#NO shooting people. trap them in a fucking mirror instead

[nat-20s]

Sorry i think it's a little bit funny that nuwho Doctors are so anti-gun but NOT actually against killing. They just all think that murder is only right when it's convoluted as hell.

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Alterations

Rabbit has her first on site accident. She literally comes out of it a changed woman. Whether this is a good thing remains to be seen.

Triggers: life or death struggle, blood, implied death, overprotective Clef, loud profanity, trapped Rabbit

I wake up to blaring alarms, gunfire, screaming, and general chaos. I dress, grab my combat gear and head out, expecting the Insurgency again. What I find are typical goons, black-clad and with worse aim than the average Imperial Stormtrooper. Hell, these boys are so dumb I literally walked up behind one and knock him out with a sucker punch to the nose. There's a crunch, and boom goes the goon. Huh. No insignia on his kit. Not Insurgency then. Still... bad idea breaking in here, guys. If we don't get you... there's always the residents. Speaking of... looks like someone met 073, and it went better for Cain than him. Cain is standing over the dead guy, a bullet hole in his shirt, but the wound is on the dead thug, right through the heart.

"Who are these people?" Cain looks at me, confused.

"Not Insurgency goons, I think. See any more?"

"Twelve, headed toward the Mechanical Anomalies wing. I do not think that would be such a good thing for us. We should stop them."

"Sorry, Cain. We're supposed to protect you. I have a better idea. Find Dr. Clef. Tell him to bring the whole squad. These boys are going to regret breaking into our home, I swear on 035's overdramatic attitude."

"Right. Be careful, Little Sister. As angry as... the other guy is with me now, he would be much more angry if you were hurt."

"I'll be careful. You be careful too. Attacks might not hurt you, but the jury is still out on environmental damage."

We separate, and I run into a handful of thugs outside 914. Three go down to gunshots, two more meet my feet. And... then there were five. One manages to open the door. We all rush in, amid a flurry of punches and kicks. I get socked in the left eye, but the guy who hit me is out. As are two of his buddies. The other three team up, and I'm shoved into a metal box. Crap. It's the intake side. I hear one of the thugs outside.

"Wonder if we turn this thing on 'very fine' if it'd hurt that bitch."

"Dunno. Let's find out." A dial turns, the machine activates... everything goes dark. It. Fucking. Hurts. Like being torn into a million pieces. Oh 343, if I survive... forgive me for what I want to do to them. Somehow... I hear a familiar shout. It's Clef. There may not be enough ass left to kick when I get out. Dr. Gears is with him. And he's got a grenade launcher. How do I even know that?

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO? Where is Agent Rabbit?" Gears is shouting at them.

"Gears, she's in the Clockworks." Clef shoots one of the goons. "That was for my favorite intern." Another shot. "That was for the three teams your crew slaughtered." He reloads. There's only one now... and he wished he wore the brown trousers. I would, if I had to deal with both Gears and Clef pissed off. The machine dings. And... I survived. I have no idea what happened to me, but... I'm alive. The door opens, I step out, and Clef rushes to see if I'm okay. He stops two meters before me. The thug is cowering, muttering gibberish. I can make out a few phrases.

"Dios mio, I am sorry. What have we done?"

"You fucked up a perfectly good intern, is what you did." Huh. Is... is that what I sound like now? Like I have a megaphone in my throat? Yikes. I may never speak again. "Now... fuck off."

"Que?"

"Fuck. Off. I'm giving you a five second head start. Run." I flap my... wings? What the fuck? I have wings now? Forget it... the guy runs. Time to hunt the goon. I take off out of the room, chasing him. I catch him right outside the men's room. Perfect. I can wash the blood off me, at least my hands and face. I slam him into the wall... and through it. Huh. Super strength. Wait til Abel finds out. I wind up in front of the mirror, and look at myself. Wow. I'm uninjured, my hair is now red instead of dark brown, my height increased by at least half a foot, and... the wings. There's six of the things, the ones on my right are flaming, the others frozen. I can see through my torn off left sleeve that arm is now covered in tattoos, blue-white roses amid green leaves and thornvines. Nice, but... what the hell did 914 do to me?

Clef and Gears catch up to me. They're both staring at me like they're seeing me for the first time. Which, to be fair... it kinda is. At least, the accidentally improved me.

"Rabbit... wow. Normally, I'd be against extreme makeovers... but you're hot."

"Clef, three of my wings are permanently on fire, it seems. Oh." I look in the mirror again. The face is mine, yet... not. A refined version of me. Weird. Meh. At least I only have the wings. Huh. Wonder if I can tuck them in or something. I will my wings to fold, and they melt into my back. Good. Damn things would just be in the way.

"We're going to want to run some tests, see what you can do. And there's going to be a mountain of paperwork." Gears said. "But, I'm just glad you're still mostly our Rabbit. I'd hate to lose one of our brighter lights in the darkness."

"Honestly, Big Boss... I'm just thrilled I survived. Just... don't sign me up for a cell of my own just yet. I'm still me, I'm still part of the Foundation. I'm just... altered. And in desperate need of a good cup of tea."

"Rabbit, my wee bunny... I'll make you a whole pot. You still on the jasmine green kick?"

"Yeah. Hey, have I ever told you that you two are my favorite bosses, ever?"

"You're not getting out of the physical, little Bunny." Gears responds.

"Ah, bugger all that for a game of soldiers! You know I hate physicals."

[woeiswo]

I 5hink somebody studies my pants too much nigger.

5 is that supposed to b3 a fist nigger?

Normal people don't study their neighbors laundry cycles aaNIGGER.

What is it that you want? To threaten me with your carelessness in parking and handling sharp desktop computer metal edges around my vehicle as i sit here minding my own business and watch you test waters with me, nigger? Was that to enhance the 3xperience nigger?I'm not going to chase you. Being predatory is illegal and I don't care.

What are you trying to hold a mirror up to dickhead? What are you showing me?

That you're "on to me", nigger? That you saw what I did in the parking lot last month, but can't say it because you'll go to jail for spying and all the names and contacts that trace back and associate with you nigger?

That you're ready to shoot me on sight from a rifle if I stand too close to a girl you fap over, and don't do shit when you see somebody advance on me or my property. You're there to watch and enjoy my failings, not protect me or my victories nigger.

You rationalize why you should be q fucking dick to people instead of rationalizing why you should respect them nigger. This is still the jungle and animal kingdom.

What ABOUT this q shit? nigger.

Are you trying to say something lassie? Is Timmy trapped in a well nigger?

The fucker that slashed my tires.... did you get up in his shit all serial killer style to let him know that you were on to him nigger? Or do you just get off on your peacock dance shit with me nigger.

Were you hoping to initiate conversation or a conflict? Was that your way of "checking me out"? Who encourages you nigger? Is it normal for you to play recklessly with other people's expensive shit or test their tolerance for you at their boundaries nigger? Are you a fucking trap?

Would I be writing this if you didn't choose to get up in my shit? Nigger?

Or is that your whole game, trying to force me to words with you nigger? Maybe piss words out of me like your sodomized bladder? nigger.

Not enough work time. Too much fun time. So make problems and budget my fate for me huh nigger?

Arte alucinante in, nigger.

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[rcksmith]

Heaven — Five Hargreeves

Request: “Can I get 53, 31, 48 from fluff and 28 and 29 and 68 with heavy smut? Where Five is an emotionless Assassin from the commission and does his job without remorse or mercy until he meets the reader and he will do anything to make her his? And will kill anyone who gets in his way between him and the reader? If your okay with this!”

Fluff prompts:

31. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

48. “nothing else matters except for you.”

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

68. “Say my name over and over again and, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good.“

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

My God, I loved it so much!! Thank you so much for request, I loved writing it!💖💖 I hope you like!

Guys, I really understand who doesn’t feel comfortable reading or writing Five’s smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: SMUT, SMUT, bad words, blood, murder, mention of death (and sooo explicit heavy smut), fluff too.

— — — — —

He was not a saint.

The trail of blood, bodies and the smell of death he had left behind could terrify even the strongest mind. He could get the devil to run.

He has already broken many bones, but none of them were his own. Once, there was an army, he was alone, and he broke many bones.

He was not a saint.

If there was a note for death and danger, it would be his symphony of life. Echoing and constant whenever the viscous and metallic liquid stained him white shirt.

Five Hargreeves did not consider himself a good person. But he didn't think he was bad too. He was just minding his own business. Even if it meant killing the innocent people that the Commission was ordering.

It was ironic. Five had been raised by Reginald to be a hero, to save people, and what he was doing was just the opposite. Was Needed cold blood, a focused mind, an objective.

Five had a closed and serious countenance. And in his case, the book could very well be judged by the cover, because Five it was also closed and serious inside. He It had the typical soul of a storm and a rough sea, where the wind blew with fury and the rain punished, while the sea was brutal and with aggressive waves capable of swallowing up a city in its entirety.

Anyone could see the warning sign hanging from his chest: "GIVE UP ALL THE HOPE IF YOU ENTER HERE." He was advancing with heavy artillery. Five was heavy artillery. The Commission considered he best of the best.

Five Hargreeves could get the devil to run. Nobody couldn't fool him, hook him, he wasn't a trout. He was a shark, dangerous and big. With a sharp and cruelly intelligent mind. Working in an equally sharp and cruelly intelligent environment.

But none of that bothered him. Five did not fear the fury of the Commission or its representatives. Machiavelli said that: you can only insult the other if you are not afraid of his retaliation. And Five feared no one. When angry, he had the same caustic look that Lucifer threw around shortly after The Fall. And it was a surprise that that look did not leave a trail of rubble wherever it passed.

Five did not liked what he job did, but it did not affect that he was very good at it. He had been anesthetized for years. Submerged in an inertia of emotions that not even the largest number of victims could tremble. He was already convinced that his furthermore emotions were buried as deep as possible in his soul of the troubled sea, lost. Such as Atlantida. Perhaps, like Atlandida, his emotions were a myth.

And Five had already accepted that. Even he sets eyes on you.

It was another routine day of that profane work: finding the target, shooting down, not leaving witnesses and leaving. And that was exactly what would be done. If it was not you.

Five was seated at one of the tables at a local Irish bar, the glass filled with cold beer set in front of him. The rays of the sun, from a year that he did not even care to know more about, were entering inside the large windows that overlooked the busy streets. People's humorous conversations filled that place with bright, welcoming walls, but Five felt none of it. Anesthetized.

But for some reason, when the door bell rang when someone came in, he raised his face towards the door and... his breath was gone.

The moment you walked through that door, Five knew it was hopeless for him. Your beauty was blinding. Sublime. Impressive. He felt as if his whole life had been wandering in the desert and finally found his oasis. Lepid, fierce heat swept Five's body from the top of his head with night-black hair to the tip of his feet.

You wandered your eyes around the place, and you seemed to find what you wanted because your eyes softened and you went towards your goal.

But just as Five was oblivious to the world because of you, so were you oblivious to the world, but for something else. And it was like this, oblivious, that you hit your waist on the front end of Five's table, causing his glass to swing and fall on the table, pouring all the beer on the floor. Five stood up quickly to keep from getting wet, but a few splashes of the cold drink had hit his suit.

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

You said promptly, trembling hands quickly lifting the glass from the table, your voice nervous and embarrassed. You righted his table while the waitress came to clean up the spilled liquid.

“I wet your suit, god, I'm so sorry.” And when Five noticed,your hands were drying the beer droplets with a napkin.

That was when the two of you looked at each other for the first time. The heat immediately gave way to a cold sweat.

Something inside him stirred and woke up, something that had been dormant for years. Sensations that had never before appeared now snaked through his body, waiting for the best time to hang him. Even with a layer of clothing and a napkin, Five felt the warmth of you touch, and he wondered if you had been forged in the sun.

Dangerous. The sensations you aroused in him were dangerous. And therefore, you were dangerous.

“It's all right.”

If it had been anyone else, Five would have burst. His moods were not one of the best and he felt that anything could set him on fire.

But apparently, not for you.

That afternoon, Five convinced you to join him, saying, whit charming, he would forget about the incident if you sat with him.

He tried to convince himself not to do that, that he should just give a mocking smile and leave. He had done this millions of times, and he knew it was one of the best ways to avoid headaches. Even so, the smile didn't come and he couldn't turn his back on you.

The sensations you stirred up in him were addictive, and Five was lost in a hurricane, trying to understand what was happening to him. But he couldn't let you go. Not without knowing his name.

But it took on proportions that he never considered. You were funny, witty, with an intelligent, warm gleam in your eyes. At that moment, while Five found himself really enjoying someone's company instead of just tolerating it, he felt out of his own body.

God, he was losing track of reality.

He had a job to do, a person to finish. The list was full but... but his body didn't order any muscles to move. It was like... while you were talking to him, with an extraordinary friendliness and ease of making friends, he felt alive for the first time.

Five had been alive for 25 years. But only now did he feel his own heart beat.

But when your time inevitably came, and you said goodbye and thanked you for the lunch that Five and you had — he didn't even remember how the situation got there. Since when did he have lunch with someone? — As soon as you left for that door, it took with you all the new feelings that were aroused within him.

Executing the target that day was weird, going to Motel's room was weird, and cleaning the blood was weird. There was something different, a shortness of breath, an itch in the palm of his hand, his body desperate for something he didn't know what it was.

Five Hargreeves stayed in that martyrdom for days, weeks. He was trying to understand his own body, his own mind. He felt he was losing his sanity and that the body, now that he experienced what it was like to be alive, repudiated the feeling of feeling dead.

He was trapped in some damn spell that you had cast on him. If Five looked in the mirror at the place of the chest you touched over his shirt, he could feel his skin tingle.

Fuck, he was losing his sanity!

The situation was stupid, he didn't need anyone, he didn't depend on anyone. But after the second week Five found himself returning to that bar again, feeling completely stupid to be looking for someone he barely knew.

What a stupid thing. He said to himself as soon as entered that place.

But that's when he saw you. With the bar uniform on, you hair tied up in a ponytail with a few strands dangling from your face, your chest slightly heaving, a pad of paper with a pen in hands. His heart skipped a beat, as if he found something he didn't even know was lost.

Five felt lost amidst a jumble of thoughts and reactions. But as soon as you saw him, with a smile was purely sincere and happy appearing on you lips and went towards him, the answers to all the questions that plagued him for weeks flashed in his mind like neon lights:

I want her.

He wanted you since the day he saw you. You were beautiful, with a maddening body, a sublime smile and the heat of a thousand suns. Now Five realized that had never wanted anything so desperately in his life.

Five thought he understood the desire: an attraction, a magnetic current between two people. He thought he knew what lust was: an intense hunger, a strong yearning. And he found out that he didn't understand anything.

For when you embraced him and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, the desire was a hot, black whirlwind that ripped you from end to end, with dizzying speed, and dragged you towards perdition, below any intellect. Five thought he was going crazy when he felt your heart beat next to his, in the same frantic rhythm. The same compass needed.

But Five was not going crazy. He wasn’t crazy when he saw your cheeks flush when he looked at you more carefully, he wasn’t crazy when he noticed your hands trembling slightly with his presence.

Were you feeling the same things?

Yes. And he found that out when first kissed you. It had been a few weeks since he had used, for himself, the excuse that he was going to that bar just to drink something and not to see you again.

But that was not how you two met that day

Five had just finished a job that did not end soo much great. A fight had taken place, and a bullet had grazed his left shoulder, tearing through the flesh. His clothes were flooded with red, thick, metallic liquid. His muscles ached and the wound stung like hell.

He was on his way back when the car popped loudly, the car stalled in place and smoke began to rise from the bikes.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Five punched the steering wheel, cursed the Commission for making such a damn fuck thing available.

He had just gotten out of the car when a car passed by and stopped.

“Five?” This time, his body throbbed for something else instead of pain.

He saw you get out of the car, your eyes shocked, the livid concern on your face, your hands shaking.

“My god, are you okay?!”

Five hated to appear that he was not able to deal with anything, but there was no plausible and peaceful lie to what you were seeing. You didn't let him make any decisions at that moment, you just stuck him in you own car, and when the chance of taking Five to the hospital had been vehemently denied by him, you ran the car to you own apartment.

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

You whispered to yourself, now at in your bed, closing the cut on Five's shoulder after he took a shower.

“I can do this.” He repeated it for the ninth time, but you shook your head.

But, while for you the situation was only for first aid, for Five it was torture in a very different sense.

Your touch was addictive, hot and fiery. Five didn't want to want you, but he did. He wanted you to beg for it too, so that Five could pretend to be in control. He wanted you to burn for him, just as he always burned when he was near you.

Under a light gauze, you covered the bruise on his shoulder, letting out a loud sigh that went to another very specific spot on Five's body. You asked for an explanation and he said that he had been mugged and reacted, but that the bandits had received what they deserved. He had to lie. At least for now. At least while he wanted you so much to touch him.

Perhaps this madness would pass.

But it didn't pass, your hands were still on Five's warm skin and he felt his heart pounding in his chest.

He wanted you. Holy Mother of God, he wanted you so fuck much! The knuckles of his fingers were whitened, the strength with which he clenched his fists.

But you whispered his name under your breath, as if you too were trapped in that cloud of lust and passion. So it was the end. Five kissed you, hungry, desperate, as if he wasn't going to have a tomorrow. He pulled you around the waist so you could sit on his lap, his hands roaming your body, squeezing all the flesh he could touch.

“I was asking how much more time was take to you to kiss me.”

You whispered against his lips, with a mischievous smile on your face, your hands roaming through his hair as you held a sigh when he adjusted your hips under you. God only knows how long you've been dreaming about this guy.

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” Five barely recognized his own voice.

This time, you who kissed him, your body burning in suppressed passion and desire, burning under the intense touch of Five. You hardly saw it when your shirt left, nor when you skirt went up until it was exposed to him. You whimpered, your lips going down to his neck and hiding your face there, squirming when his hand went up from your thigh to its pulsating center.

“Your skin is so hot. You were wishing for that, weren't you?” Five whispered, his voice hoarse.

You heart was beating fast in chest, cheeks were flushed, and Five brought your face up to look at him, lust bubbling in her eyes. You frantically agreed, rummaging you hips in him when you gasped. He curled his mouth over your left breast, groaning against your skin as you tightened your fingers on the back of his neck.

“F-five!” The liquid dripped from inside you to your thighs, and Five let out a loud moan of satisfaction when he saw it.

He raised his mouth to you, and, without kissing you, he sighed maliciously on yours lips: “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

After that point, everything became more crude. Five's touch on your waist gained pressure, marking your skin with purple marks on his fingers, his mouth bit and sucked on your breast, like a hungry man, and you were being driven crazy.

That's when two of his fingers entered you, deep, strong, opening your walls.

"Five!" You moaned loudly, your body hot under his lap, at the mercy of lustful desires.

