we fight?” the vampire let out an amused huff from his nostrils and hung his head.

“it seems it always takes something drastic to make me learn, yes.”

treasure turned around fully and reached for their body scrub, looking up at him as they bent down. their gaze was steely but their lips were tempting. “well i haven’t heard a ‘sorry,’ so do i have to beat one out of you?” they joked humorlessly.

those words caused the flame of guilt to lick at porter’s skin once more. ‘beat one out of him’—were they being sarcastic at their own expense? the inhuman strength in every muscle fiber in his body told him yes. god, he used that against them in their argument. he talked down to them, using ‘human’ as an insult, shoving in their face how much power he held over them. he didn’t start the fight, but he didn’t have to finish it like that. he’d never harm them, but he gave them such a strong implication that he could and made them feel bad about it. he called them stupid for even being with him, made himself out to be a monster they needed to run from. but they both knew porter was the one who was running. even so, in all of porter’s long existence, treasure was the first thing he’d ever ran back to. he could lose everything, but not them.

porter took a small step forward with his head still hanging and motioned for the container of body scrub. treasure gave him a puzzled look. the vampire sighed and took another step, gently taking the container from their hand and setting it down. “treasure, i….” he considered their choice of words again. he finally raised his head and looked into their eyes. “you can—you can do anything you want to me. i’m very sorry for what i said, but… whatever satisfies you. whatever gives you power.”

the vampire in front of treasure was not one they easily recognized. his eyes were nearly-black orbs and shone with desperate longing. porter solaire was a slighting creature, who was this? it was porter, just porter. treasure gave him a slow nod. “make it up to me.”

the vampire’s eyes lit up and he swiftly made his move. his lips attached to treasure’s neck, fangs firmly retracted. this wasn’t about him, nothing tonight was about him. his hands slid up the wet slopes of their hips and waist. a trapped moan escaped him when he felt them like that. he was touching god and it was burning, but he loved it. his kisses trailed across their neck and up their chin, aiming for their perfect lips. but when he tried to reach them, a resounding smack echoed in their steamy enclosure. porter blinked and his head was whipped around to the right, a red hot sting on his cheek. treasure’s hand returned to grip his jaw and pointed his head forward at them.

“i didn’t give you permission to kiss me. you think you deserve my lips?” porter could’ve cum right there. he shook his head.

“no, no i don’t. can i earn it?” his voice was like nothing they had heard before.

“you can. do what i said and make it up to me. you know what i like.”

porter nodded once more before sinking to his knees, his hands slipping down their body reverently. he groaned at the smell of their arousal, his eyes rolling back and then locking back onto theirs. he briefly recalled the night they first met. if only he had known how mad he would go for the taste of what was in front of him.

the vampire pressed light kisses around their groin with his eyes remaining trained on theirs. just how they like it. “i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry,” he repeated in between kisses. treasure's hand came down to muss up his hair and his erection twitched. they nodded at him with a pleased grin and gave him a tug as a reward. his precum dribbled onto the grout.

shortly, porter's efforts made it so treasure leaked more of their own arousal; that was porter’s cue. he licked a long stripe upward, collecting their slick on his flattened tongue and letting out a whine at their salty taste. he quickly dove in for more, moaning louder than treasure. his hands were planted firmly in his lap, not touching himself or the beauty before him; he knew he wasn’t deserving of doing either. treasure smiled and leaned their head back, their hips bucking in a smooth rhythm against his mouth. porter could cry at their movement—the gorgeous fluidity and the signal that he was giving it to them right.

nothing ever felt as right as when he was giving them pleasure. he couldn’t count how many nights he would spend god knows where, making god knows who disappear; it wasn’t in his nature to bring anything but pain. he was a sinner through and through, but that first night with treasure at skyside, he thinks, he began repenting. he found religion in every breath they took, every twitch of ecstasy he fed them. he felt holy at their feet.

“porter, i’m so close,” they gasped, causing the vampire’s dead heart to pound. he nodded emphatically, shaking his head side to side just to give them that extra stimulation. his desperate moans also sent vibrations to their sensitive flesh, setting their nerves alight. their grip on his hair was lethal and porter’s arousal was reaching a tipping point. he no longer had control over himself; treasure was pushing and pulling and holding his face flush against them until any normal human would’ve suffocated. porter’s mind was going hazy as if he was, his true feelings emerging from thoughtless bliss.