“Shit! You are so tight!” His moan transcended between painful and angry, as if you were pushing him to the limit. “How are you going to put up with my dick, doll? You almost can't take my fingers!”

Five jerked his fingers inside you and hit rock bottom. You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes, the walls throbbing on his dick.

“Answer me!” His free hand came down on your thigh, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning loudly again.

“II am going to put up with you-everything.” You whined.

“How much?!” Five pulled your chin up to look at him, the hunger overwhelming his eyes, he's holding on as much as possible so he doesn't deal too badly with you.

Not yet.

“An-Anything as you give it to me.” You purred like a kitten "Fuck me hard, Five."

Oh you didn't say that.

His hand came down on your left cheek, letting out a soft slap and pulled your chin back at him, he jaw clenched by the effort he made to keep from fucking and hitting you so hard.

“Do you want it hard?! I will leave you without walking for days!” Five got up with you on his lap, threw you on the bed and slapped your thigh.

“Turn around!” He ordered in a snarl, removing his own pants, and as soon as you positioned yourself with your hips up and your face on the mattress, a hard, brutal slap made you moan loudly, squeezing your hands on the pillow.

The right hand wrapped around your hair, pulling your face off the pillow as Five positioned itself behind you.

“What you want?” He growled.

“I whant You fuck me hard!” God, you were begging, you needed him so much, you wanted him so much.

“How much hard?”

“Much! I want you to fuck me until I can't stay…”

Five came inside you brutally, pushing your body onto the mattress, making you moan loudly. He didn't let you finish, it barely gave you time to moan. As soon as he started to move, his rhythm became relentless, coarse, rude, forcing himself deeper inside you with each thrust.

Tears stung your face, you pussy throbbed in excitement, so fucking good that you felt like you were in heaven.

“What is it, lillet slut?” He pushed deeper, his voice arrogant and condescending, “Am I too big for you? For that tight pussy?” A slap went down your ass again, the other hand never coming out of your hair.

“F-fi-five! Please, I need this so much!”

The desperation in your voice did things to him, further igniting Five's desire to fuck you until he broke you.

“You were so tight! So. fucking. tight!” And you moaned and pushed him hips at him like you couldn't live without what he gave you. “Fuck, this is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted me to broke you!”

“Yes!” You screamed as he keeping fuck you deeper and deeper “Pl-please!”

Your voice was too much for him! Five's hunger snarled and roared like a beast, increasing the desire to get you so badly. He hit your ass hard, letting go of your hair and sticking both hands on your waist, pulling you violently to his dick.

“Say my name over and over again! And, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good! ” Five combined a deep thrust with the tug on his waist, making his dick reach your unimaginable corners.

“Five!”

“Higher!” A slap.

“Five!” One more slap.

“Higher!” Another slap.

“F-FIVE!”

His mouth went to your shoulder, his lips tightening there as he pushed himself deep inside you. You were very close, super stimulated, your legs were shaking, your heart was pounding.

Five was fucking you so hard that you could barely groan, giving you sensations that you never felt before. You came with a loud groan, trembling on his dick, losing your breath when Five sank to the bottom of the well and came there, filling you with his hot cum.

Five Hargreeves thought that after that he would be free of your effects, freed from that desperation that was always wanting to be with you.

But then again, he was deeply mistaken.

Everything only increased in unimaginable proportions. Jealousy came, the overwhelming sense of protection, the need to be with you. Now he not only fucked you hard, but he made a point of leaving you at work and picking you up at night.

And that's when you said you loved him. And his world has turned inside out once again. Five didn't respond right away, he was dumbfounded and bewildered, and you said he only had to speak when he was ready.

He love you? That question hung around his mind for days.

Five felt at peace with you company, relaxed with your touch, happy whenever he heard your voice. You were the only place he thought about going back after a hard job, after the day had gotten the best of him.

He love you?

That was when The Handler told him, in one day, that it was good that his new “pet” did not make him deviate from the Commission's objectives.

Five has never felt so furious in his life. He came as close to her as possible, making her look death in the eye, and said that if any hair disappeared from your pretty head, he would stop everything and kill everyone on that commission. And The Handler knew that Five was not bluffing.

That's when he found out that he loved you. That the idea of ​​seeing you hurt, even if it was a scratch, was unacceptable. And that's when Five realized that his world only revolved when you were with him.

“I love you.” He released that night, you were lying on his chest, watching some series on TV when Five cut off the characters' lines.

You looked at him in bewilderment, propping yourself up on your elbow to see him better.

“What?”

Five looked him in the eye, and in the most sincere and truthful way, he said: "nothing else matters except for you."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you kissed him as if Five were your whole world. In fact, he certainly were your world. But it was at that moment that he said he had to talk to you, and that's when he told you the whole truth.

Shocked would be an understatement to say what you felt at that moment.

It took a few days for you to digest the whole truth and several conversations with Five to understand what was really going on. You saw his powers, his briefcase, his life story. And Five knew, when the dust settled and you said that none of that mattered, that you really loved him.

“I just can't have anything with someone who hides things from me.” You said “ I understand the reasons why you didn't tell me before, but now I don't want any more lies between us.”

“None.” He smiled, and looked at you as if he finally understood that you loved him.

And it is logical that you noticed.

“ I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you." You laughed.

And in that moment, in that fraction of a second, Five realized that he would never be able to live without you.

“I'm just afraid of your job. Whether you get hurt or they want to hurt you coming after me and…”

Five didn't let you finish. He held you in his hands, your cheeks in his palms, and whispered, “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part four

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: After the return of her abusive ex-boyfriend, the reader plots her escape

Word count: 2,9k words

Warnings: bad language, alludes to the death of a minor character, physical & verbal abuse & kinda angsty

Author's note: Enjoy the fourth installment and all feedback is welcome! :)

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

💀💀💀💀💀

You examine your face in the mirror, pleased with the job you’ve done to conceal the marks left by B/N. Last night was brutal and you would do anything to erase it from your memory. To never have it happen again.

“Toots!” A loud pounding sounds on the bathroom door, “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I-I’ll be there in a second.” Moving quickly, you pack your makeup back into your cosmetic bag. “I just need to grab my bag.”

“Five minutes, okay?” he sounds irritated with you. “We’ll wait outside.”

With a shaking hand, you zip the bag closed and leave the bathroom for the bedroom. Your handbag is on the bed but your phone’s not on its usual spot at your bedside table and you just know B/N has something to do with its disappearance. And you know that it’ll be a while before you see it again. You’re so upset, it brings tears to your eyes but there’s no time for them. He’s waiting for you and being late will lead to trouble.

S/N and B/N are on the small patch of grass outside the house, kicking around a ball.

“You gotta kick the ball to me, okay kid? You gotta kick it hard.”

S/N scurries towards the ball and kicks it so hard, it zooms between B/N’s open legs and bounces off of the fence. They both cheer from excitement, and S/N runs straight into B/N’s open arms.

“That was amazing, buddy!”

You clap your hands, drawing their attention to you.

“Did you see that, Mommy?”

“I did, ace, and it was so good.” You walk over to join them on the grass, “Hey, sweet boy.”

You haven’t seen your son all morning. You lift him off the ground and hug him to your chest, it feels good to hold him so close to you, and for the second time in the last five minutes, you feel you might cry. The three of you make your way over to B/N’s rental SUV parked on the small driveway.

“Mommy, are you feeling cold?”

You briefly glance over to B/N who’s prepping the baby car seat. “A little. Mommy’s not feeling too well.”

“Do you need chicken soup?”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead, “Will you help me make it when we get back?”

He pinky promises you to. You hand him over to B/N who buckles him into the car seat. It’s not his intention, but you can’t help but feel humiliated by S/N’s question. A turtleneck and jeans in the dead of the summer in Charming, California? That’s sure to raise suspicions.

“Baby, do you not think I should stay behind?”

B/N turns in his seat, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Pointing at your turtle neck, you explain, “It’s going to draw attention. It’s summer and I’m dressed for winter.”

“And you care what these people think of you?”

Yes, a lot. It’s your fucking hometown, of course, you care! You want to scream at him, claw at his face, but you’re weak. Pathetic. You can’t even muster the courage to get away from him.

“Sweetheart, no one’s going to be looking at you. Trust me.”

Ouch.

“Don’t ruin this outing by being so self-obsessed.” He starts the car’s engine and backs out of the driveway, “Do you want to listen to some music, buddy?”

Today’s your last day in Charming, B/N’s orders. Later on today, you’ll embark on a five-day road trip back to North Carolina. The idea of being trapped in the car with B/N has you regretting every decision you have made in your life that has led you to this point. Forty fucking hours? The car just isn’t big enough and no amount of eagerness from S/N can change your mind.

“When we get back, I need to see Mabel.”

Mabel’s a friendly neighbor who lives down the street from your mother’s. She moved to Charming a few months before your escape to Charlotte, and since your return, she has been a great help.

“Who’s Mabel?”

“She lives down the road.”

“Why do you need to see her?”

To use her phone to call Jax. “I want to give all my mother’s old furniture to charity. She offered to help me organize it.” It’s a believable lie, “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

After a dragged-out silence, he murmurs a soft ‘okay’ and warns you not to do anything stupid. “I might not be able to stop myself this time around.”

The chilling part is that it’s not an empty threat. You look back at S/N who’s softly singing along to ‘Old MacDonald Had A Farm’, gazing out the car window. Leaving Charming was a decision you made for his sake, to protect him from his father’s world. To give him a shot at a normal childhood, to raise him away from gangs and violence. Instead, you found yourself in the clutches of a wicked man who will one day kill you.

“Mommy, will we see Abel before we leave?”

“No,” B/N responds before you can.

God, you fucking hate him. Your feelings towards him are violent, and you’ve got to come out of the car before you act recklessly.

“Stop the car.” You unbuckle your seatbelt prompting the seatbelt alarm to go off. “Stop the car, B/N, now!”

He pulls into the empty parking space in front of a bridal shop. You frantically open the car door and stumble out of the vehicle, gasping for air. So glad to have distance from the devil you call your boyfriend.

“Toots, what’s wrong?”

You take a step away from him, needing the space. “I need to breathe, B/N.”

That upsets him. “What are you trying to do? Huh? Get in the fucking car so I can drive to the grocery store.”

You pace around in a circle on the sidewalk, contemplating your next move. You can’t run off, B/N could easily catch you and S/N’s still in the car. You can’t leave him, even though you know B/N would never harm him. He loves him too much. Think, think, think! You have a moment of clarity when you look across the street and see who you believe to be Bobby Munson sitting at an ice cream shop. What are the odds?

“Ice cream and candy!” You spin to look at B/N who’s shooting daggers at you. “I want ice cream and we need candy for the road trip, don’t we?”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You walk back to the car to open S/N’s door and start unbuckling him from his car seat. “D’you want ice cream, ace?”

His face lights up. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” he chants.

“Alright. Come on.” You shut the car door, S/N clutched tightly in your arms, “It’s just a small pit stop. Do you want any?”

B/N looks furious but there isn’t much he can do to you out in the open. He’s starting towards you when his work phone starts ringing. He has to take the call and so he tells you to go ahead, he’ll meet you inside the shop. You flash him a smile and make your way to Scoops & Sweets. Now that you’re closer, you’re certain it’s Bobby, and he’s standing behind the counter with his arm in a sling, drinking beer.

“Bobby?”

“Y/N?” His stony expression morphs into a smile, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Bobby.” For the first time in the last 12 hours, you feel safe. “I thought it was you.”

“Who’s the kid?”

“This is S/N,” you look proudly at your son. “Say hello to Bobby, ace?”

Bashful, he waves awkwardly at Bobby before concealing his face in the crook of your neck. You casually look over your shoulder to check if B/N’s still on his call before you turn back to Bobby.

“Bobby, is there a phone I can use? I want to call Jax, there’s something I want to tell him, and my phone’s broken.”

He looks out the window to B/N who’s pacing next to the rental. “Why didn’t you ask your friend to use his phone?”

“He doesn’t like to share.”

Bobby looks back at you. “Jax’s upstairs. Come, I’ll take you up to him. Bring the kid.”

Bobby calls for Chuckie who emerges from what you assume to be the staff break room. When you last saw Chuckie, he had fingers.

“What happened to your fingers?”

“Chinese cut them off,” he holds up his prosthetic hands. “These were a gift from Gemma.”

You regret asking. Bobby orders him to keep watch of the shop and starts leading you towards the flight of stairs.

“Uh Chuckie, a man will come in here looking for me. Could you tell him I went into the bathroom?”

Chuckie nods and you continue on your way with Bobby.

“Is this the new clubhouse?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Bobby leads you and S/N down a short hallway and stops in front of a closed door. He knocks once before he opens it, “Visitor for Jax Teller.”

The men in the room, consisting of Jax, Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Juice, all turn to the door. From their expressions, you’d swear they’ve just seen a ghost. You might as well be a ghost.

Jax raises off his chair and crosses the space to join you at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi, boys. I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting,” suddenly, coming to Jax seems like a bad idea. But B/N. You put S/N on the ground. “I just wanted to see you before we leave this afternoon.”

Jax scowls.

“We’re headed back home to North Carolina. Driving.” You throw your arms around your ex, wincing at the discomfort you feel at the contact. “I’m so glad I could see you again.”

He returns your hug, holding you flush against him and you don’t care that you’re in pain. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that the bottom hem of your sweater’s risen, probably exposing the bruises on your lower back. There’s a pang of pain in your heart when he releases you. The tears blur your vision. God, you hate that you’re so emotional today.

“How are you getting home?”

“B/N arrived last night, he’s waiting for us downstairs.” Probably impatient and suspicious. “We should probably get going.”

Downstairs, B/N’s at the counter listening to Chuckie recount the time he had his fingers cut off by Lin’s men. S/N leaps out of your arms and runs over to B/N.

“Here’s your candy.” Chuckie slides two bags of candy to you, “Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

You smile at him. “Thank you.”

B/N snatches the candy from the counter and the three of you make your way out of the shop. It’s a short trip to the grocery store and luckily for you, there aren’t a lot of people buying groceries whilst you’re there. The tension from earlier has subsided, and the ride back to your mother’s house is a sing-along with S/N leading you. You’re helping B/N unload the bag of groceries from the car when you spot a familiar van at the end of your street.

“When will you go to Mabel’s?”

“After lunch,” you start unpacking the groceries, “I’m sure you boys are hungry.”

“Starving.” He leans over to press a kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll have a beer with my lunch.”

He leaves you in the kitchen to join S/N who’s building Lego in the living room. You’ve just finished laying all the lunch ingredients on the counter when you hear the thunderous roar of a motorcycle outside your house. Shortly after, a knock sounds.

“I’ll get it,” you call from the kitchen.

Unfortunately, B/N beats you to the door. He angrily signals for you to go back into the kitchen.

“Do as you’re fucking told,” he warns through gritted teeth. “Go back to the kitchen.”

You open your mouth to protest but he marches over to you, grabbing your arm harshly, and drags you through the kitchen to the laundry nook.

“You’re hurting me!” you complain, struggling in his firm grip.

The sound of the back of his hand connecting with your cheek bounces off the walls of the small space. You forcefully shove him away from you and try to escape but he hooks a strong arm around your waist and hauls you back into the nook.

“Let go of me!” you claw at his arms and the pain causes him to release you.

“You little bitch!”

He lunges towards you but you’re quicker than him. You grab the first item in your reach which happens to be an iron and whack him on the head with enough force to make him cry out from the pain. You dash past him and run to open the front door at the same time Jax is about to shoot at the door.

His scowl deepens at your disheveled appearance. “Where is he?”

“In the laundry nook. I hit him on the head but he’s still conscious.”

“Where is the kid?”

S/N! You run into the living room, your eyes frantically searching around the space for your little boy. His Legos are strewn on the floor but there’s no sight of him. “S/N?”

“Mommy!”

He’s behind the couch. You find him curled up, his eyes closed and his hands covering his ears.

“My baby.” You scoop him in your arms and carry him towards the front door. “Jax?”

He calls back from the kitchen and tells you to go outside. “Rat’s got the van out front.”

“But Jax–”

“Go!”

You rush out of the house, S/N cradled in your arms. You’ve just stepped onto the patch of grass when you hear grunts coming from the house. Ratboy meets you at the gate and takes S/N from your shaking hands to carry to the van. He helps you into the vehicle before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Gemma’s.”

💀💀💀💀💀

S/N and Abel are asleep in Jax’s old bedroom and you’re sitting at Gemma’s dining table staring blankly into space. If you had been told a week ago that you’d be seeking asylum at Gemma Teller’s home, you wouldn’t have believed it. You replay the last twenty-four hours in your head, you’re somewhat in disbelief of all that’s happened.

Gemma places a gentle hand on your shoulder, drawing you back to reality. “Here you go sweetheart,” she places a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you, “it should help calm your nerves.”

“Thank you.” You place both of your shaking hands on the mug, watching as Gemma takes her place across the table from you. “Have you heard anything from Jax?”

“No,” she reaches for the box of cigarettes on the table. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

You nod, your eyes dropping to the mug. “Did he… did he tell you why he had Ratboy bring me here?”

“Psycho boyfriend,” she takes a pull from the lit cigarette. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

The shame brings fresh tears springing to your eyes. It makes it worse to know that this time around, S/N was awake to hear it all. You feel like you’ve failed him, exposed him to the very thing you vowed to protect him from when you left Charming all those years ago.

“What do I tell S/N?”

“Nothing,” she stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with that right now. You should try get some sleep, you can worry about that tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” You take a small sip of the hot tea and sigh, “This is all my fault.”

“Sweetheart, no.”

“It is and now I’ve gone and gotten Jax involved in this mess.” The frustration is eating at you, “I just–”

You’re cut off by the kitchen door opening. Jax’s back. Thank the heavens! Gemma rushes over to greet him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

Joining you at the table, Jax pulls you into him and tenderly strokes your back. All your fears and concerns are alleviated once you’re in his arms.

“Did he hurt you?”

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with that.”

“I can’t help it,” you laugh through your tears.

“You should get some rest.”

“All my stuff is back at my mom’s.” The thought of returning to the scene of last night’s brutality has you shuddering. You pull away from Jax and roughly dry your tears. “I don’t… I can’t–”

Jax pulls you back into him, holding you tighter than before, and gently rocks you. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

Guilt. You feel a tremendous amount of guilt. Is he dead? Possibly, and your guilt deepens when you recognize a small part of you overjoyed by the possibility. He deserves it. How could you even think that? No one deserves to die — not even B/N.

“How are you going to get rid of the body?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, instead, he tells you that he’ll get Rat to bring yours and S/N’s bags to Gemma’s.

“Jax, don’t leave,” you plead, the surge of panic hits you like a freight train and has you fisting the hem of his shirt. “Stay.”

He presses a kiss to your covered shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FIVE

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97 @few-proud-emotonal @zozebo @lovinnholland @adaydreamaway08

[hispipsqueak]

Just One Time

Asahi x F!Reader - NSFW

TW: Angsty, cheating, scumbag reader, manipulation, pregnancy trapping, unprotected sex, sugar daddy Asahi, age gap (reader in mid twenties tho not specified) Asahi in 50′s, unprotected sex, daddy kink

WC: 2.5K

Summary: Asahi’s in a bad marriage and you are there to liven it up...or are you?

A/N: I woke up today and chose violence I guess. @cozykozume and @hiskittyyywrites​ read this and yelled at me so if you want to yell, I feel that. This started off as a sugar daddy Asahi fic but....we got this instead. Also I really want to hug Asahi. I apologize in advance.

All characters are 18+

It was only supposed to be one time.

Fuck.

It wasn’t even supposed to be one time.

Asahi wasn’t sure how the hell he ended up like this. You were hired to work on his show, doing makeup for the models. His job in the fashion industry put him around beautiful men and women every day, dressing them and posing them. Hell, he saw them naked and yet you, just you sitting there sipping on the glass of champagne at the after party for yet another successful campaign launch had his stomach in knots.

You smirked into your glass as you saw the older designer not so subtly watching you from across the room. Standing up you walked over to the tall man and placed a hand on his chest.

“Great show Mr. Azumane.” You smiled at him. You could feel him tense under his button up shirt.

“Uh, oh you can just call me Asahi. Y-yeah, you did an excellent job on their makeup as well. Your name is Y/N right?” 

You laughed, “Oh it’s so sweet you remembered. Most designers never pay attention to the crew...though you are certainly not like most designers.” With this, you slid your hand down his chest. “You’re so built for a fashion designer too.”

Asahi’s face reddened, and he choked on his drink.

“Uh, I uh, used to play volleyball a lot...and work out and stuff...sort of.” He stammered out and you let out another flirty giggle. 

“Clearly. You look amazing. Is there anything you can’t do?” 

Asahi was hyper aware of your hand on his chest roaming toward his bicep. Your nails grazed his skin. You gazed into his eyes and winked, before finishing your drink and putting the empty glass on the shelf behind him.

“Well...I guess I’m going to head out. Would you walk me out? I’m a little tipsy.”

The next thing you knew, you and Asahi were in the bathroom, his mouth on your neck. Your dress was tugged down below your chest and his fingers made quick work of your bra, throwing it across the room. He groped your tits, pinching and tugging at your nipples. You moaned out and he clapped his hand over your mouth.

“Shh...we can’t get caught.” His dark eyes stared into yours and yours widened.

“Of course.”

 Your eyes fell to the silver band on his left hand and your heart raced. Yes of course sleeping with an older married man was probably going to send you to hell, but fuck...it was hot.

You could see him becoming unsure, so you slid your hands to his belt, undoing it before dropping to your knees. You gazed up at him, doe-eyed and Asahi’s resolve crumbled, as he nodded. Your fingers grazed his boxer-clad member.

“Fuck, you’re so big. Can’t wait to taste you.” You whispered, pressing a kiss against his lower abs.

Asahi groaned out as you pulled out his cock, stroking him. Your other hand cupped his balls and he bit his lip to stifle his moan. Slipping him into your mouth, you swirled your tongue around the tip, keeping your eyes locked on his.

“Fuck that f-feels incredible.” Asahi’s panted out. He placed his hands above your head, nervous to put any pressure on you. You grinned.

“You can touch me. Let me take care of you daddy.” 

You took him further down your throat, and his hands fell to your hair as you bobbed up and down his cock. You moaned around him, the vibrations causing him to grip your hair tightly.

“F-fuck Y/N. You feel amazing. You’re so good.” Asahi muttered, his eyes closed. It had been so long, too fucking long since someone had worshipped him like this. Your mouth was divine and your moans caused his whole body to tremble. He could feel your throat clench around his cock, as you took him impossibly deeper and he looked down at you. Your eyes were glassy, your lipstick was smudged and you looked so incredibly lewd as you swallowed around his cock.

“Want to make you feel good. Let me have you.” Asahi grunted, pulling you up and bending you over the sink. You met his eyes in the mirror as he lined himself up with your entrance, before digging around in his slacks.

“Shit, condom. What…” He started. You giggled. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes. You arched your back more and looked up at him.

“Please, daddy?”

Fuck it. Asahi sunk into you and you pressed your hand over your mouth. The stretch burned, and you felt like you were being split in half on his cock. He towered over you as he continued pushing his length into you and finally stilled to a stop.

“You okay?” He asked, seeing your body quivering in the mirror. You grinded your hips slowly as a response, stretching yourself on him. As you moved, the pain subsided until all you felt was pleasure. Seeing you work yourself on his cock had Asahi feral. His hands kneaded your ass and hips, feeling how your body begged for him and craved his touch,

“God, beautiful. You take me so well. You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered out, slowly pumping himself into you. He looked in the mirror as he fucked you, watched as your lips parted to spill moans that sounded like heaven to his ears. He could see your tits bounce with every thrust and it spurred him on even more. He knew it was wrong, knew he shouldn’t be fucking a girl twenty years younger than him in a bathroom at his party but when you looked up at him in the mirror, your eyeliner running down your cheeks and begged for daddy to fuck you harder, well he could only thrust into you faster and harder.

The sound of slapping skin filled the small room, only broken up by soft pants from both of you in an attempt to keep quiet, though you were failing. You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and felt yourself slamming towards your peak as well.

“I’m so close, so close angel.” Asahi mumbled, his hand clutching the counter so tightly you were sure it would break.

“Cum inside me, fill me up. Fuck fuck FUCK!”, you moaned out as your cunt clenched around his cock. His hips stuttered and you felt him shoot his load deep inside your hole. You could feel his cock throbbing as it filled you, and he could feel the fluttering of your pussy as it sucked every drop out of him.

The two of you collapsed in a heap on the counter, and as you cleaned yourself up, you placed a quick kiss on his cheek before sneaking out of the room. Asahi ran some cold water, splashed his face, and tried to bury the memory of this occurrence.

It was just supposed to be one time.

But when he got home to a dark house, he couldn’t help but be consumed by thoughts of you. He quietly slipped into his bedroom, praying his wife wouldn’t suspect a thing. He undressed, slipping into bed.

“Sorry I’m so late, the party ran pretty…”

“Can you just hush? I’m trying to sleep and you have to be so loud.” his wife snapped, turning her back to him.

Asahi mumbled a soft apology, and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Asahi, seriously I’m not in the fucking mood, can you just go to bed?” She shrugged him off. He turned to stare at the ceiling.

It was just one time...right?

Days passed and he tried to push past the guilt he felt by going out of his way for his wife. He set up a reservation for a fancy dinner at an exclusive restaurant in the city, The owner had a daughter who was apparently a big fan of Asahi’s designs so he was able to pull some strings and get a table. 

“Hey honey, I got us reservations for dinner tonight. You can wear that pretty red dress I like.” He smiled at her. She didn’t look up from her phone.

“I hate that dress. Why are we even going out? That place is ridiculously expensive.” 

Asahi felt his face get hot.

“W-well okay, what would you like to do tonight?”

Still fiddling with her phone, she shrugged.

“Why do we have to do anything? We aren’t young people. God, you don’t get enough partying with your little fashion stuff?” 

Asahi looked down at the floor.

“The place was pretty hard to get in. We really should go.” He stammered out, hoping she would change her mind.

She yawned. “Can’t you just take someone from work or something?”

-----

That was how one time turned to two.

Asahi couldn’t help it. You were so...fun. You hung onto his every word, asking him questions and laughing at his jokes. Your hands were always on him, his thighs, his arms, his chest. You looked at him like he hung the moon.

In turn, he loved spoiling you, lavishing you with high fashion pieces, unreleased from his collection. His guilt for not spending all his time with you led to him making up for it in material goods, which you definitely didn’t mind.

And the sex. God the sex.

You worshipped his cock, begged for him to ruin you. You were adventurous, letting him take control of you, teasing him in public, your fingers grazing his cock through his slacks, shooting him flirty looks as he blushed furiously.

Two times turned into five times, which soon led to a full blown affair. Asahi “worked late” so often, he was sure he’d be caught, but his house was always dark when he came home, his wife in bed asleep.

Yet, his phone had pictures of you, pictures you had taken in his clothes, in the lingerie he bought you that cost more than some people’s entire outfits.

His body still thought about you, the faces you made as you pleaded for his cock. He could imagine the chanting of “daddy” that fell from your lips as he fucked you brainless. Many nights, like tonight, he headed to his shower just to jack off to pictures and videos of your escapades. Your breathy moans filled his ear buds as he gripped the wall, imagining your writhing body underneath him, your warm cunt clamping down on his cock instead of his hand.

He came with a groan, cum splattering on the tile wall. Breathing hard, he turned the hot water on full blast.

Coming down, he watched the water wash his mess down the drain. He hated this feeling, the aftermath of his actions. Knowing his wife was asleep in the next room while he was getting off to his side piece. What kind of man was he? Yes, things had been not so great with his wife recently. But he still loved her...right?

Even if he didn’t want to answer that question and unpack that whole mess, she deserved respect. Not a husband who snuck around behind her back. He had to decide.

His eyes cast themselves down to his wedding band. It felt heavy on his hand.

He had to end things with you.

----

“Y/N, we need to talk.” Asahi’s voice shook, as he sipped his glass of water. The two of you were at his studio, a place he knew his wife would never be at. He hadn’t wanted to be in public when he broke the news to you so he invited you over, though now he was a little nervous to be alone with you.

“Asahi, I feel the same way.” You looked at him, biting your lip.

He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. This was fun but I feel terrible and I really need to work things out with my wife…”

Your eyes narrowed.

“What are you talking about?” There was an edge to your voice, something he hadn’t heard coming from you.

Asahi’s dark eyes widened. “U-uh, this affair? We need to end it. Isn’t that what you meant?” His voice stammered as he watched your arms cross over yourself.

“Asahi, I’m pregnant.”

The room started spinning. The overhead lighting became harsh and he felt like he was underwater as those words repeated in his brain.

Pregnant....pregnant...pregnant

“Wh- what?! What about the pill?” He practically yelped, his face heating up. 

“It didn’t work I guess. I’m carrying your baby...and you’re trying to leave me?” You asked, your voice rising as you stood up. 

“I’m not trying to, I mean, I’m, I…” Asahi fumbled his words.

“You just said you want to work things out with ‘your wife’.” You spat the words out in disgust.

“I didn’t know you were pregnant! Are you...are we…?” He trailed off, looking at your stomach, which obviously had no visible changes and yet had visibly changed everything.

“Are you asking me if I’m keeping our baby?” Your eyes widened and Asahi could feel your anger seeping through the air. He quickly shook his head, desperately trying to diffuse the situation.

“No, no I’m n– I just meant...what should I do?” Asahi’s mouth went dry. His body felt like it was going to explode and he wanted the earth to swallow him, anything to get him out of this situation.

“You’re going to help me raise our child, Asahi. It’s our baby.” Your voice was cold. No longer the carefree, fun person he knew but instead a disconnected stranger, who he was now tied to forever.

Asahi put his head in his hands. He was ruined. His marriage was over. And now he was a father, at the ripe old age of 50 to a 20-something year old’s baby. This couldn’t be happening.

He felt your hands touch his shoulder and he looked up at you. Your eyes glittered with a look he couldn’t identify. 

“We have some announcements to make, don’t we daddy?” You smiled at him. He stared into space, before taking your hand and following you out the door.

Your heart soared as you prepared on how to tell his wife that she’d be moving out. Maybe you weren’t pregnant yet, but he didn’t have to know that. It’s not like you wouldn’t be soon enough.

After all, it was never just one time. 

[creepling]

am i not enough? (quackity x reader) - apocalypse!AU

( 。・_・。)人(。・_・。 ) | part of the @quackisinnit 1k event !

THE PROMPT IS . . . “ AM I NOT ENOUGH ? “

pairing: irl!quackity x genderneutral!reader (apocalypse!AU)

word count: 3,306

summary: the reader and alex become a duo while coming across each others paths during a zombie apocalypse. tensions rise as they set up camp in a warehouse, where alex begins to confess how he feels towards the reader. (angst into fluff <33)

tw: zombie apocalypse, blood (ment), cursing, guns, death, eating.

It had been three months since the fallen of mundane life. Three months of complete abnormality, everything known to be in existence that was worth caring about; completely gone. jobs, currency, education were becoming a historic relic. The world was put back to zero. Instead of cavemen and dinosaurs, the new species of flesh-eating corpse’s roamed in packs and seeked for fresh meat. They may have been slow, but they travelled in numbers and they could smell you from a mile away. I learned that your scent became less of a problem when you didn’t keep hygenic. My stence blended with the earth and blood and the roamers didn’t catch us out as much; so we used that to our advantage.

I only had one companion, his name was Alex. He was absolutely dumbfounded when I discovered him. I raided his abandoned home looking for supplies, and when I had to kill a roamer that vacaded in his bedroom; I found him curled up in a ball under his bed. He told me that he had been hiding the whole month when he realised help was to never come; so his only plan was to hide out until he ran out of supplies. That became a problem when I attempted to take them. We made the mutual agreement that if I was to take the supplies, he would come with me. I refused to stay and hide; that is how you get yourself killed. Thankfully he agreed to come with me, and we have been inseperable ever since. However, our bond is nothing close to a friendship, we just had to stick together to survive.

Alex’s main idea was to find a group, hoping by now someone had turned one of the surbubans into a mini civilization. We had travelled between three cities however and we found no sign of good company. As a duo, we have only killed one human within these three months. A man who tried to kill us at gunpoint in hopes of taking our things, to which we scarsely saved our lives by ducking behind a bar table. With one aimless shoot, I shot my gun and it pierced through the man’s chest. I saved our lives, but the sight of the man’s lifeless eyes still haunts me in my sleep. 

One night, Alex found a two-store warehouse to shelter in while on a supply run. He suggested we camp on the second floor and catch up on our sleep and starvation, since we eventually got ahold of sleeping bags and tinned food. I agreed, but reminded him the stay can’t be perminant. He agreed also, still fixated on the idea of finding a commune.

While I made a fire and cooked food, I obvserved Alex drawing in a notepad. I failed to make out what he was doing so I asked, “What are you drawing?”

“I’m trying to draw a map.” He said to me, “It’s not accurate, but it will give us a rough idea of the roads until we find a map.”

“I didn’t take you as a smart person.” I said, hoping he didn’t think I meant it seriously. It was rare for me to joke in times like these, but when I did, my humour came off dry. Thankfully, my comment made Alex scoff out a chuckle.

“And I didn’t take you for a fighter.” Alex said. Since being with each other for two months, we both naturally adopted different roles that benefitted us. Alex was the navigator, the finder; he seemed to have a good sense of direction and I relied on him to not get lost. He also had a good eye and was always good at finding things such as second-way exits or food hiding in obscure places. For me, my job was a lot more physical. I was a good shoot, I knew how to make a fireplace, or bandage a wound. When things got dirty, I would get lucky and save our asses.

“Your food’s ready.” I said, handing him his warm can of chicken soup and a packet of chips. He thanked me, putting his notebook down and sitting cross-legged beside me. As we ate we sat in silence, the only sounds in the warehouse being our mouths chewing the food. We hadn’t ate in nearly a week. I tried my best to chew my chips before swallowing so I didn’t end up with stomache pain, but the instant flavour shot through my tongue and I instinctly ate them quickly. Alex finished his food within minutes, licking the chip packet and his fingers; scraping every last bit of soup from the can and into his mouth. I reluctantly did the same, feeling a little embarrassed; I have never felt so starved in my life. 

“That was fucking amazing.” Alex sighed out, now heating his hands over the fire. I nodded in agreement, collecting the empty tin cans and keeping them next to our things. They will be handy for traps, tying them with strings and hanging them in the woods while hunting would let us know of intruders. It was the small things like that that has made us survive this long.

“Are you gonna go to sleep now? I could keep watch.” I offered, observing Alex’s bloodshot eyes. If we had mirrors, we would flinch at our reflections. Alex looked rough. He always wore his beanie, which he apparently did even before things got bad. He always had a collective spot of dirt on his nose and cheekbones no matter how clean we were, it’s where it always collected the most. His hands were the most dirty, dirt under his short nails and inbetween his fingers. From the rare occasions we touched hands, I felt the softness of his hands, compared to mine that felt aged and rough. His knuckles were stained with blood. Out of both of us, I was covered in the most blood. When I looked down, my hands had a reddish tint, observing more I could see small cuts on my hands from being idle with my knife when striking roamer’s heads. Without having to see, I knew I had sprays of blood on my face from the amount of times I killed roamers. To think when life was normal we cared so much about our appearence, but now activities like doing makeup, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth seemed so pointless. We were slowly becoming used to primitive life and deep down that scared me. I think it scared Alex too.

“I’m tired as fuck, but I know I won’t sleep.” Alex said in a low tone, looking at his hands full of shame. I nodded my head in understanding, knowing exactly how he was feeling. We hadn’t slept properly in months, instead when one person kept watch, the other just lay down with their eyes closed. We forgot what it was like to dream, or to feel hazy. We were constantly alert.

“Since we have no intention of sleeping. Why don’t we play a game?” Alex said. I cocked my eyebrow up in question. What game could we play that didn’t involve making noise and attracting attention?

“We ask each other 20 questions. Normally if you don’t want to answer a question- you would have to do a dare. But hey, wants the point in hiding nowadays?” Alex said, looking at me contently.

“We should be hiding ourselves more than ever, I think.” I said, adding fuel to the fire to keep it burning. “That way no one knows our weaknesses.”

“So you don’t trust me?” Alex said. His question threw me off. It’s not that I didn’t trust him, but maybe I was unwilling to get to know him. I had already lost the people close to me, and I was still in grieving. I was too afraid to get close with Alex. I always had the thought in the back of my head that one day, I might end up losing him. His intelligence may only get him so far.

“I understand.” Alex said, taking back his question. Seeing the hurt in my eyes, he must have realized what I was thinking. He lost his close ones too. We both lost so much, we had a mutual understanding about that. Yet, I looked at Alex, and he still felt like a mystery to me. He always pulled out jokes, even in times like these. However, in moments when he thought I wasn’t looking, I could see the pain concealed in his face. Sometimes I even heard him cry at night when he thought I was sleeping. Maybe it was about time we opened up to each other, instead of feeling like we need to suffer alone. We could be there for each other not just physically, but emotionally.

“Okay then, since it was your idea, you ask the first question.” I said, hugging my legs to my chest. Alex smiled a little at me, going into thought as he tried to think of a question.