“i could die,” he panted as he gazed up at them, “let me die like this.” they climaxed only a second later.

ambrosia seeped onto porter’s tongue and he drank piously, catching every drop. treasure’s wanton whimpers and breaths filled the vampire’s ears and he couldn’t have been happier. he knew this is where he belonged, and he wouldn’t ever forgive himself for nearly forsaking it.

treasure finally let go of porter’s hair and he whined at the loss. they chuckled breathlessly and patted their chest, signaling that they wanted to be eye to eye. the vampire quickly stood, hissing quietly when his painful erection brushed up against their stomach. he swallowed at the closeup view of their blissed-out face; their eyes were in a lazy, seductive droop, but their grin was what ensnared him. he hadn’t seen one in days and now he’d earned one back, no matter the sadistic undertones behind it. they reached a hand out and cupped his cheek, smiling wider when his eyelids fluttered at the touch. porter didn’t notice their hand sneaking down to grip his base and his eyes shot open once he felt it.

“i’m assuming you want this taken care of?” they teased, tapping his cock against their stomach. he groaned pathetically, putting his hands on the wall behind them. he gripped at nothing, fingers clenching and unclenching around nothing and trying not to crack the tile. hovering over treasure was a beast of incomprehensible strength, holding himself back for one reason: forgiveness.

“treasure… i’m begging you.”

their wolfish grin slowly faded as they leaned in closer, squeezing his cock harshly. “and you’ll keep begging until i forgive you.” with that, they released him and shut off the water, promptly snatching their towel and stepping onto the floor mat without him. they left the bathroom before he could even process what they said.

the vampire blinked and hurried after them, bare and dripping wet. treasure was already laying on their back in bed, equally naked and damp. their towel was beneath them and they gazed at him expectantly. porter’s eyes widened as he realized what they wanted. he could hardly believe it. with vampiric speed, he was on his knees over them in a split second. their legs were spread and knees bent up, the sight making him look away and curse. god, he couldn’t take it. but treasure wasn’t having that. a smack to the thigh and his eyes were snapped open.

“you’ll look at me when you fuck me, or i’ll make you stop. don’t even fucking blink,” they threatened lowly. porter moaned but nodded, leaning down to be closer to them. without breaking eye contact, he spat on his fingers and rubbed it on their entrance, hoping to please them again. they sighed airily and reached down for his cock, unexpectedly prodding themself with it. porter gasped and almost lost his balance, catching himself on the pillow next to their head. they snickered and rolled their eyes, easing his length inside of them. it was still faster than porter ever started off, and he showed his unpreparedness by cursing and gripping their sheets. they swiftly got him fully seated and let them both settle into it, their gummy walls hugging porter’s cock snugly. he looked as if he was containing a scream.

“t-treasure you—gods, you could’ve hurt yourself doing that,” he heaved, his chest rising and falling as he tried not to cum. in response, they dug their nails into the small of his back and raked down to his ass, watching his head roll back and his mouth gape. always a sucker for pain, scratches were his favorite kryptonite. treasure had an unreadable look and gave the command he had been yearning for.

“i’m fine, just fuck me. don’t you dare go slow.”

porter was mildly concerned by their order, but he had to give them what they wanted. he would rather die than not. his hips pulled back until just his tip was inside before coming back down, thrusting smoothly into them. the sinful sound of his hips smacking into the back of their thighs drove them both wild. treasure’s nails only sank deeper into his skin, causing porter’s own wobbly grin to emerge. he fucked them faster, egged on by the delicious sting. he lowered himself more so their bodies were flush. their nipples rubbed against his chest and he panted in their ear, “like this, my love? tell me, please tell me i’m giving you what you want. fuck….”

in their own rapture, they nodded and turned their head to smile back at him. their words were mere breathy puffs of air. “uh-huh… yes, god yes. don’t stop ‘til i cum.” as if porter would’ve done otherwise.

treasure was making such a mess of themself it was audible. the vampire looked down and saw the telltale shiny slick, whining in their ear at the sight. they were so turned on for him. he put his weight on his left forearm which rested above their head and used his free hand to snake down their stomach, reaching their leaking essence. he put the pad of his thumb on their most sensitive spot and stroked up and down, up and down, earning strangled, surprised moans. his eyes bore into theirs as he continued his ministrations while fucking them, his expression one of a dog that just performed a trick for its owner: hopeful, eager, and aching for approval. “fuck, that’s how you like it…. i’ll make you cum, i’ll make you cum so fucking hard, treasure.”