“So, what did you do when life was normal?” He asked first.

I let out a sigh then replied, “I had a very normal life. Lived with my family, did average in school, worked a job to get money. I actually had plans of moving out to the city, I always wanted to go to LA. I never really had aspirations, just wanted to be content.” It sounded boring, but I was happy with my life. I had my ups and downs like everyone else. “What were you like?”

Alex smirked and looked away from me, seeming to become bashful. “I was a twitch streamer.” He said. “And had a Youtube channel. God- it sounds so stupid now that I say it. Like it was all pointless-”

“Were you like- famous?” I asked, trying to conceal a smile.

“Um- I guess you could say that. I had millions of followers.” Alex shook his head, “But I also went to college. I was studying law. I was always staying up late, barely sleeping; both studying and streaming all the time. It took up my whole life, that I just kinda forgot about everything else.”

“Well, you were obviously not famous, because I didn’t know who you were.” I jokingly said, nudging his side. That seemed to make him smile and feel less embarassed.

“So how the hell did you learn how to shoot if you lived such a normal life?” He asked.

“I just learned while doing it. My dad kept a gun.” I admitted, looking at the very same gun I had in the holster wrapped around my thigh. “He would teach me now and then how to use it, but I was never a shooter. The more roamers I shot, the more I got used to it.” Thinking about someone close to me made me chew the inside of my cheek anxiously.

To deflate my melancholy, I asked the next question. “Did you always wear that stupid hat?”

Alex chuckled and rubbed the top of his hat. “Yeah, twenty-four seven. I don’t why, I just find it comfortable. My “fans” would joke that I was bald because I never showed my hair.” He said, “God- saying the word fans sounds fucked up . . .”

“Maybe you’ll bump into one of them.” I said, “Heck- maybe there’s a commune right now dedicated to you, trying to find you and keep you safe.”

Alex laughed again, covering his face with his hands. I laughed alongside him, the first time I genuinely laughed in a good few weeks. Looking at Alex, seeing how I uplifted him, it struck a chord with me. As much as I didn’t like to show it, but he made affects on me that were indescribable. He made me feel just a little more contempt, without him I would probably not be able to cope for this long. We eventually locked eyes with each other, Alex’s gaze being longer than I expected. If it wasn’t for the blood, my face would have exposed the blush forming on my cheeks.

“Have you ever fell in love, (Y/N)?” Alex then asked me, which set me aback. The question was out the blew and I think Alex realised that as he looked away shyly, his gaze fixated on the flames of the fire to avoid my gaze. I still stared at him, almost in amazment, trying to conjuct a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know.” I answered. “I have loved people, yes, but- I don’t think I have been in love. You’re suppose to know when things like that happen, right?”

Alex didn’t answer me, he kept staring at the fire. I found myself admiring his side profile, watching how he slowly bit his lip; concealed in thought. I noticed how the glow of the flames contrasted with the darkness of his eyes, how the light outlined his complexion. When I realized I was staring for too long, I looked away, instead my eyes looked out the warehouse window, my eyes tracing the stars in the night sky. 

“I feel like I have known you forever.” Alex admitted all at once. “It’s only been two months, but I have gotten close to you more than anyone I have in my whole life. It might sound crazy but- I believe we were suppose to come together that day.”

My gaze turned back to Alex when I felt his eyes lay upon me. His stare was soft, something I only seen in passing times. I was able to admire him for the first time since we met. In this moment, in the dead of night, away from danger and suspicion; I could look at him with full sentiment. I didn’t need to admire him when he was less suspecting it, afraid of receiving decline or making things awkward. In this moment I realized, I may have developed feelings more than companionship towards him. That excited me. But also terrified me.

“I feel that way with you, Alex.” I admitted, “But . . .”

I decided to choose my words carefully. This conversation was heading in a direction that made me nervous. The world is falling apart around us, and I couldn’t help but question our motives. We should be focusing on survival, not developing a relationship that could be destroyed at any second. Once we step out this warehouse, our chances of losing our lives become high. I wasn’t prepared to damage my mental state, it was already bad enough. I realized my long pause was making Alex shift nervously, so I looked at him in hopes my words would slip from my mouth.

I caved in, muttering lowly, “We should get some rest.” I got up on my feet and was ready to grab my sleeping bag and make up a place to rest, until I heard Alex get his his feet and say words that made my heart sink.

“Am I not enough?”

When I turned to look at him, the hurt was glistening in his eyes. He gulped dryly and he fumbled with his fingers. My eyes shifted from side to side as I was stuck with my words. I kept stammering, and I rubbed my face in stress, ready to plead my case. Until Alex jumped in.

“Don’t think I’m only saying these things to you because there is no one else, (Y/N). I have been thinking about this for a while, everytime I am left with my thoughts. I am certain I will still have the same feelings if we met when things didn’t go to shit. I don’t just think this because we have been the only people for each other. I really really like you, (Y/N). And because of the way the world is, I never want to lose you. I never want you to feel alone ever again. I not only want to protect you because we’re a team, I want to protect you because the thought of losing you pains me so much.”

For a split second I thought Alex was about to burst into tears. That was when I did something I thought I would never do again, which was pull him into my embrace. I hugged Alex so tight that I heard him gasp, freeze, until he eventually wrapped his arms around me and held me just as tight. My face buried into the crook of his neck, feeling the warmth of his body, his soft hands caressing my back and brushing his thumb down my spine in a soothing manner.

“You are enough, Alex.” I said, my words muffled by his body. I reached my lips to his ear so he could hear my words clearly. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to like me, or be forced to like me just because we were brought together. I was afraid you thought you were stuck with me.”

I anticipated the day that once we meet other life, Alex would slowly fade away and forget who I was. Once he meets other people, we would go our seperate ways. I never knew why the hypothetical idea pained me so much, until now. As Alex pulled away from my embrace, looking me in the eyes in a loving manner that was foreign to me, his hands on my shoulders, I realized why that idea made my heart feel heavy. I never want him to leave me, I want him to always be by my side. Alex’s gaze was enough proof that he wanted the same.

Stimulated by his touch, I was taken aback when I felt his hand cup my cheek. The warmth of his breath breezing against my cheek, I inhaled as if oxygene was nonexistent. I never realized the proximity between us was slowly closing in and when I did my eyes fluttered shut. Alex hesitated for a split second before pressing his soft lips against my own. My neck bent slightly backwards and I shifted my head to the side to deepen into our kiss, my blood-stained hands grabbing the edges of his open jacket and holding him dearly close. The heat of the kiss intermingled with the heat from the fire, my cheeks and ears grew hot. Alex’s hands were surprisingly warm as he reached his hands under my shirt, pressing his fingers and palms on the middle of my back before running his touch down my spine. My breath became shaky and I felt my legs grow heavy under me, my hands cupped the back of his neck to keep myself uplifted, and luckily Alex’s arms held my weight and pressed my body against his. It felt like hours had went by between our lips moving in sync, our tongues grazing our bottom lip’s, our hands moving and resting on different parts of our bodies. His touch felt contagious, his kisses ranging between soft and passionate. I didn’t want to stop, I never wanted to let go. Between kisses I would mutter you are enough, you are enough which made Alex smile against my lips.

That night, everything we had to worry about became last priority. The focus all throughout was each other, making up for the days where affection couldn’t be shown. In the dead of night, there wasn’t a roamer in sight. Instead of hearing narls and groans or screams of pain, there was only the faint sounds of nature. The full moon glistened, as if to be a prediction for the emotions spilling between us. I promised myself from this moment on, as I admired Alex, I would protect him no matter what. I will make sure he always feels safe as long as he is beside me. He will always be enough, if not more.

TAGLIST: @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069​ (join my taglist)

[dancingazaleas]

𖨆. 06 / all for us

summary: you wake up in your room, and you can’t help but try again. even if you might meet a strange doctor and their assistant.

note: another dark chapter. please read the warnings.

taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @stupid-stinky @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume

word count: +2.5k

warnings/notes: cursing, mentions of self harm, mentions of suicide attempt, blood, suicidal thoughts, panic attack, suicide attempt, medical inaccuracies, a little graphic detail of glass being pulled from skin

YOU'RE disappointed whenever you awaken from your temporary slumber. you were sure that you were close to death with that blade on your vein, but it turns out you were wrong. well, that's what you think until you look at your arm.

each one of the cuts is stitched up neatly while the bandages trying to wrap around them are loose. you sit up while inspecting some of the bloodied bandages on your hand, must've been from whenever you broke the mirror.

you sigh sleepily, staring at the bedroom door in hopes that someone will come entertain you even just for a moment. luckily, your wish is granted whenever you watch erwin slip into the door silently.

he's trying to be silent, that much is obvious by how he's not wearing any shoes and instead socks along with him shutting the door gently. he turns to you, flinching at how your eyes bore into his head even as you lay down.

"you're awake it seems," he smiles and sits on the edge of the bed, large hand caressing your pale cheeks.

you start to sit up only to be fussed at by erwin, who softly shoves you back against the bed.

"how am i still alive," you stare into the ceiling.

"when you passed out, we managed to get ahold of our friend that's a doctor," of fucking course. of course they'd have a doctor friend, how the fuck else would they get roofies?!

"when can i get out of bed," you lay your hands on the collar around your neck.

"tomorrow, we didn't expect you to wake up today."

"how long have i been dead for?"

"an incorrect term to describe you, however you've been out for a day. our friend told us with your mental struggles it might take longer for you to wake up," he sighs and rolls his head while a gentle smile forms on his face.

"can you turn on a show for me? don't care what," you look to the ceiling fan.

"of course," erwin says in slight concern. he'd expected you to, at the least, shed some tears, whether it be from happiness or sadness. but you weren't reacting at all.

"you know.... when i was younger people didn't like me," you sigh, "but i was okay with it. as long as i didn't get hurt, i didn't care all that much."

"why are you telling me this?"

ignoring him, you let out a small and bitter chuckle, "when i got into high school, i made friends with a boy who had a twin brother. his name was marcel, he was so sweet and kind.

"he's dead now. it tore his brother apart, i'd never seen porco in that much pain before."

mistakenly, erwin ponders, "how did he pass?"

it's the first time you turn your head to stare at him with those dead fish eyes of your's. you looked almost sinister as you burned holes into erwin's head.

"suicide."

erwin left your room with stiff shoulders that night.

————

two days later, you're standing to look at yourself in the bathroom mirror. you're surprised they didn't take the glass away from you, but you're sure it's for brushing your teeth or something.

as you stare at yourself, you allow your shoulders to shake as they hold up your arms leaning on the sink.

you wonder what your friends would say at seeing you like this. so desperate to get out that you're willing throw away everything you have just to get it.

there's an itch at the back of your mind, festering up against the walls over your brain.

'they'd think you look pathetic,' the itch, now a voice, whispers.

"porco wouldn't," you whimper. porco's been through this process before, he gets it, he understands. right?

'marcel died by his own hands in order to cleanse himself from his sadness. he'd look down upon you for comparing this to his case,' you squeeze your eyes shut and put your hands over your ears.

"pieck wouldn't. she's by my side forever," you sob.

'pieck fought with you before your disappearance. she called you a fuck-up. look at yourself, you'll find that she's right,' and with bated breath you look up.

you sob, shooting your arm back that's clenched into a fist. you punch the glass, which flies all onto your arm and hand. you storm out of your bathroom in fear, stumbling as you look at the stool used for your vanity.

you take it hastily, setting it up the ceiling fan and standing on it. with rushed movements, you wrap the chain connecting with the metal collar around the base of the fan. you step off of the stool, kicking it away with your foot while you choke.

you're starting to black out when you see levi run in with erwin, and you pray to the heavens that you'll wake up in hell.

————

once again, you're disappointed. you whimper weakly while crying, you just wanted to die. you don't want to be trapped in here anymore, you just want to escape.

your throat burns. and before you can try to test your voice, someone's unlocking the door while letting out an almost wicked laugh.

the door swings open to reveal a person, who's long brown hair is pulled into a messy ponytail and wearing circled glasses on their face along with an eyepatch. behind them follows a much meeker man, one that's reprimanding their actions as they shout loudly in excitement at the realization that you're awake.

"moblit!! she's already awake," the person hoots to the man behind them, who you're going to assume is moblit.

"i can see that hanji! now, quiet down! you're probably scaring her," moblit scolds the person named hanji, who ignores the warnings.

"hello, my darling~! i'm your doctor, hanji zoë but feel free to call me hanji! do you have any recollection of what happened," they sing excitedly, shoving their face close to you.

you nod nervously, who the fuck was this person.

"i apologize for their behavior, they act almost as a dog," moblit emphasizes while pulling hanji away by their shoulder.

"we came to see if you sustained anymore damage onto your body besides your neck," he looks you over.

you hold up your hand, smeared with your dry blood. hanji gently takes it into their hands, frowning deeply at what they see.

"get my tweezers for me, moblit. she's still got some tiny pieces of glass in the wounds. i'm sure that's why you were hurting so bad before we came in, huh," hanji attaches a magnifying glass to their glasses while slipping on medical gloves. you'd just woken up, but you weren't gonna tell them that.

moblit hands them a tray along with tweezers, not to mention hydrogen peroxide.

"tisk tisk! that shorty and eyebrows really don't know how to put hydrogen peroxide in! losers," they cackle at the end, which has moblit slapping a hand down onto their shoulder.

"alright alright!" they smack it away, taking your hand—palm faced down—gently while adjusting their magnifying glass.

you scream as they start to pull out a piece of glass, not exactly expecting them to be either big or long. you sit up on your elbow to look, you don't exactly trust this person.

your scream has levi and erwin bursting in the door just as hanji pulls out a smaller piece of glass, that they had to dig a bit for and it made you cry.

"what'd you do?! what are you doing?!" levi bombards while erwin rushes to your side.

"well, i'm trying to concentrate on getting some of this glass out of her skin. unless you want it to get infected, i'm going to continue. it just hurts," hanji says in frustration, bringing your hand closer to their face.

"oh, thank god," erwin sighs in relief but immediately jumps at the sound of your teary shout.

"it's okay, you'll be okay," he reassures, wiping a tear away with his thumb.

bursting with slight anger and immense pain, you snap at him, "don't you think i know that?! it just hurts!!"

both erwin and levi look shocked at your outburst just as you hiss in pain again.

sighing, hanji looks at you, "okay, i saved this one for last since it'll be the most painful to get out."

"just get it over with," you sob, squeezing your free and bandaged hand into a fist.

you knew it was going to hurt, they'd just told you. however, you didn't realize that somehow a piece of glass managed to get stuck in the wound with one side of it being lunged under unharmed skin. it was like trying to get out one paper out of a stack.

you scream again, letting yourself fall onto your back again and swinging your arm over your eyes. biting your lip, you breathe heavy with shaky sobs.

"this is worse than giving birth," you cry.

"it's definitely comparable," hanji humors you while they poke at the glass.

it makes you chuckle a little, considering they're the one putting you through this.

whenever they pull the piece of glass out, it feels like an immense weight has been taken off you as you relax your body. you hiss at the hydrogen peroxide, but it's much better than the pulling of the glass. you reach up to your collar, only to realize that they've detached the chain connecting to it.

you're frustrated, even more so whenever hanji pulls away from you and acts like this is a totally normal occurrence. you're kidnapped for god's sake, shouldn't they be calling the police?

you let your eyes wander around the room, and when they set on levi, you tense. you scoot away from erwin, since he's on the same side of the bed as him, and place yourself at the edge of the bed.

"alright, we need to talk to you about some things," erwin brushes some of your hair behind your ear, completely ignoring your fear of levi.

"first things first, you can't be trusted alone," levi grunts and leans against the wall with his arms crossed.

"which means, you'll be spending time with levi during the day until i get home or if i request to see you," erwin cautiously and slowly says.

your eyes widen while they shoot between levi and erwin, absolute fear swarming your body.

"i only hit you whenever you disobey," he scoffs, "i believe pain is the best way to teach someone a lesson."

"he won't hurt you unless you give him a reason to," erwin tells you reassuringly. it doesn't work well.

"please, don't hurt me. i'll be good, just don't hurt me," you croak while looking to levi, who softens a bit at the statement.

"don't worry then," he nods, "now go back to sleep. i'm sure you're tired after all that screaming. you'll be with me at eight in the morning."

you nod, shakily grabbing ahold of the remote on your bed and turning your tv on. levi slips out of the room without a word while erwin stays back.

"good night, my love. get some rest," he whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

you hum in response, scrolling through the selection of movies on the netflix account levi and erwin provided for you. you choose a rom-com movie, seeing as you don't actually plan on staying up just to watch it.

you turn onto your side and close your eyes.

and for the first time, you rest easy.

the next morning, levi leads you through the home by hooking his pinky with your's. you were slightly thankful at the gesture. he knew that you were nowhere ready to be fully touched by him and that you weren't allowed to leave his side.

you sit on the love seat in his office, shyly taking the tv remote from his hands when he offers.

"watch anything, just don't turn it up too loud," he sits at his chair with a sigh as you scroll through movies on hulu.

you choose the movie footloose while you get comfortable on the couch. you try to ignore the small shivers running up and down your body as you're not covered up with a blanket.

you glance over to one of the bookshelves levi has up against the wall, trying to find if levi had any good reads. but before you could read the titles printed on the spines, a certain book that poked out from behind the others caught your eye.

'memories' the fraying writing was a messy cursive on the spine, something you assume levi wrote.

you get yourself lost in thought while staring at the bookshelf. if the book was in levi's office and in levi's handwriting, that means it has to be a scrapbook. and that it's levi's.

your eyes shine at the realization, but you try not to let it show. you'll wait for levi to get the two of you lunch before you'll look at it.

and so, you wait with patience. it seems so grueling as the time passes and you switch from movie to movie, but you hope it'll be worth it in the end. you hope that it explains why levi is the way he is.

"i'm going to make our lunch. the door's lock behind me since it's a keypad. stay put," levi says with slight annoyance, walking out of the room grumpily.

at the sound of the door locking, you jump to your feet and race to the bookshelf. you carefully pull the book out of its place, immediately flipping it open to the first page.

and there levi was, in all of his glory. levi was a baby in the photo, closed eyes and a peaceful look on his face as he curled into himself.

turning the page, you almost gasp at the image you see. levi's being fed by a gorgeous woman, who you can only assume is his mother. the next picture on the page shows levi wearing raggedy clothes with greasy hair shining in the sun as he crouched to hold stare disgustedly at a bug on his finger.

it made you giggle, but the next photo made you frown. levi, who looked to be at the age of five, was standing next to an older man with a casket behind them. you look at the note written under it.

'mom's funeral,' it reads, and you feel an immense amount of pity.

the next picture is a picture of levi at the age of seven standing in front of a beat up school with dirty and ripped clothing. his hair is long enough to be a mullet in this and his body looks so frail compared to now. levi's face shows not a hint of emotion, instead his eyes stare right through the camera and back at your's.

you jump whenever a book on the shelf falls onto its side. you hiss while rushing to put it back up, and as soon as you do, one from the top shelf falls onto the ground somehow. you hurriedly grab it and reach up to it on your tip toes, but you're barely able to reach.

you curse while you use the bottom of the bookshelf as a stool, not even realizing just how old this thing seemed and how much you weighed.

you sigh in relief whenever it doesn't fall down, it only wobbles a little as you step back onto the ground. you go to put the scrapbook away, but you notice that the stand hasn't stopped wobbling. it wobbles almost hauntingly back and forth, and that's when you realize it's going to fall on top of you.

you gasp while dashing to the floor while you slide out of the way, not even realizing that the scrapbook was being bricked by your arms holding it to your chest.

you cringe at the loud bang it makes as it falls, but the cringe turns to fear whenever you hear the pounding footsteps of levi.

you can't get up on your feet quick enough as he bursts through the door. his eyes dart to you on the floor and then back to the fallen bookshelf.

"what did you fucking do?! are you that stupid?!!" this has to be the loudest you've ever heard levi speak, and it makes you nervous.

tears well up in your eyes as you stare at him, completely petrified at how you might be beaten once more.

you hope levi spares you, just this once.

[evafrechette]

Superstar Glow

↠ seokjin x jimin | smut | pornstar!au, 1970s!au | 21+ | 4k

↠ Summary: “H-hello, I'd like to order a pizza please, with extra sausage. Mmmm I do enjoy a good ol' sausage." Jimin’s voice soft and seductive. He placed the phone on the ground and began to grind down on the mattress, head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers twisted the nipples that peaked out of the top of his bustier. Seokjin was getting hard watching the scene unfold in front of him. . .

“Superstar Glow is a brilliant new porn film. Fantastic debut by actor Kim Seokjin. It simply is the best film of 1975.” - Jeon Jungkook, Playguy Magazine.

(Aka Seokjin films his very first Porno)

↠ Warnings: anal sex, anal fingering, anal fisting, blowjobs, swearing, drug use, come shot, come eating, seokjin has a huge cock, porn films, terrible pizza related pick up lines, jimin in lingerie, 70s slang, drinking, casual mention of cheating, filming a porn video.

Seokjin confidently strode into the warehouse. It smelled strongly of cigarette smoke mixed with patchoulli incense which tickled his throat when he breathed in. Right in the center of the room was a circular shaped bed sitting on top of a large brown shag mat, partitions surrounded the afghan blanket covered bed which had 3 spotlights shining brightly in it’s direction. A funky bass line and rhythmic drums reverberated around the large room as people walked on by, cigarettes lazily hanging from their mouths as they carried long thick cables wrapped around their arms and bulky cameras perched on their shoulders.

In the far corner of the space sat a dressing table, the mirror lined with bright lights. A small man with thick thighs was currently perched on top of a fur covered stool, brushing his blond hair back gently. He was wearing a black and red lace bustier which brought attention to his muscular chest, garter belt with nude coloured stockings and silky black panties which showed off a rather impressive bulge. He was a very pretty man and Seokjin was pleased to be staring alongside someone so gorgeous.

Today was Seokjin's porno debut. He had been scouted at an adult movie theatre during a late night session of ‘Boys in the Sand’ by a director who happened to be sitting in the same row as him.

As with all adult theaters once the movie started, the dicks came out and his large size had garnered the attention of the man a few seats away. Seokjin was naturally skeptical, thinking it was a lame pick up line to get him back to his apartment to fuck. But when the man handed over a very professional business card and told him to "think about it" Seokjin realised the offer was legit.

Seokjin's watched the director Yoongi and his fantastic bushy chevron mustache adjusting the lighting on the set and walked over to say Hi. He was an quite the character, he wore a burnt orange turtleneck jumper underneath a brown, orange and pale yellow checkered leisure suit, his jet black hair was pushed off his face which allowed you to focus on his beautiful feline shaped eyes and strong eyebrows. A thick gold chain draped around his neck and several clunky (fake) gold rings sat on his fingers. His voice was deep, barking orders at the crew to get everything ready in time. He was also a short man, which would explain the very high brown and cream platform shoes he was wearing. Seokjin's ankles hurt just looking at them.

"Uh hey, what's crackin'." He asked once he had reached the man, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"Ahhh the star of today's shoot." A large hand shot out and slapped against Seokjin's, pulling him in for a hug. "How are you feeling today? Nervous? We have some cocaine if you wanna take a bump, loosen yourself up a bit? One of the guys can take you out back and suck your dick if that will help?" The man turned back to adjusting the light, mumbling about how you can't trust dope heads to get anything done right.

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. Once I'm in front of the camera I'll be groovy baby." His eyes continued to dart around the room taking everything in.

"Have you met your co-star yet?" Yoongi asked over his shoulder. "The cute little blond in the lingerie. He may look delicate and sweet, but he's a huge whore. Loves being stuffed with big cocks. Ah fuck yeah, that's perfect!" Satisfied with the lighting set up he turned his attention back to Seokjin dusting his hands on his polyester trousers. "Though, I've never had a cock as big as yours on my set, so this will be interesting."

Seokjin blushed at hearing this, he was truly blessed by the Penis Gods when it came to his manhood. Twelve inches of thick, tan cock. Even the vein that ran up the underside looked as though it was designed by a specialist penis sculptor. Yoongi had told him the night they met that his cock was made for pornography and it was a shame he wasn't showing the world his gifts.

The blond must have sensed he was being spoken about and made his way over to where Seokjin stood, swaying his hips deliberately with every step. He was a beautiful sight, a sharp straight nose that complimented his angled jawline, sultry monolids dusted with a shimmering brown eyeshadow, and a full, sumptuous pout that screamed "blow job lips"Seokjin licked his lips as he watched the way the mans long legs moved in the soft, silky stockings that enclosed his smooth legs.

"Yoongi, is this the Jive Turkey I'm filming with today?" The man cocked a hand on his hip, eyes roaming over Seokjin's body.

"Hey! I ain't no Jive Turkey, what the fuck?" Seokjin exclaimed, shocked that for the first time in his life he'd been insulted in such a way.

"Jimin mellow out huh? This is Seokjin, yes he is filming with you today, I hope they prepped you well earlier 'cause this man is gonna be a star baby!" Yoongi wrapped his arm around Seokjin's wide shoulders squeezing tight, "The biggest cock I've ever seen! He's gonna have you squealing like a little bitch, you're gonna love it."

"I was only joshin' you know me. I'm Jimin by the way." The blond made no attempt at a handshake, instead looking off seemingly disinterested in the conversation.

"See that door on your right? Head in there to get your threads for the shoot and when you're done get back here and we'll start, we're ready when you are." Yoongi clapped his hand against Seokjin's shoulder before letting go.

Once inside the small room he stripped off and dressed in the clothes that were hanging on the clothes rack. Crisp white trousers that fit like a glove, letting everyone see just what he was packing down below and a matching shirt that he made sure to leave partially unbuttoned. His hand brushed over the jewelry selection, deciding on a thin silver chain and matching ring. He looked at himself in the mirror and winked. He looked fantastic and he was truly feeling himself. He also couldn't wait to get out there and choke that sassy little twunk with his cock. The thought of his pink plush lips struggling to stretch around his girth had Seokjin twitching in his pants.

Once back on set the mood had changed, the loud stereo system had been turned off and the crew were in place ready to start filming. Jimin was sprawled out on the bed, hand lazily palming the bulge through his panties while he and Yoongi spoke in hushed tones.

"Seokjin! You look bitchin', that outfit is great. What's underneath is even better, oh Jiminie you are in for a treat," Yoongi clapped his hands gleefully, "Alright here's the skinny, Jimin is a horny slut who has ordered a pizza, Seokjin you are the pizza delivery guy. You come in and fuck his brains out. You both got it? It's porn, not rocket science. Think with your dicks not your brains. Can you dig it?"

"Right on." Seokjin nodded, walking to the prop table to pick up the pizza box before standing on the x marked with duct tape on the ground, just out of the way of the cameras. He unzipped his trousers and pushed his semi hard cock through the hole on the bottom of the pizza box. The only thing Jimin would be putting in his mouth today would be his cock. The loud wurring of the camera let everyone know that tape was rolling and it was showtime.

Yoongi slowly moved the camera towards the bed as Jimin's soft moans filled the room, his small fingers tracing up and down his stocking clad legs. Jimin picked up the prop phone pretending to dial a number.

"H-hello, I'd like to order a pizza please, with extra sausage. Mmmm I do enjoy a good ol' sausage." His voice soft and seductive. He placed the phone on the ground and began to grind down on the mattress, head thrown back in ecstasy while his fingers twisted the nipples that peaked out of the top of his bustier. Seokjin was getting hard watching the scene unfold in front of him. He really wanted his dick sucked immediately, but took a deep breath to calm himself down. Yoongi pulled the camera back and motioned towards Seokjin. One of the sound crew knocked against a piece of wood to replicate a door being knocked on and he quickly stood straight ready to make his grand entrance.

"Oh." Jimin crawled across the bed and skipped to near where Seokjin stood. One of the camera men, a tall man that went by the name Namjoon followed Jimin and stood directly in front of him, camera lowering to shoot a close up of his cock trapped behind the silk fabric, then making it's way to his face again. "Come on in." Jimin pursed his plump lips, before returning to the bed to sit, legs daintly crossed over one another. "Are you the pizza man? Because you sure look like you could deliver." He purred, stroking his length over the silk.

Seokjin walked into the shot, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He wasn't nervous before, but once he was under the heat of the lights, camera zooming in on his handsome face, well he was starting to feel like maybe he had fucked up on coming here today. Seconds ticked on by before he gained his composure, "Are you craving pizza? Because I'll gladly give you a pizz-a this dick." He pulled the top of the pizza box open, cock springing to life. Jimin's eyes nearly bulged out of his head which made Seokjin smirk.

He moved to stand in front of Jimin who was still sitting on the bed, using his free hand to run his fingers through the blonds perfectly styled hair.

"You're the only topping I need on my pizza." Jimin whispered loud enough for the sound boom to pick up, smooth as butter he dropped down onto his knees and took Seokjin into his hand, small fingers struggling to wrap around his thickness. He pumped Seokjin a few times before taking him into his wet hot mouth. Seokjin let out a gasp, he was surprised, he really thought the smaller man would struggle to suck his cock, but as he looked down he saw a blond head bop up and down expertly on his length.

Seokjin grabbed a fist full of bottle blond hair and moved his hips, shallow and slow to begin with then a little faster and harder, allowing his cock to slip further down Jimin's throat. The man hummed around his length, spit drooling down the sides of his mouth as he took Seokjin nearly to the base. Seokjin groaned at the feeling of Jimin's throat constricting tight around his cock. The sounds of crew footsteps and the glare of the hot lights above fading into the background as he lost himself to the pleasure of Jimin's mouth.

"Look at you, what a good boy you are, throat so full of my cock." He tightened his grip on Jimin's hair, "So pretty."

Tears ran down Jimin's cheeks, mixing into the spit that was dripping down his chin and neck. He pulled his cock free and slammed it back in without warning, fucking Jimin's pretty mouth with vigor. The camera men had moved closer to the action, a camera focused on Seokjin's cock while another filmed his reactions, the way his eyebrows furrowed whenever he felt himself getting close to his release and the quiet whimpers when he locked eyes with the man below him.

"Your mouth is too good at this pretty boy, I'm about to come." He groaned between gritted teeth, hips stilling as his hot release spilled down Jimin's throat. The blond swallowed Seokjin's load like the professional he was, falling back onto his ass, absolutely exhausted once he was done.

"Aaannd CUT!" Yoongi yelled from behind his camera, he pulled a joint from his pants pocket and motioned for one of the crew to light it for him. He took a big toke, holding the smoke in before exhaling. "Right on, right on. That was good. Shit, Jimin you are freaky deaky. Damn! This might just be my most successful film to date." He took another deep drag of the good Mary Jane and pointed at Seokjin, "Go have a drink, there is whiskey and beer on the table, or water if you're a square. If you think you'll have trouble getting hard again go and ask Hoseok for a little blue pill, that'll help. He's the jelly brain over there in the red shirt and fake Gucci belt."

Seokjin slowly removed his cock from the pizza box and threw it to the side as someone from wardrobe dashed over and cleaned him up with a warm hand towel. He tucked himself back into his pants and strolled over to the drinks table, deciding on a bottle of Rheingold beer, he nursed the red and white labelled bottle as he watched the crew change the film in the cameras. The tight knit all male crew made lewd remarks and joked around, while Yoongi the director sat in his chair getting stoned.

"How are you enjoying your first shoot?"  Jimin asked, face no longer a tear stained mess.

"It's pretty rad, not quite what I expected but it's all gravy." He replied taking another sip of the yeasty and fruit flavoured liquid.

"Yoongi was right, your cock is magnificent. I can't wait for you to fuck my ass. Don't be gentle, I like a bit of pain." The sweet voice next to him explained.

Seokjin nearly choked on his drink, everyone here was so open and had absolutely no filter.

"No fake?" He turned to ask the man.

"No fake handsome. They prepped me so well earlier you could probably fist me if you wanted. Don't want to scare you off on your first day though." He laughed, hand shooting up to cover his plump lips.

"I-I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

-----

Jimin and Seokjin strolled back onto set once the film had been changed and Yoongi returned from taking a piss. Now it was time for the fucking. Seokjin took a deep breath and looked down at his crotch, "Make me proud big boy." He whispered.

"Alright places people, let's get this thing done so I can go home and fuck my girlfriend before my bitch of a wife gets back from work." Yoongi called out, shifting to sit behind his Ikegami 3-tube colour camera.

Seokjin made his way over to Jimin, who was standing in front of the bed. He gave the smaller man a shy smile before turning his head towards Yoongi waiting for the signal to begin.

"3, 2, 1 Now Fuck!"

"I know this is pretty cheesy, but I think you're saucy." Jimin curled his hand around the lapel of Seokjin's shirt, pulling him so close he could smell the star anise and blackcurrent hints of his cologne. Seokjin leaned down and slowly pressed his pillowy lips against Jimin's, who slightly parted his own when he let out a quiet sigh. Seokjin flicked his tongue against the soft fullness of Jimin's pink tinged lips and deepened the embrace, tongue meeting with the other as he placed his big hands on either side of the mans soft face, tilting his head upwards for easier access.

He nipped at Jimin's bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. He dived back in, kiss messy and wet, their mouths wide open so the camera could film their tongues flicking against one another's. Seokjin nudged Jimin backwards towards the bed and helped lower him down onto the firm mattress, caging his lingerie clad body with his own. He rocked his already hard cock against Jimin, grinding hard against the silk, desperate to feel some friction. They continued to messily make out until Yoongi called out "Cut!"

Seokjin concentrated on getting his breathing under control. He was already so hard again and it was beginning to hurt. The man Yoongi had earlier identified as Hoseok came over and handed Seokjin a bottle of KY Jelly, "He's been prepped, but lube up anyway, we don't film that pain shit some people are into. Finger him a few times, slowly so they can get some close ups, then fuck him like you've never fucked before. Come wherever you like, just make sure to let us know so they can get in close and film it."

Jimin was on his hands and knees, silk panties long gone, as he spread his cheeks wide for Seokjin. His hole was stretched open, pink and glistening. Seokjin coated his fingers in the clear liquid and crawled behind the blond.

"Alright, no stopping this time. Let's get this cumshot in one go. Action!" Yoongi murmured, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

Seokjin brought two fingers to Jimin's entrance and remembering Hoseok's words, slowly pushed in until he was knuckle deep. He pulled his fingers out, before pushing back in enjoying the sound of soft moans underneath him. Seokjin took his time to add another, and another, making sure to press down on Jimin's sensitive spot when he withdrew his fingers with each thrust. He watched in awe as Jimin's hole stretched perfectly around his knobbly fingers, clenching and fluttering due to his touch. He pulled out gently, coating his entire hand with more lubricant before lining up once more, tucking his thumb into the palm of his hand and steadily worked his entire fist into the blonds ass.

Jimin let out a long whine, teeth digging into his bottom lip. "Jimin don't do that, let it all out." Yoongi yelled unimpressed at his attempts to quiet himself.

Seokjin couldn't believe his eyes as he pushed in further, his whole hand disappearing inside Jimin's ass. He nearly came right then and there. He moved his hand shallowly inside Jimin's warm hole, cock throbbing as Jimin's pants and whimpers filled the room. "Fuck, you are amazing." Seokjin choked, enjoying the depravity of performing an act like this on someone. The camera men moved around the studio, positioning themselves awkwardly close to Seokjin to film what would no doubt be the highlight of the film. He looked over his shoulder and asked, "Can I fuck him now?"

"Yes, YES." Smoke puffed out between Yoongi's lips as he replied.

Seokjin withdrew his hand and quickly jumped off the bed to remove his clothes, flinging his trousers off to the side. Using the hand still coated in lubricant, he jerked himself off a few times coating his length in the sticky cool liquid.

"Do you like Pizza Hut pretty boy? Because I want to stuff your crust." He looked at the camera and raised his eyebrow before he slipped his thick cock into Jimin's gaping hole, balls snapping against the blonds supple ass when he bottomed out. His hole was surprisingly still tight and Seokjin couldn't help but let out a filthy groan.

"O-oh your cock is so big, it feels soooo good. Keep fucking my ass just like that." Jimin cried out mouth hanging open as he pushed back onto Seokjin's length. Seokjin slammed his cock back in again and Jimin fell face forward into the pillows due to the force. He spread Jimin's ass cheeks with his hands, watching as his massive cock stretched out the man below him. His grip was tight on the soft skin of Jimin's hips, leaving marks that would bruise by the evening. He leaned himself over the smaller mans body, chest pressed against his muscular back and rammed into him. They were both a whining, moaning mess, his cock brushing up against Jimin's prostate with every thrust. Seokjin placed his head against Jimin's shoulders, sweat making their skin stick to one another. He reached between his legs and took Jimin's cock into his hand and pumped him in time with his own thrusts.

"I'm gonna come soon, how far away are you?" He whispered into Jimin's ear, voice barely picked up by the sound boom. "Mmm keep doing that with your hand and I'll be coming pretty soon too, shit."

Seokjin faced the camera and seductively licked his lips, a hungry noise escaping his throat. The camera crew changed positions making sure to capture all the action from different angles. Namjoon climbed onto the bed, legs planted on either side of Seokjin as he filmed from above.