the vampire was reaching speeds only his kind are able to, making treasure’s thighs ripple in ways they hadn’t felt before. porter never had a reason to fuck them this good before, and now that he was, they didn’t think they could ever go back. their body was bouncing as they lay down, mouth agape with licentious sounds pouring out. they hated that their hostility had crumbled under his hips, but they knew they’d have hated themself more if they pushed him away. right then, they just wanted to cum on his cock.

the bed frame squeaked and slid against the floor, banging against the wall. porter’s tempo was perfect, so fucking good against that sweet spongy spot inside them, his tip kissing it over and over. he didn’t know how he was holding it together. “i’m getting close, treasure. fuck, you have to cum, you have to,” he choked out in a frenzy. his thumb rubbed and stroked them faster, his hips losing rhythm but gaining speed. somehow through their pleasure-blinded haze, treasure looked porter in the eyes and raked their nails once more down his back. fuck, he wished he could scar.

“mm, beg me. beg for my cum,” they demanded with a groan. porter felt himself instantly melt under their authority and he whined in frustration, his knees almost buckling at their words. he fucked them faster and complied.

“fuck, please treasure! i need your cum, i fucking need it! i can’t—i can’t cum before you, i don’t deserve it. you have to cum for me, m-my love. i’ll never fucking raise my voice at you again, never. gods, oh my gods, please please please cum!”

he looked in their eyes the whole time, beggarly and despairing. treasure couldn’t help but succumb to all of the pleasure he was throwing at them. a few deep, swift thrusts later and they were creaming all over him. they went stiff and their mouth dropped open in a silent scream. porter felt their hole clench and pulse around him, effortlessly sending him down the same path. his cum pumped inside of them in thick ropes of ivory. he buried his head in their neck and let out a continuous string of groans and whimpers, hips shallowly bucking with each spurt of cum. his thumb never stopped stroking even as treasure reached the end of their climax. they enjoyed that slight bit of overstimulation, so they didn’t stop him. it was endearing how focused he was on making them feel good even in the throes of his own ecstasy.

porter eventually finished and collapsed beside them, eyes shut and breaths heavy. treasure remained on their back and stared up at the ceiling just as they were before he arrived. though, they were now drunk on him instead of wine. his cum steadily oozed out of them and they briefly thanked themself for having the foresight to put the towel underneath them.

“you’re cleaning this up,” they mumbled, breaking the silence. porter had practically rendered their shower useless, after all. the vampire cracked an eye open and wore a neutral expression.

“of course i am, my sweet, but in a moment. i missed this,” he replied evenly. treasure simply nodded and went back to staring upward. their gaze shifted to the ceiling fan and focused on a single fan blade, following it through each slow revolution. they felt a hand cautiously slide across their stomach, ending up cupping their side. porter scooted closer to them and held them like that, almost balling himself up in the fetal position beside them. they didn’t look over at him. they were afraid if they did, they would break. a part of them was still upset at him and knew they would confront him again, but the larger part told them that now was not the time. if they looked over at him now, they knew they would forget why they were even mad at him in the first place. for now, in this moment, they would let sleeping dogs lie and bask in the arms of a creature who would do anything for them, knowingly or not.

@vind3miat0r :)))

[der-schweizer]

Part one

"Dann-o” Jack spoke with his usual cheer whilst throwing his arms wide for a backbreaking hug.

Danny hugged him back just as hard, having grown up and out in the years since then. He almost matched Jack in every aspect, but was just a slight bit smaller and slimmer.

“How have you been, son?” They sat down at the low table in the hall. Ever since Jack had been transferred to a low level security prison they had met in person without a glass in between.

“Oh you know, same as always, job is stressing out, still being head over heels for Cass, getting called for the occasional Justice League duty. You know, the usual. Oh yeah here, look at this!”

Danny reached into his pocket and pulled out multiple polaroid pictures. The first one showed Danny in a well fitted suit that didn’t look awkward on him. He gave the cam a big grin and a small peace sign. Next to him stood Tucker, Dick and Damian.

The next one showed Cass, walking down the Aisle in a beautiful wedding dress, Bruce guided her down looking constantly at her with a mix of emotions on his face.