"Oh-oh shit, I'm gonna come." Jimin cried into the pillows, cock throbbing as his release spurted out onto the mattress underneath him. His hole squeezed around Seokjin's cock, so he picked up the pace and fucked his ass fast, desperate to reach his orgasm too. Jimin was becoming overstimulated, squirming his body under Seokjin's firm grip. He held on tight, thrusting so deep Jimin was seeing stars. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed in his ears triggering him to squeeze his eyes shut as he focused on reaching his high. The tell tale sign of his approaching orgasm began, tingling starting in his crotch and slowly spreading out to his arms and legs.

Seokjin managed to pull out just as he came, hot cum landing all over Jimin's soft ass cheeks, slowly dripping down onto the back of his thighs. The camera moved in close focusing on Jimin's stretched hole and his cum covered ass, Seokjin leaned down into the shot and dragged his tongue over the smooth skin of Jimin's perky rear and began cleaning up his mess. He hummed as he licked away his salty release, eyes focused on the blinking light of the camera, corner of his mouth turning up into a small smirk.

"CUT! That was great you dirty whores! All right, let's get this set cleaned and get the fuck out of here." Yoongi passed his camera to his assistant and walked over to Seokjin, he pulled out an envelope and handed it over, "Here's ya mulah for the day. If you want more of that let me know and I'll book you in for another film. I think this one is going to do really well. Pretty face, huge cock, how could it not?"

Seokjin jogged back to the small room to get changed, he could shower at home, adrenaline was coursing through his body right now and he was excited to catch up with his closest friends and tell them about his amazing experience. Once he was back to looking like normal everyday Seokjin and not burgeoning Porn star Seokjin he made his way around the room, saying thanks to all the staff, especially Jimin who had given him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Seokjin reached the exit pausing to take a look back at the porn set. He smiled as he watched crew dissemble lights and pack away furniture and props. Yoongi had said he could do this again, an offer he would take up for sure. Working at the local grocers didn't have as much appeal as having sweet, tight assholes begging for his cock, maybe this was the start of a new career for Seokjin? He pushed his sunglasses up onto his nose and stepped out into the bright summers day, he entered the building a porn actor virgin and left with that superstar glow, he was a (porn) star in the making.

[sehoenghwa]

cake [c.s] [final part]

concept: Choi San x gender neutral reader (ft. Park Seonghwa) warnings ⚠: smut, angst, choking, shitty behaviour

[Part 1]

A/N: aaaa it’s finally done!! I really like the endinggg I hope you enjoy part 2!! I’m sorry if I ever mention a gender on the reader, sometimes I get distracted but please let me know!! All criticism is appreciated :D

 You thanked all of the gods in existance for the fact that the academic year would be over in a couple of days. You decided that missing them wouldn't be of much importance, since you couldn't bear the embsfassment. You didn't want to face San, and you weren't sure you could face anyone at all. You felt like everyone knew about what had happened, and like everyone was silently judging you for falling right onto his trap. You needed time away from everyone in that place, as everyone reminded you of him.

  You spent days crying onto your pillow, because the unbearable heartbreak and weird sense of betrayal you couldn't help but to feel.

   It had been about two weeks into summer vacation when you decided to pick yourself up from bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror: bloated face, massive eye bags, hair severely overgrown and your body looked unhealthy. Your heart broke at the sight, and you cursed yourself for getting to this point because of a man.

   You decided that, from that point on, you'd get better. You'd treat yourself, and become someone new. But it's easier said than done of course... You sort of did that. At least you were happier...

    When you finally emerged from the comfort of your bed you fixed yourself the best you could and made way towards the nearest non-suspicious looking bar. It was a nice medium-sized bar, that looked like it was straight from a gossip girl set. It was only 5pm, but as soon as you closed the door behind you, it felt like it was 1am. The music wasn't loud nor quiet, the decoration wasn't exaggerated, and the purple and pink neon lights lit up the bar nicely.

  Despite not having any windows, the smell of smoke wasn't unbearable like most bars, it was almost as if it was just setting the ambient.

   You sat at the bar and order a 'whatever you recommend here'. You actually had about 4 of those. You felt surprisingly well, that is, until you stood up to go to the bathroom. Your legs were wobbly and suddenly the room was spinning. Somehow you made it to the bathroom and came back, to find that your seat was taken. Yes, there were about 5 other seats, but slightly drunk you had decided that that was your seat. How dare guy-who-looked-handsome-from-the-back tke it from you?

   You tapped his shoulder, a little too harshly but you couldn't control it really. The male turned around and you gasped loudly. He raised an eyebrow at your extreme reaction, but again, your emotions, actions and reactions were highly enhanced with the help of alcohol.

   You recognized those deep dark eyes and eye-catching lips anywhere.

    Seonghwa. He was one of San's 'og' friends. You saw him in San's ig pictures from years ago, and you'd never seen one without the other walking around the halls.

    'Y/N?'

    You could feel your face get hotter, out of anger. You turned around and wobbled towards the door, but Seonghwa was faster. He grabbed your wrist.

    'Y/N, are you drunk? It's 7pm what are you doing here?'

    You turned to face him and placed your index finger on his chest, pushing him back.

    'None of your business. Don't talk to me.'

   Seonghwa was smart, it didn't take him long to understand your behaviour. His grip on your wrist was steady and he didn't let you go.

    'You know I'm not him, right? I didn't do it, and I would never do something like that.' He told you.

   Tears immediately brimmed in your eyes and your furrowed your eyebrows angrily.

    'So you know about it.'

    Seonghwa sighed and nodded.

    'He tells me about every single one...'

    You fought his grip and ran outside, the best you could. Seonghwa followed you, not wanting to leave you alone, drunk and wobbling in the streets that had already gotten dark.

     'Y/N please, I'm sorry he did that to you. I had no idea.' He tried to excuse himself.

     'But you're still friends with him!' You yelled, earning a couple of looks from people passing by.

     'I can't just drop him Y/N! I've been his friend since we were kids. I hate that he does this, and I hate that I'm associated with it even more. You don't see it, but I see the dirty looks I get from every girl he fucked and trashed away because they think I'm just like him.'

   'Oh boo hoo poor you!' You mocked.

   He placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

   'Do you live nearby?' He asked.

   'Why? So you can fuck me and dump me too?' You mocked.

   'Because I'm driving you home before some idiot on the street picks you up and convinces you to fuck him.'

   You felt a little shy for assuming anything about him when he meant to do something good. You just nodded and told him your address as you walked to his car. The drive was silent, the only sound being his finger tapping on the wheel.

   Once he pulled up in your driveway, he turned off the engine and sighed.

    'Y/N I'm genuinely worried for you. I'm not San, okay? He texted me after you left his house, and told me what happened. The days after he does that we usually get some nasty comments from whoever he fucks. I looked for you, I expected to see you breaking a couple pencils imagining it was his dick or shooting him death glares, but you didn't come to class. Neither did you the next day. And it's two weeks into summer vacation and I find you, completely different, getting drunk in a bar at 5pm. I don't want you to waste one of the best years in your life because of my friend. I don't know how he gets away with that façade, I guess no one believes that he's actually kind of an ass...'

   You listened to him carefully. He sounded genuinely concerned, and you were touched by his words for a second.

   'The deed is done.' You told him, coldly.

   He sighed, a little sad at your disbelief in him.

   'Let me give you my number. Text me if it gets to your head again, please.'

   The next day, when you woke up, you felt a little embarrassed at the way you spoke to him. A couple days went by but you never texted him, your pride wouldn't let you. But you couldn't stop thinking about him. How sweet he had been to you even though he didn't know you at all. How genuine he seemed...

    Still, you didn't text him. You got in some nice clothes, fixed the hair you still hadn't bother to get an appointment for, and went to the same bar you had seen him the other day. Except at a decent hour this time.

   As soon as you walked in you spotted him. He was very hard to miss, as he always seemed to be the best mannered and best composed person in the room.

  'Drink alone often?'   He turned around, a little surprised to hear your voice again. Seonghwa smirked.

  'Didn't think I'd see you again so soon.' He told you, setting down his drink.

  You said nothing. Your ego stopped you from doing so, you'd never admit you felt bad for being so cold to him.

  There wasn't much of a conversation between the two of you, only some small talk accompanied by one too many drinks.

   You only realized how late it was when the music became louder and the dance floor started becoming full of drunk men and women. The bar around you was spinning a little, but not enough that you couldn’t grab Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to dance with you.

   ‘Who knew you could act normal for once instead of stone cold?’ 

   You slapped his chest as you drunk-danced to a random trap song. 

   ‘I’m not stone cold, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t like your dear friend.’ You explained, looking at him as if you meant an offense.

    Seonghwa rolled his eyes and pulled close so you could see well his eyes under the flashing lights. He was dead serious. 

    ‘Y/N, please stop. I’m not like him. I told this over and over, I hate what he does, so please stop comparing me to San.’ 

    You looked at him for a second, not knowing what to do, or say. Up until this point you were the harsh one, but now his calm, soft side had turned into a serious person that you had never seen before.

    As you thought about what he said, you gulped, rummaging through your brain, trying to find an adequate response. 

    ‘Then help me take him down.’

    Seonghwa tilted his head and frowned, not quite understanding what you meant.

    ‘If you hate it so much, help me do something about it. No one deserves to be treated that way and I want to make sure no other girl gets fooled by him.’ 

    The male was a little mervous about it. A frienship with San was something he had known his whole life. Hell, he had a key to San’s house, he was on a first name basis with San’s parents... The male gulped and sighed.

    He grabbed your wrist and took you outside, so you could speak properly without the banging sound of the music interrupting you.

   ‘Y/N you know I can’t do that, he’s my-’

    ‘Your friend? Is he though? Is he the person you became friends with? If a narcissistic asshole who lures in girls with a fake persona just to fuck them and trash them the second after came up to you and asked you to be ‘best friends’ would you happily take it?’ You interrupted him. 

    Seonghwa’s head was confused. It was torn between the comfort of a life-long friendship and what was morally correct. His head was trying to separate all the events, all the good memories and fun times, from the things that he didn’t like. And after a short minute, he came to a conclusion: you were right. All of the rainbows and flowers were buried in the past, all of the laughs and giggles he could remember was from little San, that went to church every Sunday and refused to kill any backyard bug because ‘bugs are friends’. Not new San. Not bubblegum-haired San that got Seonghwa in trouble over and over, not San that had Seonghwa pick him up from random girls’ houses at 2am because ‘he didn’t want to be in the same room as them after he fucked them’. Current San wasn’t Seonghwa’s friend.

   ‘Fine, I’ll help you. But how?’ He finally replied, earning a wide grin from you.

   You didn’t exactly know how tho... You only knew that you wanted- no, you needed revenge. You thought for a while, before something came to mind. 

   ‘Like this!’ 

   You grabbed Seonghwa’s face and kissed his lips, for a brief second. When you pulled away his face was red and his eyeballs looked like they were going to pop out of the socket at any second.

   ‘By kissing me!? I’m not complaining Y/N but, what?’

   ‘No dumb dumb, pretend we’re dating. It’ll make him uncomfortable. At least enough until he throws a fit and I get a confession out of him. Plus, if I’m close to his best friend it adds credibility when I say that he’s an ass, and people won’t just take me for ‘another crazy bitch who was rejected by San’.’

   Seonghwa just shrugged.

   ‘Fine by me, I don’t care.’

   After saying that, Seonghwa grabbed your waist and pulled you close, close enough so he could close the gap between your lips, just for a second longer than you had before. 

   ‘What was that for?’ You asked, a little shocked, once you two pulled away.

   ‘Would you believe my excuse if I told you it’s to make it seem more realistic and not because you look very fuckable right now?’ Whether it was the alcohol or a hidden desire speaking, he meant it.

   You just laughed him off, thinking it was a joke. Quickly you understood it wasn’t, by taking a look at the way his eyes became even darker and the way he bit his lower lip.

  You didn’t hesitate when Seonghwa gently grabbed your hair and intertwined your fingers with his, as he dragged you along to his flat.

 As soon as you stepped inside, the male shut the door and pressed you against it, taking a second to appreciate the way you looked under the dim lights. Seonghwa crashed his lips against yours and began undressing you in his living room, too needy to even let you get to his bedroom. 

   Unlike San, Seonghwa was gentle with his touch. It was a nice mix of romantic and passionate. He removed your clothes as his lips moved down your neck, leving very light bites so it wouldn’t be shamelessly marked on your neck. As soon as he got to your chest, however, you could tell the purple spots would be lasting for weeks. 

   You undressed him just as quickly as he undressed you, and it was truly mesmerizing what clothes could hide. Seonghwa’s body was just perfectly: fit, but not in excess. Broad shoulders, thick thighs and toned torso, that you kept on admiring as he picked you up and laid you on the couch slowly. 

   Seonghwa’s tip grazed over your entrance and you moaned into the kiss.

   ‘O-oh wait!’ He said, and stood up, leaving you confused as he stepped away.

   He soon came back with a little bottle of lube, causing you both to flush.

   ‘I didn’t... want it to hurt?’

   You smiled a little, and watched as the light from the moon shined and reflected on his slightly sweaty body.

    Seonghwa aligned his tip by your entrance once more, and hovered over you, allowing you to encircle his neck with your arms.

   He filled you up, slowly. You bit down on his shoulder causing him to groan. He started slow, but you could see he wanted to do more.

   ‘D-do it.’

   ‘What?’ He asked.

   ‘Don’t hold back, please.’

   Seonghwa stopped for a second and looked at you.

   ‘I don’t want to hurt you...’

   ‘You won’t.’

   The male licked his lips and kissed your temple.

   ‘Fine by me.’

   Seonghwa grabbed waist, snapping his hips rapidly against yours, causing you to grip onto the couch for dear life. He reached for your neck, encircling it with his hand in a way that you didn’t even know you liked.

   There were so many groans and moans and noises echoing around the room, and you couldn’t even hear them. You were too focused on the way he fucked you.

   ‘You like that? Like when I fuck your pretty little head dumb?’

   ‘S-shit! Yes!’

   Soon enough you came, but he kept thrusting into you. The overstimulation was painful, yet pleasurable. 

   ‘Can y-you take it babydoll?’ 

   ‘Fuck- yes! Seonghwa!’ 

   You came once more, with a yell for his name, and almost immediately he pulled out and came all over your torso. 

    He looked down at the mess he made. 

   ‘Oh... Sorry about that. You look good though.’

   You collected some of the cum on your finger, put it in your mouth, and winked at him.

   ‘Fuck... You’re golden.’

  Weeks went by and the changes were slow. You wanted it to look natural. It started with a couple of selfies the two of you posted when you met from time to time, then the dates became more frequent, and more public, and then you became his lockscreen photo. Soon enough, academic year began once more, and you agreed to walk into the building holding hands, as if you truly were in love. It shocked everybody, even San. They all had seen you two, but people just assumed that it was a summer fling, not a serious thing.

   San wouldn’t deny that it bothered him, because it did. Very much actually. It made him uncomfortable that he treated you like that, because to him you were nothing, and now you were hanging out with his best friend all the time, which meant you were hanging out with him. And you didn’t even look bothered, at all.

   The day came when you and Seonghwa first kissed in front of everybody, it was about a week into it, and that’s when San lost it. You were sitting with Seonghwa, San and a couple other guys that often hung out with them in the cafeteria. San was desperately trying not to look at the two of you. How did this even happen? Seonghwa did tell him he was seeing somebody but... You? He usually never looked at any other person he fucked again and now not only did he have to look at you, but he also had to hang out with you. 

   You were sitting so close to your ‘boyfriend’ that you were nearly on his lap. Your head was resting on his shoulder as he caressed your thigh. Seonghwa said something funny, and as both of you laughed you looked at each other. Your lips were awfully close, and as you stared into each other’s eyes you couldn’t help but share a brief, innocent kiss. A kiss that triggered San.

   ‘Okay what the fuck is going on!?’ The irritated male finally asked, through gritted teeth, while looking at the two of you. 

   ‘What do you mean?’ You asked, feigning ignorance. 

   Seonghwa squeezed your thigh, as a warning to take it easy.

   ‘You know exactly what I mean.’

   ‘No, I don’t. I met Seonghwa, we started talking, enjoying our time together and eventually... we fell for each other.’ You told him, looking at Seonghwa lovingly to sell the lie. 

   ‘Is this a part of some fucking plan to make me jealous?’

   ‘You? Why would this be about you?’ 

   ‘You know why.’ 

   ‘I really don’t.’ 

   San gripped his cutlery hard. The way you were pretending nothing had happened was pissing him off beyond belief. 

   ‘Stop pretending you don’t remember.’

   ‘Did... Something happen between the two of you? Did you date or something?’ Yeosang, who had become a little awkward by the conversation asked.

   A couple curious students that were eating in tables nearby were overeharing the conversation, and quickly stopped what they were doing to focus on the gossip.

   ‘No, we didn’t date.’ San told Yeosang. 

   ‘We didn’t, but I think I seem to remember something... Oh! Right! It was the way you pretended to be interested in me, then fucked me, and kicked me out of your house to never speak to me again.’

   Yeosang and Yunho looked at San, with disgust painted all over their faces.

   ‘Dude, you still do that!?’ Yunho asked.

   ‘He never stopped.’ 

    Everyone was shocked, as Seonghwa said that. He didn’t look up from his sad chocolate pudding. 

    ‘What the fuck Seonghwa!? Is that what you do now!? Screw my leftovers and then stab me in the back!?’ San exclaimed.

   Seonghwa slammed his fist on the table and looked up at San to meet his eyes. It was an expression that the latter had never seen on his cute, kind, puppy-like best-friend, and he wasn’t so sure he ever wanted to see it.

   ‘I’ve had enough! I’ve had fucking enough of you and your shitty behaviour, I’ve had enough of you using our friendship as an excuse to make me run around like a dog doing whatever you need, and I’m tired of getting angry looks from all the girls you fucked and then trashed away in this school. All while putting up this angel boy façade! You wanna fuck random girls and leave them on the side of the road the next day!? Get a hooker. You’re disgusting for toying with people like that. I’ve had it!’

   Murmurs and whispers could be heard in the cafeteria, after Seonghwa’s explosion. There was silence in the table, however.

   Suddenly, San’s famously adored pink hair was stained by brown goo. 

   ‘This is for screwing me and telling me to ‘skidaddle’ right after you came.’ A sobbing girl said, as she dumped another pudding on his head. ‘And this one is for running off and fucking my sister the next day.’ 

   San looked around. There was an occasional ‘you go king’ face from some pathetic little man who seemed to love his behaviour, but those ones were hidden behind the dozens angry and disgusted faces of every single peer of his.

   He panicked. A guy stood up and as he started to step towards San, the latter just ran away. He dashed out of the cafeteria to never be seen again, at least in that building.

   You turned to Seonghwa and hugged him. 

   ‘Thank you.’