Jack flipped to the next one showing both of them standing in front of the Priest holding hands, it was followed immediately by the first kiss.

“Danno. I'm so proud of you!” Jack was nearly bawling at the sight. Danny just ducked his head a bit and scratched the back of his neck. “Thanks dad. Oh, there’s more.” He gestured to the pictures only to pause and listen to something only he could hear. He then got up rather quickly, “Sorry, I'd love to stay but something really important just came up and I have to go.” Danny nearly ran away before he hollered over his shoulder, “You can keep them! The guards already approved!” Jack didn't even have time to ask what was going on before Danny had left the visiting area.

Slightly dejected he sat back down, and went to look through the pictures again. There was cutting the Cake, the Dance, all of them being pretty wasted and then the final one he couldn’t figure out. It looked like a scan of something, but no matter which way he turned it, he couldn't figure out what it was supposed to show.

Cass was breathing hard. It had been a decent day so far, key word being so far, before Darkside decided he wanted to have another go at conquering the world. So here she, and the entire rest of the JL, stood and/or laid.

He had come at them swinging, literally. Superman had been knocked out within minutes of the invasion going on. They didn’t even have the time to give a general evacuation order and simply had told the speedsters to ‘do their best and be fast’.

She jumped out of the way of another parademon, used a batarang to cut tendons and then snapped its neck as it toppled. She felt sick, not just because she had to kill but also bec—Darkside slammed into the ground not two feet away from her, peppering her body with pebbles. Cass had just enough time to try and shield her face from the fist that will undoubtedly cave her skull in.

The punch was stopped dead in its tracks by a hand. “Cass, oh Anicents. I came as fast as I could. Are you okay?” Danny was suddenly there, holding Darkside back as if he was nothing more than a toddler.

The word confused didn’t even begin to describe how she felt. Darkside radiated the same emotion only to straighten out and assume his ‘better than you’ posture.

“And who might you be?”

Danny just threw a casual look over his shoulder, then went back to fussing over Cass. Getting her to sit down, and have her drink from a cold water bottle.

“I am speaking with you.” Darkside chimed, sounding more than a bit hacked off.

“Yeah, and I’m ignoring you. So shut.” 

Darkside was taken aback by the blunt and utter dismissal from the boy, “Now listen to me—” “No. Go away you big lug, I'm busy.” Danny had even found a big rock where Cass could elevate her slightly twisted ankle.

Finally having enough of it Darkside stepped forwards, throwing a punch at Danny's head only for a Creature to jump out of his shadow. “Damn it, twerp. Can’t I leave you for a single day alone without you getting into trou—” “Dan.” Danny just cut the guys rant off. “Fuck him up.”

“HA! FINALLY AN ORDER I LIKE!!” ‘Dan bellowed before lunging at Darkside. He simply grabbed him around the waist and then hurled Darkside back only to fly right after him and start punching. Every Superhero watched as Darkside was pummeled by the being that had suddenly shown up.

Cass just looks from this ‘Dan’ to her sweet husband and back, “What.” Was all she sad. “Okay, look there might be some things I haven’t yet fully explained.” There's a loud ‘This is better than that time I killed Superman’ in the back. Danny just winces. “Okay there might be more than a few things.

Batman stalked over and glared at him. “Fenton, explain.” Danny turns to the masked man and pulls a face. “Do you want the long version or the short one?” “Hnn.”

“Look, I'm not fluent in Bat-grunt so you have to use words. Preferably English.”

Every Social media account of the Waynes posted the same set of pictures. Bruce’s Twitter account had a picture of him, bawling his eyes out whilst holding a newborn baby. Next to him was Danny, grinning like a loon and giving a thumbs up. On his other side was Dick, who was also grinning whilst holding up a piece of paper that had an arrow on it that pointed to Bruce, beneath the Arrow was the word ‘Grandpa’ in large letters.

Tim’s Account had him sitting in a Chair, awestruck as a second newborn held his finger. His face was somewhere between awed and babyface. Next to him was Daimian, who looked down with an incredible soft look on his face.

Finally Stephanie's Account had a Pic of her and Cass, who was in a hospital bed and giving a peace sign. Steph was grinning wildly, one of her arms was slung around Cass.

Danny’s Account had a picture of him and Cass, each holding one baby. The description of the post read ‘Dear Gotham, please welcome Thomas and Amber Wayne to the world.’