   He smiled at you, as he pet your head. 

   ‘It’s alright honey, it needed to be done.’ 

   Seonghwa leaned in to kiss you, a sweet victory kiss, but you backed away.

   ‘Woah, we did it, we don’t need to fake it anymore!’ You told him with a smile. Silly him, he had forgotten!

   ‘Oh... Yes sorry, it’s the habit. Excuse me I... I need to go to the bathroom.’ 

   He stood up and walked away, and you were left to talk to his friends. But you missed the way tears pooled in his eyes. You missed the way his face grew red and the unstability in his voice. You missed the red, puffy eyes and the bruised knuckles he tried to hide once he came back from the bathroom. 

   Seonghwa cursed himself for forgetting that it was all fake.

----

   taglist: @sansbun​ @haram-monbebe​ @beefpork​ @softvelvetkisses​ @palegardenrebel​ @swimmingkpopblog​ @mirror-juliet​ @mingismoon​ @raysanshine​ @staytinyy​ 

[shirtlesssammy]

7x19: Of Grave Importance

Then:

Sam and Dean Winchester lost everyone and everything that mattered to them this season. #notapositiveseragambleblog

Now:

Sam and Dean enjoy a car hood dinner when Dean gets a call from Annie, an old hunter friend. They agree to meet for lunch the next day.

That night, at an abandoned creepy house, two teens are making out.

Annie arrives outside.

The two teens get nervous and start running through the house. A man appears. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he says as he races towards them. He disappears, and so do the teens. The camera fades to Annie walking into the house. 

Before her flashlight flickers out and the front door slams behind her, Annie finds the two teens dead in a pool of blood. 

Dean and Sam wait for a late Annie the next day. Sam tells Dean that Bobby and her had “a thing.” Dean looks surprised but tells Sam that he knew that. Dean admits to hooking up with her too. Then Sam admits to hooking up with her. AND BUCKLEMING ARE THE GROSSEST TO EVER GROSS. What is the fucking POINT? Just. Stop.

Dean tries calling Annie but has no luck reaching her. He then toasts “to ghosts that aren’t there.” And pours one out of Bobby’s flask. (Side-eye emoji) They soon realize that Annie isn’t going to show so they head to her motel room to see what she’s been up to. 

Her notes indicate the Old Van Ness House is where she’s been concentrating her work. Nothing has ever really come of the place though. 

Bobby is there, unable to communicate with the brothers, but he is starting to be able to move things. The brothers decide to go check the place out, and almost leave Bobby’s flask, and thus Bobby, behind. 

The brothers (and Bobby) arrive at the house.Sam and Dean see nothing, but Bobby sees a house full of ghosts. Dean tries calling Annie again. They hear her phone ringing down a hallway.

Bobby sees a ghost yell at another ghost, and then Annie is there. Bobby tells her she’s a ghost. He asks if she ran away from her reaper like he did. She didn’t even see a reaper, and is shocked that Bobby ran from his. They talk ghost stuff. 

Sam and Dean continue to look for Annie. Their EMF reader is off the charts. 

Bobby and Annie see another ghost move a chair and start talking to him. Bobby wants to know why there are so many dead people in the house. Annie wants to know how to move things. The ghost tells them they have two options: be calm about it or rage about it. (And then Bobby says he hated Ghost and Dean lost a second father, again.) Just as Bobby’s about to try and move a candlestick, a ghost starts screaming and runs at him, bursting into dust at the last second. The other ghost explains that all ghosts deteriorate, just at different speeds, but they’re all on the same path. 

Sam and Dean come back to the room with Bobby and Annie. They didn’t find anything and decide to head back and look at her research closer. And another ghost approaches Annie and Bobby. She had previously tried reaching out to Annie. Bobby suddenly disappears. 

He ends up in the car with Sam and Dean --because of the flask. They all head to a museum to learn more about the Van Ness house. They learn more about Whitman Van Ness, the owner, and Dexter O’Connell, the man convicted of killing Van Ness’s fiance on the eve of their wedding. The museum dude tells the brothers to stay away from the place. 

Sam learns more about Dexter O’Connell, namely, he escaped prison and was found in the house shot to death. Sam wants to know why he’d go back to the same house he was arrested at? 

Two teens arrive at the house, ready to...apparently...hold an in memoriam ghost hunt for their deceased friends. It’s so touching :/

Meanwhile, Dean just got out of the shower. 

For Post-Shower Science:

He discovers a message written on the mirror that reads “Annie trapped in house.” Thanks, Bobby! Dean demands to know who’s in the bathroom. Bobby scrawls his name on the fogged up mirror. 

The teens get confronted by Dexter, who rushes at them. Whitman stops him and then brutally murders the two teens. Because SEE, he’s the REAL monster here. Dexter pleas for Whitman to stop, but Whitman jabs his hand into Dexter’s chest and sucks him right up. 

In case you’re wondering what just happened to Dexter’s ghost, Annie gets everything spelled out to her by Victoria (the ghost who tried to call her cell phone). See, Whitman feeds on other ghosts. He absorbs their energy or delights in their torture - and that’s why Whitman keeps his robust ghost collection trapped in the house. 

Annie orders Victoria to grab the camera from the teens’ bodies and then watches as Whitman hauls the bodies into a secret room. 

Sam and Dean head inside, salt-round shotguns in hand and Bobby close behind. Bobby yoinks his own flask and heads off to do some investigating of his own. Annie and Victoria shove the teens’ camera towards Dean. The Winchesters watch the footage. 

They find a trace of Annie on the footage. As they call for her, Victoria appears to them instead. Buckleming tries to make a joke out of sex workers for the SECOND time in about five minutes and I flip them my middle finger. Victoria explains to the Winchesters that the house is dangerous to humans AND ghosts, and quickly proves it by getting torched by Whitman. Sam and Dean head out to burn Whitman’s bones. Meanwhile, Whitman sneaks a key into Sam’s pocket. I’m sure it’s just a lovely gift!

Bobby curses his poor choices to Annie, wishing he’d left his flask with Dean so he could help fight Whitman. Annie hauls Bobby out of his well of manly self-pity and tells him to help her look for where Whitman stashed the bodies. They find Victoria’s body torched in a fireplace, and start exploring the room for hidden hatches. Bobby mojos the secret latch and the bookcase door swings open. We find the bodies, and Annie contemplates her own. 

Annie ponders what happens to ghosts. Do they go to Heaven? Hell? Bobby comments that ghosts just...bloop out. BOBBY did those boys of yours never explain to you how they actually WENT TO HEAVEN a few seasons ago? SMH! Annie asks for a hunter’s funeral so she can get a little peace. 

As Sam and Dean are driving to the cemetery, the accelerator goes haywire. Whitman appears and tries to take the wheel. Sam fishes the key from his pocket and Dean shoots it, sending Whitman’s spirit barreling back home. 

Back at the house, Bobby and Annie prepare to burn bodies when Whitman returns. They give him the slip at first. At the cemetery, Sam and Dean find the crypt and get to smashing. As Dean taps away at the stone, Bobby and Annie get cornered by Whitman. 

Whitman plunges his hand into Bobby and starts to suck away his mojo. In good timing news, Sam and Dean burn Whitman’s bones at the crypt, and he flames out. 

Bobby comes to on the floor, apparently as whole and hale as a ghost can be. Sam and Dean burst in and come face to face with...Bobby! That’s right, friends. They can now see him with their own regular eyes!

Sam realizes why his talking board experiments never worked - Dean always had Bobby’s flask in his pocket whenever he went out. BRB, crying.

Bobby explains that he chose to stay behind as a ghost. He orders them to help him burn the bodies (but not his flask), and Sam and Dean follow obediently. 

Later, the Winchesters and Bobby mourn Annie. Sort of. Mostly, Dean wants to know why Bobby would be so foolish as to stay behind when he could be rocking out in Heaven with a beer at Harvelle’s (hissing noise). Insulted, Bobby zaps out. 

As they drive in the car of feelings, Sam and Dean explore their options. They could be a merry trio of hunters! OR Bobby could go vengeful. Bobby listens moodily in the backseat. 

What’ll You Have on Your Quotestone?

I just made that curtain shimmy

Every village has its idiots

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[drabbles-mc]

Protective Detail (4/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, violence, blood, guns, mild injuries, Nestor being a goddamn thirst trap

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: This chapter is a liiiiittle longer than the others have been but hopefully that’s not a problem. Did I do a deep-dive on Gino Vento’s google photos to be able to know what his body art situation is?? You betcha. Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines​ @sillygoose6969​ @mydaiilyescape​ @lovebennycolon​ @the-radical-venus​ @gemini0410​ @garbinge​ @slutformayansmc​ @paintballkid711​ (as always, if you want to be on my taglists feel free to let me know!)

Despite the fact that the only thing on your agenda for the day was going to the grocery store, you still came into the kitchen in the morning to see Nestor sipping coffee in yet another button-down shirt and pair of slacks. You wondered for a moment if the man even owned just a pair of casual blue jeans.

“I don’t know where the Galindos shop,” you said with a laugh as you poured a cup of coffee, “But the grocery store I go to doesn’t have a dress code. I thought you knew that.”

He shook his head but you could see the smirk pulling at his lips, “This is just how I dress, Y/N.”

He didn’t use your name often, but each time he did you felt your entire body turn into jello for a few moments before you regained composure again. You took your time getting ready, loving that you didn’t feel rushed or like you were on a schedule. You told Nestor that he could drive, pretending that you just wanted the extra space in his car for shopping purposes. But you were also testing a theory that if you let Nestor have his way more often, he would let you know a little more about who he was as a person. Plus, you had to admit, you didn’t really mind his driving too much. Even if he did drive without the radio on.

Having Nestor with you while you grocery shopped was nice because you got to leave him in charge of pushing the cart while you perused the aisles and picked things out to eat for the next few days. You’d shove produce in his face and ask him if he thought it was fresh, and he would begrudgingly help you out, rolling his eyes at how terrible you were at telling if cantaloups were ripe.

The two of you were walking down the cereal aisle and he was shaking his head at you while fighting back a smile, “You’re like a child with access to a credit card.”

“Listen, Nestor,” you stood on your tip-toes to try and reach towards the back of the top shelf, “Coco Puffs have no age limit.”

He reached over you with ease and grabbed the last box from the back of the shelf and placed it in the cart, not saying a word as he continued pushing onward. You smiled to yourself for a few moments before snapping back to reality and speed-walking a few steps to catch up with him.

He was helping you bag items at the self-checkout and if you were honest with yourself, every now and then you would forget that he was with you to keep you from getting shot or kidnapped. Sometimes you even felt like friends, as much as someone like Nestor would let a person be friends with him.

Once you were out on the road and heading home, you looked over at Nestor with puppy-dog eyes, “Can we stop at Starbucks?”

He looked at you, shaking his head the second he saw the way you were looking at him, “The lines are always ridiculous. The ice cream will melt.”

You sighed, knowing that puppy-dog eyes most likely weren’t going to work on him but it was worth a shot anyway. You leaned back in your seat and scrolled on your phone, wanting desperately to play music to break up the silence.

Nestor passed the street that you normally turned off to get home. You looked over at him and saw how tense his body was. You sat upright, putting your phone back in your purse, “What?”

He nodded towards the rearview mirror, “Car’s been following us since we left the store.”

Your stomach knotted and you tried to take a deep breath but it didn’t help to calm you down at all. You instinctively reached for the glove compartment like it was your own car, and you were expecting Nestor to stop you, but instead he reached and opened it for you, not having to take his eyes off the road to dig around and get the gun out for you.

“You shouldn’t need to use it,” he placed the weapon in your hand and his lingered for a moment, “But just in case.”

He did his best to stay on busier roads, hoping it would be a deterrent, and also hopefully make it easier to lose whoever it was that was tailing them. You felt your heart pounding inside your chest—you had been hoping that your father had dealt with everything and that Nestor really was just an unnecessary precaution, but that wasn’t the case.

Somewhere along the way, the road went dead. Nestor was white-knuckled on the steering wheel and you were trying not to let your hands shake. He had been steadily increasing your speed, but even so the car had kept up and pulled up alongside you. You tried to get a good look at the people who were inside, but before you could, Nestor slammed on the gas and tried to speed ahead of them in one last burst to lose them.

Before he could successfully get in front of them, they swerved and hit the back driver’s side corner of the car. With the speed that Nestor had picked up they hit you hard enough to send the car spinning. By some miracle the vehicle didn’t roll, but you swerved off the road and slammed into an embankment, trashing the front of the car and pinning Nestor’s side. Even if he wanted to open his door and get out, he couldn’t. It all happened so fast, you don’t think you would’ve been able to explain exactly how the two of you ended up in that position even if someone tried to pay you to.

The other car pulled up, opening their passenger door. You had already undone your seatbelt and you instinctively shot the gun in your hand, busting the glass window. You fired off a second bullet and got the man who was coming towards you in the leg, causing him to drop. You were getting ready to fire off a third shot when a third man jumped out of the car and dragged him back throwing him in the back seat, the only sound in the air was a slew of curses of the man who was bleeding. You froze up, unable to take an easy shot that would take someone’s life.

“Just fucking go!” the man yelled as he barely got his accomplice into the back seat.

The car started peeling away before the back door was even completely shut. Clearly, they hadn’t been planning on you being armed at all, let alone ready to shoot. You took a shaky breath as you put the safety back on the gun. You turned to Nestor, who had a harsh burn along his neck from his seatbelt, as well as a cut and a welt on the side of his forehead from where his head slammed against the window while you were spinning out. You unclicked his seatbelt and gently tried to wake him without shaking him, not knowing how hard he had slammed his head.

“Nestor?”

He groaned in response, “Fuck.”

“Oh thank god,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“How many?”

“At least three,” you gently and slowly turned his head, trying to get a better idea of his injuries. You had a feeling that it was nothing serious—he was just going to be bruised and sore for a few days. His side of the car got slammed pretty bad when you went off the road. You pressed your lips together for a moment, “Still got feeling in all your limbs?”

He laughed, although it was weighted with sarcasm, leaning back against the headrest, “Yea.”

“Good,” you sighed, letting your body sink back into your seat as well, “All things considered, this could’ve gone a lot worse.”

He looked over at you, “Looks like we’ll be using your car for a few days.”

You slowly shook your head, “The ice cream is definitely gonna melt.”

His next laugh was genuine, despite the pain he was in, “You have the worst priorities in the world.”

“Hey, I checked to see if you were alive, didn’t I?”

After a few phone calls made to your father and some of his connections, you had a tow-truck and a temporary replacement car there in no time. It was convenient, the only thing you weren’t thrilled about was the fact that your father was the one who delivered it.

“What happened?” he ran to you and wrapped you in a hug

“They followed us out of the grocery store,” you said, taking a slight step back when he finally released you from his embrace, “Nestor noticed right away. They never saw my house.”

He nodded, “That’s good at least,” he held you gently by your upper arms, “How are you? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, “Neck is sore from getting spun out, but I’m alright. I should probably get Nestor home so I can get his cuts cleaned up.”

“You have things to take care of him?”

You nodded, “Yea of course.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shook your head, “No, I think we’ll be okay. I just wanna get home.”

He nodded understandingly, “Okay. I love you, mija, you know that right?”

You smiled, “I know. I love you too,” you hugged him, “I’ll talk to you later and give you a full download of the situation, alright?”

“Alright. Please, drive safe.”

“I will,” you kissed his cheek, “Te quiero.”

“Te quiero,” he walked over and shook Nestor’s hand, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

He nodded, feeling like there wasn’t much to thank him for in this situation, “Your daughter is a very capable woman.”

“She is,” with a final nod and one last look over at you, your father went back to his own car and took off.

You and Nestor waited for the tow truck to finish loading the SUV before finally piling into the car your father had brought for you. It was pretty reminiscent of Nestor’s SUV and you knew that was probably by design. In the back of your mind you knew your father probably wanted it to be your car so he could finally give you what he considered to be a real car. Truthfully you hated driving bigger vehicles, but you weren’t about to hand the keys over to Nestor.

“I’m sorry,” he said one you were both in the car.

“What’re you sorry for?” you asked as you buckled in.

“It never should’ve come to that, to you having to use my gun.”

You shook your head, “Don’t do that. You were unconscious. Not even you are cool enough to be able to pull that off while knocked out. Thanks to you, I get to sleep in my own bed tonight. So don’t beat yourself up,” you waited for him to meet your eyes, “Self-pity is the only thing that doesn’t look good on you, so knock it off,” you offered a small smile as you started the car.

He smiled as he settled into his seat but he didn’t say anything. The drive passed in silence, and for once you weren’t itching to turn the radio on. Part of you wanted to reach over and cover Nestor’s hand with your own, but you fought the urge. He somehow managed to keep his eyes open the whole ride home.

Once you started getting what was left of the groceries out of the car, Nestor asked for the house keys so he could do a check. You told him not to bother, that there would be no way a second threat would be lurking in your house after what just happened, but he insisted. It wasn’t a battle you were going to pick, so you handed over the keys.

The house was quiet, and you didn’t make any comment on it as you started unpacking the groceries. Nestor was sat on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and the look on his face made your heart feel heavy. You texted your father, asking for one small, very ridiculous favor, hoping that he would grant it to you.

Once all of the groceries were put away, you went and grabbed your first aid kit from the bathroom and sat down next to Nestor on the couch. This time, he didn’t look annoyed about the closeness you shared.

“C’mere,” you motioned for him to lean closer to you so you could start wiping and cleaning out the cut on his forehead. Neither of you said anything while you tended to him. He cringed slightly when you used the alcohol, but he remained silent. You told him that after he showered you would put a bandage on it just as a precaution, but the gash wasn’t really that deep. It was more to make you feel better about it. You wiped down the burn across his neck with an anti-bacterial rub, but there wasn’t a whole lot else that you could do for it.

“How’s your side?” you nodded to his side that got slammed into the door of the car when you hit the embankment.

“It’s fine,” he wasn’t looking at you.

“Can I see it?”

He stood up, ready to go shower and wash the day away, “I said it’s fine.”

“Well if it’s fine then there’s no reason not to let me see,” you weren’t yelling but it was a firm tone that you hadn’t used with him before.

He sighed, not having the energy to put up a fight. He untucked and un-buttoned his shirt, pulling the one side out so that you could see his chest and ribcage. There were a few bruises starting to come in, but it didn’t look terrible. You tried to stay focused on the real reason you wanted to look at him, but you had to admit that you let your eyes linger a little longer than medically necessary. You hadn’t been expecting to see so much ink on his skin.

“Can I go shower now?”

You nodded, “Yea. Thank you.”

You didn’t have the energy to go and get changed, so instead you melted into the couch, pushing the first aid kit to the floor. You heard the shower turn on and then, for the first time, he put music on. Your eyes went wide, thinking for a moment that you must’ve hit your head at some point too and were hearing things. After a minute went by, you finally let yourself relax, not even wanting to turn the television on and risk drowning out the melodies drifting out of the bathroom. You didn’t know what kind of music you were expecting Nestor to listen to, but what he was playing was much more mellow than you thought it would be.

You were resting with your eyes closed when there was a light knock on the door. You got up, smiling because you knew what it was. You opened the front door, smiling at your father’s newest assistant who looked like he was only a couple weeks out of college. He stood there with a smile as he held out a brown paper bag to you.

“Your dad said you needed these?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, thank you so much,” he nodded and went to walk away when you caught his attention again, “Hey, I never caught your name.”

“Ricardo. You can call me Ricky.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Have a good night.”

You shut and locked the door and put the bag in the freezer, grinning over the fact that your father was still willing to indulge you in silly things like this even after all this time. You snapped back to reality when the sound of the shower and the music both shut off. The door creaked open and you fought the urge to peak into the hallway.

After a few minutes went by and Nestor didn’t reappear in the living room, you took it upon yourself to go to him. You grabbed the bag out of the freezer and two spoons before making your way down the hall.

You knocked lightly on the door, not used to it being shut. His voice was quiet on the other side, “Yea?”

You opened the door and fought to not let your jaw hit the floor. Nestor was lying on his bed, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. All you could think about, though, was the fact that he was lying there with no shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants. You truly couldn’t believe the number of tattoos that the man had. His chest, stomach, and arms were completely decked out in ink of all kinds. You hadn’t given much thought to him having tattoos—you saw the one on his neck and his hands but other than that it never really crossed your mind. Your quick glance earlier didn’t do his extensive body art justice.

And his hair wasn’t braided—his long, thick curls were thrown up into a messy bun on top of his head. You were certain that there would never be a better look for him than that. You wished it didn’t take such a rough day to get it out of him. You cleared your throat slightly, chastising yourself over how your mind instantly flew to some very unprofessional places.

“I come bearing gifts,” you said as you walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, “Well, gift. It’s just one.”

He opened one eye, smiling as you set the pint of ice cream and spoon on his nightstand, “Which of your father’s assistants had to drive that over?”

You laughed, “The new one, Ricky.”

He forced himself to sit upright, “Poor kid.”

He reached for the ice cream and your eyes were glued to his forearms, figuring it was the safest place for you to study as you digested all of the new ink that you were seeing. You were trying not to gawk but he was making it really difficult for you. You bit down lightly on your bottom lip, unable to force yourself to look away.

He noticed you staring and immediately became very aware of how he looked, “Fuck, sorry. Let me grab a shirt.”

You shook your head, “Stop. This is your home too for now. I don’t give a shit,” you laughed, “After today you can wear whatever you want,” you took a scoop of ice cream out of your pint, “Your hair looks good like that, by the way.”

He smiled, slowly pulling his legs up so he was sitting cross-legged by his pillow, “Thanks. You tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, “Hey, man-buns are in right now.”

He chuckled as he methodically scooped away a layer at a time. You pulled your feet up and sat the same way he was, the two of you facing each other. Neither of you said anything as you ate, and you soaked up the moment.

“Can I put a bandage on your cut?” you asked as you put the top back on your ice cream container.

“It’s really not that bad.”

“I know but it’ll make me feel better.”

He shrugged, nodding, “Sure.”

You gathered up your spoons and what was left of your ice cream and walked out of the room. You tossed the containers back into the freezer before going to grab the first aid kit off of your floor. After thinking about it for a moment, you made a pit-stop in your room and changed out of your clothes, opting for a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt.

By the time you walked back into his room, Nestor had put on a t-shirt moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs off so his feet hit the floor. You sat down next to him and looked at his forehead. You sifted through the different-sized bandages you had before you found one that was satisfactory. You leaned in, gently applying it to his forehead.

You rested your palm on the side of his face, lightly tracing your thumb over the bandage to make sure it was completely on. Nestor’s eyes were closed, and without thinking better of it, he leaned slightly into your touch and you froze, not wanting to give up the contact. You tried to relax your body, but you couldn’t.

A few seconds later he opened his eyes again, and realized what he was doing. He sat upright and cleared his throat, not sure what to say or do. You forced yourself to break the silence, “Need anything else?”

He shook his head, “No. Thank you. I know I’m here to keep you safe but you definitely saved my ass today.”

You chuckled, “And you can save my ass tomorrow,” your expression grew a little more serious, “But really, you good?”

He nodded, “I’m good.”

“Okay,” you rested your hand on his knee for a moment, “Goodnight, Nestor.”

You went to take your hand away as you stood when you felt his come to rest over it, completely enveloping it, “Goodnight,” he gave your hand a soft squeeze.

You walked out of his room, shutting the door behind you. you turned off all the lights in the house before going to your room and collapsing onto your bed. You stared up at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened that day. You traced over the top of your hand where Nestor’s had been and, despite the day the two of you had had, you found yourself smiling.

[tailspace]

━━━━ title: hotel room

━━━━ group and idol: ateez, yunho (x fem!reader)

━━━━ summary: while you wake up next to your secret boyfriend Yunho, your brother is waiting for you for an exhaustive interview of what you've been doing all night.

━━━━ classification: imagine, every audience

━━━━ note: first i want to apologize if there are errors in grammar or whatever, english is not my language, I am latina. second, this is something I wrote first thinking about NCT's Ten, but I thought it best to adapt it to Yunho because I loved it the way it was with him.

━━━━ warning: do not translate or adapt my content without asking permission first and asking me for the requirements I make.

━━━━ languages not available for translation: spanish and english

You turned on the sheet with your eyes closed, colliding with a body that suddenly hugged you tight, guarding you and giving the heat that you exactly wanted and expected, its fingers caressed the curve of your back delicately, tracing lines and circles, feeling like  the hands of others now instead of just hugging you were sliding past your lower back to your thigh to take it and lay it against his, leaving you closer to each other so that you could sink your face into his neck and in a big hug, in which  they had both fallen asleep again.  A dream in which both of them had become uncomfortable again, but without ceasing to surround each other at least a little.

They had carelessly ignored the alarm, the hotel's air conditioning was colder than they wanted, and the blankets weren't warm enough.  The situation had caused the people in the next room to start knocking on the door relentlessly, their companions, looking for Yunho in one room and you in another, having no idea of ​​anything.

"Yunho," you say sleepily, raising your head and paying attention to the screams on the other side of the door. "Yunho! It's Hong Joong!"

"Mmh?"

"Get up!" Your mobile had started ringing on the dresser next to it, reading San's name on the screen, making a shiver run through your entire body.  He was grateful that his tone was quiet now, otherwise Hong Joong and Woo Young would have recognized the sound.

"What happens?" Respond a little more savvy.  You point to the door and he runs to the bathroom to answer his cell phone.

"Hey, What happens?"

"I've been at your door for five minutes, what the hell are you doing?"  You would have agreed to share a room with me.

"Ouh! I'm in the cafeteria bathroom, I couldn't sleep so I came for an early coffee."

"You wake up at six in the morning?"  In his tone he seemed not to finish convincing himself, but even so he nodded outside the room where you were supposedly staying and turned around to go back to his one in which he shared with another of the boys " I'll catch you there, wait for me for those  tables that are in the window."

"Mmh, yes, I'll wait for you there."

When the call had finished, you released all the air trapped in your lungs and nervously you opened the bathroom door little by little, finding yourself looking at yourself in a mirror.  He looked for the reflection of someone else in the room but there was no one but him and soon, the rest of them would be arriving to accompany them, he had to get to his room right now.  He slammed the door, drawing his attention, receiving a more than playful smile and a flirtatious hug.

"Do you feel like a teenager huh?"

"I feel like someone who is going to shoot if I don't leave now" getting out of his arms smiling lopsidedly he observed if there was no one outside and you ran on tiptoe to open the door, letting out a scream when you turned and saw the great body of your  brother with arms crossed sitting on the bed "Hey, Mingi."

"You ..." he begins. "Where were you?"

"I was asking for shampoo, I can't find mine, they told me they'd bring more soon" Your answer, thank heaven, had come out more than calm and natural, or so you thought.  You approached the dresser to look in the drawers, a sweater and pants to take a quick bath and go to the cafeteria downstairs "How did you get in?" He pointed to the door that divided the two rooms of him, which was open.

"Did it take you all night to order the shampoo?"

"What are you talking about?  We'll discuss later, I have to take a shower."

"Answer me"

Suddenly everything freezes, your hand on the doorknob of the bathroom, your brother standing behind you, causing his shadow to cause a whirlpool in your stomach, suddenly, what you wanted to enter the bathroom, was to vomit.

"Mingi, I have to go, San is waiting for me downstairs."

"Do you think I haven't noticed?"  Him - Sighs and sits down on the bed again, then he decides to turn on your heels and see him, with brighter eyes and with his head lowered "Don't you trust me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"How much do you and Yunho have to ... be dating?"

"Mingi ...

"I'm not stupid, your outings in the middle of the night on the weekends, you didn't get to sleep, you got her fucking pathetic sunflower stockings."

Ouh no.

  "You don't trust me anymore?"  Repeat, and by then, your nerves were already high enough.

"I thought ... I thought you..."

"Was I going to get hysterical because you go out with one of my best friends? No, I'm not that stupid, at some point it was going to happen, or at least I believed that."

They didn't say anything else, you looked up at his and saw a smile appear little by little, to then see him rise from her place and wrap you in his arms.  Not only did you feel safe with your brother close by, now, you were sure that his closeness was as reliable as it had been since childhood, that now you could confirm that there was no more correct person to trust.

"Thanks for not being hysterical."

"Thanks for not dating San. That would be bad really, I don't want San as a brother-in-law."

[votederpycausemufins]

So, happy eggs benedict day to those who watch dsmp. I’m sure you’ll have fun today! I know I will when you all read this chapter and freak out at the end! also gonna apologize for the formatting. I wasn’t sure how to replicate what I did while writing it, so I’m doing that instead.

@petrichormeraki​

“Hey Tommy?” Phil took the teen over to the side, wanting to speak with him. “Since Grian is still talking with his admin-”

“He’s my admin too. You saw that the other me was in their world.”

“Right, fine. While he’s talking to your admin, I’ve got a question.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“When you were talking with that other you… D-Did Kristen show up?”

“Mumza? Uh, no. Why d’ya ask?”

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t know. She wasn’t really around when you were growing up. But she’s sort of… a goddess of death.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “She’s what?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, no. Mumza didn’t show up. You did. Or the other version of you. I guess you’re the death god there instead of her.”

“Right. Well, anything else happen, mate?”

“After the other you showed up, the other me got taken away by him and told me the thing to say to Xannes.”

“Alright. Thanks for telling me Tommy.”

“Theseus. Theeeeeeeseus. Theseus! Wake up!”

“Ugh… where am I?”

“Prison. Specifically Base Iridium.”

Theseus shook his head to wake himself up more. “Wait where the fuck am I?!”

“I just said you’re-”

“No what the fuck is this?!” Theseus shouted and tried moving around, only making the sound of chains jingling.

“Ohhhh, enchanted bedrock casket to make sure you can’t move. But hey, At least we get face holes. Aaaand you’re hyperventilating.”

“How do I get out?! Let me out!”

“If I knew how to get out, I would have aaaaaages ago and gone to see Sense!”

“W-Wait, S-Sense like the e-evil r-redstone guy?”

“Yes! With a wonderful mustache and sexy suit of his~”

“Oh eww gross. You’re just as bad as him.” Theseus cringed.

“How’s he doing?”

“Half starved to death and had his vocal cords ripped out.”

“He. What.”

“The new emperor of Helscraft or whatever did it. Kicked him off the throne and trapped him in whatever was there instead of the nether.”

“No! Now I need to get out!” Chain rattling filled the air.

“Uh hey, what’s your name by the way?”

There was a pause from the rattling. “Oh you heard I changed it? It’s Grifter now.”

“Uh, didn’t know you started with anything else.”

“Hiii Puffy! I’m baaack! Did you an’ Grum talk about stuff?” Jrum walked into Puffy’s home holding a lot of quartz in his arms. He knew he could just put it in his inventory, but this was more fun.

“Yes we did, though… well it was a little rough for him, so he’s... out building a place for you to stay near your charger until you can get home, alright?”

Jrum nodded, accepting the answer without question before setting his haul down on a table and picking up a piece quartz to chew on. “I made a new friend! His name is Michael!”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Yeah! And then I went exploring and I found a big cave!”

“In the nether?” Puffy asked, only half paying attention right now while hoping Jrum would get distracted talking. She knew the bot’s brother wasn’t really out building after his panic attack, but duckling Dream had been kind and offered to help the child.

“It looked kinda like it, but no. It kinda looked like something Uncle Scar would make. It was pretty. He once built a humongous drill to get to the nether. A-And then some of the nether started climbing out, but the hole was waaaaay too big so it didn’t have any chance!”

“That sounds creative.”

“Yeah! He also made a magic village with a big magic crystal, and apparently it helps connect to the hels dimension, so I made a friend there!”

“What’s that?” Puffy asked with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, the hels dimension is a place parallel to this dimension, but it’s not like another dimension like the overworld and the nether are different dimensions to themselves, hels is like… us, but through a mirror! A funhouse mirror! Like my daddy is really good at redstone like me, and he can get frazzled at times, but he’s really nice. But then there’s the hels version of him who’s like a big mean evil scientist!”

“Oh really. And I suppose you made friends with your hels version?” Puffy asked with a small smile, but Jrum frowned and found his antenna to tug on, squeezing the little blue ball at the end.

“Uh, no. Grum and I were built by our dads, but in hels, they got separated and so they couldn’t build us. So… we don’t have our own hels versions.”

Puffy frowned sadly. “Do you want to talk about that?

“Yeah. I’ve tried telling my dads, but they just sort of reassure me without really listening.”

Puffy got a chair set up for Jrum, ready for an impromptu therapy session which she hoped wouldn’t end as bad as the last one. “Now, what’s bothering you most?”

“Well, the fact that we don’t have our other versions kinda hurts because it sort of makes me feel like we’re less real. I know my dads say that we’re of course real, but it doesn’t hurt less because they just sort of say it and not give reasons. In fact, they sort of give us less reasons because they were really protective about us respawning since they didn’t know how that would work. I mean, I guess they had a reason to worry since Grum and me are here now, but the fact they couldn’t trust us with that kinda hurts.

“And then we need to be charged up as well as eat, but we don’t need to worry about phantoms. I guess it’s a trade off, but no one else has to deal with that! It feels weird! From what Xisuma said, he needed to mess with some files to get us read properly by all his admin stuff, and he didn’t need to do that for others sort of like us, so why are we different?!”

Puffy hugged Jrum to comfort the now crying robot. The small whispers of reassurance helped a little, telling him he really was a person and that he would be safe. Jrum was glad for them he didn’t like the mess he was in, and the fact that it came from not really being a person made it sting even worse. So he was very happy to find someone who would listen and understand.

System hard drive crash. Attempting recovery. Recovering… Recovering… 92% of data recovered. Rebooting… Rebooting… Essential data missing. Please insert external drive for troubleshooting.

External drive connected. Reading external data. 16 files located. Do you wish to replace data with files? Backing up old files. Backing up… Backing up… Data has been backed up. Replacing data. Replacing… Replacing… Replacement complete. Restarting. One moment.

Restart complete. Checking systems. 100% data found. Implementing… Implementing… Files implemented.

Are you sure you want to rename this machine? Renaming… Renaming… Renaming complete. Restart needed to fully implement. Restarting. One moment.

Welcome. Please continue with s s s set u u up. Ch ch choose a l l lan. :) 

Grumbot sat up with a start. He was pretty sure if he wasn’t a robot, he’d be breathing heavily. He put a hand to his head before looking around. It looked like he had been put in a room with a bed, but he didn’t recognize it, and no one else was there.

Grum tried to remember what happened. Had he run out of battery? Or had he gotten damaged. No, he had been trying to [: )] and it didn’t work out. He had also been with Puffy, so perhaps this was another room in her house. It wasn’t one he had seen before, but he also hadn’t really gone exploring.

Getting up from the bed and stretching, Grum decided to do just a little bit of looking around the room to make sure this really was Puffy’s place. He didn’t want to end up in someone else’s place and get in trouble. Though perhaps it was a similar situation to [: )] when they showed up on [: )].

That was another thing he almost forgot. Jrum. Was he okay? He didn’t know how long they had been separated and if it were long enough, he could have gotten in trouble. He had always taken after their [: )] and if the people here weren’t the happiest about stuff like that, it might not end well.

Well, as he looked around, the place seemed safe, and after carefully breaking a piece of the wall before putting it back, he was still at Puffy’s home. He attempted to contact Jrum, but it seemed that function wasn’t working. Possibly because they were no longer in [: )] and it was something there that allowed a direct connection between the two of them.

Grum’s eyes landed on a piece of paper he hadn’t noticed before. It seemed to be a note of sorts, so he read it. It seemed to be from the admin. He wrote how Puffy said Grum passed out and she went to check on Jrum to make sure the same didn’t happen to him. That if he would like, the admin could check him over and make sure everything was fine and there were no programming issues.

The robot rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t have any issues. [: )] and [: )] had built him just fine, Plus Jrum had gotten the two of them updates from [: )] so they were even better. There was no reason to see the admin, especially because…

Because…

Because why? This person was the admin, so he would just be making sure the server ran as smoothly as possible. He likely was just worried. That was all. What admin wouldn’t? And they hadn’t done anything to make Grum think otherwise. If they did, then maybe he would need to be wary. But so far, nothing. 

Puffy suggested they get a treat for Jrumbot to help him cheer up and Jrum wiped away his virtual tears before following her. As they left, neither of them noticed the small red plant wrapping around the antenna and connecting to the now red ball on the end of it.

“Ah ha. Nice joke Theseu- wait a second.” There was silence. “You’re not my brother.”

.

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[4dtk]

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway. 

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan. 

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed. 

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him. 

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?" 

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat. 

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look. 

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger. 

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his. 

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either." 

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!" 

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes. 

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down." 

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages. 

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing. 

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt. 

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed. 

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?" 

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made. 

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article. 

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host. 

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you. 

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves. 

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh." 

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's. 

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed. 

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31] 

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing. 

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?" 

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory. 

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?" 

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!" 

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door. 

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument. 

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33] 

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader. 

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview. 

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?' 

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking. 

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks." 

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room. 

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time. 

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile. 

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile. 

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder. 

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things." 

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred. 

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye. 

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time. 

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones. 

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment. 

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings." 

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together. 

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression. 

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable. 

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could. 

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation. 

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous." 

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?". 

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.